#living under capitalism and this shit show of a government

[notsolonelyygirl]

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[starlightoath]

*sips tea* Do y'all see and hear that? No one's storming the capital. No one's inciting an insurrection in the midst of a tantrum. No one's claiming they didn't lose in spite of the official vote counting. Unlike MAGA, who did all of those things!

Just a graceful loss! Because unlike the child that won by 1.5%(it wasn't a landslide), Kamala had the dignity and maturity to concede and accept her defeat with dignity. *takes another sip* Crazy how it was the shortest campaign in history and 48.4% of American voters voted for her. Imagine what she would have done with a whole year.

Ah Ah! I was only 49.9%. Not 50%. We're definitely not rounding. Even then, a lot of citizens abstained. *pours another cup of tea* So, let's see. Unqualified cabinet members based on how popular they are. Restrictions on bodily autonomy of women now, intentions of placing restrictions on all people. Transphobia that's dealing direct damage to reproductive healthcare and mental healthcare. Denial of Healthcare to people who need it in direct violation of "Do no harm" under penalty of arrest. Not to mention dismantling of government paid insurance with only "concepts of a plan" to replace it(which is just another way of saying it won't be replaced). Intentions to delegalize same sex marriage. The person who put America even further into debt, who we know is in bed with Putin and China, is back into office. The same man that was convicted and found guilty of 34 felonies including multiple cases of Sexual assault. The very same man who's throwing a tantrum because one of our greatest presidents died and flags will still be at half mast during hus inauguration. Racism, sexism, and bigotry "backed" by the government. Oh! And those terrorists, sorry, that's bad optics, right? "Christian Nationalists" having government positions in direct opposition to the Founding Fathers Direct intent of "Separation of Church and State." Also cultists, whoops again, "The MAGA Party," having even higher influence because they're in central government positions! Oh! The price of living will increase too! Trump also said that his promise to decrease egg prices was a lie.

But hey. At least Trump voters are happy that they can be hateful in public. At least they can feel justified in attacking marginalized groups knowing Trump is in the office! At least they know no more—Oh wait! Immigrants are cheaper labor than native citizens, so immigrants will still be coming to their country!

*sips tea*

Ladies, Gentlemen, and Others!

Guys, Gals, and Nonbinary Pals!

Presenting Act 2 of Trump's America: The Burning Shit Show in the Midst of a Dumpster Fire!

Don't worry, Folks! I'll be enjoying the show from a safe distance!

[pierayanna]

watching smallville is helping me unpack the ethos of white America.

They completely misrepresented human nature in order to perpetuate capitalism and colonialism.

Instead of the reality of humans being and existing as animals within nature and noting that our evolution and beginning of society was because of our innate sense of empathy and drive for community, our first sign of civilization being that of a healed bone showing that someone protected, fed, cared for, etc. someone else while they healed, we developed sciences, math, art, healing practices not simply for ourselves but to connect and enjoy one another, we have a manufactured reality that we are “born in sin,” innately greedy, selfish, yearning for power. This manufactured misrepresentation is because we are only “allowed” to study white men. Value and humanity is only allotted to white men who now represent human nature. We ignore and devalue indigenous teachings and practices. This makes us accepts the ideas and implications of capitalism and colonialism. We accept the idea that we need to be policed and governed despite the fact that crime diminishes without poverty (why aren’t white neighborhoods as policed and still safe and functioning??) and our accountability to community is what kept society safe and functioning. We accept imperialism and European paternalism. We accept individualism over collective. It endangers us. We accept racism: “there’s always going to be an in group and out group. An us vs them.” Something I’ve heard from peers in “anti-racist” classrooms. We accept this murder of the earth.

We accept the idea that we have to do things. I just realized how powerful the joke, “all I have to do is be Black and die,” is: all we have to do is be and then stop being. We most definitely don’t have to live this uniform, crappy, traumatizing life. We now believe our deserving of love and rest is depending on our productivity. We accept uniform lifestyles despite how unique we all are. We accept unlivable wages, no access to healthcare, inflation, having to pay to exist (food, shelter, water, etc.), horribly lacking miseducation systems, the majority of our lives dedicated to bringing wealth to 1% who spend it on sick shit. We accept wage slavery. We accept chattel slavery (mass incarceration). We accept the fact that children must be enslaved and maimed to give us phones and clothing. We blindly accept propaganda. We accept the fact that America can not fund any of these things for community but can fund wars and ethnic cleansing. But if they were to do anything remotely similar here, we would meddle in their continent for years!! We claim the existence of first world countries and this world countries when our “first world country” is surviving on the land, labor and people of “third world countries.” We accept food apartheid that prevents a lot of people from boycotting heinous companies. We accept the alienation and are lonely with no sense of community.

We accept the idea of anarchy as unbridled chaos, raping, pillaging, murder. No. That’s what’s happening now under this policing institution. Under capitalism and colonialism. Smallville ended an episode about a child veteran who lost his life in combat with the line that he sacrificed his life [in the US military] “saving the world.” Nevermind the fact that he enlisted because he was too poor to pursue college and football like he wanted, but to equate, unequivocally, the US military with saving the world was a powerful statement. How unchecked our propaganda media is. To end an episode with this assertion, left no room for it to be questioned: no thought into why the boy was in this foreign country or what he was doing there and how was it “saving the world.” No room for knowledge. I recall photos and accounts that resurface much later detailing what Americans really do in these foreign countries. What they do to the people. “Winners write history.” For the first time, I am able to see just how one-sided mainstream news outlets are. They show, and now force Americans to live in, a false reality. Journalists are supposed to be protected. But apparently only the ‘winner’s’ journalists are.

People like to claim tv shows, social media, etc. isn’t important and shouldn’t be taken serious. To focus of politics in government. This is art. This is what people are spending most of the free time allotted them consuming. This is an institution. Just as government. Just as religion.

Even in their falsehoods, we can still see the truth. Speaking of this institution that has been weaponized by those in power, didn’t Jesus save us? By your own logic, did he not free us from this so called evil human nature? As someone who has descended from people who were enslaved during chattel slavery, my lens for Christianity has always been different. I never identified with the whitewashed, white supremacist, policing, institutional state force misrepresentation of Jesus and questioned the attempts of the Black church to make him so. Why would he subscribe to the made up idealogy of gender that only exist to reinforce white supremacy? Why would he want me silenced? Why do I have to wear a dress? Why is being ladylike important as a Christian? Why would homosexuality be considered wrong while murdering and spreading hatred was not (mistranslation closer to pedophilia and mostly mentioned in the Old Testament)? I learned to contextualize and understand the history during the Bible and its translations over time. I identified with the wooly haired and “burnished bronze, refined as in a furnace” Jesus that was yelling and flipping tables. I identified with the Jesus that was about listening to sex workers and against policing. I identified with Jesus that ate with people deemed unsavory by the white regime and others of his own people that were hypocrites. I identified with the Jesus that sacrificed for his community, died young, and was about love for oneself and one’s neighbors. Religious trauma has pushed many Black spiritualists away, but I urge people to learn from the theology and not from what it has been weaponized to propose. God is in us. We are made in their image. We are reflections of one another. I feel this when I observe nature. When I experience humanity. I see the patterns throughout other religions as well that seem to reinforce this same premise. I recall indigenous cultures that “worship,” another westernized concept, or express gratitude to things in nature by name. Why not if you see these living things just as valuable as you are? Christians express gratitude for these specific things in nature to One being.

I implore people to alchemize their anger and frustration and guilt. Allow these things to radicalize you. What other purpose right now besides liberation?

[scaryorganmusic]

this heatwave in brazil rn is just showing more and more corporate greed and negligence over people’s lives. not only capitalism caused this climate catastrophe but it’s forcing people to work under circumstances detrimental to their health, and the violent storms caused many ppl in my city (obviously mostly in the poor neighborhoods) to go days without electricity and even water, and guess what? just a few years ago the electricity company that used to be run by the government was sold to private initiative, so it figures they don’t give a shit

[discluded]

Hey, same anon that talked about BOC distancing themselves from the LGBTQ+ community. My post wasn't meant to dampen the excitement of them doing new projects with a broader audience. Just saying BOC is shitty for what they're doing. They drop the LGBTQ+ community once they want the eyes & money of homophobes. I hope MileApo's Chinese project is amazing af because they deserve it (& if BL related, it's censored as little as possible).

Thanks for clarifying! Yes, I'm just... tired of BOC right now. To me, I'm happy to throw them away with any other company that practices rainbow capitalism until it's time to stir up my ire again. My main anguish was the impression that BOC had a tight stranglehold on MileApo's potential future success by creating this ceiling with their own incompetence and we're finally free of that concern.

About whether or not it'll be BL and Chinese censorship:

First of all, I'm going to say: I'm excited either way. I don't want their work to be confined to romance, which it sounds like Man Suang will not, and while it will be lovely that queer couples are treated the same way as straight couples (In that they just sort of appear in series as leads and the primary plot is the focus while them having a relationship is background/secondary like Mabel's second season personal plot line in Only Murders), I do understand that's not the media capacity in China.

Either way, we do know they played brothers for the lolz once and it was... um, uncomfortably sexually charged.

That being said, lol this insane drama is gonna come out in China supposedly:

RIP to you if you watch, you might need brain bleach after. I'm not even sure how something like this going to pass censorship review but 😵 I guess we're see.

As far as I'm aware, I saw discussion within danmei fandom that there was potentially some loosening of the censorship rules because apparently capitalism rules all, but I can't seem to find anything about that lately so who knows. I actually saw that TGCF's drama supposedly passed censorship review last year, but it's been almost a year now and no updates.

Finally, a word about LGBTQ censorship by the CCP -- I know not everyone here lives in America or the west (thank God) but I often see comments on Tumblr and Twitter to the effect that people living under governments with human rights abuses share the same beliefs as the government. While there is definitely manipulation of public sentiment through propaganda, please remember that places with such restrictions on human rights hurt the people living in their country first and foremost. (And yes anon, I know that is not what you're saying! just my rant!!!)

The behavior of the government does not reflect the sentiment of individual citizens who live in China ( who don't get to choose their government at all lol )

Article from Feb 2022 about public outrage about the lesbian plotline in Friends being censored

A September–October 2016 survey by the Varkey Foundation found that 54% of 18–21-year-olds supported same-sex marriage in China.[124]

An online opinion poll from Phoenix Network in December 2019, which garnered close to 10 million votes, showed a 67% majority in favor of same-sex marriage in China.[46]

Again, I known anon this is not what you meant or said at all, but if I see anyone in fandom saying racist ass shit about Chinese people, I'm going to start publicly calling them out because fandom is my fun safe space and I don't need people to bring racism into my life 😊��

Finally, about what MileApo committed to: a full version can always air on iQiyi internationally while a sad cut version airs domestically (I think what happened with La Forte). Queer storytelling that circumvents censorship to tell the stories of queer people to a wider audience even if maybe not the full version isn't bowing to censorship - it's showing the resilience of LGBTQ people in spite of the attempts to quash out our light.

[sukimas]

in a broad sense, video games, unless they are intended to be quite literally a resource hole with no expectation of return, will always be moderated by the same market forces all things are under capitalism. social democracies or centralized economies fundamentally have to gamble on which luxuries should be supported (and they do- non-essential industries get subsidies all the time in plenty of places.)

due to the way that programming works nowadays with dependencies and such, making a game at minimum requires a good 5-6 people working on it at one time to complete. use of previously existing libraries does in fact mean the people who build and maintain those libraries count for dev numbers, even if they don't show up in the credits. most, of course, require many, many more.

therefore even under an idealized economic system, you require 3-4 NEETs on UBI working around the clock for years on end to publish a single good game. many indie teams fall apart or if their early games don't get good reviews they no longer want to keep making them. but in a more common scenario (because, let's face it, people are more likely to play big AAA-style games, even if they aren't quite AS big as the AAA games of today- marketing is necessary even if your product is totally free) the game that people are likely to play simply won't get made without outside funding. not everyone who works at a big game studio would rather work there than anywhere else excepting the paycheck; many people would in fact not make games if they had to collaborate with large teams for enough income to survive and have a little left over. in addition, hardware and software packages are needed, and not everyone who works on making THOSE only wants to do it for UBI, either. you need increased incentives for things you want to exist beyond the minimum necessary for existence, because while people do work together, they only work together well up to Dunbar's number and then it all goes to shit.

so, what's the most likely scenario under a non-capitalist economic system for the creation of video games? remember, luxuries ARE created under non-capitalist economic systems, because they make life worth living. it is plausible that some people would find video games a reason life is worth living, therefore you would want to fund it.

i expect they would be created under a system of government grants. you apply to the government with your game scenario, concept art, perhaps a short demo, and they give you grant funding. however, there's a small problem- presumably, the government cannot afford to fund every game that people want to make. perhaps some of those which aren't funded go on to become indie games made by NEETs, but the majority probably crash and burn because their concept was too ambitious.

so, you have to convince the government that your game will be well liked, in order to get the grant money, to make your game. they want to fund things that will increase the satisfaction and well-being of their constituents as much as possible, you see. do you see the issue with this?

yep, it's exactly the same issue with pleasing investors in the modern day. creative endeavors that require large teams and need to aim for an actual specific goal rather than ars gratia artis = people creating proposals that aim for specific keywords and things that are currently in vogue, not for the wildest and most interesting. this creates games that are just like modern AAA games- attempting to appeal to the market as much as possible.

now, how do I know this incentive structure will be created? well, you might have heard of heard of a small organization called the "National Science Foundation"...

[titleknown]

Why is the response to any critique of a kids show "just watch adult shows 4head". Kids deserve good and diverse (story-wise, not just race/gender) media that's actually been thought through. If I say that Steven Universe/Gravity Falls/whatever else has some issues it's not because those are the only shows I've ever watched, it's because I think that maybe we should strive to make good TV that's aimed at all ages.

[In response to this post]

Well, my view of the long and short of it on a macro level is that they're mad at the stagnation of taste under late capitalism, especially if they're into nitche stuff that's starved for funding and social capital while other peoples' stuff has a thriving fandom/scene, and think that being mean on the internet can change it.

Like, while I often chide @afloweroutofstone for engaging in this behavior, an old article of his ironically made the excellent point that the reason so much of our politics centers around meaningless culture war shit that doesn't materially change anything is because we feel so disconnected from the process of influencing our society via political action due to neoliberalism and a gridlocked government with systems designed to basically say No to doing anything good that we feel like all we can do is this ineffectual individualistic pressuring of others via market action.

And, while he was talking about on a larger scale, I think this also applies to the micro scale of what art gets to exist/be produced too.

Like, in the US government arts funding (especially for the sorts of stuff people on here like) is basically dead, the monetary base for indie work online shrunk a lot when the '08 crash basically made the working class broke, and most the most consistent means of funding art isa small monopoly of mercenarial nightmare-megacorps.

People who like things that're nitche and drowned out by the things the megacorps are pushing feel at the mercy of the market and its tastes, with no real workable avenue for changing society in a way that their art is allowed to exist and thrive, or even their ways of enjoying art due to the way social cycles influence fan cultures and how a lot of people have been burned by that (But that's for its own post).

Either way, they feel as if there's no option except that ineffective "change consumer demand to change what megacorps do" mindset, even though it's clear from basic observation that doesn't work for a sour shit.

From my observation, it seems like they feel like their only option is to try and drag culture back to an earlier stage, before the "nerds" "ruined it" by infantilizing it by making their vapid art considered socially acceptable, or so the narrative goes, and want to do this by bullying hard enough they're gone from public life or have modified their behaviors to be "acceptable," IE creating the sort of world they want to live in.

That isn't going to work to change shit, but it sure is going to make a lot of people double down on their bad habits or else feel even more isolated and alone, but as I have observed, people prefer bad solutions to no solutions.

But so far nobody's doing shit at scale to remedy the iactual core problem, IE "We as audience/creators feel as if we have no control over the material factors behind the creation of art in our society," or even stating it as a problem of that, and that sucks!

IDK, I'm rambling at this point, but... in all my observation it really does seem like a mean, sad attempt to exert some tiny amount of control over the means of artistic production via the logics of consumer activism in this hellworld...

[platinum-iridium]

I’m finally watching L&O all the way through because ur live-blogging made me miss it and want to see what Connie is about lol but I just got to that episode with the lesbian mom and Serena shows no special care or insight (Arthur says he doesn’t agree or disagree about gay marriage but thinks the government shouldn’t interfere with peoples private business and Serena agrees with that) until the end when she says the case wouldn’t have happened if gays could legally adopt. Arthur doesn’t gaf and says they should’ve moved states and Serena says she ‘knew they weren’t the same side of this’ and tbh that is the most emotion I have seen her give to a lesbian case because she’s usually indifferent or harsh on the killer regardless. Something about how the actress plays her makes me like her but I almost want her to come back to see how they’d actually integrate her sexuality into the show. I don’t see her being married or a mother but she definitely gives an icey, rich older lesbian vibes lol

first of all i am incredibly pleased that the law and order agenda is spreading. such a good show and even where it's a product of its time i feel like it's an interesting cultural touchstone. like if capitalism didn't exist i'd be writing a thesis on changes in media attitudes through a study of law and order. the rest under a cut bc it's yet another manifesto

the worst part about serena is that they really could have done better. like even if they wanted her closeted and trying to stay that way i need the writers to bffr. i do dread seeing the actress' face because she is in so many shitty seasons but i feel like she deserved a better shot. i do think her character is better with arthur branch in the picture because then they don't have to force her to take positions that are inconsistent just to have a different perspective in the DAs office.

i see your point but i don't want to see the new law and order bring anyone back. i'm not convinced they'd do anyone justice. i have mixed feelings about how they brought back jamie. i have to stan a woman supporting a woman killing her abuser but also they had her as a judge in a spinoff so WTF is she doing in the DAs office again? also i feel like there's no way she'd be so indiscreet about that shit. but anyway. it is kind of interesting to imagine a serena in a modern era with much less stigma

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Love in a Hopeless World

A/N: Hello, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓! I’m back with another fic for you! This was one of the options given to me.

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Male reader

Requested: @evansphnx12

Rating: Mature

Warnings: NSFW, smut, bottom male reader, sir kink, degradation, creampie, size kink, Choking kink, breeding kink, masturbation, and all characters are above the age of 18+

Word Count: 2355

Summary: Its turns out there weren't that many supplies in the old abandoned campus. So, you and Chris have to go deeper into the city to find more but during the little scavenge, Chris began to dirty thoughts...

I hope you enjoy it! Sorry if it’s bad! And sorry for any errors that are found!

If you like what I write, how about check out my masterlist?

Keys:

M/n: Male name.

«••••••••••••••»

[1]

[2] YOU ARE HERE

DISCLAIMER!: I never played or watched any gameplay of the resident evil series. And this doesn’t follow any of the resident evil timelines, it’s on its own.

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MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES

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Previously...

Then y'all had another round of hot steamy sex. And the others at the base had a hard time sleeping that night.

«••••••••••••••»

Your eyes twitch at the unpleasant light hitting it directly. 'It's morning already?' you moved around only to feel wet sheets. 'What happened last night?'

Then you felt a body move and a muscular arm grab you, pulling you closer. You could feel the warmth, and muscular chest pushed against your back.

'Oh! That's right!' now you remembered why you were all sticky and sleeping against Chris. 'I had sex with my superior! But he felt the same.'

Then you felt Chris move around and waking up. "Hey, baby boy," Chris said with a raspy and deep voice. "Morning." you pressed your lips against his.

"If you continue, we may have to repeat what we did last night, baby," Chris growled as pulled back, gripping your waist. You smirked before getting up.

"Come one, we have to get ready. We have important business," you said. "Ugh, can't we just sleep in and have some... Fun?" Chris complained.

"I know you haven't had sex in 5 years but we need to go get those people. We'll have fun at the end of the day," you said stressing your muscles and popping your back.

The bed creaked meaning he finally got off his ass to get ready. "We need to go get those survivors. And scavenge for more supplies," you said putting your armor on and fixing it up.

After you both got your gear and weapons, you both walked into the main area with all the others.

Everybody looked at you both and immediately looked at way. There was awkwardness in the room. 'They must have heard me last night!' Hell! maybe the whole city heard it is quiet

"Uh,- sir... We have a situation." one of the soldiers said. "shot." Chris said. "Well... it turns out there weren't that many supplies found on the campus. We need more supplies if weren't gonna go get those survivors." the soldier said

You heard listening but your mind began to wonder. You still couldn't let go of the past, you remembered one of your siblings was accepted into MIT. This was 3 months after the Raccoon City Incident.

You would see on the news- Raccoon City survivors being discriminated against by the American people. "Hey, what do I keep saying?" Chris said next to you. His conversation was done.

"Stop thinking about the past, it's long gone," you replied, mimicking his voice. Chris laughed, "Okay, baby. But we need to go get those people."

You nodded but kind of chuckled at the fact that he didn't want to do anything today but now wants to do business.

"Come on, M/n! We have to get going. EVERYONE, protect the base at all cost." Chris commanded. "YES SIR!" they all said at the same time.

You, Chris, and a few others left the confines of the base. Even though it was morning, the sky still had a grey color to it. You open the door to the back seat and closed it.

"We should be there in 20 minutes or less." the driver said starting the engine up. "Alright, let's go." the armored car pulled out before driving down the messy road.

It wasn't long before you reached the waterfront. You could see the skyline perfectly, most buildings were on the verge of collapsing. Others were burnt to where the wall showed the skeleton.

Up ahead, you saw a bridge leading into Cambridge was destroyed. 'Longfellow Bridge.' You have been to Boston before and got to explore everything before the world went hell.

The ride continued for a while. There was nothing or anyone in sight. You could see the freeway ahead but like all other ways leading into Cambridge was destroyed.

"We're closing in on Bunker Hill. They said they are taking refuge by the monument." one of them said.

And wouldn't you know it? In the distance, you could see the tall granite obelisk peaking out. It kind of looked like the one down in D.C. but this one is still standing.

What you meant by "This one is still standing" is because the capital was hit by a nuclear warhead, along with other cities across the US.

The President and other government officials were evacuated and the countries important documents were evacuated as well. So, the legacy of the US would still live.

That means the President is still alive and is in some remote area devoid of zombie life.

"I see some people! They appear to be walking around." one of the soldiers said. And the people seem to notice us because they were waving at us.

"Stop the car," Chris said, the car stopped. He and others got out. Two of the survivors looked familiar? Like you have seen them before. They both were tall and had beards.

They walked up to y'all. "Please, are you here to rescue us?" one of them pleaded. "Yes, we're here to take you to our temporary base," Chris said.

They all smiled and some hugged each other. Chris ordered the soldiers to help some things and you approached the two survivors. "Why do you two look familiar?"

One of them laughed and smiled. "Well...- are you fan of Captain America and Thor?"

Your jaw dropped and your eyes widen. "No. Way. You're Chris Evans and Hemsworth!" you were lost at speech. "I thought y'all was dead! I- how-"

"Well, we survived! I'm not too sure about the others though..." Chris H said with that thick Australian accent. You both were just talking, unknown to Chris R was glaring holes into your head.

After y'all returned to MIT Dorms, you still talked with Chris E and H. You didn't even acknowledge Chris R's glares.

He was getting more and more jealous. 'I hate those two!' Chris yelled in his mind. They were taking your attention from him.

"We have to go M/n! We need to find supplies." Chris yelled at you. 'What's wrong with him?' you thought to yourself. "Bye guys!" You waved at the two Chris.

"He was fun to talk to." Chris H said and Chris E agreed.

«••••••••••••••»

TIMESKIP (To Supermarket)

«••••••••••••••»

You and Chris arrived at the market. There were some abandoned cars in the parking lot. "Come on." You both walked to the doors and opened them.

The place was absolutely trashed. Lights flickering, aisles tipped over, some cans on the floor - also money, which was useless-, and the roof caved in on the left side.

"Look for non-perishables. Canned food would be good and find any water- if there is any that is." you nodded your head before going down one of the aisles.

There were some canned foods but no water. The smell of a rotting corpse filled the air, you could hear flies buzzing. "Ugh." you covered your nose and looked at the rotting corpse. "Poor bastard..."

Meanwhile, Chris was looking for the same stuff, but he was still bitter about you talking to those guys. And completely ignoring him. He could already imagine your punishment.

He could imagine you begging for more, feeling the tightness of your ass wrapped around his cock. 'Shit.' Chris was getting hard. His cock was feeling restricted by the tight pants.

"Hurry up, M/n!" Chris yelled from the other side of the store. "Okay!" you finished gathering anything you could find. 'Why are we leaving early? We have few more places to loot/raid.'

You left the aisles and made your way to the front doors. "Come on, we have to go." you both we made went to the vehicle and drove back to base.

You had found some supplies. 15 canned foods, and some water as well. It wasn't much, but it's something.

«••••••••••••••»

TIMESKIP (Arrival at the base.)

«••••••••••••••»

You and Chris arrived at MIT. You were gonna go talk with Chris E and H, but Chris R wasn't having it.

"Hey-" Chris grabbed your hand and began to rush to the room. Everyone knew what was gonna happen. 'Ah, shit- there gonna go at it again.'

At the room, Chris pinned you against the wall and latched his lips onto yours. The kiss rough, his much larger body pushed against yours shows the difference in size.

His tongue pushed against your teeth telling you to open them. You slowly pushed your mouth, Chris immediately pushed his tongue and invaded your mouth.

"Mmm-" you moaned into the kiss as Chris began to grip your ass. "Up." He growled into your ear. You wrapped your legs around his waist and continued to make out.

He lifted you and carried you to the bed. He slammed you onto your back before pulling away and attacking your neck. "A-ah!" Chris found your sweet spot.

"You belong to me, M/n! I claimed you that night we had sex last night!" Chris growled. "Strip." he quickly removed his clothes, leaving him in his boxers.

You could see the outline thick meaty cock. "You got hard from just kissing me?" you laughed. "You don't talk me like that! You're the slut here." Chris growled as he gripped and slapped your thighs.

You whimpered under the touch. "Look at you, whimpering under me. And your pathetic cock got hard from me hitting you. But let's see what this ass has to say." Chris said as he put your legs on his shoulders

You then felt his thick slicked fingers at your entrance. One finger slips in, your muscles immediately clenched at the invader. "M-mm." you gripped the sheets as his finger pushed deeper.

Then a second finger went in. You clench even more as it did a scissor motion. "Aagh!" you felt his fingers touch the bundle of pleasure. "You're ready."

Chris pulled his fingers out to see your hole doing a grabbing motion. 'Fuck... that's hot.' Chris threw his head back while jerking his cock. "Can't wait to pound this slutty boipussy."

You felt his fat tip push past your tight ring. "Mmm... C-Chris!-"

Smack

"YOU DON'T CALL ME THAT! You didn't learn from last time? You. Call. Me. Sir. You got that?" Chris growled/yelled. "Y-yes, Sir... It's just that... You're so big..." You whimpered.

Then with one Thrust, Chris pushed his entire cock inside. "See? You're taking all 12 inches of me! Fuck, so tight..." Chris groaned. His cock was touching your prostate.

His thick meaty cock filled your insides perfectly. Like you were made for each other. "Y-you're... splitting m-me... in two!" you moaned as you felt it throb and twitch.

"P-please... fuck me... make me your slut." you begged. Chris smirked before snapping his hips.

He began pounding into you. His big cum-filled balls smacked against your ass as he thrusts harder. "S-sir! Y-you feel... s-so good!" You moaned as you threw your head back and gripped the sheets tighter.

"You think those guys can fuck you like I do?! Only I can give you this pleasure, only me!" Chris growled as he thrust harder, hitting your prostate repeatedly.

You used the last of your strength to get up and wrapped your arms around Chris's neck. You clawed his back as he thrust more, you were sure those were gonna leave marks.

"Maybe those guys can give me more pleasure," you smirked at your fake statement. You heard a deep growl as Chris dropped you on the bed and flipped you onto your stomach.

"You fucking slut! Only I can give you this much pleasure! Those guys don't deserve you. Bet their cocks aren't as big as mines." Chris growled as he gripped your hips.

Sounds of skin-slapping and balls slapping against your ass filled the room and the others in the building had to hear it. The walls weren't soundproof.

Your cock was twitching, ready to release a load. "You're about to cum without me touching you! Well, I'm -FUCK- about to cum too." Chris groaned as you tighten around him.

"P-please... give me... y-your load!" You moaned as you arched your back to give Chris more access. "Want me to fill this slutty ass with my cum? Gonna... cum... soon!"

After 5 more thrusts, Chris reached his breaking point, and so did you.

"FUCK! I'M CUMMING! CUM WITH ME!" Chris groaned, he wrapped his hand around cock stroking it before you released it all over his hand. That was enough for him.

"FUCK!" you felt his cock twitch before pumping his hot load inside, filling you up to the brim.

*Breathing intensifies*

Chris collapses onto the bed right next to you with his cock still inside. You felt him pull out with his cum leaking out. "I'll never leave you for those two. My heart only beats for you," you said sincerely turning over to face him.

"I'll never leave you too. We'll be together until our time runs out." Chris said pulling you into a kiss filled with passion and love.

'There is still Love in a Hopeless World.'

THE END.

«••••••••••••••»

A/N: Finally this is done! I hoped you enjoy this, by 🍓Little Strawberries🍓!

[mischiefandspirits]

Bernard Figures It Out

Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...

"I've connected the two dots."

"You didn't connect shit."

"I've connected them."

Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.

Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.

The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.

There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.

What was he missing?

Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.

Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”

“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”

Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”

“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.

“What?”

He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”

A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”

“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”

“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”

“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”

“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”

“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”

“But it’s Metropolis.”

“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”

Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.

“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”

“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.

“You know I prefer twinks.”

“BERNARD!”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”

Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”

“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”

Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.

“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”

That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.

“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”

Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.

“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”

“And the actual story?”

“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”

“Isn’t Signal also Black?”

“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”

“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”

“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”

Ouch. Sorry, Dick.

“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”

“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.

“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”

Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”

“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”

Tim pressed his face back into his hands.

“You see it, right?”

Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”

“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”

“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.

“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”

“Why would Bruce do that?”

“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”

“And two plus two is?”

Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”

Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”

“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”

Oh my god.

“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”

Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?

“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”

“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”

“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”

“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”

“Let me guess…”

Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”

Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”

“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”

Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”

“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”

“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.

Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”

Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”

Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”

“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”

“The what?”

“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”

… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”

“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”

“Gross.”

“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”

“No.”

“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”

“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”

“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”

“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”

Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”

Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”

“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”

“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”

“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”

Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”

“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”

Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”

Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”

Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”

“Huh… And the others?”

“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.

“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”

“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.

“He’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.

The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”

“Sure, Bernard.”

[pyroclastic727]

Owl House said fuck capitalism

So this episode was interesting. Lilith pretty much killed her sister. Why the fuck would she do that?

Even more interesting: why is Belos like that? How did Hooty put his head through one of those guards? Who the fuck is the Titan, and why does everyone like him? And how are these all tied together?

This episode was a metaphor for capitalism

...and another delicious step towards radicalizing the youth into dismantling this fucked-up neo-feudal system.

We’ll start with Belos. 

Emperor Belos is a weird name, don’t you think? We all thought it was spelled “Bellows,” but it wasn’t. In fact, it’s five letters, starts with Be, ends with os, and describes a megalomaniac emperor that restricts people’s freedom in order to accumulate wealth for himself.

Sound familiar?

Emperor Bezos Belos created capitalism. He saw the beauty of magic and decided to make himself the most powerful.

Belos created a system that destroys the masses and boosts his power.

 I’m dipping into fan theory a little, because the fan theory fits. We know that people get branded with coven magic that makes it so they can only specialize in one area. We know that Belos is the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles. We know that the excess magic, magic created by restrictions, has to go somewhere.

It’s the same system that many viewers see all the time. A job takes up all your day and tires you for the night, so you can only do one skill for the rest of your life. Jeff Bezos is the most powerful man in the United States. Excess money, money taken by restrictions, has to go somewhere.

The magic goes to Belos, like how the money goes to Bezos. Belos created capitalism, and he won it.

The guards aren’t real. 

Look, we’ve never seen their faces. They’re all the same. Why would you work so hard to get to the top, just to become a nameless, faceless killing machine?

Oh, also Hooty stuck his face through one. There is nothing under the armor.

Why? Well, it’s the same reason you see all those celebrities going around flaunting their wealth and bragging about how hard they worked. Like all those songs about how they grind every day and work harder than everyone else while you’re out clubbing, and that makes them dope. And then you take a closer look at them and see that they had a small loan of a million dollars fueling them, or an entire talent agency behind them, or their dad was a famous country star in the 80′s. 

They’re fake. They’re hollow. They’re a ploy created by the capitalist emperor to try to delude you into working harder. 

Let me put this into perspective. I guarantee that every single one of you has heard stuff like this: “Hard work makes you successful.” “I put in the work, and that’s why I’m successful.” “If you work hard enough, then you can be as successful as Mark Zuckerberg.” 

And unless you’re a robot or really lucky, I’m sure all of you have failed at this. Maybe they told you that hard work would make you good at math, so you spent 22 hours a week working on calculus, only to pass it by 3 percentage points and have it destroy your perfect 4.0 GPA. Maybe they told you that if you talked to people enough, then you would make friends, so you spent a lot of time talking to people, only to end up lonely and friendless. Maybe they told you that if you did well in school, you would get a good job, so you spent all your time working hard to be a good student, and then ended up in a soulless, dead-end job.

The guards are there to delude you. Look, who really gains from you being productive? The answer is the ruling class, the CEOs, the government, the bourgeoisie. It has always been that. All you get from working is a paycheck that lets you survive. They get a paycheck that lets them get rich. Just like Belos gets the magic and productivity of the specialized coven witches.

The guards are there to trick you. The truth is that nobody can join the Emperor’s Coven. It’s just there to make you think that hard work will make you successful. Then you spend your entire life working hard, trying to prove to the person in charge that you’re worthwhile. You give your whole life to the Coven, and they give you nothing. 

Magic is supposed to be something you pursue for fun. Being skilled at things, being good at something beautiful...that’s supposed to be something you do because you want to. But they took that and made it into a source of productivity. It doesn’t matter if you make good content. All people fucking care about is if you upload the day of premiere, if you make a lot of content quickly, if you maintain a million different conversations with strangers who expect you to be the most interesting person in the room. They don’t care how it hurts you. They don’t care how you crack from the stress. How you cry when you think no one can see you, and then you check your phone and someone can see you, someone did see you, and you have to put on your face and be the charming, magnetic person they want you to be. (oh by the way that’s why I wasn’t online much last week)

And it ruins it. Suddenly you can’t watch The Owl House without being stressed. You can’t make any content. You can’t make spells as powerfully as you want to. Your passion is replaced by perfectionism and insecurity, a voice telling you to keep being the best at what you do, or else they’ll forget you and let you die.

There’s also the Titan. 

So nobody has mentioned him before, because in addition to the Boiling Isles being a hellscape full of witchcraft and queerness, it’s also full of atheists. 

But suddenly we have people saying all this shit about him? Shit like, he gave witches the gift of magic, and then they learned to use it in a civilized manner, since being uncivilized was disrespectful?

I mean, first off, that’s fucking wrong. The island gives people magic. The island, which just so happened to be shaped like a titan-sized human. But the island/titan gives everyone all types of magic. Hell, even Luz gets to use magic, and she’s human. 

It sounds really fucking familiar. (tw for discussion of homophobia and colonialism and misogyny). It sounds like when the news is on and they show some Tr*mp supporter talking about how fetuses have more rights than people and it is their holy duty to take away a woman’s control over her body and force her through unbearable pain and into an 18-year commitment she didn’t want to make. It sounds like all the times people tried to say homosexuality should be illegal, citing a single line in a book written two thousand years ago and heavily edited by a European king. It sounds like all the times people said God wanted them to conquer, to own the entire earth, to force the other races into pain to support them.

This is that bullshit thing people do where they commit awful sins and justify it by citing the will of God. 

Or, it’s the Coven using religion as an excuse for evil.

Look, the Emperor’s Coven is clearly colonizer-coded. Saying that people’s original form of magic was wild (and showing a picture with the same joyous, rowdy energy of an 18th or 19th -century Black or indigenous party), and that it was God’s will for them to be “civilized?” Sounds like that thing that powerful white people did where they went and murdered people and forced them into their twisted capitalist system. God, gold, and glory, is what they said, because history books just love to omit the gore.

Lilith is passing the abuse cycle along. 

You know, like a good little colonizer. God I fucking hate her. She’s a MILF, in the sense that she’s a Mother I’d Like to Fling off a cliff. 

Ah, enough screaming about how much I want to drown Lilith in a tub of Hooty’s mucus. Let’s go into why I want to do that, and how she took the evils of capitalism and just...adopted those.

So, Lilith is sick and twisted for what she did to her sister. But, uhh, that’s the point. You see, there are so many other people out there like Lilith who would do the exact same thing, if given the chance. These are the people who do mean things when the teacher isn’t looking, and then act nice and try to frame you. These are the people who will hate you if you’re better than them. These are people who would do anything to bring you down, if you dare outperform them.

It’s greed, my friends. The mental illness that capitalism blesses us all with.

Lilith herself said it: she dedicated her entire life to the Coven. What she wanted was to be the best. And she almost was...except for her own sister. Someone who lived with her, annoyed her at home, bested her at school. Someone she could never beat, no matter how hard she worked. And her sister was younger than her, too! How insulting was that? Lilith wanted to be the best, and someone in her exact situation did better than her.

Lilith was insecure. And it consumed her.

But why? Why does insecurity consume her? I mean, no one can be motivated by insecurity forever. Well, not unless someone conditions it into you.

The lovely thing about the capitalist system is the morals it teaches you. Things like: “You’re only useful if you’re the best.” “Being school smart makes you smart, while being social smart or sports smart or creative smart or fandom smart is worthless.” “Your worth can be quantified by numbers and is based off arbitrary measures like your income or your grades.” Things that can and will drive us crazy if we let ourselves believe them.

And it did drive Lilith crazy. She got so twisted by a society that said being good at magic is her only worth. Look, Lilith used to be good at things, probably. She was good at sports. At times, she slips up and does an okay job of being Eda’s sister. She has a powerful presence when she’s in a room. And she’s wicked good at manipulating people. 

But that didn’t matter. Lilith bought into the lies. She let herself believe that magical skill was the only way to measure her worth. And since she needed to be the best, she hurt Eda for it.

The beautiful thing is, Eda didn’t buy that. "It’s my power, kid. And before you showed up, I spent my whole life wasting it.” Is what Eda said, as she used up the last of her power, the last of her life, to save Luz. In her final moments, she proved that she’s not like them. She’s stronger than them.

None of this matters. Not magical prowess. Not the hierarchy. Not the promise of joining the Coven and having more power than anyone else.

The only thing that matters to Eda is her family. Her real family. Her Luz, King, and Hooty. And by extension, Willow, Gus, and Amity. Those are Eda’s real reason for fighting, for dying: to protect them. Look, there’s no way she would’ve come out of that fight alive. She has a family, and her love for them is stronger than greed or jealousy or capitalism. 

Lilith never understood that. She thought the water of the womb was thicker than the blood of the covenant. Or, that the water of the womb and the blood of the covenant are stronger than the bonds of found family. She thought it didn’t matter if Eda loved, her, only if the Emperor loved her. Fucking bitch.

And now, a little something to worry about, before we go. Amity Blight. The girl who wanted to join the Emperor’s Coven more than anything, who dedicated her whole life to doing well in school, to being the best, to being perfect.

And then she met Luz. She fell for Luz. Now she’s in a tricky place, where habit and conditioning want her to join the Emperor’s Coven, but her heart wants her to do the impossible and destroy capitalism.

She wasn’t in this episode. Funny that being injured and unable to work ended up saving her from watching her future mother-in-law die. So she bought some time.

But Luz’s true mom is dead. This is the second mom she has lost, and she’s only fourteen. As powerful as King and Hooty are, Luz needs Amity. Luz needs Amity to support her and help her get back her mom.

So Amity has to make a choice. Fear and insecurity, or love and a high chance of death? 

She’ll probably choose death. Because that’s the message that this family-friendly show is giving us kids. Fuck capitalism. All you need in life is to do what makes you happy and be with the ones you love.

[blackwoolncrown]

”This essay has been kicking around in my head for years now and I’ve never felt confident enough to write it. It’s a time in my life I’m ashamed of. It’s a time that I hurt people and, through inaction, allowed others to be hurt. It’s a time that I acted as a violent agent of capitalism and white supremacy. Under the guise of public safety, I personally ruined people’s lives but in so doing, made the public no safer… so did the family members and close friends of mine who also bore the badge alongside me.

But enough is enough.

The reforms aren’t working. Incrementalism isn’t happening. Unarmed Black, indigenous, and people of color are being killed by cops in the streets and the police are savagely attacking the people protesting these murders.

American policing is a thick blue tumor strangling the life from our communities and if you don’t believe it when the poor and the marginalized say it, if you don’t believe it when you see cops across the country shooting journalists with less-lethal bullets and caustic chemicals, maybe you’ll believe it when you hear it straight from the pig’s mouth.”

>>Copied here in case anyone gets paywalled when they click the above. The full article is...a lot.<<

WHY AM I WRITING THIS

As someone who went through the training, hiring, and socialization of a career in law enforcement, I wanted to give a first-hand account of why I believe police officers are the way they are. Not to excuse their behavior, but to explain it and to indict the structures that perpetuate it.

I believe that if everyone understood how we’re trained and brought up in the profession, it would inform the demands our communities should be making of a new way of community safety. If I tell you how we were made, I hope it will empower you to unmake us.

One of the other reasons I’ve struggled to write this essay is that I don’t want to center the conversation on myself and my big salty boo-hoo feelings about my bad choices. It’s a toxic white impulse to see atrocities and think “How can I make this about me?” So, I hope you’ll take me at my word that this account isn’t meant to highlight me, but rather the hundred thousand of me in every city in the country. It’s about the structure that made me (that I chose to pollute myself with) and it’s my meager contribution to the cause of radical justice.

YES, ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS

I was a police officer in a major metropolitan area in California with a predominantly poor, non-white population (with a large proportion of first-generation immigrants). One night during briefing, our watch commander told us that the city council had requested a new zero tolerance policy. Against murderers, drug dealers, or child predators?

No, against homeless people collecting cans from recycling bins.

See, the city had some kickback deal with the waste management company where waste management got paid by the government for our expected tonnage of recycling. When homeless people “stole” that recycling from the waste management company, they were putting that cheaper contract in peril. So, we were to arrest as many recyclers as we could find.

Even for me, this was a stupid policy and I promptly blew Sarge off. But a few hours later, Sarge called me over to assist him. He was detaining a 70 year old immigrant who spoke no English, who he’d seen picking a coke can out of a trash bin. He ordered me to arrest her for stealing trash. I said, “Sarge, c’mon, she’s an old lady.” He said, “I don’t give a shit. Hook her up, that’s an order.” And… I did. She cried the entire way to the station and all through the booking process. I couldn’t even comfort her because I didn’t speak Spanish. I felt disgusting but I was ordered to make this arrest and I wasn’t willing to lose my job for her.

If you’re tempted to feel sympathy for me, don’t. I used to happily hassle the homeless under other circumstances. I researched obscure penal codes so I could arrest people in homeless encampments for lesser known crimes like “remaining too close to railroad property” (369i of the California Penal Code). I used to call it “planting warrant seeds” since I knew they wouldn’t make their court dates and we could arrest them again and again for warrant violations.

We used to have informal contests for who could cite or arrest someone for the weirdest law. DUI on a bicycle, non-regulation number of brooms on your tow truck (27700(a)(1) of the California Vehicle Code)… shit like that. For me, police work was a logic puzzle for arresting people, regardless of their actual threat to the community. As ashamed as I am to admit it, it needs to be said: stripping people of their freedom felt like a game to me for many years.

I know what you’re going to ask: did I ever plant drugs? Did I ever plant a gun on someone? Did I ever make a false arrest or file a false report? Believe it or not, the answer is no. Cheating was no fun, I liked to get my stats the “legitimate” way. But I knew officers who kept a little baggie of whatever or maybe a pocket knife that was a little too big in their war bags (yeah, we called our dufflebags “war bags”…). Did I ever tell anybody about it? No I did not. Did I ever confess my suspicions when cocaine suddenly showed up in a gang member’s jacket? No I did not.

In fact, let me tell you about an extremely formative experience: in my police academy class, we had a clique of around six trainees who routinely bullied and harassed other students: intentionally scuffing another trainee’s shoes to get them in trouble during inspection, sexually harassing female trainees, cracking racist jokes, and so on. Every quarter, we were to write anonymous evaluations of our squadmates. I wrote scathing accounts of their behavior, thinking I was helping keep bad apples out of law enforcement and believing I would be protected. Instead, the academy staff read my complaints to them out loud and outed me to them and never punished them, causing me to get harassed for the rest of my academy class. That’s how I learned that even police leadership hates rats. That’s why no one is “changing things from the inside.” They can’t, the structure won’t allow it.

And that’s the point of what I’m telling you. Whether you were my sergeant, legally harassing an old woman, me, legally harassing our residents, my fellow trainees bullying the rest of us, or “the bad apples” illegally harassing “shitbags”, we were all in it together. I knew cops that pulled women over to flirt with them. I knew cops who would pepper spray sleeping bags so that homeless people would have to throw them away. I knew cops that intentionally provoked anger in suspects so they could claim they were assaulted. I was particularly good at winding people up verbally until they lashed out so I could fight them. Nobody spoke out. Nobody stood up. Nobody betrayed the code.

None of us protected the people (you) from bad cops.

This is why “All cops are bastards.” Even your uncle, even your cousin, even your mom, even your brother, even your best friend, even your spouse, even me. Because even if they wouldn’t Do The Thing themselves, they will almost never rat out another officer who Does The Thing, much less stop it from happening.

BASTARD 101

I could write an entire book of the awful things I’ve done, seen done, and heard others bragging about doing. But, to me, the bigger question is “How did it get this way?”. While I was a police officer in a city 30 miles from where I lived, many of my fellow officers were from the community and treated their neighbors just as badly as I did. While every cop’s individual biases come into play, it’s the profession itself that is toxic, and it starts from day 1 of training.

Every police academy is different but all of them share certain features: taught by old cops, run like a paramilitary bootcamp, strong emphasis on protecting yourself more than anyone else. The majority of my time in the academy was spent doing aggressive physical training and watching video after video after video of police officers being murdered on duty.

I want to highlight this: nearly everyone coming into law enforcement is bombarded with dash cam footage of police officers being ambushed and killed. Over and over and over. Colorless VHS mortality plays, cops screaming for help over their radios, their bodies going limp as a pair of tail lights speed away into a grainy black horizon. In my case, with commentary from an old racist cop who used to brag about assaulting Black Panthers.

To understand why all cops are bastards, you need to understand one of the things almost every training officer told me when it came to using force:

“I’d rather be judged by 12 than carried by 6.”

Meaning, “I’ll take my chances in court rather than risk getting hurt”. We’re able to think that way because police unions are extremely overpowered and because of the generous concept of Qualified Immunity, a legal theory which says a cop generally can’t be held personally liable for mistakes they make doing their job in an official capacity.

When you look at the actions of the officers who killed George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, David McAtee, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, or Freddie Gray, remember that they, like me, were trained to recite “I’d rather be judged by 12” as a mantra. Even if Mistakes Were Made™, the city (meaning the taxpayers, meaning you) pays the settlement, not the officer.

Once police training has - through repetition, indoctrination, and violent spectacle - promised officers that everyone in the world is out to kill them, the next lesson is that your partners are the only people protecting you. Occasionally, this is even true: I’ve had encounters turn on me rapidly to the point I legitimately thought I was going to die, only to have other officers come and turn the tables.

One of the most important thought leaders in law enforcement is Col. Dave Grossman, a “killologist” who wrote an essay called “Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs”. Cops are the sheepdogs, bad guys are the wolves, and the citizens are the sheep (!). Col. Grossman makes sure to mention that to a stupid sheep, sheepdogs look more like wolves than sheep, and that’s why they dislike you.

This “they hate you for protecting them and only I love you, only I can protect you” tactic is familiar to students of abuse. It’s what abusers do to coerce their victims into isolation, pulling them away from friends and family and ensnaring them in the abuser’s toxic web. Law enforcement does this too, pitting the officer against civilians. “They don’t understand what you do, they don’t respect your sacrifice, they just want to get away with crimes. You’re only safe with us.”

I think the Wolves vs. Sheepdogs dynamic is one of the most important elements as to why officers behave the way they do. Every single second of my training, I was told that criminals were not a legitimate part of their community, that they were individual bad actors, and that their bad actions were solely the result of their inherent criminality. Any concept of systemic trauma, generational poverty, or white supremacist oppression was either never mentioned or simply dismissed. After all, most people don’t steal, so anyone who does isn’t “most people,” right? To us, anyone committing a crime deserved anything that happened to them because they broke the “social contract.” And yet, it was never even a question as to whether the power structure above them was honoring any sort of contract back.

Understand: Police officers are part of the state monopoly on violence and all police training reinforces this monopoly as a cornerstone of police work, a source of honor and pride. Many cops fantasize about getting to kill someone in the line of duty, egged on by others that have. One of my training officers told me about the time he shot and killed a mentally ill homeless man wielding a big stick. He bragged that he “slept like a baby” that night. Official training teaches you how to be violent effectively and when you’re legally allowed to deploy that violence, but “unofficial training” teaches you to desire violence, to expand the breadth of your violence without getting caught, and to erode your own compassion for desperate people so you can justify punitive violence against them.

HOW TO BE A BASTARD

I have participated in some of these activities personally, others are ones I either witnessed personally or heard officers brag about openly. Very, very occasionally, I knew an officer who was disciplined or fired for one of these things.

Police officers will lie about the law, about what’s illegal, or about what they can legally do to you in order to manipulate you into doing what they want.

Police officers will lie about feeling afraid for their life to justify a use of force after the fact.

Police officers will lie and tell you they’ll file a police report just to get you off their back.

Police officers will lie that your cooperation will “look good for you” in court, or that they will “put in a good word for you with the DA.” The police will never help you look good in court.

Police officers will lie about what they see and hear to access private property to conduct unlawful searches.

Police officers will lie and say your friend already ratted you out, so you might as well rat them back out. This is almost never true.

Police officers will lie and say you’re not in trouble in order to get you to exit a location or otherwise make an arrest more convenient for them.

Police officers will lie and say that they won’t arrest you if you’ll just “be honest with them” so they know what really happened.

Police officers will lie about their ability to seize the property of friends and family members to coerce a confession.

Police officers will write obviously bullshit tickets so that they get time-and-a-half overtime fighting them in court.

Police officers will search places and containers you didn’t consent to and later claim they were open or “smelled like marijuana”.

Police officers will threaten you with a more serious crime they can’t prove in order to convince you to confess to the lesser crime they really want you for.

Police officers will employ zero tolerance on races and ethnicities they dislike and show favor and lenience to members of their own group.

Police officers will use intentionally extra-painful maneuvers and holds during an arrest to provoke “resistance” so they can further assault the suspect.

Some police officers will plant drugs and weapons on you, sometimes to teach you a lesson, sometimes if they kill you somewhere away from public view.

Some police officers will assault you to intimidate you and threaten to arrest you if you tell anyone.

A non-trivial number of police officers will steal from your house or vehicle during a search.

A non-trivial number of police officers commit intimate partner violence and use their status to get away with it.

A non-trivial number of police officers use their position to entice, coerce, or force sexual favors from vulnerable people.

If you take nothing else away from this essay, I want you to tattoo this onto your brain forever: if a police officer is telling you something, it is probably a lie designed to gain your compliance.

Do not talk to cops and never, ever believe them. Do not “try to be helpful” with cops. Do not assume they are trying to catch someone else instead of you. Do not assume what they are doing is “important” or even legal. Under no circumstances assume any police officer is acting in good faith.

Also, and this is important, do not talk to cops.

I just remembered something, do not talk to cops.

Checking my notes real quick, something jumped out at me:

Do

not

fucking

talk

to

cops.

Ever.

Say, “I don’t answer questions,” and ask if you’re free to leave; if so, leave. If not, tell them you want your lawyer and that, per the Supreme Court, they must terminate questioning. If they don’t, file a complaint and collect some badges for your mantle.

DO THE BASTARDS EVER HELP?

Reading the above, you may be tempted to ask whether cops ever do anything good. And the answer is, sure, sometimes. In fact, most officers I worked with thought they were usually helping the helpless and protecting the safety of innocent people.

During my tenure in law enforcement, I protected women from domestic abusers, arrested cold-blooded murderers and child molesters, and comforted families who lost children to car accidents and other tragedies. I helped connect struggling people in my community with local resources for food, shelter, and counseling. I deescalated situations that could have turned violent and talked a lot of people down from making the biggest mistake of their lives. I worked with plenty of officers who were individually kind, bought food for homeless residents, or otherwise showed care for their community.

The question is this: did I need a gun and sweeping police powers to help the average person on the average night? The answer is no. When I was doing my best work as a cop, I was doing mediocre work as a therapist or a social worker. My good deeds were listening to people failed by the system and trying to unite them with any crumbs of resources the structure was currently denying them.

It’s also important to note that well over 90% of the calls for service I handled were reactive, showing up well after a crime had taken place. We would arrive, take a statement, collect evidence (if any), file the report, and onto the next caper. Most “active” crimes we stopped were someone harmless possessing or selling a small amount of drugs. Very, very rarely would we stop something dangerous in progress or stop something from happening entirely. The closest we could usually get was seeing someone running away from the scene of a crime, but the damage was still done.

And consider this: my job as a police officer required me to be a marriage counselor, a mental health crisis professional, a conflict negotiator, a social worker, a child advocate, a traffic safety expert, a sexual assault specialist, and, every once in awhile, a public safety officer authorized to use force, all after only a 1000 hours of training at a police academy. Does the person we send to catch a robber also need to be the person we send to interview a rape victim or document a fender bender? Should one profession be expected to do all that important community care (with very little training) all at the same time?

To put this another way: I made double the salary most social workers made to do a fraction of what they could do to mitigate the causes of crimes and desperation. I can count very few times my monopoly on state violence actually made our citizens safer, and even then, it’s hard to say better-funded social safety nets and dozens of other community care specialists wouldn’t have prevented a problem before it started.

Armed, indoctrinated (and dare I say, traumatized) cops do not make you safer; community mutual aid networks who can unite other people with the resources they need to stay fed, clothed, and housed make you safer. I really want to hammer this home: every cop in your neighborhood is damaged by their training, emboldened by their immunity, and they have a gun and the ability to take your life with near-impunity. This does not make you safer, even if you’re white.

HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE A BASTARD?

So what do we do about it? Even though I’m an expert on bastardism, I am not a public policy expert nor an expert in organizing a post-police society. So, before I give some suggestions, let me tell you what probably won’t solve the problem of bastard cops:

Increased “bias” training. A quarterly or even monthly training session is not capable of covering over years of trauma-based camaraderie in police forces. I can tell you from experience, we don’t take it seriously, the proctors let us cheat on whatever “tests” there are, and we all made fun of it later over coffee.

Tougher laws. I hope you understand by now, cops do not follow the law and will not hold each other accountable to the law. Tougher laws are all the more reason to circle the wagons and protect your brothers and sisters.

More community policing programs. Yes, there is a marginal effect when a few cops get to know members of the community, but look at the protests of 2020: many of the cops pepper-spraying journalists were probably the nice school cop a month ago.

Police officers do not protect and serve people, they protect and serve the status quo, “polite society”, and private property. Using the incremental mechanisms of the status quo will never reform the police because the status quo relies on police violence to exist. Capitalism requires a permanent underclass to exploit for cheap labor and it requires the cops to bring that underclass to heel.

Instead of wasting time with minor tweaks, I recommend exploring the following ideas:

No more qualified immunity. Police officers should be personally liable for all decisions they make in the line of duty.

No more civil asset forfeiture. Did you know that every year, citizens like you lose more cash and property to unaccountable civil asset forfeiture than to all burglaries combined? The police can steal your stuff without charging you with a crime and it makes some police departments very rich.

Break the power of police unions. Police unions make it nearly impossible to fire bad cops and incentivize protecting them to protect the power of the union. A police union is not a labor union; police officers are powerful state agents, not exploited workers.

Require malpractice insurance. Doctors must pay for insurance in case they botch a surgery, police officers should do the same for botching a police raid or other use of force. If human decency won’t motivate police to respect human life, perhaps hitting their wallet might.

Defund, demilitarize, and disarm cops. Thousands of police departments own assault rifles, armored personnel carriers, and stuff you’d see in a warzone. Police officers have grants and huge budgets to spend on guns, ammo, body armor, and combat training. 99% of calls for service require no armed response, yet when all you have is a gun, every problem feels like target practice. Cities are not safer when unaccountable bullies have a monopoly on state violence and the equipment to execute that monopoly.

One final idea: consider abolishing the police.

I know what you’re thinking, “What? We need the police! They protect us!” As someone who did it for nearly a decade, I need you to understand that by and large, police protection is marginal, incidental. It’s an illusion created by decades of copaganda designed to fool you into thinking these brave men and women are holding back the barbarians at the gates.

I alluded to this above: the vast majority of calls for service I handled were theft reports, burglary reports, domestic arguments that hadn’t escalated into violence, loud parties, (houseless) people loitering, traffic collisions, very minor drug possession, and arguments between neighbors. Mostly the mundane ups and downs of life in the community, with little inherent danger. And, like I mentioned, the vast majority of crimes I responded to (even violent ones) had already happened; my unaccountable license to kill was irrelevant.

What I mainly provided was an “objective” third party with the authority to document property damage, ask people to chill out or disperse, or counsel people not to beat each other up. A trained counselor or conflict resolution specialist would be ten times more effective than someone with a gun strapped to his hip wondering if anyone would try to kill him when he showed up. There are many models for community safety that can be explored if we get away from the idea that the only way to be safe is to have a man with a M4 rifle prowling your neighborhood ready at a moment’s notice to write down your name and birthday after you’ve been robbed and beaten.

You might be asking, “What about the armed robbers, the gangsters, the drug dealers, the serial killers?” And yes, in the city I worked, I regularly broke up gang parties, found gang members carrying guns, and handled homicides. I’ve seen some tragic things, from a reformed gangster shot in the head with his brains oozing out to a fifteen year old boy taking his last breath in his screaming mother’s arms thanks to a gang member’s bullet. I know the wages of violence.

This is where we have to have the courage to ask: why do people rob? Why do they join gangs? Why do they get addicted to drugs or sell them? It’s not because they are inherently evil. I submit to you that these are the results of living in a capitalist system that grinds people down and denies them housing, medical care, human dignity, and a say in their government. These are the results of white supremacy pushing people to the margins, excluding them, disrespecting them, and treating their bodies as disposable.

Equally important to remember: disabled and mentally ill people are frequently killed by police officers not trained to recognize and react to disabilities or mental health crises. Some of the people we picture as “violent offenders” are often people struggling with untreated mental illness, often due to economic hardships. Very frequently, the officers sent to “protect the community” escalate this crisis and ultimately wound or kill the person. Your community was not made safer by police violence; a sick member of your community was killed because it was cheaper than treating them. Are you extremely confident you’ll never get sick one day too?

Wrestle with this for a minute: if all of someone’s material needs were met and all the members of their community were fed, clothed, housed, and dignified, why would they need to join a gang? Why would they need to risk their lives selling drugs or breaking into buildings? If mental healthcare was free and was not stigmatized, how many lives would that save?

Would there still be a few bad actors in the world? Sure, probably. What’s my solution for them, you’re no doubt asking. I’ll tell you what: generational poverty, food insecurity, houselessness, and for-profit medical care are all problems that can be solved in our lifetimes by rejecting the dehumanizing meat grinder of capitalism and white supremacy. Once that’s done, we can work on the edge cases together, with clearer hearts not clouded by a corrupt system.

Police abolition is closely related to the idea of prison abolition and the entire concept of banishing the carceral state, meaning, creating a society focused on reconciliation and restorative justice instead of punishment, pain, and suffering — a system that sees people in crisis as humans, not monsters. People who want to abolish the police typically also want to abolish prisons, and the same questions get asked: “What about the bad guys? Where do we put them?” I bring this up because abolitionists don’t want to simply replace cops with armed social workers or prisons with casual detention centers full of puffy leather couches and Playstations. We imagine a world not divided into good guys and bad guys, but rather a world where people’s needs are met and those in crisis receive care, not dehumanization.

Here’s legendary activist and thinker Angela Y. Davis putting it better than I ever could:

“An abolitionist approach that seeks to answer questions such as these would require us to imagine a constellation of alternative strategies and institutions, with the ultimate aim of removing the prison from the social and ideological landscapes of our society. In other words, we would not be looking for prisonlike substitutes for the prison, such as house arrest safeguarded by electronic surveillance bracelets. Rather, positing decarceration as our overarching strategy, we would try to envision a continuum of alternatives to imprisonment-demilitarization of schools, revitalization of education at all levels, a health system that provides free physical and mental care to all, and a justice system based on reparation and reconciliation rather than retribution and vengeance.”

(Are Prisons Obsolete, pg. 107)

I’m not telling you I have the blueprint for a beautiful new world. What I’m telling you is that the system we have right now is broken beyond repair and that it’s time to consider new ways of doing community together. Those new ways need to be negotiated by members of those communities, particularly Black, indigenous, disabled, houseless, and citizens of color historically shoved into the margins of society. Instead of letting Fox News fill your head with nightmares about Hispanic gangs, ask the Hispanic community what they need to thrive. Instead of letting racist politicians scaremonger about pro-Black demonstrators, ask the Black community what they need to meet the needs of the most vulnerable. If you truly desire safety, ask not what your most vulnerable can do for the community, ask what the community can do for the most vulnerable.

A WORLD WITH FEWER BASTARDS IS POSSIBLE

If you take only one thing away from this essay, I hope it’s this: do not talk to cops. But if you only take two things away, I hope the second one is that it’s possible to imagine a different world where unarmed black people, indigenous people, poor people, disabled people, and people of color are not routinely gunned down by unaccountable police officers. It doesn’t have to be this way. Yes, this requires a leap of faith into community models that might feel unfamiliar, but I ask you:

When you see a man dying in the street begging for breath, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a mother or a daughter shot to death sleeping in their beds, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a twelve year old boy executed in a public park for the crime of playing with a toy, jesus fucking christ, can you really just stand there and think “This is normal”?

And to any cops who made it this far down, is this really the world you want to live in? Aren’t you tired of the trauma? Aren’t you tired of the soul sickness inherent to the badge? Aren’t you tired of looking the other way when your partners break the law? Are you really willing to kill the next George Floyd, the next Breonna Taylor, the next Tamir Rice? How confident are you that your next use of force will be something you’re proud of? I’m writing this for you too: it’s wrong what our training did to us, it’s wrong that they hardened our hearts to our communities, and it’s wrong to pretend this is normal.

Look, I wouldn’t have been able to hear any of this for much of my life. You reading this now may not be able to hear this yet either. But do me this one favor: just think about it. Just turn it over in your mind for a couple minutes. “Yes, And” me for a minute. Look around you and think about the kind of world you want to live in. Is it one where an all-powerful stranger with a gun keeps you and your neighbors in line with the fear of death, or can you picture a world where, as a community, we embrace our most vulnerable, meet their needs, heal their wounds, honor their dignity, and make them family instead of desperate outsiders?

If you take only three things away from this essay, I hope the third is this: you and your community don’t need bastards to thrive.

RESOURCES TO YES-AND WITH

Achele Mbembe — Necropolitics

Angela Y. Davis — Are Prisons Obsolete?

CriticalResistance.org — Abolition Toolkit

Joe Macaré, Maya Schenwar, and Alana Yu-lan Price — Who Do You Serve, Who Do You Protect?

Ruth Wilson Gilmore — COVID-19, Decarceration, Abolition [video]

[blacksunscorpio]

Astro Musings No. 6

Libra Lilith

Makes one have a charm that can be deadly. The type to entice someone effortlessly. They are the types to appear innocent but have a bit of a Machiavellian ace up their sleeves. They can be subtly controlling and hard to resist. If in the 12th House, they can manipulate subconsciously and their prey

the object of their affections might not be able to see what’s going on. This can make this placement even harder to resist than a Lilith in Scorpio Jupiter square Lilith in natally or in synastry will make two people gluttons for sex. Or it will make a native a glutton for sex. Not a bad aspect but just make sure to practice safe sex and wear condoms. Worst that can happen is an STD, pregnancy if you’re not ready for it, or wearing yourself out. Your North Node

Falling into your 7th house makes one’s life direction and goal tied to their relationships. The key in this life is to care for others and be “other” oriented. If it hasn’t appeared in life [yet], you can be sure that it will manifest at some point or another.  This placement calls you to put others' needs before your own. If this happens, the key is to know that in this lifetime, your needs won’t be met until you give selflessly to another.

Advice?

Don’t rescue others. Don’t be a captain save-a-hoe. However, there’s no need to cut others off either. [Scorpios and Taureans with this placement, I know this might be difficult for you ;) ] Empower others. Listen. Help others/the ones you care for discover their own strength.

Asteroid Apollo

In astrology, is where you can take something for granted, and ignore it to your detriment. So if your Apollo is touching your Mercury for example, you can take your mind for granted. However, when you focus on it, you can become a master. in synastry, it can be the aspect that makes one enthralled with another. Kind of like Lilith or Pluto. Remember, Apollo is master of the Sun. The other person can see Apollo as this vibrant light. There can be a Luciferian light almost. Undeniably beautiful [remember the only thing that kept Lucifer from being God is the fact that he was created. Let that sink in.]  Obsessive energy with that planet/point. If harshly aspected there will be imbalance so there’s a constant need for harmony.

If One Half of Your Natal Chart is Empty... This indicates you most likely have a Bowl Chart Pattern. It typically manifests as an individual who is self-contained, has strong core values, and a strong streak of dependability. Most of their energy is within 180 degrees of their chart.

6th House Stelliums

Bring a strong focus on health and work. This house is ruled by Virgo. Indicated that there can be strong obsessive compulsions in the aforementioned subjects. If Mercury is here, this is particularly apparent. If the Sun lives here within a stellium they can be quite self-conscious. They’ll be forever working on how to be “their best selves” but won’t give themselves much grace. This particular configuration creates an excess of energy coming into the activities and affairs of this house. It generates obsessive energy. These people can throw their all into their work. The types to pull long hours and work overtime even if they don’t need the extra cash. If Mars is within said stellium, they’ll be types to binge eat but then work out for 4 hours just to burn off the calories. Trigger warning: I often see those who’ve suffered from Anorexia or Bulimia with this placement. They can have a hard time relaxing. Hypochondriacs live here as well. Advice? Take a break and get away from work and have private time. Mind your health but don’t leave it up to you alone. Seek a licensed professional to aid with recovery if you sense you might have issues that are hard to overcome. On a positive note, these individuals can become very good health gurus or at their best, be the types to excel at work and/or fitness.

Mercury Conjunct Lilith in Synastry

Indicates two people who will be intrigued or turned on by the other's mind. The Lilith person can act like Pluto [but remember synastry can go both ways] and kind of dig into the depths of Mercury’s mind. It may make Mercury feel quite uncomfortable if there are hard aspects. The Lilith person might make Mercury fantasize about some pretty illicit shit. They might obsess over them mentally. On the other hand, Lilith can find Mercury fascinating [especially in harmonious aspect] and will want to know everything about them. They can share very deep secrets with each other. Be careful about mind-games or mental manipulation. If this were to be a Tarot combination I’d see it as the Magician and the 5 of Swords 100%. Pisces Martians hate to fight and will usually be the first person to call for peace when in a quarrel. Libra Mars’ are actually the types to fight for justice and will be feistier than you think. Though Sagittarius and Gemini are Opposites... Their commonalities are their charm. Gemini’s and Sag’s can be among some of the friendliest in the zodiac. If you’re looking for the life of the party, look out for a Solar archer or twin. In addition, both can be rather detached emotionally. Sag’s are always looking outward. Think the 3 of wands in Tarot. They’re expansive. Looking for the next big adventure. Gemini’s are the social butterflies of the Zodiac, so what they’ll seek is a new friend, acquaintance, or new subject to occupy their time with. Both get bored VERY easily. They need massive amounts of mental stimulation to keep them happy. Sag’s mental stimulation has more to do with the higher mind [travel, languages, philosophy, spirituality], while Gemini’s have to do with the lower mind [numbers, words, basic intellect, etc.] Though Pisces and Virgo are Opposites... Their commonalities lie in the fact that both are introverted by nature. As mentioned above, Virgo rules the 6th house which governs work and routine. Virgos can retreat into themselves while they break things down and organize. The same with Pisceans when they get into reverie-mode. When they get into their creative trances. Pisces’ ancient ruler is Jupiter which rules the mind just like Virgo’s Ruler Mercury does. The mutable quality of their signs will allow them to jump from topic to topic, both of them staying interested in the flow and the outcome of their conversations. Sagittarius and Taurus Though fire and earth, both capitalize in the realm of indulgence. Jupiter can rule addictions just as much as Neptune and Pluto can. Venus can be hedonistic by nature as well. Both can have a tendency to overindulge. Both are quite blunt. Sag has 0 filter and Taurus is master of sarcasm and blunt statements. Both are unable to sugarcoat. Remember to be real but a little tact never hurt anyone, lol.  When You Have two signs in one house... It will also depend upon the degree of cusp both the signs make in the house. So, the energy of one sign diminishes slowly and the energy of the next sign rises slowly. For example with Leo and Virgo will play an equal part in the house and the Sun and Mercury will rule equally. If your Midheaven is in Aquarius You find satisfaction in the unordinary. There is a desire to stand out unusually. Ambition can be based in the intellectual realm since Uranus rules this sign. Uranians have the highest forms of analytical intelligence. They can excel in connecting with people. Their reputation can surprise. Many may have heard of the or speak about them. The quintessential individual whose “reputation precedes them”. They may try to shock others on purpose. However, though their public persona can be known for their charitable works they can be very opinionated and stark in their views. When under-developed they may be too stubborn to entertain other modes of thought. It’s the nature of fixed air to never change [fixed] their minds [air]. Traditional vs. non-traditional is a struggle in how they approach the world, others, and the success they wish to achieve.     1st House Venus will wear their heart on their sleeve. If Venus is in Capricorn, they may a bit slower to move in love. Perhaps take a more serious approach to things. If harmonious, it can bless some natives with life partners who may have well-established professions. Other times they show their love outwardly in practical ways. They’ll SHOW you how they love by making sure you feel secure and taken care of financially. They’ll want to leave a legacy for their children with their partner. They’ll want their kids to have generational wealth to past down. I often see this aspect with people who have a suffix in their name. Like John Doe the 3rd or someone who has a father or mother who is a Jr. People with this placement may name their children after a family member. Remember the 1st house is the house of self. If Venus is in Cancer, they may be shy in love or adversely they can be very clingy or possessive to their partner or their partner can depend on them too much-- there may be a “mommy” thing going on.

If you’re looking for “immediate attraction” in synastry...

It’s not Pluto. Surprised? People mistake that love at first sight thing for Plutonic influence, but Pluto is shy by nature. Hades minds his business. His obsession will grow though the longer he studies and spends time getting to know you. That's when he’ll start netting up the web.

Uranus is who hits you with that out of the blue. Uranus/Venus interaspects

Can make people feel that instant attraction from out of nowhere. Asteroid Cupido can inflict this on two people as well. In mythology, Cupid son of Venus; his job was to "wound" the unwary with his arrows of love; awaken a consuming affection directed towards a particular object of desire. In astrology, the asteroid Cupido itself is associated with initial enthrallment and acts of seduction performed in order to obtain the love object, not the sexual act itself. It’s the “look of love.” Examples of an overactive Cupido can include crushes, cultivating romance for the sake of the game, or putting the object of desire up on a pedestal. In the dark sense, romantic enthrallment can originate out of a love for the chase, only to abandon the prey once it is caught. That can happen with love at first sight if there aren’t stable and grounded aspects to lock two people together. Uranus also represents sudden breaks, so there can be on-again-off-again tendencies in relationships like this.

Common placements found in people who are surgeons and physicians are often:

Strong Virgo aspects or earth placements

Mercury rules the hands. Virgo is dissecting and analytical. The 6th house is also about health and service. They love to take things apart and put them back together.

Capricorn

as well is quite grounded so they often have steady hands- something a surgeon needs if they are to stand for 10 hours straight during an open heart procedure.

Plutonians

tend to be quite good with medical/surgeon/mortician occupations. Blood, the raw parts of humanity, death does not scare these people. They like to know how things work from the inside. I also see many Moon-Pluto

people with surgical prowess. This aspect I often see in gynecologists. Last but not least, Strong Mars is not afraid of gore or blood. Mars is often seen in surgeons. Mars is all about blood and broken bones. As a result, those with Mars in Aquarius is often seen in orthopedic surgeons. Mars in Cancer or Mars touching Chiron can be good rehabilitation or out-patient doctors. Physical therapists as well.

Your Elevated Planet at an Anaretic degree

[last degree in a sign] can make one feel like they have to rush to become successful. To reach the pinnacle of their dreams as soon as possible. They may feel like no matter how much success they have it is never enough. There may be constant transformation to this most elevated. The closer to the MC, the more it will display itself in public life. They may build and rebuild their reputation over and over again. Take Robert Downey Jr. whose most elevated planet is Neptune [like most actors]. It is at 29 degrees and we see him go from drug-addled Hollywood bad boy just for that reputation to die [29 degrees] and then be reborn into Sherlock Holmes and our beloved Tony Stark [RIP].

If you find yourself able to adapt to most kinds of music

Check to see if your Mercury [communication] or Venus [what you appreciate] is in a mutable sign, a water sign. Also check to see if your moon is mutable or in a water sign. Jupiter is also the ancient ruler of Pisces and he rules expansion and joy. Music is often considered a source of joy and higher thinking. Strong Jupiterian influence can make someone like different kinds of music. Uranian placements such as Sun/Moon or Venus too, it can also be processed very much by the subconscious, So look for  Strong Neptunian or 12th House influence. Strong Virgo placements too since music is technically a science. Why? Because it can be measured. 

Gemini Moons 

Especially in the 2nd house will feel most secure in an intellectual environment. They may also excel monetarily by using their minds to make money. Writing books or setting up podcasts to get their thoughts [mercury]  and voices [2nd house] out there.

Sugar Babies... Are usually the Venus in a Venus/Saturn situation, the Moon in a Saturn/Moon connections, or the Moon in a Moon/Pluto connection. Lilith in trine aspect to another planet in synastry brings out the best in Lilith... Yes, they can still be intense but you’ll see less of her “demonic” energy and more of her benevolent yet wild seductress aspect. With Venus, she’ll bring out the erotic side between both people. Borderline Hedonism in both people. She’ll make a more austere planet like Saturn open up. Make him comfortable with his depraved side instead of flogging himself like a penitent monk in private over it.

Dangerous Natal Placements Can Be:

Neptune in the 8th [rules drownings, suicides, death by mysterious means]

Gemini 8th House

[Can rule breathing issues]

Aries 8th House

[Rules violent deaths or those who can be prone to violence. Be it dishing it out or receiving it.]

Saturn square Pluto

Can make someone quite cruel.

3 or more malefic aspects to Jupiter is often found in psychopaths.

Jupiter in the chart is where we show the most benevolence. Forgiveness and Kindness. If Jupiter is having a hard time, a person may be emotionally stunted or out of touch with their spiritual side. 

Dominant Nessus

Can make someone an abuser.

Mercury in hard aspect to Uranus or Neptune

can cause mental imbalances or someone who has sudden breaks of the mind. The native will need to take care to make their mental health a priority.

Excessive malefic placements to Mercury

Can make someone a pathological liar or have a difficult time telling the truth. 

Algol in hard aspect to Pluto, Sado, Nessus, Saturn

Can also indicate cruelty but also someone who gets pleasure from it. Yikes.

Underdeveloped Leo placements:

Can make a native only focused on their ego and their ego alone which can make them into quite self-serving and as a result, they can suffer from megalomania. Same with Underdeveloped Arian/Martian placements. Hitler was an Aries and Benito Mussolini was a Leo/Apollonian. I’ll just leave that there.

5th house synastry

Makes two people have fun together. If the moon is there they will know what makes the other person “feel” good. What that person needs to make them laugh.

Your 12th House Planets

Are the Planets that are either hidden or expressed more in secret. The ones that have a harder time expressing or exposing themselves.

A 12th House Leo Planet

may only feel brave when they alone. These are the types to take part in drama or be thespians in school because they are easily able to express themselves when they feel they have the safety net of a mask.

A 12th House Cancerian

Planet will find it harder to express emotion or be a bit shyer.

12th House Plutonian Placements

may be extremely introverted and perhaps find themselves able to express themselves more online/ in secret. They can be good at covert ops or spying. They can even be quite psychic. 

12th House Venus/ Venusian people can find love to feel dreamy or even goes unexpressed. Dreamy romantics. They can be unconditional in love but sometimes they can get carried away with their fantasies OR they can love the fantasy of love more than the reality which may cause them to either project their fantasies on others or never fully commit because no one will ever live up to the fantasy they’ve created in their minds about someone else. Take care to love who you love because of who they are. Don’t force anyone to fit into a mold they’re not made for. Astro Musings No. 1 Astro Musings No. 2  Astro Musings No. 3 Astro Musings No. 4  Astro Musings No. 5 Astro Musings No. 7 Astro Musings No. 8  Astro Musings No. 9  Astro Musings No. 10

[etakeh]

re: parallels between Chernobyl & East Palestine, OH and their direct reflection on a broken and unethical capitalist system

Transcript below the cut

I don't know how many of you watched the HBO Chernobyl mini series - if you haven't go watch it. it's amazing. But that show presents us with one of like the most horrific examples of dramatic irony that I can think of, because we watch this happen. We watch the meltdown happen. And we watch it through the eyes of the workers and first responders and the people who actually live there. And as this whole thing unfolds, we, the audience, are watching in horror as these first responders get to the scene, and are completely ignorant of the fact that they are being exposed to deadly amounts of radiation. So as we're watching this, we're left horrified in our knowledge of what is actually happening to these people. And I say this because, as I watch the videos of the black smoke being belched into the air outside of East Palestine, Ohio, I can't help but wonder if we are the future dramatic irony of a horrified audience. Now I honestly don't know. I don't have the scientific knowledge or expertise to make that kind of judgement. But I think there are some really frightening and poignant parallels to Chernobyl in this current disaster, and I think probably the most infuriating and mundane one is that this was completely preventable. It was like, what, 3, 4 months ago that we had rail workers on TV ready to strike. Telling us how they were looking for sick pay, and how inevitable a disaster like East Palestine was because of how understaffed the railroads were. And what did we do with that? Did we listen to them? Did we understand them? Did we give them what they wanted? Did we give them sick time or properly staffed railroads? No. What we did was sided with the corporations and we forced them back to work. Norfolk Southern, the rail company responsible for this fucking disaster, recorded record profits of 32 billion fucking dollars in the 4th quarter of 2022. So when you see the blackened, acrid skies in East Palestine and the rivers full of dead fish; when you watch the government and corporations lying to our fucking faces and saying everything us under control, know that this is the cost of capitalism in modern America. Whatever utopian ideal some of you have for what it could be is a fantasy. And maybe the most bitter and cynical part of this is that we could have stopped it. But those same corporations have spent decades pumping money into our political system, making sure that we stay at each other's throats, believing that we're part of a ruling class that has nothing but contempt for us. Our gods are the Fords and the Rockefellers and the Vanderbilts. Our identities are carved out of our continued exploitation and our belief is that the more we work and toil for the corporations, the more rightious we are. I really wish I had some hopeful way to end this, some way to appeal to our collective will, but every time this shit happens, nothing changes. Like maybe a corporation gets fined an iota of their worth, or, in rare cases, a member of the elite ruling class is sacrificed to maintain the underlying captialist structure. But there's never justice to the victims of the system. There's never some fundemental change. We're left staring at this bloated mutated oligopoly, feeling like ants staring at a magnifying glass. Wondering what the fuck we can possibly do.

Chernobyl

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 1

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, mentions of death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia and other warnings to be added

This is dark!Bucky Barnes with a likelihood off dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Someone’s watching you.

Note: This one’s gonna be a bit creepy as it features a serial killer and stalking and all sorts of creepery. It’ll be about two or three parts!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The bleak headline glared across your screen as bleaker weather fogged the glass of your window. 

'Grisly murder suspected to be connected to previous incident'. 

You shivered as the steam rose from your mug and the smell of roasted bean filled your nose. The city was on edge. Death was not unfamiliar but killings so methodical were. There was a pattern that no one could deny, even if the media left out certain bloody details.

You tapped the porcelain and turned to look at the misty cityscape beyond your building. The city had a pulse; the car horns, the puffing manholes, the endless parade of footsteps on the pavement. The immortal metropolitan was unaffected by its mortal occupants.

You closed the window on your phone as you turned back. You couldn’t finish the article. To think that any human could do that to another; that any should suffer at the hands of another… One could never truly be immune to the helpless despair. It was a chance that set one in the hands of a monster, as much chance kept one from the same fate. 

You finished your coffee and ate a bagel before you readied for another day lost in the sea of people below. Another day at your desk answering phones and staring at a screen between greeting many who acknowledge your existence with impatient disdain. 

The same daily ritual in the mirror; another department store blouse, another grey skirt, another pair of low pumps. You grabbed your pea coat and your leather tote and hurried out to catch your train. Twenty minutes with your favourite podcast before you pulled the cord and ran off into the concrete jungle.

Another coffee at your desk; the watery fare from the staff room machine. You sat and began your work. Fake smiles and a sickly sweet voice for every caller and visitor to the small office. Log this, change this, email that. The mindless toil bearable only for the promise of your box-like apartment and its tiny comforts. 

You never stayed in the office for lunch. Not anymore. It made the days suffocating, even on rainy or snowy days. You went to the park to eat, although sometimes you weren’t hungry. You watched the ducks or the shedding trees or the teens playing hooky and puffing none so subtly near the bushes.

When you returned, you felt at least that your break hadn’t been wasted even if it had only been more sitting. Ring, ring, click, click, tap, tap, cough, cough. The hours wore on in monotony. Nothing unexpected, nothing more than tedium. The most exciting part was when the clock bid you to leave.

You were almost so lost in the endless banality that you didn’t notice the man behind you until you boarded the train. Until you sat and took out your phone. You pretended to be enraptured by the screen as you scrolled through unread emails and peeked up at him. He stood by the door. His eyes avoided yours.

When you stood at your stop, he did not move. Not until the door began to close and you were near the turnstiles. His shadow was a fleck at the edge of your vision. He was definitely following you. You thought of the article, and its precursor the week before; the suggestion that the murderer had already amassed half a dozen victims. You shrugged away the paranoia and climbed the old filthy steps to ground level.

As you turned the corner onto your street you stopped and waited. The man nearly passed you as he came around the bend and you cleared your throat. You gripped your keys in your fist, ready to stab the man with the largest one.

“You following me?” You asked as pedestrians bumped into him and passed by. 

He moved out of their path and stood beside you against the wall. He smiled to himself and scoffed. His blue eyes ran you up and down and you felt as if you’d seen him before. As if you knew him from somewhere. You just couldn’t place it.

“I am.” He confessed. “You’re very… observant.”

“You’re not very subtle,” you countered. 

He lifted his head and reached inside his jacket. He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. Capitals ran across the top; S.H.I.E.L.D. and below a name and picture; James Buchanan Barnes. You sighed and crossed your arms. Your spine went rigid. What on earth could he want from you?

“So…” You pushed yourself away from the brick wall, “How exactly can I help a government operative?”

He glanced around and tucked away his wallet. “Is there anywhere private we can talk? You live around here?”

“Private? At least tell me what’s going on?” You huffed.

“For both our safety, you need to wait for that answer,” he hook his thumb in his jean pocket. “But if you don’t give a shit, I can leave you be and see what happens.”

You frowned. You were confused and slightly afraid. You couldn’t guess at what could have brought him to you. A man you’d only ever seen on a screen.

“Fine,” you adjusted your bag on your shoulder, “Across the street.”

He followed you to the curb as the blood swelled in your ears. Your cheeks were hot and a chill gripped your neck. You crossed between the flooded New York traffic, aware of his shadow at your shoulder. His boots barely made a noise on the pavement as your short heels clicked noisily.

You led him into your lobby and fumbled with your keys. You shoved them into the slot and the door clicked open. He grabbed it before you could and waved you inside. You remembered him now. You rarely saw him without another. In your mind, the man didn’t exist exclusive to his old pal, Steve Rogers.

You stopped just inside the door and kept yourself from hitting the elevator button.

“Mr., er, Agent Barnes--” You began.

“Bucky is fine.” He corrected

“How do you even know who I am?” You asked suddenly. “I’m… nobody.”

“As I said, I’d prefer somewhere private,” he urged, “It’s protocol for this type of circumstance.”

“And which type is that?” You challenged as he stepped around you and hit the button.

“The type where you should stop worrying so much about me and more about yourself,” he said as the doors slid open, “Come on.” He stepped inside and turned, “What floor.”

“Third.” You answered as you entered the small box, “I’m in danger?”

He was quiet and his left hand balled into a fist then released as he stared at the numbers. You could hear the strain in the leather glove. 

When the doors opened again, he let you off first and kept a step behind you as you led him down the hall to your door. You paused and looked back at him as you picked out the right key. He was impossible to figure out; stone-faced and staunch. You opened your door and welcomed him in with a flutter of fingers.

He shut the door and locked it behind him. You dropped your bag on the shoe rack and kicked your shoes beneath it. Your arches were sore as you backed up and watched him. He looked at his boots and back at you. You shrugged off your jacket and he sighed before he did the same. He reluctantly knelt to unknot the laces of his boots.

“Should I… get you something? Coffee?”

“This isn’t exactly social,” he uttered, “Can we sit? There’s a lot to… explain.”

“Sure,” you led him to the couch and sat. He lowered himself on the other cushion, on the edge as he kept an eye on you.

“Okay, so you’re first question, how do I know who you are?” 

He leaned against the arm and dug out his phone. He unlocked it and flicked through its content. He turned it towards you and you frowned at the picture of yourself. You behind your desk, the phone to your ear, as you scribbled on your notepad. He dragged it over and another appeared; you at the grocery store. A third, you at the front door of your building.

“What--”

“These were found at a crime scene.” He interjected. He flipped his phone and searched through the images, “Do you know this woman?”

He showed you the screen again and you shook your head. Whoever she was, she was a stranger to you, although you couldn’t say she didn’t look familiar.

“Her?” He brought up another photo and got the same answer. Three more times as the hair stood on your arms. You didn’t know any of them but they all looked alike. They all looked like you.

“What’s going on?” You asked in a brittle voice.

“You read the news?”

“Sometimes.”

“You’ve heard about the murders? Of the women?”

You nodded and gulped. Your eyes rounded as you trembled in disbelief and fear. “Why are you here though? Why not the cops?”

“They are doing their part and we’re doing ours. You see, we found more than just the photos. Due to security protocols and to protect both of all, I can’t divulge all the evidence I can only say that it brings it under S.H.I.E.L.D. jurisdiction.” 

His thumb slid across the screen and revealed another picture. One of the women with a welt across her neck and sloppily down make-up on her face. You blanched and he looked down. He cleared his throat and blackened the screen.

“Sorry,” he put his phone back in his pocket. “You shouldn’t… Look, I know it’s a lot to digest but it’s better you know.”

“But why are you here? I don’t understand… why did he have my picture?”

“From what we can tell, who it is has been following you. These killings seem to be steps on his path to you. He didn’t have anything about the other women. No photos, no writings--”

“Writings?” You gasped.

“Take a breath. Be calm.” He said. “I’m here now. To protect you.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“Well, I guess that’s the real bad news.” He said. “I’m gonna be your shadow. Now, since we nearly got this guy and have all his stuff, we know he’s scrambling right now. He’s hiding, waiting to come back to you but we know he’s not dumb enough to do it yet. Which is why I am here at this very moment. When he does return, when he’s watching you, I’ll be watching him.”

“You can’t-- You can’t move me?”

“Scaring him away won’t do anything. You’re safer if we can catch this guy. We can’t let him know that anything’s changed.” Bucky said. 

“So… I’m bait?”

“You’re safe.” He insisted. “You’ll have my number, you can call me anytime. And I won’t be far. Not really. And I don’t work alone. You’ll be protected.”

“Why are you telling me then if you’re just going to let him keep following me?”

“Well, we waited until it was crucial to let you know,” he said, “And given his desperate circumstance, we think you should now.”

“Do you know how long--”

“Months, years, we’re still combing through the evidence. We only know he won’t stop.” He shifted on the couch. “And I’m telling you because there’s a few things I need from you.”

“Like what?” You scoffed.

“A key to this place. Just in case. And we’ll need to keep a close eye on you. That means, you’ll have to wear a bug and we’ll be tracking your location.”

“What?” You shook your head. “That’s… a lot.”

“We need to know if anything happens immediately and we need to be able to get to you. If you do this, it will help us get him sooner and hopefully, that means that you won’t have to do it for long.”

“I’ll have to have the key made,” you said quietly.

“I can take care of that,” he stood and you watched him cross the room. 

He went to the coat rack and reached into your jacket pocket. He took your keys and set his phone on the small round table just beside the shoes. He placed one key on his screen and it made a chirping noise, he turned it over before doing the second key. He dropped them back into your pocket and grabbed his phone.

“This,” he stirred around in his own jacket, “Has a mic and tracker.” He held up the golden chain with the small pink rose ornament. “Wear this and that’s it. That’s all we need. If you take it off, hang it somewhere it won’t be obstructed.”

“Okay,” you got up slowly and took the necklace from him, “Um, thank you, I guess.”

“Look, I know it’s all a bit fucked up but it’s to keep you safe.” He said. “And you are safe, okay? I’ve dealt with much worse than this creep.”

👁️

There was rarely a morning when you were eager to be awake but that morning came crashing down on you with a sense of doom. You rolled over and opened your eyes. The golden necklace hung from your bedside lamp, dangling, calling to you, reminding you of the man who had stalked you back to your apartment. And the other man who loomed in the shadows. A stranger who apparently knew you well.

You sat up and clipped the necklace around your neck so you wouldn’t forget. Was it Bucky listening to you? Was he even listening so early? You stood and ambled across the room with a yawn. Today, the rain left a sheet of frost on the window. Was it winter so soon?

You drank your coffee without tasting it and chewed on a piece of buttered toast. Your phone buzzed. Private number was all it said but you knew who it was.

‘What time do you leave?’ Bucky asked. You typed in the number and nothing more. He already knew which train you took.

You dressed as you did every day. You pulled the necklace over the collar of your shirt and sighed. You felt awkward as if you were living in a simulation; a facsimile of your meek existence.

Ready to face the day and the unknown, you set out as you flicked away another message; ‘You have a break? What time?’ You’d answer him after you got to work. You couldn’t be staring at your phone knowing that someone was undoubtedly watching you.

You stood on the train, too antsy to sit. You waited by the door, ready to bolt off at the slightest sign of trouble. You played with the rose charm without thinking. Your phone buzzed and you quickly drew your fingers away.

Another message from your private caller. 'There's disturbance on the mic. Stop touching.' You almost laughed. It was comical. You'd be an awful spy but you weren't anything close. You were prey.

What would have happened if those pictures had not been discovered? You hated to even think of it. So you pushed away the thought and got off the train.

The streets felt darker even as the grey sky paled. Pedestrians were villains, each one sinister and plotting. When you got to work, you were out of breath as you had nearly broken into a sprint.

You sat and clocked in. You took out your phone and responded to the texts but got nothing back. You hung your jacket on the rack in the corner and went about your usual routine but nothing felt usual. The incessant ringing of the phone and the chatter of the office added to the chaos of your mind. You tried to distract yourself with your work but found yourself fidgety and anxious. Every unfamiliar face that walked through the doors was a potential suspect.

When you took your lunch, you stayed in the office. The break room was empty as you sat and your phone vibed in your blazer pocket. You answered the private number and unwrapped your granola bar.

“You on lunch?” Bucky asked, you confirmed with a mumble. “Are you okay?”

“Am I? What’s going on? Anything?” You stilled the crinkling of the wrapper, suddenly sick to your stomach.

“It’s not going to be that easy or fast. Right now, he’s waiting for us to look away but he could also be in a panic which means he could do something impulsive.” Bucky explained.

“Impulsive? What does that mean?”

“Look, you don’t need to be afraid. I got this. This is nothing compared to what I usually--”

“Nothing?! Well maybe you’re used to this but I’m just a secretary, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing or what to do!” Your voice was shrill as you crushed the granola bar in your hand.

“Take a breath,” he said firmly. “Calm down and proceed as usual. I’m here. I’m watching.”

You sniffed and struggled not to hyperventilate. When you finally got your breathing under control you nodded into the phone and murmured a pathetic ‘okay’.

“Hey, you don’t need to be afraid, okay? Not with me around. So far you’ve been lucky. We figured it out before he got to you and now we’re way ahead of him and he doesn’t even know it.” Bucky coaxed.

“Yeah, I guess,” you deflated and stood from the table; restless. 

You went to the kettle and flicked it on. Shaena was always offering you peppermint tea; you’d take her up on that. Maybe it would help calm you down.

“How about tonight I’ll come buy with a pizza and we can go over protocol?” He offered. “And it’ll be good for you not to be alone.”

“Pizza?” You frowned.

“Well, you know, I’m sitting on surveillance all day, I don’t exactly get to relax,” he explained. “...you can say no but it’d be my treat.”

“I’m sorry I’m panicking. I’m just… scared. I didn’t sleep-- I--” You choked on your voice. “You don’t mind?”

“Do you?” He returned.

You sighed and opened the cupboard to grab a mug. You tapped your fingers on the countertop.

“This must be really boring for you,” you said. “You don’t have to--”

“If I’m being honest with you, it’s supposed to be freezing tonight and I don’t exactly get to hang around in a five star suite. You’d be doing me a favour and have the extra security of some goon with a metal arm.” He chuckled.

“Alright,” you threw your hand up. “But I don’t like pepperoni.”

“Damn…” he uttered, “Well, I guess we all have to make sacrifices.”

👁️

You were slightly less frantic when you left work. Bucky texted you to assure you he was there… somewhere. You took your usual route. He explained it was best not to change your routine. You didn’t want to tip off the creep.

The train ride was slow and jittery. The frigid air of the looming New York winter crept in between the door and you shivered as you got off at your stop. Your heels clicked around you as you gripped your bag and the phone in your pocket. You struggled not to look around and try to search out your stalker.

You unlocked your door and dropped your bag beside the shoe rack. You kicked off your heels and rubbed your legs together to warm up. You hung your jacket and took your phone out as you began to pace your apartment. 

How close was Bucky? How close was the killer?

You kept checking your messages and then slammed your phone on the coffee table. Stop! You were driving yourself crazy. You made yourself sit and flipped on the television. You put on an old sitcom and tried to settle in. You squirmed on the couch and found it difficult to follow the episode.

Your phone lit up suddenly and made you flinch. The sky was already dark through the window as your ringer blared over the television. You reached for your cell; Private Number. You answered clumsily and pressed it to your ear.

“Hello?” You rasped.

Silence. You blinked and repeated your greeting. Still, the line was quiet. You shook your head and hung up. Before you could toss your phone, it shook again and cried out a melody. You answered again.

This time heavy breathing greeted you. It got louder as you listened and a trickle of ice rolled over your spine. You ended the call and stared at your phone. A third call. You slowly hit the green icon and then turned the phone to speaker.

“Don’t you ever hang up on me.” A man snarled in a crackly voice, “Ever.”

“Who… who is this?”

“Shhh, baby girl, I won’t hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re safe.” He said, “That’s all I want.”

“Who are you? What do you want?” You gulped.

Another silence. This one long and exaggerated, pierced only by a metallic whisper. “...You,” he purred darkly, “I want you, baby girl. I want your blood, I want your screams.” You shook as you dropped the phone, his voice muffled but his words clear, “I want that precious little cunt.”

You sobbed and bent to grab the phone again. Your thumb hovered over the red button.

“Baby girl, I told you about hanging up on me. I hope that’s not what you’re thinking of now.”

You said nothing as your eyes burned with frightened tears and you looked down at your necklace. Could Bucky hear? Where was he?

“Soon, I promise, we can be together,” the stranger cooed, “You and me. All alone.” He took a deep breath, “All mine.”

“Please, leave me--”

The line clicked and went dead. You stared at your phone and jumped at the sudden knock on the door. Your fingers curled around your cell and you stood. You crossed to the door. You peeked through the peephole. Bucky stood with a pizza box. You opened the door sharply.

“Where were you?” You snapped.

“What?”

“He just called!” You nearly shouted.

“Keep it down,” he warned as he stepped inside and you retreated. He closed the door and locked it. “He called?”

He went to the kitchen and set the pizza down. “Just now?”

“I thought you were listening? I had him on speaker.”

“I… I’ll have to play it back. I was on my way, I didn’t--”

“You-- you-- The things he said,” you croaked, “You can’t imagine and, and… how did he get my number? You said he would be hiding!”

“Well, these things aren’t exactly cookie cutter--”

“What if he’s watching me right now? Looking in through my window and--” Your voice was shrill as you rung your hands and brushed by Bucky. He followed you to the window as you twisted the blinds shut. “He’s going to kill me like he did all those girls. He’s going to--”

“Come on,” Bucky grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the window, “Just breathe.” He turned you to him and placed his hands on your arms. He rubbed them through your blouse. “In, out…” He began to guide you, “On my count; one, in, two, out…” 

Your eyes rounded and you struggled to calm yourself. You were shaking but managed to measure your breaths in time with his voice. 

“That’s it,” his hands framed your face as he leaned in to look you in the face, “I’m here now and if you need me to, I’ll stay all night.”

You nodded dumbly and grabbed his forearms. His metal thumb stroked your cheek and you slowly pulled his hands away.

“Bucky…” You whispered as he slowly dropped his hands. “Thank you.”

[theabigailthorn]

Hey Olly, I’m pro free housing, but i often get stuck on how it would work? Like, how would who gets what housing be decided? What if everyone wants to move to a beach town but all the housing is taken—do people get on some kind of wait list? Should housing be run by the govt, or should it be generational, like you bequeath your housing? Idk when I think about a system where you apply to the govt for your housing and it gets approved or denied, I worry about corruption/tankie shit. Any thoughts?

I get this a lot, and in the first instance I think it’s often framed in a pretty unrealistic way. I very much doubt everybody would suddenly want to move to a beach town because people put down roots wherever they are and have connections and jobs there.

That said, obviously people will want to move sometimes, just like now - so you’re right to think about how that would work! I can imagine that a local council, or some public body under local democratic control, would have a list online of all the properties that are currently empty. If you're looking to move you can browse the list, pick one you like, and apply! If more than one person applies for the same house then we can have a lottery system (unless it’s got special features that one person needs, like it’s on the ground floor and they can’t do stairs, in which case we can let them take priority there). Once you get the house you can pick up the keys and move in! You would be responsible for maintaining it, so once every so often someone from that local body will come round and say, “Hey, you need to clear the gutters or install some fire doors or whatever.” Once you’re done you give back the keys and move out! The important thing to realise is that whilst not everybody will get their first choice house - that is already true of the current system. No rent, no mortgages. The house is not owned by anybody and so it cannot be sold: homes are no longer the sorts of things that can legally be commodities.

Won’t there be corruption and people moving their friends up the list for the nicer houses? Almost definitely! Again though - real estate corruption already happens under the current system. At least this way nobody dies of homelessness and nobody amasses fortunes on the backs of other people’s misery.

Won’t this mean every estate agent and landlord is out of a job? Yup. But we will also be creating new jobs! Someone will need to administer that list, manage applications, show people round properties, inspect them... Seems like estate agents have a lot of transferrable skills that will be useful! Their new jobs will be much more stable since they won’t be conditional on the fluctuations in the housing market! Let’s make sure they’re unionised with pensions and decent wages while we’re at it!

But people won’t take care of the houses if they don’t own them! It’s hard to think of anything that has more evidence against it than this. Private renters already take care of housing which they don’t own because they live there. My landlord hasn’t set foot in my flat for three years: I do all the cleaning and repairs and I make it a home. The owner does zilch!

But what if someone wants to come into my house and just live there? Same thing that happens now if you rent, you have a right to privacy so you can tell them to leave? I don’t own the flat I currently live in, but I can control who comes in - even the owner is required to give me notice.

But I want to own a house someday so I can sell it and getta tha mon-ey! Tough titties I’m afraid. You don’t get to amass wealth at the expense of other human beings anymore.

I agree that the current housing crisis is a problem, but can’t we just introduce strong pro-tenant regulations? The housing market and the housing crisis are the same thing. That’s the point. Consider that every regulation you introduce will be challenged and eroded by the most rich and powerful people in the world. We have tried for over a century to regulate our way out of the housing crisis and it’s been a miserable, deadly failure. It’s time to cut the Gordian knot and realise that we will not solve the housing crisis until we do to landlords what Thatcher did to the miners: absolutely remove them as a political force.

But who will build new houses if nobody can sell them for a profit? We have a free healthcare system, don’t we? Why not a housing system too? It’s not perfect of course, and it’s vulnerable to privatisation by the backdoor, but if a job needs doing the government can pay people to do it - that is a thing that can happen.

But I already paid half my mortgage! Now you’re telling me my house isn’t an asset anymore? Admittedly, that sucks. But hey, at least you don’t have to pay the other half, and now you live in a society where you will never go homeless!

Won’t wages go down once people no longer have to pay rent or mortgages? Maybe. Sounds like a good reason to join a union and have robust minimum wage laws for everybody! But even if they did - if your living costs have just been reduced by half cause you aren’t paying rent anymore and there’s now zero chance that you will end up on the streets, you could lose some wages and still be fine.

But people won’t go to work if they don’t have to pay rent! Absolutely right. Would you still go to work at your shitty job if you had free housing? Would you maybe go half as much, and spend the other half doing something you actually enjoy? If your boss harasses you or makes your job miserable, aren’t you now in a much better position to say, “Screw your job!” Guaranteeing free housing puts a massive amount of power in the hands of workers and would expose just how coercive capitalism is! Suddenly, if rich people want their floors cleaned or their coffee served - well they’d better pay the person doing that job properly or it won’t get done. All the people who actually keep society running in low-paid shitty jobs are suddenly able to demand the respect they deserve. Every pro-worker party should be demanding free housing: it’s hard to think of a move that would benefit the working class more than taking away the threat of homelessness used to keep them in line.

Won’t banks be in serious trouble if mortgages suddenly aren’t a thing? Probably. Some might go under. They will not get bailouts - if bailouts are required they will go directly to the employees and customers, who, remember, have all just had their living costs massively reduced because they have free housing now. They will not end up on the streets because homelessness won’t exist. 

This is ridiculous! For most of human history housing was not a commodity. There is more empty housing now than homeless people. The fact that people find it difficult to imagine an alternative now is a function of Capitalist Realism, but a lack of imagination on their part isn’t a moral or intellectual failing on mine.

I’m a foreign billionaire and I bought loads of property in your country so I can leave them empty to inflate my assets/launder my money that I got from doing crimes. Now you’re telling me I’m going to lose everything cause you’re confiscating those properties and letting people live in them?! Get rekt lol