#make america great again hat

[uspresidentsclub]

whitehousegiftshop

US Presidents Club is excited to announce the launch of its highly anticipated limited edition product line, the “President Donald J Trump Collection”

This President Donald J Trump Collection hoodie made from 97% soft Cotton blend with embroidered logo and “President Donald J Trump, Comeback Collection” and President Trump’s picture printed directly on the hoodie.President Trump Comeback Collection Hoodie.

[donaldtrumphats]

The Biden Trump Hat Edition.

[ponury-grajek]

funny valentine would wear that

[deadpoolthelastdance]

social media makes me feel absolutely sick sometimes

im not even safe from hate on fucking image sharing platforms [pinterest]

why are people so obsessed with hating each other? everytime I open tiktok its filled with extreme queer identity discourse, homophobia, transphobia, racism, more racism, fatphobia, people shitting on people for having hobbies, and so much more

even on tumblr I see dogshit sometimes

I know I'm gonna find people with different opinions then me no matter where I go, but why do those "differing opinions" have to be anti human-rights ??????? why do the differing opinions have to be "i hate you for no reason" "I hate you because you're having fun"

I don't understand why we can't just. Live.

people are getting fucking murdered everywhere on a daily goddamn basis and you're angry that someone's gay? you're angry that someone's trans? you're angry they're black? you're angry they're fat? you're not angry that they're DYING?

[huginsmemory]

Just finished marineford and. Hey. What the FUCK

[giffypudding]

A stranger in a strange land

[thevelveteenlemon]

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN by Mora Duvall

In a field of raspberries

I will not pluck one, for they are poisoned.

Stirring the dirt and leaves,

Killing the doves of peace,

The vines creep slowly to the feet of Liberty

Her tablet fallen amongst their roots,

And Justice, her scale askew,

Weeps for the berries that entangled her too.

No-one shall cry harder for us,

Constituants craving the fatal dessert

That aggressively climbs and claims is harmless,

An entire recess from their false harness.

The garden is overrun in the winter,

As raspberries celebrate their return

Cold seeps restlessly through the walls

And the illusion of democratic government falls.

I refuse to wear red on my head to match

What symbols have lodged themselves cretinous,

A mockingbird singing the song of the masses

That refuse to look past to the lower classes,

Looping themselves through the noose

Of the rich praetorian brambles.

The country of raspberries is falling apart,

Sadistic joy in their roots: this is only the start.

[krispycrowntree]

[giovannigiorgio666]

So you’re telling me that if Supreme made a “Make America Great Again” hat, you wouldn’t wear it. Because I would.

[ink-the-squid-gremlin]

I swear to god by the end of this fucking shift I’m gonna fucking shoot myself. Why do people care so much about who is serving them in the drive through, you’re never gonna fucking see me again so why does it fucking matter if you think I’m a gay person

[futurefishy]

Right down to the voter interviews that are like "why did you vote (leave/trump)?" and the reasoning is completely different from anything that voting choice might result in and/or deranged ramblings based on a campaign slogan

there’s a LOT to say about trump’s actual campaign promises and how they worked for him in 2024 functioning as brexit 2: electric bugaloo like the little old England sentiment (Midwest edition), mass hatred and distrust of immigrants essential to economic function, removal from global spheres, nationalism, rage against internal industry controls and regulation, and a lot of people being very very stupid and allergic to googling WHAT IS TARIFF.

And then when every professional economist was like this is a terrible and reactionary idea that will harm the economic bottom line of literally everyone wayyyy too many people were like silence intellectual elite I’m here to trust the billionaires, who would never lie to me!

[uspresidentsclub]

gift store

Elevate your style with these distinguished gold George W Bush lapel pin. Each pin features the iconic Presidential Seal Eagle, with President George W. Bush’s signature elegantly engraved on the reverse side.

[donaldtrumphats]

SANTA AND THE MAGA ELVES

[detentiontrack]

I forgot to take my ADHD meds today and I was pumping gas minding my own business and this guy wearing a “make america great again” hat out of nowhere asked me who I’m voting for and instead of ignoring him, changing the topic, or saying something NORMAL, I said without hesitation “oh I can’t vote. I’m a convicted felon” (I am not)

[chrisdr3]

The hat rule ~ DR3

Smut

Warnings: Age gap (reader is 20), virgin!reader, piastri!reader

Summary: Daniel teaches Oscar's little sister the meaning of the cowboy hat rule.

It was the second GP you went with Oscar to see him. You liked Formula 1 very much but you couldn't keep up with Oscar's races, because of your studies for uni and the long flights that had you jet lagged for days, even when you liked to travel around the world.

Austin was a beautiful place, just like the western movies you watched as a little girl. Back then, there were two things you were obsessed with: Formula 1 and western movies. Especially because Oscar watched it intensely and you always copied him, like a shadow.

You started liking it even more when Daniel got into the sport. You maybe had a teeny tiny little crush on him. So tiny, that you had pictures and posters of him all over your room. A little crush that made you nearly cry when he got disqualified and yell from happiness when he won. A crush that lasted for years.

You had met Daniel before, back when Oscar was a reserve driver in Alpine. He was fun and flirted way more than you expected. When you met him again in Melbourne, in the Australian GP, you had a great time with him, and he wouldn't stop flirting, giving you a spark of hope he might like you, even a little bit. That spark of hope turned into a flame in Austin. It was the time to make a move, using both of your love for America and cowboys.

After qualifying, all the drivers decided to go out for food and a drink. No one really knew good places to go, so y'all went on a western-style steakhouse that Daniel suggested, claiming it had the best steak in all of Austin. When you got there, you immediately agreed with him. It was exactly like a saloon, from the cutlery and tables to the decorations on the walls. It even had a mechanic bull, which you were really eager to try out.

You sat in a booth with Oscar, George and Max, having Daniel, Lando and Logan sitting in the table in the opposite of yours. As you were eating a bit of Oscar's steak, you were glimpsing at their table, looking away when Daniel's stare was catching yours. At some point, a chick approached their table, sitting next to Daniel.

You couldn't stop staring, holding back anger mixed with tears. She was sitting on his lap as they talked. As you were looking, you noticed that she was constantly trying to take his hat multiple times, but Daniel wasn't letting her, so she left after a while and Daniel's stare fell in yours, as if you were a magnet.

You turned your gaze away and continued talking with the others, trying really hard to ignore him. At some point, George left, saying that he was tired, leaving an empty seat next to you. You didn't really pay any attention to that and continued discussing, nat noticing Daniel sitting next to you.

You felt something being placed on your head, but didn't give much attention. The talking stopped and you raised your head from your plate, looking at Oscar's shocked face. You put your hand in your head, only to realise that you had a hat on. And it was a cowboy one.

You turned around only to see Daniel, a smirk plastered on his face. "H-hi" "Hi, Y/N. Do you mind me sitting with you?" "N-no." You responded, blushing. Everything then went back to normal. At least for the others. As everyone was talking, Daniel's hand slithered in your thigh, resting on it, rubbing his thumb there. You couldn't hold your blush, your face red like a tomato. You continued talking till it got really late and the others decided to leave.

As you got up, Daniel held your hand. "Wait, I gotta talk to you." You immediately looked at Oscar, asking for approval silently. He nodded positively, then left. You turned back to Daniel. "What is it?" He cupped your cheek with his hand. "Do you know what is the cowboy hat rule?" "Erm...no?" "Let me explain it to ya then." He raised your chin with his index finger, his eyes meeting yours. "You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy, babygirl." The next moment, his lips were in yours, kissing you hungrily, yet with passion.

When you pulled away, he grabbed your hand. "Let's go somewhere private, baby." He left some money on the table and took you to his car. You went in and speeded to his hotel, which was apparently the same that you and Oscar were staying.

You ran to his room, kissing like lovesick teens, kissing as he opened the door. As you were inside, he pulled away. "Go to the bed and strip for me, babygirl." You obeyed and went to the bed, stripped out of your dress, staying with only your panties on, waiting for him.

He came to the bedroom some minutes later, only a towel hanging loosely around his hips, hair wet and his chain resting on his chest. He let his towel fall in the floor as he got closer to you, cupping your breasts. "I said strip babygirl, you should really learn to obey." He growled, ripping it apart. "Get up." He ordered. Daniel then laid down in the bed, his back resting on the headboard, and he made you straddle his waist, then put his hat back to your head.

"Now, ride me like the good girl you are." You hesitated for a moment, looking away. His face softened rapidly as he looked at you. "What's wrong sweetheart?" "I'm a virgin..." You mumbled, looking away embarrassed. "Then I'll take it slow, and if you wanna stop, pinch me." "Okay." You sat in silence for a bit as he wore a condom. "Ready?" He rubbed your thigh. You nodded yes. "Then come ride me, princess."

He positioned you right above his dick and helped you sink in slowly, holding your hands gently. You squeezed them feeling the pain overwhelm your body. "Take your time princess." He spoke softly. He rubbed your thighs, helping you soothe the pain. As you felt better, you started bouncing up and down his cock, progressively increasing speed. His dick was hitting your g-spot brutally, making you try hard not to scream.

"You're taking me so good babygirl, well done." He praised, his hands sneaking to your butt, squeezing it. After a bit, you felt a knot in your stomach. "D-danny, I'm close..." You didn't stop riding him, reaching your high rapidly. When you reached your edge, Daniel let go of your butt. "Cum for me baby, show me how much of a good girl you are." You came undone, letting out a breathy moan, exhausted.

Daniel helped you to pull out and laid you down on the bed. He then went to the bathroom, took out his condom, cleaned himself and came back to you with a warm towel. He cleaned you up gently, kissing your thighs in the process. He then threw the towle somewhere in the floor and wore a pair of boxers.

Meanwhile, you were laying in the middle of the bed, limbs stretched out like a starfish, in the bliss and sleepiness of your first ever orgasm. You didn't even complain when he laid behind you and pulled you in his arms, one hugging your waist and the other cupping your breasts.

"You did very well for a first time, princess." He whispered. "Thanks..." You mumbled, trying really hard to keep your eyes open. He noticed it and kissed your head, pulling the blanket over your bodies. "Goodnight babygirl, I love you." "I love you too, Danny..." You responded, a hint of happiness in your voice. You then drifted off to sleep in his arms, knowing that the man you were crushing over all these years, loved you back. Worrying about Oscar will have to wait.

Taglist: @pinkswaet @dilemmaontwolegs @thef1diary @changetyre

[patriotictf]

"Oh my god, this can't be real," John muttered to himself as he stepped into his new apartment. The space was adorned with distinctly MAGA-themed items - red hats, banners with "Make America Great Again" slogans, and a couple of Trump-Pence signs, all immaculately arranged.

John, a staunch liberal and openly gay, felt a pang of disgust. How had he ended up here?

"This is a nightmare," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

John stood motionless for a moment, taking in the room's overpowering display of conservative regalia. Then, a thought struck him. Maybe he could just remove all this stuff. After all, it was his apartment now.

But as soon as he attempted to take down one of the MAGA banners, he realized something strange was happening. The banner refused to budge. It seemed to cling to the wall, as if the very paint was glue.

Frustrated, John tried again, putting more force into the pull. But the result was still the same. The banner seemed stuck in place, mocking him with its stubborn resistance.

He tried another item, attempting to remove a small MAGA badge from the dresser. But just like the banner, the badge defied movement. It felt glued to the surface, no matter how hard he tugged.

John's heart began to race, a mix of confusion and panic setting in. These items were immovable. Why? How was this possible? And more importantly, what was their purpose here?

He sank down onto the bed, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. This had to be a prank. Someone had planted these items here as a cruel joke, or some weird form of psychological experiment. There was no other reasonable explanation. Or... was there?

John scanned the room again, his gaze falling on more Trump-themed items - a red "Make America Great Again" mug, a framed photo of the former president, and even a small American flag with the slogan "Keep America Great" stitched onto it.

Each item seemed to stare back at him, its presence like a slap in the face. As if the room was mocking his own political beliefs and identity.

John felt a wave of anger wash over him, but it was swiftly followed by a pang of fear. Was he trapped here? Stuck in this MAGA-themed prison, with no escape?

He stood up and began pacing, the room feeling smaller with each step. He needed to think, to figure out what the hell was going on.

Frustration grew within John as he attempted to leave the apartment, only to discover the door was impossibly stuck. No matter how much force he applied, it remained sealed, as if it had been fused to the frame.

Panic set in as he tried to use his phone to call for help, but no signal could be found. He was completely cut off from the outside world.

He turned on the TV it was on Fox News. As John frantically flicked through the television channels, he was met with an unsettling sight. Every channel was broadcasting Fox News, without exception.

No matter how many times he clicked the buttons on the remote, the channel stubbornly remained on Fox News. It was as if the TV itself had been calibrated to play only this particular station.

Frustrated and bewildered, John tossed the remote onto the coffee table, the clatter echoing through the room. He couldn't escape the barrage of conservative news and commentary, no matter what he tried.

He plopped onto the couch, a sense of helplessness washing over him. How was this happening? What strange reality had he stumbled into where every electronic item seemed hell-bent on playing Fox News on repeat?

John clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. He loathed Fox News with a passion, every segment feeling like a personal affront to his liberal beliefs. The thought of being forced to watch this drivel on a constant loop was enough to drive him insane.

He considered unplugging the TV entirely, but a sense of unease held him back. What if this was all part of some twisted plan? Unplugging the TV could have unintended consequences. He couldn't risk it.

The hours passed slowly, the TV's constant barrage of conservative news and opinion pieces wearing down John's sanity. The words "Trump" and "MAGA" seemed to be chanted over and over, a maddening chorus that filled the room.

He tried to distract himself with other activities - pacing around the room, flipping through books, even going on his laptop - but nothing could drown out the endless stream of right-wing rhetoric.

By nightfall, John was beginning to waver. He argued with himself internally, trying to hold onto his liberal principles, but the constant exposure to right-wing talking points had begun to chip away at his resolve.

He found himself agreeing with some of the opinions being broadcast, nodding in approval at times, and occasionally even finding himself agreeing with the hosts. This realization terrified him.

As he sat on the couch, John clutched his head, the internal struggle raging within him. He could feel his core beliefs being shaken to the core. Who was he? What did he truly believe?

The TV continued to blast, the host's voice droning on about the virtues of conservative values and the importance of preserving "true American" principles. Each word seemed to sink into his brain, implanting seeds of conservatism that began to take root.

John found himself agreeing more and more with what he was hearing. He started to understand the conservative way of thinking, nodding along to the rhetoric, and even feeling a pang of disappointment when they switched topics.

The liberal ideology that he had always held so dear was slowly fading away, replaced by a growing appreciation for the values being espoused by Fox News.

As the night continued, John could feel his core beliefs crumbling under the onslaught of right-wing propaganda. He was becoming increasingly receptive to the conservative narrative, no longer able to recognize the liberal values he had held for so long.

His mind was changing, slowly but surely. Fox News was rewiring his very identity, molding him into a supporter of the MAGA cause.

As John finally succumbed to exhaustion and dropped off into a fitful sleep, the room around him began to change.

Unseen forces began to take hold, slowly altering his physical form. His features sharpened, his body becoming more toned and muscular. The remnants of his once-liberal appearance faded into memory, replaced by a more rugged, conservative look.

John's hair too changed, falling out leaving him bald as a dark beard begins to grow out of his face.. His skin tone darkened subtly, taking on a more sun-kissed, masculine hue. tattoos form on his neck? thoat, arms. and hands.

As he slept, the physical transformation continued, shaping him into the epitome of a conservative man.

John's wardrobe transformed as well, even in his sleep. The liberal attire he once wore was replaced by more conservative clothing. Jeans became camo pants, his shirt became black with Make Men Men again writen across it, and boots took the place of loafers. Tattoos emerged on his body, each one reflecting a traditional, patriotic image.

He wasn't merely changing; he was being sculpted into a new person entirely.

The physical changes were drastic, but so were the mental ones. As John slept, his mind was being indoctrinated. His liberal beliefs and values were slowly being overwritten by conservative ones. He was dreaming now, visions of a strong America, traditional values, and unyielding patriotism filling his subconscious.

By the time John began to stir, he was a changed man. The physical transformation was complete; he looked every inch the conservative he was now.

His beliefs, too, had undergone a complete metamorphosis. He no longer held onto liberal ideals. In fact, he despised them.

As he sat up, groggy and disoriented, he found himself staring down at the tattoos on his arm, each one a testament to his new persona.

John's eyes flicked up towards a mirror hanging on the wall. The sight of his reflection sent a jolt of surprise through him. He couldn't believe the person staring back at him.

His appearance was that of a stereotypical conservative man. His bald head, the beard, the tattoos, the clothing - everything screamed "MAGA." He looked like a completely different person.

As he stood there, staring at his reflection in disbelief, John struggled to come to terms with his dramatic transformation.

He touched his bald head, feeling the roughness of his shaved skin. He ran his hand over his beard, tracing the thick strands that grew from his once-smooth face. He looked down at his clothing, seeing the MAGA shirt and camo pants that clung to his newly-toned body.

It was a nightmare come true. John tried to deny it, telling himself this was all just a dream. But as he pinched himself and felt the pain, he realized the horrifying truth: this was all too real. He was trapped in a body and mind he no longer recognized.

His heart raced, panic starting to kick in. He had to get out of here, find a way to reverse this nightmare. But when he moved towards the door, he found it still sealed shut.

John froze as a thought suddenly appeared in his mind, seemingly out of nowhere. It was like a strange inner voice, a thought that wasn't his own. It told him to "accept this."

He fought against it at first, resisting the idea of surrendering to the changes. But as the thought echoed in his head, it grew louder and more insistent.

For a long moment, he stood there, wrestling with his inner thoughts. The voice demanded his compliance, and it was becoming harder to resist.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of struggle, John's resistance broke. He couldn't fight the inner command any longer. He had to "accept this."

He took a deep breath, the realization sinking in. This was his reality now. He was no longer the liberal man he once was. He was a conservative, down to his bones.

With a mixture of resignation and acceptance, he stood a little straighter, embracing his new identity.

But as he made the mental shift, John felt another, more subtle change taking place. His emotions began to reshape themselves, shifting towards the conservative values now ingrained in him.

The panic and disbelief that consumed him moments ago faded away, replaced by a sense of conviction. He no longer felt the need to fight against his new identity. In fact, he felt a growing sense of comfort and even satisfaction with it.

The voice in his head grew louder, reinforcing the new emotional landscape within him. The liberal ideals he once held dear were replaced by a staunch conservatism, fueled by inner feelings of patriotism, tradition, and strength.

John began to understand that his transformation wasn't limited to the physical. It was a full-blown mental and emotional restructuring, shaping him into the perfect American conservative.

The more he delved into this new mindset, the more a sense of calmness washed over John. His past as a liberal seemed distant and almost alien.

Now, he had a deep understanding of conservative values and beliefs. He felt a strong connection to America, its heritage, and its future.

Most strikingly, John felt a growing dislike towards liberals and progressive ideals. He had become the very thing he once despised.

John opened the no longer locked door, stepping into the blistering Florida sun, squinting against the bright light. He slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses. As he felt the heat on his skin, his new conservative beliefs began to solidify further.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the humid air. It felt like a homecoming, as if this new persona of his had been waiting to emerge.

With a determined stride, John walked down the street, a sense of comfort and certainty guiding his every step.

As he walked, the city seemed to come to life around him. He passed by people of all ages - some young, some old - but what struck him was the sense of unity that pervaded the air.

He saw American flags flying proudly, MAGA hats on people's heads, and bumper stickers supporting conservative values on cars.

This was his world now. A world where patriotism was celebrated and liberal ideas were left behind.