#taft shows

[fidius]

This didn't pass! Good job, Ohio, and good luck trying to crawl out from under your shitty Republican* wanna-be oligarchs.

Texas next?

* not all Ohio Republicans are shitty. In case anyone cares what it's about, Ohio has a law that makes it quite easy for voters to force lawmakers to make laws they want, and the Republicans were angry that the voters (including lots of Rs) wanted to protect abortion and someone other stuff, so they tried to change things to make it harder for voters to get what they want. They were unshamefaced about it because I guess that's the current Republican brand. My personal favorite old-school (why still in the GOP?) Republican on the measure:

“It absolutely is minority rule,” Maureen O'Connor, a Republican who served on the Ohio supreme court for nearly two decades and stepped down as chief justice at the end of last year, and opposes Issue 1, said in a telephone interview. “If you get 59.9% of a vote that says yes, 40.1% can say no. This is the way it’s gonna be. We can thwart the effort of the majority of Ohioans that vote. And that’s not American.”

Last Minute Reminder to Ohioans: Vote NO on Issue 1 Today

Why? You mean, aside from the fact that it was rushed onto the ballot in order to make sure that the uterus-bearing in Ohio have less control over their bodies than their local politicians, and that it was shoved into an August voting date that this same legislature actually voted out of existence specifically to ensure that the issue would have so little attention that only the rabid faithful…

[funfandomtournaments]

[dorothylarouge]

US Presidents as Dril Tweets

George Washington: another day volunteering at the betsy ross museum. everyone keeps asking me if they can fuck the flag. buddy, they wont even let me fuck it

John Adams: "ah boo hoo hoo i want to post Foul comments to content leaders" Fat Chance, Dimwit. I will annihilate you under bulwark of the Law and God.

Thomas Jefferson: Q: If your post was proven by a counsil of wise men to be racist, or bullshit, would you bar it from the record? A: I do not delete my posts

James Madison: (sniffing a crumpled up one dollar bill i found on the floor of a dog kennel) ah.. thats greenbacks baby

James Monroe: for decades i have traversed the unforgiving mountains and rivers of south america, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled "ass downloader"

John Quincy Adams: "This Whole Thing Smacks Of Gender," i holler as i overturn my uncle's barbeque grill and turn the 4th of July into the 4th of Shit

Andrew Jackson: handing Faves over to my enemies is FRAUD !! base, contemptible FRAUD!

Martin Van Buren: Food $200

Data $150

Rent $800

Candles $3,600

Utility $150

someone who is good at the economy please help me budget this. my family is dying

William Henry Harrison: (spends all of 7 seconds skimming some blog posts) yep. just as i knew all along. having pnuamonia is good

John Tyler: fuck "jokes". everything i tweet is real. raw insight without the horse shit. no, i will NOT follow trolls. twitter dot com. i live for this

James K. Polk: thhere is no such thing as charisma, and art is fake. the only metrics by which we must determine the worth of a man are Strength and Wisdom

Zachary Taylor: the doctor reveals my blood pressure is 420 over 69. i hoot & holler outta the building while a bunch of losers tell me that im dying

Millard Fillmore: trying to heal..... please donate to my go fund me... $10 will make me less racist... $100 will make me extremely less racist...thank you...

Franklin Pierce: blocked. blocked. blocked. youre all blocked. none of you are free of sin

James Buchanan: #NationalGirlfriendDay please cherish your gal's.. in honor of us, the single Boys who must sacrifice all companionship to #CarryTheBrand...

Abraham Lincoln: unloading an entire belt of ammo at me with a minigun or some such device will now get you "Blocked"

Andrew Johnson: who the fuck is scraeming "LOG OFF" at my house. show yourself, coward. i will never log off

Ulysses S. Grant: i regret being tasked the emotional burden of maintaining the final bastion of morality and Nice manners in this endless ocean of human SHIT

Rutherford B. Hayes: using the toilet when i hear Our national anthem start to play. i do what i must. i stand tall in complete agony; as shit runs down my leg,

James A. Garfield: too much truth in such little time. feeling the heat cominh down to silence me... signing off........ for now

Chester A. Arthur: i WILL wise the fuck up. i WILL super charge my content for 2017. i WILL get blue check mark

Grover Cleveland: the way i see it, people who come on here and submit content that is not up to par, could possibly be considered the "Villains" of this site

Benjamin Harrison: i help every body, im not racist, i keep myself nice, and when i ask for a single re-tweet in return i am told to fuck off, fuck myself, etc

William McKinley: boy oh boy do i love purchasing large amounnts of Fool's Gold. wait a minute... fools gold fucking sucks. this stuff is no good..!! Fuck !!!

Theodore Roosevelt: IF THE ZOO BANS ME FOR HOLLERING AT THE ANIMALS I WILL FACE GOD AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO HELL

William H. Taft: ah.. the perfect Souffle! cant wait to dig in to t(*EVERY PIPE IN MY HOUSE EXPLODES AT THE SAME TIME, COVERING ME IN SHIT AND BOILING WATER*

Woodrow Wilson: the conflicted supersoldier stares over the horizon as he smokes a cigarette. "war is the most fucked up thing ever." he takes a sip of beer

Warren G. Harding: somebody please Bribe me

Calvin Coolidge: aggressively joyless oaf hhere. painfully obnoxious respect demander checkign in. extremely dim witted frowning man looking for pals

Herbert Hoover: it is really quite astonishing that I have yet to win The Lottery, given how good I am at selecting six numbers and saying them out loud

Franklin D. Roosevelt: ive never heard of this “europe” but it sounds like a big bunch of shit to me

Harry Truman: everybody wants to be the guy to write the tweet that solves racism once and for all because it would look good as hell on a resume

Dwight D. Eisenhower: my "F*&k It!! Let's Go Golfin" t-shirt maintains a tenacious stranglehold on my life. after 1,125 days of Golf my body is twisted, deformed

John F. Kennedy: when you do sutuff like... shoot my jaw clean off of my face with a sniper rifle, it mostly reflects poorly on your self

Lyndon B. Johnson: incredibly handsome , charismatic famous boy credited with ending income inequality after saying that slumlords should be called "dumblords"

Richard Nixon: i attribute the complete failure of my brand to the actions of detractors, oor my “trolls”, as it were, as well as my own constant fuckups

Gerald Ford: shutting computer down until the shitty moods & attitudes can fuck off., if you need me ill be on my other computer, sititng 60° to my right

Jimmy Carter: i warnned you all that bad things would happen if you kept letting your wives wear jeans. AND NOW LOOK! the damn gas prices are up again

Ronald Reagan: spend a lot of time thinking about how sometimes even war criminals can be heroes sometimes... Dont like it? Click the unfollow buttobn

George H.W. Bush: just thought off an idea i believe to be bad ass. lets find the address of the leader of isis, and mail him/ her pieces of our SHIT

Bill Clinton: were at the point now, that when i offer to impregnate my girl followers, people assume my motives are sexual. disgusting, grow the fuck up,

George W. Bush: friday night gathering up together a big pile of things i like to respect (flags, crucifixes ,etc) and just roll around in it ,give kisses,

Barack Obama: my IQ has increased 10 points ever since i stopped tollerating people mucking about, on the time line

Donald Trump: THERAPIST: your problem is, that youre perfect, and everyone is jealous of your good posts, and that makes you rightfully upset.

ME: I agree

Joe Biden: I will shut the fuck up , IF , it will restore the Harmony. I will get on my knees like a dog and make that sacrifice, for the sake of Calm

[heritageposts]

[...] Desmond Fonseca, UAW 4811 worker at UCLA, told Peoples Dispatch that the local “has long expressed our solidarity with the struggle of the Palestinian working class for dignity, justice and liberation. Our bosses have clearly shown that they are on the side of oppression and exploitation and in doing so have attempted to brutally suppress our workers rights to free speech,” “Our authorization of a strike shows that we will not back down when these institutions attempt to silence our right to peacefully protest a genocide, and that our union will utilize whatever legal means available to continue standing with the movement for a free Palestine. We see a clear path for the university to rectify its illegal activity and show that it is operating in good faith fit to its stated morals: amnesty for our workers who were unjustly arrested, and negotiations rather than repression with the student movement which is righteously protesting for divestment from the Israeli war machine.” Statements like these, in explicit solidarity with Palestine, mark a bold new phase of action for the US labor movement. Although ULP strikes are fully legal, striking for a political cause is banned under the Taft-Hartley Act of 1947. In the United States, union members have far fewer rights to express collective political will than in other countries, as other practices banned under Taft-Hartley include jurisdictional strikes, wildcat strikes (strikes undertaken without the approval of union leadership), solidarity strikes, secondary boycotts, secondary and mass picketing, closed shops, and donations to federal political campaigns. But the actions of UAW Local 4811 workers, as well as academic workers across the country, are bringing US labor back to its radical past.

. . . continues on Peoples Dispatch (May 16, 2024)

[spadesolace]

what’s it like to date thomasian!chaewon as lasallian!reader

you met chaewon through a friend, literally was set up for a blind date, only being given her number, name, and one picture for your contacts

it was easy to pick a place and time considering how flexible your schedule was, being well aware of ust’s workload, you decided what would be much more convenient for her

a coffee date, the safest option there is rather than a dinner date bc who knows - you were a bit skeptical when your friend decided to reto you to her close friend

that date was the start of it all, 3 hours in and chaewon was swooning over you

“i’ll just go use the cr lang.” you excused yourself as chaewon was left by herself that she immediately messaged your mutual friend gushing over you.

“girl, bakit naman green flag tong binigay mo sa akin?” she had attached a selfie of herself wearing your jacket as she had mentioned to you that she was freezing. your friend did mention about it to you when things were going smoothly.

she prefers to study at her place in comparison to yours. there’s nothing wrong with it but it’s not as quiet.

sometimes would lurk at the DLSU freedom wall page in case anyone would confess their feelings to you or simply mention you

but also she asks about the jokes and comments in some posts

chaewon looks up from her phone and shows it to you, a post from DLSU freedom wall one that focuses on freshman students being the one’s at fault. “babe, why do you guys blame the freshmen?”

“i… i’m actually not sure, it has always been like that.” you shrugged, leaning closer to her as you squint your eyes at her phone screen. “why are you even following the page?”

whenever she’s stressed - easily irritated, she’d shout at you to stop tapping your foot or your pen, sometimes it’s also bc she forgot to eat with the amount of workload she has

exam weeks are hell for her, pulling all-nighters, multiple cups of coffee and energy drinks, literally stays up late and only sleeps for an hour or two

once exams are done for her, you always pick her up and let her sleep at your place so that when she wakes up (usually it’s already late) you’d be done with your schoolwork just so you could spend time with her

you’ve been her date to paskuhan twice, and you’ve invited her to animusika once - not really enjoying the fact of a bunch of people wanting to ask her out when you arm is literally around her waist

every date has been around espana or dapitan, somewhere close to chaewon but never at taft

has introduced you to her little sister (eunchae) and loves that you bond and spoil her the same way you do to chaewon

“eunchae, san galing yan?” chaewon points to the new trinkets displayed on eunchae’s desk. a soft smile on the younger girl’s face as she mentions you. it didn’t take long for chaewon to call and scold you for spoiling her little sister (even though deep inside she’s grateful).

if you’re stressed, chaewon would go out of her way and visit you at taft with your fave food knowing that you have the same bad habit as hers

would pepper you with kisses once you feel a bit better and keep you company, despite hating how noisy it gets at taft - if it’s you, she’ll keep her mouth shut and not complain

she’s a great girlfriend but tends to push you away whenever she’s mad, overthinking, overwhelmed, that she does run away from you for days till she’s back at your place drunk and crying for you to take her back

nevertheless, you still love her despite the bad habits

[yesterdays-xkcd]

I love the title-text!

xkcd Loves the Discovery Channel [Explained]

Transcript Under the Cut

[The comic is in parody of the Discovery Channel commercial showing various clips of people singing a song with the chorus line "Boom De Yada."]

[Megan spinning around.] I love momentum.

[Megan laying on floor tinkering with an EEE PC hamster ball robot.] I love to engineer.

[Beret Guy standing in bakery holding a loaf of bread in each hand, a sign with "PIE!" in background.] I love this bakery!

[Cory Doctorow in goggles and a red cape flying superman-style.] I love the blogosphere!

[Cueball running in a large hamster ball.] I love the whole world

[Depiction of internet sludge (4chan b-Random)] And all its messed-up folks.

[Cueball and Megan immersed in playpen balls.] Boom De Yada Boom De Yada

[Mass of playpen balls with speech "I put on my robe and wizard hat" originating from it.] Boom De Yada Boom De Yada

[Black Hat taking a present from a kid with a party hat.] I love your suffering.

[Diagram showing RSA fingerprint authentication between two people.] I love cryptography.

[Cueball and Megan in bed covered by a red sheet.] I love entangled sheets.

[Cueball hanging from a kite string holding a camera.] And kite photography.

[Map of the internet.] I love the whole world

[Cube with a red spider on top.] And all its mysteries.

[Two people sword-fighting on rolling office chairs.] Boom De Yada Boom De Yada

[Classroom with two students and Miss Lenhart.] Boom De Yada Boom De Yada

[Cueball saying "Barack me Obamadeus!" to another man speaking energetically at a podium.] I love elections.

[Cueball holding a schematic diagram of a transistor in front of his crotch.] I love transistors.

[Cueball and Megan in bed, Cueball saying "There must be taft slash fiction."] I love weird pillow talk.

[Cueball speaking to Megan.] I love your sister.

[Roller coaster with Cueball in the front car holding a chess board and thinking about a move.] I love the whole world.

[Beret Guy standing in the midst of leafless trees.] The future's pretty cool!

[Megan doing the MC Hammer slide towards Cueball.] Boom De Yada Boom De Yada

[Cueball and Megan on an electric skateboard.] Boom De Yada Boom De Yada

[glennk56]

Jeff Pope

Jeff Pope is a big ginger bear. His film career started in 2005 with a small role in Hustle & Flow. (no photo) He has played a wide range of characters and started getting better roles when he got heavier. He is proof that a full beard can determine the character.

Here is Jeff Pope playing an angry homeowner in 99 Homes in 2014.

Jeff Pope in fake beard in Action/Drama/Comedy film Bad Asses on the Bayou in 2015. That is Keith Loneker on the left.

Jeff Pope in Return to Sender in 2015.

Jeff Pope in NCIS: New Orleans 2;11 (Blue Christmas) in 2015.

Jeff Pope in TV Series Hap and Leonard in 2016. Jeff appeared in 4 episodes in season 1. Here his character loses his pants to the mud.

Jeff Pope as a policeman in Assassination Nation in 2018.

Jeff Pope as a pharmacy manager in the Crime/Thriller Back Roads in 2018.

Jeff Pope as the moderator in a Comicon event in Action/Comedy Supercon in 2018.

Jeff Pope as a clown in the Horror/Slasher film Darlin' in 2019.

Jeff Pope as a foreman in Crime/Drama Into the Ashes in 2019.

Jeff Pope as high school teacher teaching about STD in Eat Brains Love in 2019.

Jeff Pope as clerical police sergeant in Mindhunter 2;8 in 2019.

Jeff Pope in 2020 in American Reject about an also ran in an American Idol type show.

Jeff Pope in the 2021 mini-series The Underground Railroad as an enforcer.

Jeff Pope as William Howard Taft in Brazilian Mini-Series O Hóspede Americano (The American Guest) in 2021.

Jeff Pope in TV Series Interview with the Vampire in 2022.

[ww2yaoi]

writing in web's pov is so weird for me solely because i'm referring to him as david like who is that!!!!!!! I never call him that but I don't think he would call himself web in his own head.... it's a problem honestly because his family called him kenyon (that's how he signed his letters to them anyway) and he was called ken or web at school (according to his taft yearbook) but in the show he always introduces himself as david webster so david it is I guess. also his wife called him dave or david (seen in web's file from those docs people dug up). like pick a fucking name......

[si1verghosts]

you and me found love (lost under the shade)

re4r leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)

wc: 3.3k

18+ | cw: mentions of drinking, smoking, sex | tw: illusions to suicidal thoughts; author's general preoccupation with death and dying

read on ao3

title: falling asleep on a stranger by pierce the veil | art: taft bridge under the rain [#127] by carmonamedina

a/n: i honestly don't know if i am doing this whole tagging thing right idk how to tag on here so sorry if i missed anything.... anyways, this is the first thing i've managed to finish in months - i did not imagine the first leon fic i'd actually post would be reader insert but here we are!! i hope u enjoy :D

not beta read - all mistakes my own or done purposely due to my general disrespect for the grammatical conventions of the english language.

i do not own leon, yadda yadda, please don't sue me <3

please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chat bot and/or writing generator.

-----

"I can't be what you want," Leon had said, voice even. "Maybe you should try to find someone else; someone who can… be around."

Someone who can give you a straight answer. Someone who doesn't come home bloodied and bruised and can't tell you why. Someone who doesn't make you feel like it's all just a lie. 

You had never heeded any of Leon's suggestions before - "You should go," he had whispered after that first night, and the second, and the third - but you wish you had; so you give it a shot now. 

You let your friend set you up with the guy in accounting at her job she had been telling you about for months. "And get this - he always wears a tie bar! He just seems so put together," she had raved to you over drinks the weekend prior.

Accounting, tie bar, put together. Nice, neat, safe. 

You had shrugged, "give him my number."

He's waiting for you outside the bar when you arrive, jogs over when he notices you approaching, holding his umbrella out over you. It's unnecessary - the cold precipitation is hardly a mist, barely coating the strands of your hair. "You look beautiful," he smiles. It feels rehearsed, platitudinous. You thank him, letting him guide you inside. 

His hand brushes your arm as he helps you out of your jacket, skin soft. You pull away with the shock of it, covering with a small wave of beckoning. He falls in behind you as you traverse the familiar path through the room to your usual spot, settling in before he can manage to make a show out of pulling out your chair.

Same table, different seat; back against the wall - it's a whole new perspective. No longer focused solely on the person across from you, it's as if the whole world falls into your line of sight. It suddenly makes sense why you always found it so difficult to hold on to Leon's attention.

He slinks away to acquire your requested vodka soda from the bar. You pick at your nails until your fingers shake, shifting to look out the windows. The rain has picked up, pelting the glass and obscuring the view. You long for your car and the pack of menthols tucked away in the glove box, nobody to quit for now. 

He returns with your drinks, water for himself - "trying to cut back on carbs, you know? I've been making real progress with my lifts lately." 

"That's great," you smile. 

He leans in, beginning to chatter away excitedly about weights and protein and bicycles and Wall Street. His cologne reeks of business school, of polo shirts and white picket fences and 2.5 kids. You hope you are nodding at all the right moments. His tie bar catches the light of the Budweiser sign hanging behind you, silver glinting red, as if informing you you aren't.

It's hard, much harder than it reasonably should be but you've forgotten how to do this. Leon and you hardly spoke; the silence was easier - until it grew violent from your overreliance. 

You catch the ring of the doorbell over the drone of his voice, a familiar shape of blonde hair and brown leather entering your peripheral vision. You turn, a sick sense of satisfaction slithering up your spine. 

Shoulders hunched and hands shoved deep in his pockets, he shakes off the water droplets clinging to his hair like a dog. He picks his head up, blue eyes and dark circles meet your gaze almost immediately.

You raise a brow, I took your advice; happy?

He spins around, setting the bell off again as he slips out the door. 

"I'm sorry," you interrupt your date, who had been entertaining himself, seemingly never even recognizing your shift in attention. "I'll be right back." 

You are out the door a second later, shoving your arms back into the coat you thankfully remembered to grab, shielding your skin from the rain clouding your vision. Blinking away the droplets from your lashes, you spot Leon making his way down the sidewalk and take off after him, catching up as he nears the corner. 

You call to him, voice near enough to stop him, but only for a moment. "Go back inside," he throws over his shoulder, continuing forward.

You want to reach out and grab him, make him turn to look at you, but his shoulders are set in a tense line. Your touch is sure to set him off like a slingshot. 

Steeling yourself, you dart around him, blocking his path. You find yourself in front of him without any idea of what to say. You gape at him stupidly, chest heaving from the exertion of chasing him down; maybe you should've asked what's-his-name for a good gym recommendation before you ran off.

Leon entertains you for a moment before he huffs, eyes narrowing, "what are you doing?"

It's an excellent question - one you had never bothered to stop and ask yourself. 

What are you doing? 

Why did you agree to go for drinks? Why had you put on the dress Leon had carefully unzipped and let pool around your ankles just a few weeks ago? Why had you asked Mr. Tie Bar to meet you at the bar you knew Leon always popped into after work? 

Fuck. 

You swallow harshly, "trying." 

"Trying?" Leon reiterates, almost laughing. "And what is it that you are trying?"

Normal. To get over you. To make you mad. Honesty. To make you look at me. To make you want me like I want you. Safety. To hurt you. To get you to say something, anything. Trust. To get you to make me stay. To get you to stay. 

You feel yourself frown, the familiar pressure of tears building behind your nose. You try to swallow the feeling but it just mixes with the venom stuck in your throat, bubbling back up after mutating into a bitter twinge of anger. "What the hell does it look like, Leon? You told me to try to find someone else - that's what I'm trying."

He rocks back on his heels, crossing his arms. "Well, it doesn't really seem to be working out, does it?" 

"It was going great, actually." You smile, hoping it's not as hollow as you feel. 

"Oh, yeah?" He cocks a brow, lips pulling into a sly smirk. "Then why are you out here with me?

"You," you huff, at a loss. His words seem to be coming easier than ever while you choke on every one. You shrug, "You looked upset when you left."

"And I'm sure that's exactly what you wanted, right?" His smirk stretches into an acetous grin. "Came to relish in the tears, huh? Sorry to disappoint." He moves to brush by you, but you plant yourself in his path once again. 

"I can't believe-" you start, but stop short. Because you can believe he'd think of you that way - you'd never given him a reason to think otherwise. 

You think back to the silence that had made its home between the two of you, realizing you had used it as a confidant, letting it absorb everything you should've given to Leon instead. 

"I just wanted to check on you, see how you are doing." Your voice comes out as small as you feel under the weight of Leon's gaze. It's ironic - all this time you just wanted him to look at you, and now you wish he'd turn his eyes anywhere else. 

He snorts, short and irascibly, "I don't need you worrying about me."

"I know you don't, Leon," you throw your hands out, rainwater flicking off your skin with your exasperation. "You've made that very clear. But I can't help it - I'm going to anyways." 

"You shouldn't."

"Why not?" You half-yell, half-whine. You cringe at the sound, feeling slightly delirious; freezing cold and nearly begging him to let you care. 

 "Because you can do better." His voice is even once again, feelings stacked neatly away and locked up tight. 

"You don't get to decide that for me," you spit, ears ringing with the echo of your too-loud voice. 

"Yeah," he nods. "I do." 

He steps around you again, intending to disappear down the side street. But this time you grab him, fingers latching onto the slippery leather of his jacket, his arm as tense as a bowstring under your grip. 

"Let me go," he requests without turning to look at you, voice still even, even, even. It's a courtesy, he could easily pull free - but you are sick of his kindness, his courtesies; that's how you ended up here. You don't want them anymore.

"Make me." 

"Let me go," he repeats, slower and thicker. 

"No." If you want me gone, you'll have to force me. You don't say it, but you know he got the message when his shoulders slump, fight draining out of him all at once. 

With the thrill of victory that ripples through you, you make the mistake of loosening your hold on his jacket. He seizes the opportunity, twisting your arm and grabbing you by the bicep, pulling you close. He is running hot despite the chill of the rain, you have to force yourself not to relax into his heat. 

A moment passes, and then another. Neither of you move. The precipitation falls in sheets around you. You can't bring yourself to care. 

Your gaze slides from his chest to his neck to his jaw, backtracking the path of a stray raindrop. You chance a glance at his eyes, finding they are already on you, steely blue shimmering with the light of the streetlamp behind you. 

You love him. 

You wish the ground would crack open, allowing you to freefall straight down to hell. You imagine that would feel better - less painful - than this. 

You love him, and your skin burns with the feeling of it. You want to throw up. You want to kiss him. You want to pound your fists against his chest, curse him for doing this to you. 

You settle for allowing a sob to escape your throat. 

He releases you from his hold instantly at the sound. You scramble to grip his jacket to keep yourself upright - it's pitiful, the teeth of the zipper biting into the skin of your hands. The sharp pain comes as a tether, gifting you the space to ground yourself, to shove the tears back down. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers, tight and clipped. "I didn't mean to-"

"No," you cut him off, voice rough, grating. "It wasn't. You didn't hurt me."

"Okay," he mutters. 

You laugh. You love him and you can't help but laugh, sinking into the insanity of it. 

You feel him start to stiffen again, unsure. The feeling of his discomfort building under your fingers forces you back into yourself, realizing where you are, that you've been causing a scene on the corner down the block from his apartment. 

You release him, but you don't step away, tilting your head just enough to take in the sight of him - parted lips and a handful of freckles, blonde hair tinted green by the neon sign over the entrance of the convenience store a few feet away. 

"I'm sorry," you croak out, drifting back; wishing the rain would melt you down, suck you into the storm drain. That's the only thing that could pull you from him, you think; swirling down the gutters with the cigarette butts and the fallen cherry blossoms until you're laid to rest at the bottom of the Potomac. 

His nose twitches. "For what?"

That I can't find someone else, can't force myself away from you.

That I love you, but can't tell you.  

"For," you throw your hands out, weaker than before. "All of it."

He nods, "It's okay."

You don't want it to be, but you suddenly feel exhausted. Too tired to fight, to pull any more truths from him. 

"Take me home?" You request, you plead. 

He nods again, holding his hand out to you. "Yeah."

You intertwine your fingers with his own, the roughness of his callouses and scars soothing in their familiarity. 

The walk to his place is short. You don't bother trying to shake off the water before entering, leaving a trail of raindrops up the stairwell, down the hall, through his front door, across his apartment to the tiled floor of his bathroom. 

He reaches into the shower, cranking the hot water, allowing the stream to heat up as he helps you out of your wet clothes. He removes the drenched fabric piece by piece - jacket first, then your dress, unzipping it with even more care than the previous time. It doesn't slip off with the same ease, but his gentle fingers pull it from your skin until it falls away. He crouches to undo your shoes, allowing you to step out of them before reaching up and rolling your nylons, guiding them down your legs. 

He moves to do the same with your underwear, fingers resting on the waistband as he glances up to you, silently asking your permission even though he already has it, always will. There's no heat behind his actions, but the tenderness sears your skin all the same. You nod, a low ache settling into the center of your chest as he slides them off you before standing. You unclasp your bra; he doesn't comment on the matching set.

The steam of the boiling shower envelops you as you undress him in turn. You struggle with his belt buckle, stiff fingers uncooperative. He takes over and you drop to your knees to untie the laces of his boots, finding them mercifully secured with single-knots. You make quick work of them and he reaches down to help you up, moving you out of the way before he kicks them off. 

You assist him in pulling his shirt over his head, peeling the cotton away from his skin. You unbutton his jeans as he removes the clips from your hair, wet strands falling limply in front of your eyes. 

"Go ahead and get in, I'll go throw this stuff in the wash." His voice is mellifluous, sickeningly soft. 

It makes you feel like a kid, incompetent and helpless. You hate him for it. You hate yourself for twisting his kindness into something dark and disgusting. 

"I can help," you offer, because that's all you can do; already leaning down to collect your things. "You have to hang the jacket, it's-"

"Wool. I know," his hand brushes your back lightly, "it's okay. I'll be right back."

You straighten up, allowing him to guide you across the bathroom and help you into the tub. You slowly ease your way under the hot stream as he slides the shower curtain closed. 

You watch the shape of him through the cloudy plastic, shucking off his jeans and pulling off his socks. The sobs you had just barely choked down twice before make another escape attempt, clawing at your throat as you watch his shadow collect your clothes and move down the hall. 

You shut your eyes against the sudden emptiness of the room, against the tears and the silence and the panic; against the loathing and inferiority. You take the coward's way out, turning away from it all to hold your face up to the showerhead. 

He returns quickly, rustling around for a moment before slipping into the tub behind you. His presence awards you the bravery you needed to crack open your eyes, to clear your throat. "You're wrong, you know."

Exhaustion overshadows his amusement as he hums in question, "about what?"

Picking your hand up, you reach out slowly to slide your fingers along his collarbone, circle the puckered scar on his shoulder. "That I can find someone better." 

He scoffs, dropping his head, hair fluttering down to obscure his face. 

You move your hand to his neck, thumbing his jaw. "If anything, it's me who doesn't deserve you, Leon." 

He shakes his head, but you ignore the action, continuing before he can protest. "Nobody can take care of me like you do - not even myself. I'm sorry" - for needing you, for burdening you; for loving you even though I'm unworthy of it - "for pushing you. I understand there are things you can't share, but I want whatever you can."

You sigh, shifting your hand at his neck to pull him to you; he follows you easily, achingly. "Even if it's just this." 

He nods minutely, hooking his arms over your hips and resting his forehead on yours. Answer delivered on a breath that floats across your lips, "alright." 

You remain in his arms, his agreement echoing in your mind in time with the beat of your heart in your chest. Seconds morph into minutes, only moving when the water begins to grow cold. 

You wash first, your shampoo and conditioner still on the rack next to his own. Leaving him under the stream, you make your way to his room after wrapping yourself in one of the towels he'd brought into the bathroom. 

Home. You had asked him to take you home and he brought you here, despite your own place being just a few blocks further in the opposite direction of his from the corner you had been on. But his assumption was right; this - he - was home to you.  

The emptiness of his apartment was unsettling at first, but it quickly grew comforting - no regrets staining the carpet; no photos on the dresser of you as a girl you don't remember being. Here you could be untethered from the past you didn't want; white walls graciously offering a clean slate, even if you didn't deserve it, didn't earn it. 

There is a shirt of his waiting on the bed for you, a pair of your pajama pants in the drawer next to his. Your stomach turns at the sight - no wonder he had tried to push you away; you had subconsciously settled into his space, his closet and his bed. 

Your mug in the sink, your pills behind the mirror - the reckless domesticity of it all is startling, terrifying. He had given you an inch and you had taken a mile, too eager for the chance to be something new. 

You pull on the clothes, making your way towards the balcony, a wave of nausea rolling through you under the soft cotton. Outside, it's still raining, translucent ropes sluicing off the overhang of the roof. 

You almost immediately regret stepping outside, feeling as if it's a betrayal of the care Leon took to get you warm; but you needed it. The chill of the air forces your thoughts to line up, to wait to be addressed one by one.

His hand leading you home, your wool coat hung to dry, his shirt waiting on the bed for you to occupy - each act a silent invitation; the realization stirs inside you, grips your collarbones from the inside. 

Could it be…?

You should ask him, but you've asked for more than enough tonight. 

He slides open the glass door, sweatpants low on his hips; the lamp on his nightstand illuminates him from behind, feathering out all his sharp edges. Maybe it's not love; maybe it's just lust, desire - a need so great it's all-consuming. You have no point of comparison to use as a frame of reference, to assist in finding the distinction. 

"I was away for a few days, there's not much in the fridge. Is ramen alright or do you want to order something?" He asks and it's love, you are suddenly sure of it. 

You turn; the sight of Leon in the buttery glow of the bedroom acting as a beacon, guiding you through the terror. "Ramen is fine."

[arthenaa]

Hey bro I like your writing and I was wondering if you could give us some Mizu x Filipino!Reader hcs🥺👉👈 ̶(̶t̶o̶t̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶g̶o̶n̶n̶a̶ ̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶j̶e̶c̶t̶ ̶m̶y̶s̶e̶l̶f̶)̶

I have to make this poetic I'm so sorry but also making it modern!au and canon setting teehee (ALSO DOUBLE UPDATE?) slight nsfw ig!! mdni.

canon divergent, just think of this is as that scene from Goyo where Remedios and Gregorio Pilar do a wholeass pining scene idk

Absolutely met you at some fancy ass noble party

You're a child of a wealthy Senor who's in great partnership with the Lords from the Commonwealth

Mizu's camping in and disguising herself in the party to find more intel on her next target and then she bumps into you

at first you're like very inquisitive of where she came from (considering that you view her as a man at this point), how she enjoys the party and what not

then you're suddenly like ik what you're doing. you're not from here.

Mizu's thrown off bc haha this is an international gathering of sorts and like ppl here are mostly foreign

you're like well its bc you're so obvious when it comes to occasions like this that I've already spotted you from a while back

and so youre like dancing and all and Mizu has no choice but to extract info from you

she reveals that shes looking for a white man, and that he may have connections here in the ph

and coincidence cuz you, who's also a part of the resistance, have been tracing the weapons provider of the spanish army.

so you guys work together. you give her intel, she helps you hunt down the provider and their little goons

it kind of starts like an enemies to lovers .... kind of a forced situation where Mizu has to deal with the resistance in order to get to what she wants but rlly theres no other way around

falls in love w your love for your country

despite your privileged upbringing, you're deeply interconnected with your roots, and have been fighting for the filipino people

you guys fight over the simplest of things, like how she doesnt wear things right or holds weapons correctly

you definitely bond over weaponry though and its history. the first time you've seen her katana, you were so amazed. in return, you showed her a kampilan—a sword carved and forged by your grandfather. she had so many questions.

yeahh overall i think what pulled you together was your shared anger and desperation for justice. No matter the situation, whether it be a resistance against oppression or looking for the man that caused a hellscape within your life, y'all resonated with the emotions and trauma that came with that.

BEST BELIEVE THE SEX WAS GOOD and rough and yes hbejawhejehe mhm

anys thats all. you're like PARA SA PILIPINAS and shes on her knees.

modern au hehe

met through int sch program. mizu is a transferee from japan who joined their uni's international program and got linked w ur sch

she was in one of ur classes and like yeah, she was nearest to u so she had no choice but to ask u for sch stuff

YOU THOUGHT SHE WAS PRETTY CUTE but like u wanted a good impression so u tried to help her as much as u could

even gave her a tour of the campus

showed her a few iconic eating places that she could go to jic her budget was on a limit or wanted good filo food

you wanted to expose her to the culture as slowly as u could just so that she could adapt and pace herself

definitely stuck by your side since then

you learned that she's going to study here for 3 years before going back to japan for her masters, and you're like wow thats so cool and shes like thanks

definitely a gamer

you guys hang out at one of the comp shops nearby (IF NAGAARAL KAYO SA TAFT .... guys suki ako don HAHAHA)

loves learning abt history, esp filipino craftsmanship

you definitely treat her to various street foods

mizu : what's this

you : we call it kwek kwek, but u can call it neon balls

mizu: neon balls????

showed and taught her how public transpo works once, and she gets a hang of it a week later

knows her way around manila than you do (author is projecting mb)

knows basic filo words when navigating. you teach her the slang.

basically friends to lovers guys omg, ayon sana all eme

you do that lips thing where you point w ur lips and at first, she was so confused (this is during your relationship)

she thought you were asking for a kiss and she kissed u and you were like ?!@!?@??$?

mizu: ha

you: I WAS ASKING FOR THE,ASd MUGWTF

mizu: ahhh my bad haha

walks u to class teehee

hangs around in empty class rooms esp comp labs and you guys watch movies there

momol sa dorm, momol sa clasroom na madilim, momol sa may agno charot

MOMOL = MAKE OUT MAKE OUT LANG

revels in simple pda like linking ur pinkies together, thigh against thigh when seating, and just yk so landi. landi niyo.

you have her id pic on the back of ur id and she yours on her clear phonecase

EWWWW GAY PPL (affectionate)

unintentionally matching

loves gifting u jewelry esp necklaces (likes to see it when u guys are in the bedroom, splayed on your chest and just yk decorating your collarbones so nicely)

holds your hand and helps you cross the street omf

pays for ur commute fee when riding the jeepney

memorizes ur kwek kwek and fishball sauce combination

loves exchanging one shoe w u for funsies

loves taking pics w u w the cats on campus

OVERALL A CUTIE TEEHEE!

A/N: DEDICATED KAY DELULU RECEIVER!! eto para sayo sorry ginutom keta ng sobra huhu @ianiralvs may isa pa kong utang sayo na req mo hihi gagawen ko pa yon to muna HHAHHAHA

[todaysdocument]

The Faith of Young America

Record Group 46: Records of the U.S. SenateSeries: Berryman Political Cartoon Collection

Cartoonist Clifford Berryman salutes the seven finalists who participated in a national oratory contest the previous evening at Constitutional Hall. President Calvin Coolidge served as presiding officer and Chief Justice William Howard Taft and four associate justices served as the judges for the finalists who spoke on the Constitution.

This political cartoon shows a young man in a suit holding a copy of the US Constitution and shaking hands with Uncle Sam.  Uncle Sam has respectfully taken off his hat and looks down at the young man, who gazes back admiringly.

[justbeingnamaste]

The White House has remained firm in its position that it will not intervene in negotiations between port workers and dock employers as trade flows screech to a halt and the lead union boss threatens to "cripple" the economy less than 35 days before the presidential election.

A general strike spread across most of the major ports on the U.S. East Coast Tuesday as the labor union representing the workers, International Longshoremen’s Association (ILA), said dock employers failed to give in to their demands. 

The strike threatens to plug up an estimated $2.1 billion in daily trade flows from these busy ports as the presidential election and holiday seasons fast approach. 

Republicans and hundreds of industry associations have called on President Joe Biden to invoke the Taft-Hartley Act, a law originally passed in 1947 that gives the president the authority to intervene in strikes if they threaten to cause a national emergency. The act was last used in 2002 by President George W. Bush to reopen ports on the West Coast after employers prevented longshoreman from entering their facilities. 

But before the strike began Tuesday, Biden signaled he would not invoke the post-war act to end the strike, especially given the immense damage from Hurricane Helene across the U.S. Southeast and persistent inflation as the holiday season approaches. 

“Mr. President, will you intervene in the dockworkers strike if they go on strike on Tuesday?” a reporter asked the president. 

“No,” Biden replied. 

“Why not?” 

“Because there’s collective bargaining, and I don’t believe in Taft-Hartley,” Biden said. 

The White House on Tuesday again confirmed the president would not use the authority under the act to intervene in the negotiations even as the union appeared to dig in its heels for the long haul. The White House indicated its calculus stems from briefings by federal agencies on the potential impacts of the strike which “are expected to be limited at this time” on consumers. 

Biden is also motivated by political calculus with the presidential election just more than a month away. Breaking up the strike with his presidential authority could damage Kamala Harris’ chances with a key union worker constituency, among which previous polls show she has struggled to maintain Biden’s levels of support. Leaving the strike unaddressed could cripple the U.S. economy—in the union boss’s own words—under his watch. Historically, a downturn in the economy rarely favors the incumbent party, which in this case would hurt Harris’ election chances. 

[blueberry-bubbles130]

Okay people you know the drill by now. Showing historical figures fanfiction of them:

American Politician edition. Round two!

I never once in my years of existence that I would ever read a fanfiction that had Jimmy Carter and Abby Lee Miller in it. But here we are.

[homestuckreplay]

Favorite Homestuck Character: 27th US President William Howard Taft

(page 556-566)

8/29/2009 Wheel Spin: Dramatic Irony Verdict: Puns, The Lower Form Of Humor

8/31/2009 Wheel Spin: Parent Bad :( Verdict: Brother Truly Awful And Horrendous

We begin these pages with John, followed by a quick cut to Dave. Both of them navigating the dangers of their home and the possibility of being watched, but in very different ways.

The Colonel Sassacre and Bathtub level ups are clearly just a setup for puns, so I’m not gonna read too much into the idea that everything can level up (yet). But Colonel Sassacre gained 9550 boondollars from his level, so he must be pretty far up the echeladder compared to the bathtub (490) and John’s meager 200. Sassacre’s new level is ONE MAN JULEP VACUUM. A julep is a chilled cocktail, today usually made with mint, bourbon and crushed ice, although historically used rose petals and was prescribed for health. In 1939, the mint julep became the official drink of the Kentucky Derby after being drunk there probably since its inception. For the ‘genteel, aristocratic southern colonel’ hoovering up a large number of juleps at the derby must be a sign of social status. A high achievement indeed.

Meanwhile, the bathtub’s levels are both references to apocryphal bathtub-related stories. ARCHIMEDED was the ancient Greek mathematician who got into the bathtub and realized that placing an object into a liquid would displace that volume of that liquid (and could therefore determine what metal an object was made from, via the relationship between weight, volume and density) and ran naked through the streets yelling “eureka!” So, his AQUACRADLE is the watery crib that nourished and inspired him. Meanwhile, William TAFT was the US President famous for being the heaviest person in office, who was believed to have gotten stuck, or JAMMED, in the White House bathtub. Although both of these stories are probably false, they’re famous and they’re fun references.

Finally, VAULTHALLA is a pun on Valhalla, the hall of slain warriors in Norse mythology. It’s horrific as a pun (complimentary) but I do think p.558 is the best looking page in all of Homestuck so far. The jewel tones streaked to create the sunset and the sea, the way the boat bobs on the waves and the fire flickers and is reflected in the water is way more beautiful than it needs to be to carry the pun.

LAD SCRAMBLE (p.560) is John’s equivalent of YOUTH ROLL (p.379) in terms of being acrobatic feats attempted and failed by these characters. Can’t wait for Dave’s Dude Scoot and GG’s Kid Tumble. But I am really glad this happened to our boy on the lowest flight and not miles above the house. The code violations on Rose’s building are scarier to me than the absolutely MASSIVE imp that shows up afterwards.

As predicted, this is the rook. It has a better moveset than the imps and is worth about five of them power-wise which is absolutely more than John can handle. The learning curve of Sburb continues to be really steep. I wonder if all the enemies are literally climbing up from below? It makes sense given that they’re part of the forces of darkness, and it sets the game up as a giant chase using architecture, where – at a certain point – just out-climbing the smaller enemies might be more effective than killing them, and only the higher level enemies will even reach the players.

Returning to Dave after a hundred pages away from him is like stepping from the normal world into the first layer of endless puppet hell. His mind is a complex and terrible place, but he – or the narrator – is getting closer to admitting some things. He feels ‘pangs of jealousy’ about his bro’s turntable gear and there’s a mention of getting worked up, and he acknowledges that his bro’s comic ‘get[s] under [his] skin’ and that he thinks it’s ‘just a little TOO ironic.’ He is also aware that ‘trouble’s a-brewin’ due to a missing sword. This feels like somebody getting sucked in too deep to a subculture that’s fine in moderation, but then somebody takes it way too far to the point that it’s harmful – but by then it’s too late to get out, especially when that somebody lives with you, has power over you and presents themself as an authority.

Today I learned that ‘Animal’ is the actual name of a Muppets character (along with Rowlf). This comic is of course puppet themed – Bro does not have a diversity of interests – being tormented by Jigsaw from the movie Saw, which I will watch soon. The art style is different to Sweet Bro & Hella Jeff, less pixelated and artifacted with some hand lettering instead of Comic Sans, darker in both tone and color palette. I’m sure this is post-post-post-post-ironic to some people but to me this is just every ‘what if we took a children’s story… and made it Fucked Up’ post that has been made on the internet in the last decade.

There’s also near-confirmation that Bro is hiding close by and messing with Dave’s mind via sylladex. On p.563, there’s a flash of the sword on the wall being captchalogued, and on p.564, the flash of Lil Cal being de-captchalogued – both from back towards the couch area if my mental picture of the room is right. Out of every character we’ve met so far, Dave’s bro is the one without a single redeeming quality; every new fact or insinuation draws him as an even worse guy.

[rosecabenson]

I’m starting a random daily ship post, because why not?

Day 1: Benovak (my beloved)

—

Olivia, busting into Casey’s office: CASSANDRA NOVAK-

Casey, who was burried in a pile of Chinese take out up until now: I swear to you, I have no idea how Taft felt down his stairs and broke his shins-

*dead silence*

Olivia:…I’m sorry, WHAT HAPPENED TO TAFT???

Casey: WAIT THATS NOT WHY YOUR MAD??

Olivia: No! Babe, I was a BIT MAD WHEN I FOUND OUT YOU STAINED OUR SHOWER WITH THE PURPLE SHAMPOO- WHAT DID YOU DO TO TAFT???

Casey:…Oh that I did do, the shampoo, sorry honey I’m still getting used to the blonde-

Olivia: IS HE ALIVE-?!

Casey, grabbing her briefcase: SUDDENLY I HEAR THE GLORIOUS VOICE OF DONALLEY-

Olivia: CASSANDRA NOVAK SHES BEEN ON VACATION- WHAT DID YOU DO-?!

Meanwhile in the squad room:

Elliot:…

Melinda:…

Huang: They are my Roman Empire.

Elliot: I failed history what does that mean-?

Melinda:…Your a man and it shows, Elliot-

Elliot: RUDE???

[knights-of-beleriand]

𝙍𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝

𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙤, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙨𝙤 𝙟𝙪𝙢𝙥 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄'𝙢 𝙟𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜

𝙎𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪

𝙎𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙣.

Is this new russingon?

With new outfits and everything?

Oh yes it is!!!

We wanted to create something that would be their wedding attire and we came with this project

Silks and tafts because they are royals but also leathers and harness because they are warriors

I am so happy with this project and all the photos came out so amazing!!!!

But we want to start with showing you this one

Words cannot express how much i love my Nelyo and how proud i am making this❤️

I hope you like it too ❤️

Costumes are entirely made by us