#the southside movement

[woodencup]

The SouthSide Movement-I' Been Watching You(1973)

[soulmusicsongs]

You Are The One That I Need - Southside Movement & Jackie Ross (Cold Hearted Woman, 198?)

[b0neless]

go to soundcloud and search ASIANWOKSTAR and Listen

[plus-low-overthrow]

Southside Movement - Mississippi Cutback (20th Century)

wrt. & prod. James Vanleer, 1974.

[djevilninja]

Now we’ve got to take a stand; Everybody, hold your brother’s hand.

Southside Movement - Save the World

[moremaybank]

tending to jj's cuts and bruises after he defends your honour... (based on this post and this request) [0.8k]

"Ow."

Your hands work diligently at the cut etched across his cheekbone from your stance between his legs. For a moment, one wanders off, stroking his non-battered cheek in a silent apology for the added pain.

"You did this to yourself," you state matter-of-factly. "No one told you to turn into the Hulk."

"Well, you don't have to be mean about it."

"I'm not trying to be mean. I just don't understand why you can't let shit go sometimes."

You move on to his split lip. A jagged, dark red line cuts through the mouth that you think about far too often. You ache to kiss it, believing that maybe you occupy the healing powers he so obviously needs, but then you think better of it.

There's no way he feels it too.

You dab a wet towel at his lip, cleaning off the dried blood, and once his mouth is free, he chooses to defend himself, thankfully with his words this go around.

"You didn't hear what he said about you, Y/N/N. I wasn't about to jus' let him get away with that shit."

Your eyes meet his, and you pause your movements. Though you appreciated his loyalty and how he'd always stick up for you no matter the cost, you never enjoy when he actually goes to those great lengths just to protect you.

Simply having him in your corner was more than you could ever ask for.

"Kelce is an idiot. I don't care what he has to say about me, and you shouldn't either."

"Well, I do. He's lucky he didn't leave in a bodybag."

Your eyes narrow at him. "You're impossible."

"'M jus' sayin," he says. His tender and sore hands travel up the sides of your thighs, warmth blossoming through you in their wake. He gives your flesh a squeeze. Funnily enough, he can no longer feel the pain flashing through them like lightning bolts now that he's touching you. "I'll never let anyone say or do anythin' to hurt you, princess. I'll always protect you."

You feel the warmth bloom in your cheeks, and you're eternally glad that he isn't holding your face the way he always does. You'd be busted if he were.

You offer him a small smile, one you can't suppress. How can you be expected to after those sentiments?

"Look, I know I probably sound like a broken record, but you can't keep putting yourself in the position to get in trouble. You're not a kid anymore, and you've had enough run-ins with the law as it is."

"'M not scared of gettin' in shit, Y/N/N."

"I'm serious," you frown down at him.

"So am I. Fuck the opps."

You scoff, wanting to wipe that devilish smirk off his face. "You sound like Pope."

"Who d'you think taught him that?"

You know he thinks this is all just a joke. Not the defending you part, but the getting in trouble with the law part. He'll always do what he feels he needs to, regardless of the possible consequences. It's just how he is. Still, you don't think it's a joke. You hate how Shoupe and the rest of them take all his indiscretions and use it as ammo to remind him that he'll never escape the southside. You'd hate to be the reason that he 'proves them right.'

"J, I mean it." You set the items that occupy your hands down on the marble counter, and grab his face in your hands, careful of his cuts and bruises. "All I'm asking is that you try and keep it together. Please. I don't like watching you get hurt."

He's silent for a moment, analyzing your words and the sincere look on your face. Yeah, you're his best friend, but it's always a nice reminder that someone actually wants to look out for him and care for him.

He likes it even better when it's you who's doing so.

The corners of his lips turn up and his hands migrate to the backs of your thighs. He uses his hold on you to urge you closer. "You're worried about me."

You give him an incredulous look. "Yes, JJ. I worry about you. After all this time, I don't even know why you question that."

"'Cause you're the only one who does."

You melt inside, and you're sure you do so on the outside as well. Your eyes soften, and to distract him from it, you go back to cleaning him up, reaching for some q-tips and the disinfectant.

His eyes flutter closed when you touch him again.

"If you wanted attention, you coulda just said so," you joke, unable to resist poking fun at him.

"Shut up," he says, laughing softly. His eyes are open again, and he looks up at you so tenderly that he wants to tell you what he's been feeling all this time.

I love you.

It's on the tip of his tongue, but when he wills it to leave his mouth, they refuse him.

He goes for the next best thing.

"Look, I'll try to...control myself. No promises, though."

A small smile graces your lips. "Thank you."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

[kazutora-kurokawa]

hey kaz, um... can you do bonten sanzu with a soft reader who's a pediatrician, she really likes kids and she wants kids too! like every time they do it, she always asks if sanzu will finally give in to her wishes...

Bonten!Sanzu x Soft!Pediatrician!Reader

♡ NSFW, fem reader, this is low-key just plot with smut and a bit of fluff, soft sex soft sex soft sex! ♡

note: anon I'm so sorry 😭 I know you requested this at least a month ago, but I'm here now to deliver so we're all good, right pookie?

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You and Sanzu were an interesting couple to say the least. He was a dangerous criminal and he ended up with a such a sweet girlfriend, much to his surprise. Though what surprised him even more was the fact that you actually wanted kids with him. He never felt like he'd live up to the role of being a father, or even a proper role model.

But you made him feel differently. With you, he felt like he could do anything, like he could be anything. And what he wanted to be was everything you needed, and if that included being the father of your children then he'd give you exactly what you wanted.

Night after night, when he'd come home from work and leave behind the grimy work he did for a living, he'd stop being Sanzu for a while. For now, he was just your Haru. He could forget himself and all the terrible things he'd done with you underneath him, clawing at his back as his hips repeatedly slapped against yours. He peppered kisses on your neck and face, getting high off the soft whimpers of his name you let out.

The way you begged him every night to knock you up drove him up the walls, but he always pulled out, even after saying he wouldn't. But tonight wasn't like those nights, tonight he needed every ounce of your being and every drop of his seed to fill you. His cock ravaged your insides despite his slow pace, hands gripping the plush of your thighs as he whispered in your ear.

"I'm not gonna pull out tonight...I promise."

He slowed his thrusts down even further, hitting all the right spots inside you to make you drench his cock in your juices. As you wrap your legs around his waist, he slides his hand between your bodies, toying with your clit.

"C'mon sweets, let's cum together."

He ceased all movement as he felt you clench around him, anticipating your release and rubbing your clit faster. He trailed sloppy kisses across your jawline, pumping his hot load inside you as you cum.

"That's it pretty girl... finally getting what you wanted. You're gonna be such a good mom."

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx @evergreen-endo @hanmaslilslut @dystop4in14nd @mysouleaten @mdsbabygirl

[myocsfanfictions]

South Side Story

Shameless Fanfiction Season 1

Desna Hills has come living in the Southside of Chicago four years before. Taken in by Kev and V, Desna is close friends with the Gallaghers. Let's see how this Southside story unfolds.

Warning: this story will contain smut.

Masterlist - Next >>

Chapter 1

"Oh fuck, Lip!" She moaned, gripping the bars of the bunk bed as Lip was thrusting himself from behind her.

"Am I making you feel good, Des?" he held tight to her hips, setting the pace.

"So fucking good," she moaned, moving her hips so as to make him understand that she wanted him to move faster. He chuckled as he gripped her harder, surely living marks, as he complied with her silent request.

"Oh my god!" she almost cried, covering her mouth with her hand. It was too loud. They could not be loud, or the children might hear something from downstairs.

"Afraid to get caught?" Lip asked teasingly as Desna looked at the closed door.

"What if…oh fuck" she moaned, "The kids hear…shit…or if Fiona gets back?"

Lip stopped his movement, slipping out of her, before turning her so that he could look at her in the eyes. His hands caged her head.

"Then we have to be quick about it," he said before crushing his lips on hers in a hungry kiss, leading her to walk to the side of the bed.

"Ian's bed makes so much fucking noise," she complained in between kisses; her arm circled his shoulder, and one of her hands moved to touch his hair like she knew he liked it.

"Better then," he said pushing her on the materass before, climbig above her, he was quick to put himself in between her, entering her with a strong hip thrust, "Since you'd love to be caught."

"Oh fuck, Lip!" She tried desperately to keep quiet, her eyes shut and her lips open.

"You like it, don't you?" The sound of skin slapping was filling the room, Lip's moans in her ears as he kissed the skin of her neck.

"Lip, please…" she whispered, trying to keep quiet, her eyes on the door as his pace got faster. God, he was thrusting so good in her.

"Yeah, you do," he moaned, sliding one of his hands in between them to start rubbing her clit, and to stop herself from crying, she had to bite on his shoulder, making him course, but it didn't make him stop talking, "Like when I fuck you in the bathrooms at school, yeah?" His strong thrust made her moan, and his words made her shiver.

"Fuck, Lip!" She moaned again, making him chuckle.

"You'd like to be seen as I fuck you hard," he said before kissing her, silencing the loud moan that was about to leave her lips. His speed increased, and she did all she could to follow his pace. She could feel him stretching her so well, reaching that spot inside of her that made her forget everything. His finger worked on her, pushing her closer and closer to her release.

"Shit, Lip, don't stop!" She begged gripping his hair making him groan, his lips were back on hers to give her another hungry kiss.

"Don't stop!" She said as he thrusted up, making her yelp. "Shit, Lip!"

"I love to fuck you, Des," with every thrust, moans left her mouth, "So fucking good, Desna!"

She bit at his shoulder again as she climaxed, her eyes closed and her hands gripping the cloth of her shirt.

God, Desna Hills loved how Lip Gallagher fucked her. And she absolutely adored observing him as he moved above her, checking his release. His eyes closed, low groans lifting his lips.

"Wait," Desna said as other moans left her mouth because of his movements inside of her. "Lip, stop!"

"What? What's wrong?" He asked, stopping before his eyes looked down at where their bodies were joined, probably afraid that he had hurt her somehow.

Desna smiled before moving her fingers under his chin so that his blue gaze was on her.

"I want you to cum in my mouth," at her words, his eyes widened before a smirk appeared on his lips.

"That's fucking hot, Des," he said, before kissing her, giving another thrust that made her leave a sound in between a chuckle and a moan. He then moved away so that he could sit at the edge of the bed. Desna smirked as she moved to stand up so that she could walk in front of Lip, locking her eyes with his and making sure never to look away as she knelt in between his legs. Her hands traced patterns on his tights before her fingers closed around his shaft, making him try to hold a moan in. Desna smiled at the reaction as she moved her hand up and down, his body tense, so she got closer kissing the top of his cock, giving him quick teasing licks.

"Don't be mean, Desna," he said, his knuckles white for the force with which he was gripping the sheets, "I don't know how much more I will last."

Desna smirked before opening her mouth to take him in.

"Shit, fuck!" He moaned as she started to bob her head up and down. She made sure that her hair was out of the way so he could see her taking his full length in her mouth and to make sure he could see her green eyes on him.

"Fuck, you're so hot, baby," she smiled, sucking harder and moving her head faster. She really wanted to see him cum for her like that.

"Shit, Des," he said, covering his mouth with his hand, careful not to make too much noise. At that point, she took his other hand to put it in her hair so that he could move her as he pleased. And so he did. She relaxed as he gripped the root of her dark hair, moving her head as he needed. He hit the back of her throat at some point, making her gag.

"Fuck I love this, Des," He said, moving her head faster, "Fuck you're so beautiful like that." He was there, and she loved it, "Shit, I love to fuck you so bad!" And with that, she could feel his hot liquid hitting the back of her throat. He was groaning to try and keep the volume down as she moved her head up and down his half some more before releasing with a pop. Her green eyes locked in his blue ones, he was breathing heavy, red cheeks and messy hair. That was a sight she liked to see, and she felt proud that she was the one making him feel like that. As she started to lick his cock again, ready to take him once more.

"Stop, stop," he said with a grin, making her stand up with him. "I can't believe you've given me head," his arms moved around her waist, and from her lips escaped a chuckle.

"Was it good?" she asked, putting her hands on his shoulders. "I've seen it somewhere, and I wanted to try." He pulled her closer, making her giggle.

"Good does not describe it," he said, chuckling, before his eyes moved to observe her face. He was looking at her intensely, and she could not stop herself from biting her lips, and he groaned, "God, I want to fuck you again so bad."

She smirked as he leaned forward to kiss her. Her lips moved against his, her eyes closed, and she moved her arms to circle his shoulders so as not to make him move away. Then he moved to rest his forehead on hers.

"Do you wanna?" He said, giving her another peck on the lip.

"I'm supposed to look out for the kids," she said, her fingers now gripping his locks.

"They are smart kids; they can survive," he said, looking at her before putting his lips on hers again, his grip around her waist tight. "Come on…" he whispered.

Desna chuckled.

"What got you so eager?" she asked. "What is it? Karen hasn't given you any lately?"

He smirked before assaulting her mouth again. His hand moved under her skirt, making her moan as he started to rub her clit again.

"Don't be a bitch," he said as his tray of kisses moved to her neck. Her hand secured on his hair.

"I'm not the bitch, here," she said, pulling him closer with a serious expression. She wasn't like Karen.

"Don't be jealous, then," he chuckled, assaulting her neck again, but Desna only scoffed.

"Of Karen Jackson?" She said as she could feel him hardening again against her body, "Please, how many times have you fucked her today?"

He stopped his movement thinking, "Um… none" She smirked as she leaned closer to his mouth, "And how many times did you fuck me today?"

"Four," at his words, she frowned.

"Three," she corrected him.

"Yeah, you're right," Lip said as if he was thinking. That was his smartass face; she knew it by now. "Well, then let's make it four!" he said before pushing her onto the bed, making a yelp leave her mouth.

"Lip, I have to go back down," she said, chuckling.

"You are helping me, don't you remember?" he said, positioning himself between her legs. "You have to help me find my phone," he said, entering her again.

Desna moaned at the sensation, "What shit of an excuse!" She said before moaning again as he started to thrust inside of her. Her core was still sensitive from before, making her feel his every move even more. "Oh fuck, Lip, shit!"

"Fuck, Des," he moaned in her ear. He was fastening his pace, the room filled with the sounds of heavy breaths and skin slapping once again when they could hear footsteps on the stairs.

"Des! The alarm of the oven went off!"

"Fuck, Debbie!" Lip exclaimed as Desna pushed him away so that she could stand up. She fixed her shirt and skirt before exiting the room, making sure to close the door behind her.

"And charge the fucking phone next time, Lip!" She exclaimed with fake annoyance before turning towards Debbie, who was now running to her.

"So, did you two do it?" the girl asked, making Desna wide her eyes.

"What?" It came out with a higher pitch than what she had expected.

"The phone. Did you find it?" Debbie asked with a frown.

"Yeah," Desna said, smiling. "It would have been easier if that room hadn't been a mess."

"Tell me about it," the little girl said, nodding her head, before taking Desna's wrist, "We have to go!"

"Where?"

"The alarm went off; the cookies are ready!" Debbie argued.

Shit, that was true.

"Debs, go turn off the oven. I have to use the bathroom real quick, and then I'll take out the cookies."

Debbie observed her, but she seemed satisfied with her answer.

"Alright, but hurry up!" Then she ran towards the stairs.

Desna took a deep breath. That was another close call; she thought as she went to the bathroom to wash her hands and fix her hair.

Desna Hills had known the Gallaghers for four years now since she had moved to live with Kev and V on the South Side of Chicago. She have known Kev since she was a child, her family was totally fucked up, so when she was twelve Kev and V decided to take her in. Desna loved to live with them; they were funny and nice, and they even gave her a job at Kev's place, called the Alaby. It was filled with drunk people, and there was nothing that she hadn't already seen, but she liked the place. In the morning, she goes to school, and sometimes, in the afternoon, she babysits Fiona Gallagher's children. She wasn't paid for that, but she didn't care. Fiona was V's best friend, and now Desna had become the Gallaghers' friend as well.

"It went well," Desna looked at Lip through the mirror.

"You clearly have no idea what well means," she said, shaking her head with a chuckle before moving to walk out. However, as she passed next to him, Lip stopped her by the waist.

"I'm sorry," he said as he shrugged his shoulders, "We were having fun, weren't we?" His hands were around her waist, and as her hands moved around his neck, their bodies closed once again.

"We were," she said, rubbing her nose against his.

"When can we finish?" She laughed at his words.

"You are so eager today!" Desna said, trying to move away. "What's gotten into you?" But Lip only smirked before pulling her closer and kissing her lips hungrily again.

"I want you," he muttered against her lips, and Desna smiled, liking that he was saying those words.

"I want you too," she said as her hand moved to the front of his jeans, making him suck in a breath, trying not to make noise. She moved her head so as to lock their lips together. They kissed hard, like always, his hands around her waist, and her fingers started to trace the shape of his cock, and he shivered.

"Fuck, Desna," he said, moving his head away so that he could take a deep breath since her hand was palming him through his jeans now.

Desna then moved to his neck, tracing a line of kisses until she reached his ear, "I really want you so fucking bad," she moaned in his ear, to which he answered with a "Fuck, baby," She could feel his hard-on now, and after she made few more moans to work him up, she moved away.

"But not today," she said, running away.

"Come on! You can't!" Desna heard him say as she made her way down the stairs.

He had started it first. She had a job to do; he could not distract her like that without a payback. And she liked to think him upstairs all hot and bothered for something that she did.

This thing with Lip had started for free months now. Desna had always had a crush on Lip since she met him. He was smart, crazy smart, probably the smartest person she had ever met. He was a couple of years older than Desna, and they had been friends since they met. Desna was the same age as Ian, the third Gallagher brother, and the three of them were always together. Lip had always been nice to her, even if she knew he was a ladies man, he liked to fuck around, but Desna didn't care. They started sleeping together when they found themselves alone in the living room of the Gallaghers' house. They had sex on the couch.

Since that day, they had started "this kind of relationship," as Desna liked to call it, while Ian always said that that kind of relationship already had a name: "friends with benefits." And she knew that, she wasn't naive. Desna was well aware that she and Lip weren't exclusive since he was fucking Karen Jackson as well. And even Karen Jackson was fucking… well, every living soul. While Desna wasn't. One part of her said that it was because she still didn't found anyone to fuck, but another part told her that it was because she already had the guy that she wanted. She was aware that that was not a normal relationship, but for now, it was enough for her.

"Look, Des, look!" Debbie said, jumping in front of the oven. Debbie Gallagher was twelve years old, and she was a sweet and lively girl. The Gallaghers, like everyone in the South Side, weren't actually lucky with money, and Debbie was very careful with the payments of the bills, keeping track of everyone with their part of the money. She was very mature for her age.

Desna smiled at Debbie as she grabbed a rag to shield her hand from the heat of the oven.

"Be careful; it's freaking hot," Desna said before turning towards the living room, "Carl, sweetheart, cookies are ready!" The fifth Gallagher brother was Carl Gallagher, a boy of eleven, he was one of a kind, that's how Desna would describe him. He was a very active boy with a love for destruction.

The boy was now looking at the TV, but when he heard Desna call for him, he immediately got up running into the kitchen.

"They are ready?" He said as he moved his hand to take one.

"Be careful," she said as she took the last Gallagher brother, Liam, in her arms.

"If I hurt myself, would you kiss me better?" Carl said with a smirk, to which she shook her head with a fonding look.

"Maybe when you're older," she said, rocking Liam back and forth, who let out a giggle.

"When is "older"?" Carl asked, as always. It was no new subject to her. Fiona had told her that Carl had developed a crush on Desna, so he always tried to make his move, as he liked to call them. Desna found it cute, though.

"Maybe when you're eighteen?" She guessed, making him shake his head.

"It's too far away."

"That's how it is, buddy," she said, stroking his hair, "Eat the cookies," Then she turned to Debbie, who was biting one, "Is it good, Debs?"

Her eyes grew large, "They are so good, I want the recipe!"

Desna smiled, "I'll write it down for you." Then, she could hear some steps from the stairs behind her. As she turned, she noticed Lip running down.

"Hey," she said teasingly, "I've Taken care of everything upstairs." But as they looked at each other, she could see some nervousness in his gaze, different from what she was expecting.

"Lip," Desna called him, getting closer to the boy and touching his arm. "Is everything alright?" She observed his face as he nodded his head.

"No, yeah, yeah, it's fine," he answered before looking directly into her eyes, "I need to talk to you."

Desna frowned. She looked at the children before looking at Lip.

"Lip." She said warningly.

"No, not upstairs," he was quick to add, "Outside."

They looked at each other, her green eyes looking at his blue ones once again. She liked to get lost in his eyes so much.

"Outside seems fine," she said, nodding her head at him before turning to Debbie.

"Debs, I leave Liam to your expert watch," Desna said with a smile as she gave the toddler in Debbie's arms.

"Leave it to me," Debbie assured. Desna caressed her auburn hair before following Lip outside the house. She observed him as he sat down on the porch, lighting a cigarette. He seemed really nervous.

"Lip?" she asked, sitting next to him. His leg was bouncing up and down, so she moved closer to take his free hand in hers.

"What is it?" She asked gripping his hand, he was so relaxed before, what could have happened so suddenly?

"I was…" he said after a moment of silence, "I wanted to take care of your little prank," she would have smiled if he didn't seem so nervous, "And I took our porn magazines, but they weren't mine," he said, and she found herself frowning.

"Okay?" She asked, wondering where this was going.

"There were fucking males on it," he said, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"I don't understand," she admitted. And he nodded his head.

"Yeah… me neither…" he whispered, looking down.

"I'm sure," she said, moving closer so that their legs were touching, "But I really do not understand what's happening. Probably they are Fiona's-"

"They were in my room," he interrupted her before turning to look at her in the eyes. Why would male pornography be in the boys' room? Unless, of course…

"Oh…" she muttered, and she noticed him nod his head.

"Yeah…I think they are Ian's," he said after a moment of silence. His leg was bouncing up and down again. Desna observed him deep in thought. She wanted him to talk to her; she'd really wanted it.

"Does it bother you?" She asked, squeezing his hand to gain his attention.

"That my brother might be gay, well yeah!" He exclaimed, standing up, making her release the hold she had in his hand.

Desna took a heavy breath.

"Why?" She asked, observing him as he paced back and forth.

"Why would he?" he said, his hand in his hair. "What's the point? I mean, how can he be attracted to that?"

"Well, I'm attracted to that, too, so I can see the charm," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Not funny," he said, unable to stay still. Something really bothered him, and even if that was unexpected, he was acting strange.

"What I can't see is why it bothers you so much." At those words, Lip stopped, looking at her as if she were out of her mind.

"My brother is not gay," he said firmly.

"But this is not the point," she insisted, "One likes what one likes, as long as he is happy-"

"He is not, that's it!" He exclaimed, making her roll her eyes, "He maybe needs to be fucked by a girl!"

"No, you need to be fucked by a girl," she said standing up, "Ian can decide for himself, he does not need you to tell him what he likes," her arms crossed over her chest.

"He is not gay, Desna," he repeated, and that made her walk closer to him.

"Why does it bother you so much?" She asked, looking at him in the eyes, but he shook his head, turning away, "Why?" She insisted, searching for his gaze, "There must be a reason, or you wouldn't act like an asshole,"

"Oh, I'm an asshole now?' He asked sarcastically.

"Yeah," she said, nodding her head, "If you're only imposing yourself on Ian, then you are an asshole," He shook his head, chuckling with annoyance, taking a step back, "So, why?" She asked again.

"Why what?!" Lip exclaimed.

"Why does it bother you so much?" she asked again. There must have been some other motives; Lip was too smart to act in such a way.

"Fuck you, Des," he said. Her eyes widened.

"Fuck me?" She exclaimed, "Fuck you! You can't even be honest."

"Honest?" He exclaimed angrily, "What is this a talk show?"

"You're acting like a prick, and I should be the one to go fuck herself?" She asked with wide eyes, not even understanding how they got into that argument.

"You're right," he said, turning to walk toward the exit of the Gallaghers' garden.

"Where are you going now?" Desna asked as she looked at him.

"I forgot I had to go to Karen," that name made her blood boil.

"Now you have to go to- you know what? Fuck you, Lip!" She screamed as he walked away.

"I will!" He said back, "Fucking Karen!"

At that, she turned her back on him, shutting the door angrily.

Fucking Lip Gallagher!

_____________________________________________________________

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[ludinusdaleth]

what are some ways to get involved in NTX? what activist groups do you recommend?

these are some folk ive donated to, worked with, or at least heard stellar recommendations about from others. all of them have social media, i will link their instagrams:

dallas sandwich sundays (one of the best imo)

remembering black dallas (absolutely vital because dallas is gentrification station)

say it with your chest (one of the best imo)

janes due process

la frontera noz cruzó

trans texas

palestinian youth movement dfw / students for justice in palestine (one of my closest friends is very close to these, they really need help)

fort worth food not bombs

texas muslim womens foundation (one of the best imo)

turning point rape crisis prevention center (i did my first ever activist steps with them)

nelson-tobedo resource center (massive dfw hrt and prep provider, my own. please donate or volunteer theyre really gonna need it)

DHREAM

denton left

stop cop city dallas (i neeeeed folk to pay attention to cop city as an issue)

fund texas choice

oak cliff veggie project

bonton farms

southside community garden

united peoples coalition

please feel free to add more.

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 12: War Councils

Rhoda has gotten herself a chair, and is sitting in it to poke around in my tablet’s settings, trying to see if she can figure out why the battery insists on reporting that it’s at 100% even though I haven’t charged it since Kimberly gave it to me.

Or, at least, I think that’s what she’s doing. I can’t see the screen from where I’m sitting.

Cerce is watching her curiously.

While she works, Rhoda almost absently starts talking about something else, “Meghan, there’s something you need to be aware of, if you haven’t checked the local news today. You don’t need to do anything about it besides probably behave yourself as best you can.”

I compose myself carefully to show her that I’m listening. But she’s not looking at me.

“That squabble last night. I think it was Loreena and Poink? Apt names, if I’m right,” she says.

“Yes,” I affirm.

“The two of them, with ample help from the police – but that’s not going to factor into this of course – destroyed half of the Southside Fred Meyer,” she says. “Both City Council and County Council are holding emergency sessions tonight because of it. I’m planning on being at one of those meetings to speak on behalf of you and your kind, if I can. If they let me.”

Oh.

I can only say “yes”, “no”, and “stop”, or make expressions that she’s not looking at, because she has my tablet, but that’s OK. I think she’s going to keep talking anyway until she’s informed me and Cerce of all that’s going on.

“The funny thing is, if you can call it funny, Loreena and Poink were shopping,” she says. “They met in the meat department, of course. Which is right between their two territories, and why they had the dispute.” She pokes at my tablet some more. “But, I’m pretty certain we’re going to have some new laws, policies, and ordinances regarding dragons by next week or so. And the police are going to be empowered to act on them. Or animal control. Or both.”

She squints at the screen, and I bow my head.

“That’s going to put you in a really tight spot, and maybe a lot of danger,” she says. “The sheriff's department has a tank they bought in 2008. It can’t get up to the roof you sleep on, but – oh, this is very interesting.”

“What is it?” Cerce asks.

Rhoda puts the tablet down on the table so we can all see. She’s opened the file browser and navigated to the system folder. And she points at an icon on the screen.

“That’s not a standard file,” she says.

“How do you know that?” Cerce asks.

“I make it a point to know a little bit of everything,” Rhoda replies. “A habit I picked up from my late son.”

“What kind of file is it?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t know if it’s related to the battery, but it’s really weird,” Rhoda says. “That icon is a sigil or rune. Not like those antisemitic new age rip offs, either.”

“What? You’re shitting me. You understand that?”

“No and no,” Rhoda admits. “I just know what it looks like and what it’s not.”

Cerce narrows her eyes and studies Rhoda. “It sounds like you know something most people don’t.”

“That’s probably true.”

I’m back to thinking maybe Rhoda is a witch.

I see movement behind Cerce in the corner of my eye and look to catch Chapman approaching us glumly.

Is it lunch time already?

Sie is wearing an R2D2 themed skater dress and moon boots, with a purse the same color as hir hair. Sie must spend all of hir disposable income on outfits, but I honestly can’t fault hir for doing so.

Chapman notices Rhoda poking at my new hand-me-down tablet and stops and purses hir lips. Then decides it’s important to stay the course and approach us.

Cerce and Rhoda notice where my attention is paid, and look themselves.

“Hey, Chapman,” Cerce says.

“Cerce,” Chapman says in their maple syrup croon. “Rhoda. Hey, Meg. I’ve come to apologize, but now I see I may need to explain even more.”

“What do you mean?” Rhoda asks. But I see she’s not tensing up. She’s just curious. Not even confused.

“That file you're thinking of opening is something I added to the tablet myself,” Chapman says. “I knew Meg would need it.”

“How?” Cerce blinks.

“I’m a bit of an artist,” Chapman replies. Sie doesn’t elaborate and just stands there waiting for the next question.

“Can you explain that?” Cerce asks.

Chapman looks around to see if anyone else is in earshot, then wanders around the table to go get another chair to bring over and sit down. 

Rhoda scoots over to make room.

Then Chapman leans forward, elbows on the table, hands clenched, and looks at each of us conspiratorially. And then waits for us to lean forward.

When we’ve tightened the circle of ears, sie says, “Dragons aren’t the only ones to have awaked recently.” Then sie leans back and again falls silent, seemingly content with having said that little.

I tilt my head to the side.

Rhoda sighs, looks over, and says, “You’re going to have to elaborate, I think.”

“I’m sorry,” Chapman says. “I’ve sworn to secrecy. But the vow is very specifically worded. So, I’m waffling. Do I violate the spirit of the vow by upholding only the letter of it? Or do I keep my mouth shut? In any case, I slipped up with Meghan, and I ‘m sorry for doing that.”

I reach across the table to bring the tablet over to me, and hit home and then the AAC app.

“I felt thing,” I say. “I felt a switch.”

It’s Chapman’s turn to tilt hir head.

“Is magic?” I ask.

“Wait,” Rhoda says, holding a hand tilted toward me to beg my patience, while looking at Chapman. “It’s only been since the 24th. How did you all organize so quickly you have a vow?”

Chapman bites hir lip, then says, “The dragons didn’t come first, or simultaneously. This all begins earlier than that. But also, not everyone took the vow. Not all learned about it. And I just thought it was a good idea.”

I angrily knuckle my tablet, “Did you make happen? Did you do change?”

“No,” Chapman says. “As far as I know, now one knows what triggered it. Only that we’re all out, now.”

I remember my 3.5 edition D&D, and decide to ask outright, “Are you warlock?”

“What? No. I’m also not saying, otherwise I’d break the vow of secrecy,” Chapman scowls. “I basically already have, though. Please don’t ask more questions like that.”

I look at Rhoda and then ask, “Are you witch?” Just to be fair.

She falls back in her chair cackling and shaking her head, “Heaven’s no! Though, I guess I admire the idea of being a wise woman.”

I look at Cerce and she just giggles.

“Are you student?” I ask.

It’s her turn to break out laughing, snorting and putting a hand to her nose, but she nods and says, “Yes! Yes, I am.”

I feel like this is the first time in my life I’ve actually cracked a joke. And it’s a subtle, deadpan joke. My way of talking is really made for deadpan delivery. It’s about all I can do, and it makes me feel sly. I love it.

I know I’ve made people laugh before, but I can’t remember if I’ve done it deliberately or not. I’ve always felt like my purposeful attempts all fell flat before.

Everyone seems to be enjoying the moment, too.

Then I feel that shift again, and Chapman, who’s been snickering too, sobers up and turns Rhoda.

“I’ll take the Council meeting you miss, tonight,” sie says. “I don’t think we can do anything there to alter the Path tonight, but we can at least remain as informed as possible.”

Rhoda nods, and no one comments.

After a moment, I insist on clarification, “What ‘Path’?”

Chapman looks at me, “History.”

Of course. “Yes,” I say.

“What can the rest of us do?” Cerce asks, sounding uncertain that she’s included.

Rhoda puts a hand on her arm and says, “You can come to one of the Council meetings too. Or, since the two of us have that covered, be yourself. You’re doing good already just being friends with the likes of us. There’ll be more work to come. I promise.”

“Do you think we should get my bosses in on this?”

“I believe Nathan is working on that angle,” Rhoda replies. “But definitely. Since the shop is the seat of Meghan’s territory, this concerns them intimately.”

“OK, I’ll back Nate up. But I think they’re already on our side, anyway. The bosses love Meg,” Cerce concludes.

Rhoda just nods.

Cerce squints at Chapman for a bit, then says, “I’m sorry. I’m going to ask you a leading question, but I really want to know. Can you teach me your art?”

“If you took the vow, I think I could try,” Chapman says. “But I don’t think it’d work. It would be unprecedented.”

Cerce sighs and nods.

Chapman folds hir arms and looks down at the table. “OK. Everyone. I’m going to phrase this in a very specific way. Please take it at face value and do not read into it.”

Sie looks around at each of us through hir magenta pompadour.

We each nod.

Sie nods, then suggests, “Let’s all pretend that I’m Gandalf.” Then sie points at me, and says, “You! I was not expecting you to be able to notice things. That’s new to everyone. Though, I don’t think any dragon has been this close to someone like me, yet. It’s only been a week. Less for most.”

I tilt my head.

“That’s all you’re getting today. Just think about it and put it to good use, Meg.”

I bow my head, “Yes.”

I have the weirdly new to me experience of realizing my social connections are falling into place and making themselves clear. And they’re doing so in a way that is at once both reassuring and helpful, but also a bit of a disappointment?

Chapman’s all business now, and Rhoda’s deeper into her business, gripping it with both hands and wearing it like a shawl. And both of them in dedication to me, for some reason. Maybe on Rhoda’s part because we’re friends and neighbors. On Chapman’s part, though, it seems to be pure business, not just autistic interest, but wrapped up in whatever sie has vowed to keep secret. And all of hir signals, signs of excitement, smugness, were probably just the thrill of opportunity falling into place.

But, at least, sie sounds like sie is on my side.

I’m more heartbroken about this than I expected, and I’m kind of confused by that.

What are dragon relationships with humans supposed to be like, anyway?

I wonder what those infant dragons will grow up to be like, being treated as dragons right from the beginning. Are they being raised by other dragons, or humans? Or, are they more autonomous than human babies, and basically self sufficient little monsters with no socialization yet?

I take a moment to visualize maybe having a dragon whelp or four or eight or whatever of my own.

I’d love to lay an egg someday, if my body can do that. But raising even one child? I’m not sure.

Huh.

Would I even have to raise them? Or just protect them for a while? I like the sound of that latter option.

Double huh.

I’m starting to wish that there was an online forum for dragons, so I back out of the AAC program and fire up a browser and do a search while the others are talking about something.

And what I get is a little overwhelming for the moment I’m in currently. But, at a first, cursory glance, I’m not seeing anything labeled, “by dragons, for dragons.” And some of the stuff I am seeing makes me want to close the browser fast.

Between “r/dragon_fuckers”, “r/dragon_masters”, and “r/dragonslayers”, I’m done.

But before I go back to the conversion in front of me, I can’t stop myself from knuckling open the search query question, “Will my dragon fuck me if I ask?”

The answer provokes a series of knocking noises to burst from my syrinx.

It reads, “If you are in the Northern hemisphere, it’s not mating season. If you are in the Southern hemisphere, maybe. The recommendation is, don’t try it.”

“What was that about?” Cerce asks.

“No,” I say. Then I push the tablet over to her so that she can read it.

Her laughter is gratifying.

Chapman looks and chuckles. And Rhoda just shakes her head.

But she looks at me thoughtfully afterward.

She does not elucidate and I have no idea what she might be thinking. But it hardly matters to me at the moment. I’m too amused to care. And then we’re interrupted.

We hear Kimberly say, “Uh, oh.”

And when we all look, we see her standing just outside the door of the shop, arms akimbo, and staring Eastward up the street.

I vaguely hear some people calling things out from up that way, and look, along with the others.

If I had hackles, they’d rise. If I had a dewlap, it’d be inflated.

Instead, my chin starts jerking up of its own accord, and my wings need to be stretched, even though I don’t have the room to do that where I’m sitting.

I see the shadow before they come into my view, but I knew what they were before that and I’m not sure how.

There are eight small pointy heads, with frilled jaws, on thin long necks, all doing that Ray Harryhausen dance as they pull themselves forward on two limbs like a walrus with a thick tail long enough to strangle an elephant.

When I say pointy heads, I mean they look just like baby crocodile heads, but with the frills.

I know the name I gave them before they make a single sound.

It’s Poink.

“Meghan,” Rhoda says, an edge of warning in her voice.

But I’m blocked in by her chair and the table behind me, and I find myself trying to climb the side of the building, despite that big red iron awning being right above me. Also, the fact that there’s a huge picture window right there doesn’t help. Not many clawholds.

I twist to my left, through the air, all the way around, to land with my foreclaws in the middle of the table, and hiss. Which I haven’t done yet. That’s interesting.

“Hey, everyone,” Chapman says. “Let’s all back off and let Meg handle this. Don’t get in the way.”

Thank you.

I manage to wait for my people to clear out and get behind me, and for Kimblerly to glance our way and then retreat into the doorway of the shop, before I move further. Then I scramble right over the table, upending it, without thinking much about my tablet.

Poink is moving pretty slow, and seems to be hurt, and is looking around warily. A couple of their heads have spotted me and are tracking my movements.

When I make it to the corner of the sidewalk, I stop.

My territory extends further than that, and Poink is already in it, but I find that my conscious curiosity about what they’re planning on doing manages to override my urge to press an attack.

Something about their movements and postures does not seem challenging, and they haven’t called out yet.

I can now see that there are big gashes on Poinks shoulders, made by three talons with every stroke. They look bigger than I could make. They’re not really bleeding now, but they must be painful.

Part of me thinks I could crush and eat them easily. And the rest of me is repulsed by that idea. And that inner conflict has me frozen as well.

I wait until they come to the edge of their sidewalk, kitty corner to me in the intersection, and then I say, “Stop.” I can’t make it sound urgent or stern, but I make it as loud as I can.

Their heads all do this fluid pulling back thing, one after another, that would make an animator fall over in delight. A hydra’s version of a taken aback.

I hear a single, quiet, “Poink.” And then they bow, lowering their shoulders and then their heads.

All the cars that have been coming up the streets have stopped, including a city bus. They all know better than to get between us at this point. And ideally, we want a demonstration of draconic diplomacy instead of a fight.

But at that “Poink”, I cannot stop myself from charging!

Bound! Bound! Jump, glide, skid, flap, flap, “GggrrrrrrrrrRREEEYAWK! NOKNOKNOKNOK!!!”

[gltzgghln]

hello. I've been filling my assigned sketchbook with bright shadows development!

First pic is me playing around with the design of an earlier character named Kulakesa (previously "Kulagrester"), a Hancock's flatworm alien from kulupu telo who is married to a mayor. Because most of the people on Chonar have wings as their middle pair of limbs, I came up with a design of Kulakesa having big winglike fins for swimming. His flappy carpet body made the final cut however

the beaked critter swimming above is something i originally designed when i was in high school called a seagle. like sea eagle. not very original but they're marine snails filling the niches of different birds. not every snail in kulupu telo fills a bird niche however

flora and fungus in kulupu telo are taken up by different types of algae and sessile fauna. caulerpa-like grasses, oomycete toadstools, bryozoa bushes, and grape vine-shaped kelp. a weed resembling the mermaid's wineglass was cultivated and bred to be used as Actual wineglasses. the toadstools are safe to eat and frequently foraged for!

a new idea i had for kulupu telo at one point was like. Giant diatom biomes. like super shiny glossy beaches full of huge algal forests covered in glass. the sand and big diatoms are harvested for food, plankton, and glass

third picture is of some kulupu telo civilians building a house, alongside roughs of how tall buildings would look in kulupu telo. my original idea for an underwater world on chonar was for the buildings to be these tall pillars on top of each other that you could just swim through. I think I was inspired by... southside reef from shark tale. kulupu telo is now on the back of a continent-sized sea monster, so i switched it to amorphous houses made of mucus, sand, algae, bones, shells, etc all tightly packed so they can withstand the currents of the sea and little movements of soweli ma (the sea monster they live on top of)

not every house on kulupu telo contains these exact materials, and sometimes the use of these materials depends on cultural significance of the building. kulupu telo architecture is still wip wip wip wip wip

sessile invertebrates fill the niche of trees. the "fruit" on the worm trees are its eggs. They're based on earthworm egg cocoons and feel/taste like silkworm pupae. sometimes they're cracked open for the stuff inside like a bird egg and sometimes the whole thing is cooked like a legume. sea lily and anemone-like organisms act like BIIIGGG flowers that get both energy from food and the sun! i imagine if the big sea lilies were all in a field they would sometimes get up n migrate to spots where there r more critters to eat. ppl who want these as houseplants simply put them on a rock near a window and the lily and/or anemone can take in light and act as pest control

[highwaywhump]

Surgery, part 1

This is a series! Masterlist here.

another panic attack? you bet. also hurr durr i’m not a medical professional. 

this was originally 3.6k so i cut it on half. watch out for the other part

CW/TW: text not proofread. doctors, talk of surgery, struggling pet/dehumanized whumpee. not much honestly, next part is worse

--

The orthopedic surgeon works at a private medical center on the southside, too small to be a hospital but too big for a clinic. They’d been there one time already, to get x-rays, so the parking lot felt familiar to Aaron as the car rolled in.

“You okay?” he asks, looking over at Joey in the passenger seat. 

Joey just nods, a stunted, staccato movement. His hands are tightly wound in his lap, partially disguised by the sweater he’s wearing. He’s good at hiding his feelings, but Aaron can tell. He’s not okay. 

“I understand that it can be scary, Joey,” Aaron says softly, even though he doesn’t really understand. Can’t understand. The regulations for medical care at the WRU training facilities aren’t exactly open to the public, not to mention the sketchy care he’d been given by his previous owner - if he’d been given any at all. 

Joey had been shaking like a leaf during the entirety of the previous visit, so much so that Aaron had been given one of those heavy aprons and had sat with him, holding his hand, while the x-ray technicians had set up the machine and taken the pictures. He hadn’t said a word during the whole visit, not for the car ride home either. When they entered the house he’d asked to be excused (which Aaron obliged to, of course) and he’d moved up the stairs with unusual velocity and been in his room for the rest of the day. Aaron took it to mean he wanted to be alone, so he had come up with a tray of dinner, lightly knocked and left it outside the door for him. 

He pretended not to hear the stifled sobs behind the door as he went downstairs again. 

“I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think it would help you. You’ll walk normally again in a few weeks, and your collarbone will stop hurting.” 

Joey nods again, not looking Aaron in the eye. Not that he did much of that anyways, but today he seems extra careful to keep his gaze on his hands. 

“Look,” Aaron starts, turning towards him. He offers up hand, laying it to rest on the center console. “If it becomes too much in there, you just tell me and we’ll go home. Come back another day.”

Joey turns his head, carefully testing the waters as he movs his gaze up, first looking at Aaron’s open hand and then onwards, upwards, meeting his eyes. His look is unwavering, but wide and clearly terrified. 

“I’ll be a good boy,” he whispers, and puts his own hand in Aaron’s open one, as if to stress the sentiment.

Aaron smiles, if only to hide the slight melancholy that blooms in his chest. 

Of course you’ll be a good boy, he thinks halfheartedly. It seems like a survival technique, to retreat into that pet-mentality which admittedly was supposed to keep him safe. Pets had guidelines to follow, and were promised an easy go of it if they just adhered to them. 

“But remember, you can’t call me Sir in there, okay? Just Aaron. Or nothing at all.” He adds the last part when he saw how Joey’s jaw tightened. He nodded again. Aaron squeezed his hand. 

They had been offered a late appointment. Sunday night, which meant no other scheduled surgeries and probably no emergencies that needed attention. Dr. Perez had assured Aaron over the phone that she only trusted a select few of her nurses with patients such as Joey - who evidently wasn’t the first ex-pet she’d treated. They’d get a private room at the end of a hallway, which meant no reason whatsoever for anybody who didn’t belong there to come in. 

The x-ray appointment, which had been an in-and-out in 30 minutes kind of situation, had been the same; outside normal office hours and with only two or three nurses who knew exactly what they were dealing with. They had an in-house accountant to handle the payment. It still meant insurance fraud, but it wasn’t Aaron’s fraud, and that made him feel marginally less worried about it all. 

Aaron had carefully proposed the idea of a surgery on the last day of Joey’s sickness. They were both on the couch, Joey in Aaron’s arms with a thick blanket wrapped around himself. He hadn’t slept properly for days, except for short and fitful bouts here and there whenever the fever finally let him rest well. Aaron wasn’t much better off, worrying so much for his ward he’d probably developed gray hairs from it.

“Dr. Simmons gave me the contact info of a surgeon who could take a look at your leg. And your collarbone. Do you think you’d be up for that?”

Maybe it was unfair to ask him while he was so tired and out of it. Aaron knew he’d go along with any mere suggestion he’d come with - that was the nature of his training. But the bloodshot eyes that looked up at him from the bundle of blankets in his lap, told another story. Pain and fear, sure - but also relief, for the first time in days. Joey nodded, too tired to say anything. Tired from the pain, the fever, and probably from having to hobble along when walking, and from a throbbing clavicle that kept him from using his arm for anything other than scratching his nose.

Aaron had accepted the answer with a reassuring hand in his hair. He’d held the little one close, kept him warm and safe, and lulled him gently to sleep with a few fingers rubbing soothing circles on his temple. 

But that was then and this was now. Gone was all the relief and the warm safety. Joey was stiff as Aaron helped him out of the car. Yes, they’d been here once before - but that time Joey had only been laying on his back on a table for a bit and then they’d gone home again. 

Aaron supposed he could understand. Today, they’d cut into him. 

–

Dr. Perez has a great bedside manner. She speaks directly to Joey in a tone without any condescension or disdain, Aaron notes, as she points to different parts of the x-ray picture on the screen of her tablet, explaining the procedure.

“What I’ll do is that I’ll make a tiny cut here, and then put the bone back together so that the angle is right, and put in a couple of screws to make sure it stays. And in six to eight weeks, you’ll be walking like it’d never been broken at all. Sounds good?” 

Joey is timid and still almost petrified with fear, but he manages a slight stiff nod, a dip of his head, up and down. “Yes, doctor,” he whispers. His eyes even flit up to meet hers for a fraction of a second. 

“You will be asleep during the whole procedure. You won’t feel anything at all. Okay? You’ll get all the pain medication you need after, as well. We will make this as comfortable for you as possible.” She leans forward and reaches out a hand. Joey stares at it, and for a few long seconds Aaron thinks he won’t do anything. But then he carefully unwinds his own hand from where it is gripping his other wrist, and gingerly places it in Dr. Perez’. 

“Do you believe me when I say that, Joey?” she asks, and he nods again. 

She smiles warmly at him, and it’s a true smile that shows off the crow’s feet around her eyes. She really means what she says next. “It’s important to me that you feel safe here, Joey. I want to help you. That’s why Aaron brought you here.” Aaron nods, even though Joey can’t see it, with the way he so stubbornly studies the toes of his winter boots, neatly placed by the edge of the hospital bed. He’s seated on it, already dressed in a patient gown, his bony shoulders protruding more than ever. His feet hang off the edge, slightly swinging.

Not for the first time, Aaron is struck by how young and fragile he looks.

“Okay,” Dr. Perez says as she checks her watch. “Becca will come by in a bit to prepare you. She’ll give you some medicine you need before we give you the anesthesia. In an hour, I’ll come get you and we’ll operate.” She guides Joey’s hand back into his lap and lets go. “You will be all good, Joey. I promise.” 

Aaron has seen enough medical dramas to know that doctors can never promise anything, lest they’ll be sued. Dr. Perez means it. 

Then again, they’re operating outside the law tonight. This surgery is officially not being performed, especially not on a person that officially doesn’t exist anymore. 

Dr. Perez meets his gaze on the way out. Her brown eyes are genuine and solemn, an expression born of many years of soothing worried patients. They manage to calm even his pulse a little, even though he is not the one being cut open. She closes the door as she exits, leaving him and Joey alone. 

“You doing okay?” he asks as he rounds the bed and sits down on the chair next to it, facing Joey. He takes the glass of water from the bedside table and offers it to Joey, who plucks it out of his hands and drinks - judging from the look on his face as he swallows, not because he’s thirsty. Just because Aaron asked him to. 

“Yes, Sir,” he whispers weakly, and squeezes his eyes shut as he catches his mistake. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just… try not to, when there are other people.” Even with all the precautions that have been taken, Aaron still can’t be entirely sure. They can’t risk any uninitiated understanding the full extent of their relationship. It’s better if they see him as a concerned friend or brother or uncle, not as… well. As Joey’s owner. He has seen the occasional headline of a pet who has been caught in situations they’re not allowed to be in by law. Usually, the punishment is a hefty fine. Sometimes it’s prison and forced removal. 

Aaron has naturally read up on the legislation. If caught, tonight’s activities would result in the latter. 

“Hey,” he mutters and reaches out, brushing Joey’s dark locks out of his face and behind his ears. 

He seems to have a conflicted relationship to touch. Only a few short weeks ago, Aaron moving his hand towards his head would have resulted in Joey in a hysteria of apologies and groveling, afraid of being hit. But at the same time, he’d always chase after it when Aaron would remove his hand. All the hugs they’d shared in the time they’d had together had built a tiny pillar of trust, and now he leans into the palm of Aaron’s hand, turning his face towards it. For a moment he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath - as deep as he can, with how taut his muscles are wound.

“You’re going to be alright, Joey,” Aaron says and allows himself to lightly scratch him behind one ear. 

He knows he shouldn’t. He knows it probably reinforces all the boundaries he’s working to break, and he knows all sorts of different thoughts will awaken in Joey’s head. But right now, maybe there could be an exception. Just to make him feel a little bit safer, given the circumstances.

And he does. Joey nearly melts into his hand, his eyebrows turning up. He bites his lip and Aaron can nearly see the stress running off his shoulders. He counts to three in his head, thinking he’ll retract his hand when he gets there, but changes his mind and counts to five, and then to ten. If Joey had been on his feet, his knees would have buckled.

At last, he lighty pulls back. Joey blinks his eyes open as he straightens his back, sitting back up. 

“I think I saw a vending machine down the hall. Think you’ll be okay alone for a few minutes?” 

Joey looks up at him, looking marginally less worried now. “Yes,” he says, his voice meek. Aaron isn’t sure if he agrees because he thinks he will, or if it’s to appease him. Nevertheless, he smiles at him as he moves towards the door. 

“Okay. I’ll pick something up for you. Salted caramel, right?” 

Joey nods quickly. Aaron thinks he can even see a slight upturn of the corner of his mouth. 

–

The vending machine turns out to be on the floor below, of course, and it jams, of course, and several more minutes than Aaron would have liked have gone by before he finally reaches the hallway where Joey’s room is. Only… the door is open. 

It hadn’t been when he left. He’d closed it, he’s certain. 

A nurse rushes past him and dashes into the room before he can react. Something’s wrong, he figures. 

Terribly wrong, judging from Joey’s frantic voice inside, begging for mercy.

--

Tags <3

@simplygrimly @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @briars7 @hackles-up @doveotions @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @kixngiggles @firewheeesky @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpthisway @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumping-snail @pumpkin-spice-whump @pigeonwhumps

[humanrightsconnected]

Today marks 3 years since George Floyd's murder. His death sparked demonstrations around the world and was the largest racial justice protests in the United States since the civil rights movement.

As we honor his life and legacy, discover from Advancement Project, Baltimore Action Legal Team (BALT), BlackOUT Collective, BYP100 (Black Youth Project 100), Dream Defenders (DD), Know Your Rights Camp (KYRC), Live Free, Organizing Black, Race Forward, and Southsiders Organized for Unity and Liberation (SOUL) how you can continue the fight for racial justice! 

📸 by Faith Eselé on Unsplash

[thelensofyashunews]

LUCKI shares "Heavy On My Heart" video from new 'GEMINI!' LP

After receiving heavyweight co-signs from both Drake and Lil Baby, Chicago underground legend LUCKI has just shared the video for "Heavy On My Heart" from his new album GEMINI!— out now. The project boasts features from A-listers Future, Lil Yachty, Veeze, Rylo Rodriguez, and 42 Dugg, as well as production from sonic tastemakers Tay Keith, Wheezy, Southside, and Bobby Raps. GEMINI! arrives on the heels of the announcement that LUCKI's first US headlining tour, The Gemini Tour, will kick off on July 18th in Raleigh, NC. Produced by Live Nation, the 27-date tour will make stops in Miami, Los Angeles, Phoenix, Las Vegas, Boston, Brooklyn, and more before wrapping up on September 7th in Atlanta, GA. The recently-released 2-pack of singles titled 2 Faced, Pt. 2 (the Coupe-produced "Heavy On My Heart" and the Brent Rambo-produced "Courtesy Of") offered the first glimpse into LUCKI's follow-up to 2023's s*x m*ney dr*gs, with the former serving as an upbeat outing buoyed by LUCKI's candid bars over a soulful instrumental while the latter is a hard-hitting victory lap draped in his distinct raspy flow. A longtime staple of Chicago’s underground scene, LUCKI’s hazy cloud rap confessionals saw the then-teenager grow a cult following in the Windy City and beyond before garnering mainstream recognition with his 2022 debut album FLAWLESS LIKE ME (which had appearances from Future and Babyface Ray) and hit track “New Drank”(200M+ Streams). GEMINI! marks LUCKI’s first full-length outing since the aforementioned s*x m*ney dr*gs and arrives on the heels of a high-profile appearance on “Broke phone” (7M+ Streams) from Veeze's 2023 album Ganger as well as a strong run of 2024 singles, including “PAIDNFULL”, “COLORFUL DRUGS”, and most recently “All Love”, where he linked with Lyrical Lemonade for a Cole Bennett-directed music video, as well as a guest outing on Southside’s latest track “Elegant”.

LUCKI’s fourth full-length album GEMINI! marks the entry point into what will be a busy summer for the Chicago artist. After performing at last weekend’s Lyrical Lemonade Summer Smash, he's currently slated to make an appearance at Rolling Loud before embarking on his nationwide headlining Gemini Tour — with a fall European tour also on the horizon. An artist as multifaceted as his star sign, LUCKI has grown from an underground Chicago mainstay into a critically-acclaimed international icon, using hazy cloud rap confessionals to pave the way for the sound of modern Hip-Hop. With his GEMINI! era officially in motion, LUCKI is continuing to assert his legacy while proving just how far his movement has carried over the past decade.

[tedhead]

who are some of your favorite collaborators of bruce springsteen?

lou reed - street hassle, 1978 (performed) he performs a spoken word piece lou wrote in act three. um imo this is darkness era bruce nd lou consummating a musical soul bond but his part is pretty incidental inside the masterpiece of a song lou wrote.

southside johnny and the asbury jukes - the fever, 1981 [recorded in 1973 by bruce] the live performances of this with bruce and johnny are great and so is the southside johnny and the asbury jukes' album version.

donna summer - protection, 1982 (wrote/performed) bruce liked her voice nd thought the anti-disco movement sucked so he wrote cover me for her, but landau told him to keep it so he gave her protection instead. it was originally going to be a duet but he’s still on backing vocals and guitar on the album.

warren zevon - jeannie needs a shooter, 1980 (co-wrote) the ‘77 injunction meant he couldn’t record in a studio but he needed to eat basically so landau told zevon about the title of a song bruce had on the shelf and eventually they sat down and wrote it together.

ray davies - better things, 2010 (performed) ray released this on his tribute album see my friends. i like it bc they sound like they're having fun and it’s a good song. the little clip of them on youtube is really cute :)

clarence clemons and the red bank rockers - savin’ up, 1983 (wrote/performed) j.t. bowen singing, bruce on guitar, clarence on sax obv. its a really catchy tune i think he performed it live recently.

emmylou harris - tragedy, 2000 (performed) bruce and patti are on backing vocals <333

fun fact he was at the record plant finishing darkness on the edge of town when the dictators were recording faster and louder off their bloodbrothers album and bruce has a small cameo at the end of the song. he has a lot of uncredited performances like that, graham parker in ‘79 is another example, basically if he was in the building and you asked him he said yes.

[anotherwvba]

WVBA Fighter Profile: Skye Ivy

Ring Name: Skye Ivy

Nickname: “Chi-Town Tough”

Ranking: Minor Circuit Unranked

Record: Pro Debut

Hometown: Chicago, Illinois

Real Name: Kinsley Skye

Age: 17

Height / Weight: 5’5” / 118 lbs

Hair / Eyes: Blonde / Blue

Attire: sky blue sports bra with four red six pointed stars, like the Chicago flag; sky blue trunks with white trim; red gloves

Theme: “Sirius” by The Alan Parsons Project

Biography:

At the tender age of 5, Kinsley found sports and fell in love. Her first loves were dance and gymnastics. Throughout school, Kinsley found drama and the arts. While she was an adequate student, she found a home in the performing arts. Encouraged by her middle-class parents, Kinsley pursued drama and dance with gusto and, later in middle school and high school, took her gymnastics skills and joined the cheerleading squad.

Last year, she and a group of her cheerleading friends went to a WVBA live event in Chicago. That night, she saw Little Mac knockout Don Flamenco to win the Major Circuit Championship and Super Macho Man beat Great Tiger to retain the World Circuit Title. She was captivated by the spectacle, the athleticism, all of it. And then, the announcement came… the ring announcer let the live crowd know that the WVBA would be adding a women’s circuit the next year.

The next day, Kinsley started looking for a gym and a coach. She wanted to be part of this. On the southside of Chicago, she found a coach willing to take a look at her, despite a complete lack of combat sports training or experience. Vanessa Maxwell, a retired 40-year old prizefighter ran Kinsley through her paces. Her natural athleticism was impressive, but her work ethic was what stood out. When Kinsley confided in Coach Maxwell her goal, to be part of the WVBA’s Women’s Circuit, Vanessa at first laughed, but then saw how serious her student was. Seeing a part of herself in Kinsley, she agreed on the condition that Kinsley stay in school and finish her education. Kinsley readily accepted.

Her coach warned her, boxing is a hard sport. She’ll get hurt. She’ll lose, more than she wins at first. But with hard work and determination, Coach Maxwell believes Kinsley can make it. Taking the name Skye Ivy, Skye being her last name and the ivy for the historic fences at Wrigley Field, is out to prove that there’s no barrier you can’t overcome if you are willing to put in the work. There’s tough… then there’s Chi-Town Tough.

Boxing Style: “The Chi-Town Acrobat”

Skye is a novice boxer. Most of her opponents will have her at a disadvantage when it comes to pure boxing knowledge. To counter this, Coach Maxwell and Skye have developed a fighting style that plays to Skye’s dance and gymnastics background. Her footwork, while unconventional by boxing standards, is exceptional. She stays light and bouncy on her feet and uses her movement to create strange angles and land punches her opponents never see coming. Strength and direct attacks are not her strong suit.

The core of her style relies on using her agility to create “momentum traps” where she lures an opponent into a set pattern of movement, then suddenly and dramatically changes her rhythm to catch them off guard. Her speed and agility make her hard to pin down and her cardio is quite good thanks to her dance and cheer experience.

If she does get hurt or cornered, she may panic because of her inexperience. That same inexperience can lead her to make rookie mistakes. She also lacks one-punch knockout power, favoring speed and agility because of her background. Despite these weaknesses, with her style crafted to her strengths, her remarkable work ethic, and her indomitable spirit, Skye may just have quite the future ahead of her in the WVBA.

Power Punch: “Windy City Whirlwind”

a quick right hook into pirouette, leading to a left spinning back-fist, and finished with another right hook with all the momentum of her spin behind it