#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]

Giving Kafka Head

♡ NSFW, fem reader, oral->male receiving, face fucking, cum swallowing, mention of oral->fem receiving ♡

note: supposed to be doing a request right now, but the Kafka brainrot is too real so yeah lol

note 2: Sza was right when she said "I need a big boy" 😮‍💨

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

It's quite obvious that Kafka gives the best head of any of your previous partners, especially when he's in his Kaiju form and uses his long tongue to explore every inch of your cunt. And he wouldn't hesitate to say that you give amazing head, he'd go as far as to say it's the best feeling he's ever felt in his life. The way your soft lips wrap around his girthy tip, tongue teasing it as you devour him whole. He's practically in heaven when he's in your mouth, and he's very vocal about it.

"F-fuck baby, just like that...your tongue feels so good, so fucking warm. Relax that pretty little throat for me, can you do that?"

His large hands cupped your face gently as he pushed further into your throat, slowly fucking your face. You had been at for less than an hour, yet you were an absolute mess. There were tear stains on your cheeks and a mix of drool and precum running down your chin from his fat dick stretching your mouth out. But you were determined to please him, speeding up your head bobs to match his thrusts and inadvertently gagging on his cock.

"Fuck, baby don't gag...just relax f'me and take it slow alright? Don't want you choking."

Despite his concern, he couldn't deny how sexy you looked, all needy and gagging on him. It made his dick twitch in the worst way and it didn't go unnoticed by you. He gripped your hair tightly as he felt you continue your fast movements, pulling your head slightly so he could look into your half-lidded, lust-filled eyes. You just looked so beautiful, so perfect for him. Who was he to deny what you were doing?

To deny the pleasure that you wanted to give him, the pleasure that only you could give him. He grunted softly, placing his rough hand on the back of your head and pushing your head as far down on his cock as possible, relishing in the way you gagged on him. His dick throbbed and twitched in your mouth as he came, shooting his warm load down your inviting throat and smirking when he felt you swallow.

He pulled out of your mouth, patting your head as you coughed and wiped your face with the back of your hand. His hand moved to your face, caressing it softly before tilting your chin up so he could look at you.

"You did so damn good f'me baby,"

His thumb swiped across your bottom lip, before slipping in your mouth and rubbing your soft, wet tongue.

"Think you can handle a little more?"

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

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

[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 chapter contains smut

MASTERLIST

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Chapter 3

“God, you look amazing from here!” Lip exclaimed as she was over his lap, moving up and down in his cock, her hands on his shoulder to have a better leverage, her hair to a side and her eyes closed. From her mouth were exiting such sounds that she was almost ashamed of herself.

“Fuck, you feel fantastic!” Lip said as he helped her with her movements, his hands on her hips guiding her to meet his thrust perfectly.

“Fuck!” She moaned as he took one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking and licking on it, “Lip, God!” Desna cried moving on of her hands to hold against the metal of the van. They were going so hard at it that she was sure that from outside people could have seen the veichle moving.

“Shit, fuck,” Desna cursed, “I think I’m there, Lip, fuck! I’m almost there!” She liked that she could make noises, she felt him respond to her moans with deep thrust, he liked to listen to the sound she made.

“Wait for me, shit…” he cursed pushing her on her back, so that he could ram into her as he pleased. He brought her legs higher, reaching a deeper spot that made her course again. His hips where moving so fast that she could not take her whimpers inside anymore.

“Fuck, Lip I can’t” she moaned touching her own breasts to relieve some pleasure.

“God you want to kill me,” he groan before he layed on her, careful not to crush he, but in a position where he could give short and strong thrusts.

“Shit, I love this!” Desna said, her hands gripping his back as his hips kept hitting inside of her her perfectly.

“Me too” he whispered in her hear, “Fuck this is amazing, shit.”

“Lip,” she moaned moving one of her hands so that she could make the boy look at her, “Kiss me, please,” she almost begged and he did as she asked without complaining. His pace was becoming more erratic and they moaned in each other mouth, louder and louder until Desna’s vision blanked as she hit her climax and soon she felt his hot liquid inside her walls. She tried to control her laboured breath as he rode out his high until he came to a stop.

“Oh shit!” He exclaimed with a chuckle as he moved to kiss her neck, still not pulling out, “Fuck that was fucking hot.”

Desna giggled as he kept kissing her, enjoying those sensations she was feeling. Her hand in his hair, inviting him to keep going.

“Mm, this is so nice,” she moaned as he started to suck at her neck.

“I know, I can’t help it today,” he said caressing her breast, moving his fingers on one of her nipples. She moaned again.

“You’re getting hard again,” she said with closed eyes and a chuckle.

“Are you complaining?” He asked moving his hips, making both of them let out a groan of pleasure.

“Shit, no” she said as he looked at her with a smirk. Her fingers on the back of his head made him lean forward so that they could kiss again. Her body adjusted, making him go even deeper,

“Fuck…” she moaned, and he chuckled again.

“Ah I didn’t tell you my idea,” he said getting back at kissing her neck.

“Sorry I stopped listening when I decided to get on top” Desna apologized.

“I stopped talking when you got on top,” that made her laugh, as he started again to give slow thrust, “I’ve talked to Ian,” he said as Desna closed her eyes.

“That good,” she answered, with closed eyes.

“And he agreed on my idea,” he kept talking, as his hips picked up the pace.

“Shit this is distracting,” she admitted as he moved.

“The idea…” he started panting, “Is to get Karen to give Ian a blowjob.”

“What a fucking idea- fuck, Lip” he had just hit a good spot in the worst timing.

“And he agreed,” he moaned, his hips snapped against hers, “Fuck, Lip!” She cried.

“And I want you to come with us,” at his words she opened her eyes in disbelief.

“Are you fucking insane- shit, fuck” she tried to complain, but he got himself into a position where his hips moved at a crazy speed.

“Wait, wait,” he said as he focused on his thrusts “God this feels fucking amazing!”

“Shit, Lip!” Desna was a moaning mess, feeling her orgasm approaching once again, “Fuck, I’m so close, Lip, so fucking close,” she cried opening her legs a bit more so that he could sink in deeper.

“Shit…” he coursed, as she started to plead him.

“Lip, don’t stop!” He thrusted making her moan again and again, “Fuck right there,” his hips moved, “Right there!” another thrust.

“You are so beautiful, fuck!” He said getting back against her so to change the angle and speed of his thrusts.

“Fuck, Lip!” She cried as she climaxed again, soon followed by him, who emptied himself inside of her, before rolling to her side.

“Shit, I love this,” he said trying to control his breaths. They stood like that for a moment as they both came down from their high. Desna was slowly trying to get the control of her body back, before turning to Lip that had a hand over his forehead and a smirk on his lips.

“I’m not coming watching fucking Karen Jackson give Ian a blowjob,” she protested making him scoff, “It would be gross and awkward.”

“You won’t see anything, I promise,” he said turning to her, a hand moving to her waist so to make her body face him, “She will be under the table, you won’t see anything!”

“This is the most disgusting thing you’ve ever said, I swear” she said, even if she didn’t fight the movement that he was making her do.

“Please, you have to come,” he said almost pleading.

“Why?” She asked. But her question made him look away, even if is finger still caressed the skin of her hips.

“I need you to see that Karen is not a threat,” his words took her by surprise, but she let him time to find the right words to keep going, “What we have, I like it” he said, “but yesterday, with all the jealousy… I need you to know that I… care…” she smiled.

“Because she is doing it and not me?” At her question his eyes shot up.

“I would have never ask you to… you know…” she moved closer so their bodies were pressed against of each other.

“You want me to see that you’re not jealous of her doing that?” She asked looking him in the eyes. He observed her for a moment before kissing her lips again. His hand went to the back of her head to not make her move away, and she couldn’t help but to smile against his lips. So he was not jealous of Karen, but he didn’t want Desna to do it.

“Does Ian know? About your plan?” She asked, “Because I will accept only if he agrees,” Desna wanted to do this for Lip, but not if it grossed Ian out.

“I told him that we’ve talked about this situation,” he explained, “And he said that he can do it.”

“This will be so strange Lip, truly,” she admitted.

“Is it a yes?” He asked, rubbing his nose against hers.

“Alright,” she said before he pecked her lips, “But it’s disgusting!” Lip giggled before pulling her in for another kiss.

The day at school went well, it was not that fast since nor Lip or Ian had come to school. But anyways she would receive Lip’s messages none the same.

“That Steve guy came back this morning…” Lip’s message said.

Fiona, V and Desna had met Steve Wilton the night before, when a guy stole Fiona’s purse and Steve tried to help. He failed miserably, but at least he tired. And then he punched the guy at the entrance because he didn’t let them back in. So since he got cut by glasses Fiona brought him home, where V cured his injouries. The four of them where talking when the Gallgher’s siblings all gather down. As he saw her Lip went next to Desna asking her if everything was fine.

“Yeah, it’s alright,” she had said with a smile as he set next to her. Just before Debbie ran to sit on her legs.

“Come here, love” Desna said as she adjusted the little girl to sit more comfortable.

And then they had started to talk about theirselves, Veronica’s job, the Gallaghers’ names and then even Kev arrived. After that Desna, Kev and V had gotten back home, but for what Lip had texted her, that guy seemed to have had sex with Fiona, before Tony brought their father Frank Gallagher home. Ass drunk like always.

“Round two?” Desna texted back at Lip.

“Gross! That’s my sister” he complained, making her shook her head, “But probably”

“Said the guy who wants me there when his brother is going to get sucked off” she dialed and sent.

“Yeah, same guy” he said too overly confident, “Same guy that fucked you this morning”

She blushed lowering her phone, afraid that someone could see.

“I’m at school you prick!!” she texted.

“Sexting” his message said, “We still hadn’t try it, what are you wearing?”

“The outfit you’ll see at Karen’s” she dialed back, “At what time there?”

“Around 4 pm” he said, “Maybe I’ll see what you are wearing in my room after.”

“I’ve got class, perv” she said before putting her phone away. But for some reason she could not take away the stupid smile she had on her face.

4 pm arrived even too soon, as she walked her way towards the Jacksons’ house. On a couple of occasions Desna had even thought about getting back, she felt so gross in doing what they were about to do.

“Here she is,” she heard Lip say as he waved her hand, to get her attention.

“Hey,” she said mostly towards Ian, who seemed really nervous.

“Hi, Des” the boy tried to give her a smile.

“Okay, let’s go” Lip said again overly too confident.

“Do you think it is a good idea?” She asked as they walked.

“Absolutely!” Lip exclaimed but she glared at him.

“Yes I can see that,” Desna said, “But I was talking to Ian.”

“He thinks it’s great!” Lip exclaimed, still trying to convince himself that Ian wasn’t gay.

“I’m very nervous,” Ian admitted, making Desna looking at Lip with an ‘I told you so’ kinda look. But Lip put his arms around Ian as they walked.

“Relax, okay?” But Ian shook his head “No, no you’re gonna like it,” he was trying to reassure him.

“Yeah, if he was into girls,” Desna muttered gaining a look from Lip, not quite sure of what she had just mumbled.

“What am I even going to say?” Asked Ian nervously, but Lip seemed to have the answer.

“Just keep talking about science.”

Desna frowned, what the hell was he saying?

“I don’t know anything about science” Ian complained, but Lip had a solution even for that.

“Okay, then just read the Table elements,” looking towards Desna that was looking at him with a face that was screaming ‘Dude, what the fuck’.

They made it to the front door of the white wooden house and Desna could not feel more out of place. She was about to watch one of her best friends getting a blowjob, from the other girl who the guy she was fucking daily fucked in that bitch house.

“Fuck this is going to end bad,” she muttered as Lip knocked.

“This is going to be just fine,” he said putting his hand on the small of her back to guide her forward.

“What are you trying to prove?” She whispered to him.

“You know” Lip answered.

“I know you’re crazy” then the sound of the door open made them turn. Just that the door was not open, was only ajar and the figure of a woman went closer to look who had just knocked at her door.

“Miss Jackson,” Lip said politely with a smile. A smile that the woman did as well.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, “Karen is thrilled with you she got an A on her physics midterm!”

“Such a great student,” Desna said before she could stop herself, but the sarcasm in her voice was not grasped by the woman, who smiled at her.

“She is, isn’t she?” She smiled again before turning to call for Karen to say that her little helper was there.

“Polite,” Lip whispered with a forced smile.

“I’m always polite,” Desna answered, meeting his eyes, “In fact, I’m politely restraining myself from punch you in the face.” He didn’t have time to answer because the woman turned back at them, still not opening the door.

“This is my brother Ian” Lip said to the woman before turning towards Desna, “And this is my… my…”

“I’m Desna Hills, Miss Jackson,” she said trying to smile as natural as she could.

The woman smiled again, before looking at their feet “I’m out of plastic bags,” she said, “Why don’t you leave your shoes out here where they can breathe.”

Ian and Desna shared a look as Lip nodded his head.

The woman opened the door as they took off their shoes and let them in. It was a room with white and flower patterned fornitures. Very different from how Kev and V decided to arrange their house. They seemed ready to film a sextape, while these people seemed ready to go to church.

“Hello, guys!” Karen appeared. Short, blond hair already tight in a low ponytail and a fake innocent look in the eyes. Her mother seemed a sweet person, even if one of the strangest people Desna have ever meet, and she was sure that the woman knew nothing about the reputation of her daughter in school.

“Darla, right?” Karen said pointing at her, whose lips got thiner in a forced smile.

“Name’s Desna,” she said trying to keep her cool as much as possible.

Karen laughed, “Oh right, I always forget it.”

As he could sense Desna thought of killing the girl, Lip touched again her back as he spoke to Karen.

“Should we start with…” he moved his head to Ian.

“Of course,” Karen said, that fake smile was part of her being by now.

“This is not a good idea,” Desna muttered, stopping Lip by the arm, as Karen and Ian move towards the table.

“It’s alright” he said looking at her, who shook her head.

“I don’t even know why I agreed to this thing!” She complained as Lip guided her towards the table, where he moved the chair from next him so that she could sit there, opening her notebook, pretending to study.

Lip started to explain some random things of science and physics as they observed Sheila going into the kitchen where she was cooking something.

“So are we going to do it together?” Karen asked Lip, giving a glance to Desna, whose head shot up, as well as Ian’s.

“No!” Desna and Ian said together, as Lip tried to tell them to keep their voice down.

“No, Des is here just so that the group thing made sense,” Lip explained in low voice making sure that Sheila didn’t hear him.

“Oh, since I know you two are fucking, I assumed…” Karen was saying, that fake innocent tone was sending Desna out of her mind.

“Yeah, I’m fucking, Lip,” she said, “Only him, not every living soul.”

“Oh,” Karen said glaring at her, “Doris, I thought you as someone more polite.”

“Desna!” She whisper yelled, before Lip started calling her name.

“Des,” he finally made her look at his direction, “Stop, alright?” He then turned to Karen, “Come on,” he said gesturing her to take care of Ian.

“Alright,” she said, giving another glare in Desna’s direction, before starting to get under the table.

“I have to go take something upstairs,” she said so that her mother could hear, but she then disappeared.

“Ian,” said Lip, “Maybe you should repeat the Table elements,” his poor brother nervously opened the book and started reading. Just then Desna let go of her pen in frustration, but soon she felt Lip pulling her chair so that she could be closer to him.

“We said no jealousy,” he whispered to her, searching for her eyes.

“I’m going for no killing,” Desna answered, making sure that Sheila was still cooking, “I can’t stand her Lip, she is so rude,” she complained.

“You don’t have to stand her,” he said shaking his head, “But you don’t have to be jealous,” Desna smiled at him, putting a hand on his thigh, and she was surprised when he took her hand in one of his, as he turned to pretend to read his notes. Then she noticed poor Ian telling the elements out loud, and she really tried her best to focus her attention somewhere else, she didn’t even want to turn.

That poor boy, what if he was not confused at all. Could that be considered some kind of violence? Was she a witness? Was she an accomplice?

If that was the case, she liked Lip, but she had told him many times that was a stupid idea. She didn’t want any part in it.

“You kids want some homemade lime chicken chimichangas?” Sheila’s voice came from behind her and she observed Lip as nonchalancly declined as if Karen was not giving a blowjob to Ian.

“I think you’re twisted, sometime,” she whispered from next to him, who chuckled.

“Does it make you more or less into me?” He asked still looking down at his notes, but Desna’s eyes went wide.

“I’m not into you,” she said as if she has been found guilty of some crime. At that he chuckled again.

“You’re not?” He said with his smartass face as he turned to look to her, slightly leaning forward, “My bad.”

He then turned away, and she found herself at short of words. What did he mean by that?

“Why you…” but before she could say anything, a man, a big man, much bigger than Lip and Ian went down from the stairs. Karen Jackson’s fucking father was in the house. Desna felt like she was about to passed out.

“Hey fellas,” he said as he noticed the three of them, frowning, “Where’s Karen?”

Lip of course was ready to answer that she went to search where Isaac Newton was born, and the fact that the man believed him gave a great picture of Karen Jackson, that was still working on Ian. Desna could not believe it. She turned to Lip, that observed Ian before turning to her with a smirk.

“Get that smirk out of your face,” she said keeping her voice so low that she could barely hear herself.

“Come on, this is funny,” he said and Desna’s eyes widen once again.

“Try to do it next time!” She dared him, who leaned closer with an amused look.

“We could do it next time,” he suggested making her look at him in disbelief.

“I’m not going down on you, with your family around,” she protested, but his smirk got larger.

“Maybe I am going to go down on you, with my family around,” that made her blush, instantly feeling a rush of blood in her veins. Suddenly though out of nowhere an apple fell from the counter, rolling down in the living room, and for some reason they all freezed.

“All right, I’m late,” the man shout, “Karen, honey, I guess I’ll see you in the morning,” then he bent down to grab the apple, but in the process of doing so, he noticed his daughter under the table.

“What is she hiding for?” He asked looking at the three of them, and Desna felt all of her limbs go rigid. Especially when he lifted the tablecloth up.

“Sweet Jesus!” The man exclaimed in disbelief, as his eyes went from Karen to the boys.

They were dead.

It happened all so fast, the man shouted and the three of them jumped up to flee the house. Lip pushed Desna towards Ian, as he ran the other way. The man got crazy, he overturned the table, before running after Lip that was trying to leave the room from the front door.

“Lip!” Desna exclaimed as she saw, Lip running up the stairs with Karen’s father close behind.

“Let’s go, Des!” Ian said grabbing her by the arm, before bringing her outside from the back door.

“Jesus Christ, he is going to kill him!” Desna screamed as they ran in the backyard.

“Run, don’t stop!” Ian exclaimed as they kept going towards the road. As they arrive at the front of the house, they heard a loud noise and as she looked she saw Lip, trying to get up from the ground.

“Did you fucking jump!?” She exclaimed as Ian ran to take their shoes and then they all ran away still hearing Mr. Jackson’s shouts from behind them.

What a fucking day!

[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