#to soldier there is no gender... only Americans

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

You know what, I think it would be extremely funny if the tf2 mercs sometimes just casually called each other 'girl' the way gossipy teenage besties would. Especially mid conversation for no reason like:

"Girl, for the last time stop antagonizing the enemy Sniper during cease fire, this is the fifth time I've had to pull an arrow out of you and it's only 10am"

Do you- do you see what I'm trying to say, do you understand my vision rn

[bonkybuchananbarnes]

The Campaign 

Congressman!Bucky Barnes x personal assistant/PR!manager Reader

Synopsis: Hired as Barnes’ personal assistant and PR!manager, he was constantly pushing your buttons when it came to maintaining his public image and managing his day-to-day routines. But as much as he stresses you out, you find yourself falling head over heels over your boss.

Content warnings: fluffy and crack, small angst, swearing, mentions of smoke and drinking, a little steamy but not smutty, no use of y/n, you are so tired of his bs but he loves you, pining, boss x employee relationship, friends to lovers situation

a/n: this might be my favourite piece I have written for Bucky. I also tried to keep it gender-neutral. I also apologize if I get stuff wrong about how voting and congress works, I am not American lol. also i did not proof read this sorry!

word count: 5k (whew)

It was only 7:30 am and you could use a glass of Bourbon and a cigarette. 

You ought to just go radio silent one of these days. Clearly, you were not paid enough to be James Buchanan Barnes’ glorified babysitter. Everyday, there was something new going on with the former Winter Soldier and today was the worst one yet. An early morning call from Sam Wilson always meant bad news, but whatever he had to say gave you a raging migraine and it hasn’t reached 9 am yet.

‘You’re kidding me. What got released to the public?’ you screeched over the phone.

This is how you found yourself marching into your boss’s apartment with a bedhead you barely cared to fix, and a poorly done business causal outfit, with a hefty pile of files bound together with several manila binders under your arm. 

‘James, you open this door right now!’ you hollered, accompanying your anger with an booming knock on his door. 

An exasperated sigh was heard through the thin walls. You were soon met with a tired Bucky Barnes who was wearing nothing but grey sweatpants. ‘Y’know, it’s really unprofessional to address your boss by their first name.’

Shoving the mental image of his delectable half-naked figure in the back of your head, you shoved the man out of the way and stomped into his kitchen island. You were too mad to ogle your boss that you unfortunately found very attractive.

‘You got a Scotch? I could really use a glass right now.’ you murmured, grabbing the nearest glass and scattering the files onto his marbled counter.

Bucky checked his watch on his wrist. ‘The fuck do you need a glass of Scotch for? Sweetheart, it’s only 7:50am!’

You resorted to a cold glass of milk, since there was no liquor to be found. ‘Look at the files I dropped and you tell me, James.’ 

The super soldier shuffled his way toward the pile of paperwork. As he quickly scanned around, a growing smirk grew on his lips. Noticing this, you groaned, rubbing your fingers over the deepening crease on your brows.

‘Do you know what I woke up with, James? I woke up with Captain America panicking over the phone because someone decided to leak the information I worked so hard to bury!’ you fumed. Swirling your glass of milk like it was hard liquor, you gulped it down, trying to calm your steaming head.

Bucky’s vibranium, fingers grazed over the paper and picked it up. It read ‘POTENTIAL CONGRESSMAN JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES RESPONSIBLE FOR THE ASSASSINATION OF JFK?’

He inquisitive tilted his head in confusion. ‘I thought everyone knew this?’

A nice smooth roll of tobacco sounded so good right now. 

‘Are you KIDDING me?! What part of ‘I worked so hard to bury the information’ don’t you understand?!’ you bellowed, startling the man in front of you. Slapping both of your palms on the marbled counter, Bucky could see you heaving and seething from anger.

A quiet sigh escaped his lips. He carefully made his way towards your side and wrapped you with a side hug. His fleshed fingers slowly rubbed your arms up and down in an attempt to soothe your anger. ‘Alright, alright. I guess I slipped up that one interview where I jokingly said ‘the president better watch his back.’ Someone probably took that to heart and found out that I might’ve assassinated JFK.’

You turned your head and squinted. ‘You need to learn how to keep your mouth shut.’

‘Maybe you can shut it for me, sweetheart.’ Bucky teased.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, fighting the growing blush on your cheeks. It was safe to say that your relationship with Bucky has gone past strictly business professional. The two of you grew close for the past year, and you felt that there was something more. But, for the sake of the job nature and your sanity, you couldn’t act upon it.

A gentle smack on his chest caused him to let go of you. ‘Alright you smooth talker. That might've worked during the 40s, but you’re asking to get smacked by women if you say that.’ 

‘But Sam taught me that last week.’ Bucky shrugged.

‘That’s it. I don’t care if he’s Captain America, I’m limiting his visitation hours with you, Mr. Barnes.’ you scoffed. Grabbing the glass that was sitting on the counter, you reached for the milk carton to pour another.

The super soldier gave you a knowing look. ‘Honestly? I’ll be glad if you did. He talks too much sometimes.’

A grin donned your features as you downed another glass of milk. ‘Didn’t expect you to agree to that. Go get dressed Barnes, I called for another press conference at 10am and you better explain yourself.’

‘Yes ma’am.’ he saluted. As he made his way to his room, he paused, and looked back at you. Pursing your lips in anticipation, you expected him to throw a snarky comment at you. And that’s exactly what he did.

‘Y’know, this information coming to the public isn’t that bad. I heard the Gen Z were into that kind of thing.’ Bucky teasingly quipped.

He was met with a flying salt shaker to his head.

✪✪✪

Your ‘Days Bucky doesn’t tarnish his public image’ counter reset to 0 two days later.

A few hours ago, Bucky appeared at a charity gala that was hosted by Stark Industries. It surprised you, knowing the history between his time as the Winter Soldier and him being responsible for the murder of Howard and Maria Stark. Alas, you learned a long time ago that politics was a messy, dirty game, and you were just a personal assistant to yet another political candidate.

Yet, Bucky wasn’t just another politician you assisted, he was basically a dashing 110-year-old dashing man who always found himself leaving a mess wherever he went.

And tonight was one of those nights. It was going so well during the gala, all he had to do was sit pretty and make mindless talk with the other important figures. You knew that he didn’t want to go in the first place, so you made a deal with him; if he went and did not make a commotion, you would treat him to your favourite Shawarma spot in New York. He complied, and was doing so well.

Until you found yourself catering to his wounds back in his apartment.

The super soldier grunted in pain as your fingers pressed antibiotics into his open scratch on his forehead. 

‘Hey, are you trying to hurt me more?’ he whined.

Paying no mind to his complaint, you continued to apply more, digging into the wound even further.

‘Jesus, sweetheart! At this point you’re hurting me more than trying to patch my wounds!’ Bucky moaned, wincing as you finally put a gauze on the wounded area. 

‘Yeah right.’ you finally shot back. ‘You have super soldier serum running through your veins Barnes. You’re a big boy, you can deal with it.’

Looking away from the man, you rummaged through the first aid kit on lap as you searched for more gauze. As your eyes raised up to face him again, Bucky gave you an apologetic stare, like a whimpering puppy.

‘Save it James.’ you huffed, continuing to patch the wound on his flesh arm. ‘You broke your promise, so you’re not getting Shawarma with me tonight.’

‘Aww, come on! I really didn’t mean to!’ he pouted. James Buchanan Barnes. Pouting at his personal assistant. If only the world could see that.

‘Oh really?’ your voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘You didn’t mean to uppercut John Walker in the face in a public event?’

‘Listen sweetheart, he started it!’

‘I find that hard to believe Barnes.’

Bucky pleaded to you with his sky blue eyes. ‘You have to believe me. There’s a reason why I did it.’

A sarcastic laugh escaped your lungs. ‘Do you really live to annoy and stress me out all the time James?’ You bit the medical tape, ripping a piece and placing it on top of the gauze that was placed on his arm.

Silence filled Bucky’s living room before he finally confessed. ‘I didn’t like the way he spoke about you.’

Your eyes widened with his revelation, and halted your actions. It was suddenly hard to breathe.

Dropping your hands to your sides, you stared at the super soldier in disbelief. ‘What?’ 

Bucky pursed his lips before he continued. ‘I know, I know. He was taunting me. Walker came to me wanting to make small talk and I guess he was getting cocky and started to talk smack about you. Degrading you and your abilities. Called you names, diminished your accomplishments. I couldn’t stand there and let him do that to you sweetheart.’

It was like Bucky squeezed your heart with his mechanical arm. Blood started to rush towards your ears, with your neck heating up. Your boss cared enough to defend you, even when you were absent.

His eyes gazed down to your hands as he took it with his fleshed ones. ‘I know it seems that I make your life a hundred times harder. Always cleaning up my messes, always making sure that I can win my campaign. It’s the least I can do for you while you do so much for me.’

You continued to stare at him. His confession knocked your breath away. All this time he genuinely cared for you.

He looked up once more and gazed upon your eyes. ‘I’ll fix this myself sweetheart. Go get rest tonight.’

He quietly searched your eyes for some sort of answer, while you continued to sit in silence.

After what seemed an eternity, he was met with your answer.

‘Bucky, you absolute idiot.’ you whispered, with tears pricking your eyes. ‘Thank you. You’re a good friend.’

The word friend stung his heart, but it was for the best. Wanting to pursue a relationship beyond friendship would be selfish on his part. He always wanted to, since he harboured a little crush on you ever since you first entered his life. But Bucky knew, he should know, that he can’t have everything in life. It would be too selfish. After all, he didn’t deserve it.

‘Yeah.’ he croaked. ‘So, am I off the hook now? Can we get some shawarma?’

A shaky sigh escaped your lips. Resuming your task to patch him up, a small smile adorned your lips as you shook your head.

‘After this, change to something casual. By the way, you’re paying.’ you jested.

A low chuckle escaped Bucky’s lungs, and you laughed with him in response. Although you wished for something more, you were content with the way things were right now.

✪✪✪

Tonight was the big day. It was election day. The results of your hard work will determine if it was enough for Bucky to be elected as a congressman. After today, you could finally rest easy, and possibly continue working for him as an assistant to a congressman. After all, you found yourself attached to him after a year of working with him. 

However, as soon as you walked into his apartment, you wished that you worked for someone else.

‘Alright Barnes, are you ready to go? The car is waiting-’ your voice faded as your eyes landed on the frazzled super soldier.

His medium cut hair was a mess, with strands sticking up in every direction. His navy blue blazer was scattered on the floor. The white long sleeve dress shirt he wore was unbuttoned, unironed and stained with red sauce. However, the white wife beater he wore underneath was miraculously unstained. The notebook, which had the speech you wrote, was lying on the counter, smothered with pizza sauce. Most of all, his other arm was missing.

Bucky froze midway from biting a pizza slice as you barged in. His wide eyes stared at you in shock, with the pizza bending down and dripping onto his white garment. He looked down with his mouth hanging open once he realized that he messed up his outfit of the night.

Your feet felt like they were stuck on the ground as you stared at your boss incredulously.

‘James Buchanan Barnes, are you shitting me?! The election gala is in one hour!’ you scolded him. 

Slamming the front door shut, you angrily sauntered into the kitchen area, picking up his fallen blazer and draping it on your arm.

‘Hey sweetheart.’ Bucky said casually, continuing to munch on his pizza as he glazed over the notebook once more. You look stunning.’

‘Sweet talk isn’t going to get me less angry Barnes! I literally got that dress shirt last week, and you stained it!’ you fumed, walking to his side and grabbing the shirt by the collar, forcing him to shed it off of his body, leaving him with just his navy blue dress pants and wife beater. ‘Please don’t tell me this isn’t the only dress shirt you have!’

‘Well, can I wear my black one?’ he innocently asked, gobbling up the last piece into his mouth. Bucky looked at your form, and stepped back as he saw you vibrating with anger.

It was your turn to stare at Bucky Barnes. This man was supposed to be all ready to go for his campaign night. Instead, you were looking at the feared ex-assassin stuffing his cheeks like a chipmunk in his apartment complex. If it wasn’t for the given circumstance, you would’ve laughed and snuck a photo of him.

You let out a loud groan in response, and dialed for a cleaner to expedite an urgent laundry order. Once you finished with the call, Bucky made his way towards you, and stuck out the notebook you made for him.

‘This speech is too long.’ he declared.

‘You had a week to learn it James. Not my fault you were procrastinating.’ Tilting your body to the side, you eyed the area where his vibranium arm should be. ‘Also, where is your arm?’

Bucky nervously pursed his lips shut as your eyes squinted at him. Thinking about where he could’ve placed it, your eyes wandered to the dishwasher behind, seeing it was running a cycle. Putting two and two together in your head, your eyes slowly glanced back at the man in front of you.

‘James-’

‘Listen sweetheart’ he started. His fleshed hand nervously rubbed against the back of his neck.

‘James Buchanan Barnes, did you put your fucking Wakandan-made vibranium arm in your dishwasher?!’ you sputtered in disbelief. 

‘Hear me out! I couldn’t put it in the washing machine, it would tumble around and break it! The dishwasher cleans it very well!’

‘So you casually put Wakandan tech that’s probably millions of dollars in a machine that’s meant for washing dishes?’ A growing headache was creeping up. Good thing you brought Tylenol.

‘I got it for free.’ he mumbled. 

Scoffing in disbelief, you raised your arms in frustration and stomped towards the front door. ‘Whatever! It feels like I’m arguing with a child. You’re a grown man for Pete’s sake!’

‘Technically, I’m 110 years old-’

‘Right. You’re the perfect age to be running for congress.’ you snarked back. It was Bucky's turn to stare at you incredulously. 

The man huffed with exhaustion. You had enough, you were going to leave him be and wait for him in the car. But before you could turn the doorknob, he spoke up. ‘Sweetheart, listen! I’m nervous as hell for tonight. Everything that I worked for, everything you worked for is happening right now, and I don’t want to fuck this up.’ 

Upon hearing his confession, your hand paused midway from grabbing the knob. A deep sigh left your lips while you looked down, before facing him once more. The worried expression in his beautiful bright blue eyes was enough for you to cave in.

Sighing once more, you gently smiled at him. ‘Oh, Bucky. What would you do without me?’ you breathed, walking towards him.

A breathy chuckle came out of his lips as you made your way in front of him. Gently fingers combed his greasy hair, and he glanced down at you, looking at you with unspoken endearment. ‘Not much, I’m afraid. You’re basically the glue holding me together.’

A mischievous glint shone in your irises. ‘I hope you’re not referring to me as your mother figure James.’

Bucky raised his eyebrows. Lowering his head towards your ear, he lightly blew air, causing you to shiver. ‘Oh sweetheart, you’re much much much more than a caretaker for me.’

His words caused a squeezing sensation in your abdomen. Refusing to fall for his lacy words as you had to keep a professional boundary between the two of you (which was blurring by the second), your palms gently pushed him off.

You had to draw the line between you and your boss. ‘Save your sultry words for the event tonight Barnes. Pretty sure there’s some beautiful women who’s willing to throw themselves at you.’ 

Bucky paused, and you saw a storm of emotions brewing in his expressive eyes before he answered. ‘I don’t need that-’ he started, before he cut you off.

‘Tick tock, Barnes! We have to get going here, you’re lucky that the laundromat is willing to do an express order for you!’ you blurted out, trying to extinguish the awkward atmosphere. ‘I’ll head there right now. In the meantime, get dressed, fix your hair, and for God’s sake James, get your fucking arm out of the dishwasher.’

Bucky licked his lips and huffed out of frustration. Shoving his hand in his pocket, he obeyed your command and silently cleaned up the kitchen area. He threw a knowing look towards you, as he watched your figure promptly leave his flat. 

The super soldier made a mental note that tonight was the night he was going to finally make a move, if he won the election.

On the other side of the door, your sweaty palm clenched the fabric of your dress that was covering your chest. Too close, it was too close. You wanted to keep this job, to keep being close to your friend and crush without compromising the ethicality of it. It hurt, but with the given situation, it was the best you could do. You were content with being with him, even if you were just the personal assistant-pr manager-and glorified babysitter of Bucky Barnes.

Shaking your head out of your thoughts, you slapped both your cheeks together, then made your way towards the elevator at the end of the hall.

You deserved a smooth glass of Bourbon tonight.

✪✪✪

He won.

He actually won. A little part of you didn’t believe it, but Bucky won a seat at the congress. The former Winter Soldier who probably assassinated a dozen American politicians and presidents, was now a politician himself. Now that you thought about it, it was ironic, but nevertheless the way American politics worked.

You were also sure that Gen Z voters were solely responsible for his win. After all, no one could resist a handsome and buff super soldier running for congress. It was like offering the best piece of candy to a child.

But now that your task was complete, you weren’t sure whether you would continue your job as his personal assistant and PR manager. With all things considered, you were the perfect person for the job. You knew his routine and schedule with the back of his hand. Sure, there were moments that caused you to rip your hair out from stress, but in the end, you genuinely enjoyed being by Bucky’s side.

With your cheek on your palm as it rested on the window of the car, you zoned out as your eyes followed the streetlights. You were so deep in thought that you failed to notice that Bucky was grazing his real hand over yours, which was resting on the leather seat. He glanced at you, with eyes wavering with concern.

‘You alright sweetheart?’ Bucky murmured, gently caressing your hand.

‘Hn? Yeah, just tired.’ you answered listlessly, still not noticing his touch.

The rest of the car ride back to his apartment complex was silent. Once the two of you made it inside, Bucky carefully closed the front door shut as you shrugged off your coat and plopped yourself on his couch. You stretched your neck back and looked up to the ceiling and sighed with exhaustion.

The super soldier let out a chuckle at this sight of you. He had never seen you this exhausted, and honestly found it cute.

‘Long day?’ he quipped, sitting beside you.

You felt the couch dip to your left. ‘Tell me about it.’ you sighed.

Blinking your eyes open, you turned your head to face your boss. Gazing softly into his eyes, you smiled. ‘Congratulation on your win Bucky. You deserved it.’

Bucky’s eyes crinkled with a smile. ‘It was all thanks to you sweetheart. Couldn’t have done it without you.’

The two of you laughed, then sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other's company.

You looked down at your lap and nervously rubbed your fingers. Pursing your lips, you gained the courage to let him know that you wanted to continue your work as his assistant. 

While you were lost in your head trying to figure out the words, Bucky was in his own personal debate. It was either tonight or never. He had to let you know how he felt.

After a lingering silence, you spoke up first.

‘James, I want-’

‘You’re fired.’ he said bluntly. 

The words faded from your lips, slowly reeling in the words he had said. Your eyes widened in shock, with the corner of your eyes prickling with tears.

‘Fired?’ you echoed back. ‘You’re firing me?’

Your worst fear came true. He didn’t want you anymore. You trembled with anxiety, taking in the sinking feeling that you weren’t needed anymore.

Realizing that his words were coming out wrong, Bucky tried to explain himself. ‘Wait! Sweetheart let me explain-!’

Rage filled your being as the usually endearing nickname rolled off his tongue. ‘You have the balls to call me sweetheart when you’re firing me?! After all I have done for you Barnes! The sleepless nights, the anxiety I endured for your stupid campaign! You’re just going to throw me aside now that you’ve won?! I can’t believe-’ you exploded as you got up from the couch and started pacing around the living room.

Bucky growled your name in frustration, causing your rambling to stop. Walking up to you, he placed a firm hold on your shoulders as he directed you to come face to face. His pupils wavered as you bore his eyes straight into yours, with tears starting to prick in the bottom of his eyelids.

‘I’m firing you because I’m in love with you.’ Bucky quietly professed.

A tidal wave of emotions washed over you upon hearing his words. The angry expression that you wore immediately melted into confusion, mixed with hope.

‘You’re firing me because you’re in love with me?’ you slowly drawled.

An exasperated airless chuckle left his lungs. ‘I know how stupid it sounds. God, sweetheart, you make me so stupid with love.’ A gently warm hand cupped your cheek carefully.

Bucky’s eyes stared into yours with a longing expression. ‘This past year, all you’ve done is take care of me. You fixed my fuck ups. Made sure I was well rested and prepared. I would be lying if I said I would’ve gone through this gruelling campaign without you. Because my love, you held me together, even when I wanted to fall apart.’

Your lips slowly parted, with your eyes glossy with tears. ‘Bucky-’ you muttered, before he cut you off.

Bucky rested his forehead into yours as he shut his eyes. You could feel his hot breath nervously wavering as he continued his confession. ‘Sweetheart, you took care of me this whole time, even when I didn’t deserve it. Now it’s my turn to take care of you, and the only way to do that is to fire you.’

His eyes opened once more, revealing his sky blue eyes that were now glossy. When you didn’t answer him back, he heaved a heavy sigh, his pupils wavering even more as he tried to look for your answer in your eyes.. ‘Please say something.’ he begged.

Finally convinced that you weren’t daydreaming, you gave Bucky an answer.

Leaning your head close to his, your lips gently grazed over his plush ones, sweetly pressing your lips on him. He slowly returned your kiss, lips parting slightly to capture his over your bottom lip. Your hands wandered to his blazer, grabbing the collar as you brought him close to your body. His vibranium arm cradled the back of your head, inhaling deeply as you parted your own lips to kiss him once more. 

Bucky tilted his head and partially opened his lips, urging you to open your mouth as he poked his tongue through, licking your teeth in the process. A low moan escaped his throat as he messily massaged his tongue against yours.

Maybe you did deserve this after dealing with his bullshit for a year.

However, while the two of you were busy inhaling one another, his pressing weight was causing you to lose your balance. Once you realized however, it was too late. You and Bucky broke the kiss as you tumbled onto the carpeted floor, with him falling on top of you.

‘Woah!’ you yelped, expecting your head to hit the ground. Your eyes squeezed shut, expecting an impact, but was met with Bucky’s warm hand cradling the back of your head, absorbing the fall.

He may have cushioned your fall, but his body landed on yours, knocking the wind from your lung in the process. Bucky’s chest rumbled with laughter as you squeaked in discomfort. ‘You’re heavy, James.’

‘Sorry.’ he hummed amusingly. The super soldier brought himself off of you, lifting his body inches away from yours as his elbows rested on your sides.

If you told your past self that a year from now, that your boss confessed to you the night he won his election campaign, they would’ve slapped you silly, telling you that you’re delusional. But here you were, gazing into his eyes lovingly while he stroked your head endearingly. 

‘So.’ you started.

‘So.’ he mimed back.

‘Now that I’m unemployed thanks to you, you’re going to help me find a new job.’

Bucky pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek. ‘Already done and taken care of.’

Your eyebrow shot up. ‘What did you do now, James?’

A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. ‘I cashed in a favour from Sam. You’re going to be his PR manager now.’

Your face twisted into frustration. ‘Oh god. Working for him might be slightly worse than working for you.’

‘Excuse me!’ he scoffed out of offence. ‘Working with me is a pleasure!’

You sniffed in sarcasm as you pushed him off to sit up. Bucky took it as an opportunity to tackle you into the floor once more.

‘Bucky stop it!’ you shrieked as he poked his fingers to your sides.

‘Nope.’ he said, popping the ‘P’ on his tongue.

The super soldier found himself facing you once more, and peppered your face with kisses. His stubbled beard tickled you.

‘You know Bucky, there were several times where I wanted to quit working for you because you were unbearable.’ you joked as he continued to smother you.

‘Well,’ he started between kisses. ‘Now that I fired you and promoted you to my partner, you’re stuck with me. I’ll be taking care of you now.’

A bright smile appeared on your lips. Bucky took notice and mirrored the same smile as he dipped down to kiss your lips once more.

What was thought to be the most stressful night of your life ended up with you sprawled out on the floor with your ex-boss-turned boyfriend. 

Not that you could complain. For once in your life you were glad that you got fired from your job. The average working person would never say that.

But then again, your boss was far from average. He was an unbearable and incredibly sassy 110 year old super soldier turned politician who consistently pushed your buttons when it came to setting him straight for the sake of his political career.

With all things considered, it was no wonder that you fell in love with him. And you couldn't have had it any other way.

[batboyblog]

What Joe Biden has Done for LGBTQ+ People

I wanted to list out everything The Biden Administration has done for Queer people in the last 3 and a half years, but according to GLAAD it'd been 337 moves (and I noticed they missed a few things...) there was just no way to list every ground breaking first Queer person ever nominated to fill this or that job, every ally with a historic LGBT rights record nominated for a top job, every beautiful statement of support, every time he tried to get Congress to pass the Equality Act (support it!) So I've gone through and done my best to pick the ones I think were the most important, but everyone should check out the full list!

Day 1: Signs executive orders banning discrimination and ordering a full review of all federal agencies policies to better include and support LGBT people

Pete Buttigieg becomes the first openly gay person nominated and confirmed for a cabinet level post as Secretary of Transportation

Revokes Trump’s 2018 ban on transgender military personnel

Department of Housing and Urban Development implements LGBTQ protections in housing, becoming first federal agency to implement Pres. Biden’s executive order

First President to recognize and proclaim Trans Day of Visibility

Department of Justice Civil Rights Division issues an official memo that the Supreme Court's Bostock decision against LGBT workplace discrimination also applies to education through Title IX

HUD withdraws a Trump Administration proposed rule change, and reaffirms trans people's rights to seek shelters matching their gender identity

HHS announces the withdrawal of Trump Administration rules that allowed discrimination by healthcare organizations against LGBT people.

The State Department and later Homeland Security announce babies born to Queer couples overseas will be American citizens if one parent is American, in the past the child only qualified if they were genetically related to the American citizen parent.

The Justice Department files against a West Virginia law banning trans students from school athletics

Department of Veterans Affairs announces it will offer gender confirming surgery for transgender veterans. There are an estimated 134,000 transgender veterans in the U.S. and another 15,000 transgender people serving in the armed forces.

President Biden Signs a law making the Pulse Night Club a national memorial

The State Department creates an X gender marker for passports and other documents, allowing gender affirming identification for non-binary and intersex people for the first time.

The Census Bureau for the first time issues a Survey with questions about sexual orientation and gender identity

On the 10th anniversary of the repeal of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, Veterans Administration announces that soldiers discharged for homosexual conduct, gender identity or HIV status qualify for veterans' benefits

Dr. Rachel Levine becomes the first trans person confirmed by the US Senate when she was nominated to be Assistant Secretary for Health, she also became the first trans flag rank officer when she was sworn in as a 4 star Admiral for her job as head of the Public Health Service Commissioned Corps, his makes her the highest ranked trans person in government

Holds the first ever vigil in the White House for Transgender Day of Remembrance

HHS announces rule change to reinstate and expand protections against discrimination in the Affordable Care Act, including denying coverage for gender-affirming care.

Social Security Administration reverses a Trump Administration policy and allows benefits claims by surviving partners in same-sex relationships, whose partner died before marriage equality was legal

President Biden signs the reauthorization of the Violence Against Women Act (a bill he helped originally craft in the Senate) which for the first time has grant programs dedicated to expanding and developing initiatives specifically for LGBTQ survivors of domestic violence

The TSA announces new technology and policy shifts to improve the customer experience of transgender travelers who have previously been required to undergo additional screening due to alarms in sensitive areas.

The Social Security Administration allows people to edit their gender and name on records for the first time without legal and medical documentation

The US Air Force announces it'll offer medical and legal aid to any personnel families affected by state level anti-trans youth bills.

Karine Jean-Pierre becomes the first Lesbian to serve as White House Press Secretary

on 50th anniversary of Title IX The Department of Ed strengthens protections for Students against sexual harassment and discrimination

Veterans Affairs announces survivor benefits now extended to partners from relationships before marriage equality was legalized in 2015

President Biden signs the Respect for Marriage Act into law enshrining protections for marriage equality for same-sex and interracial couples

The Department of Ed announces new rules around athletic eligibility under Title IX, declaring blanket bans on trans students violate the law and setting up strike standards for schools

The White House announced a suit of new protections for LGBTQ people, including a new job at the Department of Ed to combat book bans, a joint DoJ Homeland Security effort to combat violence and threats and HHS evidence-based guidance to mental health providers for care of transgender kids

President Biden signs an Executive Order directing HHS to protect LGBTQI+ youth in the foster care system, a rule they later passed requiring Queer foster children to be placed in affirming homes

The Biden administration joins families of transgender youth in Tennessee and Kentucky in petitioning the U.S. Supreme Court to review and reverse a circuit court ruling allowing a ban on mainstream health care to be enforced

President Biden Signs a EO expanding on past EO on equality and helping underserved communities

The Department of Education's Civil Rights office opens an investigation into the death of Nex Benedict. President Biden in his statement said: "Every young person deserves to have the fundamental right and freedom to be who they are, and feel safe and supported at school and in their communities. Nex Benedict, a kid who just wanted to be accepted, should still be here with us today. Nonbinary and transgender people are some of the bravest Americans I know. But nobody should have to be brave just to be themselves. In memory of Nex, we must all recommit to our work to end discrimination and address the suicide crisis impacting too many nonbinary and transgender children.”

[uss-edsall]

Mark my words, at minimum there is going to be a four year gap in U.S. military scholarship on anything to do with any topic that isn't white men.

I am not allowed to say something that is "an immutable quality of soldiers". What this means is that I can't say if someone was of any race. So I can't say someone was black. I can't say someone was asian. I can't say if they're Japanese-American. I also can't say anything about gender. So I can't say if someone's a woman. I can't say if someone's trans. I can't talk about sexuality, so I can't say if someone's gay.

This goes further than being unable to say "she's a woman" or "he was black." It also addresses any topic including them.

I cannot say "the first woman pilot," so Lieutenant Sally D. Murphy's achievement no longer matters. I cannot say "the first African-American man to be awarded the Medal of Honor," so I can't explain the significance of Sergeant William Harvey Carney's award. I cannot reference when Don't Ask, Don't Tell was enacted, or repealed, because I can't talk about gay people. I can't mention the anti-miscegenation laws that prevented the men of the 1st Filipino Regiment from marrying white women, because I can't mention race. The only reason I can even say Filipino is because that was in the unit's name. I can't write about the racial conflicts during the Vietnam era, because again, I can't mention race.

I wanted to do an article on the U.S. Army's 'ethnic battalions' in World War II, which were five units built around men who were either descendants of immigrants, or foreign aliens who volunteered for the Army, of specific nations. Austrian, Greek, Norwegian, Japanese-American, and Filipino. First strike, it was flagged because of the word 'ethnic' in the name. Second strike, the Japanese and Filipino part. Strangely, nobody had any issue with the European nations. Third, someone With Power saw the name of it and went "get rid of that as quickly as possible we do NOT want a DOGE visit to the museum."

So. You can see where that's heading.

[grison-in-space]

On American soldiers serving during WWII:

“Sensitive” men often found one another while working on the extraordinarily popular “soldier shows” for which the USO provided the know-how and the materials. These shows were written, directed, and performed by men in the armed forces. Since there were no women in outlying camps, enlisted men would perform female roles in drag. Performances ranged from comic portrayals of burly men in dresses to realistic female impersonation. For actors and audiences, these performances were a needed relief from the stress of war. For men who identified as homosexual, these shows were a place where they could, in coded terms, express their sexual desires, be visible, and build a community. These lyrics for a “female” trio in a soldier show demonstrate how homosexual enlistees introduced their own humor into skits: Here you see three lovely "girls" With their plastic shapes and curls. Isn't it campy? Isn't it campy? We've got glamor and that's no lie; Can't you tell when we swish by? Isn't it campy? Isn't it campy?16 Later in the war, when WACs were available to perform with men, their involvement was limited; usually they worked backstage to help the men be made up as women. An indication of the popularity of female impersonation in soldier shows is evident in Irving Berlin’s This Is the Army. Written for an all-soldier cast, it premiered on Broadway in 1942 and a year later became a hit Hollywood film with Ronald Reagan. Both the Broadway and film versions featured soldiers dressed as women.

--A Queer History of the United States (2011), Michael Bronski; Chapter Eight: Sex in the Trenches

Fascists rely on a sanitized homogenized understanding of a hazily golden national history to hawk their wares to their recruits and dehumanize their enemies. Moral panics, too, rely on inaccurate popular understandings of history to promote attacks on their victims. Like every other human endeavor, these things spread themselves through stories.

WWII looms large in the American memory; we remember it as the last "innocent" conflict on our world stage, inaccurate as that is. (There is no such thing as an innocent player in a world war.) The military preoccupation with fascism and gender looms large, and WWII offers that for far-right ideologues searching for conformity, too: the masculinity of combat, the catharsis of the foxhole, the rigid conformity of the decades that follow. In the memory of such stand-up paragons of masculinity, the fascists will bellow, how can you permit the degenerate decadence of the modern drag queen, the obscenity of a trans woman being so much as permitted to exist? Surely the rejection of that masculinity would have disgusted and upset these fine soldiers, and how could you insult such icons?

But it isn't true. Drag, genderbending, and queerness were entertainments our grandfathers and great-grandfathers sought out, participated in, and shared with one another. Some of the queer ones fucked about it, and so did some of the straight ones, but not everyone. Some of the soldiers were playing, and some weren't. Either way, "female impersonation" was a staple of entertainment, both in the form of soldier-entertainers and for audiences back home. It continues to be a form of popular mainstream entertainment today, of course: only consider Mrs Doubtfire and Monty Python and RuPaul's Drag Race and Blackadder and MASH and Tyler Perry's Madea and Hairspray, to name only a few of many.

There's more than one way to knock down an image and an idol cherished by bigots, my friends. Don't forget that the stories the lazy fascists tell about how it was long ago and far away aren't the only stories left to tell. It turns out that the past wasn't any less full of degenerates and queers than the present is--or than the future will be.

[artbyblastweave]

Is there a reason Marvel comics Canada ended up being such a nightmare factory?

I think it's basically almost entirely downstream of the development of the lore surrounding Wolverine- and if something bad about Canada wasn't introduced in conjunction with Wolverine it got drawn into his orbit.

The first big Horrible Specifically Canadian Lore Element was The Wendigo, a Hulk villain native to Canada; Wolverine debuted as a third participant in the fight the second or third time Hulk got into it with Wendigo in Incredible Hulk 180, having been scrambled by the Canadian military to try and get the two of them under control, and not characterized as anything more structurally sinister than a cape who happened to answer to the Canadian government. After that, Wendigo was functionally retooled as a Wolverine villain, the kind of thing that the Canadians had kept him on retainer to deal with in the first place, and whenever it shows up it's usually in Logan's orbit, not Banner's.

So, now it's established that Canada has a super soldier. When Professor X headhunts him for the ANAD X-Men, the plot hook follow up is Canada sending Vindicator to retrieve him, so now Canada has two super soldiers and a no resignations policy. When Vindicator can't pull it off they send in all of Alpha Flight, and now Canada has a superhuman draft, a full nationalized superteam, a no-resignations policy and a willingness to operate illicitly over the border to retrieve their assets. And there's a Wendigo. (Sometimes many Wendigo.)

This becomes the pattern. Every time they flesh out a piece of Wolverine's backstory, the fact he's Canadian causes some new piece of torment-nexus worldbuilding to become Canadian. Sabretooth, originally introduced as a comparatively nondescript punching bag for Iron Fist? Is integrated into Wolverine's backstory as a longtime rival, meaning he's now either Canadian or spent a lot of time there in the past. Weapon X is eventually revealed to to be an invasive megatorture program and not the run-of-the-mill black-budget super soldier op it was initially framed as in the 1970s. And then it's revealed that Wolverine wasn't the only one they made, leading to a slew of nightmarish dark-age villains that are all textually Canada's fault, and then you get Deadpool, where the path of least resistance to explaining his involvement in Weapon X is that he's also Canadian, and you learn that they also made a gender-swapped clone of him that he eventually adopts, and then you get the retcon that "X" is a roman numeral and there have been nine more of these, successor projects to Captain America, some number of which are also Canadian. I don't remember at what point in the timeline Wolverine's immense age was first implied, but once that happens suddenly awful things need to have been happening to him in Canada for a very, very long time.

All of this was basically arbitrary. In the counterfactual timeline where Wolverine was introduced as an American asset fighting Hulk in Alaska, all of the nightmare fodder in his backstory would similarly have followed him to America, where it would fit right in alongside existing lore elements like The Sentinels, The Purifiers and Nuke. And if Thunderbird had been the meteoric breakout character instead of Wolverine, we'd instead be asking questions about why so much of the peripheral X-Men lore came to be centered specifically on the Apache nation and federal government abuses thereof, with Weapon X as a weird little underdeveloped footnote acting as listicle fodder.

[thesirencult]

Pick A Card : Soul Connection

An intuitive reading about a soul meant to find yours. In epic tales there is a literally mechanism called "recognition". The hero and his counterpart recognize eachother even after years of estrangement. Like Penelope and Odysseus. A love so deep not even multiple lifetimes can erase. A soul kindred to yours you would recognize in a sea of people.

"I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."

disclaimer : a tarot reading should never be used in place of professional counselling. Your reading cannot offer legal, medical, business, or financial advice nor does any portion of your reading herein purport to. You should not rely on a tarot reading to make any decision that would affect your legal, financial, or medical condition. If your inquiry involves the law, finance, or medicine, then you should seek the advice of a licensed or qualified legal, financial, or medical professional. Also, tarot reading cannot replace qualified mental health care. A tarot reading can only facilitate how you cope spiritually with a given situation.

PILE 1

The soul meant to find yours is a gentle one. Themes that come up here remind me of couples like Queen Victoria and Albert. I t will be love at first sight. Whatever your genders are, the "supposed" feminine will be the dominant one.

Your person will take the backseat as you run things. You may come from a wealthier background or simply seem "high value". Lady and the trump vibes.

This person will fight for those who didn't get the same opportunities to grow. They cheer for the underdog. This person will love your firey nature and how "bossy" you are. One thing you have to be careful with in this relationship is to keep things balanced as sometimes they might feel like you do not respect them or you don't spend enough time with them.

They could be an INFJ. Sympathetic, compassionate and protective. Practical and detail oriented, this is the safe place you need to come back to after your long trips towards the stars.

PILE 2

The love of your life will be able to see you. The real you. They won't overlook the greyness in your face. "You're Losing Me" by Taylor Swift is a song that can talk about your past.

No one stopped hurting you even though they knew they wouldn't be able to bring you back. They didn't care.

This person is everything that you deserve. They will help you heal. No sad songs with this one. Your happily ever after. This person is a soldier. They would die for love.

Your people pleasing tendencies won't go unnoticed with this one. They care about YOU, not what you can do about THEM.

Give them a chance when they come around. Sweet energy. Safe. Boy-Girl-They next door energy. A sweetheart with a great smile and a kind glint in their eyes. My heart feels warm writing about them. Hallmark movies ain't got nothing on them. Their love is simple and "perfect". No questions and worries. Your safe place.

Your energy reminds me of those wedding photos you see on Instagram of couples in small American towns posing with their golden retriever and smiling at each other. Don't let your past wounds f*ck this up. Sincerely, from one people pleaser to another. If you picked this pile we would have been besties in real life. Lots of love and hugs your way.

P.S. They will always choose you. You are not the first, but the ONLY choice.

PILE 3

Your whole life you have felt alone and isolated. Like life is a party you have not been invited. I wouldn't say you are a "pick me", you are far from that. You just feel like there is no one there for you to keep your hands warm. You have always longed for someone that will look behind the mirror and realize there is someone is behind it. You struggle with finding your inner voice.

The catch here is that you have the ability to choose anyone behind the mirror. You have the ability to show who you truly are. Be wild and crazy. Unstoppable. You didn't come here to do pretty and quiet. You are here to awake others and break the glass.

The person meant for you, your other half is very different from you. They are way more hedonistic and may find solace is the material realm. They will do everything to make you feel wanted and beautiful. This person will see you for who you truly are and they won't feel intimidated. Your "black cat energy" won't drive them away. They have some skeletons in the closet themselves. Disturbing and compelling, this one would make a great "50 Shades Of Grey" type of movie. lol. They could listen a lot to the Weeknd or they used to live a very "rough" lifestyle in the past. Love at first sight. Intense. You slap them and they will kiss you. They will buffle you. "Why doe sthis mfer stick around somehow?".

In all honesty, in this lifetime, your other half will be overbearing. They won't back down until they take you down with them. Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem come to mind in Jamon Jamon. This person may also come from money or have a lot of money and they want you to be their dark princess/prince. It will feel like taking a panther or feral cat and trying to domesticate it. Good try. You are still dangerous though, but they don't mind a few scratches.

[salmon-bagel]

Tf2 mercenaries x Seductress! Class! Reader

Warning: nsfw content, female reader, sexism

Scout

When Scout heard that there's a woman who's a professional at seduction, he had already started plotting.

"Hello, name is Y/n L/n, but you can call me the Seductress. It's nice to meet you."

"Heya, nice to meet cha' mommy- Oh, i mean mommy i mean mommy i mean mommy i mean mommy-"

Constantly hits on you. Scout believes that you're the type of girl that's 'easy', someone who will let anyone bang them regardless of who they are.

That boy isn't going to leave you alone until you let him into your pants.

Even when he's not busy trying to get in between your legs, Scout is asking you for advice on how to woo the ladies. Considering you're a professional at flirting with people.

You go back and forth on giving him good advice and bad advice. Sometimes you feel bad that he can't get a girlfriend. Then again, you think to yourself that no woman should be within three feet of Scout because of how much of a horny asshole he is.

After some time, you did grow to have a soft spot for him. Since he's bullied a lot by the other mercenaries. He can be kinda cute when he's not being a complete jerk.

Soldier

Soldier treats you like the other mercenaries. Ruthlessly bleating in your ear when you're doing something wrong.

"GIVE ME ONE HUNDRED SQUATS NOW! I WANT THAT AMERICAN ASS NICE AND PERKY BY THE TIME YOU'RE DONE!"

He wants the best from you. Regardless of your gender, he'll push you to the limit until he's proud enough to call you a warrior.

Soldier tests that you're a good seductress by making you flirt with him. It's an ego boost on his part, but he's genuinely trying to make sure you're hot enough for the enemy.

"YOU CALL THAT FLIRTING!? I'VE HEARD BETTER FLIRTING FROM A MONKEY! AT LEAST THEY CAN PUCKER THEIR LIPS BETTER UNLIKE YOURS!"

Buys you clothing that he believes would work well when you're seducing the enemies. It's always american themed swimwear or lingerie. You began to believe he's just buying that for himself for you to try.

Whenever the team successfully wins for the day, Soldier immediately rushes towards and smacks your ass as hard as he can.

"NOW THAT IS AN ASS I'M PROUD TO CALL AMERICAN!"

Sniper

Sniper believes your work is very unprofessional. Considering he believes you have to whore yourself out to the enemy team. Instead of using your actual skills.

He says he has nothing against prostitution or sex work in general. Sniper just thinks that stuff you do should be kept behind doors and not on the battlefield. He says it causes too much of a distraction. However, you claim that 'distraction' is the point. Sniper doesn't seem to get it.

You honestly could care less what he thinks. Snipers throws jars of piss for a living, and he really thinks he has the right to judge other people?

The truth is you're good at seducing people. Too good. That it distracts him from doing his own job. Sniper has a tendency to watch you through the scope of his gun.

The way your body gets all hot and sweaty from the terrible heat, oh it does something to him. Sniper has imagined licking your sweat off your tits while you degrade him for being such a filthy fuck.

You are his go-to jerk off material. The women in his porno magazines don't get him off like they used. The only way he can relieve himself now is by imagining your fat ass bouncing on his cock.

When he noticed a pair of your panties in the laundry basket, Sniper couldn't help himself to inhale the sweet scent of your panties before putting them back.

Sniper knows he's a damn hypocrite.

He slut shames you for what you do, only to get off to you afterwards. The post nut clarity consumes him with guilt and shame.

Sniper still hasn't built up the courage to apologize to you.

Heavy

Heavy is one of the very few people who treat you like an actual human being. He was raised by a single mother alongside three sisters. Heavy knows to treat a woman right. Less he wishes to face their fury.

Heavy doesn't understand why you seduce the enemy. You're supposed to shoot at the enemy, not bat your eyelashes and wink! However, after watching your work on the battlefield, he gets to more of an understanding.

"Oh, I see. You lie to enemy and lure them in like fish? HA! Very clever!"

Absolutely loves gunning down the enemy that is distracted by you.

Is one of the few men who genuinely falls for you for your personality. Heavy knows you're drop-dead gorgeous, but he knows that beneath all that beauty is a truly intelligent woman. You earned your place on the team by impressing Mann Co., with your skills instead of batting your eyelashes and begging to be a part of the team. You make his heart swoon like no other woman has.

He likes to write you poetry. It helps convey how he feels for you because he's too bashful to put it into simple words.

Heavy is not afraid of anything. Nothing, not even death itself. However, it took him a lot of courage and constant rehearsal to ask you out on a date.

He hopes to start a genuine relationship with you. Heavy doesn't want a one-night stand or be friends-with-benefits with you. He wants you to be his girlfriend and maybe possibly his wife later down the line.

Engineer

"Well, I'll be! Aren't you the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

Engineer is taken aback by your good looks and sauve personality. He genuinely questions why you wanted to be a mercenary. A beautiful lady like yourself is too of high risk to get hurt!

Will always be there to help you if it gets too much for you to handle.

However, he can be very overprotective over you on the battlefield. Engineer thinks it would be safer for you to stay on the rancho relaxo than getting shot at by the enemy. As much as you'd like to not do anything on the job, Mann Co. isn't paying you to be lazy. They see everything and will tell you to get off your ass and start fighting.

You have to beg Engineer that you can do it on your own. He understands your point of view and begrudgingly lets you fight with the others. Even if it means going against his code of defending and protecting a lady when she needs it.

While putting up dispensers and sentries, he can't help to admire you from afar. Engie believes that a guy like him has no chance with a girl like you. What woman would be interested in a bald man who has a robotic hand and locks himself away in his work? No gal that's who.

Engie fantasizes about working up the courage to flirt with you and ask you out, which would eventually lead to a rather sensual night spent together. He did try to ask you out once but miserably failed. Engie kept stuttering and mispronouncing words out of nervousness while attempting to seduce you. You couldn't make out what he was trying to say. Thankfully, Demo had the heart to pull Engie out of that mess of a conversation and save him from further embarrassing himself.

So now, he just admires you from afar. Dreaming that one day he'll get to win your heart.

Spy

Surprisingly, he wants to get to know you as soon as possible. It's not every day you get to meet a lovely lady.

When he learns of your class type, oh boy, this man will make you question if you're even meant to be the Seductress.

"Mademoiselle, you are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on."

"Do you know why they call Paris the city of love? Why don't I take you there and show you?"

"If the verb ‘to love’ didn’t exist, I would have invented it upon seeing you."

Spy leaves your entire face red and completely frozen after he's done talking to you. He's so flattering and charismatic. In comparison to the other men, he makes it seem like they're not trying at all. It isn't their fault, though, Spy is a natural at wooing the ladies.

You're surprised when Spy gifts you things that you really like. You never shared these intimate details with him before or with the other mercenaries. When you asked him how he knew what you specifically liked, Spy merely winks at you and grins. He has a way of receiving information without anyone knowing.

He has a tendency to kiss the back of your hand whenever you two are greeting each other. Spy is a gentleman and can't help himself to be sweet to a beautiful woman.

When Spy asks you out on a date, you agree to it because you have been meaning to go out. You felt like you'd go insane if you stayed in the base any longer. You put on your best dress and left with Spy into town.

After having a nice meal and a few glasses of wine, both of you give into temptation. Spy could hardly keep his hands off you when he drove you both back to the base. All your clothes came off the moment you reached his bedroom. You found it a little strange he refused to take off his mask. Oh, what the hell. He's hot and treated you to a nice date.

In the morning, you receive uncomfortable stares from the other mercenaries. Let's just say you and Spy weren't exactly quiet during your lovemaking. Unfortunately for the others, you decided Spy would become your fuck buddy.

Medic

He's been meaning to include a female subject in his experiments- I mean, he's glad to meet you!

You try your best to steer clear of him. However, on the front lines, it isn't so easy. When you're constantly getting shot at and stabbed by enemies, you'll need the Medic's help to get better.

When he sees you in action, Medic feels a new emotion that he's never felt before. Is this.. love? Maybe it is. Or maybe it's just lust.

Medic has never been infatuated with any woman. Except you. The way you lure in these pathetic men with your good looks and false promises, only to kill them afterwards- oh God, it makes him giddy. He feels like a schoolboy all over again!

Medic does routine check-ups on you. To make sure all your lady parts are in working order. In reality, this perverted fuck wants to have an excuse to grope you. Always gaslights you into believing he's not being a degenerate.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Why, of course! Breast cancer isn't something to take lightly!" He'd respond. You would understand, but after thirty minutes of him fondling your breasts, you knew what his true intentions were.

Medic writes you love letters and his dove, Archimedes, deliver them to you.

The letters start off relatively sweet. Medic writes that he views you as a Goddess, a truly ethereal being that is too perfect for this world filled with lesser mortals. And how he's the only man truly worthy for you.

Then, the letters take a complete turn the more you read it. He writes how he wishes to fulfill every filthy fantasy he's ever had with you. Oh boy, the list is long. For one, Medic wants to tie you down, gag you, and breed you like the filthy whore you are. Another consited of how he wants to fuck you on the battlefield while you're bleeding out and fingering your open wound as if it was your pussy.

You've stopped reading his letters and tend to light them on fire.

Demoman

"So, how much do you regularly charge for a quick shag?" He'd ask you before laughing his ass off.

Demo will never take you or your work seriously. Even if you politely ask him to.

He doesn't see what's so hard about showing off your tits and saying how much you love to suck cock. Demo believes you should've been a stripper if you wanted to tease men so desperately.

You frequently explain to him in detail how you help and provide for the team. You honestly can't tell if Demo deliberately forgets or because he gets drunk so often, he hardly pays attention to you while you talk.

Don't worry, though. After you've instilled the fear of women into him, he'll be gladly reminded that he shouldn't judge or ridicule a woman. If his mother were here, she'd knock some sense into him.

Demo apologizes to you, drinks, gets drunk, and apologies some more

"I'm sorry, lassie! It's just that I just get so lonely sometimes! What woman would give me, a one-eyed freak, a chance!"

He bawls on the floor, crying in front of you. You attempt to cheer him up by comforting him. Instead, you end up getting drunk with him.

Did you shag him in the heat of the moment? That's all up to you ;)

Pyro

Has no idea what you're doing to the enemy. Anything sexual you do is translated as innocent in their vision. Will never know what real seduction or sex.

Luckily, they think everything you do is nice and polite!

Regularly gives you grotesque gifts, which are usually human hearts and bones. You begrudgingly take the gifts because you know they mean well and don't wish to be disrespectful.

Pyro has a tendency to go through your closet when you leave your room. Or while you're sleeping. Either why, they steal your clothing and belongings. They pick out outfits and wigs they like along with makeup supplies. You wonder where you placed your dress and immediately begin searching for it. Maybe you left it in the laundry room. As soon as you exit your room, you see Pyro wearing your clothing over their suit. Fake eyelashes have been glued onto their eyes, and lipstick smeared all over the breathing hole.

You can't even be upset with Pyro. They're doing their best.

You let Pyro keep the dress they're wearing, considering it most likely wouldn't fit you anymore.

[mariacallous]

During his rambling and interminably long speech to Congress last week, Trump bragged that he had “stopped all government censorship and brought back free speech in America.”

Unfortunately, the arrest of Mahmoud Khalil, the Columbia University graduate student and pro-Palestinian activist, makes clear that devotion to free speech doesn’t include the right to protest if Trump doesn’t like it. Khalil’s green card has been revoked, and he’s currently in ICE custody.

The administration has tried to dress up Khalil’s arrest as motivated by national security concerns, but their statements about his alleged transgressions show it’s far more about suppressing speech.

Trump Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt defended the arrest by saying that Khalil had organized “group protests that not only disrupted college campus classes and harassed Jewish-American students and made them feel unsafe on their own college campus, but also distributed pro-Hamas propaganda, flyers with the logo of Hamas.” White House Counselor Alina Habba’s rationale was even more transparently bogus. She claimed on Fox that foreign students are not allowed to "hand out pamphlets in our country and try to infiltrate those terroristic thoughts ... and if you bring that into our country, you can get the hell out."

But far from being a threat to national security, Khalil’s actions are the exact sort of free speech that’s supposed to be protected.

The Supreme Court has repeatedly ruled that the right to assemble and protest is a cornerstone of the First Amendment. The Court has protected the hateful speech of the Westboro Baptist Church, holding they had a right to picket funerals of soldiers and display inflammatory signs like “Thank God for IEDs” and “Thank God for Dead Soldiers.” It struck down a Minnesota ordinance that prohibited speech that “arouses anger, alarm, or resentment in others on the basis of race, color, creed, religion, or gender.” It ruled that burning the American flag is protected speech.

Khalil’s arrest is bad on its face, but it’s also wrapped up with the administration’s fake commitment to combatting antisemitism. Indeed, Trump has trafficked in antisemitic tropes for years. The motivation behind Khalil’s arrest isn’t genuine concern for Jewish students. It’s opposition to lawful protests on campuses and elsewhere — protests Trump fears could present a challenge to his authoritarian aspirations.

Protesting is not a crime

The administration isn’t even alleging that Khalil broke any laws. In fact, an unnamed White House official told The Free Press that “the allegation here is not that he was breaking the law” but instead that he was a “threat to the foreign policy and national security interests of the United States.”

It’s not surprising that the administration is talking to The Free Press, Bari Weiss’s website that is ostensibly dedicated to free speech but applauds police cracking down on protesters. And of course Weiss has made a career out of attacking Palestinians, starting with her time in college where she agitated to get professors fired for pro-Palestinian views.

Since there’s no way to make any criminal charges stick to Khalil, the administration has resorted to citing a law that allows deportation of “an alien whose presence or activities in the United States the Secretary of State has reasonable ground to believe would have potentially serious adverse foreign policy consequences for the United States.” This allowed Marco Rubio to revoke Khalil’s green card so he could be deported.

The use of this provision is exceedingly rare. According to the New York Times, it’s been invoked exactly once, by former President Bill Clinton in 1995, when he tried to deport a former Mexican government official, Mario Ruiz Massieu. Massieu sued, leading to a lower court decision declaring the provision unconstitutional because it was impossible for someone to know if their “mere presence here would or could cause adverse foreign policy consequences when our foreign policy is unpublished, ever-changing, and often highly confidential.” The judge who penned those words is none other than Maryanne Trump Barry, Donald Trump’s sister. The case was later overturned on unrelated grounds.

Earlier this week, Rubio said that people like Khalil “don’t have a right to be in the United States to begin with” and that they would never have been let in if they had explained they supported Hamas or intended to protest. Rubio is also playing tough guy over at Elon Musk’s Nazi bar, posting that the administration “will be revoking the visas and/or green cards of Hamas supporters in America so they can be deported.”

The problem here is that no one has explained what “potentially serious adverse foreign policy consequences” are at stake here. Yes, the United States supports Israel’s war against Hamas, but alleging that protests in the United States opposing the war somehow damage national security interests is absurd. Yet the administration is framing any opposition to Israel as synonymous with active support for Hamas.

In Khalil’s case, there’s no evidence that he has even been in contact with Hamas, much less provided material support to the organization. One of his lawyers, Amy Greer, explained that communicating with Hamas would be “completely opposite” to Khalil’s values.

Khalil’s arrest has highlighted the arbitrary and cruel nature of immigration detention. He was arrested in New York, then whisked away to New Jersey, then sent to an immigration facility in Louisiana, where he remains. The government sends people from all over the country to Louisiana, which houses over 6,000 immigrants in facilities where abuse of detainees is rampant. Flinging detainees all around the county is a common tactic by ICE, and it allows the government to charge detainees in jurisdictions far away from where they live.

Khalil sued the government in the Southern District of New York, saying his arrest violated the First Amendment and his right to due process under the Fifth Amendment. He asked to be released while the case was pending and that any proceedings be heard in New York. Despite the lawsuit, Khalil was not allowed to have private conversations with his lawyers for several days. It took a court ruling to get him two private calls with his attorneys. Judge Jesse M. Furman blocked Khalil’s deportation earlier this week, but declined to release him from the Louisiana facility where he’s being held.

Khalil’s attorneys have asked that he be returned to New York for immigration proceedings. Those proceedings are separate from his lawsuit and will be heard by an immigration judge. The notice requiring Khalil to appear for an initial immigration hearing in Louisiana on March 27 contains no details whatsoever and just repeats that Khalil’s presence in the country “would have potentially serious adverse foreign policy consequences.”

As Khalil holds a green card, making him a lawful permanent resident of the United States, he’s entitled to due process before he is deported. An immigration judge, not Marco Rubio or Donald Trump or anyone else, is the only one that can take Khalil’s green card away. Typically, green card holders are deported over criminal convictions or engaging in, or threatening to engage in, violent terrorist activities like kidnapping. The government still bears the burden of showing Khalil should be deported.

They’ve got nothing

Thus far the administration has provided nothing save for vague, unsupported assertions that Khalil distributed “pro-Hamas propaganda” fliers. Leavitt told reporters she had these terrifying fliers but couldn’t possibly show them to reporters because it would harm the “dignity” of the briefing room. After throwing out that fact-free assertion, Leavitt suddenly decided she couldn’t answer any additional questions because it’s an intelligence matter.

The administration refuses to provide Khalil with any information about which of his actions threatens US foreign policy interests. The White House is also trying to undermine Khalil’s ability to defend himself. Although Khalil is a New York resident and was arrested there, the administration says his case should be heard in New Jersey, where he was for just a few brief hours, or Louisiana, where he’s currently held. Trump’s personal antipathy to the Southern District of New York court is well-known and unsurprising, given that prosecutors pursued multiple criminal cases against him there.

The administration has other reasons for trying to get the case out of New York. As Lawfare explained, the Second Circuit Court of Appeals, which covers New York, is likely a more favorable venue for Khalil than the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, which covers Louisiana. The Fifth Circuit is the most conservative appellate court in the country, with 75 percent of its judges being appointed by Republican presidents, including six appointed by Trump. Conducting proceedings in Louisiana also, as Khalil’s lawyers noted, isolates him from his home and community of support.

Khalil is the first person the administration is trying to deport over pro-Palestinian protests, but he won’t be the last.

The Department of Homeland Security has demanded that Columbia University help it identify other “pro-Hamas” students. Add to this that Rubio is already saber-rattling about going after Hamas supporters and it’s clear that this administration, far from being a bastion of free speech, is actually waging a full-fledged war on political speech it doesn’t like. It flies in the face of the protections of the First Amendment, and is intended to terrify activists into remaining quiet. There’s honestly nothing more un-American than this.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

All Funk, No Punk - Still Hobart Brown

Gold chains instead of silver spikes. Gator shoes in place of thrifted boots. And an afro bigger than Hobie's -

Spider-Funk is Hobart Brown - Earth 831

Hobie Brown maybe Artie's chiller, rougher, and louder self - but somehow, they get on like a cop car on fire (or whatever the saying is).

And Artie Brown maybe Hobie's cockier, flirtier, and flashier self - but they just tell people they're twins.

Or at the very least - they call each other 'brotha' and 'bruv' all the time.

When people ask about the accent thing - you know, Artie being American, they say 'Ever seen The Parent Trap?'

[A LONG ASS post - Below is Artie's Origins, Fighting Style, Relationship to Hobie, and how he got recruited - All About the Brown Bros! Artie & Hobie, FunkPunk!]

It's Hobie 2 - Electric Bugaloo!

And just when Miguel thought he could only stomach one of them.

Though he calls himself the older brother, being born over a decade earlier, Artie is Hobie's less mature, more materialistic, but just as kind variant.

He's a pacifist instead of an anarchist - Full of Soul instead of bursting with Rock.

And he still hates cops.

Origins:

When Artie was drafted for the Vietnam War in 1969 - the first thing he did was burn his draft card. Then he joined the Black Liberation Army.

He wasn't the only one - Artie was part of the almost half a million draftees to do so.

And then President Osborn was elected.

To fill the gap in enlistment, Osborn came up with a solution.

V.E.N.O.M - A highly toxic, unfeelingly aggressive, and wildly bloodthirsty symbiote. A solution to the protests and draft dodgers.

Engineered by Oscorp - if you didn't induct yourself as a soldier, the V.E.N.O.M would make you one. And suddenly his friends were disappearing one by one.

A subtle but sudden-onset disease, the V.E.N.O.M variant was nearly undetectable, very persuasive, and incredibly effective.

More primal than animalistic, the symbiote's function didn't raise one's bloodlust, - instead it lowered, and at worse cancelled, your empathy. The symbiote subtly normalized dehumanization - attacking neurons in the cerebral cortex to destroy one's capability of empathy, compassion, and at times - recognizing faces. Able to follow commands without a second thought - the perfect soldier. Convincing the host of necessary order and their own biological superiority, over the course of 72 hours the host would lose their ability to recognize the people around them as anything other than sub-human. In 138, V.E.N.O.M turns you into an animal. In 831, V.E.N.O.M turns everyone around you into an animal.

It could make anyone into an unfeeling, unrelenting soldier - no guns needed.

The best of them got sent overseas to the War - and the rest, he turned on the people, hunting down all those who dared to dodge their call.

While on tour in DC, Artie was bitten by a radioactive spider, as he attempted to burn draft papers at a government facility.

He burned the papers. Plus he got some sick powers out of it. Plus Plus he gets to beat up The National Guard on a weekly basis. Ain't that a score.

And Hobie may hate the name Spider-Punk (or so he says), but Artie loves being Spider-Funk.

He calls them Funk & Punk. Hobie calls them that too, but like in a cool ironic way.

Artie & Hobie:

Personality:

Hobie knows that Artie is going through his 'Pavitr Phase', so he cuts him some slack. Artie's only been Funk for a year and some change.

He's got more Ws than Ls, so he's always one to be a bit cocky and reckless - though never at anyone's expense.

He's more talkative than Hobie - and WAY more flirty than Hobie, ready to wink at anyone willing to stare.

Like Hobie, Artie has his own groupies. And the pair on campus do get stares (and whispers. and giggles); Two 6'5 dudes with enough hair to cause an eclipse, walking around in loud ass boots, they're sure to draw attention.

Something Artie loves.

Artie considers himself a Ladies' Man. And a Man's Man. And what gender you have to offer really. (He's still a 'Hobie' - he doesn't discriminate)

He's got a waterbed in his boathouse, shag carpets, and wine at the ready. He loves sweet-talking people, and showering them in compliments. Whereas Hobie's love language is Physical Touch, Artie's is Words of Affirmation.

But all Hobie has to do is open his mouth and Be British and suddenly Artie's date is swooning and he's like 'Brotha, I'mma need you to shut the hell up for a second right quick.'

If you hang out with them, get ready for Hobie hanging off your shoulder, while Artie is in your ear complimenting your outfit.

Fighting:

Artie's fighting style is a lot more fluid than Hobie's with a lot of martial arts involved - similar to blaxploitation movies of the era.

Hobie thinks he looks bloody ridiculous meanwhile Artie is like 'if dem damn jeans weren't so tight maybe you could get like me and have some flair in your fight, my man.'

He also has an INCREDIBLY MEAN backhand.

Ideology:

The two of them are fairly close, hanging out with each other a lot. Though the two of them are fairly different. Artie is far more pacifist than Hobie, but that doesn't mean he's above violence.

He's just not one to talk about it, or threaten it. He's more of the 'let people talk - don't start none, won't be none'. Camp - and he'll almost never throw the first punch. Though he absolutely considers intimidation, selling hard drugs, and fucking with the general population 'starting some'.

Their ideology may clash heads everyone once in a while, but they hardly ever fight. At all. Instead, they have frequently heated, in-depth debates.

Artie may not be as radical or educated on things as Hobie, plus Hobie has ten years of extra history to pull from, but the two of them do it often, and it keeps them spry.

The only problem is, they get so into it, it SO HARD to understand what they're saying. Accents, slang, cutting each other off, roping other people into the conversation to back them up. It's WILD.

Artie is a lot more materialistic than Hobie. Not as critical of capitalism, Artie likes to game it rather than complain about it.

Unlike Hobie, Artie LOVES the finer things in life, and spoiling those around him. He likes gold over silver, and wears more rings than spikes.

He's a bit full of himself, and he carries a rag in his pocket to whip blood off his nice white boots. Something Hobie wouldn't be caught DEAD doing.

And Hobie clowns him for it everytime. Artie doesn't care. 'True playas never play sloppy.'

But how can he afford all of this? Well,

He's not as uhh,..honest as Hobie. But he has a heart of gold (get it?). And he never lies just to lie - if he's doing it, it's probably for work, or to Miguel, because he does not respect Miguel.

Artie be stealing. He's a master at sleight of hand. If it's a big corporation, it's free game. He never steals money - but to put it concisely: He's a smooth mfer.

He likes gold - he thinks it looks nice. But he knows for a fact that the worth of it is completely manufactured my human and capitalism, and that it's literally just a pretty metal.

He knows that paying hundreds for a chain or gold is exploitative, especially when it's stolen to begin with. So to him, it's justifiable, gimmie.

He also does it mostly for fun, a magic trick - in the same way Hobie makes stuff 'disappear' while talking to Miles, and doing hand tricks.

Artie does that, but more often, and more skillfully.

He doesn't do it all the time, but the first time he did it in front of Hobie - snatching Hobie's homemade watch of his wrist - Hobie was genuinely surprised.

Mostly he does it to make things disappear from your hand, parts he finds lying around, and playing pranks on people like Miguel. Generally, just being a lil shit.

He's a sweet-talker and a big steppa.

Unlike Hobie, Artie knows better than you force his way in. Artie slides in. He can talk them in to anywhere.

He'll pretend to be someone else, pretend to know someone else, steal passes and key cards to get in, and try to attack from the shadows when he can.

In battle, Spider-Punk is the louder, chattier, more immature one. And Spider-Funk is the chiller, sarcastic one.

Like twins, the two of them have their own in-jokes, and they hang at each other's places all the goddamn time. Though they live in different universes and decades, Artie & Hobie are kinda a package deal.

They may not always be together - they both got their own shit to do and they're not actually brothers - but if you hang with one, it's only a matter of time before you meet the other.

"Why is your brother American?" "Divorce." - "Adoption." ........ "Adoption." - "Divorce." "One of you or the both of you are lying."

Diane & Artie & Annie -

[This section is about my main OC Disco-Spider Diane, and her variant Annie P. Disco-Spider is Hobie's....something and they are happily....a something]

Every Hobart needs his Diane, and Artie is no different.

Artie & Diane:

And like usual, it all starts at the beginning.

Diane was the one to recruit Artie - because of course she was. And Lyla had told her two things: He was a guitarist, and his name was Artie. That's all she needed to know.

Lyla wanted it to be a surprise.

She snuck back stage to his show, brushed off the nearly palpable feeling of deja vu in the air, broke into his dressing room, and then tried to flirt him into joining the Society. Easy peasy.

Diane is a very oblivious woman. They spoke for nearly 10 minutes - and Artie decided to hear her out. He sat down on the couch in his dressing room, pulled back his hair and-

Diane goes -

"Hobie??? Is that you?! Oh my goodddd, you look so cute! Your hair!! Hobarrrrt - Why you ain't say nothing, had me standing here doing all this."

Speech completely forgotten. Mind you, she still hasn't explained anything. Diane is destined to freak out every Hobart she meets.

Artie is starting to think he should stop flirting with weird ass groupies that break into his dressing room.

Diane takes out her watch, the watch he doesn't know she has. She pulls up Lyla, the AI he doesn't know she has. And Diane asks her -

"Lyla! Does Artie stand for-" "It does!" "Oh my god!!! That makes this SO much easier! You're soo sweet, awww!!" "You know I saw the mission and thought of you-" "Am I on drugs right now?"

Needless to say - Diane's recruitment was successful.

Diane and Artie actually get on well, really well. Like weirdly well.

Artie and Diane are both extroverted, flirty, and a bit full of themselves. They're expressive, and more into their hair than they're willing to admit. They're perfect for each other - and people notice.

And Diane finds it a TAD BIT WEIRD

I mean, the differences between her and Hobie is what Diane loves about them - they're like sugar and spice, PB and J.

Sometimes Artie and Diane may accidentally finish each other's sentences - and Diane will be like 'Hey don't do that :)'. Other times, Artie will playfully be like 'Why are you standing so close to me, mama?' Just to piss her off.

Of course, Diane thinks he's 'cute'. But not Hobie Cute. And unfortunately, he 'speaks American'.

Besides, Hobie is the only Hobart for her.

Artie is definitely into Diane, but more in the 'she's a catch I would go for' kinda way. He did hit on her a couple times early on in their situation - but once she made it clear that she was 'seeing Hobie', he took the hint.

There's no jealously there - Hobarts are incapable of it. In fact, he's kinda proud the only other guy who could pull the hot girl is ..another him.

Now, Artie is a lot more like a big brother, kinda like the ones Diane grew up with in the Panther's house.

He's protective of her, in a 'Be mean to her and I'll deliver an ass whoppin on a plate' way. He thinks she's cute in the way a platonic sense, and finds her groupie mode to be as amusing as it is adorable.

It's ironic though that his ACTUAL girlfriend is - well, Diane's Opposite.

Artie & Annie:

[This section is shorter, and will be longer in Annie's post]

Diane Pastors is Annie P. is Mod-Spider.

Artie's girlfriend, Annie is the farthest thing from Diane while somehow still being just as big of a diva.

An avid feminism campaigner and modern woman, she would never be caught DEAD hanging off of Artie like that. And she can't stomach Diane all that much.

Hobie, Annie HATES. And not in a coy way. She thinks he's obnoxious - she calls him a poseur. She thinks he's a scrub.

Her & Artie are in a committed relationship - officially boyfriend and girlfriend. And instead of Annie, Artie is the one who wears her name on a chain.

Just like Diane and Hobie, Annie and Artie have a musical duo - called ModFunk.

We're almost done I PROMISE.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Random Details:

Artie's design is an inverted version of Hobie's, but it's also inspired heavily by Jimi Hendrix, mainly this photo on the left.

Right is an example of Artie's Style. His universe has a paint-marker aesthetic, a lot more colorful and soft than Hobie's, with dripping paint and splatters, but it tones down a lot - like Gwen's.

Artie plays Soul, Jazz, and Funk.

He has a band with his version of Daredevil, Felicia Hardy, and Captain Anarchy.

Artie has killed cops - and soldiers before. But he doesn't see it as a big deal. He hates cops, but he doesn't focus on it. He doesn't discriminate. Ass Whoopin's for everybody.

He DOES pull his hair back, his face isn't covered all the time. Maybe 80% of the time.

He can get around with Spidey Sense, so he doesn't care much - he loves his fro and is always picking it out.

He Pavitr are like best friends. Pavi and The Brown Twins get LOUD AS HELL when all together.

Gwen thinks he's an absolute goofball - So Artie tries his best to make her laugh. She seems like she needs it.

When not on stage and in battle, he prefers to play an acoustic guitar, which Hobie doesn't like playing. His acoustic is also blue.

Him and Hobie can play on each other's guitars, but it sounds very trippy, and VERY VERY weird, abnormally so.

If their heads are covered, or hair done like each other's, they can seamlessly pass as each other.

Hobie SUCKS at an American accent - but somehow, he can mimic Artie's perfectly.

It's the same for Artie - sucks at British, but can speak like Hobie.

He loves chocolate candy bars, Hobie likes fruity candy.

They do write songs together and go to each others shows, though they don't ever really perform together.

They wrestle A LOT

Artie is a genius as well, and they work on mechanics together, Artie is great at math specifically.

He and Hobie do each others hair care and help oil each other's scalps.

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

So uh.....that's Artie :) The guy

If you made it this far THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ENTERTAINING ME - Artie platonically gives you a red rose.

ALSO TELL ME Why I tried to draw him like Jimi Hendrix But he looking like the Jackson 5 IM SO SORRY YALL

Here's OG Hobie as a thank you! Just imagine two Hobarts standing on either side of you both tall and with big hair and touchy and talkative as fuck Diane is living the DREAM let your OCs be happy

Bye.

[gemsofgreece]

Hello! Do you (and other Greeks) find "Hellenic polytheism" an acceptable term for the religion worshipping the ancient Greek gods? If not, what would you want people to call it instead? I feel strongly that I would not be able to change my belief itself, but I definitely want to be respectful in what I call it and my other actions

Hellenic Polytheism should be fine. You can introduce yourself as a Hellenic Polytheist.

People have a bit of a hard time with this hell of terms (get it? he he), so I am gonna create a mini-lexicon. It's not targeted to you in specific to use all these, it's just for whoever is interested to clear this up in their minds.

A very hellenic lexicon

Hellás = 1) the official term for Greece and the only one ever used by Greeks themselves (there is no equivalent of "Greece" in Greek), 2) a historical ancient region in central mainland Greece where southeast Epirus and southwestern Thessaly meet and where a lot of Achilles' soldiers supposedly originated from, 3) the administrative region of central mainland Greece during the Byzantine Empire

Hellenic = anything Greek (like you may say "this is an american movie", that's why you can use hellenic polytheism, because it means "greek religion of many gods"). And by anything Greek, we mean ANYTHING. Care to know what the "Greek Orthodox Church" is called in Greek?

You guessed it! Hellenic Orthodox Church...! So you see, how when foreigners say some things like "i'm hellenic, hellene, hellenist" like "what hellenic are you? coffee? bank? Christian?" You know?

Hellen = the mythological progenitor of the Greeks according to Hesiod. Not to be confused with Helen.

Héllene = a Greek by descent, nationality and / or ethnicity. And if we are being totally accurate, it's a Greek male. I don't actually know how it is pronounced in English but ideally keep the last e silent. (By the way we do not pronounce that h in the beginning in all these words for the last 1500 years or so.... just saying.)

Héllenes = the Greeks, just men or mixed. The last e is NOT silent.

English does not have gendered nouns but Greek does so technically there is a seperate word for Greek women but I don't know if this is transferable to English. If we could do it in theory and by following the trasliteration style of the Hellene, it should be something like:

*Hellenís / Hellenidae or Hellenides = Greek woman / women*

Hopefully this explains why random foreigners identifying as "Hellenes" is exremely problematic.

Helladic = pertaining to the geography and territory of Hellas and whatever happens strictly within its borders

Hellenisation = spread of Greek influence and culture, it is also used for cases of Greek assimilation in ancient times

Hellenistic = 1) something being characterized by particular Greek influence, 2) referring to the era after the Classical period and before the Roman period

Hellenicá = 1) the Greek language, 2) (infrequent) Greek matters, documented topics about the Greeks

Hellenism = The complete Greek culture, civilization and nationhood, the essence of being Greek.

Hellenist = 1) a specialist in the study of Greek language, literature, culture, or history, or an admirer of the Greek culture and civilization, 2) a person who adopted the Greek customs, language and culture during the Hellenistic period, 3) now, the English Wiktionary also adds the "a follower and practitioner of Hellenic religion" <- which one of the two??? XD, clearly following the trend of western classicist circles. In the Greek Wiktionary for the same exact term (Ελληνιστής) that last interpretation does not exist and I can guarantee you it is officially rejected. Here's why: the suffixes -ist and -ism (as well as all suffixes here) are suffixes of Greek origin and they signify that someone is something or is passionate and dedicated to something on the superlative or very very earnestly, essentially. So when someone says they are a hellenist, they are supposed to be dedicated or charmed by anything that makes something hellenic, not to be professional cherry pickers. Of course, everyone is allowed their preferences, however you can't be interested in a super specific / niche thing like a religion mostly practiced 2000-3500 years ago and simultaneously show complete disregard and ignorance on literally everything else about this civilization, history and its living people and call yourself a hellenist. It tears the word apart. By the way this is not targeted at you. You are here asking about it, wanting to do the right thing. I am referring to this thing happening in this forum that @alatismeni-theitsa 's Anon was complaining about; they obsess over the ancient religion and they hate everything Greek post the AD mark. That's not being a Hellenist. That's not a Hellenism forum. That's the exact opposite in fact. Very few people can correctly claim the term "hellenist".

BONUS: Philhellene is kind of synonym to "hellenist" and it means "friend / lover of the Hellenes and all things hellenic". But again it can surely be misused. Not all self-proclaimed Philhellenes were ones indeed. Some, like Lord Byron, were Philhellenes through and through, on the other hand.

Of course, one definitely does not have to go through what Lord Byron and other great Philhellenes of the 19th century went through to prove they are a Hellenist or a Philhellene! My point is that very very few people can correctly claim the identity of a Philhellene or a Hellenist.

Therefore, "Hellenic polytheist" is just fine.

[paradlselost]

i am so glad im finding another person who writes for far cry :)) if possible, can we see a jacob seed x gn!deputy who replaces pratt as his prisoner? it ends with jacob being their one and only, (even if its dubcon)

WIND — UP TOY

jacob seed x gn!deputy

⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ ty for being my first submission ! jacob and his region lowkey scare the shit out of me lmao 🙏 kinda a little fucked up but I mean it’s jacob seed . also sorry this took so long ); smut below the cut

no use of y/n , reader is referred to as ‘ deputy ’ . gender specific nicknames are replaced by ‘ pup ’ . not beta - read

⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬ blasphemy , deputy is treated like a dog , implied forced cannibalism , implied death of a minor character , brainwashing , jacobs his own warning isn’t he ? smut : dub - con , degrading , oral ( m receiving ) , soft - ish sex , penetration , dacryphillia , one - sided orgasm .

It always crept up on him when he least expected it; when things began to have a sense of normalcy. His days a haze and his nights clouded with gunfire and explosions, dreams marred with blood and the guts of former comrades and men who died far too young. For what?

What is the American dream when the world is going to end anyways? What are the soldiers overseas fighting for when the rivers will soon flow with blood and the ground tarred with ash?

His hand runs over his face; rubbing tired eyes. Demons of his past prey on him while he sleeps, turning him weak. Two to three hours is good enough for him, leaves him rested enough for his eyes to focus on the maps in front of him.

Being the leader of the army of Eden’s Gate wasn’t an easy job, though he held it with pride - a cardinal sin - but Joseph would forgive him as long as the prophecies his little brother had bouncing around his head came true. Jacob didn’t know if he believed in anything, really, it was hard to imagine God was with the soldiers that clutched cross pendants behind HESCO barriers.

But where he might’ve drifted from the true meaning of the cause further and further, where he might’ve argued the existence of a higher power with Joseph; one thing grounded him to his purpose and place in the cult. The Deputy.

Joseph’s ramblings were insane to the layman and gospel to the believer - but it seemed right now they were damn prophetic. Everything he said the Deputy would do; they did, and left bodies in their wake. Sometimes, he would watch whatever the cameras picked up of them on his screens, how they traversed the Whitetails with an almost practiced knowledge.

Sometimes, he felt like the eighteen year old new enlistee again when he watched them. The blood, the gunfire. Jacob Seed was a tough man, righteous and brave, but he would look down at them in their cage and feel the fire on his skin from the ranch he burned all those years ago.

He hated the feeling, wanting to drive his pocket knife into his chest and carve out every semblance of memory he had. But then his music box would rewind, and he would hear the sweet sound of the Platters crooning through the wood and metal and maybe, just maybe, things would be okay for him.

So he watched the way the Deputy writhe behind those thick steel bars against the cold soil, not afforded the luxuries even the most depraved prisoners received. Weak and idiotic for attempting to save their friend; but a mind that could be molded with the right tune.

Staci Pratt was a good pet; Pavlovian in nature and willing to do anything for the oldest Seed brother, so maybe that’s why Jacob began to grow bored of the man. Maybe that’s why he entertained the cracks beginning to show in the conditioning, how Pratt’s eyes softened at the sight of their co-worker being taunted by the Herald and yet knowing there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

An escape plan, of course he knew about it, he had eyes and ears everywhere and could always tell when one of his dogs stepped out of line. A perfectly timed truck, the siren going off to alert that a prisoner had escaped, catching Pratt as he allowed the Deputy to leave without him. It was almost sweet, but moreover vomit-inducing, like a lamb.

Sheep are creatures controlled by their own nature, that’s why dogs have to herd them back into formation - like a general in charge of new recruits. Intolerables are discharged, lambs are taken to the slaughterhouse. Nature, the circle of life, the bad meat is thrown out for the poor and needy to pick through.

“Eat. You wouldn’t want to fall sick, would you?”

A tin was placed in front of the Deputy, they had been through this before. Starved for however many days Jacob deemed necessary - usually ten - before they are given nothing but raw meat to eat. Never did they think they would yearn for the peanuts and beer served at the Spread Eagle, but there was no position to argue about what they were being given here.

Some fell over the side as greedy hands shoveled clump after clump into their mouth, covering it in a pitiful yet successful attempt to keep it down. Never did they ask what kind of meat it was, choosing to instead assume it was from one of the many cow farms in the valley.

“You’re hungry, aren’t ya, pup? You’re lucky, that’s a nice cut of meat.” A grin played on his face as he leaned against the metal bars, fingers grazing over his music box. There wouldn’t be any culling today, no, he had a much better idea in mind.

“Where’s Pratt?”

“Not even a thank you for my generosity, aren’t you fierce?”

“Where is he?”

“Peaches’s little act of rebellion earned him a punishment, I mean; that’s only fair. In a war like this you can’t go sympathizing with the devil, no matter how well you knew them before.”

It’s not an answer, but there’s an unspoken understanding that that is the closest thing the Deputy will get to knowing. A huff falling from their lips, ever the ungrateful dog; but their bowl is licked clean and what more can Jacob ask for?

A soft tsk fell from his lips, cold and condescending because how could he be anything but? Did the thing below him deserve care and kindness? Maybe at some point when they were strong, when their mind was still their own, but now they were nothing but a lamb being fattened for the slaughter.

His fingers grasped their chin, forcing eye contact and no doubt leaving marks that would form bruises. How much had they been through? Chest slashed with the markings from Jacobs little brother and mind already foggy from the bliss that grew in the Henbane; but there was a certain pride he took in being the one to break them.

How much time had passed? Had anyone come looking for them? Jacob had often taunted them, used the fact that they were immobile against the conditioning he had given them to contact anyone. The rebellion would fall without their snake, maybe it already had, how would the Deputy know?

It wasn’t their place to think anymore, to simply let the oldest Herald put a leash around their neck and sit beside like a good dog. Their mind wasn’t their own, now it belonged to him and they had no room to complain.

“Look at’chu, open your mouth.” But he didn’t wait for them to comply, instead he bullied his fingers against their tongue, exploring over their gums and teeth. They could bite him, certainly, but they didn’t - wouldn’t.

Who was Jacob Seed but their owner? He had saved them from themselves, from the blood and the gore and the fire that threatened to burn the world to nothing but ashes. Joseph had greeted them in their new form, John had shown up to pout, but their eyes only ever stayed on the eldest.

“Such a good pup, ‘ did a wonderful job training you, huh?” He asked as if they could answer, as if they weren’t preoccupied by the fingers that traced their mouth like he was mapping them out.

A hum passed from his lips as he removed his fingers, instead moving to undo the buckle on his belt. Even in this state, the Deputy wasn’t stupid and could very clearly tell what was coming next. So, to hopefully avoid any wrath from him, moved to help undo his pants.

Leaning back in his chair and observing as they removed his pants, fingers trailing over the growing bulge in his boxers. Jacob was a stoic man, never did the Deputy know if they were really doing good, but he didn’t scold them so there was no stopping.

Hands smoothed out the black fabric a bit nervously, playing with the hem for a moment before a soft grunt from the Herald alerted them. Knowingly, their fingers hooked underneath the waistband and pulled it away from his freckled skin, letting it pool at his ankles along with his pants.

Wrapping around the base of his still hardening cock, their eyes fluttered up to meet his gray ones. A silent beg, a plea that they were doing alright and there would be no punishment later. All they got in return was a small nod; though there was no love or care behind it. More like a drill sergeant instructing a particularly moldable soldier.

Gentle, unsure licks placed against his tip, hand working against the base; fingers brushing against veins that worked overtime to pump blood to his dick. Jacob Seed was not one for taking his sweet time, his fingers tangled in their hair as he pushed their head down on his aching cock.

A soft gag fell from their lips, hands moving from him to settle on his toned thighs. A heavy breath leaving their nose as they tried their hardest to relax, nuzzling against his untamed ginger hair. He relished in the warmth of their throat, the tightness eliciting a groan as he pushed his hips up.

Their gagging was the sweetest sound he had ever heard, the soft whimpers and tears that emitted from the Deputy as they tried their hardest to just breathe through their nose. He loved the power he held over them, how those pretty tears fell for him.

“Cmon pup, look up at me.”

Fighting between lifting their head to meet his gaze and keeping their mouth wrapped around his cock, the Deputy managed to tilt their head up enough to see him. His smirk widened, cock throbbing against their throat as he watched the tears continue to fall from them.

Another few thrusts to the back of their throat before he groaned, pulling their head off his dick with a small ‘pop’. A trail of saliva still connected their lips, pre-cum mixed in with it. He couldn’t help the laugh that emitted from him at the sight of their swollen lips and heavy breathing.

“Poor thing. Don’t cry, I take care of you, don’t I?”

The Deputy couldn’t do anything but nod, and maybe it was a bit true. Jacob did care for them in his own sick and twisted way. In the back of their mind they wondered if this was how he treated Pratt behind close doors; more like a prized trophy than a lover.

His hands grabbed at their hips, pulling them onto his lap. The small barrier of whatever clothes they had been wearing on their lower half before was quickly removed, giving him access to everything he wanted.

Burying their face into the crook of his neck and wrapping arms around the back of him, the Herald lifted their hips once more to guide himself inside their needy hole before pushing them down onto him. Stretching, pain emanating from the sudden intrusion, he could feel the tears that fell from them and landed against his skin.

He cooed, a grin still wide on his face. His hands still settled on their hips, guiding them up and down on his cock. Gentle movements at first that quickly devolved to an almost feral extent. His pre-cum marred the inside of their hole, creating wet and sticky sounds everytime he fucked in and out of them.

It felt like a dam was about to break by the time Jacob decided he was finished. Loud sobs wracked their body as they cuddled closer to him, so close yet so far. His hips continued to move for a moment; stuttering and shifting a bit before he released inside of them, filling them with his cum.

The Deputy finally leaned back after a moment, tears still flowing from their now red eyes, sniffling - but they still attempted to move their hips over him. To get any kind of release as the Herald caught his breath. Needily grinding against his lap, hands clutching his shirt in a pitiful attempt that only made him laugh more.

“Oh, look at’chu. Pup needs to get off too, huh? Don’t worry, I told you I’ll take care of you.”

[evangelina830]

Meet the Bandit!

(RP Blog for them!)

Name: Evan

Age: 23

Weight: 112 lbs

Height: 5’0”

Role: support

Ethnicity: Mexican/American

Origin: California, USA

Primary: Machine pistol

Secondary: RPG

Melee: Bowie Knife

Speed: 95%

HP: 150

Personality:

Despite sneaking around, being apart of their stealing technique, they have a usual very silly personality similar to Scout, except without such a big ego and a try-hard habit for women. They joke around a lot, and sometimes get loud depending on their mood.

Abilities:

Stealing

Trading

Sneaking

Likes:

Piano

Art

Comics

Animals

Making deals/Money

Dislikes:

Tomatoes

Big bodies of water

Backstory: as a baby, they were picked up off the side of the road, but they looked a little strange. Growing up in California, they were raised by a family of one mother, six sisters and one brother, being the third oldest of the group. They wear a human disguise because they are a secret alien shapeshifter exploring earth! (They are actually born from Venus…)

Appearance:

Evan’s brown eye color matches their hair, although Eva’s eyes are a lighter brown.

Both of their hair is the same brown, but a blue and red/pink ombré.

BLU bandit, aka Evan, has somewhat crooked teeth (and find the excuse to wear their scarf more often to hide it. Mostly, to hide their smile). But Eva’s teeth are straighter, being the cloning process. Evan also has rather sharp canines.

Both bandits have beauty marks (moles) in the same spots.

Eva’s skin is slightly darker than Evan’s due to being in the sun more

Red bandit’s hair is a bit straighter, and shorter In the back. Blu bandit’s hair is more wavy

Facts:

both Bandit’s use they/them pronouns.

The BLU Bandit is actually the original, the RED being the true clone. Both bandits often, casually, switch teams because they get along with them better. They only kill their friends on the battlefield. (My headcanon is that the blue team is all clones of the red team, being born into the mindset of war, which is why some mercenaries may be more serious than the RED team.)

A strange fact about Eva, is that during Evan’s cloning, they were recognized as a human, therefor, they are not an alien like the BLU Bandit.

Eva is rather monotone and speaks a lot less than Evan. Although, they are kinder if you get to know them, despite looking angry as a resting face.

Evan has a tortoiseshell cat named Molly, back at home

They shake violently when having caffeine, and since they have anxiety they either get a burst of energy, or get anxious (choosing to ease their nerves by running or dancing), so they ‘aren’t allowed’ to have it, but would do anything to get their hands on coffee cause they love the taste.

Oddly enough, BLU Bandit melts (literally) when they feel a strong emotion (like nervousness, excitement, or extreme pain - so they often melt when they die during battle), but it’s somehow a normal thing to the others. (Melts into a puddle, but always returns in one piece)

Relationships:

Scout: He’s just too much similar to Bandit. They often bicker (usually in a playful way). Though sometimes, they like to talk about comics together.. they have a relationship similar of siblings.

[Bandit calls Scout; Chucklehead (to mock him), Jerms, Jay. Scout calls Bandit; Bandy, four eyes, amigo (to mock them), Copy-cat, Ban-Ban]

Their duo name would be called Comic Twins

Pyro: Bandit and Pyro love to craft together! Even if it’s with the blood and guts of their enemies. Evan is also a good translator to his mumbling.

[Bandit calls Pyro; mumbles, py, señor loco]

Their duo name would be called Gender who? (Lol)

Soldier: These two often play fight like animals, but Bandit teases him more than actually doing something. They bond over their love for raccoons and rockets! Bandit sees him like an uncle or a ‘stupid older brother’.

[Bandit calls Soldier; Solly, Sol, Jay-Dee, soldado, sky man. Solly calls Bandit; Rookie, Rocket pal, cadet, sneaky little thief]

Their duo name would be called Raccoon Rockets

Demoman: they are Very close with him - If Demoman isn’t with Solly, he’s with Bandit or both of them! And Bandit seems to have a little crush.. they exchange platonic kisses sometimes and play piano together, but perhaps it’s a bit more than friendly.

[Bandit calls Demoman; Demo, Guapo, Tav, Dee, Tavish-ing (like ravishing). Demo calls Bandit; Bandy, lad, Bonnie, Bee (to mimic the way they give nicknames), Ev]

Their duo name would be called Piano 4 Hands!

Heavy: Bandit and Heavy have a family like relationship. Like they do to others, bandit likes to mess with him, but he doesn’t react as much as the rest do. So taking that into consideration, Bandit is calmer around him and nicer.

[Bandit calls Heavy; Señor viejo, H, pesado, Hev. Heavy calls Bandit; маленький вор, подлый енот, small Bandit]

Their duo name would be called Sticks and stones

Engineer: The last thing this Engineer needs is for a sneaky thief to steal parts of his machines! He gets frustrated with them sometimes, but they’ve got a silly thing going on. Bandit sees Engi like an uncle, and he sees them like an annoying little nephew.

[Bandit calls Engi; ingeniero, Engi, Dell pepper, robot man. Engi calls Bandit; Bandy, little thief, Ban, sneaky trash panda]

Their duo name would be called Astronomical Smarts

Sniper: While sniper studies aliens, it doesn’t help that he works with one, though he doesn’t know for sure (even though he��s correct). Bandit knows of this, since Sniper sometimes tries to call them out, but they ignore it, protecting their secret, by playing it off as a joke. Besides that all, they’re quite good friends.

[Bandit calls Sniper; Monday, francotirador, Snipes, Em, Vanny, hombre sucio. Sniper calls Bandit; Bandy, crook, Space-man, sneaky critter]

Their duo name would be called Alien Exploration

Medic: The Medic may be the only one Bandit is afraid of, just a little. Half of their interactions are passive-aggressive. Though, on some occasions they get along relatively well, and like to talk about silly things.

[Bandit calls Medic; Doctor, El, Doctor L, lewd-wig (to immaturely mock his wild behavior, and name). Medic calls Bandit; hinterhältiger Dieb, kleine Ratte]

Their duo name would be called Anxiety diagnosis

Spy: Their favorite thing to do is talk about romance and banter about how more sneaky one is. And sometimes, they secretly gossip to one another…

[Bandit calls Spy; Spy-der, French fry, espiar, Señor, hombre cangrejo. Spy calls Bandit; petit voleur, Monsieur?, Thief, raton laveur sournois]

Their duo name would be called sneaky Romanticists

Pauling: Bandit has always admired Miss Pauling, and even hates when Scout flirts with her. Not because of jealously or anything of the like, but because they’re aware there’s a much better method to charming a woman like her and it’s almost offensive how he always fails (LOL). The two are friends that don’t interact so often, but bandit respects her

[Bandit calls Pauling; Señora, Pauli, señorita violeta, Señora P.]

Their duo name would be called Cat-Eye lenses!

[rodolfoparras]

OK imma be honest and little personal, before I knew a little bit more about the LGBT, I just didn't care I just knew they existed, now that im older and apart of it nothing changed ngl...just maybe a little rude with it. I'm like "Oh you're gay? Cool want a cookie?" Or "Oh, you think being gay is the devils or whoever you claim doing? Want a medal?". I don't mind having people like having something for them but a month? Sounds like robbery 2 me like, What about soldiers like I mean the good soldiers who actually fight for their people? I'm sorry, but if I could, I would make certain... things like these two have at least a week, but like I said, I don't mind it... I just find it... wrong in a way...like think about it...when something big happens in your life (if yall do it like me) we just celebrate it in like that first week, like what I mean is for the first few days it's all "WOOHOO THIS HAPPEND TOO YOU" then the rest of the week it's just "congrats". Like I remember a few years back, I'm not sure if it's still the same now. But soldiers die every day and stuff, and all they get is a day, and everyone like "poor soliders rest in peace" and then go on about their lives after a few bours or something . But the moment a Trans person got killed, suddenly everyone dropped everything and talked about it for weeks....trying not to sound harsh, but come on....

Sugar I think you have a lot of inner work to do

Pride month cannot be boiled down to a celebratory party of sexualities and genders

While yes a major part of pride month is to celebrate lgbtq people it’s also about remembering the journey as to how we got here, plenty of people literally laid their lives down so there could be a celebration in the first place sugar I don’t know if you know this but trans people would literally use bricks and drop it onto their genitals or their chest to get rid of those parts, a lot of trans people died of cancer and other terminal illnesses because it was considered shameful to treat an openly trans person no matter what severe condition they had it’s also to raise awareness of how lgbtq people of color made a lot of things possible for us, did you know that before colonization native people had woman man and then a third gender that didn’t fall in either category white, Christian cis people wiped that out because it was considered abnormal and now today we have a whole chunk of people who are seen as abnormal because that whole gender identity has been wiped out pride month is to also raise awareness to everyone who can’t live their lives like they want to. It’s like international women’s day just because women in Europe have it good doesn’t mean that it’s fine and dandy all around the world

The reason as to why people don’t care much for soldiers is that the only ones discussed are American ones- soldiers belonging to armys who have more or less started the war in different places. Never have I seen people discuss the 10.000 soldiers that died in the srebrenica genocide - soldiers- boys 18 year old boys 10.000 of them- that had to forcefully enlist in the army because their country was going through a genocide

And the reason as to why trans people get so much coverage once they get killed is the same reason as to why women get so much coverage when they get horrifically murdered by a man they’re oppressed, soldiers are not oppressed soldier more often than not are the oppressors.

With that being said I do hope you take time to actually do research on your history because the reason as to why you can be like “woo I’m gay ok let’s move on with my day” is because of thousands upon thousands upon thousands lgbtq ppl that made sacrifices for you those sacrifices didn’t happen that long ago

[grison-in-space]

Currently rereading Eric Flint's 1632 and reflecting on just how influential Flint was to me and my approach to both praxis and politics as a teenager. I found Flint when I was about thirteen or fourteen, around the time I found Pratchett I think, and he's left an equally wide thumbprint on my soul. Isn't that the most wonderful thing about stories, that people you've never met can help shape our adult selves? Mother of Demons I often recommend for its SFF worldbuilding--Flint built a species with at least four genders, only some of which are reproductive, and associated "normal" sexual orientations, and then proceeded to write in a textually intersex character and queer the hell out of it.

1632, though, is the one where a little West Virginia town in 2000 gets picked up and dropped in the middle of Thuringia, Germany in the eponymous year--right in the middle of the Thirty Years War. The local United Mine Workers of America chapter plays a major role, particularly its head.

As I write this I'm listening to the scene where the little town of Grantville, having admitted after a few days that they are probably not ever going home, is crowded into the high school gymnasium listening to the mayor lay that reality out and suggesting an interim council to help the town set out a sort of constitutional convention so they can work out what on earth they're going to do moving forward--especially since there's a bunch of displaced refugees collecting in the forests nearby. Sensible of them, really; the Americans murdered the shit out of the local soldiers that displaced them, on account of how the shaken mine workers that went out to figure out WTF happened not being super down with suddenly running into a bunch of fuckheads raping the locals and torturing people to find out where their valuables might be. After that, said Americans proceeded to retreat into the town boundaries and gibber quietly to themselves. I would go lurk in their woods, too.

Anyway, the mayor sets up this proposal, everyone agrees, and a CEO who was visiting for his son's wedding at the time steps forward and says: look. I know how to lead, and I'm probably the most qualified person here. I lead a major industry corporation effectively and I did that after my time as a Navy officer. I put myself forward because I'm qualified. Now, we're going to need to circle the wagons to get through the winter, tighten our belts, but we can get through this. We can't support all these refugees, though; we'll have to seal the border so they can't bring disease--they're a drain on our resources we can't afford--

and the UMWA guy, he gets really mad listening to this. There's this Sephardic refugee woman he's real taken with who got swept up in the town first thing, and she's sitting in and listening; he's thinking about throwing her out, thinking about how much she knows about the place they're found in, and he's furious. But he gets a good grip on his anger and he marches up and he says, look. This dude has been here two days and he's already talking about downsizing?! You're going to listen to this CEO talking about cuts, cuts, cuts? Nah. Trying to circle the wagons is probably impossible, it's stupid, and if you think my men and I are going to enforce that, you can fuck off. That proposal is inside out and bass ackwards. We've got about a six mile diameter of Grantville here; how much food do YOU think we're going to grow? How about the soldiers wandering around, do you think we're going to be able to fight armies off on our lonesome? Look at the few refugees we already have in the room, they'll tell you how those armies will treat you! We could do it for a while, the amount of gun nuts here, but so what? We don't have enough people to shoot them! Not if we're going to do anything else to keep us going! We have about six months of stockpiled coal to keep going, and without another source or getting the coal mines working, we're screwed. We have technical strength but we don't have the supplies or resources we would need to maintain it. Those refugees? They're resources. We need people to do the work we will need to keep ourselves. The hell with downsizing; let's grow outwards! Bring people in, give them safety, see what they can bring to the table once they've had a moment! He invokes: send us your tired, your poor!, and the CEO yells in frustration: this isn't America! so he yells back "it will be!"

And of course everyone cheers. I love Flint for many reasons but he is unapologetic about affection for the America of ideals--ideals, he freely admits, that are often honored in the breach rather than the observance, ideals that are messy and flawed, but nevertheless ideals that can work to inspire us to become the best version of ourselves. For Flint, history is as valuable as a source of stories to inspire ourselves as it is a repository of knowledge, and on this I tend to agree with him. We must learn from our moments of shame but equally we must learn from moments that show us how to be our best selves.

It's been twenty three years and the text is now an interesting historical document in its own right, hitting points and rhythms in beats that are sometimes out of place today. It's not perfect. But the novel contains a commitment to joy and to emphasizing the leaps of faith and understanding that regular, everyday people make every day to try and support each other that I routinely try to match in my writing.

Anyway, one of the strengths of the novel, I think, is its gender politics: it's a very ensemble kind of novel, lots of characters, and it's preoccupied with positive masculinity in a lot of ways. There's a lot of these hyper masculine characters--Mike Stearns perhaps more than anyone else--and--and...

... And Flint's characterization of Stearns, as he sketches out who the man is--his pivotal American leader, ex boxer, working class organizer, big man.... well, it lands equally on "he is delighted and astonished to find a local woman who quickly assesses how the cushion of air in tires works," and "he considers who to set up a Jewish refugee in the middle of Germany up with and he thinks to ask the Jewish family he grew up with to host her and her ill father because he thinks she'll be most comfortable there", and "he views people as potential assets rather than potential drains." A younger man asks him for advice on whether to pursue a professional sports career because of the boxing and he says no, you're in the worst place of not being quite good enough and you'll blow out your knees without accomplishing safety. He frames that interaction such that he allows his own experiences to make him vulnerable and invite the younger man to understand when a struggle have worth it.

It's actually a really deft portrayal of intense masculinity that also makes a virtue of a bunch of traits more usually associated with women: empathy, relational sensitivity, the ability to listen. As a blueprint for what a positive masculinity can look like, vs the toxic kind, it's very well done. I think sometimes when we look at gender roles in terms of virtues, and when masculinity is defined in terms of opposition to femininity, people get lost by arguing that virtues assigned to one gender are somehow antithetical to another gender. In fact that's never been the case: virtues are wholly neutral and can appear in any gender. What the gender does is inflect the ways we expect that virtue to appear in terms of individuals' actions within their society.

Gender isn't purely an individual trait, basically; it's a product of our collective associations. Two characters with different genders can display the same virtues and strengths, but we imagine them expressed in different ways according to our cultural expectations around gender. And I just think that's neat.

[janitetsu]

Lolong Donaire General and Relationship headcanons!

wc: 1,305 i...am so sorry for my long absence 😥 life happened. i lost my grandfather, spiraled into sadness, dealt with toxic people, but i'm back!! ...sort of. i've recovered and found a great circle of friends online to help inspire me with writing. I'm thinking of opening asks as I also write whatever random ideas pop up in my mind. For now, please read about my fellow Filipino and see this so-called Monster of Manila be humanized! :> WARNINGS: - mostly gender-neutral s/o, creampie mention, a bit of angst, fluff!!!!

Born in a place where US military bases are primarily in, like Subic, Zambales or Angeles City, Pampanga. The cities I mentioned have red-light districts catered to expats.

Dreamed of studying in Manila to experience military school there without US intervention since most of the US soldiers or veterans around him are expats. Resents them.

I headcanon he’s an expat child, therefore, he is Filipino-American, but chooses to identify purely as Filipino due to his history. Donaire is a surname primarily in Visayas, not mainland Luzon (where Manila is), so, most likely his mother moved to Angeles or Subic, worked in their red-light districts, got impregnated by a US soldier (soldier paid an extra amount to not use protection), and raised him alone.

Affectionately nicknamed "Long" by his mother (most of the time she follows it up with "Anak") and the elderly, and "Kuya Lolong/Long" by the neighborhood kids. [Anak is a gender-neutral term of endearment for your child. Kuya can mean "big brother", but is overall a term for men a bit older than you]

Discovered by US military generals for being half-American and having exceptional martial arts prowess, so he was recruited to be Filipino soldiers’ martial arts instructor at the Philippine Army’s headquarters in Taguig, Fort Bonifacio. His mother was saddened to see him go so far away, but was ultimately proud that he'll be able to live a better life than she ever will. Does not seek monetary help from him and only wants his safety.

Being famous in Metro Manila is where his moniker came from.

After being recruited to be a martial arts instructor, he moved to Taguig, then after growing bored and quitting, moved to Manila, specifically the major district of Tondo, which is infamous for its gang activities and instances of violence due to drugs and politics. It felt familiar and "right" to him.

Perhaps became a bodyguard since he's formed connections with major criminal syndicates in Manila, then eventually outside of the Philippines. Only agrees to be a bodyguard under the condition that they either free their sex workers or don't mistreat them. That, and he would be allowed to kill anyone affilited with The Worm.

Only sends letters to his mother and does not want her discovering his involvement with the underworld and underground fighting tournaments…and his affinity for killing. He knows she would be angry and disappointed, hell, she might even suffer a heart attack. She raised him well—the best she could especially with her situation. She did nothing wrong. This was just the road he chose to take for his life. Maybe it was inevitable, given his lineage and background.

Always makes sure to send his mother lots of money to make up for his absence and dishonesty. She tries to turn down the money but he is obstinate about her keeping it under the guise of "gratitude for raising him well despite being alone and young".

Always prays before he sleeps at night. His mother was, is, and will always be the first person in his prayers. He's killed too many people to even consider going to heaven, even if all he's killed are Worms, so he always asks that God be kind to his mother and shower her with blessings and all goodness in the world instead of him. Also prays for the people in the cities he's lived in—for them to finally leave poverty behind. There's always a lingering thought in the back of his head that his prayers have no right to be heard and answered given his violent background.

Does his best to come back to the Philippine cities he's lived in and donates money and goods there. The kids love him! They love how cool and tall their Kuya Lolong is and always asks him to play basketball during the rare times he IS able to come back to the Philippines.

Loves street dogs and street cats (specifcially Philippines' Askals and Pusakals) and feeds them whenever he can. His mother usually did the same and he adapted it into his lifestyle even when he's overseas.

Doesn't date or avoids building any kind of intimate relationships. Thinks he does not deserve them, so he'll have to be actively pursued.

It's really hard getting to know him since he's so closed off and isn't much of a talker. Like Yan, this guy's a slow burn. It's best to hang out, chat with, and try to befriend him first. He prefers a deep connection first before developing a romantic relationship.

Absolutely no flings or one-night stands! That's how he was born. Look what lifestyle he lives now. Lolong values deep trust, authenticity, consent, autonomy, and mutual respect. Those are what he seeks in a partnership. If that's not what you're looking for, then you're not the one for him.

Used to dream of being married and experience the family life he never got to. Gave up on that dream after he became a bodyguard and a fighter…but maybe you can help him remember and revive that dream if you're open to the idea of marriage.

Fantasizes being married at either San Roque Chapel (in Subic) or Holy Rosary Parish Church,(in Angeles City), both very historical and beautiful churches visited by tourists from all over the country.

Does NOT believe in splitting the bill. Also always goes out of his way to treat you, what a gentleman!

Makes up for his shady background by always, always treating you right. Whatever you say, goes.

Not super into PDA at first as he's not used to being sweet or showing affection at all. Over time, though, he holds your hand or lets you hold his arm as you walk.

Pet names: Love or Mahal, and to get in touch with his Visayan roots, Pangga, a very gentle and endearing way to say "honey", "darling", or "my love"

NSFW

Being a Filipino, he is (one of the few???) circumcised men in the Kenganverse.

7 inches. Thanks to being half, he's a bit girthy and can definitely stretch you.

Vanilla. As. Fuck. Doesn't have outlandish kinks. He thinks kissing while fucking counts as a kink!

Only cums inside once you've been dating for years. He needs to know you're with him for the long ride. (hehe. long ride. yeah that's what you're gonna be doing to him.)

Switch, leaning more on topping, but as I mentioned earlier, what you say, goes. If you want to ride him or peg him, he's open to it.

His "dirty" talk is just him telling you he loves you and how good you feel. So, so grateful that even with his violent lifestyle, he has someone like you. He truly doesn't deserve you.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." Lolong leans his forehead onto yours as he thrusts inside you. "Mahal kita. Mahal na mahal kita." (I love you. I love you so much.) "Mahal na mahal…" (I love you so…) He cuts off his own words by kissing you, your tongue mingling with his.

His aftercare gets better the longer you're together. Before, it was…a bit awkward. He stares at you. Asks if you're feeling ok and if you're hurt. Pulls out and…stares at you while you either try to sleep or get up to pee. Don't worry, he's just letting everything sink in and is trying to get used to the fact that this will be a big part of his life now.

After a year or two, his aftercare has evolved to hugging you and cuddling after sex. You'll have to be the one to initiate getting food or taking a shower. He wants to relish the after-moments with you…while inside you. He won't pull out unless you explicitly tell him to. Dirty man.