#tuesday this is all because of you. i hope you know this.

[yanmuffins]

waiter! waiter! more phineas and ferb reader pls!

I wonder how the batfam would react once they catch reader inventions on a random tuesday, like, "hm, what a nice day to look out on the window and HOLY SHIT WHY IS THERE A GIANT ROBOT SPITING FIRE WHILE RIDING A ROLLERCOASTER IN MY BACKYARD???"

the events that would follow this incident would be funny and exasperating, me thinks

also, wouldn't it be funnier if Perry the Platypus was part of the JL? and like, no one knows his identity but Superman, and neither of them are willing to talk about it-

I know it would be very unlikely, since everyone there would have enough neurons to recognize a platypus with and without a hat, but for the sake of shit and giggles, just think of how funny that would be

welp, I needed to get that outta ma chest, I hope I at least made you laugh a little, because seriously this is one of the best ideas I've seen in this tag and I can't stop thinking and giggling about it

Stay well!

first: i was not expecting this concept to be so popular!! the responses i've gotten from everyone are so amazing!!  ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) thank you for the ask, anon!! it always makes my day.

i am formally announcing that i will be turning phineas and ferb reader into a fic now. it's too good a concept to pass up. something more light-hearted to work between the other fics i'm writing.

batfamily finding out about reader's whacky inventions would be an event. it so wholeheartedly shatters the image they had of reader to the point they just have to sit with what the hell just happened for a while before they even consider what to do about you next. still so many things that don't make sense. their newest case is how the fuck did we go this long without finding out (Y/N) has been building mechas in our backyard and why are those things always gone when it's convenient.

then the realizations just start dropping on them like an anvil on a looney tunes character. and they kinda feel like shit, cause how did they not notice? really puts into perspective how they've neglected you all this time. so many stunts you pulled right under their nose, on their backyard, their garage, throughout gotham and metropolis. ok, were out there being creative and amazing and you sure know how to spend the wayne family money, they'll give you that, but it was so irresponsible of you! who knows what could've gone wrong. you're not like them! you're a civilian with no training, the only regular teenager in the family, you're the last person who should be exposing themselves like that doing all that.

bruce goes off on you, screaming about how could you be so reckless, you did all of this behind his back– what? what do you mean he gave his permission? and he is floored, devastated, blood pressure up, when you remind him of every instance you dropped by his office with a document for him to sign or to ask for permission, with proof as you pull out every paper he signed without a second look.

and that, ladies and gentlemen, is when reader's dynamic with the batfam does a complete 180 and their little yandere antennae start going off. no more whacky cartoonish shenanigans. at least not without proper supervision. they know you're not a fan of this new arrangement, but you gotta understand they let you go unchecked for way too long! they'll drown you in family activities so you don't even have to worry about it. who wants to build a teleportation machine, anyway? just join them for family movie night.

as for perry, that is going to take them a while longer to figure out. bruce just can't stand another insane discovery like that, so when batman sees an intelligent platypus wearing a fedora and walking on two feet on justice league headquarters (if we're going by the idea that he's a part of JL), he's just going to think "my kid has a pet platypus. huh."

oh, consider:

dick: "damian, you knew all this time?! our sibling could've gotten into serious trouble! why didn't you tell us about this?"

damian: stares into the camera like he's in the office.

[bloatedandalone04]

Bets & Bargains - Part 13

Series Masterlist

➪in which you go to bradley’s party and instantly regret it, but he manages to get you to talk to him long enough to tell you what really happened between him and briana.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.9k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Fratley ❤️❤️: Hey, I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, and that’s fine, I get it. I just wanted to let you know that I’m having a party tomorrow night and I’d love for you to come. I promise I won’t annoy you or try to get you to talk to me. I just wanted to invite you. Maybe it will be even better than the last one, but not likely since that’s when I met you. Anyway, I hope you can come. I’m sorry.

You were debating on whether or not to go to the party at Bradley’s place.

You really had no reason to, but for some reason you kind of wanted to. It had been a few hours since you stopped crying, and instead of feeling sad, you were now feeling rather pissed off. You wanted to go to the stupid party and yell at Bradley for making you feel so good about yourself, then hurting you so fucking bad. 

Maybe that’s exactly what you’ll do. 

You were laying on your bed on Tuesday evening, rereading Bradley’s text over and over again, but you have yet to respond. You decided that you weren’t going to, because he didn’t deserve a reply.

Swiping off his contact (after looking at his stupidly cute picture for a few more seconds), you were about to switch to another app when your thumb hovered over a different contact. One you never planned on reaching out to ever again.

You clicked it and read the last text she sent, and you pressed your lips together as a feeling of embarrassment washed over you.

Sammy: You’re so immature, walking away like that yesterday. I really thought that you would’ve realized by now how wrong you were for what happened with Luke and now with this Bradley guy. You ruined any chance with Luke, Y/n. And for what? A hookup with a hot guy? Fucking crazy. 

Instead of feeling more and more worked up, you just leaned back on your bed, your thumb hovering over the red button that would ensure that Sam would only get to talk to you face to face. You’d already blocked Luke, with the help of Bradley’s encouragement, and you felt better after you did that. You’d probably feel great if you were to add his sister to your blocked list too. 

You didn’t know how long you had been sprawled out on your bed for, but it was nearing nine when you finally pulled yourself together and threw on a simple outfit; jeans and your floral crop top. 

Since you weren’t planning on staying long, you didn’t bother with putting on anymore makeup, instead leaving on the natural look you wore to your class earlier. 

As you stepped out of your room, you passed by Sam’s door and felt a wave of anger wash over at how fake of a friend she’s been this whole time. Was she ever really your friend? Or was she just pretending for her brother’s sake? Whatever it was, it left you in a bad mood, and you decided to focus that energy onto what you were going to say to Bradley. 

Technically, he was still your boyfriend. You never broke up with him, you just asked for space, but as soon as you see him tonight, you’d break it off. You knew your worth now, and sadly it was mainly because of Bradley since he was so sweet to you about your confidence issues you got from being with Luke, but still. It was kind of all his fault. 

Since Bradley’s frat house was right across the campus from your dorm, you made it to the bricked structure in less than ten minutes. You were sure if you looked hard enough, you could see the walls literally shaking from how loud the music was inside, and you were now a bit hesitant, because you had just gotten rid of your headache from all the crying, and you did not need another. 

But, you wouldn’t be here for long, so you just took a breath and walked into the house you had a stupid amount of fondness for, even now. 

Inside looked as packed, maybe even more so, as it did the first time you ever stepped foot in the house. Almost instantly, you felt uncomfortable and overwhelmed, and you crossed your arms in a form of self-protection as you maneuvered your way through the crowd. 

Instinctively, you were already looking for Bradley, for comfort or confrontation, you weren’t entirely sure at this point.

The smell of booze and smoke filled your nose as you found yourself in the dining room that was slightly less crowded than the rest of the house, and you pressed yourself against the wall as you sighed. 

What were you doing here? This was dumb and you were out of your comfort zone right now, but you just wanted…what, closure? Is that what you wanted? Is that why you were standing in your soon to be ex boyfriend’s dining room? 

No. No, you were here to tell him how fucking stupid he was for throwing what you and he were building away, and how pissed you were at him for making you believe he was different from every single fuckboy to ever exist. 

But, the second you turned your head to the right and saw his pretty brown eyes staring back at you, everything you had planned to say to him left your mind, and your body heated up in the way it always did whenever you saw him. 

Suddenly you had no fucking clue what to say to him, so you just kept your mouth shut and turned to face him as he began walking towards you.

-

Bradley hoped you would come tonight. 

After fucking it up with you, he was desperate to make things right. How? He had no idea. You were under the impression that he slept with Briana, but you ran out before he could explain, or even come up with a way to explain that it wasn’t what it looked like at all. 

You never actually answered his text that invited you to this party, but he knew that you read it, and he hoped that he would be able to find you eventually, because you were the only good thing in his life right now. He missed you, even though it had only been a day. 

Bradley wandered around his packed house completely sober, a red cup full of beer held loosely in his hand as he subtly looked for you, hoping to anyone listening that you did come, and that he could hopefully get you to talk to him. 

When he walked into the dining room, he spotted you almost instantly, tucked away in the very corner he met you in. His heart leaped a bit as your eyes met his, and you looked so small and vulnerable, Bradley felt terrible for putting you through this, but he couldn’t deny how fucking and relieved he was that you showed up. 

He could tell that you had already put walls up around you as he made his way through the crowd, and he hated it. “Hey,” he said softly, and he wasn’t sure you even heard him over the loud music, but it didn’t matter. You were here. “I’m so sorry, babes.” 

He knew he told you that he wouldn’t try to get you to talk to him, but how could he not? He knew he was losing you, and he had to at least try to stop it. 

“Can we…can we go somewhere private? Or quiet at least?” He nearly begged as you crossed your arms and huffed. “Please? I’ll let you yell at me for as long as you want, but only after I explain things to you. Properly.”

“Why? So I can watch you cheat on me again?” You muttered, looking up at him with guarded eyes, and Bradley fucking hated it, because you had never looked at him like that since he met you. “I thought you said you wouldn’t bother me, Bradley.”

He furrowed his brows, knowing that he needed to be extra careful with his words right now because you clearly didn’t trust him at the moment, and he needed to change that. “No, baby, that’s not what I meant at all. I promise you, I would never cheat on you, let alone with Briana. What you saw is just a big misunderstanding, I swear,” he murmured, his voice genuine and sincere. “I want to talk, just the two of us, please? I don’t want to lose you, Y/n. I don’t want to lose us.” 

You looked away when he placed one hand on the wall next to your head, your voice barely heard over the loud music. “A misunderstanding? She was in your bed, Bradley, I-” you cut yourself off with another huff. “I don’t see how that can be a misunderstanding.”

Because you’re not letting me explain, he wanted to say but was afraid it’d just make things worse. 

Bradley closed his eyes, collecting himself for a few seconds before opening them again, and he was starting to sound a bit desperate. “I get that it looks bad, but I swear, I promise you that nothing happened. Briana passed out in my bed and I slept on the couch. That’s it,” he said, feeling a headache forming from both the loud thumping and from how terribly this was going. “I know I messed up by not explaining it to you better or sooner, but I’m telling you right here and right now that I did not cheat on you.”

You looked at him with a conflicted expression on your pretty face, and he had a flicker of hope that maybe, maybe, he could convince you to let him explain it better than that. 

“Please, Y/n,” he mumbled as he leaned in closer. “Let’s go somewhere and talk properly. I need you to understand.”

“Bradley,” you trailed off, and he felt his heart fall. But then you sighed and nodded. “Okay. Fine.”

He perked up at that and it only took him a few seconds to process your words before he was giving you a grateful smile and gesturing for you to follow him. “Let’s go to my room where it’s quiet, and if you still want to leave after I explain everything…then at least you’ll know the truth,” 

When he started walking after handing his untouched cup off to a random person, you thankfully went with him and followed him up to his room. His door didn’t block out all the sound, but it did muffle quite a bit of the loud music, leaving only a faint thumping. 

Bradley closed the door behind you and moved to sit on the edge of his bed, but you stayed by his desk instead of sitting next to him, which he understood. Still, you had never been this closed off with him before, and he hated it. “I’m sorry for making you doubt me. That’s the last thing I wanted to do, okay?” He started, but you were barely looking at him, and he didn’t know how to fix this. “Babes…come here, please?”

When he called you by your nickname, you quickly looked over at him and crossed your arms, a conflicted look on your face before you gave in. You sighed and moved to sit next to him, but not nearly as close as you usually do. 

He ran his hands over his face, because the distance between you and him wasn’t even just physical at this point, but emotional too. “Briana called me Sunday night a few hours after you left, and she was going on and on about all this random shit, and I was two seconds away from hanging up on her and blocking her number, then she started talking about a guy that wouldn’t leave her alone, and I didn’t know what to do,” he said, putting it out there right at the start that he had no intention of ever letting Briana back in his bed. “She sounded drunk and like she was on something, so I picked her up from this party across town and brought her back here so she could crash on the couch and leave in the morning, but she went up to my room and passed out on my bed before I could get her back downstairs.” 

Your gaze softened just a bit as you processed his words, your brows coming together as you looked away, and he had a small feeling of hope that maybe he was getting somewhere, so he continued before you could say anything. 

“I slept on the couch and went to wake her up to get her to leave, and I thought she did when I was getting ready for class in my bathroom, and that’s when you came in and saw her in my bed,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck that still kind of hurt from sleeping on the couch with no pillow. “You should’ve never seen that, and it should’ve never happened, but I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her at that party.”

You looked back at him and slumped your shoulders. “Why did she call you?”

Bradley let out a humorless laugh, shrugging. “Because she misses fucking me and thinks that I’d throw away what you and I have for a forgettable night with her, which didn’t happen and will never happen,” he answered. “I know I should’ve pushed harder to get her out of here sooner, but I was exhausted and annoyed, and I didn’t even want to be near her, let alone talk to her. You have to believe me, Y/n. Nothing happened between Briana and I.”

He watched your eyes soften even more before tears gathered along your waterline, and you looked down at his bed. “Bradley, I feel so embarrassed about everything…walking in here and seeing her in your bed, in this bed, it just brought everything back. I feel like I’m not good enough or that I don’t give you enough,” you whispered and Bradley narrowed his eyes, but you continued, “Nothing happened? Nothing at all?” 

“Nothing at all,” he confirmed quickly, moving a bit closer to you. “And you’re more than enough for me. Everything about you is more than enough. You make me a better person just by being in my life.”

The look you gave him was one he’d seen many times before, your eyes no longer guarded and distant. “Really?” You mumbled, reaching up to gently caress his jaw, and he nearly groaned in relief. 

“Really, baby,” Bradley whispered, leaning into your touch. “There’s nobody else I want, only you. Tell me what I can do to prove it to you.” 

You shake your head and give him a small, shy smile. “There’s nothing to prove, Bradley,” you murmured, waiting a few seconds before letting out a sigh. “So…you don’t want to get back with Briana? And you and I…you don’t think we’re rushing this? We’re okay?” 

The thought of ever going back to Briana made Bradley’s whole body cringe, and he shook his head. “With Briana and I…there’s nothing left between her and I but bad memories and regret. No, I don’t want to get back with her. Why would I? I have you right here,” he reached up and stroked your bottom lip with his thumb. “And no, I don’t think we’re rushing anything. I feel like I’ve known you for years, that’s how much you’ve impacted my life already.”

You nodded slowly, then gave him a guilty look. “I’m sorry that I said I wasn’t over Luke,” you whispered, moving towards him and settling down on his lap. “I swear, I’m over him. He doesn’t mean anything to me anymore. He was just my first boyfriend, that’s all.” 

Bradley smiled, because he didn’t believe for a second that you weren’t over that asshole, you were just saying that in the moment. “It’s okay,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to the side of your head as his hands gripped your waist, holding you firmly against his chest. “I know you’re over him, and I’m over Briana. I’m all in with you, alright? Just because you had some doubts for a bit doesn’t change anything between us.”

Thinking about it, Bradley probably would’ve lost his mind if he walked in and saw Luke in your bed, and there’s no telling what he would’ve done once the initial shock wore off, so he didn’t blame you for a single second for reacting the way you did. He trusted you, and he wanted you to keep trusting him. 

“Okay,” you said quietly, “I didn’t want to doubt you, Bradley. And I’m sorry I did, I should’ve listened a lot better.” 

Bradley grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “It’s okay, baby,” he rasped, “Let’s forget about Luke and Briana, alright? They don’t matter anymore. Only we do, right here and right now. Can we move past this and just start fresh?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips, and Bradley couldn’t believe how much he had missed this feeling in so little time. “Let’s take it slow tonight? Just…stay in here with me.”

Bradley grinned and nodded, resting his forehead against yours. “Sounds perfect,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss you again as he cradled your face. “Just you and me.” 

There was no way he’d go back to the party, not when he had you back in his room and on his lap after being convinced that he’d fucked things up with you beyond repair. 

“You and me. We’ll keep it PG tonight, okay? But tomorrow…” you trailed off with a teasing smile before you looked down at your jeans and your pretty crop top he’s seen you wear a few times now. You always managed to look so stunning every time he saw you. “Got anything more comfortable for me to wear?”

Bradley hummed and nodded, giving your hips a firm squeeze before setting you beside him on his bed. “Actually, yeah,” he answered, walking over to his school bag and pulling out the UVA hoodie he had bought this morning after class. “How’s this?” He asked with a grin as he held it out to you.

“You have one?” You asked in shock, taking the brand new hoodie from him with wide eyes. 

“I do now,” he answered, crossing his arms as he leaned back against his desk. “Though, I’ll probably never get that back now, huh?”

You shook your head as you tugged off your shirt and pulled the hoodie on, and Bradley bit his lip. It was big on you and it fell to your mid thigh, and you looked really fucking hot in it. 

He couldn’t believe he had managed to save his relationship with you. 

“You’re never getting this back,” you confirmed, standing up and shrugging off your jeans before stepping towards him. You reached out and unzipped his jeans, pushing them down his legs until he kicked them off, leaving him in just his t-shirt and boxers. “Comfy?” 

“Very,” he replied, smirking down at you as he tried to respect your request of keeping it PG tonight. “Suddenly I can’t wait for it to be tomorrow.”

You grinned, leaning up to press your lips to his before taking his hands in yours and pulling him with you as you crawled onto his bed. “Me either,” you laughed, kneeling next to him while he leaned back against the headboard and grabbed his laptop, the party downstairs now completely forgotten about by both of you. “Thank you for explaining things…I missed you.”

Bradley smiled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you down against his side as he placed the laptop between your bodies. “Thank you for letting me. Thanks for giving me a chance tonight,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your coconut shampoo he had a large amount of fondness for. “I missed you too, babes.”

You hummed quietly, cuddling close to him as if he hadn’t accidentally made you cry yesterday because of a total misunderstanding. “Wait,” you mumbled, looking up at him before down at his sheets. “You…washed these, right?”

Bradley snorted and nodded, “Of course I did,” he answered. “Briana made them smell like beer and her nasty fucking perfume. I’m still mad about that, because they used to smell like you.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his jaw as you tangled your fingers with his. “Well then…guess I’ll just have to stay with you tonight,” you whispered, then you were kissing him deeply, and Bradley kissed you right back. 

Just when he was about to forget about the movie that was playing on his laptop, you pulled away and pressed your cheek against his bicep. “PG, remember?” You teased, and Bradley let out a laugh, because he would gladly let you get away with things like that if it meant he got to hold you in his arms like this. 

The next morning, Bradley woke up to the feeling of your lips on his neck, your nose brushing against his scars as you slipped your hand under his shirt. “Baby,” he mumbled, blinking slowly when he opened his eyes. “What time is it?”

The sun hadn’t slipped in through the curtains yet, so Bradley knew it was still a little early.  “It’s seven,” you answered, pressing soft kisses along his jaw as you hiked your thigh over his waist under the sheets. 

Fuck, he didn’t need to be in class for another three hours, but he couldn’t go back to sleep now, because your knee had brushed against his cock, and he felt it spring to life at just that brief touch. 

He was so gone for you already, it was almost pathetic. 

Bradley had no idea what the state of his downstairs was, but he didn’t even care, because you had fallen asleep in his hoodie and on his chest, and now you were slowly grinding yourself against his thigh. 

“What do you want, babes?” He groaned, his hands grabbing your hips when you crawled onto him and straddled his lap. 

“I want you,” you answered, gripping the sides of his face as you ground your body against his. 

Bradley hummed, his hands sliding down to your thighs as he leaned up to press his lips to the side of your neck. “Tell me what you need, baby,” he murmured, “I’ll give it to you.”

“I just need you,” came your whimpered response as you reached down to pull off his shirt. “I need to feel close to you.”

Even though you and Bradley had only gone a full day without talking or touching, it was clear that it felt like way longer to both of you, because Bradley needed to feel close to you right now too. 

“I’m right here,” he mumbled, tugging at the bottom of his hoodie and pulling it off your body. His hands instantly went to your chest, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as he guided your lips to his in a deep kiss. “You’re so beautiful. Every inch of you is perfect.” He muttered against your lips and earned a soft moan from you. 

“Bradley, I want you to fuck me,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair as you pressed your bare chest against his. 

He pressed another kiss to your lips before nodding and sitting up, his hands reaching for your hips to guide you off him. “Okay, I’ll go get a-”

But then you shook your head and stayed on his lap, your eyes hooded and filled with lust and a hint of nervousness. “I want you to fuck me without a condom,” you added, and Bradley’s hands tightened on your hips. 

Fucking you without a condom was a serious step for the both of you, and he had never personally had sex without one before, so of course the thought of doing it with you had him harder than the wall behind him. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, his thumbs running along the edge of your panties. He wanted to make sure that this was something you wanted, and not a heat of the moment kind of thing, because the last thing he wanted was for you to regret anything with him. This would be only the second time you and he had sex, so he wanted to ensure that you really wanted this. 

With that being said, his cock was aching in his boxers at the thought of taking you completely bare. 

“I want to feel you. I’m on the pill, so it’s still protected,” you said, reaching down to palm him through the tight material that covered him. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay if I don’t want to, because I want to so fucking bad,” he said quickly, lifting his hips when you began to tug down his boxers. “I just need you to tell me again that you want to.”

“I do,” you mumbled, pulling down and kicking off your panties before settling back down on his lap with nothing covering your sinful body from his eyes. When your core brushed against his cock, his hips jolted and an embarrassingly loud groan left his throat, but you just grinned at him as you slowly guided yourself down onto him. “Have you done this without one before?” You asked, bracing your hands on his shoulders while he had to hold off on coming right then and there, because holy fuck this felt unreal.

You felt unreal, and Bradley tightly gripped your waist as he shook his head. “Nope,” he answered through his teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Never. Only with you now.”

The look you gave him was so sweet and sexy, he had to bite down on his lip as you slowly began to ride him. “I haven’t either,” you confessed, tangling your fingers in his hair. “But I’m happy you’re my first.”

Fuck, he wanted to be your only. You felt so fucking good, Bradley guided you to go a bit quicker as he pressed kisses along your neck. “Me too, baby,” he grunted, “Faster, babes.”

You moaned quietly, gripping the back of his neck as you lifted your hips and then dropped them, making Bradley groan rather loudly. “Fuck, it feels so good,” you gasped, burying your face against his neck. 

“Do you like it like this? Just you and me with nothing in between us?” He rasped, his fingers digging into your skin as you rode him so good and nodded your head in response. “You feel fucking perfect.”

“Bradley,” you whined, pulling back to kiss him deeply as he started to thrust up into your soaked pussy, the lack of a condom making you feel like nothing he had ever felt before. How he went from not knowing where he stood with you last night to fucking you bare this morning, he didn’t know, but he also wasn’t about to keep questioning it.

He was already impossibly close, and he was actually surprised he lasted this long since he nearly came when you just rubbed against him. “Fuck, you’re going to make me cum embarrassingly fast. You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, sucking a mark onto your neck. “Do you want me to pull out?”

You bit your lip and nodded, bouncing on him a bit faster. “Maybe for this first time,” you answered, and Bradley groaned again. 

First time? So this was maybe going to happen again? And if it did, you were going to let him cum inside you? Fuck, he was in heaven. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, rocking your hips against his, and Bradley had to force himself to hold back so you could get there first before he had to pull out of your addictive body. 

Your eyes rolled back as you pulled hard on his hair, and he felt you become even warmer around his cock as you came, loud cries leaving your lips as you lazily rode him. “Goddamn, babes,” he grunted, waiting until the very last second before he lifted you off him and came all over your stomach and thighs with a deep groan. “Fuck…”

You moaned softly, watching as he painted your skin white, a sheepish grin on your face as you ran your fingers through his hair. “That was a lot,” you murmured and Bradley let out a hoarse laugh, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. 

“Yeah, well, if you could feel what I just did…” he muttered, not caring at all that both you and he were now covered in his mess. He was just so fucking happy that you were still with him. “I’m sorry for what happened on Monday. I promise, I’ll never do anything to break your trust again.”

You hummed, draping your arms around his shoulders. “And I’m sorry for overreacting,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his scarred cheek. “From now on, no more running away instead of listening to the full story, and no more having your ex in your bed.”

Bradley laughed again and nodded, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “Deal,” he agreed, then rolled you onto your back and kissed you again.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jonathan Cohn at HuffPost:

Election Day is Tuesday. And while plenty of politicos and pundits are out there predicting what will happen, the reality is that … nobody knows. The polls are super close, nationally and in the swing states. Forecasting models see the race as a coin flip. But you can spot some clear storylines that say a lot about how the two presidential campaigns have unfolded so far, and that might even help explain the outcome after the fact. One of those storylines is the determination and enthusiasm of women who back Democrat Kamala Harris, including women who might be afraid to say so publicly because their husbands support Republican Donald Trump.

I first heard about this last week, in Michigan, while covering a campaign event for Democratic Senate candidate Elissa Slotkin. Slotkin said canvassers were reporting stops at houses with large Trump signs, where women would answer and ― when asked which candidate they were supporting ― would quietly point to a photo of Harris on the canvassers’ campaign literature. [...]

And though the movement appears to have started on its own and spread over social media, lately the underlying sentiment has been getting high-profile support from figures like former first lady Michelle Obama, who in a recent Harris campaign appearance said, “If you are a woman who lives in a household of men that don’t listen to you or value your opinion, just remember that your vote is a private matter.” Are there enough hidden votes to change who wins a state? Probably not. But the emotional fuel for it, the determination of so many women to elect Harris over Trump, absolutely could prove decisive. If that happens, it would be one of the more ironic twists in modern political history ― and one of the more fitting ones, too ― because a campaign pitting men against women is exactly the campaign Trump and his advisers wanted.

The Boys vs. Girls Election

It’s no secret that this year’s gender gap is shaping up to be the largest in memory, with polls showing men favoring Trump by double digits, and women favoring Harris by a similar margin. In many ways, that gap was preordained not because of who’s on the ballot, but what’s at stake ― the future of reproductive freedom, and one side that’s actively pushing to regress back toward restrictive gender roles and limited rights. But instead of trying to counter that, Trump has leaned in. On the eve of this summer’s Republican National Convention, even before President Joe Biden dropped his reelection bid and Harris became their party’s nominee, Trump campaign officials boasted about how they were hoping to create what Axios called a “boys vs. girls election,” with ”Donald Trump’s chest-beating macho appeals vs. Joe Biden’s softer, reproductive-rights-dominated, all-gender inclusivity.”

So powerful was this appeal, Trump’s campaign managers told The Atlantic’s Tim Alberta, that Trump would manage to peel off some of the Black and Hispanic men who would traditionally vote Democratic, enough to offset losses among women. “For every Karen we lose, we’re going to win a Jamal and an Enrique,” one Trump ally had previously told Alberta. The Trump campaign has unfolded just as his team promised ― which helps explain why, for example, Trump has spent the final weeks before the election appearing alongside former Fox News host Tucker Carlson (who recently suggested that the country needed Trump to be a “dad” who would deliver a “spanking”) while sidelining former South Carolina Gov. Nikki Haley (who has been popular with independent female voters). And the strategy may very well work. Polls have shown Harris struggling to hit the margins among Black and (especially) Hispanic men that previous Democrats have.

But the Trump gambit depends on winning over more men faster than he alienates women. And that’s hardly a safe bet. In just the last few years, the gender gap has been increasing at a faster pace than before, as my colleague Lilli Petersen explained recently.

[...]

The Backlash And Its Potential

How is this all shaking out?

Overall, according to a recent Politico analysis, women are accounting for 55% of the early vote across battleground states. And in Pennsylvania, a state that many strategists consider the most important for each candidate, data suggests that early voting includes a relatively high proportion of Democratic women who did not vote there in 2020. Early voting is a notoriously unreliable predictor of outcomes, for the simple reason that the data about who is voting doesn’t say that much about how they are voting, especially in an environment without solid baselines for comparison. Early voting did not become particularly widespread until 2020, in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic and with Trump advising his supporters not to vote by mail. (This year, he’s generally encouraged them to vote early if they can.) But women are a larger proportion of the population and, historically, they have voted at higher rates too. Last month, political scientist and Brookings senior fellow Elaine Kamarck ran the numbers on different scenarios to see what would happen if women came out to vote in the same proportion as in 2020, given the latest polling numbers available. She found Harris would win Michigan, Nevada, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin — enough to win the election.

Donald Trump got his wish of this election being fought on gender roles and reproductive freedom... but it won't turn out like how he wanted it to go.

Read the full story at HuffPost.

[thebreakfastgenie]

https://www.tumblr.com/thebreakfastgenie/766051466520690688/thats-exactly-what-im-hoping-for-too-im-voting

I think a deep flaw in the online left is that they're basically comparing the current far left with a far right wing that's made every effort to entrench themselves for decades by comparison.

They keep mentally thinking that both sides are equal in power, and thus the thing that will clearly help them succeed is the moral purity of their cause.

Except that's not the case at all. Because the reality is that the far right has done far more work to make their hate normalized than the far left has ever done for their beliefs and entrench themselves into actual positions of power, both due to a combination of cruelty being easier, and simply doing far more work by comparison.

The far right has spent years sticking their ilk amongst the populace, from the highest ranking positions to the lowliest high ranking positions possible in order to indoctrinate as many people as possible to their cause.

The far left by contrast has done diddly squat. They're the arrogant punk kid who waltzes in expecting to kick ass and take names and be lauded and praised for it simply because of who they are, while ignoring that either everyone is a neutral bystander who doesn't like grandstanders with more bark than bite, or an ally of the guy they're coming in to sock the face of.

And that's bitten them in the ass time and time again, because while the big evil guy is unpopular, he's also entrenched and just needs to win once to smack the upstart down.

But unlike actual main characters, the far left is so convinced of their righteous superiority that rather than wising up and building a real base of power and catching the far right off guard for a knockout blow, they just keep on throwing themselves over and over again with the same idea expecting different results.

Yeah... I think there's a combination of not understanding how asymmetrical it is and an attitude of "it's not fair!" Like, no it's not, so it goes though. We've watched the far right become so deeply entrenched they've taken over the mainstream conservative party. The right played the long game on the courts and the left was complacent about that for way too long. It's also a huge thing in local elections. The right has paid way more attention to school boards and other positions like sheriff that are elected in many places, even up to state legislatures. Far right candidates winning these elections really helped entrench the far right in addition to the material effects they've had on people's lives.

I think part of the problem is just that electorate is a lot more conservative than the left is willing to admit. There isn't a hidden groundswell of support for the far left. You have to do the work the hard way and a lot of leftists aren't willing to. You know that Contrapoints quote about wanting to "endlessly critique power?" She was right on with that. I think there are elements within the left that romanticize the perpetual struggle. One might say

He refuses to bend, he refuses to crawl And he's always at home with his back to the wall And he's proud of his scars and the battles he's lost And he struggles and bleeds as he hangs on his cross

On the other hand, a lot of voters like the far right and want them to win. They may not like them for rational policy reasons, because a lot of voters don't vote for those reasons (I know, it's maddening, but so it goes) but they like them.

One of the reasons I tend to align myself with liberals rather than leftists is liberals get stuff done. I've seen tangible progress from liberals within my lifetime. There are so many structural advantages favoring the right that it's a huge fight to keep them out of power. We can turn the tide but we have to do the work.

I don't know how much sense I made I'm a little groggy.

[darkacademicvibes]

You Owe Me

Fred Weasley x Fem!Lancaster!Gryffindor!Reader

Enemies to lovers, Fake dating

It's the fourth time in two weeks, and it's only Tuesday.

Adrien Pucey settles into the seat beside you, the same flirty smile on his face as his last three attempts at talking to you, and it takes everything in you to keep your glare of annoyance to yourself as you send Hermione at the gryffindor table your best 'can-we-please-have-a-tutor-session-right-at-this-second-i-need-your-help' stare, which she doesn't understand, of course, since you're usually so against studying.

"Hey gorgeous" you sigh heavily, barely glancing at him. "What do you want, Pucey" you mutter, hoping to merlin he doesn't make some revolting innuendo of some sort, you're trying to eat lunch for heavens sake.

"I want you to go out with me this weekend" he shrugs, and you turn to him, placing down your fork. "Look, Pucey, there's a nice way to say this, but I'm not going to be nice anymore. Leave me the fuck alone, I'm not interested in dating, sleeping with, or, talking to you" you state clearly, hoping it was exactly what he needed to leave you alone.

"Tell me one good reason why"

Hope is dead. There is no hope. Hopeless, that is his word, you will never say hopeless without thinking of this exact moment ever again.

"I have a boyfriend" the words practically tumble out of your mouth, and he immediately seems confused. Me too, pucey, me too. You think to yourself, because genuinely, what the fuck? No, you don't. Not that he needed to know that, because he was already standing up. "Right... uh, who, exactly?" He asks, and you panic.

"Look, we're trying to keep it to ourselves right now, yknow? We don't want anyone in our business, so if you could kind of... keep it quiet, that would be really helpful" you ramble, shit- literally - because at this point you are talking out of your arse. None of this is true, obviously, but if it gets him to leave you the fuck alone, then great, now it is. It's a lie, but it's true. In his mind, at least.

He pauses, "right." He mumbles, turning on his heel and leaving as you turn back to your meal, feeling particularly distraught.

"Y/n? It's time for our session-" Hermione Granger pauses, she's never seen you move so quickly, shoving bacon into your mouth and grabbing an apple turnover as you shove your things into your bag, standing up and grabbing her wrist with your free hand as you tug her along to the library.

What the hell happened since their last session? Y/n Lancaster has never once been the one most ready for their study session, it was always Hermione spending the better part of their scheduled two hours bribing her to actually open her books.

"I'm fucked" you state with a mortified groan the moment you make it to your usual table in the library, apple turnover in hand until you place it onto a loose piece of parchment, sending a suspicious glare to the wood of the library table. Who knew what tables couples had shagged on top of after sneaking in after hours for a bit of unsanctioned fun.

Hermione frowns, puzzled as she sits beside you, watching you actually open your textbooks. "What? What happened?" she asks, hurrying to tug her own books from her bag.

"Okay, you know how i've been bitching about Pucey asking me out and being all gross and stuff? Well he asked me out again, and I said no - obviously, like, gag - but he asked me why and I totally minblanked so I told him I have a secret boyfriend" you ramble, stressed at the situation you've gone and caused for yourself, because now you actually had to ask someone to pretend to be in a badly hidden 'relationship' with you to keep him off your back. Double gag.

She smiles, "oh, you do? congrats-"

"Hermione Jean Granger, you adorable, sweet, merlins favourite little gryffindor-"

"We're the same age-"

"-I am so greatful that you think I have such low standards and such high patience to date a boy of all things-"

"And we're both gryffindors."

"-But I am so single it borderlines on painful."

She's silent for a long moment, so long, you aren't sure if she understood you, and then, painfully slow, she begins to smile. And then a laugh bubbles out of her as you sulk, biting into the sweet apple turnover.

It takes a long few minues for her to calm enough to be able to look at you without laughing again.

"So now what?" she muses "You can't exactly keep lying and really expect to get away with it" she points out, and you fall silent, sending her a sheepish smile as she pauses, eyeing you warily.

"Y/n Gréine Lancaster, tell me you are not thinking about-"

You nod quickly, embrrassed.

"Y/n! That's ridiculous" she scolds quietly, and you groan.

"Trust me, I know... but I have to, I just want Pucey to leave me alone. He's been so convinced that i've just been playing hard to get- I can't take it anymore, 'mione, you even had to start tutoring me because i've been taking the long ways to class to avoid him in the halls" you insist.

She sighs, her gaze softening.

"I know someone you can ask, I'll talk to him" she promises softly. "He needs a date to christmas this year to keep his mother off his back anyway... a win-win situation is okay... right?" she asks softly, gently grabbing your hand. You nod softly.

"Of course, 'mione, thank you"

"Always, Y/n. Now.. herbology-"

"Oh god, must we?"

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Cartoon Movement

* * * *

A new way forward—for good!

November 5, 2024

Robert B. Hubbell

Nov 04, 2024

As we head into Election Day, I don’t want to tell you how to feel. Instead, I will describe how I am feeling. I hope it is helpful.

I am feeling confident because we have done everything asked of us—and more.

I am feeling confident because we have enthusiasm and momentum on our side.

I am feeling confident because Kamala Harris has run a nearly flawless campaign.

I am feeling confident because I know that women are determined to reclaim their status as full citizens under the Constitution.

I am feeling confident because Democrats have consistently overperformed the predictions of pollsters and pundits in every election since 2020.

I am feeling confident because pollsters and pundits have underestimated the power of the grassroots movement that has engaged tens of millions of Americans as never before.

I am feeling confident because of the professionalism and dedication of local Democratic Party organizations.

I am feeling confident because Kamala Harris has shown us a new way forward that focuses on the good in the American people rather than on their grievances and divisions.

I am feeling confident because I know that the new way forward that has emerged over the last eight years is a change for good that will persist and prevail long after we are gone.

I am feeling confident because I know we aren’t going back—no matter what happens in any race decided on Election Day 2024.

I am feeling confident because we are standing on the shoulders of generations of Americans who sacrificed their lives, liberty, and security so that we could arrive safely at this moment of opportunity and promise.

I am feeling confident because I know that we will ultimately prevail in the larger battle for the soul of America.

I know that we are not guaranteed success. I know that polls continue to show a race allegedly closer than any presidential and congressional election in modern history. I know we could suffer disappointment—but I also know that we can survive, endure, and prevail over any loss. We have done so before, and we can do so again.

In my moments of doubt and worry, I am drawn to the memory of 25-year-old John Lewis, who led 600 marchers across Edmund Pettus Bridge on Bloody Sunday, March 7, 1965. On that fateful day, state troopers cracked John Lewis’s skull with a club for daring to demand equal voting rights for Black Americans.

John Lewis could have given up when he awoke in the hospital with a bandaged and bloody head. He did not.

Two weeks after Bloody Sunday, John Lewis marched with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and thousands of others to complete the march into Montgomery.

Five months later, President Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act of 1965.

Whatever happens on Election Day, I am not giving up—and I know you are not giving up. It doesn’t matter whether we win a trifecta or suffer shocking losses, our work of defending democracy will not be finished. It never will be.

Yes, Election Day is critically important. But it is one of thousands of critically important days in the life of our democracy within living memory.

If we are fortunate enough to secure major victories on Tuesday, our reward will be that we get to do it all over again, starting on Wednesday.

Democracy is an ongoing, collaborative process. The good news is that we are working with one another to ensure that we preserve democracy for the next generation. I am honored to be working by your side!

Notes from the field (part IV)

Jill and I canvassed with Steve and Ellen Hill on Monday, covering 116 residences in Charlotte. It was a sobering experience. The areas we canvassed were economically depressed. We walked through some single-family home neighborhoods, where many homes were abandoned. Rental homes were dilapidated, with peeling paint and abandoned cars on the front lawns. But even in those neighborhoods, homes were being bulldozed at a rapid pace and replaced by two-story faux Cape Cod homes that would require substantial double incomes to pay the mortgage.

Especially sobering were the large apartment complexes that consisted of brick row houses surrounding a common area. The areas surrounding the apartments were strewn with trash and abandoned belongings left behind by renters who were forced out or moved on short notice. The bones of the old brick apartments were still solid, but window frames and doors were rotting. The residents of those apartments have been ignored and abandoned by landlords, the city, the state, and society. It is easy to see why some residents in those apartments feel hopeless and disconnected from presidential politics. And yet, we spoke to occasional residents who were strong and clear in their support for Kamala Harris and Democrats up and down the ballot.

It was disappointing that we were unable to speak to more residents. On the other hand, I felt that putting a door hanger on the front doorknob was a message to the residents: “We came to talk with you. You are not forgotten. Your voice matters. Vote.”

Jill posted a video on her blog that explains the technology of canvassing. See Every Day with Jill, Final Day of Canvassing: FOR KAMALA!

Concluding Thoughts

The astronomy photo below shows the Western Veil Nebula, a remnant of an exploding star. The early universe consisted only of two elements--hydrogen and helium, the basic ingredients of stars. On the other hand, humans are made of oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, calcium, phosphorus, potassium, sulfur, sodium, chlorine, and magnesium.

If the universe started as hydrogen and helium, where did the other “stuff” that makes up humans come from? Answer: From exploding stars. You are, therefore, made of stardust. Literally. Not figuratively. Not metaphorically. Literally. Nearly every atom in your body came from an exploding star.

So, as you anxiously wait for election returns, reflect on the fact you have the great fortune to be here in this moment because millions of exploding stars propelled matter into space that fortuitously, miraculously coalesced into you. How lucky is that?

Stay strong!

[kopikokiki]

444 (you're still blue).

— In which Elio breaks up with Kie. Her first move? To call her mom.

— Tags: @meistwentyinchheels, @calico-fleur.

— Likes & reblogs are appreciated! <3

NOW PLAYING: TV - BILLIE EILISH

Kie makes a point to call her A-ma with Kalo whenever she gets the chance to—but with how hectic classes have been, they’ve all agreed to keep it to one call every two weeks. It’s taken a bit of working around, but with Kalo’s eye for a meticulous schedule, they’ve managed to fit exactly one call every two weeks into all three of their schedules. The time varies, but it somehow always lands at a time when they’re all available to talk.

And maybe it’s the lack of sleep or the wave of heartbreak so overwhelming he’s clutching at his chest, but Kie might have forgotten that 2:37 in the morning on a Tuesday is not one of those times.

Still, her a-ma picks up.

“Kie?” And oh, the static of her voice is so sweet and familiar and unknowing that hearing it only serves to bring fresh tears to Kie’s eyes.

“A-ma–” Kie starts, voice hitching from how violently his hiccups jerk his body, “I— I–...A-ma—”

“Baby,” her A-ma murmurs, and there’s a rustling on the other end of the line; fabric, most likely a blanket being pushed aside. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

Kie likes to think he is a good child. He puts every modicum of effort he can summon into making sure his A-ma doesn’t have to worry about him—from patching up his own knee scrapes and memorizing which steps creaked along the pathway from his room to the medicine cabinet, to filling out all of his college applications alone and booking his own flight all the way across the country so she wouldn’t have to worry about taking care of it for him; he does all he can to make sure his A-ma does not have to waste more of her concern on him than she already does.

Kalo was always a little reliant on A-ma, anyway. Why would Kie want to give her A-ma someone else to constantly worry about the way she does with Kalo, even now that it’s grown up and a little more independent? How could she ever hope to be so presumptuous as to think her A-ma would take on that kind of responsibility without some kind of consequence?

How could he even dare to put that much more on her shoulders?

(How could anyone?)

…

But then again, these are outstanding circumstances. Unavoidable circumstances. The kind that would make someone call their mom at two in the morning just to cry about it.

And Kie, for all of her cautiousness and self-reliance, knows that A-ma understands those kinds of circumstances better than anyone.

Kie likes to think he is a good child.

Maybe this whole time, she’s been thinking wrong.

Because the way he lets a sob, unrestrained, gurgle from his throat and directly into the speaker of his phone as his body heaves over like the weight of the world is pressing down on his back—that is not something a good child would do.

“No, A-ma,” she wails, fingers digging creases into a sticky note covered in scribbled scars—a memento, a tribute to what she’d lost not moments before, “it’s— I’m not okay.”

A-ma is a good mom, though.

And maybe, for once, Kie can let himself be selfish enough to be grateful for that.

(It’s not like he has much of a choice right now, anyway.)

“Kie, honey,” A-ma says, kind but firm in a way that brings her a couple inches back to reality—not quite, but it’s there nonetheless and she knows it. “Talk to me, okay? What happened? Are you hurt, or—?”

“I—” A loud hiccup pierces through his sentence. Still, he claws away at the lump in his throat until it’s cleared enough for him to weep, “M– my boyfriend broke up with me. Five minutes ago.”

“Oh, Kie,” A-ma mumbles, her voice laden with the kind of sympathy only a mother could muster. “I’m so sorry, baby— what happened? Did he just leave, or–?” “He called.” Another hiccup, quieter this time. “I told him whatever he wanted to say, he could just say it over the phone.”

There’s a long pause—too long. “I shouldn’t have– but it…it would have hurt more if I had to look at him while he said it.”

Of course it would have hurt more. How could he have looked Elio—sweet, loving, caring Elio—in the face and listened to him say those words and pretended it was okay?

It would have been impossible.

“I can’t stay, Kie.”

“I know.”

“...I’ll call you. I promise.”

“I know.”

She had not known. Still, foolishly, selfishly—she had chosen to believe.

(Again, it wasn’t like she’d had much of a choice.)

A-ma is quiet. She knows Kie has more to say—how she knows, he’ll never understand. But he takes the opportunity to speak while it’s there; even if he’s barely getting the words out.

Her voice comes out meek—embarrassingly so. “A-ma, will—...will it be okay?”

He knows the answer.

He knows what A-ma tells her won’t be true.

He listens anyway.

“Of course, baby.”

And maybe that should have been enough.

Maybe she should have believed A-ma, then—believed that by some force of pure luck, by the sheer willpower that had carried her this far, it would somehow be okay. She would somehow be okay. It hurts now, hurts in a way she cannot hope to explain—but in her mind she knows that this hurt won’t last forever.

(Maybe he’d thought wrong about that too.)

“I don’t want to—” Kie starts, voice thick with unshed tears. By some miracle, with nails threatening to tear through soft sleeves and tear tracks bleeding into the corners of her mouth, she finds it in herself to continue. “I don’t want to miss him, A-ma. I– I loved him. I loved him so much and it wasn’t enough.”

A-ma hasn’t stopped whispering her comforts, voice a crackle through the tinny speakers of his phone. It soothes him, the way his A-ma’s presence always has—but the ache in his chest is making it so, so hard to breathe.

“I want to hate him,” Kie chokes out, a sob clogging up her throat again—louder, more insistent, demanding to be heard. “I want to hate him so fucking much. I– I wish I never met him!”

A-ma’s voice is tender, like a hug. “You don’t mean that, baby.”

Kie’s, in return, is tender like a bruise. “I wish I did.”

And maybe some part of him wishes he could hate Elio. Maybe some part of him wishes he could look at that stupid smile and those stupid eyes and the stupid curve of the knuckles lining his stupid fucking hands, and feel none of the staggering longing that crushes against his ribs like it’s trying to break them.

But Kie knows better than to rely on wishes.

“I thought—” she starts, mortified when her voice somehow splinters into several pieces, cramped within two little syllables. “I thought he loved me, A-ma, but– but he didn’t love me. He...he didn’t even like me.”

“He didn’t?”

“He called it off,” Kie continues, and all of a sudden the words feel like they won’t stop no matter how much he hiccups or sobs or tries to stop talking. “He’s the one who said it wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, that love wasn’t supposed to happen— that whatever I felt for him wasn’t supposed to happen– I told him I loved him and he told me— he told me to my face that someday I’d fucking move on—”

Doing her best to halt her words there, she heaves in a breath and tries to will away the piercing ache blooming near her temples. A-ma is quiet on the other end, but she’s listening. She’s always listened.

“I— I still love him, A-ma.”

The response, this time, is immediate.

“I know you do, baby.”

“But I don’t want to feel like this.”

“I know. It hurts, doesn’t it? I can’t imagine how heartbroken you must feel right now, Kie, and I am so sorry he did this to you.”

“He told me he didn’t care what happened last year. He said he’d stay– he’d stay with me, no matter what. He— he told me he loved me.”

“I know.”

“And I— I believed him.”

“That’s not your fault, baby.”

“Then why does it hurt so badly?”

“Because you still love him, Kie. Even if he doesn’t love you the way you love him.”

Another moment of silence. It doesn’t feel nearly as reverent as moments of silence usually do.

“...will I be okay, A-ma?”

“Someday, baby. Someday.”

Maybe, he thinks, that will be enough.

(Maybe, like all the other times, he’s thinking wrong.)

“I love you, A-ma.” “I love you too, Kie. Get some rest, okay?”

“I will. Goodnight.” “Sleep well, baby.”

The line goes dead. Kie kneels there next to her bed, surrounded by scattered sticky notes scrawled with at least a hundred little memories packed into the few study breaks she’d taken with him, and she does not cry because maybe if she can will away the tears, it’ll feel okay for as long as she can hold on.

(Maybe.)

[fated-mates]

Elda Minger was the first romance novelist to put condom use on the page. When we spoke to her about the choice she made, she told us about the realities of the world before Roe, when abortion was neither safe nor legal. This remains one of the most powerful conversations we’ve had on Fated Mates, and we are so lucky that Elda came to talk to us.

As we watch women die throughout the country in the wake of draconian abortion bans, we hope you’ll listen to Elda, and make a plan to vote for this Tuesday.

-

Transcription:

I remember the reason I put in the condom, and this is funny 'cause I hadn't thought about this in years, this will sound like the Stone Age to you guys because you're much younger. I grew up in a town, I went to high school in a town of 1200 people. It was still very much a, I would call it a boy's town, like lots of hunting, fishing, ice fishing, skiing, sledding. Women were, you know, married young, had their kids and kind of disappeared is the only way I can put it. They disappeared. And marriage, I remember Jessie Bernard once said, a sociologist, she said, "Marriage is a great deal for men and children, but not so great for women." And I remember reading that and thinking, "Yep." When women did not have access to birth control, and biologically, the sex drive is strong. I had numerous friends who got pregnant, and back in the day, there was no abortion. If you could find a doctor you could go, you could get someone to do the job, and then if you started bleeding out, you went to the emergency room. And I had two friends, older sisters, they told me later on, it was like the most terrifying experience of their lives, which is why abortion must always be safe and legal. But you had two choices. And I had two girlfriends in high school who, their beginning of their senior year or summer of their junior year, whatever, they went to visit their aunt, and they came back and they looked gutted. And I never forgot the look in their eyes, like dead eyes, because they had had their baby and given it up for adoption, because that was the option or you cornered the guy and married him, and if he thought he was trapped, it was not a good marriage, and it usually ended up in divorce. So birth control back then, I worked at a drugstore and the condoms were in a glass case behind the pharmaceutical counter. You could only buy them if you were married. This is how bad things were. You know, when I look back, it's like God, it was like the Stone Age. But the thing was, I couldn't in good faith, and all the romances, the historicals of course, they would have sex and then she'd be pregnant and there'd be a big brouhaha, but in the end he would love the baby. But with a contemporary I thought, "I can't do this. I can't do this." And I had interesting parents because my mother is from Puerto Rico, staunch Roman Catholic, could not have the sex talk with me. So my dad was like, "This is very embarrassing, but we're going to have the sex talk, and I don't think I can look at you while we do this, but you need to be protected." And I remember he told me, "Teenage boys will do anything. They would do a knothole in a plank. You have to understand this about male nature. And he said, "They will tell you, "I love you." They will promise you the moon and you are a very romantic girl, and you will have sex with him. And Monday morning he will be telling all his friends at school and you will be brokenhearted." And that did happen to one of my girlfriends, where she gave it up to a guy, and she was the town pump for the last two years of high school, and she never had a boyfriend because she didn't dare. And I remember thinking, "God, that's awful!" But you know, my dad taught college and he said, "Many a woman's college career was derailed because some guy said, "I love you. I'll be with you forever." And she ended up raising the baby with her and her mom and dropping out of school. And he said, "I don't want that for you. I don't know how more plainly to put it." And I was like, "Got it, Dad. Got it." Because he was pretty, I mean he said, "I don't expect you to be a virgin when you're married. It's different times, but pick a man who likes women." And I was at 16, so stupid, 14, "Daddy, all men like women." And he's like, "No, they don't. Pick a man who really does like and treasure women." So when I approached Untamed Heart, I thought, "Okay, I've got to somehow put birth control into it." And I said to Vivian, "Can I do that?" And she said, "If you can figure out a way to make it work, I'm all for it."

[constellation-skirmishes]

always two, there are.

[miraculousbumbble]

Training

Kolivan: Having the will of a Galra is not enough to defeat a Galra. Get back up and do it again.

Keith: I'm trying

Kolivan: Trying never solved anything, doing is the only way to survive. Again.

[candycryptids]

😇- What's their best trait?

👿- What's their worst trait?

for Tuesday and Chuu

“Miss Chuu’s best trait? Mmm… You said this is an interview for your retelling of the Warriors of Light and their journey, right? I’d say it’s her unshakeable resolve. She decides she’s going to do something, and she doesn’t give up until it’s done. Ah… I’m not allowed to speak more on Miss Chuu without her presence, my apologies, mister Levraut.”

“You broke into my house,”

“Your lovely wife let me in actually,”

“To wake me up from my nap and interrogate me on my assistant,”

“Interview, Mademoiselle, not interrogate. Though I am sorry for waking you, your eyes were open so I assumed-”

“Ah-ta-ta. You wanted to know Two’s best trait right? Adaptability. Any environment, any obstacle… he’s got brains enough to figure the way through most anything. And failing that? He knows a top notch engineer in Magitek to kit him with the right tools to overcome his few shortcomings. Hey wait did you fucking call me a mad gazelle, you lop-eared scab?!”

“Thank you for your time, both of you. I have just one more question before I consider this interview complete and I let you both go back to your.. erm, busy schedules. What would you say is each others weakest trait?”

“I knew it! This IS an interrogation! Two, don’t-”

“Ah, that would be Miss Chuu’s paranoia, mister Levraut. Most of her other traits net positive gain,”

“Watch your mouth, Two.”

“That is.. ah, her paranoid trait has served to pull her out of many situations she would have landed in had they not afforded her foresight and caution to approach most situations.”

“Two’s worst trait is how I just can’t seem to keep mad at him when he finds and exploits loopholes in whatever rules I’ve set for him. And last week I asked him to bring me lunch, and he was nowhere to be seen for nearly six bells.”

“… Miss Chuu, if I may, you were in Azys La, and you called me via Linkpearl to bring you specifically egg sandwiches from the Bismark, even utilizing the Aethernet it takes time… and when I arrived at your last marked location you were nowhere to be found.”

[Duo Oc Ask Meme !]

[themyscirah]

Suffering more than Jesus atm (being a fan of 80s/90s Suicide squad in 2024)

[kira-light0]

Happy Trapper Tuesday everybody!!!

(Reference + closeups under the cut)

[httpiastri]

how about if... i just... don't do my work.....

[goofyguppy]

.

[imagine-nerd]

The fucking disconnect is so real.