#vetted according to prevs

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 8: Golden Hour

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: The sun sets on Bucky’s last week of the deal to work on your farm

Word count: 2,138

Content/warnings: kissing, cuddling, shaky voices aka holding back crying and emotions, avoiding a sensitive topic, drinking, pet name usage

Author’s Note: Although this chapter is kinda sad, I think it’s sweet to see how much they care for each other. You can really tell neither is looking forward to the separation but they’re both too stubborn to say something about it.

This is a shorter chapter, too, but I hope you enjoy! I’d love to hear your feedback!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky stayed on the phone with Andy for the better part of an hour to make sure he had all of the information. According to Barber, since the cow was given to you ‘in good faith,’ legally, you could keep it without being considered as in debt to Cole. That was a relief, and throughout the weekend, Bucky was being…well, Bucky. His normal controlling self, or at least as much as he could be while still under your roof.

All you wanted to do was enjoy your midday snack on Sunday afternoon before heading back out to do some minor maintenance work when he gave you an update.

“I’ve already gotten Jensen to set up an appointment with a vet who can scan it for chips or any nefarious devices to make sure we’re not being tracked or listened to.”

You stoped midway through biting your granola bar, gesturing with it out to the side of your house where the cow had been staying in surprise.

“Jensen? My ex, Jensen? You’re really working together? I thought you hated him. Fixing the cave wasn’t a one-and-done?”

Bucky shrugged as he looked through your cabinets for something to satisfy his cravings, already half-tired from starting to repair a shed with you and finding schematics for a porch swing. “Well, I technically do hate him, and it’s more like he’s working for me than us working together, but I saw how he’d give up anything to help you, and someone with that quality is worth keeping around.”

He finally settled on a cheese stick and a couple crackers before turning to face you. “Plus, the fact that somehow you don’t hate him helps a little, but I’m still gonna keep him in check.”

You smiled and nodded, throwing away your wrapper and going for another sip out of your water bottle. “Hm, I see. I hope that new training you sent him through will prove useful for the future. Seal his loose lips right up.”

Bucky stopped mid-chew, afraid to look at the knowing smirk on your face. You really were too perceptive for his own good. “Um, yeah. Be a shame to waste it on someone we don’t plan on using. Now hurry up and finish that water bottle. Gotta make sure you’ve got enough energy to finish the repairs on that shed this afternoon so your little cow has a place to lay her head outside. Plus, Curtis is coming over later to help me with a surprise and I’ve gotta make sure I’m ready for him.”

“I wouldn’t be worried about my energy, cowboy. Hope you can keep up.” And with a wink, you polished off your water and walked toward the door to slip on your boots and get back to work.

After a mostly restful weekend, you woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on Monday morning, the last of the month, the last of- no. You didn’t want to think about that. Instead, you took this early hour as a chance to be productive before you had to get Bucky up. A chance to fill your mind with anything but that thought. You figured you’d get a jump on gathering the eggs. You had time to make a breakfast casserole, that could be good. And then do the crossword from yesterday you hadn’t touched? And maybe read? Really, anything to keep occupied before you had to face the music.

Before you knew it, the oven beeped to signal the end of the casserole’s bake time. You pulled it out and slipped off your oven mitts, running on the cool wooden floors in your socked feet to the staircase and going up to Bucky’s room.

You lightly knocked on the door and cracked it open to see a lump tangled up in the old comforter. As you slowly crept forward over the creaky floor, you could just barely make out the rise and fall of his body. You hated to wake him as he looked so peaceful, but it was time for work, and sleeping in any longer would just postpone the inevitable and waste your valuable time together.

You took a seat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his shoulder gently. “Jamie, rise and shine. Time to get going.”

He groaned and rolled over, squinting at you through the one eye he could pry open.

“Hmmmm. Honey, didn’t I earn an extra five minutes? I’ve been so good and done all the shit you’ve asked of me lately.”

You let out a breathy laugh at his gruff morning voice as he reached out for you, throwing his arms around your hips and shuffling to place his head in your lap. You stroked his hair, basking in the early morning moment.

“Watch your tongue, but yes, you did, and I gave it to you fifteen minutes ago, so get up and ready for the day.”

Bucky grumbled lowly against your jean-clad thigh. “Fuck off, Steve.”

You remained silent until he turned his head up to look at yours at the lack of response. Bucky’s tired eyes were met by your firm warning glance, causing him to backtrack immediately.

“Um, sorry, I, uh… I meant of course, honey, excited to start my ….” His voice began to shake. You could’ve finished the sentence for him. You knew what he was going to say. His last week on the farm. But you didn’t. You didn’t finish his sentence because you didn’t want to hear it either. You simply patted his head and nodded, your eyes slightly more watery than before. You tried to play it off as a yawn before gently lifting him from your lap and standing again.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Your attempt at a snarky reply came out as a whisper, caught somewhere in your throat, where you attempted to clear it out before starting again. “Breakfast is already cooked, just cooling right now. I’ll go ahead and serve it up. I hope you’re dressed and ready, downstairs before it gets too cold.”

By the time Bucky had the chance to process your words and demeanor and nod, you had already turned around and headed back downstairs.

Besides the successful vet appointment, the rest of the days of the week were quite similar to the way Monday went, although Bucky kept getting up earlier, and pushing you to stay up later, not wanting to waste a single second with you.

The farm work went smoothly, much faster than you had recalled your first weeks with Bucky being, considering he couldn’t do a single thing without you by his side back then. The two of you still worked alongside each other, but now it made everything go twice as fast instead of creating roadblocks.

The fields were getting long enough to make hay bales, so you officially got to take Bucky up into the big green tractor and show him the way to properly weave and maneuver through the fields to cut it, turn it, and bale it. You didn’t miss the way he smirked when you told him the piece of equipment you’d be using for the job. That song, ‘Big Green Tractor,’ had played several times in the bar and it didn’t take too long for Bucky to catch on to the innuendo, but he didn’t do anything about it…yet.

For some of the other tasks, Peter came along, too, learning how everything worked. He caught on quickly, which was reassuring because you weren’t sure how things were going to be without Bucky by your side in the coming weeks. The increased speed on everything helped you to finish up earlier than usual, too, giving you most of the night for just relaxing with the two of them. Well, mainly Bucky, since Peter stayed out of the way when he could. You’d had enough time to hang out for a couple hours before dinner, then finish up the evening checks and milkings, and then go back to decompress before bed.

That gave plenty of time for you to go do something with Bucky, just the two of you outside of chores, outside of his scheduled phone calls, to just be. And then each night, after you changed into pajamas, Bucky crawled into your bed with you, his arms wrapped you in a tight embrace, holding lazy, yet deep conversation until the first one between the two of you fell asleep.

This new arrangement with no signs of Bucky returning to his old quarters allowed Peter move into the house. Sure, it may not have been that exact room in favor of one of the other guest rooms, but you insisted that now that the rest of the crew had finished up their work in the mines, there was no sense in him staying alone in the barndiminium. Especially if he was to be here for the foreseeable future.

Another night, another chance for you and Bucky to enjoy the sunset out in the rocking chairs, facing west. Except, Bucky wasn’t the biggest fan of any sort of seating with armrests that might block your closeness, so the two of you sat pressed up against each other on the front porch swing, the surprise for you that Curtis had come over to help Bucky build earlier in the week.

You weren’t all alone in these moments, though. Sure, all the people around you knew to stay away and give the two of you privacy in these times, but it was different for the farm animals. As you leaned back against Bucky’s chest, his arms around your waist and head tucked over your shoulder, satisfied yet worried thoughts filling your heads, the two of you would laugh as the sheep and cattle dogs would run up to you, accompanied by the mini highland cow that you’d decided to let Decks name the next time she visited.

The week had flown by already, full of nights like this, the two of you sitting in the glow of the golden hour that Bucky would surely miss in the city, sharing kisses and everything you could think of.

The air was just cool enough on Friday night when the sun went down to make a bonfire. Cherry had the night off for once, so Curtis had brought her over for a small picnic in one of the fields before joining the two of you by the fire.

You and Bucky had made an ice bucket of beer for the occasion, sipping lightly throughout the easy conversation, your back to his chest as his was against a log, the both of you sitting on an old quilt. Curtis and Cherry were doing the same as you got to know the girl who seemed to be stealing his heart.

“So Houston, huh? How do you feel about here?” Bucky gestured across the fire to her with his bottle.

“Yeah, kind of glad to be out of there, though. Have some time to take it slow away from the city, ya know? What about you? You’re not from around here either, right?”

You did your best to hide your wince at Cherry’s response. Sure, she was just being nice and holding genuine conversation. You couldn’t blame her for not knowing the way you and Bucky were trying to ignore any topics that even came close to his departure or what he was doing here in the first place.

Bucky was much better at hiding his true emotions, though, a product of his livelihood. “Yeah, city life has been good to me. Doesn’t mean I don’t love it out here just as much, though. I think I’ve gained a whole new perspective on this place and the people just from a month.” He gave a small smile with his response which Cherry returned with a nod before Bucky leaned forward to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“I feel that. I kind of already feel at home. But you’re not sticking around, right? Curtis told me this was one of your last nights in town.”

There it was. She said it out loud, creating a pang of pain in both your and Bucky’s chests. He cleared his throat, throwing a quick glance at his stoic pal across the fire, and Curtis seemed completely unbothered. Perhaps he wasn’t aware of how much you and Bucky cared for each other. And maybe he was right for that. As soon as Bucky left, he had to go back to his normal, busy schedule that poor Steve had been maintaining this whole time, and then some. Bucky wouldn’t have space in his schedule to come back here or worry about you for anything but business, right?

You let out a shaky breath as Bucky rubbed his hand along your side, responding just barely loud enough to overtake the crackling fire. “Yeah.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: when things heat up to be pulled apart…I’m sure there a scientific term for that (entropy?)

Series Taglist: @scuzmunkie @openup-yourmind @vicmc624 @hawkeyes-queen @blackhawkfanatic @morgthemagpie @buckybarnessimpp @calwitch @thesarcasmqueen-22 @mrsnikstan

[poppyseedspshelpmesleep]

Nvm I can't wait, here's chapter three now. Happy Birthday Kakashi! This chapter's my personal fav as of yet lol.

< Prev _ Next >

The Chosen One

Chapter Three | Zoomies

The first time it happened, Sakumo was out on a mission. Unwilling to leave his son alone with someone random for any length of time, he'd vetted through people until he came up to Jiraiya's trusted apprentice.

Thirteen year old Namikaze Minato. High level chuunin, a genius by all accords, and now tasked with watching over a three year old Kakashi. The poor sod, still unknowing of the absolute chaos that was about to ensue.

—---

The moment the door closed behind the illustrious White Fang, Minato mentally reassessed his initial impression of little Kakashi being angelic.

Watching a rather- worrisome glint appear in the toddler's eyes, he couldn't help but think back on to his teacher’s 'tales of caution.' At the time they were told, Minato had dismissed them.

Now, though… What could only be a devilish grin formed behind Kakashi's mask, and Minato gulped. Intimidated by a three-year-old, Kushina would never let it go.

Minato smiled a sunny smile and crouched down to meet Kakashi at eye level.

"So, I hear you like summons?"

The boy's eyes gleamed, and Minato couldn't help but think that maybe- maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

////

Things had been going fine, really. The first day saw them getting acquainted, and the first night wasn't too troubling. It was the second day that plucked at Minato's senses.

For, the second day, Kakashi had slept. Slept all through the morning, woken briefly at noon to nibble on- something, Minato didn't get to see what, slept through the afternoon and into the evening, to the point that Minato decided he'd head over to the hospital should the behavior continue onto day three.

As night fully set in and the moon rose in the sky, Minato had nodded off in his position watching over Kakashi's prone form. The boy had laid on the couch, as he had the previous night, presumably so he could be there to greet his father when he arrived. It was sweet.

What wasn't sweet, was waking up at 1:30 am to the sound of falling pots and pans. Minato hadn't even heard Kakashi leave the living room!

When he made his way to the Kitchen, Minato was greeted to a floor covered in different cutlery along with the aforementioned dishes, as well as left overs from the previous day.

That would be a pain to clean up.

A bang from the study and Minato realized he hadn't seen Kakashi in the kitchen. Was there an intruder? Was someone attempting to kidnap the White Fang's son?!?

Now on high alert, Minato creeped along the hallway towards the source of the falling objects.

Sliding the door open discreetly, he was witness to a mess of disorderly books and what looked suspiciously like a crater on the far-most wall.

Feeling decidedly put out, Minato slowly looked up, the feeling of trepidation only growing.

There, on all fours like some eldritch horror, hung Kakashi from the ceiling, mask in place but eyes glowing like no human's should.

The sound Minato let out at the sight is one he would vehemently deny to his dying days.

Little Kakashi scuttled back and forth along the ceiling like a spider, eyes eery in their shine. That was not normal, Minato thought, trying not to panic. Was the boy possessed? Oh Kami, what would he tell Sakumo-san? What would he tell Jiraiya-sensei? He should've just accepted Kushina's invitation to explore the forest of death, that would have surely been better than-

Kakashi dropped. Minato stopped breathing, watching as the boy remained on all fours, eyes trained on him. This was it. This was how he was going to die. Defeated by a three year old. What a way to go.

Kakashi moved and Minato could only watch as the boy turned into a blur- skirting around him and into the hall, bangs and crashes following his wake.

Needless to say, Minato did not get any sleep that night.

////

The second time it happened, it was afternoon. The sun was high in the sky, only just beginning its descent, and Minato was thoroughly enjoying the 'apology picnic' Sakumo-san had invited him to for the trouble he'd faced in watching Kakashi last week.

The three sannin were also there, because Jiraiya wouldn't stave off a chance for free food, Tsunade because Sakumo had grown concerned after Minato's tales of Kakashi's behavior, and Orochimaru because he was a true gossipmonger behind the calm demeanor and seemed to have some slight against Minato.

(In his defense- Minato really hadn't meant to drop all that toad oil on him! It was just- bad timing, and maybe, slightly, Jiraiya's fault, not that Minato would admit that to his teacher's angry teammate.)

Kakashi had been lazing around, and really, Minato should've remembered to mention that the boy had been asleep the entire day before his bout of insanity. Could a three year old be insane? Was it…genetic? Side eying the older Hatake, Minato missed the moment Orochimaru tensed and took a step closer to Tsunade.

What Minato did not miss, was Jiraiya's face turning from gleeful to absolutely baffled as what could only be described as pattering sounded to their left.

Now clinging onto the tree he'd previously been napping under was Kakashi, eyes wide as he stared back at them

Minato gulped. "Oh no," he knew that look.

What proceeded was fifteen minutes of Kakashi zipping past four of Konoha's best jounin, too fast for them to catch.

It was like the brat toddler was corralling them, with the adults all ending up in a group and Minato isolated off to the side.

Minato would not be able to deny the scream he let out as Kakashi charged at him, his speed providing a mighty strength to the collision

////

"Zoomies. It's rather command amongst the Inuzuka and some other less known clans of- let's call it wild descent." Said one of Tsunade's old mentors from the hospital.

The greying doctor turned to Sakumo. "If I recall, you portrayed similar behaviors when you were young."

Sakumo blushed. "I'm…afraid I wouldn't know."

"It's just a way for excess energy to be burned off, nothing to worry about."

Tsunade hummed. "I imagine the life of a ninja would provide a sufficient enough outlet that these 'zoomies' become less prevalent?" She gave Sakumo a look as she said this, while said man ignored both her and the glances Jiraiya and Orochimaru exchanged.

Minato just wanted to get away from what was rapidly becoming clear to be a band of crazies. Then Jiraiya placed a hand on his shoulder and he realized it was too late. Then he thought to Kushina's wild grin and decided perhaps crazy wasn't so bad.

"Perhaps… I should look into getting Kakashi into the academy early, he's already stated he wants to be a ninja, and it could help him catalyze that energy into something productive."

Tsunade frowned and opened her mouth to day something, but Minato wasn't listening. He couldn't help feeling dread spread down his spine at Sakumo-san's suggestion.

Perhaps, Minato decided, it would be beneficial if he worked on his speed.

[dlxxv-vetted-donations]

Now officially vetted as entry #85 on the spreadsheet by @/gazavetters (which is made up of several vetted Palestinians).

Old unofficial vetting:

This campaign is not vetted yet but there's evidence of legitimacy from social media. RIS is clean according to prev tags, but this should NOT be used as evidence in itself.

Linda allowed me to share her Instagram @/lenda_abd_elhadi, which she has proven to be her account (proof under cut). The account contains many photos from before October 7, 2023 involving Arabic text in the pictures. However, I wasn't able to match Linda and her family there to ones on her Tumblr/gfm due to sparse images of the latter. I cannot confirm that there's evidence of her being Palestinian on her Instagram account before Oct 7.

Disclaimer: I personally believe this is legitimate based on the evidence, but I'm not an official vetter so please use more of your own judgment. I encourage you to find/share more verifying info on this campaign, rb, and donate if you feel comfortable. All GFM donations are protected, meaning you can request a refund with reason.

Tagging random ppl. I'd really appreciate a share and donate if possible. Want off my 'mailing list'? Please message me!

@bonecodoposto-45 @transhitman @averagenotnormal @aners @wellsbering @crash0131 @timogsilangan @chainsawl @myceliacrochet @yellowis4happy @itsnothingofinterest @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @yetisidelblog @devilofthepit @foamingatthemeowth @comrademango @retvolution

‏Don't stop helping🫶🍉

‏🛑🚨 stop ‼️‼️

‏Dont skip, please help🚨🚨

Since the beginning of the war until now, I have been displaced 10 times. All that time, I was alone, away from my husband who stayed in our home in the north. When I was displaced first time, I was pregnant with my first child, and due to the circumstances of the war, the lack of food and medicine, the poor psychological state, and the intense fear, I lost my fetus. It was the most difficult moment of my life at the time.

Please donate or share video ⛳️🍉🍉🚨

[cellohum]

Dear Friends,

I write to you with tears in my eyes and a heavy heart. After 188 days of displacement, constant fear, and struggling to survive, we managed to escape with our lives and reach Egypt. But the pain didn’t stop there. Just yesterday, we lost my children's grandfather 💔, not due to direct war, but because of malnutrition and the lack of basic life necessities. We couldn’t save him, just as we couldn’t save our home or our dreams.

The rest of my family is still trapped in the war, suffering the same harsh conditions that led to the passing of my children's grandfather. We are here trying to build a new life, but we have lost everything. We lost our home, and my children were deprived of their schools and universities. Even my eldest son, who worked so hard to build his future, lost his job and saw his dreams shattered.😔

We are now in desperate need of your help. We seek to secure a safe home that will provide us and our children with basic needs. Life in Egypt is extremely difficult, and prices are soaring beyond our reach. All we ask for is a chance to rebuild our lives and secure a better future for our children.🙏🏼

From the depths of my heart, I ask you to stand by us in these difficult times. Your support means hope and life to us.🙌���🇵🇸

https://gofund.me/59e9578a

$6,607 / $70,000

vetted according to this post (the account mentioned was their prev account, which got deleted), but the original message seems to have been deleted.

[stubbornjerk]

Why people keep telling you to block them if you support Pholo (Penumbra Edition)

Or: why jitterbug-juno really deactivated

I love when people categorize this as fandom wank. Really makes you feel like you’re putting the onus on either side of the conversation.

I’m making this post not because I want to stir up spoiled milk, but because I want it out there that this wasn’t a purity culture war.

The TL;DR version of this is that fans of color tried to tell Rab (prev. jitterbug-juno) not to post her Omegaverse (or A/B/O) fic. And instead of taking the L, she posted it on Ao3 and deactivated.

But, if you want context, well, buckle in. CW for mentions of racism and transphobia.

What did jitterbug-juno do?

Before I get into this I do want it out there that I will not be linking Rab’s fic, but I will show you this screenshot of the summary of it.

[ID: It is a screenshot of a fic, “As You Are” by Pholo.

Summary: Peter can hide his scent glands behind cologne; makeup; concealer pads. He can quash his heats with suppressants. He can divert the urge to nest and fawn.

But he can’t feign another gender’s subvocals. He lacks the anatomical capacity. Mag taught him to distract from his silence with fast, flashy words. For longer heists he relies on social convention. Traumatic mutism is uncommon, but remarked upon by enough war vets and soap operas to be widely recognized. Peter’s marks assume he’s been harmed long before they assume he’s a closeted omega. It would take quite the backwater brute to ask why he doesn’t murmur or chuff or growl.

On the 'Blanche there are the usual furtive glances. Juno makes clear to Peter that should he ever want “to talk about what happened,” he’ll be there to listen. The gesture annoys Peter more than comforts him.

‘Nothing happened,’ he wants to scream. ‘There’s nothing to talk about!’

There are 14 comments, 85 kudos, and 11 bookmarks /end]

You decide what you’re doing with that information, but honestly, I’d rather you don’t give it anymore engagement than it deserves.

There was a period earlier this June (yes, even though it’s only the 10th, at time of writing) when Rab was posting snippets of the aforementioned fic on her blog and tagging it appropriately, putting it in the attention of pretty much the entire Penumbra fandom.

What’s Omegaverse or a/b/o and why is everyone so against Rab for it

If you know what Omegaverse is, I don’t have to tell you why it’s controversial. If you don’t know what Omegaverse is, well, Fanlore said it best:

a kink trope wherein some or all people have defined biological roles based on a hierarchical system, with the terms originating from animal behaviour research. There may be werewolf, knotting, or other animalistic elements involved, or the characters may be otherwise purely human.

The term is generally written with slashes (a/b/o). Many fans, particularly ones from Australia and New Zealand, are uncomfortable seeing the term without slashes because it is also an Australian slur for aboriginal people.

I won’t get into the history or the heaps and tons of other discourses (mostly about fictional male pregnancy, homophobia, transphobia, sexual assault, etc.)  that go on within that. We’re here specifically on Rab v. Penumbra fans of color and we’re staying there.

Anyone who’s been in Penumbra enough to realize that everyone draws the Junoverse characters in a certain way knows that a) Juno is black, b) Nureyev is Asian, and c) as a fan you have to be aware of what you’re subjecting or saying about either of them because of the political repercussions that come with it.

And despite that, Rab proceeded to write Peter Nureyev, a gender nonconforming gay Asian male character that is widely headcanon’d as trans, into a fic using a kink trope that relies heavily on animal behavior.

Unlike most people new to fandom, Rab is aware of what Omegaverse is and is very much white. She is (and if she isn’t, should be) aware of the racist undertones that writing him in would get.

I couldn’t get a screenshot of what snippets Rab was sending out into the ether, seeing as a majority of my friends would rather not have seen any at all (I have all of the usual tags blocked so I wouldn’t have seen it either way), but needless to say, Rab got attention for it. Both positive and negative.

Anne (@hopeless-eccentric) even posted a satirical fic, in the odds that Rab was just writing this thing to be “the first” to write Omegaverse fic in the Penumbra tags.

But, I’m assuming more than one fan of color came into Rab’s inbox and messaged her about it, but someone I know (who would like to remain anonymous) was gracious enough to take a screenshot before he sent his in and let me use it for this post:

[ID: A message to jitterbug-juno about to be sent by a sender whose name is censored with a black bar. His messages says:

“as someone who is a person of color i think the nature of the fic you are writing right now is extremely racist and attributing animal characteristics to lgbt people of color is not at all appropriate, especially when you are someone who is white. i have to ask you to not publish this fic and to reflect as to why you would want to write this in the first place, these tropes are extremely harmful and”

There are 33 characters left to write into the message. /end]

I can’t speak for whoever else sent asks about the fic she was writing. If anyone was actually not-so-gentle with her, well, minorities don’t really owe it to you to be gentle about what they can tell is bigotry-tinged behavior.

But, the message was clear: this is different from your garden variety, lily white straight male character m/m kink fantasy. This is an actual queer Asian character that a lot of queer Asian people feel attached do. Do not post the fic.

What happened next: the beginning of the end

The next morning, I woke up to most of my friends being frustrated by this post on Rab’s account:

[ID: Dated 5 June, a post by jitterbug-juno:

“Gonna leave the fandom for a while. Wishing you all well.”

The tags say the following: not sure if i’ll be back, thank you so much to everybody who’s read my fics, and who’s sent asks or engaged with my art or any of that, you’re amazing and I’m sending love /end]

That... was not what fans of color wanted, but it was definitely an action they took. Some celebrated, as they were very much wary of Rab for having caused much of the same category of drama in fandoms like Voltron: Legendary Defenders and Warrior Cats. This also meant that she was probably not going to post the fic either.

Some, myself included, were relatively pissed, as they’d wanted even just the measly bit of accountability. An apology or an acknowledgement of having been called out in private and that they’ll take time to consider why. But instead we got Rab leaving in the face of fans of color telling her not to post her Omegaverse fic.

Well. The next day...

[ID: Dated 6 June. A post by jitterbug-juno titled, “Well... that was short-lived”

“I gave the situation a lot of thought yesterday. The reaction to my omegaverse previews made me figure I should leave the fandom. It seemed like the safest option.

But you know what?

Hell.

I don’t want to leave. The fic discusses the tropes of omegaverse and I spoke to several POC on Twitter, and I’m going to post it with plenty of tags so people can avoid it if they wish. I’m not going to be chased out of this space.

Thank you to everyone who sent messages yesterday. I shouldn’t have made that post about leaving. It was really reactionary. I’m okay and I appreciate your support so much.

(bolded on the post) To those who are angry and uncomfortable with me: Please block me. If you’re going to talk about this fic on Tumblr and Twitter– and this may sound odd– PLEASE NAME ME as Jitterbug-juno or Pholo. Don’t vague me. That way people who don’t want to see this discourse can add my name to their block lists.“ /end]

That certainly was short-lived, she wasn’t kidding.

This got a lot of outrage. Again, the fic is up on Ao3 and she has not taken it down. A lot of POC were pissed and I didn’t see a single fan of color actively support what she was doing, at least, not in my friend group. Everyone started making those posts to block them if you liked the fic or Rab’s content in general, in accordance to what Rab wanted.

Perseus (@mraudiodrama) noticed/pointed out that Rab deleted the part where she said she spoke to several POC about releasing her fic, as well as the part where she said she refused to be chased out of the fandom. This was an incredibly pointed detail to edit out, according to some.

[ID: A screenshot of jitterbug-juno's last post taken 11:00PM. Much of it is the same except the following bolded words are removed: "The fic discusses the tropes of omegaverse and I spoke to several POC on Twitter, and I’m going to post it with plenty of tags so people can avoid it if they wish. I’m not going to be chased out of this space." /end]

That same day, Rab deleted her blog. I actually caught this one on tape, believe it or not.

[ID: A screen recording taken at 12:01 PM of someone scrolling down jitterbug-juno's account. The posts and asks about Omegaverse and her post about leaving and coming back are conspicuously absent. /end]

Initially, I thought she deleted all mentions of it. I wanted to see firsthand if the rumors about her deleting portions of it were true. If she added things where she was saying that she wanted to write it because she was autistic and wanted Nureyev to be autistic too, regardless of the numerous QPOC telling her not to do it.

Instead, it turned out, she deleted her blog.

And now, we're here. The fic is still up. Her blog is down. Rab's public Twitter account @nataclinn is quiet about this. Her @cushfuddled Twitter account is on private after her run-in with the Warrior Cats fandom, according to a friend. And her Tumblr @cushfuddled account has nothing but memes.

Again, I didn't make this post to stir up drama. I wasn't even obsessively making this post as a call-out because she isn't in the fandom anymore. I just want it out there that this isn't a purity culture thing that got out of hand in a fandom as niche as Penumbra. This was a case of someone being called out and failing to acknowledge it before running away. And I want all that out of the way before I say:

If you are on Rab's side of this debacle, I, a queer person of color, want nothing to do with you either.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 33

This was a very difficult chapter to write, mostly because of the discussion of the death penalty involved.  I know it is a controversial topic, and trying to handle it in a way that worked was challenging.

Another panic attack in this chapter, so be on the lookout for that. Also, content warning for blood in a non-violent situation, along with discussion of injuries previously sustained.

The corridor was an uproar, and I wasn’t hesitating to contribute to it.  Conor’s voice was booming his objections as my sister tried to calm him down.  Xiomara looked both apologetic and harried as I argued with her.  Execution?  Earth had abolished the death penalty decades ago, with the establishment of the Global Parliament; how could the rest of the Council even consider this?  

She must have realized that there was no way to quiet us down until we said our piece, because Xiomara finally ushered us into the Council Chamber to stop the scene we were causing.  Once the door closed behind us, she took a deep breath and ran her hand over her hair. “Mr. Mac Maoilir,” she pointed to a chair. “I will hear you out next, if you have any questions.  No shouting, or you will be escorted from the room, immediately, do you understand me? You shouldn’t even be in here to begin with, so consider yourself extremely lucky.” Conor gave a tight nod and took the seat she indicated. She turned to me and her face softened slightly. “Sophia, please understand.  We had no idea that Galactic Law uses this kind of penalty, not when we felt so enlightened for stopping the practice on Earth.”

“Then why are we going along with this?” I demanded.  “I’m the person she tried to kill, and I’m the on objecting.  Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“Give us a better solution,” Xiomara begged. I was taken aback; Xiomara Kalloe was a strong, proud warrior.  She didn’t plead with anyone. “Talk through it all, pros and cons.  If you find a solution, we will try to convince Miys to consider it.”

I exhaled, trying to gather my thoughts. “Can we imprison her?” Solitary confinement for life was the maximum penalty back on Earth, Before.

“If it was just her, yes,” Xiomara nodded. “But there is a total of fifteen people involved, and we don’t have the space to lock all of them up.”

“I can’t imagine how we would isolate them, anyway,” I muttered. “Making them share space would be dangerous, because then they could work together.  Keep them sedated until we reach the colony?” I asked hopefully.

“And then what?” my sister spoke up. “Then they would be alive, able to sabotage our efforts to start over.”

“Ugh,” I groaned.  “We can try to rehabilitate them, don’t you see that?  Everyone deserves a chance to do this right.  We’re supposed to be the ones worth saving!  ‘Orderly, decisive, direct, practical’. That’s Arantxa. That’s why she’s here.”

“Yes, Sophia, that’s why she’s here,” Xiomara sighed and gestured to the room.  “According to the testimony of the others involved, she was a Baconist. High-ranking.”

Baconist. The people who triggered the End, and turned our shining achievement of FTL travel into weapons of a slow apocalypse. Today seemed to be the day for my breath to desert me.  “How high-ranking?” I whispered.  When she didn’t respond, my temper had all it could take. “How high-ranking, Xiomara!?” I shouted, making everyone in the room flinch.  I must have looked like a lunatic, and in that moment, I could not have possibly cared less.  “She came in my home, worked by my side for months, heard all of our stories about surviving the world her fucking people created, and never even looked guilty. How high-ranking was that heartless bitch?” I spat. Any sympathy I ever had for Arantxa was gone with this new information.

“We only have hearsay from the others,” a calm voice interjected.  Turning, I saw Grey approaching. “Sophia, I can understand that you are furious, and rightfully so.  However, the stress is not good for your recovery.” They pointed at my nose and held out a cloth.  I took it, only to discover that my nose was pouring blood.  “Please, take a seat.  Tyche, can you bring her some tea?  I would, but I am not sure how she takes it and I trust you to know.” Gently, they maneuvered me into an empty seat.  “To answer your question, the testimony of the others involved indicates that Ms. Bidarte is the highest-ranking member of their group on the Ark.  If that information is correct, it is immaterial what power she held on Earth.  Here and now, she is said to be their leader.”  Tyche arrived with a mug of steaming tea, setting it on the table and rubbing my arm comfortingly.  Grey handed me the mug as I moved the cloth away from my face.  “The bleeding has slowed, that is good,” they smiled thinly. Their calm demeanor and matter-of-fact tone were working magic on my anger.

I grudgingly took a sip of the tea, before trying to get back to the original argument. “Execution, Grey?  Are we really considering this?”

“She and the others tried to kill our hosts, and kill everyone on the Ark,” Grey stated. “She, personally, tried to kill you and came closer than I think you realize. Even with all the technology available, Miys was not entirely certain you would ever wake up.”

“Several people on board have killed,” I argued. “If we execute them all, I’m probably on that list.”

They only shook their head. “That was in self-defense, this was not in any way the same thing.  We were trying to survive.  They were trying to bring a complete end to humanity, the exact opposite of what the Ark is for.”

“We’ve had people in our history try the same thing,” I begged, a Hail-Mary if there ever was one. “We didn’t execute them.”

“Those people attacked ethnic groups, not the entirety of human kind,” Grey told me. “I’m certainly not saying one is worse than the other, but it excuses much in the eyes of history. Additionally, those who were imprisoned were old men, at the end of their lives.  The majority were actually executed, whether it was in the attempts to stop them, apprehend them, or by their own hands.  I believe, deep down, you know this makes logical sense, but you do not want to admit that.”

Dammit, they were right.  Part of me wanted her dead, but not for her crimes.  I wanted to see her punished for betraying me, my sister…Conor, especially.  “We are supposed to be better than this,” I whispered, mostly referring to myself.

“The Hujylsogox will not fault us for following the same laws as they do,” Grey told me.  “We will still go to our new home.  Miys has been very worried about you, as much as they tried to hide it.  They have also expressed feeling guilty for what has taken place, since they were the ones who approved everyone brought on board.  We have been over the data they had on each person involved, and there is nothing to indicate that they had extremist views.  In addition, only two are shown in the files to have even known each other Before.”

“I thought Noah vetted everyone before we were brought on board,” Conor ventured as he scooted over. Grey opened their mouth to say something, but he raised both hands defensively. “Tyche sedated me, cheeky thing, so no more yelling.” He pointed to a patch on his neck.  Grey nodded, apparently satisfied. He continued, taking the gesture as permission. “If we were all vetted, including them, how did they manage to get on board the Ark?”

“No one believes they’re the bad guy,” I answered mournfully.  “Think about it.  Before everything happened, a lot of people agreed with what the Baconists were saying: why should a bunch of rich people who refused to stop climate change allowed to be the first people to run away from it?  Hell, even I agreed with that part.  That doesn’t mean I agreed with the methods, especially not what ended up happening.  And we have pretty much no way to track what happened in the After, other than written records, and those are definitely not the most reliable sources.  Noah definitely isn’t at fault on this one.” I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on from all the emotional swings of the past few hours.  “Okay, when does this trial actually start?  The sooner it starts, the sooner it will be over with.”

“That’s it? You’re just going to go along with this?” Conor asked skeptically.

“The trial is happening, regardless of the punishment if she’s convicted,” I sighed.  “Do I like the idea of executing them? No.  And I honestly don’t think anyone in this room likes the idea.  Xiomara definitely didn’t look she was on board.  Eino comes from a country that hasn’t had a death penalty in over two hundred years, so I’m pretty sure he’s not on board with it either. Unfortunately, I can’t argue with Grey on the logical sense of it: those fifteen people tried to kill all of humanity.  Not even for the first time, it turns out.”  I blinked a few times as my eyes starting stinging. “This all just sucks.” I managed to choke out in a whisper.

He scooped me out of my chair and into his lap before I could protest, wrapping his arms around me like he had the night before.  “Yeah, it does,” he agreed. “But if you say this makes sense, even if you don’t like it, I won’t make this harder on you.  It’s bad enough as it is.”

I nodded weakly and sniffed several times before taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down.  I couldn’t even muster the energy to be embarrassed by the display we were making.  Finally, I calmed down enough to stand.  Glancing over at Xiomara, I nodded.  She gave me a weak smile and nodded back, understanding that I was ready to face this.

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[julia-charlotte-blog]

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[cellohum]

Dear Friends,

I write to you with tears in my eyes and a heavy heart. After 188 days of displacement, constant fear, and struggling to survive, we managed to escape with our lives and reach Egypt. But the pain didn’t stop there. Just yesterday, we lost my children's grandfather 💔, not due to direct war, but because of malnutrition and the lack of basic life necessities. We couldn’t save him, just as we couldn’t save our home or our dreams.

The rest of my family is still trapped in the war, suffering the same harsh conditions that led to the passing of my children's grandfather. We are here trying to build a new life, but we have lost everything. We lost our home, and my children were deprived of their schools and universities. Even my eldest son, who worked so hard to build his future, lost his job and saw his dreams shattered.😔

We are now in desperate need of your help. We seek to secure a safe home that will provide us and our children with basic needs. Life in Egypt is extremely difficult, and prices are soaring beyond our reach. All we ask for is a chance to rebuild our lives and secure a better future for our children.🙏🏼

From the depths of my heart, I ask you to stand by us in these difficult times. Your support means hope and life to us.🙌🏼🇵🇸

https://gofund.me/59e9578a

$5,528 raised of $70,000 goal. please donate what you can

vetted according to this post (the account mentioned was their prev account, which got deleted), but the original message seems to have been deleted.