#yeah this has been making so fucking angry

[lastoneout]

I keep thinking about all of the disabled activists and people before me who stranded themselves on the 4th floor of buildings for weeks and crawled up stairs and fought with airline staff and schools and doctors and refused to stop existing in the face of injustice and bigotry no matter how big and scary and hopeless it seemed. Every time I get angry and scared the protests that lead to the creation of the ADA pop up again and remind me that disabled people are so much fucking stronger than anyone has ever given us credit for, and I can't help but be proud of that. And I know not all disabled people feel like we should take pride in our disabilities and have flags or whatever, but I think not just living, but thriving, in spite of a world that wants us dead and gone, in the face of both illness and persecution, and how we've not only bought ourselves forward, but uplifted the disabled people around us, secured more equal futures for everyone who will come after, and truly changed the way so many abled people have seen us for the better is something to be damn fucking proud of.

We have always been here and we always will be, there will never be a world without disabled people because being disabled is not bad, it's a natural part of the human experience and yeah it sucks some times but even when it sucks we have fought to build beautiful, unique, happy lives with people, both like us and not, and that should be celebrated.

The first sign of human civilization is the healed femur. The body of the profoundly disabled person who would have needed help to even just eat being carefully laid to rest after decades of a full, happy life. The medicinal plants showing even before we were entirely human we were doing what we could to not just survive, but alleviate suffering while we're at it. Above everything, evolution selected not the baby who can walk and eat and be quiet, but the one that can ask for help.

Disabled people are not just angry cockroach motherfuckers who refuse to die, we are proof of humanity's HUMANITY. Proof that natural selection selected a species that takes care of each other. From healed femurs and medicinal plants to vaccines and IVs and insulin to now, we are driven to help one another, we are at our strongest when we don't leave our most vulnerable behind. And I am living proof of that. My mother is living proof of that. Every disabled and chronically and/or mentally ill person I know is living proof of that.

And I don't know about the rest of you, but will carry that shred of humanity's true nature inside me like it's my fucking soul. I am scared and angry and hurt, but I have a lifetime's experience being scared and angry, and I can shake off the kind of pain that would make Atlas crumble to dust like it's nothing but a stiff fucking breeze. Disabled people have always been here, turning fear and anger and pain into joy and beauty and connection, and I'm not going to let everyone who came before me down. I'm not going to give up. Not now, not ever.

It's okay if you're disabled and you've hit your limit, you're too scared and tired and hurt, I won't blame you. But I won't abandon you, either. I might not be able to right all of the wrongs in the world, but I'll be strong, I'll carry all of you with me, I will not give up.

As I've said before, society hates a cripple who won't die, so we must spite them and live anyway.

Please, live anyway. I know if anyone can, it's us.

[my-castles-crumbling]

prank - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 497

It's dark. The room James has been shoved into is small, and he can sense another person in the cramped space. Silently, he curses Sirius and everyone he loves, because for an extremely smart person, this prank is decidedly uncreative and inconvenient. But this is what James gets for letting Sirius take the fall for their prank last week so he could still go to Quidditch practice.

"Who's there?" he sighs, resigned to the fact that he's stuck there for a bit.

"Potter?"

"Regulus?"

There's a scoff. "Of course he'd lock me in here with you."

And James is a bit put off by that, because what's wrong with him in particular? "What's wrong with me?" he asks, frowning.

"You annoy me," Regulus retorts simply.

Rolling his eyes, James snorts. It makes him uncomfortable, to know how much Regulus dislikes him. It's been even more obvious than usual lately, and he hates it. "Probably why he put us both in here. Did you piss him off?"

There's silence, but it speaks volumes.

"Well. He's mad at me, too. Figures," James sighs.

They stand awkwardly for a moment before a thought pops into James's mind, so ridiculous that he laughs out loud.

"What, Potter?" Regulus asks, voice dripping with annoyance.

"Nothing! Nothing, it's just....wouldn't he be pissed if he came here to let us out and found the whole thing had backfired," James chuckles, knowing he's probably just making Regulus more angry, but picturing his friend's face.

Regulus makes a noise of confusion. "Backfired?"

"You know...like he finds us...dunno, snogging, or something!" James says it because it's a silly idea. Because it would never happen. Because he doesn't think before he speaks.

But as he does, the air suddenly thickens and Regulus doesn't laugh.

And then, time completely standing still, a cool hand touches his shoulder. "What if he did?" Regulus asks, his voice full of an emotion James cannot place.

"Well," James clears his throat, his brain suddenly foggy. "He'd...he'd be really...confused, I guess. He'd..."

"Hmmm....we'd turn the tables on him," Regulus murmurs, and James can feel breath fanning over his cheek.

But honestly, Sirius is now the furthest thing from James's mind. He's decidedly distracted. "Yeah..." he mumbles. "it'd be..."

Lips claim his, and his world completely tilts on it's axis. He's completely consumed by the way Regulus kisses him- with passion fiery enough to light the dark room they're trapped in. He chokes out between kisses, "-t-thought you hated me."

"I do. I think. Maybe," Regulus hisses into his mouth.

He stops thinking. Presses the other boy against the wall and loses all track of time. Hands and lips roam and his mind melts to the feeling of Regulus, the sounds of the younger boy groaning in his mouth.

Until the door opens, causing light to spill into the room.

"WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK?" Sirius cries, seeing the two of them intertwined.

But James doesn't even care. "Hey, Pads," he says, giving a shit-eating grin.

[eddiemunchem]

📄 what my dreams are made of | time and time again, eddie has seen you cry over guys that aren’t even worth your time; so, when he catches you crying once more, he decides it’s the last time — and he will show you that you’re exactly what his dreams are made of.

⚠️ 3.6k words, fem!reader, reader has a pussy, bestfriend!eddie, friends to lovers, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, kinda dom!eddie, passionate eating out, chubby!coded reader (no extreme graphic depictions but certainly alluded), bullying, some triggering themes, self-doubt that eddie smothers out, 1 thigh pinch, eddie cums in his pants (i was sick while writing this please forgive me if it’s not the best)

💋 i am genuinely so, so sorry for how long this took to get out bby! i always do my best to prioritize comfort reqs, as that’s my purpose for even taking reqs and really writing in the first place, and i wish i could have gotten this out much sooner. i hope this can bring you some comfort sweetheart, you are so so beautiful!! <33

you were so fucking stupid.

so stupid for being so naive. for ever allowing yourself to entertain the fantasy that the christian grosso could ever be attracted to you.

after all, the students of hawkins high dubbed you ‘the elephant amongst tigers’ for a reason.

angry tears slipped down your face as you threw your bag to the floor, uncaring of the loud thump it provoked. your mother was downstairs and likely heard it, and she’d probably even ascend the stairs and try to rib you for information — but you couldn’t find the energy to care.

you couldn’t find the energy to feel anything aside from angry sadness. and if your mom did come check on you, you’d simply tell her you’re feeling sick. yeah, that would work.

with a huff you plopped down on the edge of your bed, upsetting the stuffies strewn along the headboard. you gave them an apologetic wince.

your mind kept replaying the lunchroom disaster. christian’s mocking, mean smirk as he held up a dress two times too small for you was branded into your eyelids.

“oooh, i’m sorry. i thought this was your size. looks like we can’t make it to the dance after all. i’m so sorry.”

fresh tears burst from your eyes and you choked down a sob. it was so mean, so humiliating, so evil… you didn’t understand what you’d ever done to deserve something like that. was simply existing enough of a crime to warrant that kind of punishment?

a soft knock reached your ears. you sucked in a shuddery inhale. you were wondering when she’d amble up to your door.

“i’m fine, mom.” you croaked out. “i just feel sick. please don’t come in.”

you really didn’t want her to see the fat, ugly tears running down your cheeks. didn’t want her to see how blotched your makeup was, especially not when you had spent a literal hour perfecting it in front of your mirror.

so. fucking. stupid.

your door creaked open and you nearly gasped at the familiar clunk of heavy boots across your planked floor. you snapped your head up to find eddie standing just through your doorway, chocolate eyes rounded and soft.

“you okay?” he asked quietly, soothingly, and your heart sunk.

he knew about what happened. he hadn’t been in the lunchroom at the time, but you knew it would reach him; it was all the student body could talk about.

you opened your mouth to reject his sympathy; but what came out was a strangled sob, and eddie was rushing to your side immediately.

warm, thick arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into eddie’s equally warm body. your head was guided to his collarbone, so close to his neck that you could smell his sharp cologne; a familiar, cozy, thick woodsy scent.

he’d been wearing the same aroma since eighth grade, and it never failed to bring you a sense of tranquility and stability. comfort. safety.

you broke.

“eddie.” you choked out, digging your cheek into his chest and slipping your arm around his middle. he was warm; so, so warm. just like always.

“shh, it’s okay.” eddie soothed, ringed hand running through your hair. “it’s okay, sweets.”

your shoulders shook harder as you spilled gallons of salty tears into his shirt — his iron maiden shirt, if you weren’t mistaken.

you barely noticed the way he was rocking your body with his softly, or the weight of his chin hooked atop your head, but you were painfully aware of how good his hand felt skimming through your hair, and how comfortable the weight of it was.

“i-i don’t understand.” you gasped out between heaves. “i don’t k-know w-what i did.”

“you didn’t do anything.” eddie stated, voice firm yet gentle. “you didn’t do anything, angel. they’re just assholes.”

you weren’t sure how long you spent wrapped within eddie’s embrace; his strong arms holding you, soft voice shushing you, gentle hand caressing you — but at some point, your sobs had faded to mere sniffles.

you finally felt secure enough to pry yourself out of his embrace; eddie loosened his hold, but his arm remained over your shoulder — an anchor, should you need the support.

“i’m so tired of it, eddie.” you whispered, voice wet and croaky from all the crying. “i’m so tired of being ugly.”

your heart was breaking into a million pieces, yet also somehow felt as if it was too big to fit comfortably in your chest. every beat was painful, tightly wrapped in a ribbon of sadness.

eddie sucked in air through his teeth and muttered something under his breath; you weren’t quite able to catch it, so you nudged him with your elbow.

“i didn’t hear you, eds. what did you say?”

eddie’s eyes snapped up to yours, and you felt your heart skip in your chest. they were soft, yet had a hard edge to them, one that you couldn’t place.

“i said you’re not ugly.” eddie pushed out, anger detectable in his voice, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. eddie always became incensed when things like this happened.

“that prick just took things too far.” eddie seethed, drawing a ringed hand through his hair. “way too far.”

you swallowed thickly and nodded mutely, though you didn’t know if you fully agreed with eddie. after all, if things weren’t supposed to be this way, then why were they? it’s because everything, every single word and insult, that everyone threw at you was true.

“it wouldn’t happen if i wasn’t so—”

“don’t you fucking dare.” eddie snapped, cutting you off abruptly and shocking you into silence. he’d never taken that kind of tone with you. as if realizing this himself, eddie sucked in a deep breath and started again, much more softly.

“don’t say some shit about how you deserve it, or that it’s somehow your fault. it’s not. you know it’s not.”

fresh tears gathered in your eyes, and you had to look away from eddie quickly so as to not alert him to the swelling.

“but i was stupid. i let myself think he was genuine.” you countered back, wanting — no, needing — eddie to understand that in some way, this was your fault. that was the easiest way to explain it. that it was the only way that it made sense.

“stop that.” eddie ordered, fingers squeezing your shoulder. “you aren’t stupid.”

“eddie, i am.” you exploded, propelling yourself up from the bed and effectively launching eddie’s arm off of your shoulders. you began to pace as you rambled, “i’m stupid to think anyone would want me, let alone christian grosso, and i let myself get tricked into thinking that my crush actually liked me back—”

“i want you.”

the world seemed to screech to a halt right on its axis. eddie hadn’t said the words very loud — as a matter of fact, his statement was barely more than a whisper — and yet, it seemed to reverberate around your room like the boom of a bass speaker.

slowly, you turned your head to train your eyes on him. you searched his face, looking for some sort of deception, lie, fib — anything.

but all you found was pained sincerity.

“what?” you pressed, throat tight and tongue nearly tied. had you heard him right? were you having some sort of fever dream?

eddie sighed deeply and linked his hands together between his knees.

“i said ‘i want you.’ i have for a long time, actually.”

eddie’s words didn’t sound bored, or disingenuous, but they sounded almost… resigned. as if knew what little effect they’d have on you. twice. he’d said twice. yet you still couldn’t wrap your head around it.

“you — you… want me?” you parroted back, gesturing to yourself with a finger.

eddie nodded.

“are you sure?” you pressed.

eddie nodded again, more emphatically this time.

your heart was trembling in your chest — eddie actually wanted you? you? eddie, who was handsome, funny, charming, sweet, and completely and utterly unavailable due to his status as your best friend, wanted you?

no. this couldn’t be right. there must be some sort of mistake.

“but, how do you—”

“oh, jesus h. christ.” eddie suddenly bursted, pushing himself up from the bed and stomping towards you. you barely had any time to react before his hands grasped your elbows and he pulled you forward, and electricity shot through your entire body when he leaned down to press his lips firmly to yours.

the kiss was chaste, more of just a hugging of lips, but that’s how it was intended — eddie was getting a point across, and as hard as it was for you to truly believe it, you could feel it within that kiss.

the truth that eddie munson, your best friend of almost a decade, wanted you.

and that very best friend was kissing you. and it felt amazing.

your hands, as inexperienced as they were, traveled up to grip his shoulders, and you took the first step in deepening the kiss by clumsily lapping your lips over his.

eddie groaned and responded with a similar action; except, his movements were much more fluid and smooth, likely from years of experience in the field.

you hated the way that made jealousy burn in your gut.

eddie’s hands fell from your elbows to come to rest on your hips, where he gripped rather roughly. a sound similar to a moan slipped from his mouth and into yours, the sensation sending heat flooding straight to your gut.

“fuck, you have no idea how much i’ve wanted to do this.” eddie panted, kneading his fingers into your hips. “just grab these beautiful fucking hips of yours.”

your stomach swooped and your skin flushed beneath his words; you felt slightly self conscious of the portion of body eddie was grabbing, but eddie seemed to fall absolutely feral over it.

his lips remained hooked to yours as he stumbled backwards, pulling you with him. you followed blindly along with him, loathe to break the hot, wet embrace between the two of you, and nearly gasped when eddie fell flat to the bed and pulled you down with him.

“eddie!” you exclaimed softly into his mouth when you realized you’d landed on top of him, but when you tried to scramble off, eddie wrapped his arms around your midsection.

“don’t even think about it.” eddie murmured, voice little more than a growl, “stay on top of me, pretty girl.”

you whimpered low in your throat, the sound swallowed by eddie’s fiery lips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wiggling in his hold. you didn’t feel comfortable like this, not in this position—

eddie rolled his hips up and completely cut off your train of thought; poking into your tummy was something hard, something hard and located between eddie’s legs.

“feel that, angel? feel what you’re doin’ to me?” eddie growled, rolling his hips in lazy thrusts. that heat in your gut intensified, and you couldn’t help it when the smallest whimper fell from your lips.

“god, you sound so fuckin’ pretty.” eddie groaned, hands smoothing down your body until they found purchase on your ass. he squeezed the flesh in his fingers and used the leverage to rock your body into his.

“wanted you for so goddamn long, i almost can’t hold myself back.”

eddie’s kiss was feverish now — not clumsy, but passionate and wet. his lips moved against yours as if he was trying to make up for years of neglect in one kiss, and his tongue and teeth scraped against your lips at intermittent points. your brain felt completely frozen, unsure of how to even match his pace.

“use your tongue, sweetheart.” eddie guided, as if reading your mind. “use your tongue like i am.”

you doubted you could use your tongue the same way eddie could use his, but you wanted to try. slipping your tongue against his felt strange, slimy, but not uncomfortable — and he tasted minty, like peppermint, so it wasn’t gross like you thought it would be.

you were certain your movements were clumsy, but they pulled satisfied groans from eddie regardless. his hips bucked up against you faster and his breathing turned shallow.

“fuck, good girl.” eddie moaned, sliding a hand up your back to tangle in your hair. he pushed you impossibly closer to him and deepened the kiss.

your entire body was buzzing, heated from the inside out, and there was a tingle between your legs. a warm, wet tingle.

“eddie,” you mewled into his mouth, hips shifting on their own, as if they were searching for something. “i feel weird.”

“i know, angel. just hold on.” eddie uttered, hips still careening into yours, hard-on grinding against you through the clothes. what was this weird pull in your stomach?

eddie’s lips remained against yours for a few more seconds, all the while you wiggled, whimpered and mewled into him, until he finally relented and pulled away.

“lay on your back, babygirl. i’m gonna show you something.” eddie prompted, voice deep gravel, eyes swallowed by black.

you swallowed when something kicked in your gut, and the moment eddie released his hold on you you scrambled off of him and fell on your back beside him. eddie was quick to mirror your actions, but rather than lying down, he crawled to the end of the bed and situated himself by your legs.

“open.” he demanded softly, and for the first time since his lips touched yours, you felt legitimate hesitance. you stared at him almost blankly, body quivering subtly in your skin. eddie arched a brow at you and fuck, that was pretty hot.

“angel, spread your legs.” eddie murmured, fingers coming up to caress the bare skin of your thigh. his voice was a rumble, enticing and sweet, but somehow comforting... like you didn't have to be afraid of obeying.

with a shaky breath you finally assented and spread your thighs open, snapping your eyes shut when eddie sucked in a sharp breath.

"fuck, look at these panties. so cute." you nearly jumped from your skin when eddie slid a finger up your mound, a sort of electric feeling throbbing through your hips when his fingertip scraped against your clit.

"they're nearly soaked through, baby." eddie cooed, continuing the stroking motions, pulling small moans and pants from your lips. “did you get this worked up just from kissing me?”

for some reason you couldn’t place, you nodded your head — it was as if you had no real control of some of your motor functions, like part of you was in some sort of trance.

“mmm, sweet baby.” eddie whispered darkly. “you have no idea what i could do to you.”

as if to punctuate his point, eddie pressed his finger to your clothed clit and rubbed, and fuck, it felt so good.

you’d touched yourself before, but never had it felt this intense. the moans that slipped from your mouth were purely lewd and near foreign.

“e-eddie, what’s—?”

“shhh, angel. don’t question anything. just feel.” eddie murmured, effectively silencing your inquiries. eddie continued to rub your clit, picking up pace as your moans grew in volume, as your hips bucked into his hand.

it felt good, so incredibly good, but the pleasure seemed muted — the friction not enough to build you up to that wonderful precipice.

“eddie—”

“yeah, baby, i know. you’re ready f’more.” eddie teased, and even with your eyes closed, you knew he was smirking. your breathing was labored, you felt desperate, it was hot—

“‘m gon’a take care of you, baby.” eddie soothed. “gon’a show you how beautiful you are.” eddie slid his hands up your thighs and dipped them beneath your skirt, fingers grasping the lace of your panties and tugging. you followed the unspoken command and lifted your hips, allowing him to slip you free of the garment.

any prior hesitation you felt had been forcefully shoved out by lust.

cold air blew against your pussy the moment it was no longer shielded, and you gasped at the sensation. you didn’t really have the time to complain about it, however, because before you could it was swallowed by heat once more.

wet heat.

your eyes popped open and you glanced down to find eddie’s head nestled between your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you as he dragged his tongue over your aching clit. he did so slowly, torturously, as if he was merely giving you a taste of what he could truly do.

you opened your mouth but all that fell out was a wanton moan. this was something completely out of your experience, something you’d only thought about fleetingly.

eddie groaned into your cunt when your clit throbbed under his tongue, and he dipped the wet muscle down to prod at your slit before slipping it back up. he was lapping at you like a dog, tongue everywhere, as if he wanted to brand the memory of your shape against it.

“eddie,” you whined, hips shaking against him. eddie let out a strange sound as he gripped at your thighs and squeezed, head shaking side to side subtly and sending shocks up your body from the new sensation.

“fuck, taste so good,” eddie whimpered into you, the sound high and needy. “can’ get ‘nough.”

you gasped and cinched your eyes shut, that tension ramping up in your gut and pulling your muscles tight. it felt so fucking good, you were going to go insane.

“mm-mm, no.” eddie suddenly growled and pinched your thigh. you jumped from the pain and snapped your eyes down to him. “fuckin’ look at me, angel. i wan’a see your face when you cum.”

despite the strong urge to look away and the undercurrent of embarrassment beneath your skin, you simply couldn’t tear your eyes away from eddie’s. satisfied with obtaining your full focus, eddie went right back to devouring you.

his tongue was demonic against your cunt, lapping at your folds and flattening across your clit. soft groans and growls fell from his lips as he munched, hands leaving finger shaped bruises on your thighs from how hard he was gripping them.

how it could feel so damn good, you didn’t know. you’d heard talk, yeah, but so many girls had also said that they’d never cum from head before… you just assumed you’d be the same.

but with the way eddie was working your cunt with his lips and tongue, you were realizing you’d be the exception.

“fuck, shit,” you whispered, eyes locked with eddie’s, staring into twin abysses. his own hips rocked into the mattress as his tongue traced over your clit, stimulating himself against your bed. and that just seemed to make it hotter.

“i’m so close.” you murmured, reverently, rendered breathless from the pleasure eddie was shoving into your system. his eyes darkened even more, if that were possible, and his movements became much more feverish. one hand slipped from your thigh and you gasped when you felt a fingertip prod at your entrance.

“eddie,” you warned, anxiety settling in your stomach. even you hadn’t put anything in there; what if it hurt?

“trust me, angel. i won’t hurt you.” eddie murmured against your cunt, tracing his finger up and down your slit. you swallowed, still hesitant, but you trusted eddie — so you nodded.

eddie groaned low in his throat and focused his tongue against your clit, assaulting it with fast flicks. his finger slipped into your entrance with nearly no resistance, and you gasped when he curled it up against something.

“there it is,” eddie cooed, pumping his finger inside you languidly. “there’s that sweet spot, baby.”

you had no idea what he was talking about — but fuck if it didn’t feel so fucking good. your fingers twisted into the blanket beneath you, lips swollen and wet, throat nearly sore from all the moaning.

eddie fucked his finger into you at a near brutal speed, hitting that spot over and over, and you could feel it building — powerful and intense, nearly rupturing your stomach from how tense your muscles were. you couldn’t help the way you thrusted your hips against his face, against his tongue, shoving his finger deeper inside you.

chasing it. that euphoric high.

“fuck yeah, shit. c’mon angel, bust in my fuckin’ mouth.” eddie growled, and that was it — one final jab to that spot, one more flick of his tongue, and you were absolutely losing it.

your thighs and hips quaked as that coil finally snapped, fluid gushing around eddie’s finger and undoubtedly soaking the bed, walls fluttering and clit throbbing under his tongue.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—” you chanted, eyes rolling back as your muscles continued to tense and release. eddie lapped his tongue around his finger, groaning at your sweet taste.

your orgasm was slow to recede, the aftershocks still wracking your body when eddie slipped his finger out and rose to his knees — if your vision wasn’t so fuzzy you would have noticed the prominent wet spot covering the front of his jeans.

exhaustion crawled into your limbs with frightening speed, your muscles almost like jelly, and when eddie flopped down at your side and gathered you into his arms you were little help with it.

“do you believe me now, angel?” eddie murmured, and all you could do was nod sleepily. the edges of your vision was turning black, sleep well on its way to claiming you.

“good. don’t you ever forget it.” was the last thing you heard before you fell to the abyss, warm, satisfied, and comfortable.

completely and utterly loved.

[qqueenofhades]

Hi Hilary I know you’re only replying to so many politics asks — I can only imagine how many are sitting in your inbox rn — and you’ve already been such a comfort to all us folks who’ve really appreciated your insight time and time again! But I did want to ask about all the posts I’ve seen more recently about signing petitions and reaching out to the White House for a recount. I feel like at this point we’re really reaching — everyone’s talking about how there’s evidence suggesting cheating on Trump’s part, and while I would never be surprised by that, I have yet to see any trusted sources backing those claims. It feels like we’re long past that point, even though the results came in so much faster than I ever expected, but I was wondering if you have an opinion on all that? Take care in the meantime, and thank you for all that you do!

I will make this the last politics ask for the night, and hopefully for at least a few days (no promises, though), but --

This, most unfortunately, is not going to work. For one, Biden/the White House cannot request a recount in state-level races. There are strict rules governing who can and cannot request those, it's usually either triggered by a certain percentage margin or requested by the candidate, and then it also has to be paid for. Kamala has given her concession speech and the Democrats are not going to go down election-denialism rabbit holes. It is hugely unfortunate that the worst people in the world who launched a coup after losing last time are the ones to benefit from it, but... yeah. It just sucks all the way around.

The election interference happened on the day with all the Russian-linked fake bomb threats in blue areas of swing states, the ballot boxes set afire, etc etc. I fear we have only begun to see how bad it will be in this and any future elections, as with many other things, and the reports of people's ballots disappearing or not being received etc are obviously disturbing. But there is, as you say, scant evidence aside from social media chatter backing this up, people are angry and hurt and looking for something to make it not be real (me too, man) and that's easier than thinking that half the country simply shrugged and chose fascism because of grocery prices and trans panic. And it sucks absolute shit, but this is what happened. It happened broadly consistently across the country and was a symbol of the anti-incumbency that's been going on since Covid (New Zealand's liberal government also fell victim to this and elected reactionary conservatives, so this is a thing). We can split hairs about this or that policy decision by the Democrats, and believe me there needs to be a messaging revamp and the firing of basically every Democratic Corporate Consultant TM, but we need to face up to the truth that many, many ordinary American people chose this. They wanted it. And if we are going to do anything about it, we have to reckon with that fact instead of looking for conspiratorial excuses. For one thing, that's what those assholes do constantly, and fuck them.

Likewise, results came in across the country much faster due to the fact that people once more voted largely in person on Election Day, and not early/by mail as they did in 2020. They came in largely matching the expected timelines given by election officials of both parties beforehand. If there is basis to all this missing-ballot stuff, then yes, obviously, it should be investigated (though I have very low confidence that it will be if they are already making preparations to close the federal cases against Trump). But at this point, as you say, this is not something that has logistical legs and is going to undermine a lot more. It sucks. Sometimes I wish we didn't have to be the adults in the room and could just be whiny cheating shitstains like the Republican Fascist Party -- it seems to work out for them that people want Democratic policies and then elect Republicans to punish Democrats for not instantly and perfectly implementing all of them. The exit polls largely matched with what the results turned out to be. It absolutely sucks almighty shit, but it's true.

I am old enough to remember George W. Bush getting reelected in 2004, and it sucked, though not as much as this just because Trump is so crazy and extreme and the GOP has abandoned even the basic pretence of democracy and decency. It's a race to the bottom and through to the center of the earth for them now, especially since they have literally no incentive to reform or do anything but double down on their extremism. Why would they? They just won a major election and got popular legitimacy, something the Republicans have lacked for a long time. This is only the second time they've won the popular AND electoral vote (the first likewise being 2004) in the 21st century. We got the blue trifecta in 2020 because we benefited from the same desire for reversal of course that the Republicans are getting now. In and of itself, this does not indicate fraud. Terrible things about America and the future, yes, but not fraud.

So: Yes. We need to focus on the things we can control and prepare ourselves for what is still to come. It will be hard and it will suck and as I keep saying, it was completely avoidable, but people didn't want to avoid it. They're now going to learn painfully why they should have, but we can't do anything about that either. It is very much going to be a case of picking your battles, drastically limiting your daily news consumption, and a lot of other protective measures, and that is where, at least IMHO, we should focus our effort.

Take care. ❤️

[hello-sweetheart]

Neat Freak

Steve’s parents don’t make him keep the house spotless. He really is just that clean and when Nancy tries to tell people there like “lol, sure” but she knows.

He’s a neat freak.

When she would stay over she would change into her pjs and make a small bundle of her day clothes on his desk chair, and steve would just. Fold them. Before getting in bed with her.

Doesn’t take long after for the others to realize it.

Robin thought it was just a guy thing, caring that much about their car. Scolding her for kicking her socked feet up on the dash, and leaving crumbs of toast when she had breakfast to go.

But then she visits his house the first time and Robin has never been good at using a coaster, too scatter brained to pay attention where she sets her drink down each time.

Steve, though? Without missing a beat he will move her glass to the coaster. Every time. Doesn’t even break his strike or pauses his conversation it’s just muscle memory by now.

The kids have had their will broken and no longer put up a fight.

Without being told to anymore, they toe off their shoes and hang their coat by the doorway. They don’t even do that in their own home. How Steve was able to get those wild animals house broken? No body knows.

His mom didn’t actually choose his room decor. It looks a bit barren but Steve likes it that way. It looks clean, easier to do so, too. Everything has its place tucked away from sight so it’s not an eye sore.

Even his plaid wallpaper and curtains he chose for himself. He spent all day finding the curtains that matched the closest and he was really proud of himself when found some.

“Steve, buddy, this looks mental.”

“But look,” (closest the curtains to show that even the pattern lines up seemlessly) “you almost can’t even see the difference between the wall and fabric. It’s like magic! It’s cool!” >:(

He’s very meticulous about his appearance. Dustin is absolutely flabbergasted when he sees his full hair routine for himself. Everything must be done a certain way in a certain order every time. It’s routine.

“Three puffs of the Farah Fawcett! THREE!”

“I DID THREE.”

“YEAH, BUT YOU DID THEM WRONG.”

When they discontinue it, Steve has a mini breakdown. He doesn’t like that his very specific and set routine has been broken. He’s convinced he’ll never find a hair spray to replace it. Everybody stocks up on cans of it to try and lower his anxiety.

He just loves cleaning, okay?

Ironing his kakis and polos until there are no wrinkles is so satisfying. Glass without finger smudges is so nice. His closet being organized by color is so efficient. When he’s worried, anxious, or angry he likes to keep his hands busy and it just calms him down going ham on a water stain in the bathroom.

When he hangs out at Eddie’s, he mindlessly starts picking things up here and there. It’s like heaven for him. He sees a mess and just wants to go to town. Eddie doesn’t mind as long as he knows where everything is in the end. He’ll admit that having his music organized alphabetically is pretty convenient.

It’s also a little funny to watch Steve iron his ripped jeans and battle jacket with an iron he brought from home.

“You’re a freak, Harrington.” Eddie has a shit eating grin. Steve flips him off.

“Fuck off.”

[starberry-cupcake]

We're back! again, if these silly recaps help lift your mood in any way, it makes me very happy ♥ I baked chocolate chip cookies for this so imagine I'm sharing them with you 🍪

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

also @unexpected-tigers linked me to an official house quiz and I did it so, if you want to know what I got and how I answered, I'll add it under "read more" after the recap

CHAPTER 44

listen, I need to start listing things I got right and things I got wrong but I forget at this point what I said

you're gonna have to remind me if I got something right and I didn't catch it because I remember what I got wrong more easily than what I got right

such is life

I'll do my best to try to tally but

I got wrong the narrator, I assumed that, because they were insulting harrow, it might be harrow too

but I forgot about gideon also being a pro at insulting harrow so, guess what?

IT WAS GIDEON

WELCOME BACK, BABE, WE MISSED YOU

CRYING TEARS OF JOY

of actual joy, not mercygirl-joy

to be fair, the narration was very different from gideon's perspective, to account for 1) the twist and 2) the fact that gideon's gideon-ness came out more and more as she got closer to the surface of perception in harrow's body

something she kind of explains later

but yeah, I got that wrong

however, I did get the purgatory situation of canaan house somewhat right and I forgot to mention it last time

ANYWAY, BACK TO GIDEON

CUE 'I AM THE BEST' BY 2NE1 IN THE BACKGROUND

someone stabbed harrow from the back, which is very shitty behavior from whoever it was

so gideon comes back into the real world with the immediate danger of her vessel, necromancer and partner in crime having been stabbed

and she was "left behind" because harrow is back in her canaan purgatory river bubble

with her ghostie ghoulie friends

gideon immediately finds out that harrow can't fight for shit

she's determined to kick the stabber's ass but it's gonna be hard when she's used to her massive guns and ninja warrior disposition and she's inside the body of a baby kitten

gideon's very eloquent commentary is "Fuck. Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell. Help. Yuck. Aaaargh."

it's so nice to have her back :')

she's talking to harrow in the second person, as she's been doing all this time unbeknownst to those of us who didn't catch it

"which proves that you can put the swordfighter into the necromancer but you can't, wait, hang on"

god, I missed her

gideon is also coming to terms with the fact that harrowcita has regenerating abilities now

she is very angry at the awful state in which her two handed sword is

if you knew, gideon, about the relationship between harrow and your sword and how layered it was...

"Harrowhark, I gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it"

so gideon starts taking control of the situation because the beast is chasing them

absolutely no chill over here in the emperor's bolthole

and by "them" I mean gideon and harrow because idk where the everliving fuck everyone else is

I know the emperor is hiding in weenie hut jr but the rest are supposed to be fighting

except for whoever was going around stabbing people

and idk where not!dulcinea is at this point either

maybe someone's using her to stab harrow idk, I'll never stop blaming her for things, even indirectly

gideon is doing a great job with what she has available because she's "a good girl and you're an evil nun"

she's also still going on about harrow leaving her behind and saying "you never got rid of being so absolutely fucking goddamn sad"

chisus christ gideon, tell us how you really feel about her

gideon looks at herself in the mirror and sees harrow with her eyes and her expressions, which is very uncanny valley

"This was your shell, but it was all filled up with me. God, the double entendres were hard to resist"

yandere twin would appreciate that one, I think, maybe

gideon proceeds to taunt harrow to come back by using her voice to say things like "Oooooh, Palamedes. I am measurably less intelligent than you. Put your tongue in my mouth and I'll flop my tongue against it."

"Ohhhhhrr, Gideon. I was so dumb to think a tub of ancient freezer meat was my girlfriend. Please show me how to do a press-up. Also, I'm very obviously attracted to y—"

no no, by all means, go on

please, gideon, go on with that idea, let's see where it takes us

in other important but not as spicy events

gideon cuts the beast thing in two with her own sword

but now we've got the heralds to go through

"Don't worry, honey. I'll keep the home fires burning."

same energy as

CHAPTER 45

we're back in hotel california canaan house au river bubble

I'm sure that description makes it all super clear for anyone reading

abby and her hubby are taking harrowcita to the secret hideout of the lost boys aka the room behind the tapestry that is now untouched by the body horrors going on in this version of canaan house

and where all our ghostie ghoulie friends are hanging out

it was a person's room, says harrow, and I think we all know it was alleged gideon's aka ortus, but we'll get to that

I need to point out the fact that harrow says she always thought not!dulcinea showed signs of "suppurating ego" but that she could never convince gideon to "see past the appealing eyes and softly clinging dresses"

I KNOW, GIRL, IT DROVE ME FERAL TOO

apparently harrowcita's invite also got to the kids of the fourth but abby sent them back to the river with a kiss in the forehead and their lunch packed

because she had adopted them, as we all know

she said "if only Silas had asked me, what has happened to his soul worries me horribly"

of course I didn't remember that silas was mayonnaise uncle and had to do math for a while in my head

maybe he's out there looking for duracell bunny nephew's soul that is still travelling through the river

abby learned a way to send them back into the river but everyone present wants to help deal with this haunt situation harrow's got going on

honestly, props to martita for hanging around, judith is a lot less cooperative

abby also thinks there's something wrong with the river and that the emperor is unaware of it because he doesn't know about the river beyond

she has studied a lot about it

and that the fact that the "beyond the river" concept has been looked at with scorn by everyone for so long has made the potential studies of it stagnant

I love her a lot at this point

I mean, I'm still 100% a camilla girlie, I'm putting camilla's photo in one of those glittery clear files and covering it with heart stickers, don't get me wrong, but this woman is fierce af

abby, you know more than the emperor, you're more worthy than he is, please murder him

NOW IT'S TIME TO GET EMOTIONAL

GRAB YOUR TISSUES

IT'S ORTUS TIME

man, ortus won me with this chapter, he's great, let's keep him

let him be happy in the infinity of time with his fifth polycule

harrow tries to tell him that he doesn't have to apologize to her, that she owes him for crux murdering him and his mom

(interlude for "her unconscious gracelessness to Camilla Hect; a girl whom, in reality, she should have taken by the hands and thanked her profusely for every time she tried to save her cavalier")

(glad we're in agreement there)

they talk about how gideon died and ortus tells harrow that gideon never did anything without intent

"she had been outplayed by Palamedes Sextus, outgunned by Cytherea the First, undone by Gideon Nav"

damn, harrow

LISTEN TO THIS PART YOU FOLKS

"I should have offered help. I should have died for you. Gideon should still be alive. I was, and am, a grown man, and you both were neglected children."

ORTUS, MY MAN

THIS MADE ME SO EMOTIONAL

"she and Gideon had become women before their time, and watched each other's childhood crumble away like so much dust. But there was a part of her soul that wanted to hear it —wanted to hear it from Ortus's lips more, even than from the lips of God. He had been there. He had witnessed."

"I will hope better for heroism in my death"

ORTUS I'M HOLDING YOU TIGHT AND CARESSING THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD LIKE A PUPPY

harrow finds the "g&p" note

GUESS WHAT

GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT ABOUT THAT

ALLEGED GIDEON IS ACTUAL GIDEON THE FIRST

AND HARROW THINKS OUR GIDEON WAS NAMED AFTER HIM

I mean I had trust in my alleged gideon theory BUT I CAN'T BELIEVE I CALLED THE OTHER PART MAYBE TOO???

sixth house please accept me

she also finds another note, similar to the rant notes she had been finding, which reads: "the only thing our civilisation can ever learn from yours is that when our backs are to the wall and our towers are falling all around us and we are watching ourselves burn we rarely become heroes"

are the letters clues on the angry spirit that's haunting harrow?????

does it relate to gideon???

but when harrow is about to ask ortus about gideon ("less like tragedy and more like carelessness" 👀) abby interrupts

abby, interrupting me again when I'm getting to the good stuff

but I can't be angry at her because she says she'll exorcise the Sleeper

YOU GO ABBY, YOU LORRAINE WARREN THAT STUFF

And that's where we leave it for today!!! my willpower is strong and I know I can't make these too annoyingly long. Which is why, if you wanna know how I did with the House quiz, look after "read more". If not, see you for the next one!!! Super soon!!! Sending you all hugs in these difficult times ♥

So, this is the quiz that I did, the official author-made one.

I GOT *drumroll* A TIE BETWEEN THE SIXTH AND THE FOURTH

The author said that, in the event of a tie "Pick the House descriptor most like yourself, or most like the person you secretly wish you were, or with the colours you like best."

We all absolutely know where I'm going if I'm left to pick between those two.

To be totally transparent, I'm gonna show you my very messy notes, which I wasn't initially planning on showing, so I apologize for them not being neat and tidy. I added the skull I have in my desk as aesthetic compensation for the messy handwriting.

I picked 1st the pen and flimsy because, if I'm doomed and this is it for me, I want to go out writing. The bottle, because I considered a vessel for separating things or for keeping something in safely would be useful. The rapier, because I always take a swiss army knife in my purse with my keys and the rapier was the closest thing to that. The flare gun, because I might as well try to signal somehow, at least some of us could get saved. And the raft not to try to escape, like the answer said, but because if we're more than one person in the boat, having more space, even if somewhat leaky, could help out for different situations.

I did consider every potential option that could be turned into food but I'd rather die of something else than food poisoning of any kind.

I got the Fifth in second place, and I wouldn't have minded if I got the Fifth, honestly. In 3rd place I got Seventh and Eighth as a tie, I'm not gonna ask about that. The Second got fourth place, the Third got fifth and 0 points for the Ninth, I'm so sorry.

You should have seen my face when I saw a portrait of the Emperor was an option to take with you lmao

[oimitocat]

STRAY KIDS REACTION….

… to boyfriend!reader being angry and they find it hot (nsfw warning) (hyung line!)

ᡴꪫ CHAN… was extremely similar to you. you’re a lay-backed person, sure sometimes you have episodes where you’re not exactly in the mood to socialize but still, you’re charismatic and let things slide more than he does. you always say it’s because you don’t have energy to entertain that stuff.

yet, seeing you angry — TRULY angry, was something he’d never think he’d get to see. so color him surprised when he hears you shout and pace. the furrow of your brows, your darkened eyes. you looked… good. that tone, he’d never heard it and… it stirred something in the pit of his stomach.

“something wrong?” he asks after a while of eye fucking you.

“company said i need to go on a damn hiatus because some shitheads are spreading a rumor. i could care less, why do they have to make it seem like i’m anxious or whatever?”

chan blinks. “rumor?”

“yeah, super stupid. all i did was call them to say i wasn’t happy with how our last show ended. dude, they literally couldn’t get my headset to work, i had to wing the timing and stuff. their lack of work effort pisses me off.” you groan.

“i know but…” chan pauses when you glare at him. he swallows, “hey, i mean a hiatus is good. you get to rest.”

“i don’t want to rest-“

“i get to have you all to myself without worrying about you missing out on your schedule.”

“if you’re bored, play with me. if you’re angry, take it out on me. you’ll have all the time to do so.” he grins.

you blink, “i- what?” and you can’t even be angry anymore… just frustrated. but chan will also take that.

ᡴꪫ MINHO… had the habit of annoying you and frustrating you sometimes, but never actually making you angry. as idol’s there is a lot of things that can drive you mad. minho for example hates wardrobe malfunctions. fans went crazy over some clips of him angry and upset over a few outfits and so have you.

you never really cared for much, at the end of the day you get a nice paycheck and you’re good to go. still, that doesn’t mean you don’t care about your job. so when he sees that your mic isn’t working and you’re more than upset at the lack of resolve from the sound techs…. he simply cannot look away.

even when you get off the stage, you’re glaring and absolutely not in the mood. everything you do is with anger— ripping off your headset, wiping off your sweat, loosening your outfit. goodness, you look delectable.

“you mad?” he asks teasingly, of course he has to tease.

“i’m not in the mood minho.”

oh! that anger had a pretty tone. “fuck,” he breathes out, pressing himself closer to you, “you gonna take it out on me?” and your eyes bored into him.

he definitely didn’t regret it later.

ᡴꪫ CHANGBIN…. didn’t know you could get angry. he’s only seen you be all soft and gushy. he’s seen you be defensive and stern but never angry. he’s literally making his way to the studio when he hears your voice boom outside the door. worried, he walks in and sees how your standing and yelling at the other producer.

“what’s-?”

“-how long it’s taken us to keep these files and you forget to save them?!”

the producer fidgets, “doesn’t change have a copy? he always has a copy-“

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN THE COPY IS THE SAME AS WHAT WE WERE ADDING TO IT YESTERDAY! you can’t recreate something that was authentic!” you pace, pulling at your hair, “shit man, i worked so hard on that!”

“y/n calm down,” he tries, “what file is it-?”

“changbin, i literally cannot right now.” and you leave.

in the end the file wasn’t deleted, just misplaced in the wrong folder to which it was saved. still, the lack of clarity pissed you off. you didn’t want to work that day and changbin was trying so hard to coax you. yet, seeing you mad was so good for some reason. changbin knew he could make you feel better (totally not feeling you with his hands? and you being angry was making things fun.

ᡴꪫ HYUNJIN…. doesn’t remember a time where you’ve been angry. he’s also never even wanted to. he doesn’t like noise and he remembers how you always say you blow up when angry. hence, when he hears you slam your fist on the desk, he jumps. you’re dramatic like him, so he tried not to think much of it except…

“are you kidding me?” he hear you say with an ominous tone. low and sultry, makes him pause. “so you’re saying that you’re wasting my damn time.”

he peeks over at, seeing you frown and glare at the wall while on the phone. he doesn’t think he’s ever seen that look on you… his mind starts to wander…. would that expression look at him? you’re talking, angry, clearly. and it’s so…

“why are you angry?” he asks when you hang up with an insult and throw your phone of the desk.

“cus apparently i have to do everything myself. why the hell would you-“ and he zones out, watching your angrily rant.

you plop down on the chair, angry. he stands and walks over to you, desire in his gut. “baby don’t be mad…” “well i wouldn’t if they did what i was paying them to do.” “-let’s get your mind off that, yeah?”

and boy did he.

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

Please 🙏🏻 please 🙏🏻 please 🙏🏻 can I get your thoughts on yandere dom Hal Jordan‼️

Begging on my knees ❗️❗️

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐀𝐋 𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐍…

!!! 18+ THEMES, GN reader, heavy non-con elements, coercion, mentions of manipulation/intimidation/threats/kidnapping, semi-public, jealousy, possessiveness, biting, slightest mention of a possible cannibalism kink, brief daddy/sir kink, praise, degradation, angry sex, rough sex, somno, cockwarming, Hal is a menace to society and absolutely disgusting (I say as I drool over him).

This ask is giving me psychic damage in the best way possible.

Hal does not take “no” for an answer. It doesn’t matter if his charm and charisma doesn’t work on you; he’ll find a way. Maybe he just needs to sprinkle in a little manipulation, or somehow scare you into his welcoming arms. Is that also not working? Hm, as much as he hates being the bad guy, he’s not afraid to use intimidation and threats towards you if the ends justify the means. Still not working? Well, damn. Guess he has to kidnap you. And to think this all could’ve been avoided if you hadn’t been so difficult.

This man is absolutely shameless, unable to keep his hands off you even in public. Yes, it gets ten times worse when he’s jealous. If it comes down to it, he absolutely will drag you off for a quick fuck. Does that make him a tiny bit possessive? Maybe. But, hey, for what it’s worth, he’s great with his mouth. Your pleasure usually comes before his; it’s the least he could do before he fucks you into oblivion.

Hal’s definitely a biter. There, I said it. And not just little nips, either. I’m talking full-on teeth marks on your shoulder, deep enough to bruise or even draw blood. This kind of goes hand in hand with his possessive side and maybe a hint of a cannibalism kink?? We don’t have time to unpack that, so we’ll leave it at what I know for sure: Hal Jordan thinks it’s very hot when you have bite marks all over your body. Especially when you’re wearing his jacket over them.

And if I say daddy kink, will y’all come after me? Cuz, yes, Hal is disgusting like that. He’d be over the moon if you hit him with the d-word. But, hey, he’ll take a “yes, sir” or “no, sir” just fine, too. Compromise, amiright?

When it comes to dirty talk, Hal can dish out praises and degrading comments equally. I think it depends on how much coercion he had to do; he’ll praise you if you took the easy way, degrade you if you took the hard way. Simple as that. Though this also depends on what you’re into. Again, your pleasure usually comes before his, so he makes mental notes on what you like.

Speaking of coercion though, remember that Hal doesn’t take “no” for an answer. Your choices are the following: accept his advances, or be forced to accept his advances. Should he need to force you a little, he’ll start off encouraging (“it’s okay, I’ll make you feel good, I promise”), then get a little more pushy (“come on, you know better than this”), until he’ll eventually just take what he wants (“hey. Stop struggling. I don’t wanna hurt you”). While he somewhat recognizes what he’s doing is wrong, he easily justifies it by reminding himself it was your choice to do this the hard way.

“Shh, everything will be fine, babe. Just let me take care of you. Yeah, there you go… you put up one hell of a fight. I’m sure you’re tired.”

God, he is an absolute menace when he wants to be. Should you ever piss him off, there’s a chance he’ll fuck his frustrations into you. This man has enough stamina to go for a long time, so I wouldn’t recommend testing him. Unless if you’re fine with not being able to walk for a couple of days. Then go for it!! It’s your call.

If you’re into that, a good way to piss him off is trying to weasel out of his grip. Hal always has an arm around you, be it in public, around the house, while you sleep… bro just canNOT let go. I think he’s secretly insecure about you running off, so for you to feed into that? Yeah, no. Not a good idea. Unless, again, that’s what you’re going for. Then it’s a great idea!!

Y’all, I’m gonna be honest. You may wake up in the middle of the night to him fucking you. He just can’t help himself, okay?? He didn’t want to wake you, and hey, what you don’t know won’t hurt you, right? Just know that if you catch his freaky ass doing this, he will feel absolutely no guilt. I mean, why would he? We’re already past the point of shame. If anything, he’ll double down and whisper nasty shit in your ear until he cums. And, yes, he’ll stay inside of you til the morning. Good ol’ cockwarming.

Oh, yeah. Cockwarming. He’s big into that. And it’s lowkey not even a sexual thing; he just really likes the intimacy. It’s very common for him to be inside you while the two of you watch TV, your back pressed against his chest as he leaves gentle kisses on your neck. This is when Hal shows his softer side, even going as far as resisting the urge to bite you!! What a big step for him!!

All in all, yan Hal is a mixed bag. As long as you’re compliant and don’t go out of your way to make things hard for him, I’d say he’s pretty mild. It’s just that his sex drive is through the roof, especially after long missions. Does he bring you with him to space? You know what, probably. He just wants to be near you, okay? Or, actually, maybe it’s more of the other way around; he wants you near him. The specifics are important.

But yeah. Good luck covering up those bite marks!! Hal likes to leave them in obvious places on purpose (he’s an asshole like that).

[mazskidoo]

Oh fuuuuuuck you. You're a real piece of shit. You're so desperate to lash out, that you have to take it out on other people in the exact same situation as you, some even worse. For feeling suicidal during an extremely bleak period in our history?

We're in a giant mental health crisis because people are spiraling financially, physically, and in pretty much every way you can imagine. Shit has been falling apart and there isn't an end in sight.

Your lack of empathy is part of the problem. You you sitting on your moral high horse, showboating, getting to decide who deserves compassion and cruelty, who deserves to get kicked while they're down, it's giving moral superiority for the sake of moral superiority. Which huh, is a lot like what conservative Republicans like to do!!!!

Telling people with severe mental health struggles they're pussies who need to get over themselves is not what is going to fix this country, the left, or the fact that everyone is going further and further into becoming another angry, unempathetic, unfeeling, vitriolic asshole, which is what is driving this country and this world further and further into a death spiral. And it is exactly what conservatives want.

Your post was downright ableist, punching down bullshit. You don't know the situation of those who are struggling, who you turn your nose up at. Also, you yourself say on your blog you regularly joke about suicide. Hypocritical much? You are allowed to express and vent your mental health, but only those you deem worthy can also share the privilege? Who the fuck are you? A mean spirited, self aggrandizing asshole charlatan it seems, using people's desperation and frustration at a bad situation to target vulnerable individuals. Yeah, that'll really bring us together to fight against fascism!

And to those who are struggling: things are bleak, but there's always a path forward, always a path to make things better, and I believe that you can find a reason to stay, a small joy or comfort that makes it worth it to hold on for just a little longer.

seriously cut it out with the suicide shit you privileged insensitive fucks

[inkskinned]

one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.

the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.

like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.

but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.

so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.

i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?

but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?

sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?

and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.

nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.

the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!

and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Fuck I hate being an adult. I need a more adult adult to help with the volatile emotional situation.

[brittlebutch]

actually it's kind of funny how people will say Alex's fatal flaw is that he 'doesn't ask for help' and that it's his determination to handle things on his own that leads to his deterioration and eventual death when his whole introduction to the present-day timeline was a very literal cry for help that simply went ignored

[lungfuls]

Maybe I'm projecting and being hopeful but I mentioned to M that I don't even get to shit by myself in peace lmao and I feel like something clicked for him. Bc I was like hey, at least you get private bathroom breaks at work (noncombative). And since then he's been a lot more acquiescent when I ask if I can nap and stuff

[anxiously-sidequesting]

So I don't know if it was ever revealed how Duncan felt when we killed Malistaire all three times but I'm wondering if maybe some part of him could hate us for that too. Like you hear that and you go "but why. Malistaire was terrible and even Duncan knew that(?). Why would he hate you for getting rid of him."

But like I think it's so....... interesting in a very, very, very sad way how Duncan so easily latches onto anyone who directly feeds into his delusions of grandeur. And that's no fault of his own that he was manipulated by the nasty Schism but when you think about how desperately clung to the idea that Malistaire, easily one of the greatest necromancers any of us had ever heard of (at that time), somehow actually recognized Duncan's talents (even when canon supports that Duncan wasn't all that talented, at least no more than the next necromancer) and then praised him for it so often that Duncan believed that he would be the next Death Professor is. I mean ☹️

So like with that mindset I unfortunately feel like it would be quite easy to twist even Malistaire's death as something that's horrible and awful and all our fault. ESPECIALLY if the Schism was feeding into Duncan's already broken mind and shattered ego and was constantly telling him that everything bad that ever happened to him ever in his life was Our Fault. That's like a realistic conclusion that someone like Duncan could come to

And like, at this point in time, are Malistaire's crimes even a factor in how he thinks????? Was Duncan ever able to separate Malistaire's talent and skills and prowess from the terrible and awful things he did? If Duncan wasn't able to consciously tell that distinction in the first place I can't imagine it would be any better during the years he was being manipulated and isolated and lied to

Like in Duncan's mind it probably isn't, "maybe I shouldn't idolize a national criminal, or idolize anyone at all for that matter, and aspire to be like someone so harmful when I can recognize my own talent and build from there" it's probably more like, "you (the wizard) permanently got rid of a brilliant mind, an innocent person who just made a few mistakes, and someone who believed in me no matter what just so that you could be the better than me and loved by everyone else" and that's! very sad actually!

[kjzx]

I've been playing slitherio these past few days, and after some time messing around with nicknames and my own experience with the stuff, I've realized anger is something very easy to weaponize. On my second attempt of having "trans rights" as a nickname I killed a huge ~5k point worm as a teenie tiny 200 point worm simply because it was so desperate to kill me specifically. Anger makes your life harder, but it also makes people really unwise. I fucking bet this is in "the art of war", even though I haven't read it.

[skitskatdacat63]

I really hate how twt makes it impossible to rly look back at your acct past a certain date. Like when I wanna re-live the glory days of some past fandom on tumblr, I can go back on my archive. On twitter? You're fucked imo.

Man, I just wanna look back at my acct to see the fanart I reblogged when some specific genshin pv came out, but it's basically impossible. It makes me wish I downloaded a lot more art/fanart in general, bcs its so hopeless atp :/