overr-writtenn

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Religious extremists dont find god. They find racism and misogyny.

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We all know who they are talking about.

Mar-a-Lago is a crime scene.

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The power to suspend habeas corpus is a congressional power, not a presidential one.

#HabeasCorpus

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Okay, hear me out... Bucky who was very hesitant to have physical contact when you first started dating, but later on he couldn't sleep without you cuddling him... Yup yup. And #trust, he'd act as if he just got a sword thrust through his heart when he woke up without you holding him (you went to the bathroom to pee) (he acts like you just told him to fuck off and get lost).

this man is a LEACH. once he gets comfortable he never stops holding on to you. this man has a body pillow and it's you

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When you first started dating Bucky Barnes, you learned quickly that touch was… complicated.

He didn’t recoil, exactly, but you could feel the stiffness in his shoulders if you so much as brushed your hand against his in public. His jaw would tick, eyes darting anywhere but your face. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be close — you knew enough of his past to understand that touch meant a thousand things to him, and not all of them good.

So, you waited. You didn’t push. You let him come to you.

It started small — a light squeeze on your knee when you were sitting together on the couch, the brush of his knuckles against yours as you walked side-by-side. One day, he hugged you from behind in the kitchen, muttering something about you making “the best damn pancakes in Brooklyn” — and you had to pretend not to tear up over how big of a step it felt.

And then, one night months later, he stayed over.

You’d fallen asleep in the middle of The Godfather, his head on your shoulder. Somewhere in the middle of the night, you woke to find him clinging to you like a lifeline — one arm under your pillow, the other wrapped completely around your waist, face buried in your hair.

You didn’t move. You didn’t even breathe too loud. You just let him hold on.

From there, it was a slow creep into a new normal. First it was once in a while. Then every night. Then suddenly, if Bucky wasn’t tucked around you like you were his personal body pillow, neither of you got a wink of sleep.

Which is how you ended up here — in the middle of the night, tip-toeing toward the bathroom, only to hear the most pitiful noise behind you.

“...Doll?”

You stop dead, blinking at the dark hallway. “Hmm?”

There’s the sound of sheets rustling violently. “Where’d you go?” His voice is groggy, scratchy from sleep, but already holding a twinge of dramatic devastation.

You open the bathroom door. “I’m just peeing, Buck.”

A pause. Then — “You left me.”

You sigh, fighting a laugh. “It’s been three minutes.”

“You were gone forever,” he says, like you just informed him you were moving across the country without him. You hear the bed creak, then heavy footsteps padding toward you.

You flick the bathroom light off and step into the hall, only to be met by a six-foot-something super soldier who looks like you’ve personally ruined his life. His hair’s a mess, eyes still half-lidded with sleep, and he’s got the quilt wrapped around his shoulders like some sad, oversized cape.

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” he mutters, frowning at you like you kicked a puppy.

“I literally just—”

“Don’t care,” he interrupts, arms already looping around you. “You’re supposed to be in bed with me. That’s the deal.”

You snort. “The deal?”

“Mm-hm.” He’s already steering you back toward the bedroom, holding you so tightly you have to shuffle instead of walk. “When I fall asleep, you’re right there. When I wake up, you’re still right there. Non-negotiable.”

You can’t help but smile into his chest. “You used to flinch when I held your hand, remember?”

“Yeah, well.” His voice is muffled as he rests his chin on top of your head. “You snuck up on me. Made me like it.”

“Made you?” you tease.

“Yup.” He pulls you back into bed, the quilt tangling around both of you as he climbs in behind you and drapes himself over your back. “Corrupted me. Now I’m ruined. Can’t sleep without you.”

You laugh softly, wiggling around until you’re face-to-face. “That’s not ruined, Buck. That’s called love.”

His eyes soften, even in the dark. “Yeah,” he admits quietly. “Guess it is.”

He kisses you once, quick but warm, then tucks you back against him like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he blinks too long. You feel his breathing slow as he settles again, but his voice is still heavy with faux injury when he mumbles, “Don’t do that again.”

“Go to the bathroom?” you ask.

“Leave me,” he corrects. “Not even for three minutes. Hurts my feelings.”

You snicker, burying your face in his shirt. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You knew that when you signed up.”

It’s true — you did. But you also know that somewhere deep in his heart, the guy who once couldn’t bear to be touched now finds safety in the shape of you. And you wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Even if it means being guilt-tripped every time you have to pee.

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Trump raped children. Not adults. Children.

Says a lot that no Republican was able to push all these horrible cuts to Medicare, USAID, and cancer research until a rapist was elected.

Republicans have become one with the rapist.

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Mike Johnson will prioritize and protect pedophiles who rape children.

Republicans will applaud and reward his cowardice.

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Post of the year.

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Scrap the cap. Don't let billionaires write tax policy.

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Typical Christian shitshow trying to judge others. #4thMarriage

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a princess who only has her hands to entertain herself in the night and the knight who shares a bedroom wall with her and is being tested by god

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How can you have a meeting about Ukraine without Ukraine being in the meeting?

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15 years.