mxanigel

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memeception

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Every unhinged fic writer needs an equally unhinged friend who "yes ands" their ideas and encourages them to write all their most far fetched and insane stories.

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"He knows my name," Padilla said on MSNBC's "The Weekend" on June 21. The comments, Padilla went on, were "just an indicator of how petty and unserious this administration is."

https://www.sfchronicle.com/california/article/newsom-vance-debate-20387033.php

“JD Vance served with Alex Padilla in the United States Senate. Calling him ‘Jose Padilla’ is not an accident,” Newsom wrote.

Padilla is one of three children of Santos and Lupe Padilla, both of whom moved from Mexico, specifically Jalisco and Chihuahua, before meeting and marrying in Los Angeles, where he was born. His parents were initially undocumented immigrants to the US, but later became citizens. His father worked as a short-order cook, and his mother as a housekeeper. He grew up in Pacoima, Los Angeles, and graduated from San Fernando High School in the northeast San Fernando Valley. He earned a degree in mechanical engineering from Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) in 1994. He graduated from the Coro Fellows Southern California Program in 1995.

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explain your gender in 10 words or less without using boring words like “male”, “female”, “nonbinary”, “masculine”, “feminine” or “androgynous”.

go!

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Congress - do your job.

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Honoring Freedom: Juneteenth

On June 19, 1865, news of emancipation reached the last enslaved person in Galveston, Texas, more than two years after the Emancipation Proclamation. Today, Juneteenth is a celebration of freedom, resilience, and Black history and culture.

This Juneteenth, we're highlighting two powerful works by author, educator and activist Booker T. Washington (1856-1915): Up from Slavery and Working with the Hands. Both volumes were published in New York by Doubleday, Page & Company. Originally published in 1901, our copy of Up from Slavery was published in 1902. Our copy of Working with the Hands is a first edition from 1904 and is illustrated with photographs by Frances Benjamin Johnston (1864-1952), an American photographer and photojournalist. 

Booker T. Washington’s landmark autobiography, Up from Slavery, chronicles his journey from slavery in Virginia to becoming one of the most influential Black leaders in the United States. The book details his early life, his education at Hampton Institute, and his founding of the Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute (now known as Tuskegee University) in Alabama. Washington advocates for self-reliance, industrial education, and racial uplift through dignity and hard work. This text was widely read and continues to be a foundational work in African American literature and history.

A lesser-known sequel to Up from Slavery, Working with the Hands serves as a practical and philosophical follow-up. In it, Washington elaborates on the day-to-day operations, goals, and educational philosophy of the Tuskegee Institute. The book emphasizes the dignity of manual labor and the importance of vocational training as a means of achieving Black economic empowerment in the post-Reconstruction South.

From emancipation to education, Washington’s life and legacy are deeply tied to the ongoing struggle for Black freedom and self-determination. His writings emphasize resilience, practical knowledge, and the power of building a future by hand and by heart.

-View previous Juneteenth posts

--Melissa, Distinctive Collections Library Assistant

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Portrait sketch of Ariadne by @topbanana-art!! She looks so good and I love the strawberry background 😊💕

Check them out on Vgen!

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You know. Reading is important. Because I'm like always trying to make every line I write this groundbreaking mindfucking art but like. A book is 90% just saying what happened. "I hugged him around the waist." "The chair was brown and overstuffed." "I woke up alone." Etc etc. Like normal ass lines. I just keep comparing my boring, necessary to set a scene lines, with famous authors' absolute best lines and like.... every line doesn't have to shatter the earth. Sometimes someone just sits in a chair and the lines that wreck you come later, one at a time, here and there. It's alright.

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there are positive things happening at work (yay!) but those things will take a huuuuge amount of time and effort (bleh) so I'll be relatively quiet for the rest of the month

(well, except weekends, I hope)

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The solution to ableism isn't for me to "stop calling myself disabled", it's for everyone to stop treating "disabled" as a bad word

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vigil's keep gang 💀💅✨

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WIP Wednesday

hot off the presses, as in literally still steaming as I just wrote it, last-minute entry for WIP Wednesday courtesy of @poetikat and @captastra's tags (thank you <3)

no-pressure tagging @marythegizka @spindleweedss @ardentgrace and anyone else interested in sharing WIP progress at any point (doesn't have to be Wednesday!)

brainrot content below the cut: 214 words, Hange/Levi scene from Levi's POV in the aftermath of the Battle of Shiganshina (here there be spoilers)

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But instead of gleefully watching one monster devour another, Hange begins to fall.

Levi grabs their unbloodied arm just in time to prevent a full collapse.

They crumple into his embrace. “Just need a minute.”

“You need more than that.” He carries them to the medic placing a sheet over Erwin’s body. He can dwell on that later. “Treat them.”

The woman—Emma might be her name—arches an eyebrow, but her irritation quickly fades at the sight of Hange’s poorly bandaged face. “No treatment yet?”

“No time until now.”

“Sit here.” She wipes her hands with a cloth that smells of alcohol and then unwraps the hastily-applied bandage.

Levi’s breath hisses between his clenched teeth.

“That bad, huh,” Hange mutters.

He says nothing. There’s no saving that eye. Instead, he kisses their fingers, then their palm, and finally brushes his lips against theirs as lightly as possible.

“I can’t treat Captain Hange with you in the way,” Emma snaps.

Hange grabs him for a deeper kiss, their grip unexpectedly strong, before pushing him back. “I don’t know where Shion is.”

The medic frowns. “Wasn’t she with you when the battle started?”

“She was.” Levi refuses to dwell on that, too—

“Find her. Please.” Hange’s voice cracks, unmasking the identical one in his chest.

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not me going back and updating tags for recent friend writing reblogs because I forgot my own tag that I use to find them again

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WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @kyberinfinitygems @poetikat @imogenkol and @haedia (sorry for being so late)! I' so excited to being sharing this becaaaauseeee RHEA is back!!!! This time shipping her with Joaquin Torres :3 I'm working on this mini multichapter whump fic so heres a little snippet from that (still a wip of course)

He was already in the cockpit, glancing every so often to make sure Rhea and the others got in when the play was rocked by a sudden explosion outside. Joaquin gripped his seat tightly. Behind him he heard shouting but no one yelling for help like someone was seriously injured. Joaquin turned his attention back to getting the plane running and doors opened to escape. "Bringing the party here, Sam?" "Sorry, Torres. Big guy is coming to you so get those civilians out of here!" "Yeah, yeah, alri—" Joaquin froze. He had ran out to where those they rescued were picking themselves up off the ground and saw Rhea was not there. In fact, she was nowhere to be scene. He ran out from the ship, looking wildly for any sign of that signature pink hair. He knew he should get the others out. Let Sam know what had happened and leave it up to him to find her so he could save the rest. But he couldn't. He couldn't leave her, especially if…if… There! Rhea was lying next to a stack of large metal containers, a human sized dent in one of them.

Tagging (no pressure): @olliesaurus-rex @lasersinthejungle @jellisdraws @oh-nostalgiaa @seliviawanders @bitchesofostwick @orionlancasterr @incognito-insomniac @amadeus-lmao @finding-comfort-in-rain @euryalex @mxanigel @darkqueen458 @bewitchingbloom @adelaidedrubman @aceghosts @iobsessoverfictionalmen @inafieldofdaisies @bearcina @shellibisshe @mathlann @cloudofbutterflies92 @imogenkol @undyingembers @carlosoliveiraa @tommyarashikage @kyberinfinitygems @space-whalesharks @ronqueesha @miscneilleaneous @saintvalentinex @thedeadthree @nowandthane @dickytwister @lustaniasaxon and anyone else who is interested!

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WIP Wednesday!

Thank you @poetikat for the tag!

Content warning for references to canonical suicide, sexual harassment, and unplanned pregnancy

From my wip about Brenda, the staffer who ended up leaving the Rayne campaign after being sexually harassed by Petr. (In this story, she became pregnant and was forced to leave the campaign — Petr had been secretly paying her, but the payments stopped suddenly with his death.) 383 words under the cut!

"Thank you, Brenda," Anton said softly. "That means a lot to me. I — I'm so sorry about the way things ended. I didn't know. I know that's no excuse — ultimately, it was my campaign, my responsibility — but I swear if I had known —"

"I'm not going to lie to you and say things have been easy, Mr. Rayne," Brenda said, looking him in the eye. "It's very hard. This country — this world — isn't kind to unwed mothers. Compared to most women in my position, I've been fortunate in the amount of financial support Petr has provided, and that my grandmother has been so accepting — she's able to help out with Annie while I'm at work."

"What kind of work do you do?" Dragging his eyes away from the little girl who looked so much like his old friend, Anton set the photograph back down on the table with care.

"Well, again, I was lucky in that I did have a good reference from the campaign —"

"Petr wrote you a reference?' Anton asked, and Brenda shook her head.

"No, he said it wouldn't be a good idea to have his name attached to anything with me, so he asked Mr. Galade to do it." Seeing Anton's look, she clarified. "He just knew that I was leaving; I didn't tell him why."

"I see."

"At any rate, at first I was able to find decent secretarial work at one of the new pharmaceutical companies in Leiren, which is why we ended up moving there in the first place." She sighed, looking down at her hands. "Unfortunately, as Annie grew into an active toddler, it started to get harder for my granny to keep up with her — she has a bad back. So I ended up taking a job at the local hospital, where I work the overnight shift. The wages aren't as good, but I'm able to be home during the day and help out."

"I thought Petr was paying you," Anton blurted out, and Brenda's face tightened a little. She took a deep breath before responding.

"He was sending me money, yes, Mr. Rayne," she said, in a very even tone. "But that only went so far with rent being what it is and three mouths to feed." She smoothed her skirt over her knees. "And of course those payments stopped coming four months ago."

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guys. i really like you. it's nice to be on this dashboard together