#PEN american publication

[image-junkie]

A representational artist with a modernist and at times abstract approach, Emilio Sanchez emphasized "pattern, color and strong lighting contrasts.” He was especially taken with 1970 architectural themes, from detailed stained glass windows to abstracted storefronts or city skylines. These images, come from his personal sketchbook, and are a departure from his more rigid, architectural scenes. Here he favors vibrant, organic forms, that are flattened and collapse into one another on the page. I love looking at artist sketchbooks for this reason—it’s wonderful to see the direction that our creativity takes when there isn’t the pressure or preciousness of a finished piece intended for sale or exhibition. 

From The Miriam and Ira D. Wallach Division of Art, Prints and Photographs: Print Collection, The New York Public Library Digital Collections, “The Emilio Sanchez Private Sketches,” 1940 - 1999.

[wausaupilot]

Reports: Book challenges reach record highs in 2023

Some residents asked us whether Moms for Liberty was behind book replacements at the Wausau School District. That turned into a larger story about the many book challenges seen nationwide this year:

Damakant Jayshi In a report released last week, the American Library Association reported that in the first eight months alone in 2023, there have been 695 attempts to ban or censor library materials across the United States. These attempts challenged 1,915 unique titles from Jan. 1 to Aug. 31. According to the ALA report, that is an increase by 20% compared to the same period in 2022. Most of…

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I graduated high school my folks decided to go on a family trip to Europe. I was extremely surly about this as I had an undiagnosed UTI but I was extremely excited to speak German with native speakers, convinced I would be an asset to my family across our travels.

Tragically, it was immediately apparent that three years of public school German meant I could communicate at the level of a first grader.

I was nonetheless elated when a child approached me at the train station to ask “Haben sie ein Kuli?” “Do you have a pen?” I was able to say, “Nein, aber ich habe ein Bleistift!” “No, but I have a pencil!” The kid seemed confused by my triumphant tone but borrowed my pencil anyway.

But my absolute greatest victory in vocabulary came during an airline check. They had me go through a metal detector, and they assumed my belt had set it off. I knew my belt was non reactive metal but! My favorite jeans had lost their zipper and I had them safety pinned shut.

The man approached me with a metal detector and seemed puzzled my belt wasn’t reading. I remembered the safety pin in the front of my jeans and I happened to know the word so I joyously announced, “Ich habe ein Sicherheitsnadel!” “I have a safety pin!”

As if to an infant, the man said slowly, “Nein, das ist sein Gürtel.” “No, that is your belt.”

I waved at my crotch and insisted, “Nein, in mein Hose ich habe ein Sicherheitsnadel!” “No, in my pants I have a safety pin!”

I couldn’t remember the name for zipper but luckily he caught the shine of the metal where a zipper should be and finally realized why this crazy American teenager was gesturing to her crotch. He scanned his machine over the offending pin which pinged and he cleared me to go.

I marched off to board the plane in a glow of pride that I had gotten to use an obscure word and the poor man got to return to his day.

[fairuzfan]

For those of you thinking "what's PEN gonna do to save lives lol," keep in mind that after PEN international expressed concern publicly about Mosab Abu Toha being detained by the IDF, he was soon released and many believe that PEN's public statements contributed to this. If they experience enough pressure, they'll respond in turn.

[ryrywrites]

Criminal Minds P Links

(divider creds: @cafekitsune)

minors, do not interact. the links below contain porn and graphic nudity. you are responsible for your own media consumption, understanding that the links below contain porn and should not be opened in public. I will block minors who interact.

A/N: The people have spoken! Criminal Minds P links has won the vote, Bridgerton came in a very close second. I was surprised that Criminal Minds won, this was so much fun to make. Spencer's links were so fucking hard to find. BTW happy early 4th of July, for those of you who celebrate! (🎵 I'm proud to be an American 🦅🇺🇸🎵) AND THANK YOU GUYS FOR 100 FOLLOWERS? WHAT THE FUCKKK???? Thank you, hotties! I'm gonna put up a new poll very soon, I'll keep you posted. Anyways, thank you, I luv you, gimme a kiss. Okay, Enjoy!

𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒅

❃ He loves being able to fuck your throat

❃ Spence can be such a tease

❃ First time together, you take control

❃ post-prison Reid gets aggressive when you try to take control (tw: slapping)

𝑨𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝑯𝒐𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒏𝒆𝒓

❃ Rough ass pounding while watching TV after a long case

❃ He's a literal giant

❃ Hotch will punish you if he finds out you took care of yourself while he was away

❃ you're just a toy for him to use

𝑫𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒌 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏

❃ He had you shaking all night

❃ you're folded like a lawn chair while he pounds you

❃ you're so tight but you take him so well

❃ he loves it when you wear lingerie for him

𝑳𝒖𝒌𝒆 𝑨𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒛

❃ Luke loves controlling missionary

❃ He's such a giver

❃ You get a call about a case but that doesn't stop Luke

❃ He thinks it's so sexy, watching you fuck yourself on his cock

𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔

❃ He'll pull your hair so hard, you'll get a migraine

❃ A shower after a long day at work gets a happy ending

❃ His stamina never runs out

❃ you're oiled up and bouncing on his cock

𝑬𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒔

❃ fucking in the office once everyone's gone home

❃ Emily loves when you pull her hair while she licks your clit

❃ She allows you to record but only this once

❃ Your first time together was so intimate and loving

𝑷𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒊𝒂

❃ You and Pen having rough sex all night

❃ You two thrive off of each other's pleasure

❃ Penelope got a tongue piercing just for this

❃ This time, Penelope wants to see how you like the strap

𝑱𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝑱𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒖

❃ JJ loves to see you like this

❃ JJ loves being on top

❃ perfect three-way between you, JJ, and Will

❃ JJ with a strap goes crazy

[marbleheavy]

as ao3 approaches almost 6x what they asked for, here are some other places to give your money to

Iranian American Woman Fund

Women’s Committee of the National Council of Resistance of Iran

Taller Salud (which is non-profit in Puerto Rico currently collecting donations for support after Hurricane Fiona)

Out & Equal (which supports LGBTQ+ during the hiring process + helps defend against workplace discrimination)

The Foundation for AIDS Research

Center for Black Equity (supports the black queer community)

Funds for Writers (which offers grants to aspiring writers so they can afford publication, time off from work, etc.)

The Audre Lorde Project (which directly supports queer POC in New York City)

PEN America (which helps writers in financial need across the United States)

This is an entire list of organizations supporting queer and BIPOC STEM students you can donate to

The BGD Press (which specifically publishes queer POC)

****but if you want to directly support the people who make you free content, the next time your favorite fic writer or artists makes a crowd funding post, opens commissions, talks about their patreon/ko-fi, donate your money there!!****

literally Wikipedia would be better at this point

[neechees]

Historical Indigenous Women & Figures [6]:

Queen Nanny: the leader of the 18th century Maroon community in Jamaica, she led multiple battles in guerrilla war against the British, which included freeing slaves, and raiding plantations, and then later founding the community Nanny Town. There are multiple accounts of Queen Nanny's origins, one claiming that she was of the Akan people from Ghana and escaped slavery before starting rebellions, and others that she was a free person and moved to the Blue Mountains with a community of Taino. Regardless, Queen Nanny solidified her influence among the Indigenous People of Jamaica, and is featured on a Jamaican bank note. Karimeh Abboud: Born in Bethlehem, Palestine, Karimeh Abboud became interested in photography in 1913 after recieving a camera for her 17th birthday from her Father. Her prestige in professional photography rapidly grew and became high demand, being described as one of the "first female photographers of the Arab World", and in 1924 she described herself as "the only National Photographer". Georgia Harris: Born to a family of traditional Catawba potters, Harris took up pottery herself, and is credited with preserving traditional Catawba pottery methods due to refusing to use more tourist friendly forms in her work, despite the traditional method being much more labour intensive. Harris spent the rest of her life preserving and passing on the traditional ways of pottery, and was a recipient of a 1997 National Heritage Fellowship awarded by the National Endowment for the Arts, which is the highest honor in the folk and traditional arts in the United States. Nozugum: known as a folk hero of the Uyghur people, Nozugum was a historical figure in 19th century Kashgar, who joined an uprising and killed her captor before running away. While she was eventually killed after escaping, her story remains a treasured one amongst the Uyghur. Pampenum: a Sachem of the Wangunk people in what is now called Pennsylvania, Pampenum gained ownership of her mother's land, who had previously intended to sell it to settlers. Not sharing the same plans as her mother, Pampenum attempted to keep these lands in Native control by using the colonial court system to her advantage, including forbidding her descendants from selling the land, and naming the wife of the Mohegan sachem Mahomet I as her heir. Despite that these lands were later sold, Pampenum's efforts did not go unnoticed. Christine Quintasket: also known as "Humishima", "Mourning Dove", Quintasket was a Sylix author who is credited as being one of the first female Native American authors to write a novel featuring a female protagonist. She used her Sylix name, Humishima, as a pen name, and was inspired to become an author after reading a racist portrayal of Native Americans, & wished to refute this derogatory portrayal. Later in life, she also became active in politics, and helped her tribe to gain money that was owed them. Rita Pitka Blumenstein: an Alaskan Yup'ik woman who's healing career started at four years old, as she was trained in traditional healing by her grandmother, and then later she became the first certified traditional doctor in Alaska and worked for the Alaska Native Tribal Health Consortium. She later passed on her knowledge to her own daughters. February 17th is known as Rita Pitka Blumenstein day in Alaska, and in 2009 she was one of 50 women inducted into the inaugural class of the Alaska Women's Hall of Fame Olivia Ward Bush-Banks: a mixed race woman of African American and Montaukett heritage, Banks was a well known author who was a regular contributor to the the first magazine that covered Black American culture, and wrote a column for a New York publication. She wrote of both Native American, and Black American topics and issues, and helped sculptor Richmond Barthé and writer Langston Hughes get their starts during the Harlem Renaissance. She is also credited with preserving Montaukett language and folklore due to her writing in her early career.

part [1], [2], [3], [4], [5] Transphobes & any other bigots need not reblog and are not welcome on my posts.

[cdragons]

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 3

Previous Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But goddamn, Oliver Quick was a fucking close runner-up.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, slight mention of blood, sexual harassment, Felix is delulu and kind of a pig, Reader just wants some fucking peace, Michael is Michael and the best, Oliver is Oliver (the worst)

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who commented and reblogged! I didn't expect this story to gain so many readers, and this was a challenging chapter to write - but only because there were some scenes I couldn't add because it would have gotten too long otherwise.

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

You really wanted to kick yourself in the pants for making such a fucking cheesy wish at night watching the stars with Michael.

Right now, you were leaning to rest your head against a bookshelf in a slant position. You had a splitting migraine that began from the moment you woke up and worsened with nausea from your tutorial. And you couldn’t even go back to your dorm for the rest of the day because your lab course for your gen-ed didn’t allow for absences.

“What’d she do now?” came a voice on your right.

You looked to the right and were blinded by a white and blue-striped button-down shirt with short sleeves tucked into a pair of tan khaki pants.

Your knight-in-silver-framed glasses, Michael Gavey, everyone.

All the guy was missing was a pocket protector with pens and tape wrapped around the bridge, and he would have matched every bullied kid in every high school movie set in the 80s.

You turned around to lean your back against the bookshelves and slowly lowered yourself until your butt was parallel to your feet. Blowing the stray hairs out of your face, you remembered to take deep breaths to prevent you from blowing up at your only friend.

“No,” you sighed, “well – yes, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Do you love your classes? Yes. Was Daria Martin still your art teacher, and did she still like you? Yes. Are the rest of your teachers mostly assholes that think all Americans are Appalachian hill-billies? Also, yes. But were you still not excelling and scoring in the top ten after every exam? Naturally, no doubt about it.

But were you as invisible and unnoticed as you were before the break came? No. Did anyone with a pulse give you side-eyed glances after your stunt with the 24/7 shit-faced He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named? Pretty much, yes. Did most of your problems come from one mythic bitch in a 5’3” flesh suit that had the ‘Juicy’ logo plastered on her ass? Namely, one in particular, Annabel – who was your assigned student partner in your tutorial.

Was your new name among the student body now “Psycho Bitch”? …Unfortunately, yes.

…Okay, so this term has not been going as well as you had hoped during the break.

Annabel hated you – like hated-HATED you. And you had no idea why.

You were pretty sure you were less than blank air to her last term, but now she was determined to make your life a living hell. Last term, she skipped every other session to do whatever Annabel did. But now, it felt like she came to every tutorial for the opportunity to tear apart your work.

You’re pretty confident she was the one who started your new “name” about a few weeks ago when the weather began to warm up.

It’s not as if you were a stranger to being picked and prodded by the people born with silver spoons on their tongues and blessed with golden-tipped wings. You were a public-school kid from grades K-12 who went to Townsend Harris for those last four years. Townsend Harris High School was a public school, but make no mistake – it was just as full of the same bullshit hierarchy that made up every private school in Manhattan.

"Open the doors to all. Let the children of the rich and the poor take their seats together and know of no distinction save that of industry, good conduct, and intellect."

What crock. You only survived those years because every kid knew that your dad was an NYU professor who knew the Dean of Admissions of Columbia. You couldn’t recall how often you wished you had joined your friends at Flushing High or even Bayside.

However, regardless of the snide snarks and bullshit snickers pointed at you, you were left alone for the most part.

Sure – it sucked; that goes without saying. It was naïve of you to assume that people would grow out of the need for drama once they walked through the ivory doors and marble floors of higher education. It was stupid of you to think that everyone would forget about your outburst at Bodleian while they were getting drunk on the New Year.

And while Annabel was one migraine-inducing problem, she wasn’t the worst part of returning. No, that title belonged to her boyfriend, a whole other can of monkeys.

The worst part – the worst part of EVERYTHING – was how Felix fucking Catton was incapable of just leaving you the hell alone. It was like he had a little antenna sticking out of his head specifically for you whenever the two of you were within a ten-foot radius of him. Everywhere you went, it was as if you had a giant blinking arrow above you screaming, “Felix Catton’s New Toy”!

No, you were less than a toy – you were a joke, a gimmick.

God, you should have just stuck to your original plan and applied to any SUNY school that would have accepted you without even looking at your application.

But no, your good-Samaritan-obsessed college counselor called your parents and complained that you weren’t “putting yourself out there” enough. And now you were over thirty-four hundred miles away from home, stuck with the worst people ever. It was like a thousand tiny prickles were running on your skin as your mind filled with static.

Whenever Felix called out to you, it was to invite you to a party or get wasted. One time, he walked up to you insanely plastered and invited you for a quickie in the men’s bathroom. You were in an empty lecture hall since your usual spot in the library was taken, and Michael was still in class, so you didn’t see the point in trying to find an open spot.

Somehow – without you noticing – the guy plopped himself next to you and asked if there were any rooms in the building where he could smoke a joint in.

“Pretty sure you could open the window in the bathroom to smoke in there,” you replied absentmindedly.

And then he put his hand ON YOUR THIGH, leaned to your ear to whisper, “Wanna get out of here to join me? We don’t have only to get high.”

You grabbed all your shit and booked it – out of the building and all the way to your dorm to take a shower that lasted for around twenty minutes. You wanted to get rid of the smell of nicotine and overpriced aftershave. The scent of him on your skin made you wish you could tear it off.

And in your panic, you left your bike at the building’s entrance.

When you returned to retrieve it, it was after dark, and you recruited Michael as your tall and bony human shield.

“Do not ever walk home alone at night,” your mom told you every morning you left for school.

You tried not to think about the haunted look in her eyes each time she told you.

“Wanna skip the dining hall tonight? We can walk to Crowley Street and order take-out at that Pakistani place you like so much.”

Oh, that perked you right up. Jannahs Express was a broke college student’s paradise. The food was cheap, and the owners took pity on the international students. It was slightly more expensive in the UK, but it was the closest you could find with food on par to Kababish on Broadway in Queens. You stifled a laugh remembering the sight of Michael drinking the entire pitcher of water after you dared him to try a dish at ‘regular.’

“Seriously? Do you think you could take more than ‘English-mild’?” you asked as you stood up. “How did you survive your mom’s cooking for so long? She made us Indian food on our last night.”

“Mum grew up in London, and she had neighbors teach her how to make it the traditional way. You’re the only person who could take that level. Lilypad and I got Dad’s taste buds.”

Choking on your spit from laughing at the image of Gregory Gavey’s face turning firetruck red, you felt the migraine slowly disappear.

“Yeah, I’ll bet. God, I can’t imagine the look on his face when –”

A familiar voice that left a bitter taste in your mouth after hearing interrupted your conversation.

“Hey, (Y/N). Can we talk?”

You and Michael turned your heads to find Oliver Quick – Michael’s former friend, your former acquaintance – and the sight of him soured the mood instantaneously. You narrowed your eyes to dangerous slits to show your displeasure seeing him as one corner of your lip curled to show a sneer. You never liked the guy. There was just something about how he acted and presented himself. He had a profound desperation to impress everyone around him.

So much so that he immediately dropped Michael after becoming Felix Catton’s new pet. As evidenced by the oversized gray zip-up hoodie blanketing him. Felix’s, no doubt.

Fuck, you hated him.

“Ugh, what do you want?” you snapped, taking a bit of pleasure in seeing how your voice made him flinch.

“Look, can we –” his eyes hastily darted to Michael, then you, then behind him to make sure no one was watching him “– can we talk in private?”

Seriously? That’s how he wants to play this?

In the corner of your eye, you saw how tightly Michael clenched his fists. He was obviously still hurt from the time his ex-friend treated him like shit.

Oh, this will not do.

“Oliver,” you snarled as you crossed your arms over your chest, “whatever the hell you have to say to me, you can say in front of Michael.”

“Can you please not do this now?” he begged with pathetic eyes. How very in-character of him.

“Tick tock, Quick. Are you going to talk, or do I have to throw a drink in your face again? But this time, I’ll smash the glass on your face, too.”

Seeing the look on his face gave you almost a perverse sense of joy. Maybe this is why bullies exist.

“Do you think you’ll be at the pub sometime this week?”

What the fuck? Was he serious? His question caught you completely off-guard. You expected him to ask for notes or even help with homework, as his grades have slipped since becoming an official Felix Catton fanboy.

“At the pub – Oliver, when have I drunk alcohol in the entire time we’ve known each other?”

“You’ll turn nineteen this year, right? It’s only illegal if you’re under 18,” he tried to put out convincingly.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. But you’re forgetting the part where I’m still an American citizen. Just because it’s legal for me to vote doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to drink yet.”

“No one cares about that here!” he almost shouted. “Just come with me to the pub at King’s Arms for the next few nights.”

“No fucking way,” you scoffed. “My parents would kill me if they found out I drank on a school night. Also, in case you forgot, we still have our test tomorrow in History. And I, for one, don’t need to get sloshed every night to feel important.”

Michael tugged on your sleeve and nodded at the small crowd forming around you three. You sighed in silence, agreeing that it wasn’t worth it. You both tried to walk away, but you were grabbed and stumbled back, which caused you to drop your books.

“Ow! Are you kidding–” but a wince broke your complaint as Oliver’s hold on your arm tightened to a painful grip. Your eyes traveled to his face, and you were shocked to see the anger shining in his eyes.

“Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” he grit out. “Are you trying to ruin my life?”

The way his nails dug into your skin made you curse under your breath. Seeing you in pain broke Michael out of his shock at how someone as meek as Oliver Quick could show so much aggression. He rushed to get him off you.

“Are you fucking mental?” he hissed at Oliver once he managed to separate to two of you.

But Oliver’s nail left red scratch marks down to your wrist, even breaking the skin enough to cause little beads of blood to escape. This enraged Michael like you have never seen. Staring at the evidence of his former friend’s clawing, he walked forward and pushed him to the bookshelf before grabbing his shirt with both hands.

“What’s wrong with you?” Michael yelled. “She already said no!”

You wiped the blood off your arm with an old travel tissue pack you stole from the plane you took from JFK to London last summer. God, everyone was staring at you guys now. You needed to find a way to contain the situation. If any staff catches you, all three of you may risk trouble. Trouble that would jeopardize your scholarships. You grabbed Michael’s hands to get him to loosen his grip.

“Look, I’ll hear you out–” you looked around and cringed at everyone’s stares, “–just not here.”

This calmed Oliver’s rage enough to get Michael to let go.

“Okay,” he whispered, “okay – yeah. Let’s go outside.”

The three of you grabbed your shit and quickly exited the library. You went to the same area behind the building with no windows – ergo, no bystanders to gawk at you.

“Okay, we’re outside. Look, I’m sorry about your arm. But can you please just –”

You lifted your hand to stop him.

“Okay, look. I only said I would hear you out to make you and Michael stop fighting,” you stated matter-of-factly. “None of us could afford to get in trouble with the faculty and staff, and it was getting too out-of-hand. Oliver, I am not going to King Arm’s tonight or any night you ask me. I have my own life, so don’t drag me into yours.”

Oliver gaped like a fish for a few seconds before speaking.

“But you have to! Please! If you do, then maybe he’ll –”

“WHO?” you interrupted, shouting. “Who will be there? Who is so important that you act so fucking psycho for five minutes ago?”

This was too much for you to deal with everything on your plate already.

“Cut the vague bullshit already! Why are you desperate for me to be there? It’s so –” You froze as an epiphany struck down you.

Oh, hell fucking no…

“Are you hoping that Felix will be there?” you asked through clenched teeth.

You felt like a volcano ready to blow with his slight nod. And like a volcano – you blew.

“You mean to tell me that you risked all our asses, attacked, and humiliated me for fucking FELIX CATTON?!”

You couldn’t believe it – you couldn’t fucking believe it. Felix Catton took up so much of your life already; once again, he felt it necessary to take more of it for himself.

How much more could one man take? How much more did he want until it was enough?

He had taken so much – more than any person other than yourself had any right to own. Your education, your peace, and what was next? Your body? Your life? Did he intend to bleed you dry of everything like a parasitic vampire he and his kind pretended not to be?

You were going crazy, insane, and running yourself tired all at once. The absurdity of it all made you laugh. You laughed and laughed and laughed until you were gasping for air. You laughed so hard that tears spilled from your eyes as you doubled over.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god! That’s it. Of course, it is. What else could it be?”

Standing straight, you kept laughing, but you were staring at Oliver with an answer clear in your eyes.

“He got bored of you,” you accused him, “didn’t he? So quickly?”

God, how you relished how red his face turned. If you were smart, you would have stopped taunting there – but you were too tired of everything to care.

“It’s been what? A month? Maybe two?” you further pressed. “He really just loves to go through all his toys, huh?”

“(Y/N),” Michael whispered in your ear, “let’s just go.”

He looked at Oliver with disdainful eyes before softening them to look back at you.

“He isn’t worth it. Come on, let’s get your cut cleaned up before we leave.”

You let Michael gently drag you away from the hurricane mess that was Oliver Quick, leaving him to stew in anger and wallow in self-pity on the chilly spring night.

A few days later, you and Michael were walking back to his dorm after watching one of the most notable movie franchises starring one of Hollywood’s best actors.

“How could you not love Pirates of the Caribbean?” you cried. “Johnny Depp is beyond brilliant!”

“Oh, so acting drunk in front of an expensive camera is now considered brilliant?” he quipped back. “Shit, I should have just gone into acting instead.”

“I’m sorry, do you not remember his jar of dirt? That scene was completely improvised, by the way – including his fall.”

“Oh – not the stupid jar of dirt! Lil’ kept buggering me all summer doing that scene after I took her to see it!”

“Oh, I meant to ask. What did Lily think of the books I got for her birthday? Were they weird?”

“Are you kidding? She loved them. She keeps going on about how she wants to be Annabeth for Halloween. Oh, by the way, she’s making me dress up as Luke and wants you to go as Thalia.”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “Seriously?! Yes, let’s do it. I am so in.”

“She is aware that Luke’s the villain, right?”

“Don’t worry about it so much. She wants to share these memories with you. And you are such a good brother, Mikey.”

“I am never going to escape that name with you,” he groaned, “am I?”

“Nope!” you happily confirmed. “Never! When I write my speech at your wedding, I will mention it at least fifteen times.”

“I’ll allow six.”

“Twelve.”

“Ten, take it or leave it.”

“Ten it is. Pinky-swear.”

You held out your pinky to show sincerity. And like someone raised correctly, Michael respected the sanctity of the swear by reciprocating.

“Perfect! Now that that’s settled, is it okay if I crash at your place for the night? It’s so late, and we don’t have classes tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied. “Just make sure you – Annabel.”

Wait, what? You stopped walking and turned to look at your friend in confusion.

“Annabel?”

He pointed it out in front of him with a slight nod.

“Annabel,” he confirmed.

Indeed, it was Annabel. But she was sitting slumped against the hallway’s walls with vomit all over her blue dress.

Felix had been going mad for the past few months since his and Farleigh’s return to Oxford. It was already almost May, and he hadn’t come any closer to getting (Y/N)’s attention.

What could he possibly be doing that was so wrong?

He invites you to parties or a drink with you every time he sees you. He had hoped that being friends with Ollie would have given him an “in” with you, but there was no such luck. Did you really have no idea how he felt about you? How much more obvious could he be?

He remembered how happy he was when he realized that Oliver knew you. It was that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms. He recalled it so vividly.

Felix was silent throughout the entire transaction. The sight of you coming over entirely transfixed him. Your hair had two small braids on the side that were attached with small yellow butterfly clips. You were wearing black denim overalls with vintage-looking patches sewn onto the fabric. Your shirt was a light blue-dyed shirt-sleeved t-shirt with splotches of navy blue. It must have been something you made when you were little. The fabric looked soft and worn down. But the size was small enough to hug the curves of your upper torso perfectly. The way the fabric stretched across your tits made him salivate.

After he introduced himself to you, you only responded with a grimace and a slight nod of acknowledgment. He invited you to join him and his friends for a drink, but you only ignored him. His words were meaningless breezes to you – white noise in the background that added to the clang and chatter in the room. He wasn’t even paying attention to Oliver until you threw that drink at him.

“Fucking cunt-rag!” you called Ollie after throwing Farleigh’s drink in his face. You shoved a middle finger for added effect. “Don’t ever show your face in front of me again.”

Grabbing your coat, you stomped away from the table.

Absentmindedly handing his friend some tissues, Felix had to know what your deal was with Oliver. Were you two dating or just friends? He didn’t know how he felt about his new friend being romantically involved with his angel.

“Wait, do you two know each other?” he asked.

“What?” asked Oliver – not understanding his idol’s question before his mind finally registered it. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, she’s a friend of a friend.”

“Were you two ever, like ‘together’?” Felix had to know.

Oliver’s eyes widened a bit before shaking his head and panickedly answering.

“No, no, no. We have a few classes together – that’s it.”

Felix couldn’t believe his luck. Ollie must really be his hero.

“Do you think you could introduce us?” he asked excitedly – his molten chocolate eyes were shining ablaze with hope.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Oliver quickly agreed – anything to keep his attention on him.

Felix felt like leaping to the sky. He could run a marathon with how much energy was flooding throughout him. He clapped his hands before grabbing Ollie’s face with both hands and smacking a wet kiss on both cheeks.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Felix went up to get him another pint. “You’re my hero, Ollie. You really are.”

As he lay on his bed, he tried to remember every interaction with you. His last one with you was something he could admit went horribly wrong.

He wandered on the grounds when he stumbled on a building with your bike on the rack. Figuring that you were just in a lecture, Felix figured he could try to catch up with you when it was done. It wasn’t like he had anything important later. He would stay near the entrance and try to catch your attention when you walked out.

Simple.

And because he was God’s favorite, he found you sitting in the middle of an empty classroom. You were taking notes while reading a massive textbook while lightly bobbing your head to whatever was blasting through your earbuds.

Sliding to the seat next to you, he smoothly asked you if there was any room where he could smoke. You didn’t even bother to look at him while answering him – too fixated with your studies to pay attention to him.

Knowing that he had to get you to look at him through more direct actions, Felix impulsively put his hand on your thigh before asking you if you wanted to join him. He even joked, saying that you didn’t only have to get high.

But seeing the terror in your eyes threw him off. He quickly wanted to tell you that he was only joking. If you knew that he wasn’t being serious, maybe you would ease up around him. But before he could apologize, you frantically stood from your seat to gather your books in your bag before running out of the room.

Felix groaned into his hands as he recalled how fast you ran out of the room and away from him.

“Felix, you’re a fucking idiot,” he softly insulted himself.

God, what the hell was wrong with him? Why did he think that someone as studious as you would ever consider getting high with some bloke in the bathroom of an academic building?

Every step he tried to take forward with you felt like he was going ten steps back. He needed to find a way to get on your good side.

Maybe Ollie could – no, that was a dead end. Fuck, he needed a drink.

Lying on his bed, Oliver stared at the ceiling of his room. Annabel had just left with the bottle of vodka they had been drinking out of for the past half hour. He wanted to cry.

Why was everything going wrong?

But he knew the reason. It was you.

He was so naïve to think you wouldn’t be an obstacle. You had practically ruined everything from the beginning. It wasn’t just when you refused to help him the other day but also that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms.

While Felix was ordering him a drink, Oliver sat bewildered at the sequence of events that had transpired in the past five minutes. First, Felix invited him over to sit with him and his friends. And when things had been so well, you interrupted his excellent time by asking where Michael was. When you realize he has left your friend alone, you ask for Farleigh Start’s drink before throwing it in his face. You then called him a “cunt-rag” before storming off like a goddamn child.

Luckily, Felix hadn’t listened to you speak. But that was only because he stared at you – stared at you like he was born to worship you. Even worse, Felix asked him if he could introduce the two of you at some point. The way Felix’s eyes widened in glee when Oliver agreed enraged him – even more than when you insulted and almost humiliated him in front of Felix.

Staring at his back, Oliver figured Felix’s attention on you wasn’t something to worry about. He was only interested in you because you were pretty. As much as you infuriated him, Oliver admitted that you had a rare and genuine beauty to you. He didn’t know whether it was your indifference for Oxford’s gods and kings or your dedication to keeping in touch with your American roots – but it was enough to enrapture Felix Catton temporarily.

No, Oliver Quick had no reason to worry. He would be enough for Felix. And then you would be an afterthought, and he’d be Felix Catton’s everything.

Oliver had to find a way to ensure you wouldn't be a problem anymore. You'd comply - there would come a time when you won't have a choice.

Let me know if you want me to write the full scene of Reader throwing the drink at Oliver!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes

Please comment and/or reblog your thoughts and if you want to be added to the taglist!

[cerise-on-top]

hello lovie! would it be possible to do a T141 with an american S/O? It always makes me giggle when i read them to see the culture differences! thank you lovie!!

Hey! Not gonna lie, I think all of them would almost get a heart attack from the culture shock! I know I do everytime I talk to my American friend! Also, I am neither British nor American, so I don't know a whole lot about either of those countries! I based this off of what my American friends have told me about the States!

TF141 with an American!Reader

Price: The moment you tell him about any of the human rights violations that are completely normal to you regarding your work he feels as though he’s going to die of a culture shock. What the hell do you mean you don’t get paid vacation??? He gets a whooping 28 days off, so why don’t you??? If you even get any days off in the first place. And then there’s the fact that you need to “earn” your sick days. What the hell??? What kind of shithole are the United States if you can’t even stay home when you’re sick??? I feel as though you could genuinely stun him into silence if you tell him those things like they’re the most normal thing in the world. He’s going to grow very concerned with you. Don’t you want to move in with him instead? Live in a new country that respects your rights as a human being at least somewhat? He will genuinely offer you to move in with him here and there, especially if you tell him some more concerning things. Theft at work? Just by picking up a pen from the ground? Really? The more you tell him about the States, the more he comes to resent that country.

Gaz: Oh, the two of you are gonna be arguing a lot. He’s well aware that there are quite a few regional differences with words, but Gaz is going to pretend he’s always right, even if he knows that there’s no right or wrong. Ghost is a leftenant, not a lieutenant. Those are chips and not fries. Love, that’s a bloody biscuit. He smirks at you every time he mentions his superior British English. Call him a colonizer and he’ll shut up, though. In fact, he’ll be super shocked. Seriously? You joke about that? He doesn’t make any jokes about 9/11 either, for example. It’s very surprising to hear how chill you actually are about 9/11, considering how much bad it brought with it. He doesn’t dare to make any jokes about it. He’ll call you Mr./Mx. Oppenheimer, though. He knows it’s disrespectful towards Japan, but if you have the audacity to call him a colonizer of all things, surely you can take a little joke. You gonna shoot the missiles, love? Gonna go to bloody Walmart and buy an AK-47?  He loves you, but man, if he doesn’t need to be there, he doesn’t want to go to the US either.

Ghost: You’re a very perplexing creature. Because??? How can one human being be this loud in public??? Are you not afraid of being judged??? Of getting bludgeoned to death because you looked at a YouTube Short in public??? Naturally, he’ll protect you, but man, you’re very daring. Besides, how can you just??? Walk up to people and talk to them like that??? You don’t know them and you weren’t forced to talk to them either?????? Sure, you’re friendly but?????? Are you not afraid of getting judged in public for your accent or dialect??? You’re an American in England, people are gonna mock you??? You seem to take it in stride, though. Good on you for that one, lovie. But are all Americans willing to be this social??? Do you just walk up to people all the time and talk to them??? Do you not mind your own business at all times??? Congratulations, you’ve confused this man beyond repair just by being American and being a little bit social. Also, how in the world are you this touchy? Just because his touch starvation kills him doesn’t mean he’s gonna do anything about it. And yet here you are, hugging someone you’ve met a few hours ago. What???????

Soap: For Soap, it’s the small things that confuse him. Like, do you just guesstimate how much you pay at the store? Bonnie, what the hell do you mean YOUR STORES DON’T INCLUDE TAXES IN THEIR PRICES?? Also, bonnie, you can actually rely on public transport here in the UK. It’s okay, you don’t have to be afraid of the double decker bus or the metro. Because why in the world do you need a car to get literally anywhere in the world??? Also, why do your housing estates look like that?? It’s all squares?? He’s never gonna let you live down how ugly it all looks. Besides, your houses can literally be blown away this easily as well. You should come live in Scotland with him. This is not a suggestion, by the way, as you will be living there with him eventually. He refuses to live in the US. He’s gonna show you how nice Scotland really is! In fact, he’s gonna give you your very own kilt as well! It’s very comfortable, you should know! This, in actuality, is a bribe to get you to forget about the US. Please, never mention them again. They’re the peace police, but no one likes them, bonnie!!!

[anarchywoofwoof]

on Martin Luther King Jr. day, here's a reminder of his words penned from the interior of a Birmingham, Alabama jail in 1963:

“I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White Citizens Councilor or the Ku Klux Klanner but the White moderate who is more devoted to ‘order’ than to justice.”

while liberals and self-proclaimed moderates will flock to social media today to post their MLK quotes and laud the achievements of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., it's important to keep in mind that Dr. King wasn't always popular with the average american. in the 1960s, public opinion was mixed until around 1966 when his popularity fell off a cliff.

and despite his starkly positive posthumous approval rating, one could argue that Dr. King would not be nearly as popular today if he was still among the living.

King was a strong critic of the Vietnam War and a fierce advocate for labor rights. he spent time in jail, was being followed by the FBI, was charged with having communist sympathies despite his outspoken criticism of the communist party, and was adamantly opposed to poverty and wealth disparity - he actually believed in a guaranteed income. in the modern world, he would not be praised for holding these views.

we do a disservice to Dr. King's legacy and all that he worked for when we choose to celebrate a sanitized version of him that is full of quotes taken out of context and nebulous ideals about peace and harmony; yes, he supported nonviolence when possible. however, as with everyone, his views and convictions changed and evolved with time. his notions about what constituted "resistance" were complex, disruptive, and often culminated in violence by those on opposing sides. furthermore, Dr. King was a staunch opponent of capitalism and the type of society that it creates.

when we celebrate Martin Luther King Jr Day, we celebrate the ideals that he championed. that includes the views that many people find scary and "radical" in today's world.

[wolven91]

Drought vs Flood

Cat calls.

Being called 'cute' or showered with compliments.

Paul had never really considered these an annoyance before. Hell, if he though back to his time on Earth, he couldn't remember the last time when he'd ever received a compliment from a stranger before.

No, that was a lie he realised.

Many years before, an older lady once stopped him to compliment him on a jovial Christmas jumper he'd worn. She said she liked it and that he was handsome in it too. He vividly remembered having a great day that day, despite having to deal with a queue of irate customers throughout the afternoon.

That compliment had kept the man sated for years!

As a man, Paul had never really understood the frustrations of women when they bemoaned the fact that they received compliments and manners from random strangers every day. The man would always hasten to add that he understood them from a logical point of view, but there was always a part of him that had wanted a taste of that life for a while.

Sure, maybe getting them every day might have gotten old, but after over a decade of surviving off one compliment? The man didn't *understand* the frustration. The isolation had to be worse right?

That was until the Earth was destroyed and Paul ended up like a few of his fellow humans, lost amongst the stars as a human, alone in the void.

At first, Paul thrived. He'd lived alone for seven years and with his friends moving away, getting families, or just losing touch; there had been times in his life where he'd gone whole weeks without saying a single word out loud.

After that initial period of learning the ropes, figuring out where he could get a job, food, even the stuff that wasn't quite 'legal' like a drink, Paul settled into what he expected would be a quiet life.

Only, every time he spent time out in public, like when he went to sit in the tiny bar that would serve him under the counter, it wasn't that quiet.

"I just love your fur; can I touch it?" Asked the bull-like alien as they had already begun reaching out and touching thick leather pads to the crop of hair atop Paul's head. The man shoved the alien's wrist away from him.

"No, thank you." He grunted, still hunched at the bar, uncomfortable about the two aliens that stood either side of him. Both were, alien, they had the heads of bulls but bodies that he would have given his left arm for back home. But regardless of their physical attraction, this was week three of not being able to have a single moment's peace outside of his own quarters.

"Oh come on, I read you love it when someone pets you?" Smarmed the second, quoting some bullshit, pardon the pun, text that Paul himself had read. Apparently, a few of the survivors had let slip that they were touch starved, so now every alien and their mother was quoting this as if gospel.

If Paul ever got his hands on the moron that uttered those...

"Not all humans are the same." He growled back, gripping his drink.

"Well, what if I showed you a gun? You like guns, right?" Offered the first taurian, briefly turning their hip and displaying a holster.

"I repeat, not all humans are the same." Paul was British, he thought guns were a tool and nothing more. No more exciting than a pen or a pair of expensive scissors. More than a handful of Americans made it out and had made a huge scene when they found out guns were illegal to humans. Yet more misinformation chumming the water.

"Aww come on, we're just being friendly. It's okay! I also read that your society said you had to be prudes; it's not true, you can relax." The alien explained as if she wasn't taking a big dump on the entire human civilisation and its history.

Paul sneered at the fact that he mildly agreed. The odd concepts that were considered fact back home were outright frowned on up here. With all the fur and lack of breasts on those without; clothes were almost optional by those not actively working. Granted Paul wasn't a nudist and didn't have the body to want to flaunt it, but it was a breath of fresh air to not be so gummed down with social rules.

"I was relaxed," Paul sniped, but the jab went well over the two female taurian's horns. "I just want a quiet drink." He reiterated, breathing deep and remaining calm. The sluggat barkeep watched him carefully, his eye stalks watching the taurians and the human independently. He was hanging around by the bar's emergency distress button.

"We can drink with you." Offered one of them, Paul didn't even bother looking now, instead attempting to drill a hole in the opposite wall with his eyes.

"I don't want company." He explained clearly.

"Why not?" They prodded.

"Because I said so."

"That ain't a real answer, just let us-"

"Can you actually fuck off?!" Paul snapped, turning his body to the last one to speak. "I don't want company, I don't want a drink from you, I want to be left alone!"

"Alright, fuck us, right? We were being nice and now you're acting like we're attacking you. We're the nice ones, but I guess you'll only learn that when you meet the other kind."

Paul just rolled his eyes as the pair stepped away from the bar and, as one walked past, clipped the leg of the stool Paul was sat on, jangling his already on edge nerves.

They grunted something as they passed that the translators flagged as an insult.

Paul rubbed a hand over his face as he sighed and tried to relax. The sluggat slithered over and asked if he was all right.

"Yeah, I'm... I'm fine." The man replied absently, using a thumb to wick the moisture off the side of his glass.

A drought, versus a flood.

That was how Paul now considered the perspective from before. How he would explain the difference of perspectives to a younger self.

How could the drowning woman understand the dying man in the desert?

It was great to be the centre of attention for a week or two, but the way they got handsy? If he didn't actively stop them, and make it clear he wasn't 'playing hard to get' that they'd start groping him?  The way they didn't give him space or even listen when he said 'no'?

Even when they were weird... and smelt bad... Not all the creatures up here were attractive.

"Fuck." The man drew the word out with a breath he only realised was shaking as his voice shuddered. With a guilty grimace, the man reached into his pocket and retrieved the data slate. He scrolled through the minimal contacts and selected his guardian.

It rang once before being answered by a near frantic voice that was obviously being kept neutral.

"Paul?"

"Hey Shu'ba. I fucked up... Can you... Can you come get me please?" The man asked humbly.

"Is everything alright?!"

"It's fine, nothing's happened, but I'd feel safer if you were near."

"I got your location, I'm two minutes away."

"Thanks, Shu'ba."

"Don't think anything of it."

"I'm sorry."

The voice of the ssypno sighed through the speaker.

"I get it's hard to have a babysitter, but we're here for a reason. It's okay, I'm almost there."

Paul stayed on the line, even though he and the sluggat were the only patrons of the bar, but when the neon green scales of his guardian slithered into the room, a wave of relief washed over him.

Perhaps it was time to stop giving the serpent the slip?

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

[mikelogan]

TAYLOR ALISON SWIFT is an American singer-songwriter recognized for her songwriting, musical versatility, artistic reinventions, and influence on the music industry.

Swift has been referred to as one of the greatest songwriters of all time by several publications. English-language scholars have noted that her literary and melodic sensibility and verbal writing style are rare amongst her peers. Swift divides her writing into three types: "quill lyrics," referring to songs rooted in antiquated poeticism; "fountain pen lyrics," based on modern and vivid storylines; and "glitter gel pen lyrics," which are lively and frivolous. Swift has influenced numerous music artists and her albums have inspired an entire generation of singer-songwriters. Journalists praise her ability to reform industry practices, noting how her actions changed streaming policies, prompted awareness of intellectual property in new musicians, and reshaped ticketing models. Senior artists such as Paul McCartney, Mick Jagger, Madonna, and Dolly Parton have praised her musicianship. Carole King regards Swift her "professional granddaughter" and thanked her for "carrying the torch forward." Springsteen called her a "tremendous" writer, while Ringo Starr and Billy Joel considered Swift the Beatles' successor. Britney Spears labeled Swift "the most iconic pop woman of our generation."

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I discovered my best friend is following ARO on Instagram. When I confronted her over this horrific betrayal, she said, “I think I like her now!” My devastation knows no bounds.

I was discussing this with my boss, a fellow royal watcher, and we decided I need to make a PowerPoint presentation, complete with citations (we are lawyers, after all), “shining a light” on MM’s numerous atrocities and proven lies over the years. I thought you would be invaluable in such a venture. Any suggestions to include would be very much appreciated!

Old ask from March 18th

Ok, so I didn't mean to sit on this one for (checks calendar) 6 MONTHS. ohhh, that's worse than I thought. Sorry, anon. Your ask got completely buried.

Anyway. I actually have been keeping a list of Meghan's lies and falsities. I don't remember when I compiled it (I feel like it might've been a 2022 thing) and I forgot I had it for a very long time. We'll probably need to crowd-source some updates to this list.

So buckle up, y'all.

Grew up an only child

Never had relationships with Sam or Tom

Grew up poor eating Sizzler buffets for splurge dinners

Didn't know who Diana was

Didn't know that Diana did Panorama interview

Lied about having a SAG card to be cast in Suits

That she was being written off Suits because she was marrying Harry

Doesn't have any family except Doria

Paid for college herself with student loans

International relations and theatre degrees from Northwestern

Merch tour of Aussie with Jess

Didn't want to serve Archie on a silver platter

Couldn't do a photo call at the hospital after Archie's birth

Wasn't in contact with Oprah

Wasn't working with UK Vogue

Lilac blazers

Couldn't wear the same color as anyone else

Could only wear neutral clothes

Wasn't dressing her child like a Victorian ghost doll

Going to get her UK citizenship

Gave up her Hollywood team

Spectacle wedding for the public

Eloped three days before with the Archbishop of Canterbury

Loves her engagement ring

Received permission from Queen to name her Lilibet

Loves Africa

Loves charity work and philanthropy

Red carpet for wedding

No tabloids in the US

All Americans have a 5am work ethic

Paparazzi chases

Plagiarism

Korean spas as a kid

Collaboration with Scobie on FF

People letter

Archewell donations and income

Family she never had

Gave up everything

IVF twins

Pregnancy announcement not at Eugenie's wedding

Loves kids

Dog too old to fly

Dog hit by car

Couldn't decorate with royal collection

Kate made Meghan cry

Warm friendly relationship with Queen

Best boss ever

She made her own banana bread

Suicidal thoughts night of Cirque du Soleil

Advised by Obamas

Children refused titles because of racism

She refuses children's titles

Pen pals with Hillary Clinton

Witnessed the LA riots

Independent grassroots journalism

Hit the ground running

5'5

worked at the embassy when she only attended a study program

Didn't know she had to curtsy to the Queen

Didn't know how to curtsy

BRF took her passport, car keys

Not allowed to go out unless just for work

Climate change/private jets

Evicted from Frogmore

Royal Family refused to help Meghan with her mental health

That Meghan was silenced

Privacy in LA

Archie was denied 24/7 protection because he wasn't a prince

Family gossip about Archie's skin color

Palace forced Meghan to take her name off Archie's birth certificate

Egg in wedding food

Not allowed to have scents in church

Meghan said the palace was locking up the birth certificate

Angela refused hair trials

Bond girl

Fire in Archie's nursery

Linked, not ranked

Archie too young to fly (summer after his birth)

Lied about her age (to work in Hollywood, narrative since corrected since marrying in)

Belly padding

Bot farms on social media

Miscarriage

Zoom calls with Cambridges during lockdown

Zoom calls with the Queen during lockdown

Flowers on Philip's casket at funeral were from Sussexes

Sussexes were invited to the Beckham wedding

Royal christening for Lili

Lili baptized

Invited to the diplomatic reception before The Queen's funeral

BFF/dog-walking buddies with Jennifer Aniston

Photoshops the children's appearances

Jimmy Fallon interview in Dec 2022

Time 100th Anniversary coverage

Bodyguard 2

she’d have 40 photographers taking pictures when she did Archie’s school run.

Sussexes declined invitation to Westminster wedding

She made the strawberry jam herself

50 jars of jam

"The Bench" was a bestseller

Visiting/staying with Oprah (Oprah was across the country at her father's bedside)

All the times she said she'd be a secret presenter at Hollywood award shows

Uvalde

Can't tailor her clothes to fit because they're from small brands/labels.

[opencommunion]

The producer, artistic director, and an educator at The Freedom Theatre in Jenin were kidnapped alongside over 100 other Palestinians today (13 Dec 23). The Freedom Theatre is a hub of cultural resistance and artistic community in the occupied West Bank.

Join me in calling on theatre institutions to demand the immediate release of these kidnapped artists. Here's the email I'm sending; feel free to copy but please adjust the phrasing to avoid spam filters: "Today in Jenin refugee camp, The Freedom Theatre's artistic director Ahmed Tobasi, producer Mustafa Sheta, and acting teacher Jamal Abu Joas were taken hostage by the Israeli army alongside over one hundred other Palestinian civilians. This follows the murder of three Freedom Theatre artists in the last few weeks: Yamen Jarrar (17), Jehad Naghniyeh (26), and Mohammed Matahen (30). The global theatre community must stand up in support of artists persecuted by the occupation regime. There is extensive documentation of torture in Israeli occupation detention centers. I urge [name of organization] to issue a public statement demanding the immediate release of these hostages. Here's a recent article about The Freedom Theatre's work with traumatized children: [AJ link above]" I'm also adding a brief statement from my perspective as a theatre artist, expressing my disappointment in my local and national theatre scene for its silence. If you're a theatre artist or theatre-goer I encourage you to do the same! The international and US institutions I'm emailing: International Society for the Performing Arts - dbaile@ispa.org, mdriscoll@ispa.org, rjohnson@ispa.org, zcheng@ispa.org International Theatre Institute - info@iti-worldwide.org, hessa@cpo.fujairah.ae International Amateur Theatre Association - secretariat@aitaiata.net Theatre Without Borders - info@theatrewithoutborders.com ASSITEJ - president@assitej-international.org, sg@assitej-international.org, chris@assitej-international.org International Federation for Theatre Research - marcus.tan@nie.edu.sg IDEA- info@idea-austria.org International Schools Theatre Association - office@ista.co.uk, tom@ista.co.uk, helen@ista.co.uk, keriann@ista.co.uk Theatre for Young Audiences USA - info@tyausa.org, sbfala@gmail.com, saramorgulis@gmail.com American Association of Community Theatre - quiana@aact.org, david@aact.org, dvancleave@aact.org American Theatre Wing - mailbox@americantheatrewing.org, rachel@americantheatrewing.org American Theatre Magazine - rwkendt@tcg.org, ksmith@tcg.org, apierson@tcg.org, jpierce@tcg.org American Alliance for Theatre and Education - heidischo@gmail.com American Society for Theatre Research - president@astr.org, info@astr.org Theater of War - marjolaine@theaterofwar.com, bryan@theaterofwar.com Actors' Equity - jrice@actorsequity.org, kshindle@actorsequity.org, wcarter@actorsequity.org, abundonis@actorsequity.org The Broadway League - league@broadway.org PEN America - info@pen.org, education@pen.org Please also email organizations where you live, and any personal contacts in the performing arts. You can also tag organizations in the comments of The Freedom Theatre's posts on ig @.thefreedomtheatre

[antidrumpfs]

In an op-ed published by the Arizona Republic on Monday, Giles made the case for Harris as president over his own party’s nominee, former President Donald Trump.

The Grand Canyon State is ground zero in the fight against repeated false claims to disrupt our electoral process — from fake presidential electors attempting to undermine Arizona’s election, to a sham “audit” by Arizona Senate Republicans that was spurred by conspiracy theories.

Significant reforms to immigration and border policies that would have addressed the crisis at our southern border were blocked by Trump because he didn’t want the problem solved. He wanted to exploit it for personal political gain.

Since 2014, I have had the honor of being mayor of Mesa, the nation’s 36th-largest city and one of the most conservative. Under Trump, American cities didn’t get the support they deserved. Infrastructure week was made into a joke.

But under the Biden-Harris administration, Mesa has seen historic federal funding for the Phoenix-Mesa Gateway Airport, along with investments to make sure our streets and public transit systems benefit from modern technology.

With the CHIPS Act, Vice President Kamala Harris and President Joe Biden are delivering thousands of new jobs to Arizonans and helping us grow critical industries.

Vice President Harris is fighting to make sure Americans can get ahead and be safe from gun violence and to restore and protect the rights of women. Donald Trump, on the other hand, could enact the extreme and dangerous Project 2025 agenda if elected, which would roll back our rights and freedoms.

We can choose a future for our children and grandchildren based on decency, respect and morality — or succumb to the crudeness and vulgarity of Trump and JD Vance and the far-right agenda they would champion.

Arizona leaders like McCain and Sen. Mark Kelly have embodied the commitment to country over party. And it’s that same high caliber of character and leadership I see in Vice President Harris.

*********************************************************************

Giles is not the only border state politician endorsing Harris. Her campaign told the Associated Press that a slew of mayors from Arizona border cities — “Bisbee, Nogales, Somerton, and San Luis, as well as by Yuma County Supervisors Martin Porchas and Tony Reyes” — “backed” Harris for president. Somerton Mayor Gerardo Anaya said of Harris in a statement: “I trust her to meet the needs of border cities and towns without taking advantage of us for her own political gain, like her opponent.”

[ef-1]

I’ve just recently got into f1 and I keep seeing people saying that George and other drivers on the grid were protective of Daniel during the 2022 season, what it be possible to get some context ti that?

hiiiiiii welcome (+ I'm sorry you got into f1)

yeah drivers rallied around Daniel in 2022 when he lost his seat but it really was predominantly George and Seb who were supportive/protective/defensive beyond anything I've seen in f1.

off the top of my head (and I'll probably miss alot), but some notable occurrences were

when rumours around Daniel losing his seat first started circulating, there was intially the sense that mclaren wanted to replace Daniel with Herta, who's an American indycar driver. That very same weekend they basically asked George about those rumours, f1 media was talking non-stop about the now real possibility of an American driver on the grid. Specifically, an American outlet asked George if he was excited for that prospect, to which he was brutal to the point of rudeness, IIRC at some point they tried to get a fun answer out of him so they asked:" what drives you mad about American drivers/ what do you like about American drivers" and he deadass replied something like"nothing, I don't think I know any of them anyway" and then for the next couple of weeks he would not stop talking about how no American deserves that seat lol

Famously the weekend Daniel lost his seat he was v withdrawn and that awful photo of him sitting alone before the drivers parade took social media by storm in literally a couple of hours.

And around 3 hours later, before the race start, George saw Daniel sitting alone again and just glued himself next to him, followed by Alex and Mick

The following week George entred the paddock on a race weekend wearing Daniel's merch. Hasn't really stopped since then, he wears Daniel's merch to Merc parties and 2 weeks ago to dinner with his parents lol

The latter part of '22 saw George attach himself to Daniel during parades and in the media pen and also off the track, a really cute connection had clearly developed between them

As for Seb, where do I start. when he iconically, scathingly said in reply to being asked about daniel losing that: Daniel's struggles were a failure on McLaren and constituted their own inability to extract Daniel's talent. It was honestly so shocking when he just attacked them like that

Whatever Seb did for Daniel that year, Daniel still has trouble talking about it. For 2 years now, whenever daniel is asked who he considers a friend he'll say seb. Who stood by him? Seb. And, most tellingly, everytime Daniel speaks about the support Seb has shown him, he makes sure to point out that Seb somehow did infinitely more for him in private than he did in public.