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verfound · 6 days

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FIC: "Cookie Teeth" (MLB; Lukanette; LBSC Lukanette Month 2024)

@lovebugs-and-snakecharmers is doing a Lukanette Month for September 2024, and we all just kinda tossed some prompts in the disco to compile a list? We ended up with 71 prompts, so I decided I’d roll some dice to pick a prompt, do a twenty minute (ish, bc we all know sometimes they run away from me) sprint, and try to get some short fics out this month?

Read on Ao3

Prompt 19: Thief

“Hey!”

Luka jumped at the shout, the macaron tumbling from his fingers as he jumped back. He looked up to see a girl with short black pigtails angrily stomping towards him. Her face was red and puffed out in anger, her blue eyes sparking…kinda like Ma’s did when Uncle Roger came to ‘visit’. She stopped in front of him, her hands placed firmly on her hips, and peered up at him.

…she was so tiny. Like…tinier than Juleka, and Juleka was pretty tiny. And yet…for as tiny as she was, he was fairly certain she could kick his butt if she wanted to.

She’d bite his ankles, at least. She looked like an ankle-biter.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” she asked, rocking forward onto her toes to make herself just a little taller. He leaned back, but she just followed. He held up his hands in defense, which might not have been the best idea: there was still a half-eaten macaron in his one hand. “You’re only s’pposed to take one!”

“…I did,” he said, waving the one in his hand. She puffed out her cheeks again and stomped her foot. She pointed to the ground where the second one he’d been about to take was lying in crumbles.

“You was taking another!” she huffed. “That’s two!”

Congratulations, you can count, he might have said, if she had been his sister and not a total stranger.

“But it wasn’t for me!” he said instead, hoping to get her off his back. He pointed across the park, where his sister was still playing in the sandbox. Ma was still sitting on the bench nearby, laughing with another parent. “See? That’s my sister. I was getting one for her. And my ma. One for each of us.”

“The sign says take one,” the girl insisted, folding her arms across her chest. Her white shirt had pink flowers on it surrounding a smiling cat. He couldn’t help but think a shirt that happy didn’t belong on someone so…not. “You was takin’ three! If they want one, they gotta come get ‘em!”

He was about to argue – or maybe just agree and go get Juleka anyway – when a huuuuuuuuuuge man walked up, chuckling, and patted the little girl’s shoulder.

“Now, now, mon choux,” he said, his mustache twitching with his smile, “I think we can be a little lenient, don’t you? He wasn’t trying to take them all for himself.”

“He was!” she insisted. “Papa, he’s a teeth!”

…he was a what?

“You worked so hard on those, and he’s just stealing them!” she continued, and his eyes widened.

“Hey! I’m not a teeth…thief!” he cried. “I was just taking them for my ma and sister – honest!”

“Marinette, sweetheart, that’s enough,” the man said, sighing. He knelt down and turned her towards him, frowning. “It’s all right. He can take more than one – we made them to share, didn’t we?”

“But…but…the sign…” the girl insisted, her voice warbly, but the man just shook his head with a smile.

“Maybe this time we go more with the spirit of the law and less the actual letter of it?” he asked, tapping her nose. She looked back over at Luka, her eyes watery, and seemed to study him for a long moment before nodding. She slipped out of the man’s hold and ran back over to the table where an older woman with short, dark hair was handing a box over to a super old guy with eyebrows as big as his mustache. She swiped a long, thin box from the table and ran back over to him.

“Here,” she said, shoving the box at him. She still looked uncertain. “I’m sorry. You can take these.”

The man smiled, nodding in approval, and she shoved them a bit closer. Luka blinked as he reached up to take the box. What the heck…?

“Thanks…?” he asked. His eyes widened when he opened the box to find it was a whole box full of macarons. “Oh, wow, you really don’t –”

“I’m sorry!” Marinette insisted, stepping back when he tried to hand the box back to her. “…even if you are a teeth!”

She turned and ran back to the table where the woman – her ma, he assumed – was waiting. She tucked herself into the woman’s shirt…dress…thing, peeking back at him when her ma laid a hand on her back. The man chuckled and shook his head.

“…it’s thief!” Luka called, his brow furrowing. “And I’m not!” He looked back at the box of macarons, frowning. “…I’m a pirate.”

“Enjoy the macarons, son,” the man said, chuckling as he patted a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about Marinette. She’s…a little particular about things like signs. She really didn’t mean any offense.”

Luka nodded, but then he puffed his cheeks out as he stared at the girl still watching him suspiciously from where she could barely see over the table the bakery had set up for the neighborhood fair.

“…I’m not a tee…thief,” he said, looking up at the man. “I’m not.”

“I know,” the man said. He waved him a bit closer, and once Luka had stepped over to him he leaned in to whisper in his ear: “Marinette would never tell you, but she’s a notorious cookie ‘teeth’ herself.”

His eyes widened, and he leaned around the man to stare at Marinette. When she saw he was looking at her again, she scrunched up her face and stuck her tongue out at him. His eyes popped open, and the man laughed as he patted his shoulder.

“Go on, son,” he said, nodding at him. “Enjoy your macarons.”

Luka nodded and turned to head back to his ma, but he gave one last look at the little girl by the table before he left. She stuck her tongue out at him again, and he tried not to bristle.

…Juleka would probably love her. They were both brats.

#miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #tom dupain #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #ml fic #ver fic #lbsc lukanette month 2024 #prompt: thief #childhood au #meet as kids #there's no real relationship here?#but we all know it's lukanette #cmon

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onlyhaos · 6 months

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🎐 — Happily Yours

Things can get awkward, if it’s the start of a relationship, right? But as long as it’s the right person, it’s only half as embarrassing.

pairing: minghao x afab!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: reader poked their eye, they’re both awkwardly in love but also not😭

[a/n] I actually had sm fun writing this small fic, and I want to thank everyone for the support on my last fics🥹🥹 I felt so proud of myself that people liked it. There are some chinese words, (with explanations!!) correct me if there’s something wrong or needs to be fixed🫶🏼 Love you all💞💞

This was your first real relationship. And being in that relationship, where you’d go on dates and everything made you want to be as perfect as possible. Though you couldn’t always be perfect, no one could.

So when Minghao invited you over, you didn’t know what was awaiting you.

Dressing into the summer dress Minghao once complimented you in, you made your way over to his house.

Since it didn’t take that long to walk to where he lived, you took the walk through the park. Listening to your favorite songs.

Smiling to yourself, you admire the green grass, the beautiful trees and the sun that’s warming up your already glowing face.

As you keep walking you see some flowers, blue flaxes. The thought of Minghao immediately came into your mind, he loved all flowers.

You picked up the five most prettiest ones, and continued walking.

So when you arrived at your destination, you rang the doorbell. Patiently waiting for Minghao to open it. But as the door opened, someone else stood there.

Minghao’s mother was at the door, you thought she wouldn’t know who you were, but she immediately smiled and welcomed you inside.

“Well hello! Y/n, right?” She asked with a smile.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m Y/n, hello Āyí*” your smile bright as you spoke. (*阿姨 - used for boyfriend’s mother, "mother-in-law“ before marriage)

“Dear, you can call me Māma*. I’m fine with that” She responded, her hand gently laying on your shoulder as she spoke. (妈妈 - Mother, also used to address mother in law)

“Okay, I’ll do that, Māma. Oh! And, I know it’s not much, but I saw some blue flaxes in the park. I didn’t want to come empty handed, take two!” You spoke, practically beaming with joy.

Minghao’s mother was really grateful, even if you only brought two flowers for her. She knew that they were handpicked, and that’s what brought value to such a small gesture.

And when you looked to the side you saw Minghao. He was just observing the both of you with a small grin on his face.

Following him to his room, he began talking. “Did you really prepare everything, in case you’d actually meet my parents?” He asked.

“Yea.. I did, I want to be as respectful as possible. Was it wrong?” You questioned, sounding a bit unsure.

Minghao shook his head. “It’s not wrong at all, it’s just really adorable.” He chuckled.

You laughed, asking him if it was really that adorable like he said. Earning a small ‘Yeah’ from him.

Looking around in his room, you noticed the easel that stood in the corner of his room. He was drawing right now, a somewhat blue canvas stood on the easel.

“Are you drawing the ocean?” You asked, hearing Minghao hum in approval.

“It’s pretty.”

“Thank you, it’s not done yet, but if you already like it then it’s a good sign.” He smiled shyly.

“Hao,” You said as you turned to him, who was already looking at you, waiting for your next words. “I also got us these flowers, they even fit perfectly to your drawing.”

Minghao was greatful, you were always really attentive and loving towards him. You treated him just like he treated you, but it still made him feel special every single time.

He thanked you, and observed the flowers the second you showed them to him, even asking questions about them. (even though you barely knew anything about them, they just reminded you of your boyfriend)

And even though he liked all flowers equally, he swore to himself that this flower would be his favorite from now on until forever.

Other people didn’t appreciate small things like you and Minghao did, the smallest things for each other lit up the other one’s day immediately. Because it came from your heart, they were sincere gifts.

Out of nowhere, Minghao had an idea. Going to one of his shelves he pulled out his newest sketchbook.

“Let’s put them into my sketchbook, we can let them dry and put our names next to it. Only — if you want to though.” He spoke, the undertones of the sentence were filled with excitement.

“Let’s totally do that!” You responded. “We can make those finger hearts I saw online. They were adorable.” Your voice proud as you told him about it.

Opening the first page of his sketchbook, you both laid your designated flower down on the paper. After moving them around, both of you were still contemplating if it had to be moved or not.

“Like this?”

“Mhm, that looks nice.”

A smile on both of your faces. Both of you decided to put your flowers into corners. Minghao’s flower was at the top left, while yours was on the bottom right.

Satisfied with the placement, both of you used tiny bits of glue to stick the flower to the page.

Making sure it was finally dried, you both began writing your names under the flower.

Both of you happily agreed to writing the date that you both got together down in the middle.

Grinning happily, you began speaking.

“It‘s so pretty.“

“It really is.” Minghao said, but not looking at the page. He was looking at you.

You didn’t notice that he was looking at you, so you began talking about how happy and grateful you were. How pretty everything was, how good the flowers looked —

“Y/n,” Minghao interrupted, his eyes still fixated on you.

Turning your head, you looked at him with a slightly lifted brow. Waiting for him to continue, what he was about to say.

“I love you.” He chuckled.

Your cheeks immediately went red, even though both of you said that already, it never failed to get you flustered.

“I love you, too, Hao.” You chuckled back, until a comfortable silence filled the room.

Staring at each other’s lips, from time to time, Minghao began moving closer to you. Gently resting his fingers against your waist, letting them slide down to your hip. Making your eyes widen and follow his hand’s movements.

But Minghao quickly put his other hand under your chin, making you gaze up at him, again.

Locking eyes, both of you were focused on each other. Inching closer and closer, making you get more shy than before.

Leaning in even more, both of you forgot to tilt your heads. And with your eyes closed, you were ready to kiss, wanting to close the gap so eagerly.

You noticed that you didn’t meet any lips though, but sure did meet some glasses, whining you noticed that Minghao’s glasses poked the shit out your eye.

With a small “Ah—“ your hand immediately flew to your eye. Rubbing it quickly.

Opening your other eye to make sure your lover was okay, you saw him chuckling and wincing a bit.

“Are you okay?—“

“Yea.” You said, having to realize the situation first, before you both began giggling with Minghao apologizing over and over again. Even though both of you weren’t careful.

So here you were, with a small ice pack on your eye as you both didn’t stop laughing about the kiss.

Even though you both agreed that it was a bit embarrassing, you settled for another kiss and let the previous ‘kiss’ be a new memory to laugh at.

#minghao x reader #minghao fluff #xu minghao #minghao fanfic

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 1 year

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By: Leor Sapir and Colin Wright

Published: Jun 9, 2023

A federal court on Tuesday temporarily blocked enforcement of a Florida law that prohibits the administration of sex-change procedures on children under 18. The opinion, by Judge Robert L. Hinkle, leans heavily on medical and scientific rationales to argue that it is unconstitutional to ban the use of puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones and surgery on teenagers who feel alienated from their bodies.

Twenty states maintain age restrictions on sex-change procedures, and the problem they face is explaining to judges that American medical associations aren’t following the best available evidence. This is known to European health authorities and has been reported in such prestigious publications as the British Medical Journal. But American judges need some way to evaluate conflicting scientific authorities—especially as institutions responsible for ensuring that medical professionals have access to high-quality research aren’t functioning as they should.

A case in point: Springer, an academic publishing giant, has decided to retract an article that appeared last month in the Archives of Sexual Behavior. The retraction is expected to take effect June 12.

The article’s authors are listed as Michael Bailey and Suzanna Diaz. Mr. Bailey is a well-respected scientist, with dozens of publications to his name. The other author writes under a pseudonym to protect the privacy of her daughter, who suffers from gender dysphoria.

Their new paper is based on survey responses from more than 1,600 parents who reported that their children, who were previously comfortable in their bodies, suddenly declared a transgender identity after extensive exposure to social media and peer influence. Mr. Bailey’s and Ms. Diaz’s sin was to analyze rapid onset gender dysphoria, or ROGD. Gender activists hate any suggestion that transgender identities are anything but innate and immutable. Even mentioning the possibility that trans identity is socially influenced or a phase threatens their claims that children can know early in life they have a permanent transgender identity and therefore that they should have broad access to permanent body-modifying and sterilizing procedures.

Within days of publication, a group of activists wrote a public letter condemning the article and calling for the termination of the journal’s editor. Among the letter’s signatories is Marci Bowers, a prominent genital surgeon and president of the World Professional Association for Transgender Health, an advocacy organization that promotes sex changes for minors.

Nearly 2,000 researchers and academics signed a counter letter in support of the article. Springer nonetheless decided to retract the paper without disciplining its editor. Springer initially asserted that the study needed approval from an institutional review board. But it quickly abandoned that rationale, which was false.

The publisher now maintains that the retraction is due to improper participant consent. While the respondents consented to the publication of the survey’s results, Springer insists they didn’t specifically agree to publication in a scholarly or peer-reviewed journal. That’s a strange and retrospective requirement, especially considering that Springer and other major publishers have published thousands of survey papers without this type of consent.

Anyone familiar with the controversy over transgender medicine knows what is going on. Activists put pressure on Springer to retract an article with conclusions they didn’t like, and Springer caved in. We’ve become accustomed to seeing these capitulations in academia, media and the corporate world, but it is especially disturbing to see in a respected medical journal.

Rather than appreciate the long-term risk to itself and the scientific community from doing the bidding of activists, Springer has instead agreed to evaluate and retract all survey papers that lack the newly required consent. If Springer follows through on its promise, hundreds of authors who chose to publish in Springer’s journals may have their research retracted.

The publications that support what they call “gender-affirming care” rely heavily on surveys. The U.S. Transgender Survey of 2015, for instance, has generated several influential papers. As it happens, the USTS didn’t inform participants that their answers would be published in peer-reviewed journals.

This kind of double standard runs through gender-medicine research. Papers advocating “gender transition” are readily accepted by leading scientific journals despite having grave methodological flaws and biases. Work that questions gender-transition orthodoxy stands almost no chance of being published in the best-known journals. Every now and then, an errant research paper slips past the censors, but should it prove significant enough to threaten the settled science narrative, retribution is swift and merciless. The researcher Lisa Littman learned this lesson in 2018, when she was widely attacked after publishing on the topic. Mr. Bailey and Ms. Diaz are learning it now.

The idea is to manufacture the appearance of scientific consensus where there is none. The pseudo-consensus then allows such American medical associations as the American Academy of Pediatrics and the Endocrine Society to recommend body-altering procedures for children.

While many Americans have heard news about the wave of states passing legislation that curbs sex changes for the young, few realize that an equally fierce, and arguably far more important, battle is raging: the battle for the integrity of the scientific process. It is a fight for the ability to have censorship-free scientific debate as a means to advance human knowledge.

Here's the thing: even if it's wrong, you refute it by making a better scientific case, with better evidence. You show where the flaws are. You don't throw a hissy-fit and cry until it goes away.

#Leor Sapir #Colin Wright #medical corruption #academic corruption #ROGD #rapid onset gender dysphoria #social contagion #gender ideology #genderwang #queer theory #religion is a mental illness

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justinspoliticalcorner · 1 month

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Erin Reed at Erin In The Morning:

In an interview with ABC News on Sunday, JD Vance claimed that Minnesota Governor and Harris VP running mate Tim Walz signed a bill allowing the state to kidnap a transgender child if their parents did not approve of their transition. However, the bill Vance referenced actually provides refuge for transgender youth and their parents fleeing unsafe states where their care is criminalized. The legislation contains no provision allowing the state to “kidnap” children when their parents do not support their gender transition. These claims arise from an intentional misinterpretation of a provision that specifically applies to custody disputes between parents in different states. In the interview, Vance sat down with "This Week" co-anchor Jonathan Karl, who pushed back against the claims:

[Karl: “[Trump] said that Tim Walz signed a letter letting the state kidnap children to change their gender, allowing pedophiles to be exempt from crimes… this is not true, this is not remotely true.” Vance: “What President Trump said, Jon, is that Tim Walz has supported taking children from their parents if the parents don't consent to gender reassignment, that is crazy…Tim Walz gets on his high horse about ‘mind your own damn business.’ One way of minding your own damn business, Jon, is to not try to take my children away from me.” Karl: “He has not signed a law allowing the state to kidnap children to change their sexual identity.” Vance: “What I just explained to you I would describe as kidnapping.” Karl: “That’s crazy, come on.”]

The claim that HF 146, also known as the “Trans Refuge Law,” would allow the state to kidnap children stems from a deliberately misleading interpretation of the bill. Terry Schilling, president of the American Principles Project and director of millions of dollars in anti-transgender ads targeting Democrats, pointed to a section of the bill stating that the state can take jurisdiction if a child is “present in the state” and has been unable to obtain gender-affirming healthcare. Deliberate misinterpretations of this clause is the primary source of false claims about the Minnesota law.

What Vance, Schilling, and others fail to mention is that the provision in question applies to Section 518D of Minnesota law, known as the Uniform Child Custody Jurisdiction and Enforcement Act. This act, adopted by most states in the U.S., addresses disputes between divorced parents when one parent lives in or moves to a different state, or when multiple states have competing claims to jurisdiction over custody cases. The specific provision highlighted by Schilling and referred to by Trump and Vance states that the state can take “temporary emergency jurisdiction.” This does not equate to taking custody of the child; rather, it allows a judge to hear a case in a custody dispute where one parent resides in a state that criminalizes trans care and the other in a state where such care is legal. Notably, it does not even tell the judge who should be awarded custody, it merely allows a court in Minnesota to hear such a custody dispute.

[...] Most importantly, the claim that Walz supports the state “kidnapping children” from their parents to “trans” them is absolutely false. Walz signed a bill making the state a refuge for transgender people fleeing states that criminalize their care. The bill not only responds to states like Texas and Florida, which have indeed threatened to remove transgender kids from supportive parents, but also to cases where attorneys general attempted to subpoena medical records across state lines, such as when Attorney General Ken Paxton sought medical records from Seattle Children’s Hospital; a similar law protected transgender youth who received care there. Similar protections have also since been extended to abortion patients and providers, who face nearly identical issues.

Appearing on ABC’s This Week on Sunday, JD Vance (R) baselessly claimed that Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz (D) signed a bill (HF146) that allow the state to “kidnap children”. The bill in question deals with custody disputes and trans safe refuge.

Interviewer Jonathan Karl called out Vance’s bogus lie with this: “He has not signed a law allowing the state to kidnap children to change their sexual identity.”

From the 08.11.2024 edition of ABC's This Week:

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#J.D. Vance #Jonathan Karl #ABC News #ABC #This Week #Tim Walz #Transgender Safe Refuge #Transgender #Gender Affirming Healthcare #Minnesota HF146 #Terry Schilling #Donald Trump #Custody Disputes

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ereardon · 1 year

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That Summer || Part Two [Bradley Bradshaw x Reader]

A Bradley Bradshaw AU

Summary: One night during the summer you turned eighteen, you woke up to a surprise. Your father, a retired Navy Admiral, had posted bail for the son of a former colleague who was now orphaned and had gotten himself mixed up with the law. Instead of letting him get lost in the judicial system, your father signed himself up as Bradley Bradshaw’s guardian to prevent him from going to juvie. You were explicitly told to stay away from the boy in the attic room. But as the summer went on, you and Bradley struck up an unlikely friendship that turned into a forbidden relationship. Bradley tipped your world upside down, challenging everything you had once thought you knew. How could the two of you think it would end any differently than it did when your father called the cops the night he found the two of you in bed together?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, angst, dead parents, mention of a car accident, nightmares

Wordcount: 4K

Series masterlist here; Part One here; Part Three here

Bradley had three things on his person besides the clothes on his back the night he got locked up.

A photo of his parents, smiling into the camera, eyes bright behind matching pairs of aviator sunglasses, the California sun shining bright in the background.

His father’s dog tags that hung around his neck, his mother's wedding band glinting next to the dulled metal tags, ensuring he carried the two of them wherever he went.

And a second photo. Less crinkled and weathered than the one of his parents, like it hadn't been folded and opened back up as many times. If you squinted, you could make out the clear blue waves in the background.

Four adults stood in the photo, two pairs of parents. And in their arms sat two babies, only a few months apart. The babies were looking at each other. Curiosity. Intrigue. Confusion. Every emotion under the sun simultaneously conveyed in their tiny faces.

Bradley pulled the photo out of his pocket, sliding it under a pile of socks in the first dresser drawer.

Hiding it. For now.

***

You didn’t know, but Bradley watched you from the attic room. He watched the way you gracefully laid on the beach and he watched you devour book after book while lying on the hot sand until you couldn’t bear the heat in your body anymore and you’d make a run for it into the crashing ocean waves.

Bradley watched you carefully at meals. The cagey way you spoke to your mother. The way you turned to look at your father for approval before agreeing with something. The polite way you pushed food around your plate when you disliked it but didn’t want to tell the cook.

He saw everything. Even the way you looked at him with curiosity when you thought he didn’t notice.

You spent your days languishing. Bradley spent his planning his next steps.

The Admiral had given him a lifeline. But Bradley still didn’t have a fully formed plan for what was next. He had left California with only a few hundred dollars in cash, and your family’s name engraved in his mind.

“Go to the Sullivan’s,” his mother had said once. “They’ll help you.”

He hadn’t planned on getting arrested on his way to Galveston.

Nothing that Bradley had planned was coming to fruition, and what had happened since his mother died he could have never planned for.

***

“So what’s he like?”

You sighed and licked a drip of melted ice cream away from the rapidly softening side of your sugar cone. “Who, Bradley?”

“Obviously.” Ivy rolled her eyes. “The mystery boy in the attic.”

“He has a name,” you said. “And I don’t know. He’s quiet. I barely see him. I’m not supposed to.”

“So what, he just sits in the attic all day like a fucking prisoner?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I see him at breakfast and dinner and I’ve seen him in the yard a few times. It’s only been two weeks.” You failed to mention that you had gone to his room in the middle of the night when you heard his wailing from his nightmares. Ivy didn’t need to know that. She might have been your best friend since you moved to Galveston, but that felt like a secret only for Bradley to know.

“Is he hot?” Her voice dropped an octave, like your father could hear you even though the two of you were halfway across the island.

You turned to her with a shake of your head. “I don’t know? I’ve only ever seen him drowning in my dad’s old shirts.” You also failed to mention seeing Bradley shirtless during his nightmare.

“I bet he’s hot,” Ivy said, slipping her sunglasses over her eyes. “They always are.”

“Who do you mean by they?” you asked, sliding into the other side of the golf cart as she turned the ignition key.

“You know,” she whispered. “Bad boys.”

You laughed, an open mouthed cackle that had one of the neighbors, Mrs. Gleeson, shooting you a demonic glare. The two of you raised your hands in a neighborly wave and she begrudgingly followed suit, matching your fake smile.

That was something you had picked up quickly after moving. Appearances mattered. It didn’t matter if you actually cared about what someone was saying. You just had to act like it.

And it really didn’t matter if you wanted desperately to do something. If it looked wrong, you didn’t do it.

Ivy steered the golf cart toward your house. She was headed to UT in the fall and was in a similar predicament as you — her parents wanted her to experience the summer, not be bogged down by jobs or pressure. The difference was that Ivy relished in that while you bucked against it. She was fine spending her days bumming around the beach, driving in her Jeep with all the windows and top unzipped, spending thousands of dollars on a debutante dress for just one night.

You wanted more. You just didn’t know else was out there.

As the two of you bumped down the beach toward your house, you spotted a figure in the distance. You raised one hand, placing it flush against your forehead as a makeshift visor.

Ivy noticed at the same time you did and her eyes went wide, her hand that wasn’t gripping the wheel slapping your bare thigh. “You bitch!” she cried. “He’s hot as fuck, you were hiding him weren’t you?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t know.”

The two of you pulled off the beach, driving up between your parent’s house and the Ander’s next door, watching as Bradley split wood with an ax. He looked up as Ivy cut the engine on the golf cart, hopping out with a giant smile on her face. “Hi!” she practically sang. “You must be Bradley.”

He put down the ax, wiping away sweat from his brow. “Yeah.”

“I’m Ivy,” she said, tossing her arm around your neck and tugging you in close. “Y/N’s best friend.”

He hummed in acknowledgement. You watched in awe as sweat dripped down his tanned, muscular shoulders, over past his pecs, across his defined abs before disappearing into the waistband of his swim trunks.

Ivy looked between the two of you and grinned. “How much more work do you have?” she asked. “Want to go swimming with us?”

Bradley pointed to a small pile of wood near the house. “The Admiral asked me to chop this up for bonfires.”

You nodded. “Bradley is busy,” you said. “Let’s just go inside and I can show you that dress I was talking about.”

Ivy let her hand drop from your shoulders and put her hands on her waist. “No, this is much more interesting.” She shamelessly let her eyes roll over Bradley’s body. “Besides, there’s barely any wood in that pile. You’ll be done soon, right?”

“I, uh, I guess.”

“Great!” Ivy grinned. “We will grab beach towels and meet you down by the water when you’re done.”

She skipped away and you followed, grabbing her delicate wrist and hissing in her ear once Bradley was out of earshot. “What are you doing?”

“Being friendly, Y/N. Didn’t you know that was the Southern way?” she mocked.

You grimaced. “Daddy’s going to throw a fit if he sees us swimming with him.”

“Oh lighten up, Y/N,” she said, tossing open the front door and stepping inside like it was her house. “He won’t know, I promise.”

That was the thing about Ivy. She pushed you out of your comfort zone, but in the best way. She was outgoing where you were shy. She had big Texas hair and a loud laugh and a zingy humor that people latched onto immediately.

She didn’t always do what was right. But she always did what was fun.

“I’m going to regret this,” you muttered as you slipped off your denim shorts and tank top to reveal a small white bikini, grabbing a set of beach towels and following after Ivy as she made her way out onto the beach.

The two of you dropped the towels under a heavy metal water bottle so they wouldn’t fly away before making your way out to the water. It was a scorching hot day. The ocean lapped like a lukewarm bath against your legs and you felt your breath catch. But it was a welcome change from California where the water generally had been cooler, more like a shock when you stuck your head below the surface. Here, in Texas, it was warm. Like everything else, it was a little oppressive.

But you didn’t mind. Not at first.

You were hip deep when you spotted Bradley making his way down the beach toward the shore. Ivy waved enthusiastically, her pale blue bikini now wet and a darker shade of blue. The strings dug into her plush hips and you couldn’t help but admire the way she moved, graceful, while you clumsily trudged through the wet sand.

Bradley stopped at the waterline and you wondered for a moment if he knew how to swim. He looked at you, almost as if for approval. You gave him a small smile and he nodded slightly, wading into the water a few feet to your right. You pushed on further into the water until the both of you were submerged up to your chests.

“First time in the ocean here?” you asked.

Bradley nodded. “Never been to Texas before,” he replied.

“Did you swim a lot in California?”

“We used to go to Black’s Beach a lot. It’s a bit of a drive, but worth it for the waves.”

“You surf?”

Another nod. “Sometimes. I’m not great, but I try.”

This was the most Bradley had really said to you in the two weeks he had been living at the house. Nearby, Ivy watched the two of you with fascination.

You smiled, dipping your head back into the water, letting your hair get wet, and the ocean spray to hit your face. When you stood back up, Bradley was staring at you with a quiet intensity.

“Do you like it here?” you asked after a moment.

He shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“I run sometimes,” you said. “In the mornings. If you ever want to join me.”

For the first time, you saw a smile tug at the corners of Bradley’s mouth. “I’d like that.”

Just as you were opening your mouth to reply, you heard a shrill, familiar voice. “Y/N!” All three heads turned to see your mother standing on the balcony of the house. Even from a hundred feet away you swore you could see the frown on her slim face.

“Party’s over,” Ivy huffed under her breath, making her way toward shore. You sighed and followed suit, Bradley on your heels.

The three of you grabbed towels, drying off as you walked up toward the house. It looked even more daunting because you knew what you would face inside. Your mother appeared at the end of the stairs from the deck that spanned the whole back of the house as you, Ivy and Bradley approached the base of the house.

“Ivy,” she said cooly. “Your parents will want you home soon.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

“That’s my cue,” Ivy said, leaning in and giving you a hug, dropping her beach towel in your arms as she pulled away. “Love you.”

“Bye,” you whispered as she grinned, waving one hand in the air, peeling away in the white golf cart.

Your mother’s beady eyes locked on yours. “Bradley, dear,” she said, her eyes never leaving your face, “you can go inside and shower up before dinner please?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied quietly, skirting past the two of you and heading up the tall staircase.

You crossed your arms over your chest, the water droplets on your skin rapidly disappearing under the hot sun. She waited for the sound of the back door closing before opening her mouth. “What on Earth are you doing?”

You shrugged. “Going for a swim.”

“Your father and I were very clear that you were not to fraternize with the boy.”

“His name is Bradley.”

Her eyes practically popped out of her head. “Y/N, I mean it. In three months you’re leaving this house and I expect to see you leave here as a woman, not a girl.”

You sighed. “Got my period when I was eleven, mother.”

“That doesn’t make you a woman,” she said, looking you up and down. “You might look like a woman. But you are far from it, sweetheart. You think you know everything, don’t you? You think that boy in there is going to be some sort of adventure? Some new toy to play with? He’s a child, Y/N. You’re a child. We expect you to be a woman.” She paused, shaking her head. “Now go clean up for dinner. And we both know your father isn’t going to be happy when he hears about this.”

You looked at her. Your mother had been different in California. Less straight laced. She let you eat ice cream on the beach at night and she wore loose dresses that did nothing to accentuate her tiny waist and she had been different in every way a person can be different. But something changed the minute you stepped onto Texas soil. She snapped back into an older version of herself. A mold of a woman who was weighed down by countless needless rules and expectations. She clung far too tight to things that to you made little to no sense. She clung to the past so hard and you wanted to know why she was desperate to make it your future. Maybe that was a secret you wouldn’t know until you were a mother. Maybe that was something you would only understand when you held your own daughter in your arms, tiny, fragile.

Maybe then your mother would make sense. But until then, you looked at her and tried to figure out why she was the way that she was. Why she cared more about your hair being coiffed to perfection and the color of your nails and whether or not you sent out handwritten thank you cards on ivory cardstock after a birthday party than she did about your grades or your life skills.

Why did they care so much if you wanted to get to know Bradley?

Perhaps, more importantly, you wanted to know what he had done that made your parents so hesitant to let you speak to him.

***

You stood in front of the three-panel mirror and grimaced.

“Y/N,” your mother snapped. “For Heaven’s sake, smile. You look pained.”

You plastered a fake smile on your face. “Happy?”

She sighed. “Ecstatic.”

It was the fourth dress shop your mother had dragged you to in as many days.

“Well?” she asked impatiently. “What’s wrong with this one?”

You slid your fingers over the silky bodice. “I don’t know. It’s just so … big.” You fluffed out the ballgown skirt. “Feels like I’m an upside down cupcake.”

“You’ve said no to fourteen dresses.”

“I don’t care,” you said after a moment. “You pick it.”

She shook her head. “This is your debutante ball, not mine, young lady. Marisha?” She called out for the poor sales woman who had been carting around heavy dresses for the two of you for the last hour. “Bring my daughter something with a smaller skirt please.”

You went back into the dressing room and waited on Marisha. Finally, she reappeared with a slim satin dress with delicate mesh sleeves adorned with pearls. You slipped it on, drawing back the curtain and stepping up onto the podium in front of the semicircle of mirrors.

“Well?” your mother asked.

You took in the reflection staring back at you. For the first time, under the bright lights of the countless dress shops you had been to, you smiled. “This is the one.”

***

Bradley felt like he was walking on eggshells. The Admiral had sat him down that first night and laid out the ground rules.

He was under the Admiral’s guardianship for the next three months. Until his eighteenth birthday in early September. And then, he was on his own.

“I knew your father,” the Admiral said, putting his hand on Bradley’s shoulder. “We flew together for years. He was a good man.” He paused. “He raised you better than this.” And then he left Bradley alone for that first night in the tower room.

There were only three things that were clear. Bradley was on a ticking clock until he had to be out of your house.

That he had to keep his nose clean after the arrest, especially because the Admiral had vouched for him.

And finally, the most important rule of all. You were off limits. He shouldn’t talk to you, he shouldn't be your friend, he shouldn't get in your way. The Admiral didn’t explicitly say it, but the sentiment was clear enough.

You were the golden child. You were beautiful. You held all of their promise in your two hands. And he was not going to fuck that up for you.

So why did Bradley so desperately want to get to know you? Was it because he knew it was forbidden?

Or was it because he knew you would change everything for him?

***

The next time you heard the telltale groans of Bradley’s nightmares, you were prepared.

You grabbed the thermos from your desk and eased the door open gently, tiptoeing across the hallway toward the door at the base of the tower, letting yourself in, gently climbing the stairs.

On the bed, Bradley was thrashing in his sleep, quiet groans rolling out of his mouth. You stepped closer, putting the thermos down on the ground, reaching out one hand, resting it gently on his arm. “Hey, hey,” you whispered and his eyes popped open. “Shh, it’s just me. It’s Y/N.”

He sat up, breathing hard, bare chest glistening with sweat and heaving. You didn’t pull your hand away, keeping it resting on his arm, face drawn in concern.

“You’re OK,” you whispered. “You’re safe here. Whatever was going on in your dream, it’s over.”

Bradley shook his head. You bent over, reaching for the thermos, pouring a cup of ice water into the cap and holding it out.

“Here,” you said. “Drink. It’s just water.”

He took it cautiously, tipping it back into his mouth. After the first sip he gulped down the rest of the cap and you poured him a second serving. “Thank you,” he said after a moment, handing the empty cap back to you. You screwed it on and placed the metal thermos on the ground before sitting down lightly on the edge of the mattress. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

You shook your head. “I don’t mind.” It wasn’t a lie. A part of you had wanted an excuse to come up and see Bradley again under the cloak of night. It felt safer in a way. Away from prying eyes. Away from the pervasive judgment that filled not only your house but the whole island.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” he asked.

You frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Bradley thought about it for a second. He didn’t have an answer, other than people usually let him down. “I don’t know. Just don’t see what you have to gain.”

“Being nice isn’t about gaining anything,” you said. “Sometimes it’s just about being nice.” You paused. “Besides, I thought we could be friends.”

He smiled sadly. “Thought you weren’t supposed to talk to me.”

“Well, I thought we could be secret friends,” you said.

“How would that work?”

You shrugged. “I can come up here at night and we can talk.”

“That’s all you want, Y/N?” he asked quietly. “To talk?”

You felt a shiver run through your body. You were suddenly aware of how close Bradley was sitting and how bare his chest was. You swallowed harshly. “Yeah. I like to talk.”

He smirked. “I noticed.” “I kind of have to,” you said. “You’re a closed book. If I don't talk, you're never going to tell me anything.”

“I'm happy to talk.”

You tipped your head to one side. “OK, then answer my question. How’d you get those scars?”

To his surprise, you reached out, stroking one finger along the scar that ran across Bradley’s face toward his jaw. “Car accident,” he whispered.

“When?”

The scars were pink, not yet faded lighter. They were obviously older than the bruises and scratches that adorned the rest of his body, but they weren’t from a decade before as far as you could tell.

Bradley swallowed hard.

“Last year.”

“Was it scary?” you whispered.

He nodded. “Worst day of my life.”

You dropped your hand and placed it in his. The two of you looked down at your intertwined fingers. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I won’t pry anymore.” Bradley raised his eyes to yours. His were a warm brown that made you feel cozy inside. Like a cabin in the mountains at Christmas, just warmth bottled up. How had you never noticed that before? Every time Bradley looked at you it was patient. Like he would give you all the time in the world. Even if it was at his own cost.

“What do you dream about?” you asked quietly.

Bradley let his hand slide out of yours. You watched him consider your question carefully. His fingers fidgeted with the sheets on either side of his legs. “My parents,” he said.

You waited. Bradley looked lost in thought. It was odd, but he had only been at the house for three weeks and yet a part of you felt like you had known him before. There was something oddly familiar about him.

“My dad died when I was four. A jet accident.” You sucked in a breath. When your father had worked that was a fear that you grappled with daily. The fact that he might leave one day and never walk back through the front door. It pained you to know that Bradley had experienced that fear first hand. That it plagued him. That it was part of his story. “And my mother died when I was sixteen.”

He didn’t say it, but you knew. His mother had died in the car crash that gave Bradley those scars. He carried a physical reminder of her death on his person no matter what. Something he couldn’t get rid of.

Your heart ached for him.

“Bradley,” you whispered and when his eyes met yours, it went without saying. You were sorry. You wished he hadn’t gone through that. You wished you had a way to make things better for him. You were glad he told you.

“Sometimes I don’t want to wake up,” he said, “because that means waking up to a world that they’re no longer in. Even if the dream is terrible. Even if I’m back on that road in the dark, her blood on my hands, the ambulance on the way, at least she’s there. At least she’s still alive. But when I wake up? Then I’m just alone again.”

“You’re not alone,” you said softly. “You have us.”

Bradley shook his head. “Y/N. Your parents don’t like me. They don’t even want me speaking to you.” He sighed. “I’m alone.”

You watched in shock as a single tear slid from the corner of his eye down his cheek and without thinking you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in closely, one hand on the base of his neck, tugging him in tight.

For a second, Bradley almost struggled against the embrace. How long had it been since someone had held him like that? But you were warm and smelled like vanilla and he found himself sinking into the hug, winding his arms cautiously around your middle as you smoothed your fingers gently over the hair that curled up at the nape of his neck.

“I’m not going to leave you,” you whispered against the bare skin of his shoulder. Bradley closed his eyes, willing the tears to stop, letting himself get lost in the comfort of your arms.

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mariacallous · 2 months

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How concerned do you think we should be about the KOSA bill?

https://www.reuters.com/world/us/us-senate-set-vote-two-child-online-safety-bills-2024-07-25/

WASHINGTON, July 25 (Reuters) - The U.S. Senate on a broad bipartisan basis on Thursday advanced two online safety bills that would force social media companies to take responsibility for how their platforms affect children and teens, a step parents and advocates have demanded for years.

The bills cleared a critical procedural hurdle 86-1, setting the stage for a final vote next week.

"Big Tech, we no longer trust you to make decisions for us," said Democratic Senator Richard Blumenthal, one of the bills' sponsors. "Car manufacturers are required to install seatbelts and airbags. The same has to be true of social media companies."

The bills' future is unclear in the Republican-controlled House of Representatives, which has recessed until September.

The Kids Online Safety Act makes explicit a "duty of care" that social media companies have when it comes to minors using their products, focusing on design of the platforms and regulation of the companies.

It would require social media platforms to enable options for minors to protect their information and disable addictive product features by default, preventing and mitigating dangers to minors including suicide and disordered eating.

The Children and Teens' Online Privacy Protection Act would ban targeted advertising to minors and data collection without their consent, and give parents and kids the option to delete their information from social media platforms.

The bills, nicknamed KOSA and COPPA 2.0, respectively, are the first major move to ensure children's safety online since COPPA was initially passed in 1998, before the advent of smartphones.

The bills would also allow researchers greater insight into companies' algorithms and how they impact children online, said Kris Perry, executive director of Children and Screens, a research nonprofit focused on the impact of digital media on minors.

"We've been in a decade-long experiment with children's well-being and platforms, and it's overdue to make the products safer and allow us to move to a new stage of deeper understanding of children's digital lives," Perry said.

Some tech companies have publicly backed congressional efforts to protect children online, with major players including Microsoft Corp (MSFT.O), and Snap Inc (SNAP.N), expressing support.

Facebook and Instagram owner Meta Platforms (META.O), spokesperson Stephanie Otaway said that while the company supports standards for kids and teens online, federal law should instead require app stores to seek parental approval for downloads by users under age 16.

The Biden administration on Thursday backed the bills it said "would finally advance bold actions to hold Big Tech accountable," urging lawmakers to send it to Biden to sign into law "without delay."

That 86-1 vote is not guaranteed to repeat when it goes to the final vote in the Senate next week - it just means that 86 Senators agreed to let it proceed to the final vote.

Sen. Ron Wyden plans to vote "no" on the package containing the Kids Online Safety Act and the updated Children's Online Privacy Protection Act when it hits the Senate floor, his office told Axios exclusively.

Why it matters: Wyden's "no" vote is a sure-fire sign that advocates for online civil libertiesstill don't like the package of bills and will continue to oppose it.

Reality check: They might be fighting a losing battle, at least in the Senate.

Wyden is a key voice on online issues, but Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer would not be putting this package on the floor if he didn't think he had enough votes for it to pass.

In the House, Republican leaders are supportive of the legislation broadly, but obstacles remain and other outside groups are still opposed.

Schumer announced this week he'd be moving to get KOSA and COPPA 2.0 passed on the Senate floor.

Wyden had a hold on the bills, keeping them from passing via unanimous consent, but was prepared to lift it given his discussions with leadership.

While he plans to oppose the package, he got a new provision added to KOSA: specific language stating Section 230 is not pre-empted by the bill.

What they're saying: "I strongly support elements of this bill, especially Senator Markey's Children and Teens Online Privacy Protection Act, which will safeguard the personal information of young people online," Wyden plans to say on the Senate floor Thursday, per remarks shared first with Axios.

"Unfortunately, KOSA's improvements, while constructive, remain insufficient."

"I fear this bill could be used to sue services that offer privacy enhancing technologies like encryption or anonymity features that are essential to young people's ability to communicate securely and privately without being spied on by predators online."

"I also take seriously concerns voiced by the American Civil Liberties Union, Fight for the Future, and LGBTQ+ teens and advocates that a future MAGA administration could still use this bill to pressure companies to censor gay, trans and reproductive health information... For these reasons, I cannot vote for this legislation."

The main thing would be whether it passes the House, and can get through conference committee/having identical versions passed in both the House and Senate, prior to the end of the congressional term. Especially considering how much time they'll be recessing for as we get later in the year, and with the election ramping up.

Contact your Senators if you're opposed and really get people to speak up and put the pressure on them.

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newspecies · 1 year

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HI this is my thousand word ramble about Rocky and his relationship with other characters and my thoughts in general. I'm normal about Lackadaisy I promise.

Calvin

Calvin and Rocky are cousins that grew up together, with Rocky being 5 years older. The mini comics all make it seem like he spent most of his time there and later he says “it was home more than home was.” (Lackadaisy Breakdown). The cousins wrote to each other while Rocky was traveling around and Calvin kept them all inside a box instead of throwing them away. Aunt Nina tells Rocky "[Calvin]'s the only one in all o’ creation who'd follow you" (Lackadaisy Somersault) so they're clearly extremely close. Calvin lies to his mother several times to keep Rocky out of trouble, even when it's about something illegal. Despite his moral compass and the fact that he almost went into law enforcement, he's working with Lackadaisy and regularly shooting at people presumably just because Rocky wants him to (and because Ivy's there... but in the beginning it was for Rocky). They strike me as having more of a sibling relationship than a cousin one due to growing up so close.

Aunt Nina

Nina does not have a very high opinion of Rocky and she makes this very clear. She trusts him not to get Calvin into too much trouble but she doesn't let him stick around when he stops by. He’s under no illusions that he’s welcome at her house (Lackadaisy Somersault) and he tells Ivy that “[his face]’s only abided in small doses” at Nina’s house. He starts telling Ivy there was a small family tragedy and "it had an author... and with already ink-stained hands, i signed my name on it" which means that something bad happened and he either was to blame or took the blame and that is the reason he left Missouri, "so time could dull my fresh reminder face." (Lackadaisy Breakdown). My guess is that this family tragedy had something to do with his mother because his father was alive at least a little bit after he left because he was sending letters and stopped (Lackadaisy Correspondence) his mother is only mentioned once, in Lackadaisy Breakdown, described as “chasing Red Death” Red Death is not a real sickness and its instead from Edgar Allen Poe’s The Masque of the Red Death. This could mean that his mother had some sort of bloody sickness. My guess is tuberculosis. It was one of the biggest causes of death in the early 1900’s and one of its most well known symptoms is coughing up blood. Sorry this is supposed to be about Nina and I kind of went off the rails there. Anyway I don’t think Nina hates Rocky at all; she still does his laundry and lets him visit and lets him drag Calvin around. But she doesn’t trust him and makes sure he knows that.

Mitzi

Some people seem to think Rocky has a crush on Mitzi, and him threatening Wick certainly gives the impression but I heavily disagree and I think he sees her more as a mother figure. He clearly looks up to her and seeks her approval constantly; he goes out while extremely injured and hiding that injury from her (Lackadaisy Deliria) presumably because he realizes that the pig farmers' attack on Lackadaisy was his fault and he really wants to fix it. His behavior towards Wick strikes me more as a child really not wanting a step parent. As the audience, I know that Wick is basically incapable of evil (he has killed once and it was a duck and it still haunts him) and Mitzi is the one taking advantage of their relationship, but from Rocky's perspective Mitzi is just an innocent widow looking for companionship and Wick is a weird rich sleazeball. I honestly don't think Rocky is aware of Mitzi's own sleaziness, and if he is he’s ignoring it to the best of his ability. but Mitzi likes having Rocky around. Every time she's upset over something and Rocky starts joking around she immediately starts smiling more (Lackadaisy Proposition, Lackadaisy Haggersnash). She’s undeniably fond of him, despite his many shenanigans.

Mordecai

Okay this one is a little bit more out there. “But Rotten!” You may argue, “Rocky doesn’t actually know Mordecai! They only interact like once outside the mini comics!” Yes dear reader but consider this: they have so many parallels. They are opposites on the surface; Rocky is silly, Mordecai is serious. But looking closer they have a few things in common. Mainly: TRAINS!!!!!!!!! They both have recurring train motifs and it makes me insane. For Mordecai he met Atlas on a train (Lackadaisy Thaumaturgy), and for Rocky he has a drawing of one on one of the letters he sent to Calvin (Lackadaisy Correspondence) and he said his father worked on the railroad (Lackadaisy Breakdown). In relation to the trains, they both left home at a young age and wrote letters home. They also both seem to have a habit of gaining enemies; when Atlas met Mordecai he was running from people (Lackadaisy Bookkeeper) and Rocky’s… everything makes making enemies extremely easy for him. These two have PARALLELS and I need everyone to know!!!!!

Rocky

This last section is about Rocky himself! First off, to state the obvious: Rocky is extremely impulsive, he doesn’t seem to think about the consequences of his actions whatsoever and it gets him into all sorts of trouble all the time. He’s not oblivious though; in Lackadaisy Posterity he immediately jumps to the conclusion that he ruined something, he just didn’t remember it. Rocky puts on a show of being confident and sure of himself but the moment his walls are torn down in the Posterity and Breakdown pages he’s calling himself a horrible person. He is extremely aware of how other people feel about him; even though his exclamation of “they tolerate me” in Lackadaisy Palaver is framed as a joke, it feels pretty real. A lot of people don’t like Rocky and he knows this. I don’t remember where I was going with this. Just know that I’m obsessed with Rocky and I’m thinking about him always.

In conclusion

#rot.txt #lackadaisy #rocky rickaby #i probably made an extremely embarrassing spelling or grammar mistake somewhere in here. ignore it please?#im so glad im done with this i kept getting distracted and working on this instead of school work #rip my essay for ap lang you kind of suck </3 #aaaanyway. i hope this is slightly comprehensible. im normal about fictional cats i promise. come closer

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 6 months

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“Women are not without electoral or political power.”

April 3, 2024

ROBERT B. HUBBELL

APR 03, 2024

President Biden issued a statement on Tuesday condemning a ruling by the Florida Supreme Court that effectively institutes a six-week abortion ban. The state supreme court’s decision overruled a 35-year-old precedent recognizing that Florida’s constitution protected reproductive liberty. Biden’s statement said, in part,

[The decision] will likely trigger Governor DeSantis’ even more extreme law that would prevent women from accessing care before many even know they are pregnant. It is outrageous. These extreme laws take away women’s freedom to make their own health care decisions and threaten physicians with jail time simply for providing the medical care that they were trained to provide. Vice President Harris and I stand with the vast majority of Americans who support a woman’s right to choose, including in Florida, where voters will have the opportunity to make their voices heard in support of a reproductive freedom ballot initiative this November. We . . . continue to call on Congress to pass a law restoring the protections of Roe v. Wade in every state.

As President Biden noted, the six-week abortion ban is effectively on the ballot in Florida in November, when Floridians will have the opportunity to enshrine reproductive liberty in the Florida constitution. Public support for the six-week ban is in the low 20% range.

The text of the proposed constitutional amendment (called “Amendment 4”) reads as follows:

No law shall prohibit, penalize, delay, or restrict abortion before viability or when necessary to protect the patient’s health, as determined by the patient’s healthcare provider. This amendment does not change the Legislature’s constitutional authority to require notification to a parent or guardian before a minor has an abortion.

Under Florida’s law governing constitutional amendments, Amendment 4 must garner at least 60% of the vote to pass. Although that is a high bar, it is not impossible. Other initiatives have surpassed the 60% threshold (approving medical marijuana and requiring parental consent for a minor to obtain an abortion).

As explained in an article on Substack by MCIMAPS, Floridians have reason to hope that Amendment 4 will pass by the 60% threshold in November. See MCIMAPS Report, Abortion and Weed will be on the Florida Ballot in 2024 (substack.com).

Will Amendment 4's presence help President Biden and other Democrats' chances on the Florida ballot in November?

Possibly, even probably.

First, because of the 60% threshold, supporters of Amendment 4 will have every incentive to drive massive turnout.

Second, supporters of a constitutional initiative to legalize recreational use of marijuana will also drive turnout in November.

Third, as noted in an analysis by Mark Joseph Stern, the justices on the Florida Supreme Court indicated in Tuesday’s opinion that they favor the “fetal personhood” doctrine, which would outlaw abortion (and contraception) in Florida at every stage of pregnancy from the moment of conception. See Mark Joseph Stern in Slate, The threat lurking behind Florida’s November abortion vote. If Amendment 4 fails to pass, the six-week ban will likely turn into a total prohibition on abortion. When Florida voters realize the additional implications of failure to pass Amendment 4, turnout should be massive.

Finally, Senator Rick Scott is up for re-election in November. Rick Scott supports the six-week ban (“If I was still governor, I would sign the bill.”) His position on abortion is based on his belief that life begins at conception, a position that aligns with the fetal personhood movement in Florida.

There is reason to believe that Senator Rick Scott is vulnerable. See The Hill, (3/5/24), Scott narrowly leads Mucarsel-Powell in Florida Senate race: Poll. Rick Scott will be forced to run on a six-week abortion ban and the fetal personhood doctrine—positions that are highly unpopular in Florida.

The Biden administration is right to say that Florida is “winnable” for Democrats. Although the ruling by the Florida Supreme Court will impose hardship on thousands of women in the next seven months, the anti-choice extremists have overreached to the point they are prompting a national backlash.

In late-breaking news on Tuesday, it appears pro-choice activists have secured enough signatures to place a pro-choice constitutional amendment on Arizona’s ballot in November. See Arizona Likely To Join Growing Group Of States With Abortion Ballot Initiatives | Talking Points Memo. The group Arizona for Abortion Access has collected more than 506,000 signatures; only 383,923 are required to place the measure on the ballot.

Let’s make Justice Alito regret his attempt to patronize women with his snide statement in Dobbs, “Women are not without electoral or political power.” No, they are not. Nor are their partners, parents, siblings, friends, and fellow citizens. The reactionary anti-choice movement is about to find out just how much electoral power they have.

#Robert B. Hubbell #Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter #women #women's rights #human rights #corrupt SCOTUS #Opus Dei SCOTUS #election 2024

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dontmeantobepoliticalbut · 5 months

Text

The New Hampshire House passed a bill to ban child marriage in the state and raise the minimum age of marriage to 18.

The measure passed the Senate unanimously in March. On Thursday, it passed the House, 192-174. The bill now goes to Gov. Chris Sununu for signing into law.

One of those voting against was Representative Jess Edwards, whose comments sparked immediate gasps from colleagues.

“… If we continually restrict the freedom of marriage as a legitimate social option, when we do this to people who are a ripe, fertile age and may have a pregnancy and a baby involved, are we not, in fact, making abortion a much more desirable alternative, when marriage might be the right solution for some freedom-loving couples?” he said.

In a state where 18 is not old enough to drink, Edwards believes girls at 16 are old enough to get married. Edwards’ daughter, Elizabeth, served as a state representative, and Edwards said her service was the inspiration for his run for office. He is in his third term.

Child safety and gun control advocate Shannon Watts tweeted that “Child marriage is currently legal in 38 states (only Connecticut, Delaware, Massachusetts, Minnesota, New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, and Vermont have set the minimum age at 18 and eliminated all exceptions), and 20 states do not require any minimum age for marriage.”

It would be the second time the New Hampshire age of marriage has been raised in the past six years. In 2018, Sununu signed a bill to raise the minimum age of marriage to 16. For more than a hundred years, the law had allowed 13-year-old girls and 14-year-old boys to get married with parent and court approval.

On Thursday, two amendments were proposed to allow some exceptions for those under 18 to get married if they have been legally emancipated.

Rep. Cassandra Levesque, D-Barrington, was a senior at Dover High School and a Girl Scout when she pushed for the bill in 2018. Now, she is one of the seven co-sponsors of SB 359.

“For the past 10 years, I have researched child marriage,” Levesque said. “I’ve learned about the devastating effects of child marriage.”

#us politics #news #nj.com #2024 #republicans #conservatives #gop #New Hampshire #Gov. Chris Sununu #Rep. Jess Edwards #Shannon Watts #Rep. Cassandra Levesque #child marriage #minimum age of marriage #SB 359

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anxious-witch · 11 months

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Inertia 1

Summary: Newton's first law expresses the principle of inertia: the natural behavior of a body is to move in a straight line at constant speed. In the absence of outside influences, a body's motion preserves the status quo.

Jan choose a direction of his life the moment he walked out of his parents house and cut all contact with them. He didn't want anything to do with them, or God anymore. Even his soulmark he wished he could leave behind. But when Nace Jordan joins the band, with a mark matching his own, can Jan keep going the same way he did? Or will the force make him change a direction?

Pairings: Jan Peteh/Nace Jordan

Warnings: pretty heavy religious trauma, homophobia both internalized and just in general and for child abuse

Notes:

Ao3 Link

Okay so, several things. I will try my best to post every Saturday if my uni obligations allow me, and yes today is technically a Friday, but I was just too impatient.

This fic is listed as explicit on ao3 because there will likely be smut in later chapters and I'd rather be safe than sorry, but you can check more detailed tags on ao3 link if you are not sure about something or feel free to message me.

Big thank you to my friends @domo-no-domo-yes and @wordpuddle on tumblr for beta-reading and helping me edit this

Anyway, enjoy :)

"I etch my own face upon my wicked flesh. / I am my own devastating god."

- Rachel McKibbens, from "Shiv," Women of Resistance: Poems for a New Feminism

The first memories Jan had of his own mother were of her telling him stories every night. How, when God saw how many people came into being and how they went through their lives lost and afraid, He decided to bestow upon them a Gift – a sign of His love and mercy - that would guide them to a person who would be just right for them.

A soulmate.

Jan remembered how his mother’s soft hands gently stroked his dark, unruly hair – doing her best to tame it – as she spoke of how a Gift of his own would be granted to him in a few years, that there were some ways in which he could seek the blessing of guidance towards the right path - towards his soulmate.

That was the reason why they went to church regularly. To seek the guidance under His heavenly light. To earn His Gift.

It would take Jan quite a few years to realize that was the precise moment when the metaphorical noose was placed around his neck.

When he was around five, his mother observed a faint mark behind his ear as she was cutting his hair. She made a brief remark about it, but said nothing more. Afterwards, Jan found himself tracing its borders with his finger while trying to catch a glimpse of it in the bathroom mirror.

The mark took the form of a vaguely pear-shaped outline, devoid of color and detail. His hand continued to hover over it, occasionally touching it, as he left the bathroom and crouched behind a wall, eavesdropping on his parents speaking in not-so-hushed voices in the living room.

"You know very well what this means," his father whisper shouted, "she has to be quite a few years older than he is, if the mark is already appearing this early!"

"Let’s not jump to conclusions. If she’s two, three years older…it's not the end of the world. What matters is that she is from good, Christian family."

Jan quietly tiptoed towards his room; his heart as heavy as lead. As he lay on his bed, unable to find sleep, he decided to do what his mother always suggested he do whenever he was upset. He prayed. Prayed for a soulmate his parents would love, someone they would approve of. A soulmate that would be the closest thing to Heaven in their eyes.

It had not yet dawned upon him that his soulmate should be perfect for himself, first and foremost, not his parents.

By the time Jan started primary school at the age of seven, his mark shifted two more times. First, detail and color filled the vague pear-shaped outline, transforming it into a brown acoustic guitar, and then some years later, it shifted yet again, this time into a red bass guitar.

The whispered conversations between his parents became more frequent, and his father's expressions grew darker and angrier with each passing day. The only thing that seemed to soothe them was Jan accompanying them to church every Sunday. And so, Jan continued to do so.

Now, the church wasn’t all bad. In the silence of the stone structure, as the walls vibrated with the echoes of the choir’s song, Jan managed to bring himself to find peace. Not to mention, God was always good in his parents’ stories. Like a good Shepherd, he always took care of His flock who believed in him, including the lost lambs. So, Jan always closed his eyes and prayed as hard as he could.

God at least, would not forsake him.

It wasn't until Jan reached high school and cautiously asked his parents if he could learn to play the guitar, that things started to change.

Inevitably, it took quite a bit of convincing. Guitar lessons meant that Jan would have less time to dedicate towards church and schoolwork, but since Jan was always a good student who worked hard to keep his grades up, they couldn't say no.

Jan was not ready to tell them that one of the reasons why he wanted those guitar lessons was so that he could spend less time under their watchful eyes, as well as attending church services. He could already feel his father's cold rage breathing down his neck at the mere thought of mentioning it. Not to mention, he was developing a taste of his own, music-wise – something which he carefully kept under wraps, as he knew the kind of music he discovered and loved would certainly be considered ungodly.

The last two years of middle school had been rough on Jan. Matej moved out just a bit before his twenty-seventh birthday, and his sister got married and moved away ages ago. This meant that Jan lived alone with his parents, with no one to divert their attention from him, which made him long for some time to have for himself.

Being so much younger than both his siblings felt awful. It was as if he was perpetually late to everything and stumbled through things his siblings seemingly did with ease. Worse yet, ever since he started puberty, his parents began asking him about girls he liked. Jan usually brushed off their queries by stating he was more interested in math than girls.

Yet, if he had to be honest with himself, math class often bored him. He often felt as if his brain was constantly racing ahead of most of his classmates’, the problems he copied from the board completely solved long before anyone else finished. Truth be told, instead of counting how many times he mumbled “Hail Mary” for mouthing off at the teacher, his eyes strayed towards the boy sitting in the second row. He once counted seventy-eight eyelashes on the boy's upper eyelid before the teacher called his name.

His heart didn't slow until well after he left school. After that, he never looked at the boy again.

So, picking up the guitar served two purposes. For one, he might get closer to his soulmate and meet her while learning to play the guitar – he did hear of the oft-mentioned stereotype of girls liking musicians after all – and of course, he would also have a convenient excuse to skip Sunday mass on occasion.

Every time anything related to homosexuality was mentioned, Jan’s breath often hitched. He felt as if he was being watched, be it by his family or his peers, or by God’s eye. As if, if he ever so much as breathed the wrong way, or moved his hand a certain way, it would be obvious to everyone.

And Jan never, ever wanted that to happen. Not in his lifetime.

Music was, as he soon learned, similar to math in some aspects. It was all about attention to detail and carefully reading the notes. Well, it was not quite the same as math however. Math made his thoughts speed up as he focused, while he sifted through all the possible answers. With music, however, it was as if his brain and his entire being focused on a singular point – one where he could simply concentrate on the notes and the strings under his fingers alone. Everything else simply faded away when music took over his soul.

It felt like a prayer. Like for the first time in years, he witnessed what a miracle was, and found God among the strings.

But what really changed his mind took the form of a tall, lanky boy who took lessons from the same guitar teacher. Jan often saw him either walking out of the building as he came to his lessons, or waiting in the hallway for his turn, as Jan was finished for the day.

It wasn't until their music teacher call them up for the same session and introduced them to each other that Jan truly noticed him.

"Jan, this is Kris Guštin. Kris, this is Jan Peteh. I wanted to suggest-"

"Wait, Kris Guštin? As in, Gušti's kid?!" Jan might have been raised in a Christian household, but he did not live under a rock, and he already developed a taste of his own as of late.

Kris sighed and Ema pursed her lips. She didn't like being interrupted. Jan grimaced.

"Sorry."

"Yes. He’s my dad. Can we please get back on track?"

Jan took a good look at the tall boy for the first time. His hair was cut awfully short - Jan's own hair reached slightly below his ears, just enough to cover up his soulmark - and he looked like he got dressed in the first clothes they found in his size, which consisted of a mock-collegiate jumper and rather short shorts.

Kris shot him a glare and Jan realized he was staring. He quickly turned his eyes back towards Ema.

"As I was saying, both of you have been my students for quite some time. I think you both are very talented and your styles are very complementary. I suggest you two get to know each other better and perhaps consider forming a band."

Jan felt his mouth fall open as his jaw went slack, but no words came out. Him? In a band? His head spun. Yet somewhere, deep inside his chest, his heart warmed and swelled with joy. A desire he never dared to voice suddenly sang.

"With him?" Kris asked, his blue eyes widening.

Ema raised a neatly-plucked eyebrow.

"Kris. I realize Jan might not have made the best impression with his earlier interruption, but he is, along with you, one of my best students. I would not have suggested this if I wasn't certain it could work."

Kris considered him carefully, his eyes narrowing slightly at his necklace with a cross on it. Jan felt a twinge of self-consciousness, as well as a sudden urge to hide it under his shirt. Wearing it was more if a habit at this point anyway. Like a lucky amulet of some sort, protecting him from anything bad that could happen.

"How about the two of you think about it? We can have a joint session for today so you can see how you fit musically. Then, you can figure out the rest on your own."

To this, they both agreed, albeit Kris was slightly less enthusiastic, at least outwardly. Jan really wanted it to work out, but he reined his expectations. He never expected music to be more than a hobby, after all.

“How about I give you a key and then I’ll mess around a bit to find something that sounds good. You can join in if you think you have a melody that will go with mine, so we’ll see if it works. Sounds good?”

Jan nodded. Kris focused on his guitar and then slowly slide his fingers over the strings. Jan listened carefully, trying to get a feel of Kris’ guitar-playing style.

The younger boy seemed to favor clearer, more measured and consistent tones. Jan on the other hand, perhaps partly due to the kind of music he listened to, had an inclination towards more frenetic, improvisational and chaotic playing, with more distortion. Perhaps…

The next time Kris began his melody, Jan joined in. He followed it with his own, fast-paced and improvised one. Not to overpower Kris’ own playing but simply to complement it. When they reached the end, Jan and Kris exchanged a look. Kris' suspicion melted away, and he gave Jan a shy smile.

“That was…really good actually. We should do it again…this time, with a proper song.”

In that moment, something just clicked. It was as if Jan finally found the key to solving an equation he had been struggling with. And just as it was in math, once he found the solution to one equation, it was like finding a key to solve all equations similar to it.

“Deal.”

They did end up forming a band, even if Buržuazija didn't last very long – less than two years, in fact. More importantly for Jan, however, he gained a friend. Not that he was devoid of friends before Kris came into the picture, but the younger boy was different. He wasn’t handpicked by his parents and neither was he anything like Jan pictured a son of Gušti to be - although he did indeed take after his father looks-wise.

He could come across as mean at times, but as Jan soon learned, it was more the result of a combination of affectionate teasing and awkwardness, as well as a need for order.

His parents didn't approve, of course. Neither of Kris nor Jan spending even more time playing the guitar. But this time, Jan found himself no longer caring. He began sneaking out often, as well as lying regularly as well - making up extra classes and math tutoring sessions in order to spend more time with Kris and the rest of their band.

It was on one such night, during a festival they were set to perform in, that Jan met Bojan. His band Apokalipsa was to take the stage right before them.

However, it wasn't Bojan's voice that made him notice him. Rather, it was the way Kris stared in his direction. Like Kris was someone that saw colors for the first time when he looked at him, his turquoise eyes staring into warm pools of deep brown.

It was the look of someone completely smitten.

Jan gently nudged him and Kris startled, looking at him wide-eyed.

"You know him?"

"Um. Yeah, we went to primary school together. It's-he just has a really nice voice, y'know?"

Even under the flashing lights, he could see the faint blush that colored Kris' cheeks. Finding someone who looked at other boys the same way he did felt...odd. It was not how he he expected to feel. Jan knew was supposed to be happy to find someone like himself, but instead he just felt disconnected. Like he couldn't quite process it.

He turned to face the stage. Bojan did have a nice voice and despite being on the slightly shorter side, when he began to sing, that impression faded away. He was larger than life and had a certain charismatic quality that demanded all eyes to be on him. Jan could definitely understand why Kris liked him.

"Don't worry though. He is not like-my soulmate or anything. Not that I have one. Just. Y'know."

Jan snorted.

"Obviously, he isn’t your soulmate. He ain’t a girl, is he?"

Silence. Jan turned to look at Kris, who stared at him with his mouth set in a straight line. He fidgeted in a way that he only ever did when he was nervous. The lights shifted in color from blue to red, painting everything in an almost menacing manner.

"Oh. I didn't know you. Um."

Jan was confused.

"That I what?"

"That you were homophobic," Kris said, his voice barely audible.

Jan's heart stopped for a few moments. Homophobic? The lights in the venue flashed in different colors at an increased rate now. Yellow, then blue again, then red. He began shaking his head as he felt Kris’ words cut into him like a blade.

"Homophobic? No! Why would you think that? I am not homophobic, I'm-"

He stopped himself, swallowing the word before it could pass over his lips. The forbidden word. The one he would never utter with regards to himself.

Kris stared at him, but this time he looked neither fearful nor suspicious, at least. More...curious, if anything.

"But you don't think soulmates can be of the same gender?"

It was obvious, now that Kris stated it. So why did Jan feel like he was being dragged from a very dark place into the sunlight? Like he was seeing things through a completely new perspective for the first time? As if on cue, bright green lights illuminated the stage, while Jan came to a conclusion.

He felt his heart beat in his chest like a drum, as if heralding an important revelation - something life changing. Something that he couldn't go back from.

"You-that can happen?"

Thump-thump-thump. Kris' face softened.

"Of course, it can. You don't...you didn't know that?"

Jan shook his head, unable to find the right words. Kris reached out and grasped his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"Oh Jan..."

He was saved from whatever Kris was about to say, by the end of Apokalipsa's performance and the announcer calling them to take the stage. Jan stood up quickly and moved as if he was on autopilot. He could not bring himself to look at Kris.

Somewhere between setting up their instruments and the beginning their first song, rage slowly started to build up in him. His parents, the people whom he trusted all his life, lied to him. His father must have suspected for years. Did they not like Kris because they knew his parents weren't against the notion of homosexuality and same-sex soulmates? That Kris wasn't?

Fueled by rage and spite, Jan moved his fingers over the chords. Anger was all he felt, but said wrath radiated power. He played like he wanted his parents to hear him from their bedroom at home.

He wanted them to know how he felt. How he was breaking their rules, and that there was absolutely nothing they could do about it.

Ending the song felt like coming out of a daze. They were met with thunderous applause, and Jan felt overwhelmed, like every sensation hit him all at once. He only just managed to keep his chill until they got off the stage and he put his guitar down. He then broke out into a run, and took off.

Kris was calling his name, but he didn't turn around. He could not bring himself to do so.

He slowed down once he neared the school playground, gasping for breath. Then, he made his way towards the old swing set and sat on one of the swing seats. It was too small for his already tall frame, and he had to bend his knees quite a bit to be able to fit.

The cool breeze lightly caressed Jan’s face as he tried to untangle the chaos that was his thoughts and feelings. For seventeen years, he believed that a soulmate was a Gift people got, and made the best out of it. That meeting the one destined for him was akin to finding the puzzle piece that would complete him. That she would make him right again. That all of these dark feelings, all these little rebellions he engaged in would become unnecessary. Irrelevant.

Jan realized with a jolt that he did not quite believe that for a long time. Deep down, he knew a soulmate couldn't fix him, or life, or even his deteriorating relationship with his parents. It was just so difficult to bring himself look at cold, hard reality.

Lies…they were familiar, polished and smooth from many years of handling them. The truth on the other hand, was all sharp edges that made him bleed, just like the guitar’s strings did when he first began playing.

Tears slid down his cheeks, and he covered his mouth with his hand to stifle a sob, but finally, he looked directly at it. Stared at the darkness in the face and embraced it for the first time, rather than shrink back into the light.

He had to admit it to himself that his parents loved the idea of him, a lot more than they would ever love him as a person. They only loved him when he molded himself into someone they could approve of, and someone he wasn't – and probably never was. When he was obedient, didn't ask questions and behaved himself. Like a lamb who simply followed, and molded himself to fit into their idea of what a good son was.

And Jan was so tired of pretending. Of pretending he still believed in everything they said. In everything priests said. In the end, it was all about controlling him.

He reached for his crucifix necklace, firstly gently stroking his fingers over the cold metal and then grabbing it with his fist. Then he pulled. The delicate chain snapped and Jan was left with a cross and a broken necklace.

He put it in the pocket, with what little faith he had left. He then wiped his tears away and got up from the swing.

Walking back seemed to take much longer than it did running away. Or perhaps Jan's racing thoughts finally calmed now that he had accepted the truth.

Nonetheless, the festival still wasn't over by the time he got back. He found Kris easily enough - he was tall enough to be spotted at a glance - in a conversation with Bojan. Kris immediately noticed him and after what seemed to be a quick apology to Bojan, made his way over to him.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, his eyes scanning his face.

Jan gave him a weak smile.

"I will be, I think."

Kris nodded, but still looked worried. Then he bit his lip.

"Well, actually I was just talking to Bojan and um."

Jan raised an eyebrow.

"And?"

"He was really impressed with our performance and he...asked if the two of us would like to form a new band, with him and two of his friends? Since their guitarist are quitting after the summer."

Jan shrugged. There was no harm in hearing him out, was there? He didn't have to accept. And he did owe Kris some extra time with his crush after the whole ordeal.

"Sure, let's hear him out. I mean, not like we are making any life changing decision here."

He had never been more wrong.

Since then, Jan began distancing himself from his parents even more. He questioned everything they told him, and then stopped listening altogether. He no longer accompanied them to church every Sunday, and stopped caring about what they had to say about the music he listened to, or how he spent his time.

He slowly but surely grew his hair out, hiding his mark completely. He’d scrub it off his skin if he could.

After he turned eighteen and choose a university in Ljubljana, far enough that he would need to live in a campus dormitory or rent an apartment. Unsurprisingly, his parents protested.

Jan told them that he was moving out regardless of whether he was accepted or not. That he would find a job and move out if necessary.

"Why?" His mother asked, searching his face, desperately trying to find a boy she raised to obey her.

She wouldn't find him. The boy was long gone.

He reached into his pocket, where he still kept the crucifix necklace on a broken chain. He set it on the table and pulled his hand back. His heart felt like it was lodged in his throat, trying to prevent him from uttering the truth. He swallowed, then forced his words out through clenched teeth.

"I don't believe in God anymore."

There was more he wanted to say. To explain why and how. But as soon as he uttered the first sentence his father backhanded him so hard Jan felt his lip split. He tasted iron on his tongue.

His mother gasped, but did not say a word in his defense. As always. Jan felt numb as he reached for his lip and found it bleeding. His father had never hit him before this. Yelling was commonplace, sometimes grounding and things taken away, but never this.

It was the last straw. The final note at the end of the twisted hymn that spelled out his life’s path for the past eighteen years, one that was necessary to be play before it was finally over.

"How dare you speak to me like this, in my house?!"

Jan looked at his father straight in the eyes, without so much as a flinch. They shared the same eyes, and he briefly wondered how they ended up seeing the world with them so differently.

"Which is why I am leaving. But I'd believe in God before I'd ever believe either of you again. Only straight soulmates exist, huh? You are both such fucking liars."

Jan snarled those damning words with as much venom as he could muster. The second time his father swung at him; Jan caught his hand. They stared at one another for one long, tense moment. His father was pale, his eyes wide. In that moment, he looked older than his sixty years. Frailer. For the first time, he noticed fear in his eyes. His father was scared of him. Scared of not being able to control him, of what he was capable of doing next.

"This is what it’s all about, isn’t it?? You-you are going through some kind of phase and you think you are gay now? That your soulmate will be a man?!"

"No."

They didn't deserve to know and yet. Jan wanted to hurt them. Wanted to twist the dagger, plunge it deeper, and let them bleed for all the suffering and doubt they put him through. He wanted them to never recover, just like he knew he wouldn't.

"I don't care if my soulmate if a woman or a man or whatever. I don't want them. I don't want any Gifts from your fucking God, or anything from you."

His mother let out a sob. Jan let go of his father's hand and took a step back. He felt nothing and everything at the same time. It was as if he was encased in cold, cold ice. Everything that happened below the surface didn't quite reach him yet.

The child in him wanted to draw her into the hug and tell her everything will be alright, just like she did to him, so many years ago. The person he was now wanted to spit in her face and tell her she was equally complicit and made him feel just as hopeless as she felt now for years.

"Look at what you are doing to your mother. After everything we gave you-"

"I’ve already packed. I can go now."

Silence was dark and heavy. He felt his mother's stare. He did not look back. The two sides of him were still at war, and he didn’t want either one to win.

"Where will you go?" She asked through the sobs.

"To a friend. College is only few weeks away. They said I can stay until then."

His father slammed the table with his fist.

"To the Guštins?! I told you that boy was cursed! He is soulless, that's why he doesn't have a soulmate!"

Jan bristled at the slight against his best friend and stared at his father in grim silence for a few moments, before grabbing the discarded crucifix from the table and throwing it at him. It hit the older man squarely in the forehead, making a small cut that started bleeding immediately. Jan felt tears stinging his eyes and threatening to fall. Tears of rage and betrayal and grief, all at once. He held them back, before raising his chin and retorting, the final remnants of the lamb in him burning away to reveal a wolf.

"The only soulless one is you! And I never want to fucking see either of you, ever again!"

He turned on his heel and ran up the stairs to his room, quickly gathering his suitcase and bags. Everything he owned and cherished was packed away in those bags. His entire life up to that point. Well. Almost. He kept wiping his tears away, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry. All the pictures from the church and of his parents – a reminder of the lies and the suffering he was leaving behind - were neatly set on the table. He only packed the ones he had with Kris, Bojan, Martin and Matić. He also had one picture of him and his brother, hidden in a math notebook. He wasn’t sure if he would keep it just yet, but he brought it with him anyways. There was still a glimmer of hope that he might get to keep his brother after all this, if no one else.

Nobody tried to stop him as he resolutely carried all his bags down the stairs and dragged them behind him as he stepped out of the door.

"If you do this, you can't come back, Jan. You are adult. We have no legal obligation to help you anymore, or help save your soul from damnation."

Jan looked back at his father one last time. His shoulders were slumped, and he was holding a bloodstained piece of gauze to his forehead where the crucifix made its impact. Jan's own lip stung where it broke.

What relationship they had was past the point of no return, and he knew that for a while already. It was only a few minutes ago that they became aware of it.

"Goodbye, dad," he said with finality, before he slammed the door behind him.

What little faith he had stored in his pocket that fateful night stayed behind in that house. He would never again find God between the strings of his guitar, nor find comfort in His divine light. Neither did he want to, ever again. But maybe, with time, he might be able to find himself.

That was the best he could hope for.

#jance #my writing #jan peteh #nace jordan #joker out #inertia

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