#like. come on. we all know better than to do this shit its 2022.

[toytulini]

feels very strange to get podcast ads about how pride friendly orlando is rn what with the current political conditions of florida for very large swathes of the queer community

i mean i dont have any suggestions for like idk the marketing team of the orlando tourism board to do any better like i certainly wouldnt know how to advertise rn, thats a rough hand youre stuck with and i hope your shit ass transphobe fascist politicians drop dead.

just. wild to hear rn

[mostlysignssomeportents]

$100 billion later, autonomous vehicles are still a car-wreck

Autonomous vehicles were always a shell-game. The last time I wrote about them was a year ago, when Uber declared massive losses. Uber’s profitability story was always, “Sure, we’re losing money now, but once we create self-driving cars, we can fire our drivers and make a bundle.”

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/30/death-to-all-monopoly/#pogo-stick-problem

But Uber never came close to building an AV. After blowing $2.5b, the company invented a car whose mean-distance-to-fatal-crash was half a mile. Uber had to pay another company — $400 million! — to take the self-driving unit off its hands.

It’s tempting to say that Uber just deluded itself into thinking that AVs were a viable, near-term technology. But $2.5b was a bargain, because it allowed the company’s original investors (notably the Saudi royals) to offload their Uber shares on credulous suckers when the company IPOed.

Likewise Tesla, a company that has promised fully self-driving autonomous vehicles “within two years” for more than a decade. The story that Teslas will someday drive themselves is key to attracting retail investors to the company.

Tesla’s overvaluation isn’t solely a product of the cult of personality around Musk, nor is it just that its investors can’t read a balance-sheet and so miss the fact that the company is reliant upon selling the carbon-credits that allow gas-guzzling SUVs to fill America’s streets.

Key to Tesla’s claims to eventual profitability was that AVs would overcome geometry itself, and end the Red Queen’s Race whereby adding more cars to the road means you need more roads, which means everything gets farther apart, which means you need more cars — lather, rinse, repeat.

Geometry hates cars, but Elon Musk hates public transit (he says you might end up seated next to “a serial killer”). So Musk spun this story where tightly orchestrated AVs would best geometry and create big cities served speedy, individualized private vehicles. You could even make passive income from your Tesla, turning it over to drive strangers (including, presumably, serial killers?) around as a taxicab.

But Teslas are no closer to full self-driving than Ubers. In fact, no one has come close to making an AV. In a characteristically brilliant and scorching article for Bloomberg, Max Chafkin takes stock of the failed AV project:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/features/2022-10-06/even-after-100-billion-self-driving-cars-are-going-nowhere

Chafkin calculates that the global R&D budget for AVs has now exceeded $100 billion, and demonstrates that we have next to nothing to show for it, and that whatever you think you know about AV success is just spin, hype and bullshit.

Take the much-vaunted terribleness of human drivers, which the AV industry likes to tout. It’s true that the other dumdums on the road cutting you off and changing lanes without their turn-signals are pretty bad drivers, but actual, professional drivers are amazing. The average school-bus driver clocks up 500 million miles without a fatal crash (but of course, bus drivers are part of the public transit system).

Even dopes like you and me are better than you may think — while cars do kill the shit out of Americans, it’s because Americans drive so goddamned much. US traffic deaths are a mere one per 100 million miles driven, and most of those deaths are due to recklessness, not inability. Drunks, speeders, texters and sleepy drivers cause traffic fatalities — they may be skilled drivers, but they are also reckless.

But even the most reckless driver is safer than a driverless car, which “lasts a few seconds before crapping out.” The best robot drivers are Waymos, which mostly operate in the sunbelt, “because they still can’t handle weather patterns trickier than Partly Cloudy.”

Waymo claims to have driven 20m miles — that is, 4% of the distance we’d expect a human school-bus driver to go before having a fatal wreck. Tesla, meanwhile, has stopped even reporting how many miles its autopilot has mananged on public roads. The last time it disclosed, in 2019, the total was zero.

Using “deep learning” to solve the problems of self-driving cars is a dead-end. As NYU psych prof Gary Marcus told Chafkin, “deep learning is something similar to memorization…It only works if the situations are sufficiently akin.”

Which is why self-driving cars are so useless when they come up against something unexpected — human drivers weaving through traffic, cyclists, an eagle, a drone, a low-flying plane, a deer, even some pigeons on the road.

Self-driving car huxters call this “the pogo-stick problem” — as in “you never can tell when someone will try to cross the road on a pogo-stick.” They propose coming up with strict rules for humans to make life easier for robots.

https://www.theverge.com/2018/7/3/17530232/self-driving-ai-winter-full-autonomy-waymo-tesla-uber

But as stupid as this is, it’s even stupider than it appears at first blush. It’s not that AVs are confused by pogo sticks — they’re confused by shadowsand clouds and squirrels. They’re confused by left turns that are a little different than the last left turn they tried.

If you’ve been thinking that AVs were right around the corner, don’t feel too foolish. The AV companies have certainly acted like they believed their own bullshit. Chafkin reminds us of the high-stakes litigation when AV engineer Anthony Levandowski left Google for Uber and was sued for stealing trade secrets.

The result was millions in fines (Levandowski declared bankruptcy) and even a prison sentence for Levandowski (Trump pardoned him, seemingly at the behest of Peter Thiel and other Trumpist tech cronies). Why would companies go to all that trouble if they weren’t serious about their own claims?

It’s possible that they are, but that doesn’t mean we have to take those claims at face-value ourselves. Companies often get high on their own supplies. The litigation over Levandowski can be thought of as a species of criti-hype, Lee Vinsel’s extraordinarily useful term for criticism that serves to bolster the claims of its target:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/02/euthanize-rentiers/#dont-believe-the-hype

Another example of criti-hype: the claims about the risks of ubiquitous drone delivery — which, like AVs, is half-bullshit, half self-delusion:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/05/comprehensive-sex-ed/#droned

Today, Levandowski has scaled back his plans to build autonomous vehicles. Instead, he’s built autonomous dump-trucks that never leave a literal sandbox, and trundle back and forth on the same road all day, moving rocks from a pit to a crusher.

$100 billion later, that’s what the AV market has produced.

Image:

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

Gartner (modified): https://www.gartner.com/en/research/methodologies/gartner-hype-cycle

[Image ID: A chart illustrating the Gartner hype-cycle; racing down the slope from the 'peak of inflated expectations' to the 'trough of disillusionment' is the staring eye of HAL 9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey, chased by speed-lines.]

[coconutredbulllover]

Guys i dont even know what i need to be gatekeeping anymore i js scribbled out some stuff that wasnt even that deep just in case…

anyways to 🫠 anon (still high rn and im locking in to respond to u bae 🤣):

LITERALLYLGTT like you just had to be there 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

ive been loosely following paige and azzis basketball stuff since idk like 2020 and then got more into pazzi stuff during like 2022 and my old blog started in like early ish 2023 and i always felt weird speculating abt real people so i would sometimes tag my posts and sometimes not but i still had a bunch of people there talking w me like a little community and everyone knew like if you were gonna be [self admittedly creepy] (be fr now yall its creepy be self aware!) and analyze stuff they post you might as well be doing on tumblr instead of other actually popular sites and everyone knew like jokes are jokes and dont take anything serious but now its like you say one thing and a new fan could just trust it because they dont know any better but ofc you cant explain every little detail to new comers

so yeah the trajectory of tumvlr has been crazy weird for me too i also used to be a lurker before i started my old blog and it was even less than just a few months ago. js a few months afo if you scrolled thru the pazzi tag you would literallt reach the end pretty fast, easy no problem. on my old blog (rip) whenever i wouldnt use the main tags when posting things (again bc i feel uncomfortable openly weird speculating) i used to instead use like alternate tags that were related but not like the players names and then some mutuals did the same thing and we kinda created our own ‘main tags’ (by main tags i mean like yk ‘uconn wbb’ and ‘paige bueckers’ ‘azzi fudd’).

incase this response is hard to follow im kinda tryna respond to ur paragraph chunks in my own paragrpah chunks (if that makes sense ?) like ur third paragraph is beinf repsonded to in this oargraph now. yeah i honeslty thoguht it was rlly wholesome when people wiped the clip off of like everywhere it rlly was js a iykyk thing and i also started seeing people sharing it and using it in edits. like for example i wrote in one of my earlier posts abt having a tiktok where i would psot like small clips (not edits i cant edit for shit) i thoguht were cute or wtvr but then suddenly the acc blew up w new fans in like late 2023 and it was managable then comments started being upright rude or sharing the clip and i was like damn. the final pushinf point before i deleted the acc was i posted a clip and it peaked 5.5 million views like WHATATAATASA????? and i was like conflicted if i should delete the vid bc it was the same content i always posted but it was slightly out of context and ppl ran with it calling a paige a dyke among other things in the comments (plus the ‘the live’ sharers foudn that post too) AND someone dropped mine and a few others tumblrs in the comments so i js ended up deleted everything of the acc including the vid after 7 days of it being up bc tiktok didnt deserve any of it 😭 and i couldnt keep monitoring comments plus i didnt want the out of context clip spreading.

okay next pargraoh!! I KNOW ITS HELLA WEIRD… like why do u suddenly recognize the person im talking abt? i would occasionally mention it to friends or ppl i know like ‘yeah wbb is rlly poppibg off rn cailin clark paige bukers kmaila cardoso etc are really bringing good attention to the game’ so it was like a casual interest they didnt know i was like actuallt into basketball or anything like that but like it was know like “eri watches basketball and ive heard this persons name come outta her mouth before” kinda like u were saying abt your friend saying they never heard the name come out of any elses name but yours. and then it actually blew up and people were genuinely recognizing the names i was talking about like ‘oh i saw that girl you mentioned before on the news’ like whatchu mean u saw them on the news. it all happened so fast 🤣. no offense to your friends idk if theyre like this it just made me think of straight paige fans so i wanna say a little thing abt it even tho its not related to what u said abt ur friends, peoples reactions to straight fans have a weird line drawn like i think that straight fans are perfectly fine saying paige is hot. heres my explanation: i think sexuality is a spectrum you can be completely striaght and find her hot and thats literally normal like you arent attracted to women like THAT but you can appreciate someone good looking and like their energy and be straight like the kinsey or wtvr scale those typa girls are probs like a 2. i always see like the “im gonna hold your hand when i tell you this” comments and i think theyre funny but not everyone is always a straight girl who genuinely might like women, people can be striaght and find masculine traits or jsut the nergy of someone attractive! insane idea ik.

final bit of the yap sesh! no yeah i totally get u i feel like i always gotta be like ‘proving’ that i know so much and that ive been here a long time as weell but its hard while beibg forced to be a gatekeeper. i honestly have the worst memory so i have no clue if the other time you sent a similar ask couldve been me cause its not the first time ive seen asks like this but it it was we rlly did come full circle and thats be pretry cool LMFAO. lastly never appologize for yapping especially when im literallt the D1 yapper 🤣🙂‍↕️.

if yall made it here sprry for typos also i didnt reread anything i wrote so if something is so grammatically wrong it makes no sense send an ask and ill go edit it 😭

final thoguhts to 🫠 anon and a little bit to readers i hope u send more asks bc this was highkey the most entertaining one ive gotten out of all my asks, in a while, like i get them everyday but its js alot of people asking for context on stuff i post or cautious people letting me know i shoudl delte when ive accidentally shared too much that wouldnt sit well with the newbies 😭 so if u wanna have a convo w someone who knows their shit js run wild in the ask ill censor it or use the emoji i rlly miss talking to people who arent part of the new wave (no offense to yall). like on my old blog i had mutuals with same thoughts as mine and then i used to js silent lurk the other blogs accs to keep my blog a little more seperate from the main tags, but i recebtly started interacting with the people whove been the main ppl posting in the main tags on their blogs (like the person whos name i blurred in your ask who was popular and had a now removed content masterlist like i have access to more complete masterlists but yes i do know of that one it was a pretty popular one bc it was easily accessible and they were postinf lives on yt for people sadly now gone into full cordial mode, their rants were pretty entertaining 😭) and some others who are still tryna keep their blogs going (staying more cordial and stuff js like me) but its like a little weird interacting w them even tho we all pre blowup fans bc theyre like a literal established family (LMFAO. please if yall knwo what im talkign abt LMFAOO) so yeah im like a floater blog rn can yall start sending me normal asks so we can try to be a community like old times 🩵 (pls)

okay time to go smoke some more any smokers out there send me asks 😝

[frostyreturns]

It's so sad that feminists have made life so much harder for sexual assault victims. In a world where sexual assault means sexual assault it's so much easier to give victims the benefit of the doubt. But in a world where sexual assault means "Both people consented but both were drunk" or "Everyone consented but she regretted it in the morning" or "Everyone consented but there was a perceived power imbalance" These are all things feminists claim is rape and have been teaching young women counts as rape...so knowing this when a woman comes forward and says I was assaulted...it carries the implicit...ok but what do you mean by assaulted.

I'm saying this because it looks like about 5 members of the 2018 Canadian World Junior hockey team are about to be arrested for sexual assault. Now could they all be guilty of assault absolutely and in that case I hope they all face the severest consequences...but already there are details that have me wondering.

case was closed shortly after investigation in 2019 and was reopened in 2022. Was it closed because they determined nothing illegal happened and reopened because someone with a different ideological bent got wind of the case?

Case centers around not just a criminal investigation but a lawsuit of hockey Canada who already paid out a settlement but a lawsuit is seeking millions alleging that the organization needs to pay financially for cultivating a culture where assault is ok. Anytime someone goes after a big organization seeking money for something they have to make up a bunch of bullshit to connect to an incident tells me someone is just after money. Were they assaulted...maybe but if they were it has nothing to do with the organization they played hockey for.

Victim claims they met the players at a bar/club and went back with the players to their hotel and initially engaged in consensual sex. Now is it possible for a woman to consent to one thing and then a bunch of things they say no to happen...and its still assault...absolutely. However the fact that they chose to go with the players and decided to have sex...means we now have to get into murky territory where lots of people have different and often very wrong ideas of what consent is.

The complaint filed makes specific mention that she was intoxicated the wording makes it sound like the players were not drinking but were getting this woman drunk to take advantage of her...when what more likely happened is they were all partying and drinking together. The fact that her being drunk is so important to the case again makes me wonder...are they operating under a definition of sexual assault where consensual sex is rape because she was drunk and couldn't consent...but the drunk males she had sex with were capable of consent and therefore guilty of sex crimes.

Do we know what happened no, it's totally possible that a bunch of drunk entitled hockey players took advantage of someone and did some shit without thinking and should face the consequences...but it's also possible a young woman who gets drunk and decides to fuck a hockey team regrets it the morning and decides to spin it to her friends/family/herself as an assault to feel better about her decisions. Both happen all the time. But these are things we have to keep in mind when people are accused of rape. And the doubt placed on people who come forward should lay solely at the feet of feminists who work so hard to redefine words and make the world rapier than it is because it suits their victimhood agenda.

It's also a reminder for everyone that casual hookups are a terrible idea.

[pebblysand]

Is My Heart Still In It? (and further reflections ahead of the Page Pals Project)

Hey everyone, I hope that you're doing well. I am back in Ireland now, and just wanted to come on here to remind you of the castles re-read project that will be starting tomorrow (more info here if you want to join). I am very excited about this and look forward to receiving your thoughts and to talking about each chapter as we progress!

Additionally, as a lot of you also saw last week, I received a not-very-nice anon about chapter 21. At the outset, I want to state that my intention writing this isn't to revive the issue, or to stir shit up again. Anon apologised and even if they hadn't, they're allowed to think whatever they want to think. I know a lot of you were very upset on my behalf, and a lot of you DM-ed me last week, which was very kind, but I also think that anon was very well within their rights to have disliked the chapter. Word-vomiting it to my face probably wasn't the most productive way to go about this, and that was typical URL-badman behaviour, but it is a free country.

I haven't had a chance to re-read the chapter, but I also think it's pretty clear what this person disliked about it. There is a change of tone in chapter 21, and a change of pacing, that may have felt rushed to this person, which is probably why they didn't enjoy it. Again, that's not really the question, here.

I think the part of this anon that really stuck with me was the allegation that my heart wasn't "in it" anymore. Firstly, because at a very, face-value level, it's not true. I don't want to seem like I'm being full of myself, here, but I think it is pretty much acknowledged that I am someone who has a very strong work ethic. I spend hundreds of hours on each chapter, I edit, publish, edit after I publish, answer anons, answer comments - like, if there's one thing you cannot actually fault me on, it's the amount of dedication that I have put in this project. I can accept that maybe, when it comes to chapter 21 specifically, I did a little bit less editing than I usually do, which may have caused it to be a bit clunkier, but that was mostly because I was very keen on giving you a chapter before going on holiday, not because my heart wasn't "in it". My heart is in fact so "in it" that I wrote and published 43,000 words in less than a month, so stop it.

But also, on a different level, one that this anon probably didn't even anticipate, they were right. Because, I mentioned their message to my therapist, earlier this week, and said: "Do you think they can tell?"

To be fully transparent with you all, when it comes to castles, I've definitely had many moments of fluctuating motivation in the past four years. I think that when you are writing a story this size, for that much time, it's natural that you will experience ebbs and flows. The summers, I've noticed, have always been particularly hard. The summer of 2021, when everyone was coming at me about my characterisation and, afterwards, about the contents of chapter 8, made me want to give up more times than I can count. So much so that I didn't publish anything for six months after that. I can state very clearly that my heart was very much not in it, then. The summers of 2022 and 2023, when I basically wrote myself into the ground and burnt out by August because I was sleeping four hours a night for months, trying to manage writing and work, were also awful. Those who were here last summer will remember the post I wrote about how much I'd sacrificed for castles, and how much I considered giving up. My heart also wasn't in it, then.

By contrast, now, I'm feeling a lot better about this story. Its end is in sight and I'm so very proud of what I have achieved and what I have managed to pull through. I'm also about to embark onto writing a series of chapters that have literally existed in my head for years, and which I can't wait to share with you. Whilst I am a bit nervous about how the end will be received (which, again, is normal when you have poured that much of yourself into something), I can't wait to finally show you all where I was going with this. I'm so excited for us to finally be able to discuss Everything, and for this fic to be complete. I think that paradoxically when you look at what this anon was saying, I am on "high" when it comes to castles, at the moment. I am more motivated, and my heart is more "in it" than it has been for a long time.

So, why do I say that anon was also right? Well, because I'm grieving. Because like a parent who is watching their child age and move out for college, I'm watching this story edge closer and closer to being finished with a mixture of joy and pride, and grief. I've always felt that once a chapter is published, and once a story is finished, it no longer belongs to me, it belongs to the readers. And, right now, there are only three chapters left, which are my own. Soon, this story will have grown up into its own thing and it will belong to the people who read it for as long as there is a Harry Potter fandom, for as long as the internet exists, but it will no longer be just mine. And, so, when I say "Do you think they can tell?" I mean that. Can they tell in my words on the page that I'm saying goodbye, too? That maybe I am slowly trying to distance my heart from this thing that I've built little by little, because I'm hoping that the grief will hurt just a little bit less, when the time comes?

I love this story so much. I know that it means a lot to a lot of you, and I don't mean to diminish that reader experience in any way, but it means a lot to me, too. Probably in a very different way. This story has been my refuge, my baby, my best friend, my enemy, my lifeline, for four years now. And, I love the community it has brought together, stupid anons included, so I worry. About what it'll be like not having that. About whether people will be interested in my writing in the future. About the possibility that I might never experience this level of connection again. And, so, of course, I am happy and keen, and so excited to finish and share this with you. Also, I'm not going to lie, I'm very much looking forward to getting some of my free time back (haha) for the first time in years. But, I'm also grieving. And, maybe, like this anon accidentally suggested, you might be able to tell in my words, or you might not. Either way, I'm telling you: my heart is very much in it. It's just - learning to say goodbye.

So: join me on the re-read, starting tomorrow. Join me as I say goodbye. And, I can't say I won't cry, but I hope we'll all get where we need to be in the end. ❤️

[jennyboom21]

It was small, minor even. In all of the pageantry, hoopla, stunts and shows that come with the annual Met Gala — celebrities decked in haute couture, multiple costume changes, group chats and social media timelines rushing to outdo one another for jokes. But in the middle of all that, Queen Latifah walked the 2024 Met Gala Carpet with her longtime partner Eboni Nichols.

When I first saw it, well, I screamed a little. Ok, maybe I screamed more than a little. But you have to understand, it’s not that we haven’t seen Queen and Eboni walk a red carpet together before, they walked the Oscars carpet together in 2022 and more recently they walked a different red carpet together for an AmFAR benefit in 2023. She first publicly acknowledged Eboni, and their son Rebel, from a BET Awards stage by thanking them both as her “love” while accepting her Lifetime Achievement. But if you’re a queer person and especially a Black queer person, who has been a part of this community at any point in the last 30 years, I also know that you get it. This is the queen. After rooting for her journey for so long, after she was a queer awakening for so many of us across so many years, every forward step still feels lucky somehow for us to witness. Each one feels like a breath of fresh air.

I posted my all caps emotions to Twitter because for better or for worse, I am chronically online. I thought it would do maybe a few hundred likes. Some love from a few other fans. Again on some level I intellectually know… we have been here before. But somehow still, the Met felt different. Walking the world’s most famous carpet, with every camera trained on you and your partner in your matching black & white gowns felt different. Anyway, it ended up with over 45 thousand likes in a day. And that’s when I knew — I wasn’t alone.

To be very clear here, I do not believe that Queen Latifah owes us Dana Owens. In 2008, after being arguably the most famous woman rapper for nearly two decades and an Oscar-nominated actress, she told The New York Times that when it came to her romantic life, “You don’t get that part of me. Sorry. We’re not discussing it… Nobody gets that. I don’t feel like I need to share my personal life.” And she’s absolutely correct. We are not owed hers (or anyone’s) coming out. We are not owed beyond what she has left for us on stage and screen.

But it’s also hard not to feel this as a homecoming, deep in your bones. And I hope that if Queen sees this joy spreading across the internet as pictures of her and Eboni go viral, that she knows its meant with pride in her and gratitude for all that she already gave us. Everything else is a bonus.

I have loved Queen Latifah since I was eight years old. I loved her longer than I’ve known I was gay. In so many ways, she taught me a lot about strength, and independence, and loving other Black women and not taking any shit and womanhood. So it’s impossible, now, not to gush when Emma Chamberlin interviewed Queen and Eboni together on the carpet and asked, “Is this a date night?”

Queen takes a deep breath and smiles before teasingly calling Eboni “Eb.” Eboni fills in their banter and says that she playfully threatened Queen that this was the year they were doing the Met, and she better make it happen. Like an old married couple who’s been here a thousand times before, Queen Latifah picks up the story there, saying that she wanted to be “the hero of my household.” And so now, here they are.

I’m saying… this is Queen Latifah… being flirtatious and chivalrous to her partner, live and in front of cameras? I am on my knees. We used to dream for days like this!!

(No, literally. Do you know many times I have wished I could be silly and thirsty and overdramatic on the internet for their love story??? To even be able make a joke like “I’m on my knees” in same that’s usually reserved for an umpteenth number of white skinny lesbians in their 20s and 30s. To borrow even more internet speak: I cry 😭)

I think a lot about what it means to be Black and a lesbian or bisexual or queer and a woman over a certain age. In part, I think about it because of this job (writing about gay people on the internet), but also it’s because of this job that I know so many of the queer icons I grew up loving — for whatever reason, they’ve never felt like they could come out. Not fully. Not in such a way that we can openly write about them.

And there are a lot of days where, to be honest, that doesn’t matter. Everyone, even celebrities, is entitled to their own life story. It’s truly probably none of our business. But Queen Latifah did an interview with her longtime partner and after loving her for what feels like my entire life now I get to all caps yell SHUT UP YALL, THEY ARE SO CUTE and they are and it’s perfect. Sometimes, that matters too.

[bluewinnerangel]

Harry's band still has 'Chicago' on their overalls. Harry set up a phone box so people could call him from Chicago 👀

Okay anon I had to come across some twitter threads to see what you were getting at and let's sum it up yeah, a list of coincidences, things to do with larry and Chicago. I'm probably gonna miss a bunch (and prob not gonna list a bunch of others- i barely see the logic in these being intentional already), soo its a bunch of things that are in the realm of chicago + bears + phones/calling + home coinciding? I guess? Anyway:

Obviously the main point that's making us talk about this is Louis releases the song Chicago. With lines like "if you're lonely in Chicago you can call me (baby)" (that's not whole the takeaway of the song but I'm bringing in TSBL in a later point so we're highlighting her)

Adding here he said its half based on real events half theoretical, and he does have an affiliation to Chicago:

To start off with your points, during Harry's Chicago residency in October 2022, there was a phone booth at the venue and llama Doris posted about it (they havent much since :( ), with a description about calling Home.

Harry's band wears overalls with names of cities they've performed at, since Chicago some have showed up on stage with the name on it, for instance Mitch yesterday (that is nov 25th 2022.). I don't know how often they wear what. The band was also wearing Chicago overalls (Sorry for shit pic) on Nov 9th 2022, but like again I have no clue what they wear every other night.

On that note, nov 9th 2022 was also when the Silver Tongues mv released, and the shirt Louis wore in it, the Englandy Homey one, he was last seen weaing innnnnn padapadapada Chicago! (Feb 2022) (He wore it on stage before in Indianapolis)

Sidetrack on recent music videos, somehow the Sushi mv features a dude wearing a shirt that says "LT HS SENIORS", from a high school in Chicago. Although I think the highlight here is LTHS idk how many LT highschools are there to pick from if we're going for intent here.

More sidetrack on the Silver Tongues note: first teased couple days before it via photoshopped phone (or was it even, unclear, maybe a ref to all the calling lyrics in FITF incl. Chicago, is the phone in the mv?, he just said have a phone via youtube xoxo):

During Harry's 2022 Chicago shows he did some ring related stuff ( pointing a sign out in the crowd) and posted that pic of him with a ring backstage that looks like he was making fun of all the peace ring talk lol

During Harry's 2021 Chicago show(s sept 24 and 25), this was I believe the only time (or one of the rare occasions) there were mentions of Home playing before the show - artists pick

In 2021 he also first played To Be So Lonely ("don't call me baby again - it's hard for me to go home - to be so lonely") at Chicago night 2, mind this is the 12th show of the tour and only then added it, and it was and continued to be bathed in bluegreen lights (but then he got bullied into playing it thr previous shows and especially chicago night 1 so that's most likely the reason eh... and also i hope the fans never do that again.)

During one of the 2021 shows he also found 2 people in the crowd in Chicago where he went off (paraphrasing, check link) YOU LOVE EACH OTHER? [out of the fking blue:] YOURE BEST FRIENDS?? GET MARRIED. Mind you this was a few days before a 4 day break including September 28 so I can think of better reasons than the place he was at if we wanna read into that fhfhdhd. This was also when we got those Louis spotted in uh relative close proximity receipts.

For Louis' 2022 tour the only exit song among the massive list of curated post show songs that still stands out to me (although yes I can place it in the list of songs-we-fucked-around-with-on-stage-during-1d like I can make it make sense still thematically it's a detour from the rest imo) is Ceelo Green's Fuck You, yepyep played in Chicago

Were going back in time now: Louis got his 28 tattoo in Chicago in 2015 (together with the buttpenguin which keeps being brought up in current interviews)

In 2015, 1Ds Chicago show featured these bears:

Like there's so much shit going on here there's a masterpost.

Basically the worst in terms of things to read into. Go read that post.

Again 2015 when the rainbow bears came up with this sign, borrowed from the Chicago Bears. (See the logo bottom right). Now that is the first sign you find on the Google when you try to find a sign about bears coming out so again seems coincidental, but still.

(Also green bay packers <> chicago bears? Eh? Eh.)

There was an attempt to get them points together tumblr. They're gathered from all over the place but instigated by anon as well as this thread woop credit.

Honestly I think we just notice more Chicagos now? They're just being their regular home calling rbbsbbs and also do that in chicago and thats it lol. On the other I do like to entertain the thought they for whatever reason have this connection with Chicago (also yes im very much aware of stunt related connections) and its showing in the quirky stuff they do beyond the obvious (being writing a song called Chicago huh).

Out of all this the one thing that does make me go OKAY THEN is Harry first playing TSBL in Chicago, 12 shows in, bluegreening, the idea Ls around at the time, and then a year later blep parallels Louis' Chicago.

Oh also I think getting the 28 tat in Chicago could be significant. He sure still knows that number dhdhdhss

[skrrtscree]

Viva Las Vengeance is out so I decided to waste 43 minutes of my life and here's my thoughts.

Note: any song after Local God is my first time listening to it, so all these reactions were written as the song was playing.

Also I'm using the tumblr app so idk how to cut text sorry.

Viva Las Vengeance:

This song has already been shat on to death for good reason

The verse and the chorus don't fit at all with each other

And the slow part near the end is not it😬

Middle of A Breakup:

Just saying this now the lyrics on these songs are VERY on the nose AND unoriginal

'Keep your disco, give me T-Rex' tf is that suppose to mean???

It's meh. Not as painful as the first one for sure.

Don't Let the Light Go Out:

Said it before and I'll say it again: Ed Sheeran knock-off.

Shows that Brendon doesn't need uplifting beats and screehing to make a good song

Well 'good' is subjective but this is one fo the better ones.

Local God:

This song should be in JAIL.

I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT IHATE IT-

Doesn't flow together AT ALL

It's 2022 Brendon why did you make an ENTIRE 3 MINUTE SONG about a guy you haven't talked to in YEARS???

Star Spangled Banger:

the title is a obvious lie, this shit ain't banging at ALL

Why is brendon sing-talking some parts in the verse?? Could he not fit all the lyrics in??

Good to know that the verse and the chorus not fitting together is gonna be a running theme throughout this album

God Killed Rock and Roll:

I swear the beginning of with the piano this sounds like a cheap knockoff of bohemian rhapsody

The musical flow of this song SUCKS so much its kinda funny. It starts with piano with an accompany of a chorus which is the only decent part of the entire song, then the pre-chorus has a quicker beat and the switch feels so abrupt.

I don't like that it sounds like brendon is trying to chase the lyrics in the chorus

Say it Louder:

Ngl the beat actually sounds good???

'For the people in the back(back,back,back) bros trying to create his own echo💀

None of it sounds out of place so far.. his voice does kind of sound a bit werid though its kind of expected of him at this point

OK nvm, it got slow again around the middle

Sugar Soaker:

The come on come ons do not fit the beat of the chorus. They fit the verses just fine though.

He's definitely making the choruses sound 'fulfilling' when it's just the verse but upped an octave. It just comes off as lifeless..

Wtf were those come ons at the end, its like hes creating dramatic tension through audio

Something About Maggie:

HELP NOT THAT HIGH NOTE FOLLOWED BY ALL THE LOW ONES, yeah that made me actually laugh

'Let him GOOO🤩' 'people say people say run away run away😈'

Sorry but the only ones who wrote a good line about slitting wrists were MCR and that was in 2004 🙄

Also Panic hasn't really been 'emo' since Fever (maybe Vices but that's pushing it) so not only is this line just yeesh it doesnt fit at all.😬

So glad Brendon decided to embrace his snake persona with how he's saying his s' at the end of sentences

'oh yeah'😚

Brendon PLEASE stop messing up the track by switching beats halfway through it

a a a a a a a a

Friendship ended with Sarah, now Maggie is my bestie

Sad Clown:

Title is kinda self-aware, ain't it?

Alright Brendon we know you were on Broadway but that doesn't mean you have to force yourself to sing like that on your songs

Only dogs can hear it I stg

Great he got slow AGAIN out of no where, cause that went so well the last time he did it (viva las vengeance)

All By Yourself:

Another self-aware title damn, he's on a kick with these.

He likes mentioning those posters on my wall. Ironically I have two IDKHOW and FØB posters and none of him lol.

Even with a slow song like this, it still feels like he's forcing himself to sing higher than he has to.

He was right about changing everything all by himself though.

This actually sounds pretty nice, I will admit.

Do it To Death:

What else is there left to say? It sounds the exact same as the other songs..

It keeps teasing me thinking he's gonna say something else-OH SCREW OFF NOW THIS 'shut up and go to bed' SHIT AGAIN

I sat through 40 minutes of your mediocre music just to get jumpscared with a viva las vengeance callback END ME

In short: im disappointed but not surprised. This doesn't even feel like Panic anymore. The lyrics are bland and repetitive, Brendons vocals are truely fighting on their last legs and the songs can't commit to a single beat. It's like he had too many ideas and thought he could execute them all but he couldn't. I can't believe this album is actually real, I refuse to listen to this ever again.

If the studio versions of these songs sound so dogshit, I canNOT wait to hear about the tour versions.

Bonus note: the song spotify decided to auto play right after finishing the album was Famous Last Words which idk whether to laugh or cry.

[copperbadge]

Hi Sam! I’m a few years younger than you, and like you (iirc) I struggled with a good deal of depression in my 20s. In the decade+ since then I’ve always just thought of my inability to do tasks and frequent lack of motivation as like a “background depression” kind of thing. I didn’t have any of the depressed feelings, but I’ve always just associated that kind of mental fatigue with being depressed.

In the past couple of years I’ve really started wondering more about adhd as I’ve seen more people talking about it and found myself identifying with a lot of it. I’ve thought about getting evaluated, but I always just keep coming back to writing it off due to my history of depression and keep thinking a doctor would probably do the same. So I was just wondering if that’s come up at all for you, either in your evaluation process or getting medicated or anything. This whole process has been really interesting and enlightening to read about, so thanks for all the partying you’ve done!

It actually did come up, because here's the thing: ADHD is apparently frequently misdiagnosed as depression. Particularly in women, who have lower ADHD diagnoses overall (for primarily sexist rather than biological reasons) but not uncommonly in men, as well.

They share a lot of traits: depression causes lethargy (lack of executive function), and you can feel numb (depression can manifest as numbness rather than sadness) because your brain is trying to shut out the constant stream of inputs you're receiving that you either can't sort or are sorting too efficiently. If you "act weird" socially because you're wired a bit different, that can lead to isolation, and if you “can't seem to get your shit together” because of your disability, that can also lead to low-self worth, and both of these things cause depression.

I think we sometimes forget that depression can exist as a result of actually being sad about something, not just as a condition on its own. You can Have Depression for no reason but you can also Have Reasons To Be Depressed.

So especially if you haven't been extensively treated for depression -- I've never been medicated for it and left therapy (voluntarily) at eighteen -- but even if you have, whoever is diagnosing you for ADHD may see your depression as evidence of ADHD. And honestly, any specialist that automatically rules out ADHD or Autism because of a diagnosis of depression is not a specialist you should be trusting. Maybe you don't have ADHD, but it shouldn't be ruled out just because you have a diagnosis of depression.

I don't know if I ever actually had the depression I was diagnosed with. Maybe I did! Maybe I do! What I know is that there came a point where I felt like I kinda had life figured out, I was looking after myself and holding down a good job and doing okay socially -- and that’s the point at which I stopped having severe depressive episodes. The episodes I did have became progressively milder. Even when I was really, really struggling in early 2022, I didn’t feel depressed. I was just not doing very well and aware that something was really wrong with me.

And that too stopped the week I started taking Adderall. 

My standard dose is 10mg per day, sometimes 20 if it's a long work day, and even on that relatively low dose my to do list is the shortest it's been in years, my home is cleaner than it’s been since I moved in, and I'm doing better at work than I have in about six months. I don’t know what the long-term effects will be, since my depressive episodes were down to maybe twice a year if that and I’ve only been on the drug for two months, but even if they do come back I’m radically more prepared for them now. 

So I’d say talk to a psychiatrist who specializes in adult ADHD and/or diagnosis of neurodiversity, and if they rule you out automatically due to depression, talk to a different psychiatrist. I’m not saying shop around until you get a diagnosis, just talk to someone who’s not willing to automatically say no. Good luck, however it turns out -- depression is a real thing too, and should have compassionate and effective treatment, so even if you don’t have ADHD it’s good to know what your options for depression are.  

[mars-and-the-theoi]

Day 8 of Deity Devotion Challenge: ⚡️Zeus⚡️

Question- What’s the most valuable lesson your deity has taught you? That it’s okay to be human. Sounds silly, I know, but hear me out. In case y’all don’t know I’m disabled and I’m also no stranger to struggling with my mental health. This makes a consist worship schedule/habit not feasible for me. And I used to beat myself up about that so much (and honestly I still do sometimes). Because I would feel so bad about my inconsistency. Like I would go months w/o doing anything religion related sometimes like I wouldn’t even do altar cleanings for a long time sometimes. And I would try for consistency, and I could keep it up for a bit, but it usually never lasted more than a month at a time.

And it all kind of came to a head last year where my guilt about it was at its worst. Early 2022 had been hellish I mean truly I became super sick, needed surgery, had to take care of a family member after they’d had surgery, had a mental breakdown and ended up hospitalized, and had covid all within the first few months of 2022. So obviously worship and all that very much fell to the side and while I felt bad about that there wasn’t much else I could do. And finally, come June I was able to finally get back into it after not doing anything since January. And I felt horrible. I remember crying as I cleaned his altar and just apologizing cause I felt like I’d neglected Him in a way and I prayed to him and gave him an offering and that was that.

Then that night I had a dream with Him and I’m not going to go into all the mushy details but He was just like ‘it’s okay. I’m not mad at you about this. Like it’s been a rough few months for you and it’s okay that you prioritized yourself and it’s okay that you were in circumstances where worship just wasn’t a priority. It’s okay. I get it. We all get it. We know things come up that make worshiping hard. We do. It’s okay’ and I just felt so much better. Because They do. They all get it.

And I share this story knowing that this is something a lot of people struggle with but rest assured that they’re much more familiar with us than we tend to give them credit for. Shit happens. Life can get chaotic. Life gets busy, stressful, tiring. We get sick. Get hurt. Have to move unexpectedly. We have exams. Work overtime. Work weird hours. Have people to take care of. So on and so forth. But these things aren’t new. These have been traits of humanity since the dawn of time. The Gods have been around for a very long time too. So they get it, they know, and they aren’t mad.

[respectthepetty]

Get To Know Your BL Mutuals

tagged by @kwonzoshi

Simple, answer the questions. @ some people. Include the tag 'g2ky BL mutuals 2022' on your post so we can find everyone's answers!

What has been the BL that took you by surprise this year?

Old Fashion Cupcake. It came out of nowhere! One random day Viki uploaded the first episode, and was like “You wanna watch an oddly named show from Japan?” and my my my (sing it like Troye Sivan) it hit every sweet spot. The scene that was done all in one sequence?! I’m still there. I’m living in that scene. I only come out because I have to pay bills. I’m going to rewatch it for the 80th time now.

What has been the BL that you felt a bit disappointed with this year?

It would have been Oh! My Sunshine Night, but it seemed to embrace its messiness (adding more episodes on the day of the finale!) in a way that I love (amnesia?! a murder plot?! a bubble bath?!!!!) so…

Between Us. It’s the same issue I had with Until We Meet Again. I don’t know how Win and Team’s plot is going to carry over for twelve episodes. We keep getting snippets of In and Korn (TW, please), and shots of Dean and Pharm, but we already know their story, so it’s like recycled plot with a new scent. It’s nice to see Dean not so robotic (“fuck off”) and Pharm not being infantilized, but on top of Alphabet Soup’s issues with Prince Charming, a drowning, Manow doing her (keep it up, we love it!), Tul and Wan’s Gameboys moment, baby Santa looking adorable as Wiew, the product placement of what is clearly NOT water, and the daddy issues (actual issues with their father and not Love in the Air daddy issues), I don’t know how this souffle is going to rise. However, it’s not even close to being finished, so I’m excited to watch how it bakes.

What has been your favorite BL this year?

Love Mechanics. I’m trash for VeeMark’s throat grabs. Trash! Vee being a topsy-turvy bisexual who couldn’t get his shit together is the bisexual representation I want. How many bisexuals do we know who have their shit together? Not a damn one. This show is basically a documentary. Then, Mark being the ultimate Sour Patch Kid who is willing to fist fight his father only made the dynamic between a gay and his huge red flag that much better.

Favorite BL couples (not just of 2022)?

MaxTul are my anything and everything. Korn and Knock. Tan and Bun. Sequels. Prequels. Unconfirmed projects – WHERE IS TRANSPLANT?! It always blows my mind that they are the same age, if not younger than another long-established pair, and came out the gate slutting up our screens. Not even making it a competition, it’s just wild to me that they did the devil’s tango day one, which we see more often now, and held a gun to each other’s head two years ago so DanYok, ToddBlack, KinnPorsche, and VegasPete could fly (I see you HIStory 3: Trapped. Taiwan, you're still my #1). They remind me of a Taiwanese couple with the domestic bliss, the high heat, and the batshit craziness, and I hope they live long and happy lives.

If you had to suggest a BL for someone what would it be?

To My Star 1 AND 2. Yeah, I wrote that. Not just To My Star, but To My Star 2 as well. The reasons speak for themselves, but just in case, never forget his lip was bleeding.

What's your non-BL favorite for this year?

Our Flag Means Death. I only support the girls, the gays, and the goths, so I was happily surprised that I was, in fact, supporting an entire ship of gays and their support goth with this show about pirates. If you think I’m crazy about colors and symbolism in BLs, imagine me watching this show when Ed started wearing color compared to his usual black and wore Stede’s RED robe after Stede gave him a RED cloth, that Ed placed in his pocket where his heart is because Stede gave him love only to throw it in the wind when…

Let me calm down. This show was glorious, and I’m delighted it got a second season. De. Light. Ed.

So who wants to go next? Tag as many or as few people as you want.

Have to tag the color and location mutuals: @gillianthecat @dribs-and-drabbles @waitmyturtles @sliceduplife @callipigio

[shreddedparchment]

Perennial Pt.21

Faith

10/06/2022

Pairing: Bucky x Florist!Reader          Word Count: 2,420

Warnings: blood, violence, angst, pining, cuteness, language

Featured Flower: None

A/N: I can’t believe I was able to get this one out tonight. It’s highly unedited. Sorry. I’m still in a lot of pain. Lots going on in my life right now but I want to focus on this chapter. If you read it, let me know what you think and if you enjoyed it! What did you like about it? Distract me, y’all. xoxo

After a few days of Bucky’s absence, you’re worried.

Finally, at the end of the week, he sends you a text.

Bucky: Miss me?

You: Duh! Where are you?

Bucky: Sorry, kid. Better to keep that under wraps until things are done.

You: Which will be when?

Bucky: I don’t know.

You: Bucky…

Bucky: I know, sugar. Trust me.

You: Why did Steve ask me for my keys?

Bucky: He and Tony are checking out the apartment to make sure it’s safe. They’re gonna install a security system. Top of the line. No one is getting anywhere near you again without me and the entire Avengers team knowing.

You: Wouldn’t it be easier to just have you with me all the time?

Bucky: I wanna come home, kid. I’m sorry I didn’t text sooner. And I probably won’t be texting with any more frequency. If anything, you might hear from me less.

You: I know. I’m sorry. I’m just stressed. You just got back and now you’re gone again.

You: Kinda feels like I saw you more before we started dating. Maybe we should break up and then I can see you more?

Bucky: …

You: A joke, you grump.

Bucky: Jokes are supposed to be funny.

You: And a new couple is supposed to be happy. I’m just trying to bring some levity to an inescapable situation, okay? You know damn well that now that I have you there’s no way I’m letting you go. Do you know how long I watched you from afar? Wishing?

There’s a pause and you think he might be done texting but then your phone dings again.

Bucky: When I get home, I’m gonna make sure you know how much I miss you.

You: Sap. You threatening to dick me down?

Bucky: Pfft, do you have to say it like that?!

You: lol How else should I say it? I want you all the time.

Bucky: Nowhere near as much as I want you.

You: Wanna bet?

Bucky: Once your place is done, you need to make sure you stay there from now on. It’ll be safer than mine.

You: Fine. But I’m taking your pillow. And some shirts.

Bucky: Take them. Whatever you need.

Bucky: Shit, I gotta go.

You: Okay. Bye.

Bucky: Love you, kid.

You: I love you. Be safe.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two Months Later

“Wow, apparently the corruption went all the way into the royal family,” Kamala exclaims in quiet awe as she watches the TV you’d installed in the corner of the coffee shop.

Normally you have it set to some relaxing music that you know your flowers enjoy just as much as your coffee patrons, but as you’re closing, you give Kamala reign over the remote.

“Is this what Bucky has been doing?” She wonders, turning to look over at you as you finish counting the money in the till.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I haven’t heard from him in three weeks. And honestly, he can’t really tell me anything about what he’s doing. Safety and all that shit.”

Kamala shuts the TV off and moves to put the remote in its spot by the register. She’s smirking, her young face full of amusement as she leans against the counter.

“You miss him lots, huh?” She guesses.

You sigh, realizing that the bitterness you’re feeling at his lack of contact is because you truly do miss him more than you ever thought you could. Even when he’d disappeared you hadn’t missed him like this.

Dating him is making things harder.

“So, I guess that means you have no idea when he’ll be home, huh?” She asks, seemingly already knowing the answer from the tone of her voice.

“Nope. Just gotta wait.” It’s the waiting that’s killing you.

Knowing he’s out there somewhere. Knowing that he’s alive and not calling. Not texting.

And he is alive because you won’t let yourself think anything else.

You can hear Kamala talking as you wrap up the profits for the day and slip it into a deposit bag. She follows you as you place it in the safe in your office and make sure it’s locked securely before shutting off the light and getting your bag.

She’s still chirping away about Steve and her trip to the tower as you’re pulling down the metal shutters of your shop. With a sigh, she takes the keys from you and bends down to lock it for you before placing the keys back in your hand.

“You didn’t hear anything I said, did you?” She asks, not really waiting for an answer because she already knows you weren’t focused.

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, remorse and worry lacing your slight bitterness from before. “I’m just…I want him home.”

Kamala nods, adjusts her bag, and then reaches out to pat your shoulder.

“I have math homework. Bye, boss.”

You watch her turn on her heel and march–well, almost skip–off into the city. “See ya.”

You stare until she’s a small figure in the distance and just as expected, just as Steve said, you see the glimmer of her power shine for a split second before it zips up into the sky above the tall buildings.

She’s still so young and yet she has that much power. Such a heavy burden for such a young girl. Worse that she doesn’t exactly see her gift like the heavy responsibility that it really is.

You can’t blame her. At her age, you’d have probably been just as excited to stretch your muscles and see what you could do had you been gifted with some type of power.

A strange yearning takes hold in your chest as you turn to head up into your building, wishing that you really had been given powers of some kind. At least then you could be with Bucky when he leaves for this long.

You’re so wrapped up in your missing Bucky that you don’t notice the looming figure resting against the wall beside the elevator doors as you exit on the top floor. Your brain, on some level, notices the shape in your periphery, but you don’t turn until the accented voice calls your name.

You freeze, keys clutched more tightly in your fist and turn to look at the familiar Sokovian.

He looks like shit. His hair is a mess sticking up in several directions and laced with grime and some type of sticky clear substance. His long fur lined coat is frayed and torn, smeared with dirt. His pants are no better. The purple mask clutched in his hand is ripped in several places so that if he were to put it one of his eyes would peek out unobstructed, cheekbone and temple too.

“Where is he?” you gasp, unable to catch your breath as your stomach drops and your chest goes cold.

Zemo swallows, pushes off of the wall and approaches you with surprising calm.

“Come,” he urges you and reaches to take hold of your forearm.

You don’t resist as he pulls you back into the elevator and ride it all the way down to the first floor. He steers you towards the back alley exit, releasing your arm when he’s sure you’ll continue to follow him.

Neither of you speak as your hands grow cold and sweaty. Your neck prickles as dread fills your belly and Zemo continues to stalk through the dark city streets.

It’s probably minutes–though it feels like hours–of walking later when Zemo finally stops in front of a rusted warehouse door, his eyes scanning the area quickly before he ducks inside and you match his urgency and shove into the darkness behind him then round him as he shuts out the dim city lights.

You can hear the dust of the abandoned space shift beneath his heavy boots as he walks around you again and when his hand closes around your forearm again you let him pull you along through the darkness.

Silhouettes of broken crates, old metal lockers, warped metal stairs, and the smell of rust surrounds you. There’s a faint dripping somewhere to your left as you pass an open doorway but inside is more darkness that you only glance at as Zemo leads the way.

The heaviness in the air fills your nostrils, the dustmotes kicked up by your feet tickle your nose and you somehow manage to resist sneezing as Zemo stops again, this time a long vertical silver line shines ahead.

He hesitates then after a moment drags you the rest of the way to the silver line which you realize is light seeping through the crack between two large wooden doors.

He knocks and a shift on the other side blocks out the shine for a second, the outline of a masked figure darkens the space before the doors are pulled open.

“What the hell are you doing?” The aggression in the masked man’s voice makes you bristle but you have no time to be offended by the curl of his lip as he watches Zemo and waits for an explanation.

You’re busy devouring the space behind him, the large expanse and the single metal gurney at the center of the empty warehouse where a dark figure lays too still.

“What I promised,” Zemo says.

You see a shine of dark metal on the gurney and your gasp catches in your throat as your eyes sting painfully. Your feet move on their own, dragging you forward into a run towards the figure but before you can even make it three steps a tight grip takes hold on your upper arm and yanks you back roughly.

“Stop,” the helmeted man growls. “What is this?”

“Let me go,” you demand, no fear in your voice. Only anger at being stopped.

“I haven’t put a bullet between your eyes out of respect for the acquaintance we share. If you do not wish to end up on a missing person’s report, I suggest you release the woman.”

Zemo’s threat is real but still the masked man doesn’t let go.

“Walker…” Zemo warns.

Another two seconds pass and you can feel John Walker’s hand slowly loosen. You pull out of his grip and race to the gurney with watering eyes.

“This is an unnecessary risk,” the U.S. Agent says.

“If that were you laying there, he would not have hesitated to bring your wife.”

John makes some type of noise in the back of his throat but doesn’t say anything again.

Bucky looks like shit too. Just like Zemo, only worse. He’s so pale, his lips almost blue in the dim light that filters in from the long line of horizontal windows along the top of the warehouse walls. As coated in dust as they are, it isn’t much.

“Oh my god, Bucky…” you sob quietly, your heart breaking at the cuts to his beautiful face. His right arm is broken and crudely slung across his chest in what looks like torn up old shirts or sheets.

As you explore his body you notice a long gash along his right thigh, a stab wound just underneath his ribs on the right, and his face is black and blue in the spots that are not pale as a ghost.

You sweep his greasy black locks out of his sweaty, dirty face and bite down hard on your lip to keep from crying out.

“What happened?” You ask the two men behind you.

“We were moments from victory,” Zemo begins. “The last of the threat was nearly contained when Barnes noticed the trap set for us. He saved us both with the last moments he had before the bomb went off.”

You sob as your hands flutter pointlessly around his handsome, grimy face.

“When the dust settled,” Walker says, sounding bored by his words as he speaks them. “He was just laying there. Didn’t move. Wouldn’t move. We were able to finish the job but Bucky didn’t and hasn’t woken up in a week. It took us forever to get him back here unconscious and under the radar.”

The way Walker talks about the ordeal of getting Bucky home it sounds as if he’s annoyed by the inconvenience. You almost reach for Bucky’s knife at his hip and throw it at him but resist the urge and instead start rifling through your purse.

“I would have taken him to your apartment,” Zemo says softly. “But we thought perhaps moving him again might do more damage. His pulse is very weak and we’re not sure why he isn’t healing. I think something is suppressing his abilities. Normally I would rejoice in the new possibility of nullifying his type of strength but despite our turbulent history, Barnes is not a bad man. I promised to make certain that you two were reunited.”

Zemo sure did keep his word. Your fingers move at lightning speed through your contacts and you press your phone to your ear as it rings frustratingly slow.

“Who are you calling?” Walker asks, sounding irritated.

“Steve,” you tell them.

“Then this is where I leave you,” Zemo says. “I have kept my word. I hope you find a way to save him. Truly.”

When you turn to thank him for at least making sure you two managed to get back together you find he’s already gone.

Strangely, Walker moves towards you and unholsters the pistol at his hip. He removes the safety and then turns it around to offer you the handle.

“You know how to use one of these, right?”

You nod.

“I can’t be here when they get here. If anyone asks…”

“I get it,” you take the gun, fingers tingling at the powerful weight.

Walker gives you a nod, gives Bucky one last glance, then turns and leaves through the same doors that Zemo had brought you in through.

The phone finally stops ringing and Steve’s sleepy voice calls your name, “What’s wrong?”

“Steve,” you sob loudly finally.

“Where are you? What’s happened?” Steve demands, already breathing hard as you’re sure he’s pulling on his clothes and heading out the door.

“Bucky…” you begin. “Help me, Steve.”

“Turn on your bracelet,” he orders. “We’re on our way.”

The line goes dead and you reach with wobbly fingers to pinch the repaired silver button on your bracelet. It warms under your touch, vibrates once very quickly, and you hope that Steve and the others are fast enough to get here before you fall apart completely.

[talictries]

my take on daniel/alpha tauri situation

I MEAN IM HAPPY BUT IM ALSO ????

ok lemme think

-if this is really what daniel wants, then I'm all for it. however, due to the concerns about his mental health/own admittance of wanting to take the year of in his original statements, it makes me a bit worried that daniel has just said yes over-eagarly. like,,, i can't imagine the heartbreak of working for something your whole life, making one poor business decision and having a shit car/team (not lando my boy could never) and feeling 'bad' at what you've spend our childhood chasing. especially after his successes at red bull and then only getting one win in 4 years compared to like 7 in 2 years. i feel like truly retiring is so hard for ANY driver, we can see many return to racing even after calling it quits (Fernando, nico hulkenberg, romain grosjean after the huge almost fatal accident where he lowkey promised his wife he's walk away is now doing feeder series). really in modern times, the only two main drivers that can come to mind and left the sport willingly without returning are rosberg and vettel, but they left because they achieved what they wanted (rosberg finally beating hamilton/ vettel 4 time WDC loved driving but decided it was time to move on to be with his family).

like,,, even in my FICTIONAL strollonso fic idea it details why he came back to racing, and a part of that was because he didn't have a wife/kids to fill his time with. it was everything he wanted his whole life and then after retirement he has... nothing. and tbh i feel it may be the same for daniel??? especially as unlike fernando in 2018, nico in 2016 and vettel 2022, daniel did not leave by his own volition.

anyway basically i'm a bit nervous he's rushing back into a seat, that is under the same management he (lowkey ruined) his career and reputation on, and in a worse car. like it's a shit car. i think it might depress him more???? and him moving back is to put pressure on checo who has been underperforming. which is smart in a sense, but ughhhh. i think daniel's looking back at redbull times with rose coloured glasses, just a little bit. however, i think he is in a better place mentally and physically compared to mclaren and as long as he performs well (so like gets points almost every race - I'm sure red bull is expecting him to be better than tsunoda who is getting approx p11) the team will be on his side.

now for the other side of this equation... nyck.

damn red bull kinda cruel. 6 months to prove himself and nope, he's fucked. in fairness he was underperforming, but lowkey its almost like in an AU timeline (LMAO) if he didn't race in 2022 and cause such high expectations for himself with points on debut, i BET he'd at least make it through the season. and what about that $20 million dollar debt or something he owes to somebody??? without red bull racing legal team he's so fucked :((( but yeah idk his 'step up' from alphatauri (ie redbull) was unlikely due to late joining age and other shit. like he's on the same amount of points as logan, no? piastri is a god, but I'm sure red bull is comparing all the rookies.

hmmm for me i'm just more sad about his future endeavours lowkey,,,, like he was champion in Formula E, but now i think everyone will look at him like the 'dude who couldn't make one season of f1' ya know???

idk, sport is cruel and business is cruel and money is on the line and helmut terrifies me, blah blah blah.

final thoughts: nyck's very bad not good horrible day, and daniel's very good, not bad, terrific day that i pray doesn't end up becoming a nightmare for himself, physically and mentally.

[lolexjpg]

dts s5 e6-8

e6: -having flashbacks of having to defend oscar to my mom for this why does the show try to lean into otmar's perspective so heavily GROSS -nah im full tinhatting i do not remember this whole bit where everyone hypes up oscar in interview before he has his lil chat with mark netflix u slimey lil bitches -oh if i was here when this news broke summer break 2022. i would've been inconsolable. i'm sure it was nuts, ballistic. maybe it was good i wasnt there. idk if i could've handled it akldkfjadslkfjasdkfj -lando saying "i already am (leading the team)" was not that rude it was just the TRUTH sorry -daniel speaking italian is so important actually -"ive been in this sport for 25 years i know what im doing" king that only makes the fumble THAT much more embarrassing COME ON -otmar talking abt how well oscar took all the shit we offered aren't we owed a contract? reminds me of timeshare schemes like actually just u paid for xyz if you dont have a contract in place he doesnt owe u anything maybe do contracts better next time :) -unfortunately zak brown is right!! its a pr disaster is the 5 million worth it!!! and they didnt even get the 5 mil!!! how do lose ur job speedrun masterclass here!! -i do wonder how much netflix inflated daniel's chances for the alpine seat, bc from what i've heard it wasnt really in the conversation. idk i wasnt there but it would make sense for netflix to lean heavily into this narrative -did not realize liam was sitting Right There when pierre was askin abt the gossip aldfjaslkfjaksjdf -the way how in season 1 its like NO DANIEL DON"T LEAVE RED BULL i feel the same way abt pierre going to alpine. like ofc it made perfect sense at the time and you cant fault him for it but like no babygirl its bouta implode PLEASE -rip all the tiktok edits that were muted in the umg purge that paired "good luck to oscar" with "if a man talks shit then i owe him nothing." thank u taylor couldn't have said it better myself -"do you regret anything that's happened?" "um. no :)" U TELL EM BABY

e7: -i'm sorry but geri seemingly getting boiling water from a tap to make tea is so fucking insane rich person cursed -was originally gonna include this funny shot of christian standing looking out a balcony like sharpay evans in high school musical in my s5 gifset but due to recent events i will not :) -i just think. that including this whole bit abt how much checo loves his family in the same episode as the monaco gp where he allegedly cheated on his wife was a CHOICE. interesting. -lewis's monaco 2022 outfit is one of his best outfits ever. its so iconic 2 me -HI ALEX -so many cinematic parallels to discuss. s1 max putting it in the wall in practice and ruining his race to prove he was faster than daniel. known parallels to brocedes ALLEGEDLY trying to sabotage eachother by crashing in that corner in monaco. hmm hmm hmm. much to think -im sorry the sainz collision is just so goofy. i remember watching the replay of this quali and being bamboozled. befuddled. deeply amused. what a stupid fucking sport -'for fucks sa-........okay this is typical monaco isnt it" MAX GETS IT -i honestly dont mind wet monaco races just bc by nature of the track its on average slower therefore less dangerous. i'll take a wet monaco over a wet spa any damn day -ferrari's double pit fuck up is PEAK embarassing ferrari strats. like to do a bad strat is one thing but to just mess up the strat ur trying to do. peak biblically cursed charles leclerc moment

e8: -god i wish i got more into yukierre. i see the appeal. unfortunately they just dont give me brain worms -many thoughts. um i think focusing on yuki's temper is just. unfair. like sure he should work on it but thats an issue with many young drivers its not a unique failure on his part -i have given thoughts on japan '22 before i'm not rly gonna rehash but i really wish the didn't gloss over it on dts. i think it was an important moment in the sport to have a big conversation abt rain safety. -oh this nyck supercut is gonna be painful knowing where it goes :/ -god remember when ppl thought nyck was gonna lead the team? leave yuki in the dust? even /i/ had him above yuki in my preseason predictions isnt that insane? -"im happy, i'll take that, that you'll miss me at least 2 or 3 minutes" god forgot the most romcom ass shit since sebchals we'll start by holding hands -nando n lance having this crazy crash and now a year later they're fucking on the reg. happy 4 them

[the-diabolist]

If ideas are still open, derek in the cellar with a drill?

Kinktober 2022, day 7 - mmm let's make Derek cry

c.w: gn reader, aphrodisiacs, restraint, light dom/sub, dom!reader, bit of brat taming, Derek is a little shit but he's so pretty when he cries 💋 1.1k because I'm a degenerate.

He'd flushed dark scarlet when you'd teasingly told him to "be a good boy," but not in anger - you can tell by the way his eyes go hazy, by the way he slackens, cowed and simmering, under the grip of your hand around his jaw.

So that's how he wants to play.

"Stop pawing at me and go sit against the headboard," You command. His expression begins to go mutinous. "If you behave, I'll give you a treat," you coax.

He grumbles but goes, too intrigued to be contrary. Meanwhile, you grab the small bottle you'd stashed for just such an occasion, as well as a glass. You fill the glass with water from the sink and pull a capsule out of the bottle before emptying its contents into the drink.

When you return to him and hold out the glass, he raises an eyebrow.

"I don't know what passes for a treat where you're from, but water ain't it," he sneers.

"Just trust me. You'll like it," you reassure him. He gives you one more suspicious glance before taking the cup.

He gives the liquid a cautious sniff before imbibing - slowly at first, but once he realizes it doesn't taste weird, he downs the rest quickly.

"So what's supposed to happen to me? And if you say 'you get hydrated,' I'm going to push you off the bed."

"We wait a little while, and then you start feeling... special," you say evasively, climbing up to straddle his lap. "We can have some fun in the meantime, though."

You lean in to kiss along his jaw, which you know he's weak for, and then trail a few down his neck. He starts breathing harder as you go (you're always amazed by how easily he gets worked up), and his fingers start to wander your form again.

He tries lifting your shirt, but you knock his hand away. It slides underneath the fabric instead, trailing over your ribs, up your chest, back down to rub your thigh, and then around to squeeze your ass.

"Hm, you're not behaving very well," you mutter, nipping at his throat. He hisses, and his hands fall to his sides.

"Who says I can't touch you? You're mine anyway," he sulks, rolling his eyes.

You pull away from him and flick his ear, hard. He yelps, and one hand flies up to cover his ear, defending himself from further aggressions.

"I do, and I think you've earned yourself the cuffs," you say sternly.

"Come on - " he starts to whine.

"Here I am trying to spoil you, and what do I get in return? Attitude and unruliness. Shame on you," you scold, moving as if to dismount his lap. "I guess I'll just go back to my book, and you can take care of your own erections -"

"Dammit - wait," he huffs. He reaches for your arm, thinks better of it in the face of your withering stare, and curls his fingers into a fist instead. You watch his jaw work, clenching and unclenching, as he considers. "Fine," he grinds out.

"Fine what? Ask for it nicely," you command, and watch his face do the submissive thing again - he's so cute when he's being put in his place.

"Cuff me, please?" he breathes out in a rush, as if the indignity will sting less if he does it quickly. You lean back toward him, hand cupping the back of his head as you kiss him deeply in reward.

"Much better," you praise, planting a kiss on his forehead for good measure.

Then you get the cuffs from the dresser drawer - wide, leather, and fur-lined, they're well-made and comfortable. He'd brought them home to use on you, but as it turned out, they look much better on him.

You secure his hands to the headboard behind his back, and right about then, you notice that the drug seems to be taking effect.

He's suddenly flushed from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck, and he squirms pitifully against his new bonds.

"Oh, shit... fuck. What did you give me?" he asks with more than a little urgency. You grin, returning to straddle him.

"Just a little aphrodisiac," you respond innocently. "Why? Are things suddenly getting a little harder for you?"

You barely lower your weight into his lap. He sucks in a sharp gasp through his teeth and bucks, bouncing you slightly. You laugh, then lean against his chest, getting back to work on his neck.

As the first messy, open-mouthed kiss meets his skin, he tilts his head to give you better access, stifling a needy sound.

"Baring your throat to me? How submissive," you tease, nipping at his jaw. He groans, low and rough.

You seal your lips over his pulse and suck - he strains against his cuffs, and then bucks again as you lick him from collarbone to earlobe, where you bite down.

"T-touch me," he pleads, but not prettily enough.

"I am touching you," you argue, sinking your teeth into his shoulder.

"Please, I'm fucking throbbing," he whimpers, doing his utmost to grind against you, but you stay mostly out of reach.

"I don't know, you were so bratty earlier..." you muse. He thrashes against his restraints, but they hold him fast. You grip his chin, tilting his face up to look at you. You notice the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

"Shit, I'm sorry, please - "

Your lips crash into his, cutting his begging short. He kisses you back passionately, but otherwise he's putty in your hands. Your tongue dominates his as you swallow all the weak little sounds that rise from his throat. By the time you pull away, he's babbling, chanting please over and over, voice just a wrecked whisper.

"You crumble so easily," you mutter, moodily. "We need to work on your self-control."

Despite your icy words, you take pity on him, freeing him from his pants and his boxers before gracing him with a quick striptease. He moans feebly once you're finally bare.

Just as his desperate tears begin to spill over, you sink down on his length. A broken sob rips free of his chest at the feeling of your tight heat enveloping him.

"I like you like this," you purr, as you begin to bounce slowly in his lap. "We should do this more often, don't you think?"

He's too far gone to answer your question, you think, but you do get a hoarse, insensible response right before he comes:

"Yes, yes, god, fuck, yes, please..."

[artificialqueens]

🏳️‍🌈 The Miracle of Living Pt.1 (Bianca Del Rio/BenDeLaCreme ig??) - Lita 

In this world we're just beginning  To understand the miracle of living

Hello everyone! Welcoe to the long-awaited prequel to the Bitney San Junipero AU that I technically started writing five years ago (???) but recently decided to try and breathe new life into and complete. In theory this can stand alone as its own story with a few vague references to Black Mirror future tech sprinkled in, but it's really just setup to the main fic that kind of got away from me. The story has gotten a complete overhaul, so if anyone from Ye Olden Days remembers it - please do stick around and read this new version, I promise it's better. 

Massive thank you to @veronicasanders for giving me the kick up the ass required to get this story back off the ground, throwing her ideas at me, and being my Google when it comes to divorce court and the American college system. Love you mom - I hope this story is everything you'd dreamed of &lt;3

Summary: Bianca is twenty-one, flunking college, and - thanks to a night of drunk bad decision-making - she's pregnant with her gay best friend's baby. 

Los Angeles, California

 January 17th, 2022

“BEN!” 

Bianca’s furious voice rings out through the small apartment. She’s sitting on the toilet with her pajama pants and underwear around her ankles, willing the second blue line to disappear. If anything, it’s getting darker. 

“Uh…yeah?” The reply comes from the other side of the bathroom door.  

“I thought you said you wore a fucking condom!”

“I did!” Ben protests. Then, meek and cautious: “...It might have split.” 

“It might have what?”

Two and a half months ago, Bianca and Ben had gone out drinking to commiserate the ends of their respective relationships - Ben had found out about his long-term boyfriend’s secret Grindr profile and dumped him, then Bianca’s longest-lasting FWB had called it quits with her less than a week later. When they got home, drunk and dumb and miserable, they’d started making out with each other on the couch - as a joke, just for something to do. And then, since they were shitfaced and apparently didn’t know any better, one ‘joke’ led to another, and they’d woken up naked in Ben’s bed. They had laughed it off the morning after, hunched at the kitchen table over alka-seltzer and black coffee - too much liquor, too many emotions. Shit happens. 

And then tonight, Bianca had mentioned offhand that she was incredibly overdue her period, and suggested going out to buy a test half as a joke. Ben had gone along with it a little too willingly, and he’d been overly-energised and super fucking weird on the walk to the drugstore. Really, Bianca should have known something was up when he detoured via the liquor store across the street, and came back with two bottles of tequila. 

“Ben, are you fucking kidding me?” Bianca says through her teeth. 

“I was gonna tell you,” Ben replies, sounding flustered. “Is the door locked? Can I come in?”

Bianca wants to say no, but it was Ben’s curiosity about her vagina that got them here in the first place, so who cares about whether or not he sees her now? She reaches over to turn the lock. Ben shuffles into the room in his leopard-print boxers and an oversized pajama shirt, and perches on the edge of the bathtub, looking at the floor. 

Part of Bianca wants to burst into tears - another part of her wants to scream until she throws up. Not now. Not fucking now - not like this. She’s twenty-one; Bianca doesn’t even know that she wants a goddamn kid at all, forget about one fathered by her gay best friend. 

“Look, I didn’t notice until after we were done. And I didn’t want to freak you out - I figured it would probably be nothing, and then there was never a good time, and then you told me you were late and I…” 

“You’re a faggot, we were hammered, we fucked because we thought it would be funny - if you knew that there was any chance whatsoever that you’d knocked me up, you should have fucking told me!” Bianca snarls through gritted teeth. 

Ben doesn’t say anything for a moment. He doesn’t really react either. He just sits there and looks at her; composed, taking it in. 

Bianca met Ben at a theater summer camp when they were sixteen. Ben had just moved from Seattle; he was about to start junior year at the private school across town. They led fundamentally different lives - Bianca had found herself seethingly jealous of him and his cakewalk of a fucking existence when she first met him, resolved that she had no other choice but to hate him on premise. But they’d been assigned as duet partners for the end-of-summer showcase and, faced with no other choice but to get along with him, she’d discovered that they were fucking made for each other. Ben didn’t mind that Bianca was kind of a bitch; he laughed at her jokes, he seemed to understand her. All three qualities she’d never experienced from other kids her age. One juvenile performance of Waltz for Eva and Che later, and she’d found an apparent friend for life. 

And then, once high school drew to a close and Bianca was confronted head-on with the unblinking abyss of her future and its hopelessness, he’d offered her an exit route. He was freaked out by the idea of sharing a dorm with a stranger, so his dad had eventually relented after months of begging to privately rent an apartment - he just needed a roommate. She’d never expected that that offer would land her here. 

“So, you’re pregnant?” He asks cautiously. 

“Yeah - no shit, Sherlock.”

“Do you think you should take another one? To make sure or whatever?” Ben asks. Bianca presses the heel of her hand to her temple, still not breaking eye contact with the pregnancy test. 

“Nope - that looks pretty positive to me,” Bianca shows it to him, wiping the mist of stress-sweat from her brow. Ben pulls a vaguely disgusted face. There’s a moment of pause - Bianca bites her lip, struggling to make sense of the messy cocktail of emotions swirling around inside her head. 

“Are you okay?” Ben tries to take Bianca’s hand. It feels weirdly violating to have someone touching her while she’s sitting on the toilet. She swats him away. 

“I think so. I need a little time to get my head around…everything.” Bianca grits her teeth. 

All the scary new problems are dawning on her all at once, like she’s being descended on by a swarm of wasps. College. How to tell her parents. Hospital bills. College again. The apartment is too small for another person. She’ll probably be a shitty mother. Ben. Ben’s pending status as an absent father. She’s never changed a diaper before. College. Fucking college.  

She’s currently scraping through year number four of her two-year community college program. Which, as it turns out, only takes two years if you aren’t working full-time to try and keep yourself fed and housed. Ben’s impending graduation from USC - full ride for a screenwriting major, family that gave a shit about him - made that feel even more grim.  

This whole convoluted, stupid journey to something better had felt both never-ending and deeply hopeless for the last thirty-six months, and now the whole endeavor is decisively fucked. Even if she does make it to that prophesied something better - enough credits to earn her a spot in the fashion merchandising major she’d been declined acceptance to straight out of high school - there’s no way she can handle real college with a fucking screaming infant permanently attached to her. She can feel the dream crumbling in her hands.  

Bianca makes a silent resolution that she’s not putting her own kid - who still feels very much like a hypothetical even though it very much isn’t - through the same shit. You’re eighteen now, you’re not our problem any more. It really didn’t help that every screaming argument with her mom in the leadup to her high school graduation had been silently spectated by her brother - in all his uneducated, unemployed, twenty-seven year old glory - from his position fossilized into the living room couch with his PlayStation controller in his hand. We’re not paying for you to stay in this house and fuck your life up - why her specifically? 

Her desire not to be their problem had trailed her from NOLA to LA with Ben, and that was its own issue. She leaves on her terms and she’s abandoning her family, even though it was their sharp insistence that she got a job or an apartment or fucking something else that didn’t involve her living at home and taking up too much space that had pushed her in that direction in the first place. What the fuck was there for her at home anyway? Community college and shitty waitressing jobs? At least she could do the same shit against a prettier backdrop on the other side of the country. 

Bianca realizes she’s staring dementedly at the test in her hand again. She sniffs, trying to blink away tears she hadn’t noticed forming.

“I really didn’t see being a single mom in my life plan,” she mutters - thinking out loud.

Except she had. In her bleaker moments - the ones in which she was seventeen and terrified of what would happen if she never got out of her hometown. She hadn’t had that nightmare since she and Ben had packed his car and left at the beginning of September four years ago. 

“Who says you have to be a single mom?” Ben tilts his head, reaching a hand out for her again. 

Bianca scoffs. 

“What? No- Ben, I really don’t want to date you - one night was bad enough.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. But like…if you’re gonna go through with this, I’m not just leaving you by yourself to do it. Both of us did something dumb, and now we’re here - so, both of us should have to parent the consequence.” 

There’s a quiet, sympathetic smile on Ben’s face. Bianca still wants to fucking kill him. She eyes him up, searching for any hints of deception or fake-niceness. Surprisingly, he passes the on-the-spot analysis. 

“You’re just saying that so I stop being mad at you.”

“No! Anyway, I can’t let you raise it by yourself - I love you, but the world really, really doesn’t need two of you.”

“Ha-ha, go suck a dick,” Bianca rolls her eyes. She can’t help but crack a smile. 

“If this is what happens when I try to go outside my comfort zone, then yeah, that’s what I’m sticking to.”  

****

2nd May, 2022

“That was less excruciating than I thought it would be,” Bianca arches her back as she perches on the edge of the bed, stretching out. Her hair is still elaborately styled; what little of her makeup had survived the day still on her face.

She’d abandoned her dress on the floor the second that they got to their hotel room. She’s basically naked, which Ben seems perplexingly unbothered by; married, heterosexual life seems to have changed him quicker than she thought it would. It’s a relief, finally being alone with him. She’d have preferred to actually be alone, but after a day of forced smiles and overwhelm, he was better than nothing. 

“Absolutely,” Ben nods, sitting down to untie his shoes. He’s still wearing his tux - his black curls are coiffed back from his face, and he’d almost pass for straight, were it not for his meticulously groomed eyebrows. “I mean, I could have done with maybe seventy percent less beer and sports talk from your dad - I was starting to think he was onto me.” 

“I thought everyone knew there’s no home runs in football - that’s not a gay thing, you’re just dumb.” 

The shotgun wedding hadn’t really been a part of the plan, but after Bianca’s mom had found out that she was pregnant, and then proceeded to call her non-stop for weeks in order to berate her for bringing shame on the family like it was the fucking 1800s, Ben had suggested it. Her mother’s bizarre and endlessly changing standards of behavior continue to baffle Bianca.  

The decision to go ahead with it seemed a bit weird, but ‘weird’ had become a default preset of Bianca’s existence since January. Ben had thrown himself into the organization with immediate, over-the-top passion - opening up Pinterest and starting on the moodboard five minutes after Bianca had agreed to it. It had kept him entertained and out of the way, which was nice - he’d already started reading parenting books, and was being a little overbearing about prenatal vitamins and whether or not Bianca had made her birth plan yet. 

Outside of picking out her dress, Bianca hadn’t really had to do or think about anything. Marrying a gay man had its perks. She’d had a brief reprieve from Ben’s preemptive helicopter parenting, which gave her more energy to focus on finding bigger apartments, since otherwise the kid would be sleeping in the closet, and trying to convince her job that no, four weeks definitely wasn’t enough maternity leave. 

The wedding day had been quietly excruciating - her family, her mom specifically, engaging in that grim unspoken facade of keeping up appearances. Pretending that everything was completely fine and normal, denying any knowledge of Bianca’s pregnancy when asked about it. It would be embarrassing if it wasn’t so fucking normal for her. The atmosphere had been thorny, and Bianca had spent most of the day choking back alcohol-free prosecco and waiting for it to be over. 

Ben’s family - who seemed confused but generally enthusiastic about the whole ordeal, probably only half-buying Ben’s assertion that he was actually bi and Bianca was definitely the one - seemed to like Bianca though, and that was refreshing. Some kind of normalcy in As Yet Unnamed Kid’s extended family was deeply necessary. They, and Ben himself, had been the only bearable part of the whole thing. Plus they’d fronted most of the expenses and organized the reception at their country club, which was a damn sight better than the social hall of the church that Bea’s family pretended to attend. 

“Anyway, I’ve got proof that we’ve fucked at least once, so I don’t think anyone was super suspicious,” Ben continues as Bianca flops back onto the plush bed, letting out a heavy sigh. “How is she doing?” 

“She’s fine - she let Mommy keep all of her food down today, so that’s something,” Bianca says. 

She’s kind of starting to show now; although just to the point where she looks spectacularly bloated, rather than recognisably pregnant. They didn’t actually know what gender she was yet - but Bea had a feeling. Maybe it was more of a hope, actually; if it was a boy, Ben got to pick the name, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about calling it Raphael. 

The kid had been a little bitch recently - whenever Bianca tried to complain about it, Ben would just laugh and remind her that she clearly took after her mom. After a lot of smugness about how she’d not had morning sickness at all, it hit her like a truck for some reason the moment she hit her second trimester. She’d spent the better part of the month before the wedding bent over a toilet bowl. Bianca is already pretty fucking sick of being pregnant, and she’s not even halfway done - she’s always tired, and her boobs hurt, and she misses comfortable sleep and coffee. She thought that nine months with no booze would be the hard part, but dragging herself through life without caffeine is proving to be the real kicker. 

“This is weird,” Bianca muses, staring up at the ceiling.  

“What’s weird?” Ben turns to look at her, eyes landing on and then immediately flashing away from her exposed tits.  

“Try and think about it for like, slightly longer than you wanna think about it. You’re my husband, and I’m pregnant with your kid,” she says plainly. “In what universe was that ever something either of us would have wanted a year ago?" 

“Okay, so maybe you’re kind of messy and annoying, and you talk with your mouth full like, all the time and it’s really gross, but I can think of worse people to spend the rest of my life with,” he shrugs. Bianca swats at him with a pillow. 

“Thanks a lot.” She aims for pissed, but a smile cracks its way through. “Anyway, it’s not the rest of our lives - play pretend for a few years, then split up and go and live our truths or whatever once she moves out, like we agreed,” Bianca says. Ben nods knowingly.  

That was another aspect of things that she was a little hesitant about. Ben had meant what he said about sticking around and raising the kid, but they’d always planned for something more like coparenting. They’d have the baby, and then grow the fuck up and get their own relationships and apartments and lives while splitting custody. 

So, the sham marriage thing had interfered with that master plan quite a fucking lot. The situation had divulged into a years-long commitment to lying to people - no dating, since what was gonna happen when the kid started talking and blabbed to whatever set of grandparents about Daddy’s boyfriend? They were gonna be stuck living together for the foreseeable. So, even more keeping up of fucking appearances, which Bianca can’t stand doing it. But the ring on her finger is a glaring, expensive sign that she’s already committed.  

They’d talked about it already; pretend to everyone, including the kid, that everything was entirely fine and normal until she was old enough to understand it, get a divorce in about eighteen years, and go their separate ways while continuing to be friends if they could still stand the sight of each other. Easy. 

“Thinking about it like that just makes it sound worse,” Ben leans back to lie next to her, loosening his tie. “It’s gonna be fine. One step at a time.”

“Sure,” Bianca replies, distant. 

“I mean,” Ben rolls over onto his side, lowering his eyelids into an expression that Bianca imagines is supposed to be seductive. “It is our wedding night - how about round two?”

“Ew - no, never.” Bianca cracks a smile, pushing him away. Ben laughs. 

“Thank god, I barely got through saying that without puking.” He starts unbuttoning his shirt and glancing around the expansive bridal suite - still a mess from Bea getting ready that morning. “Do you want me to take the couch?”  

Bianca thinks for a second.

“Nah - that doesn't feel fair. I’ve been averaging getting up to pee about ten times a night though, so you can look forward to that.” She looks down at her belly, putting both hands around her barely-noticeable bump. “I hope you know you’re already a gigantic pain in my ass, baby.”  

****

September 29th, 2022  

Ben had left to go and get coffee - which is probably a good thing, since Bianca was getting tired of looking at him. He’d been…way too intensely supportive, to an extent that she’d found a little smothering. But at least he’d been there. Throughout the last nine months, Bianca had been worried that he was eventually going to get sick of her shit and leave her to deal with it by herself. She’d given him no shortage of shit to get sick of. 

The epidural hasn’t quite worn off yet; Bianca has no idea what sort of state her pussy is in, and she’s not sure she wants to know. She’s sweaty and exhausted, but she feels…good. For some reason. 

Her water had broken that morning. Ben had been at work - fatherhood looming over him and in desperate need of something more secure than his old three shifts a week at TGI Fridays, he’d picked up a job doing data entry or some other boring crap in an office full of middle-aged straight women about two months ago. Apparently it had been hilarious to watch his reputation as the super fun token gay guy shatter in real time when he’d announced to his boss in front of most of his coworkers that he had to leave because his wife had just gone into labor. 

Yeah, he’d been fucking insufferable with the constant ‘you’re doing amazing’s, but he was trying his best. Bea couldn’t exactly be mad at him - he’d just put up with eight hours of her screaming bloody murder and telling everyone who came near her to go fuck themselves. And she’s pretty sure she’d been gripping his hand so tightly she came close to breaking a couple of his fingers. 

The room is quiet now. It’s bliss, compared to the chaos of the last few hours - the mad rush of doctors and nurses and blood and sweat and swearing. It’s getting dark outside, the glow of the city lights flickering through the thin curtains. There’s a plastic crib next to Bianca’s bed, with a pink label on its side. Adore Del Rio, 6lbs 3oz. 

No matter how disgusting and tiring her day has been - and it was really tiring, and really, really fucking disgusting - a sense of enormous, beautiful calm had washed over Bianca when she held her daughter for the first time. Her daughter. 

She’d never felt anything like this before, looking down at the tiny, squishy, pink bundle in her arms. She’s asleep now, wrapped in a blanket and held to Bea’s bare chest. She’s so…little, and so delicate, Bianca thinks as Adore - her fucking daughter - wriggles and murmurs, reaching up for her with one perfect, miniature hand. The delicate curls of her wispy brown hair, and the gentle rise and fall of her chest as Bianca holds her close - she can’t believe that she fucking made her. She’s so perfect, and so goddamn fucking small - and Bianca feels both blissfully zen, and absolutely ready to tear anybody who tries to take Adore away from her limb from limb. 

She’s barely been here for an hour, and Bianca loves her more than she’s ever loved anything else before. 

*****

March 18th, 2041

“Did you finish your homework last night?”

“Yes.” Adore, lacking in any semblance of enthusiasm, grunts from the kitchen table; pulling out one of her earbuds and looking at Bianca with a mix of indignation and fury.   

“Then how come I’m getting emails from the school - again - about you not turning it in?” Bianca places the last clean plate on the dishrack and turns around, leaning against the counter and drying her wet hands on the ass of her jeans. That fails to elicit any form of response from her asshole teenager, and she tries again. “Come the fuck on, Dorey- it’s like you don’t even want to graduate.”

“Maybe I don’t?” She tilts her head, shit-eating grin on her face. That was a deliberate attempt at pissing her off - Bianca has gotten pretty good in recent years at telling those apart from Adore pissing her off without meaning to, and she tries not to let it. Even if her blood is already quietly simmering. 

“Oh, you absolutely do if you wanna keep living in this house-”

“Leave her alone, Bea.” Ben laughs, sitting opposite from Adore, as he looks up from the article he’s reading on his tablet. 

He only got home from work about an hour ago - most of Bianca’s days off fall on weekdays, so she’s been at home all day, doing pretty much nothing of note until Adore got home from school. They’d had a minor screaming match about the state of Adore’s room - Bianca had threatened to withhold phone privileges and her car keys until Adore relented, threw out the fifteen water bottles she’d been accumulating on her nightstand, and hid the rest of her mess in the closet. Fuck it, good enough. 

They only seemed to either argue or ignore each other when Ben wasn’t home which was…just fucking great. It made Bianca feel totally awesome about herself. But Ben is back, order has been restored, and Bianca is cleaning up after dinner like nothing had happened. 

“Whose side are you on?” Bianca replies, faux-shocked. “Fucking traitor.” 

“Clearly mine, because I’m his favorite,” Adore smirks. You don’t know the fucking half of it, Dorey. 

Bianca isn’t saying anything, but the way that Adore is looking at her tells her that she probably still looks mad. This recurring point of tension is getting several million miles up Bianca’s ass. 

Adore’s latest thing, with her last months of high school on horizon, has been threatening not to go to college. She’d gotten her applications in by some fucking miracle, and by even further fucking miracle had been accepted for a songwriting major at some prestigious music school that Bianca couldn’t remember the name of - and was now adamant that she wasn’t going, in favour of driving around the country with the ‘band’ that her and her dumbass friends had formed last summer, playing gigs in basements and doing god-knows what else. 

Bianca feels like she knows on some level that this is all talk; of course Adore is gonna graduate and go, she’s not stupid. But she’s been in the midst of a prolonged rebellious phase since she was about thirteen. Every time they fight about it, Bianca wants to shake Adore and tell her you’re gonna fucking do this because I couldn’t, stop being fucking ungrateful - but her failed aspirations aren’t Adore’s fault. 

It just annoys her. Adore, in every possible way, has had an easier life than Bianca ever did and she struggles not to hate her for it. Her future is available to her on a silver goddamn platter, she’s looking for reasons to not take it, and for fucking what? Being cool? 

Ben, against what had seemed like all odds when they were in their twenties, had really fallen upwards from the joint error that had changed the trajectory of both of their lives. That first ‘pay the bills’ office job doing whatever-the-fuck had unlocked Ben’s secret talent for playing corporate ball, and a little less than eighteen years later he was the CFO of an LGBT charity, and making what Bianca deemed to be a fucking stupid amount of money. Enough to afford their too-nice house in a too-nice neighborhood in West LA, and Adore’s too-nice performing arts high school. 

Bianca had climbed about as far up the ladder as she’d been able to, but given that she was a college dropout with no real experience in anything else, the depressing non-failure of retail store management was about the best she could manage. It wore her down; the feeling of uselessness and guilt as she inhabited this existence that felt a million miles above her means. 

“This is insane - have you guys read about this new Cookie Heaven thing they’re trialing?” Ben looks up again, breaking the frosty silence - Bianca disinterestedly flicking through her phone, Adore disinterestedly pretending to finish her homework. “Guys?” 

Ben had been bizarrely fixated on this emergent technology for the last year or so - some shit about consciousness transfers and virtual afterlifes that Bianca didn’t understand and didn’t care to. It made her skin crawl, not that she had any idea why. Truly, the rate at which Cookies as a principle had been developed, outlawed, un-outlawed, given rights, made illegal again but only in certain situations - it felt like it dominated the news, and with every possible turn it got weirder. Their trajectory had felt like trying to find a point for something that had been invented pointlessly. Criminal justice, entertainment, smart home tech, medical advances, god knows what else - Bianca just thought they were a bit macabre. 

“Nope, don’t want to. It’s creepy.” Bianca shudders, kicking off the process of shutting him up about it before he talks about it too much and gets under her skin. “Is this like that chick who died in that AR art thing at Burning Man and got stuck in the Cloud? Because that freaked me the fuck out.”

“Why? I think it’s really nice. According to this, they’ve been successful with people who’ve been uploaded prior to death, so now they’re looking at trialing it for long-term coma patients, end-of-life care, people with Alzheimer’s - it could be really promising.”

“Absolutely not - when I die, let me rest in fucking peace.” Bianca pulls a face.  “Don't throw some gross little computer clone of me into a weird simulation and force me to live forever - it’s weird. I don’t like it." 

“Bianca, Cookies aren’t just computers-” 

“It’s messed up.”

Adore shuffles uncomfortably in her seat, pushing her earbuds in further. Bianca half-watches her, pursing her lips. 

“I think it’s sweet. It says in the article that if this trial thing works, then they’re going to look at options for letting family members visit,” Ben says a little wistfully. 

“Ah.” It takes a moment of thought, but Bianca feels like an asshole. 

“Look, I just think that if something like that had been around thirty years ago, it would have been…” he stops, not sure how to finish his sentence. Ben’s mom died when he was ten, and that tragedy has been underpinning Adore’s entire adolescence; his constant anxiety over something happening to himself or Bianca, not wanting his daughter to have to suffer through the same lifelong, unshifting grief. “Think about Adore-”

“Yeah - maybe think about me enough to not have this conversation right in fucking front of me?” Adore bolts to her feet, her hands clasped at her sides. Her eyes look moist. Bianca half-opens her mouth, trying to say something, but no words make their way out. “This is freaking me out - stop it!”

She scrubs at her eyes furiously with a balled fist, storming out of the room and letting the door swing shut behind her with a thud. 

“Dorey-” Ben calls out weakly after her. 

“What the fuck was that?” Bianca walks around the table, slumping down into the seat Adore had just been occupying. She hears Adore’s bedroom door slam from upstairs. 

“I dunno - I guess that got a little heavy? I mean, who wants to sit around and listen to their parents talking about what’s gonna happen when they die?” Ben looks uncomfortable, chewing at his bottom lip. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”  

“Yeah,” Bianca replies distantly, not really listening. 

“I do mean it, though.” Ben says, leaning across the table - looking past Bianca’s folded arms and frosty expression. “If I’d had some way to still talk to my mom - even if it wasn’t fully real, even if it was just a simulation - I’d have wanted that. And I don’t think it’s fair that we should stop Adore from having that chance.”

“What, so I have to commit to being alive forever even when I don’t want to, for her benefit? I don’t think she even likes me anymore, Ben - she wouldn’t care.” Bianca sounds more morose than she wants to, but it’s true. She loves Adore, but god knows the kid is going out of her way to make that difficult. 

“Believe me, she would.” Ben looks at her a little too seriously. “I’m just saying I think we should look into it.” 

“Look into it all you want - I’m not doing it.” 

“Seriously, Bea-” Ben is looking at her with puppy eyes and it’s making her feel nauseous. “For Adore?”

There’s loud music blasting upstairs, and Bianca is wondering if it’s Adore picking up an old habit of putting her speakers on when she’s crying, so that nobody can hear her. She wants to go and check on her, but she’s glaringly aware that any interference from her is perceived as a pending attack by Adore right now - how powerless she feels hurts. Bianca looks at the floor, picking at her cuticles. 

 “Fine.”

*****

August 4th, 2042

“So, I’m sure this isn’t gonna come as a shock to you, but your dad and I got a divorce.” 

Adore’s eyes practically pop out of her head as she spits her coffee out. More of it gets on Bianca’s face than she would have liked. 

“What?” 

“I don’t think I left much room for interpretation there, Dorey,” Bianca grimaces, wiping secondhand iced latte off of her cheek with a napkin. 

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Why the fuck did you get a divorce?” Adore looks sullen. Almost angry, actually. 

Regardless of how different they’d seemed to become as she’d grown up, every so often Bianca was hit with a very, very strong reminder that Adore was her mother’s daughter. Calm and rational, per fucking usual. 

She’d debated back and forth with Ben about who should tell her. They’d been dancing around the subject since June, when Adore had first come home for summer; practically rehearsing the conversation. Eventually they’d settled on Bianca - Ben had admitted himself that Bianca’s at times abrasive directness was the way forward. Adore didn’t hold well with people pussyfooting around her, and Ben was always a little too delicate with her feelings. He’d been the ideal Good Cop to Bianca’s bad one when Adore was little - but she was nineteen now, had moved out almost a year ago, and was as close to a real adult as she was realistically ever gonna be. She needed someone to be straight with her. And, well, out of the two of them, Bianca was probably the closest thing to straight. Even after nearly twenty years of marriage. 

The split itself had been more than amicable, since years of planning had gone into it. The only slight point of contention had been, in the process of unpicking and rewriting both of their advanced directives, Ben had been pretty insistent on her keeping the part about San June-whatever-the-fuck - that weird Cookie Heaven thing which she’d hoped would just be a passing fad when Ben brought it up last spring, but had only gained more traction and more apparent success. 

She’d tried to reason with him about Adore being a grown-up now, and how she’d made it through the last year without shuffling off this mortal coil, and so their respective deaths were probably a far-future issue that they shouldn’t be so worried about right now, but it hadn’t flown. Bianca had spent long enough in lawyers’ offices debating bullshit to have any useful argument left in her. She’d thought the divorce process would be less of a nightmare since it was agreed upon by both parties prior to the fucking wedding, but apparently she’d thought wrong.

“Because we…” Bianca sighs, facepalming. Adore has tears in her eyes. Shit, she really hadn’t been expecting this. “Because he’s gay, Adore.” 

Adore’s eyes pop again. Bianca clamps a hand over her mouth before she gets a chance to cover her in overpriced coffee again. 

“Daddy’s gay?” Adore blurts out as soon as she manages to swallow. 

“Duh?” That just tumbles out of Bianca’s mouth without any real thought. “Are you really telling me that you never suspected anything?” 

“No? I thought he was just like…I dunno, really into theater. Did you just find out? Holy shit, are you okay?” Adore reaches for Bianca’s hand a little frantically. Bianca laughs, shaking her head. 

“Nope - I’ve always known. Dorey, I…” she sighs again, realizing how ridiculous this sounds. “Listen, when a gay man and a bisexual live together, and they get really, really drunk this one time…” 

“Ohmigod, you’re bi?” 

How unobservant is this fucking kid? 

“Yeah - surprise. Now you know why we were so fucking chill about it when you cut all your hair off and started begging for a pair of Doc Martens when you were twelve,” Bianca says, chuckling. 

A confused look washes over Adore’s face. “But I…you always seemed so in love.”

“We decided we were gonna get married and pretend to be normal so that we didn’t fuck you up,” Bianca shrugs. “Which clearly worked super well.” 

Adore cracks a smile. It feels good to see her smile. 

Since Adore moved out for college - miracle of fucking miracles - the rift between them that her teenage years had created seemed to fill itself in. Bianca felt closer to her; felt the warmth of her love without hesitation or denial for the first time in years. She was like a different person. Happy - blossoming into herself. She’d started posting her music on social media, and was getting enough buzz to land gigs here and there. And she hadn’t just stopped pushing Bianca away, but had started actively reaching out for her. She called her at least once every couple of days because she missed her; messaged her constantly. Just frivolous little updates about her days, or pictures of dogs that she’d seen - silly little shit. But it felt good. 

She’d worried that it wouldn’t last. But Adore had come home for summer, and as it trailed to an end, there’d been no second coming of their years-long bitch-feud. Everything had been fucking glorious. 

“Boo, you’re mean,” Adore says playfully. 

“For the record, we were good at faking being in love because we both love you,” Bianca says, reaching out to take Adore’s hand. She’s bitten off two of her acrylics again - Bianca is a little suspicious about which two exactly, and briefly debates calling her out for it. Whatever - she’s an adult, she can do what she wants. But Bianca is taking her to get a manicure once they get done oversharing in the middle of this cafe, because it looks like shit. “That’s not gonna change. But you’re probably gonna end up with stepparents.” 

Adore looks down. She’s always done this cute little smirky thing when she’s embarrassed - eyes fixed to the floor, quietly smiling to herself. Bianca loves it. 

“Are you dating anyone right now?” 

Bianca rolls her eyes. 

“We’re not dating-dating. But yeah - her name is Katya, I met her online.”

“Is she hot?”

“None of your business - she’s too old for you anyway,” Bianca shoots Adore a warning look. “Your dad was on a date last night, too - some guy called Darius, apparently it went really well. But I’m gonna look into getting his room soundproofed.” 

“Ewwww,” Adore clamps her hands over her ears, laughing. “You’re being gross. Stop being gross.” 

“Don’t ask questions you’re not prepared to hear the answer to,” Bianca grins. “Are you good now? Or do you feel like spitting coffee all over me again? I really enjoyed it that first time.” 

“Honestly? I always wondered why none of my friends’ parents had their own bedrooms,” Adore thinks out loud. Bianca shakes her head, chuckling. 

“I love you so much, you fucking moron.”

Pride Challenge Points: 10,312