#need to get it out of my system (ha get it?)

[elumish]

My September 2024 election reminder: ideological purity will not win you anything.

I see people on the left saying that they can't possibly vote for Harris because she's too pro-Israel, because she's too far to the right on immigration, because she's too far to the right on criminal justice, because she was a cop (she wasn't), because you think this policy or that policy is too conservative.

Not voting for her only increases the chances that we get a president who is even further to the right.

Those are our two choices. Like it or not, support the American political system or not, we have two choices, and one of them is further to the right on every single policy that you have opinions about.

So if you think Harris is too far to the right on Israel/Gaza, remember: Trump is so much further to the right. You don't like that the Biden administration is providing military aid to Israel (a thing that Harris cannot actually stop even if she wanted to, given that she's not president)? Trump has already proven, on a policy level, to be more pro-Israel. Remember when he moved the U.S. Embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, functionally acknowledging Israeli sovereignty over Jerusalem? He is extremely pro-Israel and has materially proven it. Harris, on the other hand, has been calling for a cease fire since March and has recognized out loud the need for Palestinian sovereignty.

If you're wondering why she hasn't changed U.S. policy on Israel, I would like to remind you once again: she is not currently the President of the United States.

Holding on to your precious ideological purity and not voting for someone whose policies you find distasteful will not result in policies you like. It only increases the risk of policies that are so much further away from what you want.

Voting is public transportation. Voting is harm reduction. Voting is moving us a little bit closer towards the policies we want or, at the very least, keeping us from moving further and further away.

[ms-demeanor]

On insurance: I still live with my parents and don't know a lot yet about the sorts of things adults usually have to spend money on. I've always been skeptical of things like insurance and credit cards because it seems to me they wouldn't be selling that if they didn't expect to make money from it. I talked to my cousin a while ago about credit cards and basically came to the conclusion that they do that because they're betting on the customer getting sloppy and letting their debts stack up, and the way you beat that and get money from credit card companies is just by being careful.

I'm a little more confused about insurance though because it seems much more straightforwardly like a gamble they will simply not take if it won't pay off for them. Like, you don't go to a casino because every game they play at a casino is one they've done the math on and have determined that statistically most people will lose money on most of the time. Is insurance not kinda the same? Where they estimate the risk and then charge you an amount calculated to make sure it probably won't be worth it for you?

I know if you have a car you legally need car insurance so everyone knows you can pay for another car if you crash into someone, and I gather that here in the US at least health insurance companies have some kinda deal with hospitals so that the prices go down or something, and there's a reason I don't fully understand why not having health insurance is Really Bad. But we get to pet insurance, or like when I buy a concert ticket and it offers ticket insurance in case I can't make it to the show, and surely if they thought they were gonna lose money on that they just wouldn't sell it, right? Or they'd raise the price of it until it became worth the risk that something bad actually will happen? Wouldn't it only be worth it to buy insurance if you know something the insurance company doesn't?

So the deal is that most people don't use their insurance much, and often insurance companies will incentivize doing things that will make you use your insurance less.

So, for example, you can get a discount on car insurance if you have multiple cars because people who insure multiple cars are more likely to be responsible drivers (the ability to pay for multiple cars stands in as a representation of responsibility here). The longer you go without an accident, the lower your premiums get because that means that you are not costing your insurance company anything but you are paying into the system. The car insurance company's goal is to have the most responsible, safest drivers who never get into car accidents because they can predict (roughly) how much they're going to have to pay out to their customers and they want the number they pay out to be lower than what's paid in. So they try to discourage irresponsible drivers by raising their rates and encourage responsible drivers by giving them discounts.

Health insurance companies often do the same thing: I recently got a gift card from my health insurance company because I had a visit from a nurse who interviewed me about my overall health and made sure I had stable blood pressure and access to medications. It is literally cheaper for my insurance company to give me a $100 giftcard and hire a nurse to visit me than it is for me to go to my doctor's office a couple of times, so they try to make sure that their customers are getting preventative care and are seeing inexpensive medical professionals regularly so that they don't have to suddenly see very expensive professionals after a long time without care.

Insurance in the US has many, many, many problems and should be replaced with socialized healthcare for a huge number of reasons but right now, because it is an insurance-based system, you need to have insurance.

We're going to use Large Bastard as an example.

Large Bastard had insurance when he had his heart attack and when he needed multiple organs transplanted. He didn't *want* to be paying for insurance, because he thought he was healthy enough to get by, but I insisted. His premium is four hundred dollars a month, and his out of pocket maximum is eight thousand dollars a year. That means that every year, he pays about $5000 whether he uses his insurance or not, and if he DOES need to use the insurance, he pays the first $8k worth of care, so every year his insurance has the possibility of costing him thirteen thousand dollars.

The bill for his bypass surgery was a quarter million dollars.

The bill for his transplant was over one and a half million dollars.

His medication each month is around six hundred dollars. He needs to have multiple biopsies - which are surgeries - each year, and each one costs about twenty thousand dollars.

Without health insurance, he would very likely be dead, or we would be *even more* incapable of paying for his healthcare than we are right now. He almost ditched his insurance because he was a healthy-seeming 40-year-old and he didn't think he'd get sick. And then he proceeded to be the sickest human being I've ever known personally who did not actually die.

Health insurance costs a lot of money. It costs less money for people who are young and who are expected to be healthy. But the thing is, everybody pays into health insurance, and very, very few people end up using as much money for their medical expenses as Large Bastard did. There are a few thousand transplants in the US ever year, but there are hundreds of millions of people paying for insurance.

This ends up balancing out (sort of) so that people who pay for insurance get a much lower cost on care if they need it, hospitals get paid for the care they provide, and the insurance company makes enough money to continue to exist. Part of the reason that people don't like this scheme is because "insurance company" could feasibly be replaced by "government" and it would cost less and provide a better standard of care, but again, with things as they are now, you need to have insurance. Insurance companies are large entities that are able to negotiate down costs with the providers they work with, you are not. If you get hit by a car you may be able to get your medical bills significantly reduced through a number of means, but you're very unlikely to get your bills lower than the cost of insurance and a copay.

Because of the Affordable Care Act, which is flawed but which did a LOT of good, medical insurance companies cannot refuse to treat you because of preexisting conditions and also cannot jack up your premiums to intolerable rates - since Large Bastard got sick, he has had the standard price increases you'd expect from aging, but nothing like the gouging you might expect from an insurance company deciding you're not worth it.

Pet insurance works on the same model. Millions of people pay for the insurance, thousands of people end up needing it, a few hundred end up needing a LOT of it, and the insurance companies are able to make more money than they hand out, so they continue to exist. This is part of why it's less expensive to get pet insurance for younger animals - people who sign up puppies and kittens are likely to be paying for a very long time and are likely to provide a lot of preventative care for their animals, so they're a good bet for the insurer. Animals signed up when they are older are more likely to have health problems (and pet insurance CAN turn animals away for preexisting conditions) and are going to cost the insurance companies more, so they cost more to enroll (and animals over a certain age or with certain conditions may be denied entirely).

This weighing risk/reward is called actuarial science, and the insurance industry is built on it.

But yeah it's kind of betting. The insurance company says "I'll insure ten thousand dogs and I'm going to bet that only a hundred of them will need surgery at some point in the next year" and if they're correct, they make money and the dogs who need surgery get their surgery paid for out of the premiums from the nine thousand nine hundred dogs who didn't need surgery.

Your assessment of credit is correct: credit card companies expect that you will end up carrying a balance, and that balance will accrue interest, and the interest is how they make the money.

And it is EASY to fuck up financially as an adult. REALLY EASY. But you are still likely to need a good credit score so you will need a credit history. That means that the correct way to use a credit card is to have a card, but not carry a balance.

To do this, never buy anything on the card that you can't afford. In order to avoid needing the card for emergencies, start an emergency fund that is at least 3 months of your total pay *before* you get a credit card. That seems like a *lot* of savings to have, but from the perspective of someone who has had plenty of mess-ups, it's a lot easier to build up a $10k emergency fund than it is to pay off a $10k credit card debt.

If you don't understand how interest works on credit cards, or why a 10k savings is different than a 10k debt, here are some examples working with $10k of debt, 23% interest (an average-ish rate for people with average credit), and various payments.

With that debt and that interest, here's how much it costs and how long it would take to pay off with $200 as the monthly payment:

Fourteen years, and it would cost you about twenty four thousand dollars in interest, for a total amount paid of about thirty four thousand dollars.

To save $10k at $200 a month would take four years and two months.

Here's the same debt at $300 a month:

4.5 Years and it costs about six grand (again, just in interest - sixteen thousand dollars total). Saving ten thousand dollars at three hundred dollars a month would take just under three years.

Here's the same debt at $400 a month:

3 years, about $4000 dollars (fourteen thousand dollars total). Saving ten thousand dollars at $400 a month takes just over two years.

The thing is, with all of these models you're going to end up paying one way or another. Insurance vs out of pocket is you weighing the risk of losing a fair amount of money by signing up but not using the system, or potentially losing a catastrophic amount of money by not signing up.

For credit cards they really only work if you know you're never going to need them for an emergency, because an emergency is what you're not going to be able to pay off right away. I didn't have an emergency fund when Large Bastard had his heart attack and needed surgery, or when we moved between states suddenly, or when we moved between states suddenly AGAIN and needed to pay storage costs, or when Large Bastard needed a transplant, or when Tiny Bastard got in a fight with my MiL's dog, and the fact that I didn't have an emergency fund is still costing me a lot of money.

So, young folks out there: what's the takeaway?

Get insurance. Get the best deal possible, which usually ends up being the one you sign up for early. You may think you can let it ride without insurance, but man in the six months between when I graduate college (and lost my school insurance) and when care kicked in after 90 days at my job I got electrocuted and needed to go to the ER. If that hadn't been a worker's comp payout I would have had thousands of dollars in bills. Something could happen. You could break your leg, you could get hit by a car, you could suddenly find out that you actually have heart disease at twenty, you could develop cancer. Have insurance, you need insurance. You legally need car insurance in the US, and you financially need health insurance. If you have a pet, I think it's a good idea for them to have pet insurance.

Credit cards are not for emergencies, they are not for fun, they are not for buying things that are just ever so slightly out of your budget, they are for taking advantage of the credit card company and managing to get by in a system that demands you have a credit score. ONLY put purchases on your credit card that you already have cash for. Before you get a credit card, build up an emergency savings so that you aren't tempted to put emergency charges on your card.

If you DO end up with an interest-bearing debt, pay it off as fast as possible because letting it linger costs you a LOT of money in the long run.

Stay the fuck away from tobacco and nicotine products they are fucking terrible for you, they are fucking expensive, and they are not worth it put the vapes down put the zyns down put the cigarettes down I will begin manifesting in your house physically i swear to fuck. Knock that shit off and put the cash that you'd be spending on nicotine into a savings account.

Take care, sorry everything sucks, I promise that in some ways it actually sucks less than it did before and we're working on trying to make it suck even less but it's taking a while.

[wileys-russo]

Hi ,

Platonic ingrid / Alexia with mapi and pollito " they are idiots , but they are my idiot , still they are idiots " in park or during matches

Thank you

part of the pollito universe our idiots II a.putellas, m.león, i.engen

"oye nena, you are going to send yourself deaf!" you winced at the pinch to your knee, pulling your headphones down around your neck and sending the older catalan a scowl.

"you told me you did not like my music. this was the solution!" you defended yourself, having been banned from any kind of music control in alexia's car.

personally you felt it was an unfair judgement. it wasn't your fault that the songs you liked to listen to just sounded best at max volume, or that you'd accidentally blown alexia's speaker system trying to prove that point.

"you never listen as it is chica, i need these to work." you whined at the sharp tug on your ear, unclicking your seatbelt and practically diving out of the car away from her, headphones left on your seat.

but of course the moment the door closed and you stood up straight, stretching out with a sigh did someone else grab at you, hands gripping your wrists and forcing your arms to twist behind your head.

"buenas tardes pollito!" the familiar voice cooed in your ear, a wet kiss to your cheek with a loud mwah having you grimacing in disgust and trying to yank your arms free.

"suéltame hijo de puta!" you spat, grunting with the effort of trying to pull away but it was fruitless as she merely laughed at your attempts. "such ugly words." mapi tutted at the language you hauled her way during the struggle, whining as mapi used your hands to make you hit yourself.

"alexia, ayuda!" you called out as the older girl finally emerged from the car, head having been buried in her phone. but as she opened her mouth to no doubt order mapi to let you go, someone else stepped in first.

"maría! let her go, what did i say about picking on her?" you perked up at the norweigans warning, mapi finally letting you go with a huff, hurrying to hide behind the taller girl as you lunged for her.

"well hello." ingrid chuckled as instead you moved to tightly hug her, flipping her girlfriend the finger behind her back and grinning as mapi narrowed her eyes but ultimately couldn't do anything about it with ingrid acting as a barrier between the two of you.

"hermana!" your head whipped around and your eyes lit up as another car door slammed closed, your older sister gabriella opening her arms expectantly as you let go of ingrid and rushed over toward her.

but her face fell and eyes rolled as you dropped to your knees in front and started to coo fondly at the fluffy newfoundland by her side, arms thrown around his neck and kisses pressed against his head as your sister sighed and tapped your shoulder, holding out his leash.

"me alegro de verte imbécil!" the older girl yelled after you as you took your dogs leash and sprinted off toward the park you'd all met up at, alexia chuckling at the sight and greeting your sister with a hug.

"and you are sure you are okay with him for the weekend?" gabriella asked with a frown, alexia nodding but not without a sigh. "she has been begging for weeks for one of them to come and visit, if she had her way all four of them would be here." your captain chuckled, and it was true you'd been pestering her forever to let one of your family dogs come and stay.

you'd been on fire the last few games, scoring five times in three matches and even getting your first start of the season.

then to try and sweeten alexia up more you'd pulled back your usual reckless activities and pranks, your list set aside for the time being as you focused on proving to her that you were responsible.

it was almost scary just how quickly you'd switched up.

you were always as helpful as you could be around the house, forever helping to clean up and even offering to cook (but after last time olga and alexia would politely decline, the bitter memory of your last culinary creation still lingering in their tastebuds and nightmares).

but now even at training you were on your very best behaviour, always offering to help the staff set up and pack down, the first to get boots on the grass and the last to run them off, doing your best not to interrupt anyone or goof off during each session.

plus given that the last time one of your dogs had come for a visit it was you sneaking him in behind alexia's back when she was away for the weekend.

and that resulted in her returning to two missing couch cushions (assumed to be eaten), a suspicious stain on the rug, two smashed vases and a nasty little surprise or three in her bedroom and ensuite that you'd missed and not cleaned up.

so after two weeks of your disturbingly angel like behaviour the midfielder had caved and agreed that one of the dogs could come for a weekend sleepover, but that was all she'd bend to.

of course you'd chosen your favourite, diego. a slobbery newfoundland which when he stood on his two back legs was taller than you were and was deaf in one ear.

but seeing the way your face lit up at the sight of him and hearing your laughter echo across the park as you both raced around it, alexia knew she'd made the right decision.

merely giving your sister a wave goodbye she rolled her eyes again as she bid the others farewell and slipped back into the car, a two and a half drive back to your childhood town ahead of her you made a mental note to call her later to thank her properly.

but for now all you could focus on was diego, ingrid and alexia disappearing to get a coffee as mapi stayed in the park with you, a backpack of diegos things in her hand as you squatted down and began to rifle through it.

"oye nena! what is the command for down?" mapi yelled out, struggling as diego's two front paws sat on her shoulder and she tried not to fall over under his weight, her neck craned away from his tongue which was trying its best to lick at her face.

"diego, bah!" you turned around and yelled, diego immediately dropping into a sitting position as mapi sighed in relief and cooed at him affectionately, scratching behind his ears and grinning at the way his back foot thumped against the ground happily.

"which ear is it?" mapi asked with a frown as you grabbed out his favourite toy, pointing to your right ear and whistling sharply, wiggling the worn leather football at the dog who dropped to his stomach with his tail wagging rapidly.

"go long!" you waved for mapi to back up as she jogged to create some distance between the pair of you. "remember how?" mapi cupped her hands over her mouth as you nodded, adjusting your grip on the NFL ball you'd brought back from your trip to texas in the pre-season.

before the season started properly you'd gone home to see your family for one of your older brothers birthdays, having gotten a cowboys jersey and the ball as him for a present. only the moment you'd stepped past the front door all four dogs had rushed at you, the ball snatched from your hand and rapidly becoming their present now.

"diego. vamos!" you yelled, launching the football toward mapi who side stepped to catch it, diego just arriving in front of her before she'd tossed the ball back to you, diego sprinting between the two of you and barking happily as you threw the ball back and forth.

you were still doing that same thing when ingrid and alexia returned, coffees in hand for all four of you as well as a water bottle for diego who was rapidly running out of steam, merely trotting between the pair of you now.

spotting her girlfriend mapi called it quits, dropping the ball and racing over as you rolled your eyes and went off to retrieve it, diego padding tiredly after you as you clipped his leash back on and tucked the ball under your arm and grabbing his backpack with the other.

grabbing out the portable water bowl you thanked ingrid as she handed you the bottle, pouring some out for diego who collapsed to his stomach, eagerly lapping away as you left him to it beneath the table, well covered with the shade.

"decaf." alexia warned handing you the iced coffee as you rolled your eyes but kept your discontent to yourself.

olga was more than happy to pour you a proper coffee of a morning when alexia wasn't home, but the midfielder herself remained firm in her belief that you had more than enough energy without adding caffeine to it.

"pollito what is this?" mapi pulled a face as she tugged a heavy weighted vest out of the backpack.

"diegos anxiety vest! he gets night terrors and he is scared of thunder, it might storm this weekend." you explained with a shrug as if that was normal, missing the odd look shared between the three older girls at the picnic table.

"ven aquí pequeña, i want to try something." mapi beckoned you over, confusion in your features as she slipped the vest over your head. "amiga what-" alexia started, cut off as there was a loud thud, mapi's fist thumping against the vest and hitting you right in the stomach.

"maría!" ingrid gasped in shock, smacking the back of the defenders neck who choked on a mouthful of coffee and glared at her over her shoulder, coughing and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"qué? that did not hurt her! right?" she looked to you as you nodded in surprise, testing it again by punching yourself now and lighting up as you barely felt a thing.

"tonta! take that off, it smells." alexia sniffed the air and pulled a face, trying to pull it off you as you pushed her hands off, catching mapi's eye and suggestive grin, diegos football in her hands as she cocked an eyebrow at you.

it seemed the two of you had a brief and silent conversation across the table, alexia and ingrid clueless to your plans as you suddenly nodded and eagerly raced off after the tattooed zaragozan.

for once diego didn't follow you, just watching on tiredly from his shady recluse under the table as ingrids foot rubbed gently against his hip.

both ingrid and alexia watched on themselves, curious where this was going as you and mapi talked for a second before doing your handshake which had them both rolling their eyes, the two of you having been working on it as a goal celebration for weeks now.

once again mapi backed up to put some distance between the two of you, winding up to throw the ball as you squatted down ready to catch, the vest still sitting across your chest.

"oh no." ingrid realised first where this was going as mapi launched the ball and started to sprint toward you, the ball caught in your hands as you stood up and clearly braced yourself.

"qué son-" alexia didn't even get to finish her question before it was answered for her, mapi's body hurtling into yours and tackling you down to the ground, shoulder slamming into your stomach as there was a thump, your body hitting the grass.

alexia was up on her feet with a face like thunder, ready to march right over and pull the pair of you off one another, a lecture on the tip of her tongue as mapi rolled off of you and collapsed into a fit of laughter which you soon joined in with.

"estoy bien ale!" you yelled out, spotting alexia ready to make her way over and sending her a thumbs up and a wolfish grin, mapi hopping up and holding out a hand to help you do the same.

"they are idiots." alexia grumbled, a hint of a smile on her face but eyebrows furrowed together as she slowly sat back down with a shake of her head.

mapi's laughter again flew through the air as you'd grabbed her hand to be helped up, the older girl pulling you halfway before letting go and sending you thumping back down onto your back.

"but they are our idiots." ingrid added onto alexia's previous statement with a chuckle of her own, the two of them watching on with small smiles at you and mapi.

"puta!" you managed out between your own laughter, foot lashing out at mapi as she dodged it and tossed the football at you, collapsing beside you as it bounced off your head and you whined, launching at her as the two of you rolled around on the grass wrestling.

"sí. but still, they are idiots."

[tinystepsforward]

autocrattic (more matt shenanigans, not tumblr this time)

I am almost definitely not the right person for this writeup, but I'm closer than most people on here, so here goes! This is all open-source tech drama, and I take my time laying out the context, but the short version is: Matt tried to extort another company, who immediately posted receipts, and now he's refusing to log off again. The long version is... long.

If you don't need software context, scroll down/find the "ok tony that's enough. tell me what's actually happening" heading, or just go read the pink sections. Or look at this PDF.

the background

So. Matt's original Good Idea was starting WordPress with fellow developer Mike Little in 2003, which is free and open-source software (FOSS) that was originally just for blogging, but now powers lots of websites that do other things. In particular, Automattic acquired WooCommerce a long time ago, which is free online store software you can run on WordPress.

FOSS is... interesting. It's a world that ultimately is powered by people who believe deeply that information and resources should be free, but often have massive blind spots (for example, Wikipedia's consistently had issues with bias, since no amount of "anyone can edit" will overcome systemic bias in terms of who has time to edit or is not going to be driven away by the existing contributor culture). As with anything else that people spend thousands of hours doing online, there's drama. As with anything else that's technically free but can be monetized, there are:

Heaps of companies and solo developers who profit off WordPress themes, plugins, hosting, and other services;

Conflicts between volunteer contributors and for-profit contributors;

Annoying founders who get way too much credit for everything the project has become.

the WordPress ecosystem

A project as heavily used as WordPress (some double-digit percentage of the Internet uses WP. I refuse to believe it's the 43% that Matt claims it is, but it's a pretty large chunk) can't survive just on the spare hours of volunteers, especially in an increasingly monetised world where its users demand functional software, are less and less tech or FOSS literate, and its contributors have no fucking time to build things for that userbase.

Matt runs Automattic, which is a privately-traded, for-profit company. The free software is run by the WordPress Foundation, which is technically completely separate (wordpress.org). The main products Automattic offers are WordPress-related: WordPress.com, a host which was designed to be beginner-friendly; Jetpack, a suite of plugins which extend WordPress in a whole bunch of ways that may or may not make sense as one big product; WooCommerce, which I've already mentioned. There's also WordPress VIP, which is the fancy bespoke five-digit-plus option for enterprise customers. And there's Tumblr, if Matt ever succeeds in putting it on WordPress. (Every Tumblr or WordPress dev I know thinks that's fucking ridiculous and impossible. Automattic's hiring for it anyway.)

Automattic devotes a chunk of its employees toward developing Core, which is what people in the WordPress space call WordPress.org, the free software. This is part of an initiative called Five for the Future — 5% of your company's profits off WordPress should go back into making the project better. Many other companies don't do this.

There are lots of other companies in the space. GoDaddy, for example, barely gives back in any way (and also sucks). WP Engine is the company this drama is about. They don't really contribute to Core. They offer relatively expensive WordPress hosting, as well as providing a series of other WordPress-related products like LocalWP (local site development software), Advanced Custom Fields (the easiest way to set up advanced taxonomies and other fields when making new types of posts. If you don't know what this means don't worry about it), etc.

Anyway. Lots of strong personalities. Lots of for-profit companies. Lots of them getting invested in, or bought by, private equity firms.

Matt being Matt, tech being tech

As was said repeatedly when Matt was flipping out about Tumblr, all of the stuff happening at Automattic is pretty normal tech company behaviour. Shit gets worse. People get less for their money. WordPress.com used to be a really good place for people starting out with a website who didn't need "real" WordPress — for $48 a year on the Personal plan, you had really limited features (no plugins or other customisable extensions), but you had a simple website with good SEO that was pretty secure, relatively easy to use, and 24-hour access to Happiness Engineers (HEs for short. Bad job title. This was my job) who could walk you through everything no matter how bad at tech you were. Then Personal plan users got moved from chat to emails only. Emails started being responded to by contractors who didn't know as much as HEs did and certainly didn't get paid half as well. Then came AI, and the mandate for HEs to try to upsell everyone things they didn't necessarily need. (This is the point at which I quit.)

But as was said then as well, most tech CEOs don't publicly get into this kind of shitfight with their users. They're horrid tyrants, but they don't do it this publicly.

ok tony that's enough. tell me what's actually happening

WordCamp US, one of the biggest WordPress industry events of the year, is the backdrop for all this. It just finished.

There are.... a lot of posts by Matt across multiple platforms because, as always, he can't log off. But here's the broad strokes.

Sep 17

Matt publishes a wanky blog post about companies that profit off open source without giving back. It targets a specific company, WP Engine.

Compare the Five For the Future pages from Automattic and WP Engine, two companies that are roughly the same size with revenue in the ballpark of half a billion. These pledges are just a proxy and aren’t perfectly accurate, but as I write this, Automattic has 3,786 hours per week (not even counting me!), and WP Engine has 47 hours. WP Engine has good people, some of whom are listed on that page, but the company is controlled by Silver Lake, a private equity firm with $102 billion in assets under management. Silver Lake doesn’t give a dang about your Open Source ideals. It just wants a return on capital. So it’s at this point that I ask everyone in the WordPress community to vote with your wallet. Who are you giving your money to? Someone who’s going to nourish the ecosystem, or someone who’s going to frack every bit of value out of it until it withers?

(It's worth noting here that Automattic is funded in part by BlackRock, who Wikipedia calls "the world's largest asset manager".)

Sep 20 (WCUS final day)

WP Engine puts out a blog post detailing their contributions to WordPress.

Matt devotes his keynote/closing speech to slamming WP Engine.

He also implies people inside WP Engine are sending him information.

For the people sending me stuff from inside companies, please do not do it on your work device. Use a personal phone, Signal with disappearing messages, etc. I have a bunch of journalists happy to connect you with as well. #wcus — Twitter I know private equity and investors can be brutal (read the book Barbarians at the Gate). Please let me know if any employee faces firing or retaliation for speaking up about their company's participation (or lack thereof) in WordPress. We'll make sure it's a big public deal and that you get support. — Tumblr

Matt also puts out an offer live at WordCamp US:

“If anyone of you gets in trouble for speaking up in favor of WordPress and/or open source, reach out to me. I’ll do my best to help you find a new job.” — source tweet, RTed by Matt

He also puts up a poll asking the community if WP Engine should be allowed back at WordCamps.

Sep 21

Matt writes a blog post on the WordPress.org blog (the official project blog!): WP Engine is not WordPress.

He opens this blog post by claiming his mom was confused and thought WP Engine was official.

The blog post goes on about how WP Engine disabled post revisions (which is a pretty normal thing to do when you need to free up some resources), therefore being not "real" WordPress. (As I said earlier, WordPress.com disables most features for Personal and Premium plans. Or whatever those plans are called, they've been renamed like 12 times in the last few years. But that's a different complaint.)

Sep 22: More bullshit on Twitter. Matt makes a Reddit post on r/Wordpress about WP Engine that promptly gets deleted. Writeups start to come out:

Search Engine Journal: WordPress Co-Founder Mullenweg Sparks Backlash

TechCrunch: Matt Mullenweg calls WP Engine a ‘cancer to WordPress’ and urges community to switch providers

Sep 23 onward

Okay, time zones mean I can't effectively sequence the rest of this.

Matt defends himself on Reddit, casually mentioning that WP Engine is now suing him.

Also here's a decent writeup from someone involved with the community that may be of interest.

WP Engine drops the full PDF of their cease and desist, which includes screenshots of Matt apparently threatening them via text.

Twitter link | Direct PDF link

This PDF includes some truly fucked texts where Matt appears to be trying to get WP Engine to pay him money unless they want him to tell his audience at WCUS that they're evil.

Matt, after saying he's been sued and can't talk about it, hosts a Twitter Space and talks about it for a couple hours.

He also continues to post on Reddit, Twitter, and on the Core contributor Slack.

Here's a comment where he says WP Engine could have avoided this by paying Automattic 8% of their revenue.

Another, 20 hours ago, where he says he's being downvoted by "trolls, probably WPE employees"

At some point, Matt updates the WordPress Foundation trademark policy. I am 90% sure this was him — it's not legalese and makes no fucking sense to single out WP Engine.

Old text: The abbreviation “WP” is not covered by the WordPress trademarks and you are free to use it in any way you see fit. New text: The abbreviation “WP” is not covered by the WordPress trademarks, but please don’t use it in a way that confuses people. For example, many people think WP Engine is “WordPress Engine” and officially associated with WordPress, which it’s not. They have never once even donated to the WordPress Foundation, despite making billions of revenue on top of WordPress.

Sep 25: Automattic puts up their own legal response.

anyway this fucking sucks

This is bigger than anything Matt's done before. I'm so worried about my friends who're still there. The internal ramifications have... been not great so far, including that Matt's naturally being extra gung-ho about "you're either for me or against me and if you're against me then don't bother working your two weeks".

Despite everything, I like WordPress. (If you dig into this, you'll see plenty of people commenting about blocks or Gutenberg or React other things they hate. Unlike many of the old FOSSheads, I actually also think Gutenberg/the block editor was a good idea, even if it was poorly implemented.)

I think that the original mission — to make it so anyone can spin up a website that's easy enough to use and blog with — is a good thing. I think, despite all the ways being part of FOSS communities since my early teens has led to all kinds of racist, homophobic and sexual harm for me and for many other people, that free and open-source software is important.

So many people were already burning out of the project. Matt has been doing this for so long that those with long memories can recite all the ways he's wrecked shit back a decade or more. Most of us are exhausted and need to make money to live. The world is worse than it ever was.

Social media sucks worse and worse, and this was a world in which people missed old webrings, old blogs, RSS readers, the world where you curated your own whimsical, unpaid corner of the Internet. I started actually actively using my own WordPress blog this year, and I've really enjoyed it.

And people don't want to deal with any of this.

The thing is, Matt's right about one thing: capital is ruining free open-source software. What he's wrong about is everything else: the idea that WordPress.com isn't enshittifying (or confusing) at a much higher rate than WP Engine, the idea that WP Engine or Silver Lake are the only big players in the field, the notion that he's part of the solution and not part of the problem.

But he's started a battle where there are no winners but the lawyers who get paid to duke it out, and all the volunteers who've survived this long in an ecosystem increasingly dominated by big money are giving up and leaving.

Anyway if you got this far, consider donating to someone on gazafunds.com. It'll take much less time than reading this did.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hello! Someone genuinely trying to understand and perhaps unlearn some reactionary tendencies. With the response to that anon about "not asking if you're a pro or anti", the response about "imagine if they put this much effort into protecting real kids" definitely got me thinking. So... Is an adult shipping children and finding that hot NEVER a red flag? Or is it case by case on seeing how that person handles the distinction between fiction and reality in other things? And bringing the issue of real kids into it, if a real kid who has been abused sees someone shipping kids and finds that a red flag in that person, that... No, no I juicy answered my own question on that one. Block them and cultivate your own experience.

hi there anon, and congrats on trying to unlearn some things! and great job catching yourself at the end there, that's exactly correct.

I will start by saying this right out of the gate: fundamentally, I do not really give a shit about what made up scenarios about fictional characters people are jorking it to in private. I am, first and foremost, interested in how they are interacting with actual, real people.

"but Makenzie are you saying people who look at sexually explicit images of real human kids should be allowed near children?" no I'm not. please note that I was specifically talking about people engaging with fictional characters who are, you know, not real and do not have feelings and therefore cannot actually be hurt, traumatized, abused, etc, in any way that actually matters. I want to be so clear about this: you can genuinely think whatever vile things you want about fictional characters. you can enjoy any problematic shit you want with little guys who don't actually exist.

like, here's an example I use a lot: I'm kind of a huge Batman fan. don't know if you could tell that or not, I'm pretty subtle about it. if you spend any time in the Batman mythos, you know that this is a story where you just kind of have to take for granted that our hero is a billionaire using his vast wealth to dispatch vigilante justice with military grade weaponry and a small army of child soldiers and cop friends to help him put people in prison. these are moral quandaries that are discussed and acknowledged within the story, but fundamentally the universe is always going to involve billionaire vigilantism and child soldiers and the so-called carceral justice system. that's just the price of admission if you're gonna read Batman.

and like. I spend a lot of time in that world. I love Batman, I love his child soldiers. he's my little blorbo or whatever. but like, at no point have I said "yeah, fuck it, preteens should be learning martial arts to fight domestic terrorists, actually. I think Elon Musk SHOULD be allowed to put on a fursuit and beat up criminals. cops need more funding." no amount of Batman comics can make me believe or act on any of those things because, you know, I'm a person with a brain and I know the difference between "thing that makes a good story" and "thing that should actually happen for real."

and the thing is that genuinely, honestly, if someone thought that it was a red flag that I like Batman, and that enjoying Batman comics was somehow a red flag indicating that I'm fine with violence being done against real, actual children? I would think that person was a nut, if I can be super real. like, I'm thinking about somebody trying to make the case that I shouldn't be allowed to hang out with my nephew because I enjoy the fictional character of Robin so clearly I'm going to kill my nephew's parents in front of him to try to get him into vigilante justice. or if someone attempted to bar me from teaching my 4th-6th grade sex ed classes on the grounds that I was obviously going to teach them to do karate to clowns instead of how their reproductive systems worked.

(although, lets be real, there are a lot of politicians who would MUCH rather let little kids cage fight each other than learn anything about safer sex.)

this doesn't just apply to morally bad things, either, btw. I also read a lot of romance novels, especially hetero romances. and the thing is, not one of those books has made me want to fall in love with a ruggedly handsome but condescending straight man. hell, none of them have made me want to fall in love with anybody, period. that's not really something I'm interested in for myself, it's just a fun and frequently funny dynamic to explore. I'm hardly the first queer person to point out that the allegations that queer media "turns kids gay/trans" is obviously bullshit since the vertible mountain of cishet media evidently failed to turn any of us straight/cis, you know?

my point being: no, I genuinely don't think it's often, if ever, reasonable to judge someone's actual, real life morals by how they interact with fiction.

I'm going to say something so vulnerable right now, because we're in a safe space here: since you asked me this very reasonable question, you evidently value my judgment and perspective at least a little bit. and I once read and thoroughly enjoyed a fic in which Dr. Horrible, from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, gets fucked by a sapient evil horse. and I don't think that makes me a morally reprehensible person, or a person who advocates for real human beings having real sex with real horses. I think it just makes me kind of a weirdo with a bullshit tolerance.

if you want to hear a MUCH more thorough take on this, complete with addressing the issue of shipping fictional children, I cannot recommend Princess Weekes' video essay enough:

[fuck-customers]

*Coworker and Me, setting up a booth at a place where we Don't Work so we can run an offsite event for the place where we Do Work*

Customers: Hi, we need [documents].

Me: Oh, sorry, you'll have to ask the folks at the register. We don't actually work here.

Customer: We're going on vacation and leave tomorrow. We need these papers.

Me: That sounds nice. The people at the register can help you get your papers.

Customer: We need them by today.

Me: I understand, but we don't work here, we can't help you.

Customer: *suddenly kind of aggressive* I don't think you do understand. We need to get our hands on these [documents].

Coworker, who has been at this job way too long and lost all her fucks eons ago*: My guy, I appreciate that [documents] are so important to you that you waited until the last minute to get it all sorted out but even if they were the only thing keeping your lungs from melting, it doesn't change the fact that we don't work here so we don't have access to your papers or the system to get them. You're gonna have to ask someone who DOES work here and you'll most easily find those people at the register up front.

Customer: You just don't care and don't want to help.

Coworker: Correct. Go ask at the register.

The customers still didn't grasp it so she escorted them over to the front and left them in the hands of the actual employees. The manager of the location, who we vibe with pretty well, came over to 'fire' us.

Coworker: Aww man, you mean we don't work here still???

Manager: Yeah, 'fraid not.

The same customers came back a while later to the booth to ask where something in the store was, and when we gave them the general location, they scowled at us and said "I knew you were lazy!"

THEN WHY ASK US FOR HELP *AGAIN*

Posted by admin Rodney

[cerise-on-top]

König as a Father to a Son

I saw people characterizing König as someone mean and cruel again. Do people honestly think he would only care about his daughter and not his son? Some people make me really sick. Anyway, here's König as a father to a son, who he loves and adores and would fight the world for because he's a good father <3

I can see him being close to tears the first time he holds you. It doesn’t matter to him whether you’re related by blood or if you’ve been adopted, you’re just so small and helpless. You’re so tiny, he could easily crush you and just kill you. He’s well aware that he shouldn’t be thinking anything like this about you, but he can’t help it, you’re just so incredibly precious to him. He knows that you’ll grow up into a fine young man, and he’ll do whatever he can to ensure that you’ll be happy in your life. Although his partner would want to hold you as well, I feel as though he’d have such a hard time letting go of you, his paternal instincts kicking into overdrive. He’d smile so much, putting his forehead against yours and just cooing at you. You’d make him the happiest man in the world and he wants to be a good father for you.

However, he wouldn’t be all that present in your life. He’s a good and competent soldier, who works at a PMC, so he will be sent on many missions. However, the thought of making it back home, just to see you grow up, keeps him going. Even if he’s been shot, he’ll think about you, about how bad he wants to see you, about how he wants to be present in your life, and he’ll carry on. Even when he should have died, his determination kept him going. He’ll become an even more efficient soldier on the battlefield once he’s had you. Nothing and no one can keep you from him.

When he is present? He’ll try to spend as much time with you as possible, trying to make up for the lost time. He’ll go take walks with you, he’ll cuddle you in bed as you’re both drifting off to sleep, he’ll buy you whatever you want. He has the monetary means to do so, so why wouldn’t he spoil you? Lots of hugs from your father, he’s really just trying to bond with you. Yes, many people might see him as a monster, but he can be truly kind hearted with the people he cares about. He’ll play with you, he’ll let you sleep with him in his bed, hell, he’ll even let you use him as a tree to climb whenever you so please. He’s really not so bad as a father. If you really want to, he’ll even play fight with you, always losing and pretending to be hurt to show you just how strong you are.

Even as you grow older, he’ll try to be with you as often as he can. Always calling you, sending you text messages and such. He just really wants to be part of your development. And if anyone ever gives you trouble at school? Well, normally he’s not very confrontational outside of his work, but when it’s about you he would not hesitate to demolish another child either. He will threaten those children until they start crying and leave you alone. Even if you might not want him to, he will find out who those little brats are and make them leave you alone. He remembers how horrible it is to be bullied at school and the last thing he wants is for you to go through the same thing. He will not tolerate you feeling bad about something that you can’t control or that isn’t your fault. Papa König always has your back.

That being said, he’s probably not as strict as many would think. Sure, he’s a military man who has killed more people than most of us ever even got to know, but he does want you to live your life too. Sure, he’ll teach you how to defend yourself. It’s one way of him bonding with you as well. You’ll become a strong young man, but you better not use your fighting skills for evil. You should be protecting the weak with them. If he ever finds out about you abusing your fighting skills he will get genuinely mad at you and scold you. But I think in that case it should be justified. No, he’ll have you grow into a fine young man, who will protect those who can’t protect themselves. You’ll be a kind and compassionate man under his care. Even so, you’re not forbidden from going out with your friends to drink here and there. He did too when he was younger, his parents never minded. Drinking is a huge part of Austrian culture, so he’ll even buy the booze for you and your friends. Nothing too strong just yet, but you can count on him. Will also go grab some fast food for you and your friends as well. All in moderation, though. He doesn’t want you to drink too much either. But he would sit down with you from time to time just to drink a beer or two with you.

He’ll also try to give you the feeling that you could always come to him if you ever need support. He’s a lot older than you, he has a lot more experience under his belt than you do, so he will always do what he can to help you out. Especially if you have a mental illness. He has social anxiety, so it’s not like he doesn’t get it. Doesn’t matter if you have a personality disorder, schizophrenia, or something else. He’ll do his research and try to help you however he can. He won’t judge you for taking medication and he won’t judge you for needing help either. Just because you’re a boy doesn’t mean you should have to bottle everything up until you reach your breaking point. If you ever need help, you can always come to him. Regardless of whether you want to vent, want some advice, or just want to cry into his shoulder. His parents always did the same for him, so naturally he’ll do the same for you too. He won’t judge you, he won’t yell at you, and he won’t scold you. He won’t ever neglect you just for feeling the way you do. Quite the opposite, he’s glad when you do come to him, it makes him feel as though you trust him and that he didn’t fail as a father. You’re his son, so of course he’s going to do whatever he can to make sure you can smile and be happy.

König doesn’t mind you being queer either. Why would he? He’s not straight himself either, so he’s one of the last people to judge you about it. Will give you a pat on the back and thank you for being honest with him and trusting him enough with this kind of information. If you want to go to Pride, he’ll join you. While I don’t think he’ll be happy per se to be surrounded by this many people, he’ll do it for you so you can celebrate who you are.

Another big thing for him would be that he’d teach you German. Both High German and his dialect. It’s very important to him. I think he would get a little more strict with you if you were to only speak High German. His dialect is a big part of his culture, which is slowly dying out and being replaced with High German, which is a huge shame to him. He wants you to speak his dialect and will correct you if you speak too much High German. Sure, he’ll always know more words in his dialect than you since he’s of a different generation, but you will be speaking his dialect for the most part. This is only if you’ve been adopted, though. If you’re related by blood then he’ll naturally teach you his dialect.

Overall he’s a pretty loving father. He’d fight just about anyone for you and make sure you’re doing well, no matter what. He’s just happy to have a son like you, he loves you so much.

[youryanderedaddy]

Oleander

Summary: Nine months ago you killed a man. Now you're sharing a drink with his brother. Life works in mysterious ways. tw: female reader, implied murder, captivity, dub - con, hate fucking, degradation, cruel reader

Sometimes you wonder if you’re a good person. It’s nice, almost, to lose yourself in meaningless philosophical battles in your own mind - it reminds you of high school, of balding teachers making you read Kant and Plato, raving on and on about dead men that will never come back to agree or disagree with the countless pages they made you write about them. It’s easier now, though - easy to lose yourself in semantics, to water down hundred years of morals and ethics into a simple question. Am I, the way I am, the way I’ve always been, good? 

These thoughts always come back when the liquor hits your system. You can’t believe Devan let you drink with him tonight. He must be getting lonely, you realize. Your hands are too shaky and slippery to hold the glass, and you end up spilling half of it over your chest anyways. Your shirt soaks the liquor quickly, and the sharp smell of sanitizer makes you feel as if you’re running through a cold hospital corridor. If you squint, you can almost imagine the needle poking at your vein to draw fresh blood. 

Devan watches you with odd fascination - as if you’re a child learning how to walk, and takes a sip straight off the bottle. Were you any less drunk, you’d be disgusted, yet now all you think about is how he’s drinking more and more of the bitter medicine, leaving less for you. And you need it. God knows you need it.

“Messy, murderous slut.” He mumbles under his breath, reaching out to you with a disoriented shake of his hand. “You ruined my fucking life, you know?” He manages to take a hold of your elbow. You flinch impulsively but his hold, in all its drunken angst, is unrelenting.

“You ruined your own life.” You intend your answer to be playful, but it comes out venomous. Maybe you both need some sleep - too bad the bottle is still half full. You pour yourself some more. “You’re 27 with no education, job or any support network. Even your parents don’t call you anymore, because, well… what even are you without him?” You let yourself get closer to the man - so close you can see his eyes illuminate in fear. His skin is warm like concrete melting under the sun. Tonight you are cruel. Tonight you are free - even as the tears fall down your freezing cheeks. “Admit it.” You inhale so quietly you barely feel your lungs. “You fucking love it.”

Even as his hand connects to your cheek in an audible slap, you can’t help running your mouth off. You are absolutely intoxicated - and the sting feels like a kiss to your lonely, untouched face. How long has it been since someone held you?

“You fucking love that your brother died, deep down. I mean, it’s the perfect excuse, isn’t it? You finally have a reason to be this fucking miserable.” Your smirk, filling up with glee - just like a child torturing a helpless ladybug on the ground, it’s so wrong yet feels so right. ”Besides being a lousy loser, of course.”

“How fucking dare you!” Devin flips you over with ease, throwing you on the ground. There is a raw, animalistic sadness in his big black orbs bleeding into his rage, and it makes it impossible to be scared. Even as his thick fist wraps itself around your throat, it’s hard not to burst into laughter. All the good hazy feelings take over logic and now the bleak feels like a big joke of nature. “Joe was… He… He was…” Everything, he tries to say, but his voice breaks into a pained howl and his breathing shallows before the word can roll off his colorless tongue. For a passing moment everything stills.

“It’s all your fault.” Your captor hisses weakly, his hand trembling around your warm inviting flesh. “I should have killed you that first day… that first night.” His fingers dance around your throat, carefully avoiding your jugular. “It would have been so easy. You do have a beautiful neck.” His voice lowers. “It wouldn’t be hard to–” He squeezes again - tight, tighter, and you see stars. “Maybe then I’ll finally be at peace.” He’s staring at you, intently, but it’s himself he’s talking to. 

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. You can feel a certain fullness in your sides and a dull pain tugging at your collarbone from suffocation - but your mind can’t wrap itself around a single coherent thought other than to hurt him. It’s like the more you hurt him, the more it hurts inside you. “You can’t kill me.” There is no sass in your tone, no mischief - just plain cold acceptance.

Devin stops in his tracks to stare you down as if you’ve lost your goddamn mind. Then he laughs. He laughs so much his hand slips off your throat and you can finally breathe again.

“And what makes you so sure?” He finally collects himself enough to ask, leaning towards you. If anyone were to see you now, they would think you’re two lovers about to elope. “Because…” You avert your face away from his watchful eyes - there’s something about them, a wild flame that makes you sober up quicker than you’d like. “I’m the only person you hate more than yourself. If you kill me, the game is over.” You give him a sad smile. “And you’re all alone again.”

The man grabs your chin, forcing your lips to pucker up like a doll’s. “Like I need a fucked up bitch to keep me company.” He says, yet he keeps moving your head up and down as if he’s inspecting you for damage. As if he cares if you’re bruised, as if his fingers want to feel you for just a second longer. “Then let me go.” You bite back, and you watch his face go dark like a night sky. “No.” The boy - man shrieks, holding onto your arm for dear life. It hurts… but it’s also warm and tight - like an embrace, but not quite. “You deserve to suffer.” He quickly adds, pulling you closer to him. “Then torture me.” You add more fuel. “Do something. Anything.” You sink your teeth into his knees. “For once in your shitty miserable life do so–”

He kisses you. 

You don’t know how to describe the kiss. It’s neither passionate, nor aggressive. It’s desperate, yet it lacks strength. It’s a rushed thing. It’s a memory reminiscent of summer - in a quiet village, after an atom bomb. His lips are the flowers that eventually bloom before they’re stomped by soldier boots. You’re the half - lit match that turns it all to ashes. Your bodies are meant for destruction, and that’s why they fit together perfectly. 

“Let me have you.” He almost pleads once you separate, breathless, on the brink of insanity - as if he isn’t already there. His hands are on both sides of your waist, squeezing so hard it hurts, unstable fingers ready to grab and grope at any shape malleable enough. 

“No.” You wince, but your eyes remain cold and challenging. “Fuck you.” Devin replies, roughly spreading your thighs apart. “Fuck you.” He repeats as he rips into your throat, dragging his teeth against your sweet spot, making you really feel the sharp points tearing into your soft vulnerable skin. The thought of leaving his mark on you makes his stomach turn - and it terrifies him. You try not to look down, but you hear his belt hit the ground and soon his pants follow suit - and then you sense it right against your entrance. Sticky slick whiteness coats your white panties as it drips from the purpling tip so full it might burst by the friction alone.

His hard length rubs along your wet slit and with clenched teeth you anticipate the burn of the stretch, the way he’ll rip your underwear from you, your last protective shield - but it never comes. Yet you see it move in and out, in and out of you rhythmically. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, his rasp groans into your ear, his hands moving your torso back and forth like a carousel. You finally look down. 

He’s fucking your thighs - through your panties, no less. 

“Hold your legs together.” The man barks at you, but his voice is so needy you can’t help giggling even as he manhandles you around like a ragdoll. “T-tighter.” You squeeze your thighs snuggly against his cock - and you hope it hurts him more than it hurts you. You throw your head back, leaning on his shoulder as you jeer gutturally, letting it all out in systematic bursts of laughter that sound more like black cigarette coughs. Or puffs. “God, you’re so pathetic.” You lazily stroke his shaft as it peeks down your stomach, oozing with pre - cum. “I bet your brother would have fucked me like a real man.”

He moves your head to the side with a brute slap, kissing you sloppily anywhere but your mouth - but it still does the trick of shutting you up. “Too bad he’s dead.” He leaves a trail of wet pecks down your throat. Your stomach is sticky. You feel disgusting. “Guess you’re mine now.”

You roll your eyes.

“Dream on.”

[ahmed-gaza27]

⚠️URGENT: This is my third account after Tumblr deleted my first account and imposed restrictions on my second account.

Ahmed and Aya's wedding will not take place due to the war 💔😔💍

I am Ahmed, 27 years old, an architect from Gaza, and this is my story:

I finished my university studies in 2018, and then moved between several engineering offices, working on a "job for experience" system, meaning without a salary. Unemployment was sweeping the Gaza Strip at that moment, and I lost hope of working in my field, so I went to work as a salesman in a grocery store. I continued working like this for several years, and I was saving money so that I could get married and build a family full of love and happiness.

In 6th August 2023, after I had chosen my life partner Aya, we got engaged💍💚. We pledged on the Qur'an of the heart to nurture the flower of love between us, so we drew suns and moons for our days, and we promised to stay together until death.

This picture is from the day of my engagement to Aya 💍😔

I gathered shekels upon shekels, I stuck stones next to stones, and raised the thresholds, keys of music that exuded melody, I extended water to it from the springs of the heart, and I extended the connections of electricity and light, I furnished it until the house that would contain us with its roses and immerse us in its warmth began to come together, the house that would be the safety of our family in the future grows from the depths of the impossible and emerges from the carvings of suffering and the rock of misery.

And here is the ship of life settling and docking on what we loved and hoped for. I love, study, and work. We choose the paint colors and sofa fabrics. We set our wedding day as February 4, 2024, which is my birthday. We choose our wedding hall, and our days pass in peace and tranquility.

These photos are from the stages of preparing my apartment in September 2023 👇👇

We did not know that fate was hiding its resurrection behind our doors and under our pillows, and that between the blink of an eye and the closing of it, the disaster would occur, the world would be turned upside down, and destruction would cover the face of the universe. We had left our home on the first day of the war and departed without knowing that it was the last time we would see our home before it turned to dust.

On the morning of 12th October 2023 , the crows of the sky, the occupation aircraft of the F-16 type, flew to throw the fires of their hatred with more than one war missile at our five-story house on both sides, after which the house turned into crumbs of rubble, wiping out all the memories of childhood and the details of life and the years we spent. They bombed a house that carries within it all kinds of joy and stories of success and challenges of building stone upon stone.

Now, I displaced in Deir al-Balah. I live in a tent inside an UNRWA school located on the beach of Deir al-Balah.😔💔

I created this campaign in February 2024 to collect some money so that I can provide detergents,  water and food for my family, and I can mebuild my life, marry Aya, build a new home with a happy couple, and hold a wedding party other than the one we cancelled.

In the name of humanity and universal brotherhood, I hope you will help me get out of the depths of despair and save my future, which is almost lost if it were not for my hope in you to extend a helping hand to everyone who calls for your help, so that their hopes may be revived that goodness in the world will not be cut off, no matter how thick the clouds of evil are.

Please donate if you can! Support, participate strongly, the first goal reach to 5000€🔜

NOTICE 📢:This is my third account after my first account was closed by Tumblr and my first account has been verified by @90-ghost here.

@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako @aristotels @komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts @watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @determinate-negation @deepspaceboytoy @paper-mario-wiki @kibumkim @neechees @socalchops @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @swagvo1d @himejoshikaeya @rooh-tawaka-blog @deathlonging @briarhips @mahoushojoe @sar-soor @mazzikah @90-ghost @bixlasagna @anetteva @mangocheese @sayruq @timetravellingkitty @bixlasagna

[bithablu]

I'm having a difficult time with certain people I know IRL who say that both political parties are the same and it's not worth voting. The Palestinian genocide is usually their main talking point about how both parties suck and how they can't vote for anyone who wouldn't demand an immediate cease fire.

Ok. Cool. Name me one president who didn't have to deal with some kind of genocide. Now show me the one that dealt with it perfectly. No flaws. Quickly. Oh? None? Because politicians are deeply flawed people navigating an overly complicated system of checks and balances that are in place to prevent fascism and dictatorships? Huh.

Palestinians need humanitarian aid, support, political allies, and political pressure on Israel. Which candidate do you think would be more likely to provide ANY of that? The guy who moved the American embassy to Jerusalem, tacitly insinuating that Jerusalem was Israel's capital? Or the chick who called for a cease fire and has a history of supporting humanitarian aid programs?

Is she perfect? Fuck no. Is she good enough? Not on this topic. But which one of them is more like to adjust their policies?

Speaking of adjusting policies, have you heard the story of how Walz went from being beloved by the NRA to get constant F ratings from them? His daughter talked to him about how he was the only person she knew who had the power to prevent school shootings. So she talked and he listened. He prioritized life over lobbyists. Action instead of just thoughts and prayers.

Can you see JD Vance doing that? I can't. He's too busy insulting legal immigrants and letting women bleed out from miscarriages because doctors have to wait 'until the mother's life is in danger' to perform D&Cs. You know, that procedure to 'clean out' a woman after a miscarriage. It's technically an abortion and some doctors would rather wait until a woman is in septic shock than risk a jail sentence for obeying their Hippocratic oath. But Vance adjusting his stance on abortion laws to save lives is less important than making a stand against... I dunno, anti-evangelical behavior 🤷🏼‍♀️

Look, I know it's disheartening. It's fucking heart wrenching just to hear about what's happening in Gaza. But throwing your vote away does no one any good. If you want to make a difference, being indifferent with your vote is not the way to go.

Have you tried talking to your local/state politicians? Have you joined any organizations? Donated? What have you done?

For those of you who say that I'm afraid of the bad orange man, you know what- yeah. I'm afraid of what he could do. My daughter is already going to grow up with less rights than I had. Gods help her if she'd move to a different state; in some of the more restrictive states a woman has more bodily autonomy as a corpse than she does if she's pregnant.

Harris/Walz isn't the best choice but they are the better choice. Pro-union, pro-children, pro-education, pro-choice, pro-GBLTQ+, pro-environment.

If you're waiting for the perfect candidate, you're going to be waiting for a while.

[enbysiriusblack]

"Minnie", Sirius nodded as he walked into her office, dropping grumpily into the chair and leaving a muddy stain behind him.

Mcgonagall gave him a disapproving look, glaring at the mud that covered Sirius' clothing, hair, and face.

"I didn't start it", he spoke just as she began to open her mouth.

"Yet you continued it?"

He shrugged, leaning back on the chair and glancing out the window.

"Sirius, will you please show some respect and look at me when I am talking?"

He turned back to her, clearly bored.

"I do not condone fighting."

"It wasn't a fight-"

"Miss Evans has assured me that it was."

Sirius leaned even further back in his chair, "Ugh, she's such a snitch. You shouldn't listen to her, she's buddies with Snivellus."

"But you were fighting Mulciber? Is Miss Evans friends with him?"

"Well, no-"

"Hm", McGonagall interrupted him, "So she is not a biased witness, then?"

Sirius groaned, "Detention, then?"

"No."

Sirius immediately lightened up, sitting upright in the chair and grinning at McGonagall, "I'm free to go?"

Mcgonagall sighed, opening a desk drawer and grabbing a tin.

"Have a biscuit."

Sirius' grin faded, but he still grabbed a biscuit, biting into it and leaning back in the chair again.

"You're a talented student, Sirius."

"Yeah, so?"

"You are aware of our tutoring system, yes?"

Sirius frowned, "I don't need tutoring, Minnie."

"Professor", she corrected him, "And that is not what I was suggesting. Our tutors are usually volunteers, however this year we didn't get enough people offering to help."

Sirius paled, "No."

Mcgonagall smiled slightly, "Detention hasn't seemed to deter your behaviour whatsoever."

"No, Professor!"

"And since you are one of the top students in your year, and I have seen you explain material very well to your friend, Mr Pettigrew."

"Please, no. Just give me detention."

"My mind is made up, Sirius", McGonagall handed him a folder, "This has a list of your tutees you will be taking on as well as a timetable of your free periods that you will spend helping them. I have also included notes of what they are studying in class at the moment."

Sirius begrudgingly took the folder, "What if I'm terrible at this?"

"You won't be."

"Please, don't make me do this, Professor. I'd rather scrub cauldrons or even help out Finch."

"You're free to go now", McGonagall smiled, nodding to the door."

Sirius sighed, walking out the office, dejected.

He headed back to the common room, folder uncomfortably tucked under his arm, and found James by the fireplace, playing chess with Remus.

Sirius squeezed into James' armchair.

"Avoid getting in trouble or Minnie's gonna make you a tutor too."

James laughed, turning to Sirius in shock, "You're a tutor?"

"Yeah", he sighed, throwing the folder on a nearby table.

"You'll be great at it", Remus piped up, staring at the chessboard.

"I'll teach them to become illegal animagi or something."

James grinned, "Exactly, Remus is right! It'd be very impressive if you got a bunch of failing kids doing one of the hardest forms of transfiguration."

Sirius leaned his head on James shoulder, leaving mud on his shirt, "Maybe I'll just teach them how to roll a joint."

[writingoddess1125]

Deadpool Headcanon

Dad!Deadpool and GN Reader

Fluffy Weirdness

Kinda just came to me so enjoy? 🤷🏼

Masterlist <<

Kofi <<

• Deadpool, finds out that he has a teenage kid, (Y/N) by total accident.

• A relative of a old fling of his telling him they had his kid before disappearing themselves.

• His reaction is a delightful mix of shock, denial, and inappropriate jokes.

"Wait, I'm someone's dad? Damn- They must be fucked up!"

• But underneath all the sarcasm and one-liners, the idea begins to settle into his brain.

• A tinge of fear eats at his brain and itches under his skin..

• When Wade first digs into (Y/N)’s background—using his "very legal" skills—it’s mostly to make sure they’re not a mini supervillain in training.

• But what he finds instead knocks the wind out of him: (Y/N) has been in and out of the foster system for years.

• That hits him harder than he'd like to admit- making him pace a bit back and forth in thought.

• At first, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

• His own past was screwed up, but seeing his kid going through the same kind of instability?

• It messes with him. Wade cracks a joke to numb the ache.

“Of course, my kid’s in the system… couldn’t have inherited my charm or good looks, huh?”

• Deadpool starts paying more attention, following (Y/N) closely.

• He watches them move from one foster home to another, each one more temporary than the last.

• Sometimes (Y/N) would get picked up by a social worker right after school, with nothing more than a worn-out backpack slung over their shoulder.

• Wade stays out of sight, gripping his weapons tighter than he should, resisting the urge to intervene... for now.

• Seeing (Y/N) trying to stay strong, dealing with bullies, shifting from home to home, makes something snap inside Wade.

• He realizes he’s angry, really angry. No kid, especially not ***his kid*** , should have to feel so lost and abandoned.

• He remembers what it was like to feel that way, and no amount of sex, drugs, or killing can take the edge off that pain.

• Wade starts leaving more than just quirky gifts. In (Y/N)’s locker, there’s a new hoodie with a note, “To make you feel less invisible. You’re worth more than these idiots know. ~ D.”

• Another time, a stuffed unicorn with a note, "Even the toughest need a cuddle buddy." One day, Wade overhears (Y/N) talking to a friend about how they’ll probably get moved again soon

"Yeah, these fosters are.. assholes to put it mildly" (Y/N) jest to one of the few friends they have. Not knowing the hoodie that had mysteriously appeared had a wire hidden in it.

• That night, a hefty envelope shows up in their locker, stuffed with cash and a note that says, “You ever need a place to crash? You’ve got options. Let me know when you’re ready. P.S. This is totally not a bribe. ~D”

"I'm probably gonna get moved again-"

• Deadpool even starts anonymously dropping hints to social workers that (Y/N) should stay in one stable placement, using his "subtle" methods to make sure they’re treated better. He also might’ve scared a foster parent or two into straightening up.

• It doesn't take long for (Y/N) to get to notice all the changes- The social workers treating them better, and now getting to stay with an actually nice family.

• He watches (Y/N) cope with it all, still from a distance hkwever, but now more protective than ever. He knows he can’t change the past, but he can sure as hell make sure (Y/N) doesn’t feel abandoned anymore.

Mini Shot

(Y/N) sat on the roof of the foster home, the cool breeze brushing against their face as they stared out into the dimly lit neighborhood wrapping their read hoodie tighter around themselves. As they sat something caught their eye—a shadowy figure across the way from them perfectly out of view, watching them from a distance. Their heart skipped a beat at first in fear, However after a moment a wash of a unknown familiarity seemed to hit.

Before they could stop themselves, (Y/N) called out softly, "Thank you."

The figure stepped into the light just enough for (Y/N) to catch a glimpse of their hand as they gave them a casual thumbs up.

Without a word, he turned and walked away, vanishing into the night as (Y/N) watched. A sense of pride in Wade's step as he headed off. He'd done it—he'd helped his kid in some way.

And that was enough..

For now

[linos-luna]

Cameras 🔪

Yandere!Han x Reader

Warnings: YANDERE, violence, toxic behavior, manipulation, spying, 18+

———————————————— •

You sit at your desk, staring down at the open notebook, your fingers tracing its edges, but your mind is somewhere else. The house is quiet, a little too quiet, and that familiar, uneasy feeling creeps over you again. Lately, it’s like someone’s been watching you, even when you’re sure you’re alone.

You try to shake it off, just like you’ve done every other time, telling yourself it’s nothing. But deep down, you know it’s not just paranoia. The little things have been adding up. Your stuff is always out of place, your jewelry box lid half open, a photo frame slightly crooked. And Han… well, you had mentioned it to him once, but he brushed it off.

"You're stressed, Y/N," he had said with that charming smile. "You need to relax."

That smile you love. Now it just feels off.

Your eyes drift to your bedside lamp. Something flashes, just for a second, but you see it. You sit up, heart skipping a beat as you reach for the lamp. Unscrewing the lampshade, you freeze when you see it. A tiny, blinking red light. A camera.

What the hell??

Your pulse quickens as you stare at the small device in your hand. Why is there a camera here? Who put it here?

But you already know. You just don’t want to believe it.

Your breath comes in short gasps as you tear through your room. Behind the framed pictures, inside the air vents, even inside your stuffed bear. More cameras. Everywhere.

You feel sick. How long has this been happening? How much has Han seen?

Without thinking, you grab your phone and dial Han. The anger in your voice barely masks the fear. “Han, we need to talk. Now.”

It doesn’t take him long to show up. His face is full of concern—or is it something darker? You can’t tell anymore.

“What’s going on?” he asks, stepping inside like nothing’s wrong. Like he hasn’t been invading every second of your life.

You hold up the camera, your hand trembling. “Why are there cameras in my room?”

For a split second, something flickers in his eyes. And then, just like that, his mask drops. The concern fades, and what’s left makes your stomach twist.

“I did it to protect you,” he says softly, stepping closer. “You don’t understand. I need to know you’re safe.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. You want to scream, to cry, but all that comes out is cold, hard disbelief. "This isn’t protection, Han. This is control."

His eyes darken, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You don’t get to walk away from me."

Your body tenses as he steps closer, too close. His hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist before you can react. Pain surges through your arm as his grip tightens.

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he growls, his breath hot against your face. “No one else will take care of you like I do. You don’t get to leave me.”

A wave of panic crashes over you, but underneath it, anger is building. You twist your wrist, trying to pull free, but his grip only tightens. The pressure makes your vision blur with tears.

“No, Han…” Your voice trembling with fury. “Y-you’re sick!”

Without thinking, you drive your knee up into his stomach, hard.

He lets out a grunt, doubling over just enough for you to yank your arm free. You stumble back, heart pounding, adrenaline flooding your system. But then Han straightens, his face twisting with rage.

Before you can react, his hand swings out, slapping you across the cheek. Pain stinging in your face, knocking you off balance. You crash into the dresser, books and other nicknacks scattering to the floor. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you whimpered a bit in pain.

He’s standing over you now, breathing heavily, his fists clenched, but then something shifts in his expression. His eyes soften, a flicker of regret passing over his face as he takes in your terrified look.

“Baby, I’m sorry!” Han pleads, his voice breaking. “Don’t cry, please! I-I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

The room spins as you force yourself up, your legs trembling beneath you. Your hand brushes against the dresser, and you grab the nearest thing, a heavy lamp. Without a second thought, you throw it at him.

It misses, crashing into the wall behind him, but Han still flinches, staggering back as he dodges. His eyes widen, and for a moment, you see hurt flicker there.

“Y/N? W-why are you trying to hurt me?” His voice trembles, and you pause, your heart pounding in your chest.

“You’re the one getting violent!” you shout, the words tearing from your throat.

For a split second, he looks like he’s about to cry, and something inside you twists painfully. He just stands there, staring at you with those sad, broken eyes, making your heart ache.

He’s manipulating you. You know it, you *know* it, but that pang of guilt creeps in anyway. You have to shake it off.

“Stop it, Han. It’s not working. Not this time.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the softness drains from his face. The mask drops, revealing the cold, eerie calm underneath.

“Y/N…” he says, his voice unnervingly steady. “You know I love you. Everything I do is because I love you.” He takes a step closer, his eyes darkening. “And I’ll do anything for you.”

Han’s words hang in the air, thick and suffocating. His eerie calm sends a chill down your spine, but your legs won’t move. His eyes bore into yours, dark and unwavering, and you realize with a sickening jolt that there’s no reasoning with him. He’s beyond that now.

You back up slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Han… stay away from me.”

But he doesn’t listen. Instead, he takes another step toward you, his voice lowering into something soft, almost tender. “I’m the only one who can protect you, Y/N. Don’t you see? No one else will love you the way I do.”

You feel the wall press against your back, cold and unyielding. There’s nowhere else to go.

“Please, Han,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Don’t do this.”

For a moment, his face softens again, but you know it’s a lie, just like before. He closes the distance between you in two long strides, grabbing your arms and pinning you against the wall. His grip is bruising, his breath hot and uneven as he leans in, his eyes glinting with something dangerous.

“Why can’t you just be mine?” he whispers harshly, his fingers digging into your skin. “Why do you have to make this so hard?”

Panic surges through you, but your body feels frozen. You struggle against his hold, but he’s too strong. His hands move to your throat, not tightening, but just enough to make you realize how helpless you are in that moment.

Your vision blurs with tears as you gasp for air, your body trembling under his hold. This is it, you think. It’s the end. You close your eyes in defeat, bracing for the inevitable as his hands apply light pressure to your throat.

But then, just as quickly as it started, the pressure eases. You blink in confusion, feeling his grip loosen. When you open your eyes, Han’s expression has changed… his face etched with guilt, sadness pooling in his eyes.

“Baby…” he whispers softly, his hands still hovering at your throat, but no longer squeezing.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him look down at his own hands, as if seeing them for the first time. Tears start to roll down his cheeks, silent and slow, before he suddenly pulls you into a tight embrace.

“I-I’m sorry…” he sobs, his voice breaking.

His arms wrap around you, almost crushing you against him, and the sudden shift feels jarring. You can hear him weeping, his breath catching between sobs. The warmth of his body, the way he clings to you, it's so different from the rage that had consumed him moments ago.

You stand frozen, your body still shaking, unsure of what to do. Was this another trick? Another way to manipulate you, to pull you back into his control? Or… was he actually genuine this time?

It was hard to tell, and that terrified you the most...

[caitlynskitten]

Okay so not a polyshade idea but it does involve the other girls.

I love the idea that Enid is an exhibitionist freak. She loves fucking Wednesday in front of others. She feels no shame in dicking down her girlfriend when others are around. Maybe it’s an alpha thing, maybe Wednesday has had too much on an influence on her. Either way, Enid feels no shame if someone sees her fucking her girlfriend.

The first time it happened, it was purely by accident. Enid was on top of Wednesday, fucking her face down ass up when Yoko barged into their room without knocking. She only needed some nail polish. Yoko wasn’t expecting to see Enid buck ass naked, railing Wednesday from behind and she’s just all like ‘I… uh, I only came to get my nail polish. I left it here the other night.’

Both Wednesday and Yoko expect Enid to stop, squeal and cover them both up, but instead, she just continues to fuck Wednesday. In fact, she starts thrusting harder, all the while telling Yoko where her nail polish is. Wednesday doesn’t know why she finds the fact that Yoko is seeing her so vulnerable so hot, but as Yoko awkwardly tries to get her nail polish, Wednesday starts throwing it back as she feels her orgasm approaching.

After that, it seems to become a repeating occurrence. When they all went to a party off campus, Divina walked in on Enid fucking Wednesday’s mouth against the wall upstairs when she was going to the toilet. As the poor siren is trying to do her business, she’s forced to hear the sounds of Enid cumming on Wednesday’s face. When she leaves the bathroom, Yoko tells her Enid and Wednesday had to head back for some reason.

Bianca finds Enid railing Wednesday in the changing room showers after fencing class. She’s pretty sure she’ll never get the sounds of Wednesday begging for Enid’s cum out of her head.

After all these events, the girls try to come up with a warning system so they can avoid walking in on the two. It, however, never seems to work. They always find them in the oddest of places. Weathervane toilets, Jericho woods.

And, much to Yoko’s horror, she’ll never forget the time she returned to her dorm to join Divina and Enid for their girls night to find Divina absent and Enid pounding Wednesday on her bed.

Wait that’s honestly so funny 😭😭😭😭 poor girls they cannot catch a break! But it seems like Enid is doing this just to fuck with them now. This is Enid’s way of getting back at them when they teased her for being too vanilla to which Enid takes control of that and proves them wrong.

Unrelated, I think Enid would facefuck Wednesday so hard and rough that when she cums she just hold’s Wednesday’s head and cums deep in her throat. Wednesday can feel Enid’s dick pulsating in her motion and can feel her ejaculating. Enid just looks at her and says “Come on, Wends. Just a few more.” The raven, without pulling Enid’s cock out of her mouth, nods in excitement and Enid goes back to face fucking her.

[awriternamedart]

a collection of my middle aged man yaoi sampard headcanons -

Sampo has poliosis, a condition that can cause premature greying in areas on the scalp.

Gepard has lots of facial and body hair but it grows slowly because of their cold enviroment. His beard is a stopwatch for how long hes been on the frontlines that time around as he only gets to shave when hes at his home/stationed in the city.

Sampo has a few beauty marks n moles ! mostly on his back and shoulders.

Gepard has freckles! All the Landaus do!

Once Gepard scared the ever living shit out of Sampo because the Landaus have reflective eyes. So Sampo just saw two blue dots in his bedroom once and nearly fell out the window he climbed in through.

Gepard has piercings! Two simple lobe piercings, he only wears them when hes on break. (so like, never.) Serval pierced them for him when they were teenagers so its a little botched but he does his best to take care of them because their a fond memory of his sister. (He also owns a pair of studs for each of his sisters - a snowflake set for Lynx, and a music note set for Serval. Otherwise, simple black studs.)

Sampo has sideburns!! He tends to keep them trimmed well , since his appearence is a huge part of the show. Hes incredibly meticulous down to the last detail in order to sell it, and can spend up to two hours every morning making sure hes ready for the stage .

Gepard is an amputee. I need to update my arm lore doc but basic gist - his gauntlet is a prosthetic used to trap Fragmentum in his arm nub and uses that Fragmentum as a powersource for the Geomarrow to bounce off of and create the ice and mist he uses in battle. He still deals with phantom pain but most of the time it is soothed with his prosthetic - though it can still flare up horribly when overused.

Sampos really weak to being kissed on the nape of his neck, right where his hair is. Hes not quite sure why.

Gepards easy to blush but inCREDIBLY hard to fluster. Hes so used to keeping himself in check and in control that to catch him in any form of stupor is rare.

Related - Gepard struggles immensely when hes out of control of a situation and someone he is unfamiliar with or doesnt trust holds power over it. Hes so used to being in charge and being looked to and only having those he trusts as peers or over him in the power system that being thrown into that situation crawls under his skin in a /neg way. Physical vulnerabilty is also not easy and very stressful.

Quite the opposite for Sampo - emotional vulnerabilty ties this guy in KNOTS. Hes pretty open to touch (once your on his trust list and ONLY if your on the trust list) but youll have to drag him kicking and screaming if you want a glimpse at his actual thoughts.

also Sampo has a wheezy hyena laugh.

Gepard only has only one or two potted plants he tried to use as motivation to go home more often- it was a suggestion from Pela. But uh, yeah it didnt work. Hes a great cook though!

On the other hand- do not let Sampo within 5 meters of a kitchen. For your sake and his. (hes not that bad and can make enough to get by- but it really .. does not taste great ...)

Sampos not entirely sure how old he is, but Natasha figured he was somewhere in his late twenties early thirties when he arrived on Jarilo and hes kinda been rolling with that ever since.

Gepard overheats really easily when he gets off planet eventually. Like it is bad how easily he gets heatstroke.

Sampo uses his blades to pick at his teeth sometimes. Both Natasha and Gepard hate this .

Gepard has a nasty resting bitch face. Hes learned to be able to nullify it a little bit but when hes tired it drops back to usual and makes it look likes constantly about to murder someone.

On the plus side, this control over his expression means he plays a nasty game of poker! (or whatever the Jarilo 6 counterpart of poker is)

Sampo has on more then one occassion forgot that he has the ability to neutralize most of Belobogs cold and has wandered outside without his jacket. Many people looked at him like he was insane.

Gepard always cuts the sleeve right above his gauntlet implant and sews a new hem to keep it from getting caught in machinery.

Hook called Sampo Gramps once. He never recovered.

Gepards hair is slowly turning brown instead of greying! Sampo is infact, salty about this.

Gepard has three majorly noticable scars. He has frostburn on his flesh hand that wind up his arm, he has Fragmentum cracks that wind up his opposite shoulder (amputated arm)(inactive so it looks like scar tissue or a lightning scar rather then black or gold) , and an impact scar/explosion scar across his lower back. Other minor scars are shrapnel cuts and his knuckles being scarred from being a fistfighter. Also his nose is slightly crooked.

Sampo has done a damn good job at making sure he looks the part of the shifty businessman but he has a few marks of his own. Being an Emanator means he heals quickly- and can mask any scars and injuries he gets with relative ease - but he prefers to not rely on this aspect. His biggest scar is an ugly blade cut into his right shoulderblade, and its only so prominant because it struggled to heal properly.

Sampo is shorter the Natasha! Natasha is just tall !! She is shorter then Gepard who is the tallest among the Belobog cast but shes second.

In order of tallest to shortest of Belobog adults its - Gepard, Natasha, Sampo, Serval, Luka, Bronya, Seele. Sorry Seele.

The Landau eye color and color crest is so recognizable in Belobog that that shade of blue is called Landau Blue.

When Sampo has a difficult time sleeping, he wordlessly buries his face into Gepards neck, who simply begins to hum if hes also awake.

Gepard is a light sleeper- he wakes up very easily. Sampo is not. Gepard has had to fight an extremely sleepy Sampo to get up in the morning more times then he can count.

Gepard actually does have a good singing voice, its just that he has poor discipline and tries to match Servals octave. Which is. Way to high. He also has good rhythm!

This does not mean he is a good dancer.

He can get through on dancing, it being part of his upbringing and studies growing up, but he can only do what steps he knows. Any improv and he falters.

Sampo has in fact trust falled on Gepard multiple times. Once at Bronya and Seeles wedding. He basically forced Gepard to dip him.

Gepard is actually incredibly sassy. Its just that hes awful at inflection and everything comes across as matter-of-fact or dry as fuck. That, and he only dares to sass Serval most of the time- theres not many other people hes comfortable enough with to let loose that much.

When it comes to fishing out back alley deals, few are more knowledgable than Sampo. Even before the Trailblazers, Sampo and Gepard had an under the table deal where if Gepard was unable to crack a case alone, he could get information off Sampo in exchange for supplies and shield. He was not happy about this deal but he deemed it a necessity- for the sake of Belobogs safety.

Sampo would and still does anonymously tip the Guards off on major crimes that could severely impact Belobogs already fragile economy. Hes no saint , but he has his personal morals and he sticks to them.

Gepard had many sharp teef , lil fangies even ! but theyve been worn down over time.

Sampo also has lil sharp teef ! his are more snake fang like tho, thinner.

[peachy-panic]

Not sure if you’re still taking prompts but if you are Id die for a ‘has anyone ever told you how pretty you are when you cry?’ For Jaime 🙏🏼🙏🏼

For the record, I am always happy to take prompts. Thank you for this one! <3

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU Adjacent, noncon drugging, grieving for dead parents

Rowan Smith stands outside the two-way mirror to the observation room, studying his newest assignment. 

The kid is flat on his back in the middle of the room, arms stretched out on either side of him. He’s high as a kite. His body appears to be completely relaxed, his breaths coming in an even rise and fall. You would think he’s in a state of complete euphoria, if it weren’t for the steady stream of silent tears sliding down his temples. 

He clicks on his tablet and makes a note in his file. 

110750 received final dose of diacetylmorphine at 17:09. Tox screen was completed at 22:31. He will be relocated to cell 34A today after his formal intake for the duration of his withdrawal and initial training. 

Rowan saves his entry and clicks the screen to black. He watches for another minute, then, decisively, swipes his key card at the door to let himself into the room. He isn’t technically supposed to mess with him before he’s officially admitted into the system—officially, none of this operation beneath the basement level of the facility really even exists—but Rowan can be discreet. 

He closes the door behind him and walks to the kid’s side, dropping into a crouch. His new trainee is so far gone that he doesn’t seem to be aware that anyone has even entered the room. He just keeps staring up at the ceiling while his tears drip into little pools on the concrete floor.

Jaime, the kid’s name is. For now, anyway. In less than an hour, that will be erased from his identity. Rowan will make him into the perfect blank slate, so that 110750 can become whoever he is required of him at any given moment. 

Reaching forward, he takes a tuft of soft, blond hair between his fingers and lets it drop back against his forehead. Finally, a pair of heavy-lidded brown eyes roll in his direction. Rowan smiles. He wonders if he can even really see him. Almost certainly, he won’t remember this tomorrow. 

“Why the long face, sweetheart?”

The boy blinks hard, like he’s trying to concentrate on something, then brings his hands down to pat the pockets of the jeans they haven’t yet taken from him.

“The picture,” he says, quiet and raspy. 

Rowan tilts his head in feigned confusion. “What picture is that?”

His thin fingers shake as he turns his pockets inside out, a little more agitation slipping through the heavy fog of his high. “My parents,” he says. “My photo. It has… I can’t…”

“Oh.” Smith puts on a sympathetic frown. “That old thing? We had to get rid of it.”

Jaime, or the person that used to be him, turns back to Rowan with a look of slowly dawning horror. “What?”

“You won’t be needing that anymore. We already burned it.”

His face crumbles into true devastation. It’s almost impressive that such emotion can break through the drugs. 

“It’s all I have left,” he whispers. 

God, Rowan thinks. They really brought me a treasure with this one. 

He reaches out again, this time to brush the hair off his forehead with a gentle hand. “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are when you cry?”