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#2020 was a bad year folks

12u3ie · 2 years

Note

Rainbow ask game!

🌈 ✨ 🌈✨ 🌈 ✨ 🌈✨

❤️ - Last song you listened to

🧡 - Ideal pizza toppings

💛 - Dream vacation

💚 - Earth, Air, Fire, or Water

💙 - Cartoon you grew up on

💜 - Favorite scent

Answer and then send the rainbow to brighten up 5 of your favorite blogs! Positivity is cool!

I don't like passing on these things (just an anxiety thing ig, also who has five friends? /j) but I will answer!

❤️ - "Dear Winter" by AJR. Decided to re-listen to some of Neotheater!

🧡 - Cheese. I'm boring, I know. How about I say "good-sized bits of unshreaded mozzarella" to spice it up?

💛 - Hmm, I don't know. I like staying where I am. I guess just to see my friends that don't live near me, or my cousin that lives halfway across the country.

💚 - Technically fire, but I've always felt closer to air or water. Sorry earth, you are beloved <3

💙 - Anything on PBS and LEGO Ninjago are what's coming to mind right now

💜 - Would "the smell of home" be too cheesy? I'm not big on scents, but I own a couple perfumes that I like: blueberry, rose, and "magic." No I'm not kidding on that last one.

Thanks for the ask! Again, I don't like being pressured by the nature of these games to pass it on, but I do enjoy answering myself from time to time.

#emiplayzmc #ask game answers #also if other folks have sent me these in the past year or so #dont feel bad that you didnt know i dont like them #idk if ive said so since 2020-early 2021 #its all chill

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robertreich · 3 months

Video

youtube

Biden vs. Trump: Whose Economic Plan Is Better for You?

Trump failed to deliver on his number one campaign promise:

President Trump presided over a historic net loss of nearly 3 million American jobs, the worst jobs numbers ever recorded under an American president.

This is no fluke. America’s economy has almost always done worse under Republican presidents. A New York Times analysis found that since 1933, the U.S. economy has grown nearly twice as fast on average under Democrats.

Now Trump’s defenders claim it’s not his fault that the economy collapsed under his watch. It was the pandemic. But there are two big things wrong with this.

First, the pandemic recession was as bad as it was because of Trump. His failure to lead with any national strategy left America in chaos throughout 2020, long after other nations had developed coordinated testing, tracing, and social distancing plans that allowed them to reopen their economies.

But secondly, even before the pandemic, Trump failed to deliver on his economic promises. Job growth slowed under Trump.

America added more jobs in President Obama’s last three years than in Trump’s first three.

Even before the pandemic most middle-class American households saw their incomes go down under Trump.

Trump’s major economic policy was cutting taxes on the rich and big corporations. He promised it would result in $4,000 annual raises for workers. How did that work out? Did you get a $4,000 raise?

Republicans keep claiming that if we just cut enough taxes on the rich, the wealth will “trickle down.” But it never works. Wage growth slowed after Reagan’s tax cuts for the rich and big corporations. And the Bush and Trump tax cuts didn’t trickle down either.

These giveaways to the wealthy came at the expense of investments in infrastructure, education, and health care, making life more expensive and difficult for everyone who isn’t rich.

They also exploded the debt and deficit. Reagan oversaw a 186% increase in the national debt — the biggest percentage increase in over 70 years. The Bush and Trump tax cuts, that mostly benefited corporations and the rich, are the main reasons why America’s debt is growing faster than the economy.

Republican presidents have led us into the three worst economic crises of the last century, and Democrats led us out of them.

Republicans talk about running the country like a business, but they want to run it the way Trump ran his businesses: with massive debts, a string of failures, and payouts for the folks at the top, while workers get shafted again and again. Given Republicans’ track record, why would any hard-working American put their financial security in the hands of a Republican president ever again?

#youtube #economics #politics #economy #election #videos #video #Donald Trump #Joe Biden

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 months

Text

2023 yumejoshi questionnaire results + comparisons

For those who may not know, the term "yumejoshi" (ie "dream/dreaming girl") broadly refers to people (typically women) who enjoy shipping themselves with or creating romantic content with themselves and fictional characters. There is a Twitter questionnaire every year that compiles the top 100 male characters for self-shipping, and since TWST's original release in 2020, some of its characters have been featured!! Please note: the respondents are largely from JAPANESE TWITTER USERS who see the characters in a ROMANTIC light. Therefore, the popularity of certain characters may not be reflected in your own part of the international TWST fandom, whatever social media spaces you frequent, or your own views on the character(s).

The TWST characters placing in 2023 are as follows:

39. Fellow Honest

41. Ace Trappola

44. Trey Clover

50. Rollo Flamme

57. Leona Kingscholar

76. Idia Shroud

89. Malleus Draconia

For comparison, here are the 2022 results:

49. Azul Ashengrotto

52. Trey Clover

69. Rollo Flamme

70. Jade Leech

71. Idia Shroud

74. Ruggie Bucchi

75. Floyd Leech

96. Jack Howl

2021 results:

12. Azul Ashengrotto

14. Trey Clover

15. Floyd Leech

25. Jade Leech

39. Ace Trappola

41. Leona Kingscholar

43. Jamil Viper

44. Idia Shroud

60. Ruggie Bucchi

76. Deuce Spade

92. Jack Howl

2020 results:

8. Azul Ashengrotto

12. Jade Leech

17. Trey Clover

42. Idia Shroud

50. Ruggie Bucchi

71. Jack Howl

99. Riddle Rosehearts

100. Rook Hunt

... Have you noticed it yet? THAT'S RIGHT, FOLKS 🤡 It's not Leona, not Azul, not Malleus, but TREY "I'M NORMAL, I'M NOTHING SPECIAL" CLOVER and IDIA "I BARELY TOUCH GRASS" SHROUD that appear in all 4 years... TREY-IDIA SWEEP…

Other popular picks are Ruggie, Jack, Azul, and Jade, all of whom appear in 3 out of 4 years. Leona, Floyd, and Ace are also decently liked, both ranking in 2 out of 4 years. Finally, Deuce, Jamil, Riddle, Rook, and Malleus each appeared in 1 year out of 4 years.

The most surprising results are event-limited characters like Fellow Honest and Rollo Flamme placing in the years they were introduced (plus the year after, in Rollo’s case). Hilarious that Rollo and Leona placed higher than Malleus, since they both dislike him— I know there was a TON of thirst for Fellow, but I didn’t think it would be this bad 😭 He was only here for a few months and he still overtook everyone else! (Meanwhile the other scammers, the Octatrio, have fallen off…) Fellowives truly are comin' in clutch for their man…

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redclercs · 11 months

Text

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

x. what a shame she's fucked in the head.

— the one where they tell you what your word is worth.

❝𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘐 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦❞ —𝘛𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘚𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘵, 𝘊𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵.

warnings: abuse downplay, bashing towards taylor swift (i obviously adore her pls don't come for me haha), online bullying, new york inaccuracies, corny taylor references per usual, etc. 2k words + articles

in my head there's a mix of begin again and cornelia street playing as background music.

masterlist ✢ next

NO one likes a mad woman, but not for the reasons Taylor Swift made you believe in the lyrics of her 2020 song. Although we are definitely afraid y/n might get 'more crazy'.

Honestly, who gave her the right to speak like that about Aidan Kim? As it turns out, the three-year relationships she willingly stayed on was a 'dead-end' one, and Aidan "abused" (and I cannot stress the quotations enough) her through several stages of their shared time.

Well, I call bullshit.

How is it that after Aidan Kim helped her build whatever she has going on that people call a 'career' she wasn't bothered about being told 'how to look and how to act' (direct quote from her own video, by the way).

Breaking up with your sneaky link and calling him your friend won't save what you did before, y/n, it's the oldes trick in the book. Everything she said in her Youtube video, one I regretfully watched despite the knowledge that I won't get those 45 minutes of my life back, is rehearsed and calculated and just tried to paint the real victims in a bad light.

Playing the victim worked for Taylor Swift in 2009, 2017, 2019... but we surely won't let it happen again, right folks? y/n needs a new tactic to crawl back from the hell, because we're not believing anything that comes out of her mouth anymore.

It's true what they say, an untalented actress makes an untalented liar.

By Lia Yim

Victoria Presley is worried about best friend's y/n y/ln's well-being after the actress 'completely ghosted her' since moving back to New York.

"One day we were fine and the next, she had packed her bags and left my house," Presley said in an exclusive interview with iNTouch. "I'm not going to lie, I was deeply hurt by her actions. I offered her my home as a safe haven and she left without explanation."

y/n had been living in Victorias Los Angeles home since mid-February until this month when she returned to her infamous SoHo apartment, one she shared with Aidan Kim until their breakup.

"I can find it in my heart to forgive her, of course," 'Vic', as she's known on social media, added. "Right now, I just want my best friend back. I want the y/n I've known for years and not this person she became since Matilde Bassi and Charles Leclerc inserted themselves in her life."

Victoria Presley, the founder and CEO of Presley Beauty, is the daughter of Luke Presley and Claire Walker and has been in the influencing business for a few years now.

"If y/n ends up reading this, I want her to know that I will support her decisions but not in the way her new 'friends' are doing. I just want what's best for her."

SEE ALSO:

→ Vic Presley on having to start from zero: "I'm not a nepobaby!"

→ A look inside y/n's SoHo apartment, the one Aidan Kim paid for.

→ Is Charles Leclerc's career going downhill thanks to y/n?

By Beatrice Mann

With y/n y/ln's latest controversy, the whole world has turned their backs on the actress. But, is it really that bad? Or is it just because she's a woman in the business?

The online community's hottest topic is y/n's Youtube video where she speaks on her relationship with Aidan Kim, her friendship with Charles Leclerc and, most importantly, how all of this has affected her career. And I want to tell you all, y/n is right.

If the roles were reversed, Aidan Kim would be thriving on a newly unlocked 'Heartbreaker' persona and y/n would still be constantly humiliated for not being 'wife material'.

I believe y/n deserves much better than what she's getting. The woman admitted she escaped a relationship where her partner LAUGHED at her and manipulated her actions for his comfort. And people are still siding with the man? Seriously, people, use your brains and dig up your morals!

The only thing we're communicating to younger generations by constantly doubting women's words and putting them in the spotlight for standing up for themselves, is that only men's words are worth something.

June 14th, Manhattan, New York.

It isn't much of a surprise when Charles calls you while you're trying to get your Moka pot to work that morning. It's your third attempt at it and the previous mornings you've left it alone with tears in your eyes to walk down the street and get Starbucks coffee. You might be a little too attached to that coffee maker.

Charles got to New York city the previous night, and reminded you that you promised to show him around more than once. You intended to keep your promise, thinking you would have more time before the day came.

But as you walk to the restaurant where you decided to meet him, you can't help but think how exciting it is that you get to show the city you love so much to Charles. And just like that morning in Monaco, you can't help but remind yourself that this is a friendly get-together.

Charles has slowly, but surely, become one of your closest friends in the middle of the frenzy that your life is. With your ex-best friend saying you walked out on her and your failed fiancé insisting that it was you, who acted like a 'total psychopath' towards the end of your relationship, you have more fingers than people you can count on.

You watch him carefully as he smooths the napkin on his legs twice and then drops in on the table again, fidgeting with the loose threads in the corner.

Your wristwatch says it's 10:00 am, which is the exact time you agreed to meet. You wonder how long he's been waiting if there's an empty cup of coffee in front of him.

"You know, it's also rude to be too early for a meeting," you say as a form of greeting once you approach the table.

This startles him enough to drop the napkin on his lap again, proceeding to scramble to return it to the table before pushing his chair out to get up.

You chuckle, but before you can say you were joking, Charles is engulfing you in a hug. Your stomach flutters because of the way he holds the back of your head with his palm. It feels like you're being reunited after months instead of just two weeks. Time doesn't feel real sometimes, you would know.

"Soleil!" he says excitedly, putting his hands on your shoulders. "It's so good to see you,"

"It's nice to see you too, Charlie."

There's the nickname again. You've tried not to think too hard about it. Is it a European thing to call your friends that? When you asked him about it the last time he called before taking his flight to New York, his response was a simple 'it suits you'.

Charles pulls your chair for you and grabs your purse to place it on the empty chair between you two. He grabs his napkin again, pulling one last time on a thread before smoothing it down and forgetting about it.

"How are you?" Charles asks, a bright smile on his face. It falters in a barely perceptible way because he doesn't want to give you bad thoughts, which seem to come automatically every time the question is asked.

"Well, I'm okay," you assure in a soothing tone, "Still looking for jobs. And you?"

"Alright. Lots of work in the simulator and I'm hoping this is a good weekend,"

"Are you sure you'll be okay getting to Montreal tomorrow?" you smile at the waitress that approaches your table, "Can I have some coffee, please?"

"Of course," Charles assures, with a gesture of his hand. He's getting to Montreal at seven in the morning and running straight to his motorhome. "There's time for everything."

"What do you want to do, then?"

You don't want to exhaust him by showing him around New York, he has a long weekend ahead. To be honest, you really wonder what compelled him to make this stop instead of going straight to Canada. Sure you had talked about him coming to New York, eventually. Not a day before he had to start his Grand Prix weekend.

"Anything you want us to do," he replies, the single-dimpled smile on his face. "I'm open to anything."

"MoMA? Central Park? Something not so touristy?" you suggest, before thanking the waitress as she places a hot cup of coffee on the table.

"Just show me the places you like, y/n, don't stress about it." Charles laughs, eyes returning to the open menu in front of him. "I only care about hanging out with you."

"Thanks," is all you manage to say as you sip the scalding coffee, you do your best not to wince as it burns your tongue and down your throat. "Let's do it then."

"So, what do you think? Everything you expected and more?"

You're taking a walk in Central Park after Charles agreed to see the Alice in Wonderland statue. It's a warm morning in New York and although you haven't been walking around for that long, Charles seems content enough with what he's seen.

"It's very... you," Charles replies, and you're sure he means it as a compliment, but New York can be really ugly too. "In a good way!" he adds when he sees your expression.

"Thank you, Charlie." you laugh again. It's easy being with Charles, laughing with sincerity and really being in what's happening in the moment.

You didn't lie when you said you weren't afraid of speaking up anymore, but the dread of actually doing it is inevitable. Your words are being twisted and marked as false because Aidan is far 'more loved' than you are. Not to mention Victoria's interview about your lack of reciprocity to her humble feelings

You're still thinking about suing her. But it hurts to know that she was your best friend a week ago.

A few people stop you both to ask for pictures and autographs on the back of phone cases. A few of them ignore you, others smile politely at Charles before asking him to take their picture with you.

"I'm really polishing my photographing skills," Charles jokes as you walk away from a group of young girls who gush about how much they wish they could dress like you.

"Sorry if it bothers you," you whisper, looking at him only from the corner of your eye.

"Of course not, y/n. They ask nicely, and you're okay with it." he shrugs.

There was one time when a teenager, around fourteen or fifteeen, asked Aidan if he could please take a picture of her and yourself. It was an innocent question, she had already acknowledged him as 'that guy from Star-5' and how he'd been in Supercut with you.

But just by the way you saw his expression change, you told the girl a selfie was a better option, you would hold the phone yourself if she was okay with it.

You didn't hear the end of it for the rest of night. Aidan berated your career for the first time of many, saying it was frankly offensive that he’d been treated that way. It didn't matter that you told him the girl was barely a teen and she hadn't been rude. Still, he was more famous than you, he didn't deserve to be made felt like the opposite.

"What are you thinking?" Charles asks, touching your shoulder gently to make you pause your walk.

You really don't want to admit you were thinking about your ex-boyfriend. Not that it matters, Charles knows you think about Aidan often in a mostly negative light, but it feels weird to say it here. So you shrug and sigh. "I wish I thought of nothing, to be honest."

Charles squeezes your shoulder in a half hug. He doesn't push your boundaries, although he wishes he knew what was actually going through your mind.

─────────

It's when you two are having dinner in a restaurant in SoHo that Charles asks the question that has been eating him away since he landed in New York the previous night.

"Do you want to come to Canada with me?"

"Am I not blacklisted from the paddock?" you tease, although Elix is gone. You wonder if Ferrari people blame you a little bit for their sponsor dropping them.

"Absolutely not," Charles frowns, "And you would be my guest, you get to be in the Ferrari Suite like always."

"Thank you, Charlie–"

Charles tries not to seem disappointed as he waits for the 'but' to follow, so he drinks from his wine.

"—but I have some back to back things to do this weekend," you do regret not being able to make it, you loved the few Grand Prix you were able to attend and you would love to see Carlos too. But you have booked a few interviews with people who, more than anything want to consume gossip, but have disguised it as 'letting you tell your truth in more depth'. You cannot back down from what you started.

"That's okay," he assures with a quick wink. "You know you can come to races whenever you want to, though, right?"

"I can?" you raise both eyebrows and Charles rolls his eyes. "The benefits of having a Ferrari driver as a friend. I should have befriended you sooner."

"Very funny," he says as he hides his smile behind his glass of wine again. "Do I get invited to the Red Carpets?"

"You kind of befriended me at the downfall of my career. It's going to take a while for you to be on a Red Carpet."

Charles clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "You're only just getting started, soleil. Don't say that."

You hope he's right, because you have castings lined-up for next week too and you don't want to call him, or Mati, or your mom, crying about how unwanted you feel.

You shrug, drinking from your own wine.

"I'm being serious, y/n," Charles' tone is stern for a moment, yet not aggressive. "You have a lot of wonderful things to do in the future."

"Yeah, thanks." you dislike yourself for ruining the mood yet again, but Charles isn't bothered as he smiles at you once again.

"I mean it,"

He does, and so does Mati, and your mom. You are bound for great things, although they're taking time to find you right now.

"I know. Thank you Charlie, you're very kind. I hope you have a good race this weekend."

Charles huffs. "Yes, me too. Wish me luck?"

"I feel like I jinx you more than help you, Charlie."

"You didn't wish me luck in Spain, look how that went," he fakes a shudder and you snort. You hated every minute spent in Spain after FP3.

"Good luck, you'll do great." You pat the hand that he keeps on top of the table a couple times and before you can take your hand back, he grabs it, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Your heart races and you take a deep, sharp breath, like that would help it go back to normal. You have tried not to overanalyze everything about today, from the way Charles looked to the words he said, to the way your body responded to it. You don't want to go down that specific spiral.

"Thanks for stopping by," you take your hand back and keep it busy with your almost empty glass of wine. The alcohol has turned your cheeks warm. "You really want to see New York, huh?"

"I really wanted to see you," Charles replies, nonchalantly.

And you know you'll be spiraling, despite your best efforts.

─── team principal radio: ❝thanks for reading! also thank you so so so much because last chapter got to 1k+ interactions and i was beyond shocked!! it means a lot that you're enjoying delicate!♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @sassyheroneckgiant @flowerchild-96 @fangirlika @shegotboreddsoo @roseamongthorns13 @cissyp @chimchimjiminie16 @saturnsrinqs @roni-midnights @gayyvodka6 @studioreader @its-ash-not-grey @lu-morningstar @ferraribabe @reidsworld @feelslikestrawberries @celestialams @kosmosgalore @heeseung-baby @missenclod @buendiabebeta @mycenterfold @aces-tattooartist @burningrred @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @rainybabe25 @ru-kru @lazybot @teenagedreams-cl @cool-ultra-nerd @kuskumu @formulakay3 @bisexual-desi @somanyfandomsbruh @icarus-nex @haziefairy @xjval @xoxoloverb @sainzleclercs @headinthecloudssblog @incoherenciass @bookophiliac @torrie421 @nooshytushie @azxulaa @steephanie07 @anonymous8462 @tbisloneely @pukklv @bn7921 @be-your-coffee-pot @fdl305 @lovely-blackinnon @landonorizzz @ruleroftheuniverse @ivegotparticulartaste

want to join the paddock club? click here!

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#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #cl16 fanfic #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine

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unforth · 3 months

Text

We are one Iowa caucus into the absolute shitshow that is going to be the US 2024 elections, and I'm already sick of seeing takes downplaying the risk that Trump and his fascist followers represent.

Look. Around 1900, my mother's grandparents immigrated to the Lower East Side of New York City. They brought with them children born in Europe (Poland? Ukraine? which country they were in depends on what year we're talking about) - we're not 100% sure they were THEIR children, even, but there were three, and they were young, and they came. But my great-grandparents had siblings, parents, cousins, uncles, aunts, huge families. And while my understanding is that an attempt was made to convince those folks to move to the US, none of them ultimately opted to.

They all kept in touch as they were able, exchanging letters and pictures, but through World War 1, through the 20s, through the Great Depression, through the worsening situation in Europe in the 1930s, my entire extended family who chose not to immigrate...continued to stay.

I think we all know how this story ends.

I have an entire family photo album of people whose names I will never know, because after every single one of them died in the Holocaust, my great-grandparents and grandparents couldn't bear to even label them. And they were PEOPLE, poor, vibrant, eager to maintain connections with their loved ones abroad. One was a Klezmer musician, and we have photos of him with all the different instruments he played. They're so real on the page, and they all ended in ashes.

And you know how that started? Fascism started with every inch allowed, with every well-intentioned moderate who tried to maintain a middle position even as the whole ground shifted right beneath their feet and even "middle" became extreme, every "no that change isn't coming fast enough, I want instant full improvement NOW" liberal who felt that doing nothing was better than accepting a slower improvement in the (truly awful!) post-World War 1 living situation in Germany.

Most of the members of my extended family also downplayed the risks. They never imagined that the worst could happen to them. They never fathomed how bad things could become.

And now I have their example always before me to know and to scream:

I KNOW HOW BAD THINGS CAN BECOME. I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FAMILY THEN.

I WILL NOT LET THAT HAPPEN TO MY FAMILY NOW.

People look at me like I'm crazy when I say I've got our passports ready (and have had since before the 2020 election).

Look. I don't know what will happen if Trump is elected, but there's a very real possibility he will, and he's been extremely clear about saying what he'll do. He did a lot of the things he said he'd do last time. I expect he'll continue to do the things he says he'll do. And the things he say he'll do will lead to the deaths of more people than we can imagine - in the US, in Palestine, throughout the world.

Don't tell me there's a middle ground here. Don't tell me I'm over-reacting. Don't tell me the worst won't happen. Don't tell me the risk is mild. Don't tell me we're safe.

We. Are. Not. Safe.

The lives of dozens, hundreds, of members of family were lost in the 1940s amid the horrifying statistic "6,000,000 dead Jews."

I will not let my life (as a Jew), my wife's life (as a disabled woman), my son's life (as a biracial boy), my daughter's life (as a biracial trans girl), be part of the statistics that come from our a second Trump presidency.

If you won't vote like YOUR life depends on it, vote like someone ELSE'S life depends on it, because IT DOES.

And if you can't even do that much, at least shut the fuck up and stop spreading your poison around. You're wrong. The danger is real. Downplaying it now won't make your conscience feel any clearer when it actually happens, and comforting everyone else downplaying it will just make you that much more complicit.

#unforth rambles #politics #us politics #genocide #genocide tw #i don't know how to tag this #i wish the album was here instead of at my mom's #i want every one of you who think this doesn't matter #to stare at the smiling faces of my long-dead relatives #and see these people who were shot and stabbed and burned and raped and destroyed #who died in rebellion or despair in hopelessness or desperation #no matter how much or how little they fought #they're all ashes now and nothing will bring them back #i have no family in europe #not a single person survived #i won't let my family be the ones who stay too long because we don't take it seriously #and neither should you

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vs120shound-2 · 5 months

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Yana as a cheerleader is a concept too enticing to get our heads wrapped around! Luckily, we can always revert back to this image!

"Go team! Go Smoke That Cigarette! Go 'phuque' that girl who smokes!"

ONLY_YANA CAN CHEER FOR US AT ANY OLD TIME!

Yana (only_yana_only) was born in the Ukraine but migrated to Australia where she has been for years. Did some work with the SmokeVision family of SF websites, in dipping her toe into the SF waters! She's an SF entrepreneur nowadays and a Social Media Smoking Darling-Social Network Cigarette Girl. A Marlboro 100s Gal, Yana was meant to be a cigarette smoker. Plus, aside from her beauty and sultriness, she is recently out of her teenage years, having entered the SF fray in 2020 . . . or was it in 2019 (COVID-19 times still blurry for it was the same day repeated over and over and over again)? . . . as a 19 y.o.!

Dual-Media 3-Post, 15-Pack Megapost!

SF Deity, upon review of this "Pinned Post" request, has decreed that, although it is post-release, Yana is now hereby promoted to "official" Honorable Mention status for the "unofficial" official Top-25 all-time favorite SF models list published on vs120shound in January 2023. "An omission this egregious only makes us look bad. Loved our series, it was great but anything can be flawed and that might be the lone "belch" within the entire project. Great job; we're correcting a mistake now. That's all; nothing else -- no hidden 'political' agenda, folks," SFD said while watching a video of smokingprincessof!

THE MEDIA!

From IG@only_yana_only on July 25, 2023 . . . .

From IG@only_yana_only on August 1, 2023 . . .

From user0726 of Smoking Fetish Kingdom on April 29, 2023 with a friend at the gym, following a workout . . .

Yana on YouTube! (Yana's gone tubing big-time!)

From YT's "SmokeVision" webpage in 2021 . . .

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From YT's "SmokeVision" webpage in 2021 . . .

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From YT's "SmokeVision" webpage in 2021 . . .

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From YT's "Only Yana" webpage in 2022 . . .

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From YT's "Only Yana" webpage in 2021 . . .

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From YT's "Only Yana" webpage in 2022 . . .

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From YT's "Only Yana" webpage in 2022 . . .

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From YT's "Only Yana" webpage in March 2022 . . .

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From YT's "Only Yana" webpage in August 2022 . . .

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Previous Posts of Yana on Our Network!

From vs120shound on October 27, 2023 . . .

From vs120shound on September 16, 2023 . . .

#SF #Hot women who love smoking cigarettes #Smoking cigarettes #Smoking #Yana!#Only_yana_only!#Instagram@only_yana_only!#YouTube!#Honorable Mentional for Top-25 all-time favorite SF models list!

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drdemonprince · 2 months

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as a person who was housebound before the pandemic happened and had recovered somewhat by 2020, i was having a crisis during lockdown due to essentially being retraumatized by my world suddenly shrinking to one room again, which isn't something people who make flippant comments when people talk about lockdown causing emotional distress want to consider ever. i'm chronically ill and immune compromised but not the right kind of chronically ill and immune compromised i guess!

fucking THANK YOU for your message. There is some very insidious heirarchical shit happening in the COVID disability discourse online, where the people who are only recently housebound (due to long COVID or discovery of being in a high-risk category) are given more of a platform and more of a voice than people who have been disabled in other ways and housebound for years or even decades (or sometimes housebound, sometimes not, because of a dynamic condition). Because they have greater proximity to abledness by virtue of their past status, and also because they therefore perceive their newfound disability as a terrible affront and outrage, people of this type are very, very bad at listening to the perspectives of other disabled folks. (there are paralells to this in other disability communities -- formerly abled people who become wheelchair users in the middle of adulthood are given more attention, status, etc than people who have always used wheelchairs for instance)

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sp00kymulderr · 3 months

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💗Welcome to the fic rec list!💗

This is where I keep the all time greats, and the ones I want to come back to again and again. The list will be regularly updated, because there's so much incredible fic out there!

Please do also check out my #fic rec tag for loads more goodies.

💗DIETER BRAVO💗

our girl by @party-hearses

send in the clown by @covetyou

jester little bit more by @covetyou

stay gold, baby boy by @chronically-ghosted

Circle, Circle by @insomniamamma

three's company by @pennyserenade

A Bad Idea by @the-blind-assassin-12

Non-Disclosure Agreement by @atinylittlepain

i crawl home to her by @chronically-ghosted

For You, I Would Ruin Myself by @thelightsandtheroses

Misfire by @qveerthe0ry

Fifty Shades of Orange by @all-the-things-2020

My Favorite Part by @tightjeansjavi

Little Monsters by @chronically-ghosted

Chaste by @covetyou

Dress Me Up & Call Me Pretty by @morallyinept

You can never keep a soul by @chronically-ghosted

💗EZRA💗

Hue by @goodwithcheese

Shorn by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Exposed by @maggiemayhemnj

The Pit by @morallyinept

Compulsion (series) by @iamskyereads

The Thing That Gives by @lincolndjarin

weathers cool, folks fine by @justrunamok

Dream Within a Dream by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

The Devil Beckons (And I Must Heed His Call) by @pettyprocrastination

Lamplit by @fleetwoodmactshirt

💗JOEL MILLER💗

Seven by @proxima-writes

ripe by @hier--soir

something wretched about this (series) by @covetyou

Oh Honey (series) by @lincolndjarin

Fifteen Seconds, Sixteen Years by @dilf-din

Night Walks (series) by @toxicanonymity

Five of Joel Millers birthdays by @bastardmandennis

💗JAVIER PEÑA💗

nights are so starry, blood moonlit by @janaispunk

Helpless Optimism by @the-blind-assassin-12

Dry Run by @chronically-ghosted

💗MARUCS PIKE💗

I'll Crawl Home To Her by @thetriumphantpanda

caught red lipped by @5oh5

Personal Day by @sin-djarin

💗FRANKIE MORALES💗

into the beat of the night (series) by @perotovar

#sp00ky fic recs #fic rec list #pedro pascal characters #lmao can you tell where my obsession lies?

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phoebepheebsphibs · 1 day

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What does the bad timeline au look like for your boys 👀

OOOOH, here we go!

(So, I did hint to this in the NFIF/UIFY Crossover when DvD met Omega, and Omega ran a simulation to see what DvD's future would be like. It was a general explanation, but I'm gonna go deeper into detail now --)

2020: So, first off, the Krang attack in 2020, same as in canon. Leon, 'Phael, Mikey, and DvD manage to survive the invasion by some miracle. For the first year, they just focus on staying alive and hidden from the aliens, but by the end of that first year the reunite with April and their friends and discover the beginnings of the Resistance. (Karai was separated from them all as well, but no one has seen her yet and so they all assume she's dead.)

2023-2025: Several years pass, and there is still no sign of Karai. While the boys are out doing a supply raid, they get ambushed by a Krang attack and are caught in a collapsing building. 'Phael freezes in panic and Leon takes a hit to rescue him, though the two are trapped in rubble together as they wait for Mikey and DvD to dig them out. However... Leon doesn't have that long, and encourages Raph as the leader of their family to stay strong and take care of Mikey and Donnie and April and everyone else...

Leo dies, having saved Raphael.

2025-2030: The three mourn their brother, but do their best to help lead the Resistance. In 2026, Cass gives birth to a son, and 'Phael helps her to raise the child. However, during these five years, tragedy strikes again. Michelangelo's hypoglycemia has been acting up due to the low rations, and in spite of their promptings to take care of himself, Mikey has been intentionally skipping meals so the others can take his rations, effectively starving himself. That, coupled with the injuries he gets from his ninpo overdrive, finally takes its toll on his frail body.

Mikey starves to death.

2030-2035: After Mikey's death, Donnie and Raph have a hard time staying cheerful. And to add to the grief, Cassandra dies in battle as well. But some good comes to light, as the group receives word of a lone stranger roaming New York and saving survivors while battling the Krang. After investigating, they discover that Karai has survived and become something of a folk hero! She joins their Resistance, bringing her own group of survivors with her. During this time, Raphael has grown to be a force to be reckoned with, and even the leader of the Resistance! Donatello is working around the clock to create weapons and grow nutritional, non-contaminated plants that they can eat safely. It's hard work, but no one said the end of the world was easy. DvD discovers a formula and equation that may work for time-travel, but he is unsure... he starts to build the machine.

2035-2044: The Resistance is not looking good. They can barely go above ground anymore without being picked off and slaughtered. The food and supplies are running low. 'Phael realizes that the end is coming, and there may be no escape. He has Donnie work full-time on the time machine, as it is their last hope. The Resistance grows smaller and smaller with each passing month, until it seems like it's just Raph, DvD, April, Karai, and Casey Jones Jr., along with a few special people like Big Mama Frida Kahlo. Finally, in 2044, the Krang find their hideout and begin to slaughter the last of the Resistance. Raph has CJ and Donnie evacuate into the labs with the time machine, and while Raph holds them off, Donnie begins to power the machine with his ninpo and what little electricity they have left. Raph instructs Casey on what to do, that he's sending him back in time -- not necessarily to stop the Krang, but more importantly to save Casey from the attack. If nothing else, Casey must survive. If Raph can do nothing else but make sure that his boy sees a world without war, where he is healthy... that will be enough for him. That will redeem his mistakes, how he let his brothers die because of his failures and fear. Casey has to live. He tells him to find his family, warn them, and to find his sister as well, because she -- Suddenly the Krang break into the room, and Casey is thrown into the time machine. Dee's ninpo goes into overdrive and powers the machine, though it costs him his life. Raph manages to hold the Krang off until the machine does it's duty, and then...

Raph and Donnie die sending Casey Jones Jr. into the past.

And yes, I did cry writing this.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tutant meenage neetle teetles #until i found you #until i found you au #rottmnt until i found you #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt casey jr #bad timeline #rottmnt bad future #rottmnt bad timeline #writing angst #rottmnt fanfiction

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buniyaad · 9 months

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didnt wanna hijack someone's post with the Disk Horse, but I just wanna note that bernard being tim's love interest in 2023 is VERY different from him being a side-side-side character in the early 2000s. i think there's definitely a generational divide on how the relationship's perceived bc there's absolutely a difference between how bernard and tim's relationship is portrayed during their time in school versus in adulthood.

part of reading tim's coming out story in the 2020s with relation to bernard is finally acknowledging that we finally broke tim out of his amber glass. this is also, i will note, a SPECIFIC kind of coming-out-story that won't resonate with folks who weren't living through that specific era of homophobia where the fallout of the AIDS crisis overlapped with the rise of mass surveillance and that post-9/11 grimdark take on superheroes across ALL media. it was a weird fucking time. it also won't resonate with anyone who wasn't "growing up" with tim during his time as robin. now, do you HAVE to know every little thing about tim to accept this piece of character development? no, you don't, but you DO have to take into consideration that tim was locked in the time vault for a veryyy long time and a lot of things, including his on-and-off with stephanie, were part of the status quo for his character long before dc decided to pull the trigger with tim's bisexuality.

but what happens when the forever-sixteen isn't sixteen anymore? he grows up! he gets to reflect! he gets to try new things without being held back by the amber glass. time is the key factor here! if you look at tim and bernard's relationship through the eyes of the robin run of that era, of course it's gonna feel weird! that tim could only really take bernard in doses, bc that tim was as much of an asshole teen as bernard was. with the breaking-of-the-amber, we now learn that tim had to do some serious reflection to get to the point where he could say that this guy he used to know COULD be someone special. if you follow tim's story through the lens of a closeted queer raised in the era of when that robin run was being published, tim's just another queer guy who's finally come to terms with the fact that, that dude he went to high school with who he just ran into at the target might not be so bad after all. he's kinda cute, actually. did he think he was cute back in the tenth grade? probably not, but he's not in tenth grade anymore, now is he?

could DC comics have created an entirely new character to serve the narrative purpose of tim's coming out special? sure. then we woulda had ten years worth of criticism from fandom about how tim magically found a guy superhot and thus dumped stephanie over it, and we would circle back to the same argument about whether tim was a douchebag for dumping stephanie for some rando, and that his bisexuality is an asspull versus 'relevant character development'. either way, it would have upset the status quo. now, is that to say timsteph was never real? no! tim and stephanie talking about his erratic behavior and him coming out to her was to SPECIFICALLY address how him being bisexual isn't meant to downgrade their relationship, or that their love wasn't real. for anyone who's still whining about timsteph not being real anymore bc bernbear entered the chat, i've long stopped seeing it as legitimate criticism bc there are YEARS worth of content with them to indulge in. shitting on a coming-out story and a romance that hasn't even had five real-time years to be explored is just straight up crass and highlights much more insidious problems in the fandom aka the rampant homophobia, quick-to-anger behavior of fans who never learned media or litcrit, and motherfuckers who ride or die for status quo like it'll kill them to enjoy something tangential.

long story short, timbern real and so is timsteph, and one of these days, inshallah bartkon will be real too.

#timbern #tim drake #bernard dowd #stephanie brown #timsteph #real talk #dc comics

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eregyrn-falls-art · 1 year

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Gruß vom Krampus!

December 5th is Krampusnacht, and I've done some pieces related to that over the years. This year I decided to update my depictions of Stan and Ford in the older two pieces (from 2016 and 2017 respectively), and to put the three all together. The original piece from 2016 was done for the 2017 Hunkles calendar (December of course), and the sequel was done for New Years the following year, with the final pic in the sequence appearing in Dec. 2020.

As I said in the original post, my version of the Krampus is based on looking at traditional folk costumes actually worn by krampus figures in Austria for the Krampusnacht festival.

And finally, just to keep it all in one place: after posting the 2020 piece, I got an ask about the little collection of Pines dolls that hang off of Krampus's basket in the second pic, and that Stan is holding in the last pic. I went into a long explanation (including an overview of the Krampus tradition and celebrations), so I'll put it below a cut here:

fernikart57 asked:

In your Krampus art... what's with that belt, neclace, bead (?) of plushes from the Pines Family?

Okay so like… the explanation is probably kind of dumb. And it’s me making stuff up, rather than relying completely on the actual folklore.

So the Krampus figure is actually a collection of figures from Central Europe, particularly in the Alps, and the specific traditions associated with the Krampus can vary from region to region and town to town. Thus, while a set of the Krampus tropes have kind of been exported and caught on in popular culture, that pop culture figure now only resembles *some* Krampus traditions. I don’t think it’s accurate to talk about “a” Krampus or “the” Krampus, exactly, because of that regional variation. It’s also worth noting that Krampus celebrations are very much alive in various towns in the Alps.

Generally speaking, though, Krampus is a “wild man” figure, often with a demonic face (mask), a furry body, and goat-like features (especially horns). There are some theories that the basic figure itself is pre-Christian (like a lot of the wild-man traditions of Central and Northern Europe). (I personally think that’s pretty plausible, given the range of costumes we see.)

After the advent of Christianity, though, the Krampus became associated with “the devil” or demonic figures. And eventually, in a lot of traditions within the Central European mountain area, Krampus got paired with St. Nicholas, as a kind of tag-team. St. Nicholas in those traditions is almost certainly one of the origins of Santa Claus, in that he rewards well-behaved children with presents. (But, traditionally he dresses like a bishop, and not in the outfit that a lot of Americans are familiar with.) The 6th of December is the Feast of St. Nicholas, so Krampusnacht (”Krampus night”) is the 5th of December. And Krampus acts as the opposite of St. Nicholas – if presents are a means of encouraging good behavior, then Krampus is the threat used to discourage bad behavior.

So, some of the accreted trappings of the Krampus are a whip and a bundle of birch branches, for beating children / people, and a basket that he carries on his back, into which he puts the naughty children he finds, to carry them off for punishment. (Obviously, the message there is: don’t be naughty or the Krampus will get you.) A number of the Krampusnacht traditions involve men costumed as Krampus running wild through the streets, threatening people with their birch branches or whips and so on, making noise (thus all of the bells worn around the neck) and kind of terrorizing people (not just kids), as a set-up for St. Nicholas to come in the next day and reassert order. (Sometimes it’s only “terrorizing” in an “all in good fun” sense, similar to Halloween scariness; but apparently in some towns, it can get kind of rough.)

So with all of that background… I was originally just looking for a sort of “crytpid” or monster for Stan and Ford to be fighting, with a December theme, for that 2017 calendar piece. They are encountering more of a magical, “real monster” version (rather than the folkloric ritual version), and therefore I took some liberties with the idea, even though I incorporated a lot of design elements from a variety of real Krampus costumes.

I didn’t want to put any actual children into Krampus’s basket for Ford and Stan to rescue, though (in the original calendar piece, they wouldn’t have been that visible). But when I did the second piece, I included the doll versions of the four Pines, hanging from Krampus’s basket, as a sort of… symbolic magical threat, an expression of the idea that the Pines are its supernatural targets. The dolls act as kind of representations of Krampus’s targets, and I also thought of them, in that sense, as a darker reflection of the St. Nicholas gift-giving tradition (still toys, but toys with a sinister meaning). If Krampus was a “real” supernatural being that goes around punishing the “naughty” or “wicked”… then what is its definition of “wicked”, and would it be a fair one, or unfair?

In this scenario, Stan and Ford are not in the mood to debate with it over whether it is fair to take them to task for being “naughty”, but they are DEFINITELY not going to stand for the idea that the Krampus might go after Dipper and Mabel, so – time to take it down!

Anyway, for more about the actual Krampus, I recommend taking a look at the Krampus article on Wikipedia, or listening to this excellent podcast (which I was listening to as I finished the piece the other day; am very interested in getting that guy’s book!).

#gravity falls #stanford pines #stanley pines #sea grunks!#krampus #krampusnacht #gruss von krampus!#holidays #folklore #my art #id in alt

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littlemissclandestine · 3 months

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Why I think Russell Adler is going to make a comeback in COD 2024

WARNING⚠️: Contains spoilers for Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War and Call of Duty: Black Ops 2

Disclaimer: This is all just speculation on my behalf of course. I've just tried piecing stuff together for fun because Russ is one of my fave BO characters even though he's a bitch but i need more Adler content stat. <33

Let's get into it peeps. HEAR ME OUT.

Buckle up. Gonna be one hell of a ride folks 🤪

We'll start off with some random/background info.

Russ was born on February 12th 1937 so that would make him 53/54 in the Gulf War era. This actually isn't that old because if you think about it, Woods was about to turn 51 in 1981 during the Cold War campaign. What's a few more years?

We last saw Adler in action post-campaign in Warzone 1.0 cinematics but we've been kept in the dark about Adler's whereabouts post-1984 (after being brainwashed and killing Stitch LOL).

This meanie in a beanie wasn't forgotten about, oh no. He appears in the new cinematic intros on startup for both MWII (2022) and MWIII (2023). See below:

He was also featured twice in the 20 year anniversary video for Call of Duty whereas COD Ghosts didn't even get an appearance (ouch): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eL_w5HmxsPI

I personally believe Adler was a great addition to the Black Ops roster and is essentially the new Black Ops 'cover boy' now. Would be such a shame and a missed opportunity not to include a character like him in the upcoming COD. One who is morally grey, does whatever he deems necessary to get the job done - a bit like Cpt. Price in MW. Got the COD fans riled up about him brainwashing and pulling the trigger on Bell too - he's already got the spotlight in both a good and bad way.

Now, let's explore my main reasoning as to why I think Mr Shades 2.0 is most likely coming back in late 2024...

🎖️First up: Gulf War mission list 🔫

Here are some of the campaign missions that will be featured in Black Ops Gulf War. Obviously, this is subject to change, however, going off what we have, look closely...

Credit: @MWIIINTEL on Twitter/X

Safehouse guys...SAFEHOUSE. Takes you right back to Cold War, doesn't it? Ugh the potential.

🕵️ Next up: The campaign for COD 2024 will dive into the CIA's role/the Black Ops timeline 🕘

I took the following snippet from this official article.

From this, we know there will be a huge focus on the CIA and who's a CIA clandestine special officer? Mhm, you guessed it - Russell Adler.

Now, according to the events of BO2, it's evident which characters have the possibility of returning out of our original BO trio - Jason Hudson, Frank Woods and Alex Mason.

💫 Alex is presumed dead after Frank shot him so he's out the picture in '90/91 until 2025 when they canonically meet again.

🪵 Woods would be in his 60s during this time too so I'll let you decide whether that's too old for him to be in GW.

Edit: Woods got SPAS-12'd in the kneecaps on Dec 20th 1989 by Raul Menendez so uh...yeah

🧊 Hudson died on Dec 20th 1989 at the hands of Raul Menendez.

Feel free to check out this website (Call of Duty Wiki) for an outline of the events after CW to remind yourself. Here's a link to the Black Ops timeline from there.

➡️ Gulf War being a direct sequel to Cold War and what that could mean 💉

That brings me onto the rest of the safehouse crew. Since GW is a direct sequel to CW, it would make sense for some characters to carry over if possible:

We, as the player/Bell, get to choose whether Park or Lazar die (or both lovebirds) in 'End of the Line'. It's highly unlikely they'll return unless the devs make one decision canon maybe.

There could be a chance we see Sims again given his bond with Adler (Da Nang etc.), his age (late 40s in GW) and his status (alive).

That leaves the man himself, Russ. Everything from his age to the fact he's CIA and was the deuteragonist in COD 2020's campaign just makes sense for him to have at least a lil cameo or even a larger role, don't you think?

📱Finally: Hints from official posts 🔎

This post from Call of duty's official Instagram account kind of sealed the deal for me.

Oh lookie - they dropped syringe-lover's famous line in a zombies post. Why would COD just drop it so casually like that without a reason and years after since CW came out? They could've said absolutely anything else but no, this was purposeful.

And that's all for this episode guys and gals!

Thank you for reading!! 🫂

Do what you will with all this information but I have concluded in my silly little brain that scarface is coming back.

How he's only in one game is beyond me. Won't get a character like him ever again. Seems like a cliché war dude at first glance but dig a little deeper into the details of the CW campaign, peel back the layers and get into his psychology and WOWZERS.

Am I delusional? Most definitely.

But the possibility he might be returning...that little bit of hope is enough for me and i won't shut up about it.

This will age horribly if he isn't in GW. Forgive me for feeding your delusions too in that case. Please?

What are your thoughts? Feel free to share them! 😊

#this took forever rip #but you see where i'm coming from?#might do a part two if anything else gets leaked #Star's bottomless waffles ☆#call of duty #cod #black ops cold war #black ops 2 #alex mason #frank woods #russell adler #jason hudson #black ops gulf war #cod cw #cod cold war #call of duty black ops #call of duty cold war #cod 2024

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contemplatingoutlander · 10 months

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The former Republican David French does a good job of explaining what keeps MAGA folks continuing to support Trump. It's all about the "culture" of MAGA and the sense of "belonging," combined with years of propaganda that have painted anyone even slightly on the left as being "bad" and "out to get" conservatives and their families.

And if we don't understand that, we won't know how to combat it. Here are some excerpts:

I live in Tennessee outside Nashville, a very deep-red part of America. According to a New York Times tool that calculates the political composition of a community, only 15 percent of my neighbors are Democrats. I’ve been living here in the heart of MAGA country since Donald Trump came down the escalator. This is the world of my friends, my neighbors and many members of my family. That is perhaps why, when I’m asked what things are like now, eight years into the Trump era, I have a ready answer: Everything is normal until, suddenly, it’s not. And unless we can understand what’s normal and what’s not, we can’t truly understand why Trumpism endures. [...] It’s no coincidence that one of the most enduring cultural symbols of Trump’s 2020 campaign was the boat parade. To form battle lines behind Trump, the one man they believe can save America from total destruction, thousands of supporters in several states got in their MasterCrafts and had giant open-air water parties. Or take the Trump rally, the signature event of this political era. If you follow the rallies via Twitter or mainstream newscasts, you see the anger, but you miss the fun. When I was writing for The Dispatch, one of the best pieces we published was a report by Andrew Egger in 2020 about the “Front Row Joes,” the Trump superfans who follow Trump from rally to rally the way some people used to follow the Grateful Dead. Egger described the Trump rally perfectly: “For enthusiasts, Trump rallies aren’t just a way to see a favorite politician up close. They are major life events: festive opportunities to get together with like-minded folks and just go crazy about America and all the winning the Trump administration’s doing.”

[See more below the cut]

[...] Why do none of your arguments against Trump penetrate this mind-set? The Trumpists have an easy answer: You’re horrible, and no one should listen to horrible people. Why were Trumpists so vulnerable to insane stolen-election theories? Because they know that you’re horrible and that horrible people are capable of anything, including stealing an election. At the same time, their own joy and camaraderie insulates them against external critiques that focus on their anger and cruelty. Such charges ring hollow to Trump supporters, who can see firsthand the internal friendliness and good cheer that they experience when they get together with one another. They don’t feel angry — at least not most of the time. They are good, likable people who’ve just been provoked by a distant and alien “left” that many of them have never meaningfully encountered firsthand. Indeed, while countless gallons of ink have been spilled analyzing the MAGA movement’s rage, far too little has been spilled discussing its joy. Once you understand both dynamics, however, so much about the present moment makes clearer sense, including the dynamics of the Republican primary. Ron DeSantis, for example, channels all the rage of Trumpism and none of the joy. With relentless, grim determination he fights the left with every tool of government at his disposal. But can he lead stadiums full of people in an awkward dance to “Y.MC.A.” by the Village People? Will he be the subject of countless over-the-top memes and posters celebrating him as some kind of godlike, muscular superhero? [...] Trump’s fans, by contrast, don’t understand the effects of [the MAGA] fury because they mainly experience the joy. For them, the MAGA community is kind and welcoming. For them, supporting Trump is fun. Moreover, the MAGA movement is heavily clustered in the South, and Southerners see themselves as the nicest people in America. It feels false to them to be called “mean” or “cruel.” Cruel? No chance. In their minds, they’re the same people they’ve always been — it’s just that they finally understand how bad you are. And by “you,” again, they often mean the caricatures of people they’ve never met. In fact, they often don’t even know about the excesses of the Trump movement. Many of them will never know that their progressive neighbors have faced threats and intimidation. And even when they do see the movement at its worst, they can’t quite believe it. So Jan. 6 was a false flag. Or it was a “fedsurrection.” It couldn’t have really been a violent attempt to overthrow the elected government, because they know these people, or people like them, and they’re mostly good folks. It had to be a mistake, or an exaggeration, or a trick or a few bad apples. The real crime was the stolen election. It’s the combination of anger and joy that makes the MAGA enthusiasm so hard to break but also limits its breadth. [...] The battle and the booze cruise both give MAGA devotees a sense of belonging. They see a country that’s changing around them and they are uncertain about their place in it. But they know they have a place at a Trump rally, surrounded by others — overwhelmingly white, many evangelical — who feel the same way they do. [...] During the Trump years, I’ve received countless email messages from distraught readers that echo a similar theme: My father (or mother or uncle or cousin) is lost to MAGA. They can seem normal, but they’re not, at least not any longer. It’s hard for me to know what to say in response, but one thing is clear: You can’t replace something with nothing. And until we fully understand what that “something” is — and that it includes not only passionate anger but also very real joy and a deep sense of belonging — then our efforts to persuade are doomed to fail.

#maga america #rage and joy #understanding trump's appeal to his base #donald trump #gop #david french #the new york times

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thoroughlymodernminutia · 4 months

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This Christmas - Prequel

Pairing: Benny "Borracho" Magalon x F!Reader

Word count: 8,219

Summary: This is a prequel of sorts to this from last year. It’s basically the how Benny and the reader met, etc

Warnings: Mostly Hallmark-style fluffy stuff, lots of pining, but brief mention of loss, guilt, some foul language. If I missed anything else let me know and I'll add it in.

A/N: I don’t know folks, I started writing this and was really chugging along and had a whole plan for how I wanted this to be. Then I got sick with everyone’s favorite illness from 2020 and lost a lot steam. I found, I think, a happy compromise with myself because I wanted to post this before Christmas (self imposed deadlines am I right?) and realized I can always I don’t know, post more parts of it later?? I am my own worst critic so if you read this and it isn’t your jam, please don’t say anything lol I’ve probably already thought it, so it would be redundant! Also, clearly, I do not know the proper use of a semicolon, or an em dash and I don't have an editor, so we'll all just have to deal. Anyways, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, all that jazz

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It’s a little after six in the morning and they still haven’t rolled in. Usually, the five of them would have been here for an hour already; a few hungover, one still drunk, and the fifth one acting like an adult babysitter for the other four. It’s weird how this happens–people come into your little donut shop and after a while, instead of you becoming part of their routine, they become part of yours. Eventually they start to feel like stand-ins for the friends you hardly ever get to see. You’re busy with your business and they’re busy with their jobs and families.

It could feel lonely, but you have people like Noreen, who comes in every Friday to buy three dozen assorted donuts for her team. Noreen is kind and not the type of person you envision working at a private equity firm. When you were thinking about expanding into the small space next door, she looked at your plan and helped you figure out where you were being too aggressive and in some cases too shortsighted. She didn’t ask for anything in return, but you made sure her next three dozen donuts were on the house.

There’s Will, a retired teacher, who comes in every Sunday. He used to come in with his partner, Charles, and they would sit at the table you have set up near the front window. They traded off different sections of the newspaper while drinking their coffee and sharing one old-fashioned donut and one raspberry jelly donut; they never strayed from those. Charles passed away six months ago and it was unexpected. You didn’t expect to see Will for a while, but routine is hard to give up especially when it’s the only thing you have left. Every Sunday morning you set a 'reserved' sign on the table near the window.

There’s Stuart, who hangs out in the plaza your shop is located in. You’re not sure if he’s unhoused or just likes to spend his day outside, but it felt strange to always see him and not interact with him. One day you invited him to come by for coffee and a donut but he turned you down. You told him the offer was good for any time and that you hoped you’d see him in there soon. He came in a few days later and it made you feel like you were doing some good; and then you felt bad for feeling like that. Stuart’s reserved and not much of a talker so you just let him sit at a table while you go about your work. Some days he’ll start a conversation; it’s rare but it feels like you both trust each other enough to make more than small talk. If you don’t see him in his usual spot outside, you worry. He usually turns up a few days later, but you're concerned that at some point he won’t turn up and what are you supposed to do then?

There’s a handful of people that fall into this category of if they never came back you would notice. It’s because some of them are smart and kind like Noreen. Some because they sit in the same spot, newspaper sections still divided in two, like Will. Some because their silence fills your little shop, like Stuart. And some whose absence you would notice because they don’t fit into these boxes. Sometimes they can be loud or irritating; but they can also be entertaining. And they’re are always five of them, but only one that makes you feel like you’re thirteen and just saw your middle school crush.

They started coming in sometime in February. You only remember because the biggest one said he’s 'not eating a fucking, prissy, heart-shaped donut.' Some men are like that, afraid if they come in contact with something feminine that’s not a woman, that their dick will fall off. He was loud and obnoxious and only one of the other four looked truly embarrassed for the guy and for himself. He apologized for his friend and ordered five large coffees and a dozen glazed donuts.

“You sure glazed are going to be manly enough for your friend over there?”

You ticked your head over towards the table where his friends were sitting. He laughed and it was a surprisingly warm laugh for a man with neck tattoos.

“He won’t even remember being here, let alone what kind of donuts he ate.”

He sounded annoyed but used to the behavior. You remembered having friends like that, in your twenties, but you were well past that age and so were these guys by the look of it. You saw him eyeing an apple fritter so you grabbed it from the case, put it on a plate, and set it on the counter next to the box of donuts.

“On the house, since it doesn’t look like you’re getting paid for your babysitting duties.”

He smiled, said thank you, and then went to sit with his loud friends. You noticed he was quiet in comparison and thought it would be nice if they were all quiet like that.

When they were getting ready to leave you saw that the quiet one made sure all the trash was thrown away and all the dishes went into the right bin. At the door as they were leaving he gave you a small wave thanking you again. There was something about his smile that made it feel like flowers were blooming in your stomach. That feeling carried you for a week. You’d think of that moment of him at the door and a fog would enter your brain and the flowers in your stomach would grow larger.

The feeling would start to subside after a while and you would get caught up in your real life–your business, the rare time with your friends, the occasional bad date. It would slowly drift from the front of your mind to the back. Then they would show up and the cycle would continue.

The one who had the soft smile and neck tattoo, you learned his name was Benny. And that if you gave him a choice between the apple fritter and anything else, he would choose the apple fritter one hundred percent of the time. The loud drunk, that was Big Nick and he’s only been not drunk five percent of the time they’ve come in. There’s Connors, Zapata, and Henderson–you’ve only heard them referred to by their last names. A thing that you’ve only ever heard men do. They all come in once or twice a month–usually early, usually hungover. It makes you wonder what they do before they end up at your place. You never ask because to know would be to probably ruin your crush on Benny.

Benny always pays and there’s a part of you that hopes he’s doing it just for the chance to talk to you. When he leaves he always gives you a wave goodbye and a thanks again. The flowers in your stomach have bloomed and blossomed to an embarrassing degree by the end of May. And that’s when they stopped coming in.

—-

Benny shakes his head no at Connor’s who’s trying to hand him a beer, “Not feeling it tonight.”

Benny isn’t feeling it any night, but he keeps that to himself. The drinking, the cocaine, the women, none of it interests him and it hasn’t for a while. Since February if he’s being honest with himself.

They had ended up at your donut shop, Glazy for You under random circumstances. The usual place they would go to sober up after one of these parties had been closed down by the health department. He should have known it was bound to happen, the place was dim and oddly seedy for a diner. Benny was the designated driver that night, since he hadn’t been feeling well he didn’t drink and spent most of the night ushering random women out of a grim motel room. When he saw Glazy for You as he was driving by, it looked like the complete opposite of his evening; it was bright, there were Valentine’s decorations on the window. It looked comforting and warm, two things he felt like he was missing in his life.

Nick of course was an asshole and Benny felt like he spent a lot of time silently apologizing to you. His apologies must have entered you mind telepathically because you gave him an apple fritter–the best apple fritter he’s ever had in his whole fucking life. There must have been some kind of magic in because that moment lodged itself somewhere in his heart and reappears when he’s feeling low. Like now–sitting in this motel room, on this couch that probably hasn’t been cleaned in two decades, watching his friends lose their fucking minds over shit they should have outgrown.

Benny hasn’t seen you in months, ninety-seven days to be exact, not that he’s counting. They’ve been working on one case after the next and it’s left time for little else. No post drug test parties, no early mornings sitting in a donut shop waiting for everyone to sober up, no you. It’s been sleep and work for three months straight. Last time he saw you, it seemed like you were happy to see him. Maybe he imagined that feeling; misunderstood the warmth in your smile. Maybe that’s the smile that you’ve practiced in order to be able to perform it for everyone. Maybe everyone feels what he feels when they see you.

Benny sinks further into the couch and looks up at the ceiling. It’s a drop ceiling which brings back memories of a case he had worked on. While securing a crime scene, they were in the living room of a run down apartment. It had this same type of ceiling and a body fell right through it onto the floor. He thinks that maybe this is how it ended up being called a drop ceiling, because shit just drops right out. That thought, that memory makes him realize that he doesn’t want to be in this room anymore. He gets up, grabs his jacket off the back of the couch, and leaves. He hears Connors call after him as he’s closing the door but he doesn’t care. He only has one place that he wants to be right now.

—-

You’re putting a tray of bear claws in the display case when you hear the door open. It’s still early, the sun is barely up, pink and purple hues are still in the sky. You get a lot of municipal workers that come in at this time, barely past opening. So it’s a little bit of a surprise when you get a glimpse through the display case of Benny walking in, alone.

There’s a second while you’re crouched down, adjusting the tray that you let yourself be excited; allow yourself to give into the childish feeling of getting a glimpse of your crush. Your knees are wobbly as you stand up–unsure if it’s because you’re getting old or because he’s looking right at you.

“Oh hey, how’ve you been?” You wipe your palms on the front of the apron you’re wearing. “It’s been a while.”

You try to sound neutral, neither excited to see him or disappointed that it's been so long. He smiles and that familiar sensation of flowers blooming returns.

“We’ve been working on a lot of cases and it’s been hard to find time for anything else.”

You lean forward and rest your arms on top of the bakery case.

“Cases? You guys are lawyers?” As the words leave your mouth you realize how truly stupid it sounds. You’ve never in your life seen any lawyers that look like these guys.

Benny chuckles and rubs the back of his neck, something he does when feels embarrassed or self conscious.

“No, definitely not lawyers. Detectives. We work for the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Department.”

You fail at suppressing a laugh, “I’m sorry. All of you are detectives? Even your friend Nick?”

Benny knows your laugh isn’t mean spirited and if he were you, he’d probably laugh too, knowing what he knows about the people he works with. He moves closer to display case and leans in.

“Even Nick. You seem surprised.”

“It’s just. I.” You pause, trying to choose your words with care, because you like Benny and you don’t want to insult him, “I mean, it’s hard to imagine being a victim of a crime or something and like Nick is the person taking your statement, trying to help you. That is my nightmare.”

You hope you don’t sound like an asshole, but the idea of Nick serving and protecting seems like a stretch. If you offend Benny, he doesn’t show it, he just laughs.

“The way that you’ve seen him, I can understand the sentiment. He’s not like that a hundred percent of the time. I promise.”

You give Benny a joking look, “Okay, but what percentage are we talking here?”

You’re both laughing when the rest of the guys walk in. The rowdiness is a shock to your system after not dealing with it for a while. You look at Benny and he’s no longer leaning in towards you and maybe you’re projecting, but you think he looks a little disappointed too.

Benny’s disappointed, but he tries his best to hide it. The guys may be drunk, but they are cops and they are perceptive. Benny already knows he has a reputation among them as being soft. It used to bother him, but it hasn’t for a while. He knows he would rather be soft than be the type of man that can’t feel anything other than bitterness and rage.

“Borracho, you fucking asshole, you left us.”

Nick, is of course loud and slurring his words. Benny hopes you can’t understand Spanish–he doesn’t want to be known as a ‘drunk’ to you.

Benny turns from you to look at the guys. Connors is propping Nick up; Henderson and Zapata are stumbling towards a table.

“I was hungry.”

Benny hopes it’s enough to shut Nick up. He knows it’s not because he sees Nick loosen himself from Connors and stumble towards him. He claps a large, drunk hand on Benny’s shoulder and the force almost knocks him backwards.

“Fuck, Borracho. You’re no fun anymore.”

Nick is a mess and that’s not really that surprising to you. What is surprising is how uncomfortable Benny looks. He has the look of a man who would give anything to disappear. You can’t really blame him, these guys, Nick especially, are exhausting to be around and you only deal with them for a few hours a month.

“Can I get you guys something or are you just going to loiter?”

Benny looks towards you and you give him a sympathetic smile. He shakes Nick off of him and is about to order when Nick lurchers towards the counter that you’re standing behind. You step back as he unsuccessfully tries to paw at you.

“I know what you can get me, sweetheart.”

Benny groans and runs a hand over his face, “Jesus Christ, Nick. Shut the fuck up.”

You step closer to the counter and lean forward, putting a hand on Nick’s shoulder.

“What did I tell you about calling me ‘sweetheart’?”

Nick tilts his head to the side and mutters, “That the next time I do it, you’ll put my head in the deep fryer.”

You pat his shoulder, “Good, you remember.”

You hear Zapata, Henderson, and Connors–who’s joined them at their table laughing and chanting do it, do it.

You gently push Nick away from the counter, “Go sit down unless you’re willing to see if I’m serious.” You look over at Benny, who no longer looks like he wants to disappear. “Benny, five coffees and a dozen glazed, right?”

Benny nods his head, “Yeah, that’s good.”

Nick turns around and starts walking towards where Connors, Zapata, and Henderson are sitting. He jerks his thumb back towards you, “She’s no fun either.”

Benny feels awkward standing here, watching you gingerly place twelve glazed donuts in a box and then pour five large coffees. It’s calming though, watching you do routine things, like you’re slowly rooting out the anxiety of being around drunk idiots. You put the coffees in a tray and place it down on the counter next to the donuts.

Benny pulls out his wallet to pay, “Uh, sorry,” he pauses, he’s sorry about a lot suddenly, “sorry about Nick. He was acting like an asshole.”

You shrug and hand Benny his change, “Don’t worry about it.”

Benny is sitting with the guys and can’t help feeling like he’s messed something up. You didn’t give him an apple fritter like you normally do. He wonders if you’re mad that he didn’t do something more when Nick was acting like an asshole. Maybe he’s overthinking it–he can’t expect you to give him a free donut every time you see him. It’s possible he’s misread the situation entirely, that you’re just friendly and nothing more. He watches you behind the counter adjusting things, bagging up donuts for customers that have come in. When Benny checks his watch for the time, he misses seeing you slip an apple fritter in a bag and write 'Benny' in a tidy script.

You watch the guys start filtering out of your place; Nick and Connors are first and from the store window you can see them getting into separate cabs. Benny is still throwing trash away as Henderson and Zapata leave. They share a cab and you imagine that maybe they rallied enough to start drinking again at 7:30am. You see Benny heading towards the door and it looks like he’s leaving without giving his usual wave goodbye. Your stomach sinks a little–maybe he’s mad at you for not joking around more with Nick or the other guys. Or it could just be that he’s tired and wants to go home and you’re creating feelings that aren’t there.

You grab the bag with the apple fritter from below the counter and hold it up, “Hey, you forgot something.”

Benny looks at the bag with his name on it–it’s the nicest handwriting he’s ever seen. He walks over to the counter and takes the bag from your hand, your fingers overlapping for a fraction of a second.

“So this means you’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you? Wait, you think because of Nick?” You look at him strangely as he nods his head yes, “He’s the idiot, I’m not going to hold that against you.”

Benny smiles, “That’s good to know.” He starts walking away, but stops when he gets to the door, holding up the bag with the donut, “Thanks again. I’ll see you later.”

“Take care, Benny.”

—-

“You like that girl at the donut place?”

It sounds less like Connors is asking you a question and more like stating a fact. Benny’s a little caught off guard and pretends to start looking for something on his desk.

“What?”

Benny tries to sound confused, like he’s never even heard the word donut before.

“At the donut place. The girl who runs it, are you into her or something? You always act fucking weird when we’re in there.”

Benny thinks back to all the times they’ve been at Glazy for You, trying to remember his behavior. Did he look at you for too long? Say ‘goodbye’ in a way that sounded like he didn’t want to leave. Benny opens the bottom drawer of his desk and pretends to look for something.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Benny knows he doesn’t sound convincing and Connors must hear it too because he keeps going.

“Really?” Connors sounds incredulous. “You’re always lingering at the counter. She’s always giving you free donuts. Any of this ringing a bell for you?”

Benny can feel Connors staring at him. He closes the desk drawer and goes back to looking at the file on his desk.

“Maybe she likes giving away free donuts. I really couldn’t tell you.”

Connors crumbles a piece of paper into a ball and lobs it at Benny’s head, hitting him just behind the ear.

“Whatever you say asshole.”

—-

The summer goes by quickly–it’s one of your busier seasons. School is out, the weather is nice–there are day camps, company off-sites, and sleepovers. All the types of occasions where the people in charge don’t want to make breakfast but need to provide it. Benny and the guys come in a few times throughout the summer. It feels a little different from before. Benny doesn’t linger at the counter as much anymore and sometimes one of the other guys pays. It’s stupid little things that you shouldn’t notice, but you do, because they used to be part of your routine. It’s embarrassing thinking you let this crush on Benny become such a big part of your life that you’d notice he didn’t pay last time or the time before that. It’s that embarrassment that makes you start building a wall around that garden in your stomach so the flowers can’t reach your heart.

It’s the end of October when you’re opening up one morning and it registers for you that you haven’t seen Stuart since some time around June or July. His absence gnaws at you. You feel like a bad person for not noticing sooner; that feeling that you failed someone even though they weren’t your responsibility. You don’t know what to do or if there’s anything you actually can do. So when you see Benny a few weeks later it feels like a little bit of a last resort when you ask for his help.

—-

You were hoping that Benny would be the person paying this time when they all came in, so you could mention Stuart without having to pull him aside. But he doesn’t and it makes you a little anxious trying to figure out the best way to talk to him about something serious. So it’s a relief when it looks like he’s going to be the last one to leave. He’s behind Connors and when Connors makes it out the door, you stop Benny who’s close behind.

“Benny, hey. Do you have a second?”

You come out from behind the counter, nervously smoothing the apron tied around your waist in short downward strokes. Benny stops and lets the door go from his hand. You look upset and he hopes it’s not because he’s been acting standoffish lately. Ever since Connors asked about you, he’s been trying his best to act normal–whatever that means–around you.

“Did Connors’s card get declined again?”

You let out a small laugh, “No. Um, I was actually wondering if you could help me with something.”

Benny steps a little closer to you. You have some powdered sugar on your cheek and he has to stop himself from brushing it off.

“Yeah, of course. What’s going on?”

“This is probably going to sound weird, or stupid. Maybe both. But there’s this guy who h—”

Benny cuts you off; his voice is a little rougher, “If someone is bothering you, I’ll take care of it.”

You laugh awkwardly, “Oh no, it’s nothing like that. It’s this guy, Stuart. He usually hangs out around here and I have him come in sometimes for coffee or donuts and I haven’t seen him in…since maybe July, I think? I’m just a little worried.” You pause and try to read Benny’s face to see what he’s thinking, “Sorry, this probably sounds stupid to you. I don’t even know what I’m asking.”

Benny scratches his jaw piecing together what he thinks you’re getting at, “Do you know his last name?”

You notice that Benny’s voice has gone back to the soft tone that you’re used to. He’s looking at you with compassion and not like you’re stupid or some kind of burden. Benny is the kind of person that you would want helping you in a crisis and it makes you wish there were more people like him in his line of work.

“I don’t, but I printed a photo from the security camera I have.” You walk over to the counter and lean over, grabbing the photo from under the register. “I don’t even know if you can do anything with that. I watch a lot of crime shows. Don’t judge me.”

Benny laughs and shakes his head as you hand him the photo.

“I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Yeah of course. It’s…I don’t know. I’d feel like a bad person if something were to happen to him and I could have helped.”

Benny feels bad because he knows how these things generally end up. Usually there are no happy endings.

“You can’t put that on yourself.”

You nod your head, “I know, but still, you know?”

Benny understands the feeling and also understands it’s easier to tell someone something isn’t their fault than to know it yourself.

As Benny leaves you start to feel a bit lighter. Like someone has taken some of your worry, some of your concern and is carrying it for you; so you aren’t so weighed down.

—-

“What was that about?”

Benny is surprised to see Connors waiting for him in the parking lot.

“Nothing. Well, I guess there’s some guy, homeless, I don’t know. He usually hangs out around here. She hasn’t seen him for a while. She’s worried.”

Connors flicks a cigarette on to the pavement, “Figures she’s one of those bleeding heart types. What did you tell her?”

Benny pats his jacket and then his pants pockets feeling around for a pack of cigarettes, forgetting briefly that he’s trying to quit. Connors pulls his pack from his pocket and tosses them to Benny.

Benny pulls a cigarette out, “I told her I’d look into it.”

Connors laughs and hands Benny a lighter, “Chump.” He waits a beat for Benny to light his cigarette, “But, if you want. We can start looking into it now.”

Benny’s grateful it’s Connors out here and not one of the other guys. Benny and Connors go back further than just Major Crimes and he’s someone Benny would trust with his life.

—-

Benny’s worried that he’s going to have to deliver you bad news. Best case scenario seems like Stuart is in jail. Not great, but it would mean that he’s alive. Worst case scenario is that he can’t find Stuart and that usually doesn’t mean anything good. Benny is suddenly hoping for some kind of miracle for a person he doesn’t even know.

The photo you gave him does turn out to be useful. Connors is able to find him in the system through facial recognition. Stuart Morton has a record; a few arrests for driving while under the influence and some time in a county jail. Benny is able to get a last known address but it’s over a year old. It’s a sober living house that’s not actually that far from Glazy for You. He doesn’t have much hope that going there will bring him any closer to finding Stuart.

It takes a couple of weeks, but Benny is finally able to meet with David, the director of the sober living facility. He finds it’s better to meet with people in person. Talking with people over the phone, he’s learned, makes it easier for them to not give you the information you need. David of course is a little guarded at first with Benny; not wanting to share anything that could get Stuart in trouble, which Benny can’t really fault him for. Benny explains the situation, that the owner of a donut shop near here is worried because they haven’t seen him in a while. When Benny mentions your name to David, he lights up.

“Her glazed old fashioneds are the best ones in this entire state.” He pauses and to Benny it looks like he’s getting lost in the memory of a donut, a feeling he knows well.

“I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

David turns away from Benny to look through a drawer in a filing cabinet, “Just this year we got to talking and she’s been generous enough to donate breakfast here every month. And recently she’s been working with us on a job training program at her bakery.”

Benny thinks back to Connors calling you a ‘bleeding heart’ and is glad he came here by himself.

“She didn’t mention anything about knowing Stuart lived here.”

David pulls a folder from the cabinet and thumbs through it, “Stuart is the type to not overshare, so that doesn’t surprise me.” He pauses to write something down on a piece of paper and hands it to Benny, “Here. This is his sister Noreen’s information. When he left, he was going to be staying with her for a while. Might still be there.”

Benny barely makes it to his car before calling the number that David gave him.

—-

“Wait, so you’re saying that Noreen, the Noreen that comes in here, is Stuart’s sister?”

It’s late in the day, near the time that you close up. You and Benny are sitting across from each other at the table near the window. It’s hard to believe what he’s telling you, that Stuart used to be a resident at the sober living facility, the one where David works; that Noreen is Stuart’s sister and somehow all these dots never got connected for you.

“She didn’t realize that you two were,” Benny pauses looking for the right word, “friends. She feels terrible that you didn’t know he had moved out of the state and were worried. She said he’s doing well.”

You’re quiet for a moment, trying to take in everything Benny has been telling you. It’s a lot to process, considering you had been preparing yourself to hear bad news. You can feel your eyes fuzzy with a few tears and feel a little embarrassed to be getting so emotional over the good news.

“It’s such a relief to know that he’s doing okay.” You feel a tear slide down your cheek and quickly brush it away hoping that Benny didn’t see it.

Benny can tell you’re trying to keep yourself from crying and he wants to tell you that it’s okay, that there wouldn’t be any judgment from him. He has the overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around you, but he knows it would be wildly inappropriate. He feels awkward sitting here, looking around, trying to figure out what he should say.

“I like the Christmas decorations you have up.” It’s lame and he knows it, but it seems better than freaking you out with a hug. You smile at him and that feels reassuring.

“You do?” You look over at Benny, nodding his head, “I know it makes me basic, but I love Christmas. The lights, the decorations, the movies, the music. Expect to see a lot of green and red frosted donuts until December 31st.”

Benny laughs, “I’m looking forward to it.” He looks at his watch and starts to get up, “I should probably leave, so you can close up.”

You get up and follow Benny to the door, you put your hand on Benny’s forearm to stop him for a second and he feels a little spark through this jacket.

“Thank you, again, for everything.”

“I’m glad I could help. And that everything turned out okay.”

You’re not sure what it is that compels you to hug him, but you do. Maybe it’s the gentleness of his voice, or how he’s looking at you in a way he hasn’t before. It feels intimate and dreamy and it’s hard for you to recall the last time anyone has looked at you like that. It happens so fast that Benny barely has time to register what happened.

It hits him as he’s walking to his car–the delayed feeling of your arms around him. It strikes Benny that maybe there’s a chance you like him, that maybe you’re both kind of stupid and clumsy, and afraid to ask the other one out. There’s the realization that one of you will have to make the first move or it will go on like this forever. That he will see you every few months at your job, that he’ll get a free donut occasionally. It’s not enough for Benny and he knows that he can’t be stupid about this much longer.

—-

It’s the last piss test party of the year–the week before Christmas. The concept is idiotic–sure it made sense at one point when Benny wasn’t wading into the deep end of forty. Going to a cheap hotel to get drunk and high, have sex with women that Nick found God knows where. It was never appealing to Benny but he used to understand the idea of celebrating after your mandatory drug test. Now he usually just sits, drinks a beer or two, and tries to avoid contact with everyone. There’s something especially depressing about it during this time of year.

Benny’s spent the last few days mulling over the best way to ask you out. He regrets not asking you when he was giving you the news about Stuart. Although there’s a part of him that thinks maybe you would have felt obligated to say yes given the circumstances. He thinks about asking you tonight, if they end up there, but he doesn’t want to do it in front of the guys because you might feel obligated then too, maybe even feeling sorry for him and not wanting to embarrass him in front of everyone by saying no. If you say yes, he wants it to be because you actually mean it, he doesn’t want there to be any room for doubt.

His decision is made for him, because when they get to Glazy for You, you aren’t there. Benny can’t remember if there’s ever been a time when you haven’t been there, behind the counter, greeting him warmly. It’s a little bit of a shock to his system to see a middle-aged man in a goofy Christmas sweater in your place. Benny’s good at thinking up doomsday scenarios and imagines one in which you’re trying to avoid him, so you no longer work this early in the morning. But then he thinks of when you hugged him and that even though it was quick, it was like your touch had gone directly to his heart. He doesn’t stay much longer, opting to go home, lay in his bed, and try to figure out what he’s going to do.

—-

You used to hate working during the holidays. Maybe it’s because you were working for other people and not yourself. Maybe it was because the work you were doing felt unimportant and people expected you to care even when everything else around you was winding down. Five years ago the thought of working on Christmas Eve would have made you want to walk into traffic. Now it feels different, like maybe you’re contributing to the holiday experience versus missing out on it entirely. You’ve always loved Christmas, but Christmas Eve is your favorite day of the year. It just feels more special somehow. There’s anticipation and excitement in the air. It’s possible it’s a product of all the Christmas movies you’ve watched over the years where there’s the idea that anything seems possible on this day. There’s something about the idea of your life changing for the better, surrounded by twinkle lights and ornaments that you find very appealing.

The morning is kind of slow–you spend most of it watching holiday episodes of tv shows on your phone. Around 11am you start cleaning up–taking trays out of cases, boxing up the donuts that are left to drop off at the comic book shop next door. You’re looking forward to going home and laying on the couch the rest of the day, queuing up your standard Christmas Eve movies. You’re ready to watch Scrooged and feel abnormally homesick, but then put on Christmas Vacation and remember why it’s never a good idea to spend Christmas with your entire family.

You’re in the back when you hear the bell on the door jingle, letting you know someone is out front. You consider just staying where you are, pretending no one is here so you can wrap up your day. You don’t want to have to tell anyone that you can’t help them with their donut emergency–getting yelled at on Christmas Eve is not something you’ve prepared yourself for today. So it’s a pleasant surprise when you make your way back out to the front and you see Benny.

“Hey, this is a—hi.” You’re not sure why you’re suddenly unable to put together a decent sentence.

Benny rubs the back of his neck with his hand, “Is this a bad time?”

“No. No, well. I mean, unless you were looking for a few dozen donuts. Then it definitely is.”

Benny smiles, “Actually, I, um, was,” he pauses and tries to collect himself, he can suddenly feel his heart beating in his ears, “I wanted to ask you out. On a date.” The feeling has spread to his skull.

When he says it, it’s almost like the words traveled through your brain and you can’t comprehend what’s actually happening. Benny, the guy you’ve been harboring your fragile middle school crush on, is here asking you out. It makes little, if any sense to you.

“Are you just trying to get more free donuts?”

Benny shakes his head no, “I promise I’m not.”

You’re quiet as you consider what he’s asked–trying to reprocess the information in your mind so that it makes sense. When all the words are finally in place and you repeat them in your mind, you feel some of those flowers that you’d walled up in your stomach starting to push through the cracks.

“Yeah, okay.” You grab a business card from the counter, write your number on the back, and hand it to Benny.

Benny’s not sure he’s ever heard anything better than yeah, okay in his life, it’s like a bolt of lightning right to his core. He puts the card with your number in the chest pocket of his jacket, the safest place he can think of.

“Great. Amazing.” Benny laughs nervously. “I need to get back to work. I’ll text you.”

“Okay. Well, have a good Christmas, Benny.”

“You too.”

Benny gives his standard small wave as he leaves and you lock the door after him. When he’s out of sight you let out a squeal and excitedly dance in place. Your phone vibrating in your back pocket interrupts you mid-happy dance.

Hey, it’s Benny. Are you free for dinner on the 27th at 7?

Benny watches dots appear and then disappear on his phone. It feels a little bit like torture as he sits in his truck waiting for you to respond.

Dinner on the 27th at 7 sounds great

Benny releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, Let me think of a place and I’ll text you the address

Sounds good. And you meant Dec 27th right?

Benny laughs to himself, Yes dec 27. I’m not going to wait until jan to take you to dinner

Just making sure 🙂

You read his last text at least ten more times before finally going back into the kitchen like you had intended. Each time you read it, there’s a sensation in your stomach like bricks dissolving and flowers blooming again.

—-

Benny texts you on the morning of the 26th with a restaurant name and an address. You already have the sense that he’s different, the type of person who has follow-through. You try to temper your excitement about dinner with him, not wanting to do that thing you sometimes do where you make something out to be more than it is. You keep telling yourself that it’s just dinner, nothing more. But as you pull up to the restaurant a few minutes late and see Benny standing outside, looking nervous in dark denim and a green flannel, you let yourself think that maybe it could be a little more than just dinner.

“Sorry I’m a little late, I hope you weren’t waiting long?”

Benny smiles when he sees you standing in front of him, “I just got here a few minutes ago.”

It’s a lie; the last one he’ll tell tonight; but he doesn’t want you to know that he was so amped up about this evening that he got to the restaurant thirty minutes early. On the way in, when you pass in front of him, your perfume delicately floats by him. It’s earthy, but slightly sweet, with cinnamon and vanilla blending neatly in–he’s sure it’s the most beautiful thing that he’s ever smelled.

It’s a French restaurant, one that you’ve never been to before, but it’s cozy and still in the Christmas spirit. There are multicolored lights strung up and silver tinsel hanging from the ceiling.

“Have you been here before?” Looking at Benny from across the table and you can see flecks of silver in his facial hair catching the light of the candle on the table.

“My sister and her husband had their tenth anniversary party here last year. Most of my restaurant choices come from wherever she has an anniversary party.”

You laugh, “Nice. Do you just have the one sister?”

Benny has just the one sister, you learn, among other things. You find talking to Benny is easy, he doesn’t give one word answers to questions like some men you’ve gone out with. Where trying to get to know them is like trying to get to know a slab of pavement. He’s funnier than you thought, something that you didn’t expect, but is a nice surprise.

“Did you always want to be a detective?”

Benny butters a piece of bread, “To be honest, the only thing I wanted to be growing up was a magician. I guess I saw one too many David Copperfield specials as a kid.”

You start laughing, “Do you know any magic tricks?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know. What about you?”

“I don’t know any, no.” You shrug jokingly as Benny laughs. “But, yeah, I guess I’m doing what I’ve always wanted to be doing. I’m lucky that things have worked out how they have.”

Benny’s curious now, “You didn’t always work in a bakery?”

“Nope. I actually used to work in tech. It’s kind of a long story.”

“Well, I’m not in any hurry to end the evening.”

There’s something about Benny that puts you at ease, that makes you comfortable enough to want to open up to him. Something that you would never normally consider doing on a first date. You don’t feel the need to downplay that you made a lot of money when a company you worked for in New York was bought out. He doesn’t flinch when you tell him that the reason you moved to California was because of your now ex-husband. He tells you about his own divorce and for the first time in a long time you don’t feel so unlike yourself on a first date. It doesn’t feel scary telling him that you felt insignificant in your own life because of your work and your marriage. That every conversation with your husband made you feel like a burden.There’s a moment when you start to apologize, out of habit, but he stops you. He smiles when you say that the divorce was the best thing to happen to you because it–and you hate to say it like this–gave you your power back.

“I always wanted to own my own business and I love donuts, so when the divorce happened, I just said fuck it, and went for it. Just threw myself into it.”

“I’m glad you did, I don’t know where else I’d get an apple fritter that good. And for free.”

“Yeah, about that.” You smile playfully, “I’m going to have to start charging you before you put me out of business.”

Benny makes a show of looking at his watch, pretending to want to leave, “I guess we should probably call it an evening then?”

He likes the way you laugh, how it’s kind of loud and fills the room. It makes him feel good, to hear you laugh, to see you smile; like he’s responsible for some bit of happiness you’re experiencing.

“See, I knew this was a scam.”

As the waiter clears the table and they wait for the check, Benny asks you what your favorite donut is.

You don’t even have to think about it, “Definitely a maple bar.”

Benny watches as your eyes light up, telling him how you first had one when you spent the summer between fifth and sixth grade visiting your aunt in Seattle. He listens to you describe how your mom was, in the nicest terms you can find, an extreme dieter, who tried her best to pass all of her food issues down to you, and never let donuts in the house. But your aunt didn’t care and the first thing she did once she would pick you up from the airport was take you to her favorite bakery. It was the highlight of every summer after that until you graduated high school. It was the first donut you learned how to make because on the east coast they’re hard to find. You laugh when you say the best part of moving to the west coast is that every donut place has maple bars, but you’d like to think that yours are the best. Benny can’t help but think it’s cute.

Benny doesn’t want the night to end; he knows that you took a cab to the restaurant so he offers to drive you home. You try not to sound too eager in accepting his offer, but fail.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

You ask him if he wants you to put your address into google maps for directions, but he doesn’t need them. Benny spends so much time driving all over the city that he knows every street, every highway, every interstate. The map exists in his head; he can get anywhere without really having to think about it. Benny drives you through some unfamiliar, but beautiful neighborhoods. The homes are still decorated and lit up, it’s like driving through the set of a Christmas movie–the only thing missing is snow.

You ask him more about his job, the guys he works with. You like hearing the stories that Benny has about them. You can tell by the way he talks about him, that he’s closest with Connors. You finally learn everyone’s first names and how Benny got his nickname–which you had previously googled out of curiosity. You ask if it bothers him to be called a drunk.

“Knowing the shit they all get into, not really.”

He says that it doesn’t matter what they call him because he knows that in any situation they’ll have his back and he’ll have theirs. That’s what he cares about.

When he pulls up to your house; a small, one-story home, string lights along the frame and around the windows; it looks exactly like he’d imagined. You both sit quietly for a few minutes unsure what to do next.

Eventually you unbuckle your seatbelt, “I had a really good time tonight, Benny.”

“Me too. Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.” he looks over at you, “protect and serve, you know.” Benny knows it’s a dumb joke, but you laugh anyway.

When you get to the top of your steps, you find it hard to say goodbye. His face is illuminated by the Christmas lights and you can tell he doesn’t want to say goodbye either. You start to say something, you’re not even sure what, but no words come out because Benny’s mouth is on yours, his hands gently cradling your face. His lips are soft and you can feel the warmth of his tongue asking for permission. You drop your keys onto the porch and pull him closer to you by his belt loops.

It feels like hours have passed when Benny finally pulls away, “Sorry. I’ve been wanting to do that for months.”

You rest your hands on his chest, “Next time,” you gently tug on his shirt collar, “don’t wait so long.”

Benny smiles as he watches you crouch down to pick up the keys you dropped. When you stand back up, he reaches towards your face, his fingers grazing behind your ear, “Hold on, you have something in your—” Benny sweeps his fingers against your hair and when he brings his hand in front of you, he’s holding a small, folded piece of paper.

You take it from him, unfolding it. When you see the words ‘what are you doing for new years?’ written down you start grinning, “So you do still know some magic tricks.”

Benny places his hand on your neck, his thumb stroking your cheek, “A few.”

#benny magalon x reader #benny magalon x f!reader #benny borracho magalon x reader #benny borracho magalon x f!reader #borracho magalon x reader #den of thieves fic #christmas fic #holiday fic #this christmas fic

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