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#or Dominican I don’t care
tiredfox64 · 21 days
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My headcanon for Mavado
Prior notes: none get in the car now!
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HE IS GUATEMALAN! PLEASE! JUST GIVE US THIS!
RAAAAAHHHH 🇬🇹🇬🇹🇬🇹🇬🇹🦜🦜🦜🦜
SCREW IT YOU CAN EVEN MAKE HIM DOMINICAN JUST PLEASE GIVE US HIM! 🇩🇴🇩🇴🇩🇴🇩🇴🇩🇴
I WILL THROW UP IM NOT PLAYING GAMES WITH THIS MAN!
AHHHHHHHH
SHAKING AND SCREAMING! LITERALLY MADE A REDDIT POST ABOUT HIM
After notes: so how yall doing today I’m feeling…
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37 notes · View notes
optimisticaudience · 10 months
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Sound of Freedom, Operation Underground Railroad, and Tim Ballard are frauds who hurt the people who fight actual human trafficking.
Talk to anyone who fights real trafficking, they will tell you what is wrong with Ballard. To start with, he used to fight child sexual exploitation as a federal agent but he quit to act as a vigilante. Here is the short version of how OUR works: they go into a foreign country and throw money around until a pimp approaches them. They then tell the pimp they want children, and ask the pimp to bring kids to a secondary location. Then they call the cops, have the police arrest the pimps, streams the arrest on FaceTime for a high tier donor, and then go home. If you don’t get what’s wrong with this let me explain: OUR raises the demand for child sex slaves. A mommy blogger who Ballard brought along wrote an entire article about her experience. He says his team is all sorts of CIA agents and SEALs, but apparently moms from Utah are more reflective. It turns out some of the kids were trafficked for the first time FOR Ballard. He waved money and encouraged that trafficking. Afterwards, he left the country with a handshake promise that the kids would be cared for by the police. He will say the kids got aftercare, but evidence says otherwise.
But maybe that’s not enough for you?
He hired a psychic in Utah to tell him where a child was in the Dominican Republic. He flew a team as well as that child’s father down to the town the psychic indicated and found nothing other than locals scared of the American paramilitary vigilantes who were asking for children.
He and a sister organization said they were evacuating people from Afghanistan. No one has found any evidence to prove that.
He has claimed OUR saved a 12 year old girl from slavery. Then, she was 11. Then it turned out she saved herself a decade ago without his help and they want to get credit for rescuing her.
He claimed to be partnered with American Airlines, who have no idea what he is talking about.
So what actually DOES Ballard do?
He campaigns against drag queens
Promotes Qanon/Wayfair conspiracies
Cast the actor who played Jesus to play himself in his own movie. (The actor actively campaigns on blood libel Q conspiracies)
But beyond all that, just remember the movie isn’t donating to anti trafficking causes. It’s just asking you to buy more tickets to juice the numbers.
Donate to your local shelter. Most trafficking victims are trafficked by loved ones or people close to them. The victims need all the help they can get.
And another thing: People are conflating criticism of this film with apologia for child trafficking. I keep seeing posts say it will “Raise Awareness,” despite it being an incorrect portrayal. If that’s true, then Die Hard is raising awareness about bank robbers.
Here’s an idea: watch or read ANYTHING from real survivors of trafficking.
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zepskies · 9 months
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Devour Me - Part 2
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 
Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)
AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1
Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭
Word Count: 5,400
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.
☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist
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Part 2: "Telenovela Style"
Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.
Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 
Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 
No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.
Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 
When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 
He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 
“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.
“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”
In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 
Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.
The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 
By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 
Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 
You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.
The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 
He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 
You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 
You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son was dead. 
Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 
“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 
Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”
Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 
“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 
You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.
“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 
“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 
Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 
“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”
His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.
“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”
Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 
“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 
You truly become incensed at that. 
“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres, coño. Sigue jodiendo conmigo. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”
Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.
“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 
You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.
“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?
You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 
Dean calls your name in frustration. 
“What?” you hiss. 
The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 
You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 
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Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.
You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.
After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 
You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.
What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 
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That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 
Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 
You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 
He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.
So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 
He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.
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In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 
What the fuck?
After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 
“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 
Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.
At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.
He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.
“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 
It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 
Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 
“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 
Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”
You give him a wry look.
“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 
But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 
You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  
Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.
He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.
“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”
You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 
“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 
“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 
“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”
You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.
“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”
…That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 
Dangerous, for both of us.
You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 
And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 
“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 
“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 
Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.
“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”
You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.
“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 
The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 
It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 
More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”
He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 
Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.
You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”
Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”
“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 
“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 
“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 
“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”
Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”
You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.
“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  
But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 
Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 
“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.
It’s then that you know you’ve won.
So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 
You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  
Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 
“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.
“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”
Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 
When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”
A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.
But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  
“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.
“What’s this one?” Dean asks.
“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 
This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 
“What does it mean?” he asks.
You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”
Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 
You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 
“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”
Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.
As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.
“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”
Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 
You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 
“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 
You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”
You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 
He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.
“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”
You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 
“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.
“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 
You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 
You stop him with your finger on his lips.
“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 
“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 
“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”
Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”
You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 
You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 
After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 
Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.
He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  
A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 
“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.
So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 
And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 
A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.
He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.
You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.
Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)
You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 
“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 
“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.
Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.
Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 
“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 
You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 
“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”
Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 
Oh, fuck yeah. 
A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 
Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 
Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.
Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 
So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.
And suddenly, he blinks them open again.
“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 
You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 
He shudders and gasps for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 
You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 
Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.
“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 
He’s still struggling for breath. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 
“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”
He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  
“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”
A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 
“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.
Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...
“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.
It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.
Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.
“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 
Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”
A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”
At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.
“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”
Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 
Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.
You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 
“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 
His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 
“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”
You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.
But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 
“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”
When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  
So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  
However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 
It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 
“Damn it, Dean!”
You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 
“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”
Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”
“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 
Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 
But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 
When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.
Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.
I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 
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AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️
Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:
(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)
[During their fight]: 
“Que sin vergüenza tú eres, coño. Sigue jodiendo conmigo. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”
Translation:
“You’re fucking shameless. Keep messing with me. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”
[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 
“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”
Translation:
“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”
Keep Reading:
Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):
Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.
▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)
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haitianhistory · 4 months
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On Haiti's 220th anniversary
Two hundred and twenty years ago, former slaves and free people of color accomplished the seemingly impossible: defeating one of the most formidable European armies of the day and establishing a new state where bondage, as it existed before 1791, would be forever abolished.
For those who have followed this blog since 2013, you know that I (admin A) have rarely allowed myself any sentimentality when discussing Haitian history. I have tried to present a nuanced portrait of Haiti’s past by addressing the weight of the many isms that have plagued its history (colonialism, racism, neoliberalism…) and by taking a critical look at the role of Haitian leaders throughout all these episodes.
Two hundred and twenty years after the unthinkable, Haiti finds itself without a president, grappling with what seems to be a permanent problem of armed gangs, little security, renewed multifaceted tensions with its Dominican neighbour, and on the brink of a new UN occupation through a Kenyan mission. The young woman who started this blog a decade ago would have said that there are little reasons for us as Haitians to celebrate—not because of a difficulty appreciating the great shoulders on which we stand, but because, at twenty-two years old, I didn’t believe in what I felt was useless romanticism binding us to a distorted past while also blinding us to the reality of the disastrous present.
Today, it’s not so much that I find much to rejoice in given the current state of affairs. It’s that I realize, what is the point of all this if there is no hope? Why this blog, why study the history of Haiti at all, why care about the country? For those of us with family there, why not temporarily send money in the hope of helping them relocate here, there, and anywhere except Haiti? Why not congratulate the complete erosion of Haitian sovereignty, as post-1986 Haiti, and especially Haiti of the last two decades, has shown so vividly the complete utter failure of its foreign-backed governing class?
I don’t know what hope is supposed to look like in this situation. Hope for what? Hope for a change under what conditions, under whose authority? On what would this hope be grounded? Perhaps, despite the best efforts of my twenty-two-year-old self, I am becoming as naive and sentimental as the people I silently criticized then...
Perhaps, however, I recognize that Haiti does matter. Even the most cynical among us would admit that there is something profoundly radical in breaking the bonds of slavery, in affirming that people of African descent could not be stripped of their humanity, that there is something poetic in saying “no” in the face of impressive odds. Newly independent Haiti did not live up to some of the promises of its complicated Revolution. The 1825 French imposition of an indemnity severely affected freshly formed Haiti (beyond the 19th century), but it does not excuse the incompetence of Haitian governments, then and now. Haiti could, may have, and I certainly hope, will change, will remember what 1804 ought to have meant.
Perhaps, especially for the people who currently live in Haiti, particularly the women of all ages who face the constant threats of sexual violence, Haiti has a responsibility to itself, to its unprecedented idealism, to all of us.
Given all these reasons, I find it necessary to maintain a guarded optimism, acknowledging that ideas hold significance and possess the potential to materialize into reality.
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burgerking-official · 4 months
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Hello people. I am wishing you a happy new year from Burger King.
I wish a happy 2024 to all people in Abkhazia, Afghanistan, The Aland Islands, Albania, Algeria, Aotearoa, Andorra, Angola, Antarctica, Antigua and Barbuda, Argentina, Armenia, Artsakh, Aruba, Australia, Austria, Azerbaijan, The Bahamas, Bahrain, Bangladesh, Barbados, Belarus, Belgium, Belize, Benin, Bhutan, Bolivia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Botswana, Brazil, Brunei, Bulgaria, Burkina Faso, Burundi, Cabo Verde, Cambodia, Cameroon, Canada, Catalonia, The Central African Republic, Chad, Chile, China, The Cook Islands, Colombia, Comoros, Congo-Brazzaville, Congo-Kinshasa, Cornwall, Costa Rica, Cote D’Ivoire, Croatia, Cuba, Curacao, Cyprus, Czechia, Denmark, Djibouti, Dominica, The Dominican Republic, Ecuador, Egypt, El Salvador, England, Equatorial Guinea, Eritrea, Estonia, Eswatini, Ethiopia, Euskadi, The Faroe Islands, Fiji, Finland, France, Gabon, Gagauzia, The Gambia, Georgia, Germany, Ghana, Greece, Greenland, Grenada, Guatemala, Guinea, Guinea-Bissau, Guyana, Guyane, Haiti, Honduras, Hungary, Iceland, India, Indonesia, Iran, Iraq, Ireland, Israel, Italy, Jamaica, Japan, Jordan, Kazakhstan, Kenya, Kiribati, Kosovo, Kuwait, Kyrgyzstan, Laos, Latvia, Lebanon, Lesotho, Liberia, Libya, Liechtenstein, Lithuania, Luxembourg, Madagascar, Malawi, Malaysia, The Maldives, Mali, Malta, Mann, The Marshall Islands, Mauritania, Mauritius, Mexico, Micronesia, Moldova, Monaco, Mongolia, Montenegro, Morocco, Mozambique, Myanmar, Namibia, Nauru, Nepal, The Netherlands, Nicaragua, Niger, Nigeria, Niue, Northern Cyprus, North Korea, North Macedonia, Norway, Oman, Pakistan, Palau, Palestine, Papua New Guinea, Paraguay, Peru, The Philippines, Poland, Portugal, Puerto Rico, Qatar, Romania, Russia, Rwanda, Saint Christopher and Nevis, Saint Lucia, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, Samoa, San Marino, Sao Tome and Principe, Saudi Arabia, Scotland, Senegal, Serbia, The Seychelles, Sierra Leone, Singapore, Sint Maarten, Slovakia, Slovenia, The Solomon Islands, Somalia, Somaliland, South Africa, South Korea, South Ossetia, South Sudan, Spain, Sri Lanka, Sudan, Suriname, Sweden, Switzerland, Syria, Tajikistan, Taiwan, Tanzania, Thailand, Timor-Leste, Togo, Tonga, Transnistria, Trinidad and Tobago, Tunisia, Turkiye, Turkmenistan, Tuvalu, Uganda, Ukraine, The United Arab Emirates, The United States, Uruguay, Uzbekistan, Vanuatu, The Vatican City, Venezuela, Vietnam, Vojvodina, Wales, Western Sahara, Yemen, Zambia, and Zimbabwe.
If I missed your country, I don’t care. I’m too tired to care.
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jasdiary · 1 year
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“I don’t question this world anymore, 2+2 could be 8 for all I know!”
Original Juvia Intro Post
Name : Juvia Yuyi Espejo
Nicknames : Juvi, Prefect/Housewarden, Piss Baby (Samuel @terrovaniadorm , Ellis @starry-night-rose , and many others,,,), Bestie (Ellis), Juju (Keres), A deer and a puppy..?(Artemis), ‘Via(Deuce and Ace), Sunshine (Deuce), Henchman (Grim), Human (Sebek), Child of Man (Malleus), Potato (Vil and sometimes Epel as a joke-), Mademoiselle Jaune (Rook), Sea Bunny (Floyd), Sunflower (Deuce), Nena(Ruggie and Azul)
Jp Va : Ueda Reina
En Va : Felecia Angelle
Age : 17
Height : 160 cm (5’3)
Homeland : [not found] … [Earth:The Bronx]
Birthday : 12/13 December 13th
Zodiac sign : Sagittarius
Species : Human
Hair Color : Chocolate brown with honey blonde highlights
Eye Color : Caramel Brown
Gender : Female (She/Her)
Sexuality : Bisexual
Family : Janae Oscuro(Mother), Javier Oscuro(Father?), Johan Oscuro(Younger Brother), Jayde Oscuro(Younger Sister), Solana Díaz(Grandmother), Royce Espejo(Biological Father), Unnamed Great Grandmother†
Occupation : Student at Night Raven College, Housewarden of Ramshackle
Twisted From : [not found]
WARNING!! Juvia’s backstory and trivia contains mentions and themes of sickness/chronic illness, depression, suicidal thoughts, child neglect,eating disorders and mentions of death. Please read at your own discretion!!
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School Information
Dorm : Ramshackle
School Year : 1st (Freshman)
Class : 1-A
Best Subject : Art
Worst Class : Math
Club : Board Game Club
Dominant Hand : Right
Favorite Food : Shrimp Alfredo
Least Favorite Food : Anything with condiments
Likes : Drawing, making friends, Being away from Crowley, Being with Deuce and Ace, Dying her hair, Rabbits, Grim!, Going to club meetings, The color yellow, Her grandma
Dislikes : Crowley™️, TREY!!!!, Floyd (most of the time), Mayonnaise, Being ignored, Being sick, Her body, Insects, Her mom, math!!
Hobbies : Digital art, singing, dancing, Cleaning up Ramshackle, Doing Crowley’s bidding/hj, Watching over everyone, Being NRC’s personal Therapist/j
Personality : Juvia’s goofy, she’s so very sweet and she’s super friendly! She adores making friends, whether she thinks they’ll stay or not. As the magicless prefect from a different world, Juvia’s extremely curious about Twisted Wonderland as there’s still so much she doesn’t know! At first meet, Juvia’s shy as she’s not very good at talking to people and tends to keep to herself. Once you actually befriend her, she’s never afraid to speak whatever is on her silly little mind. She’s super quick-witted with her jokes. Juvia describes herself as someone with so much love in her heart for everyone. She’s a little air-headed at times, which she usually laughs at!
Unique Magic : Nothing. She has…nothing. But, if she had nothing…why does the magic mirror tell her to be careful of her emotions?
Backstory + Part 2:
₊ ⊹ ⪩⪨ ┆Juvia Yuyi Espejo Backstory*✨ ‹𝟥
Juvia is a Puerto Rican-Dominican girl from the Bronx. Her life wasn’t particularly special or interesting and she wasn’t exactly rich or poor but she was grateful for everything. Except for living. Juvia despised herself. A fateful day where she sat in front of the mirror, her stomach churned looking at herself and the words were starting to get to her again. She hated her body, she hated her freckles, she hated her hair, eyes, eyebrows, nose, everything. She was a good person, so why her? Why are people so mean? Why is she so mean to herself?
Juvia could do something about it, to make the pain go away. But, she knows she’s too much a coward to do anything. As she goes to stand up, Juvia feels something or rather…someone push her directly into the mirror in front of her.
The last thing she heard was the glass shattering before her vision darkened and she went unconscious.
When Juvia opened her eyes after what felt like forever, everything was still black. She was inside of somewhere, and it was entirely too closed up for her. Anxiety skyrocketing, Juvia frantically tried to get out of wherever she was. Banging and kicking every corner as hard as she could, she managed to succeed…..but she fell flat on the cold floor. When she scrambled back up, still wobbly and dizzy, her vision focused on the amount of people staring at her in dark robes. But what really shocked her was the…coffin?? next to her slamming open and out came a little grey creature. Wait, was he on fire?
Juvia tried to ask where was she was but her voice wouldn’t come out. No matter how hard she tried, her voice refused to cooperate. Probably due to shock. When a tall man with a crow mask walked up to her, the first thing he did was scold her! Who the hell was this guy? And wait a second, what the hell is a familiar?!
Juvia couldn’t really do anything but stand there and let the masked crow guide her in front of a giant mirror. Why…why does it have a face- WHY IS IT TALKING??
Her soul wasn’t from this world? Well, she knew that much!! Just what was going on?! God, she has so many questions…
₊ ⊹ ⪩⪨ ┆Juvia Yuyi Espejo Backstory Pt.2✨ ‹𝟥
Ever since Juvia was young, she’s been in and out of hospitals. No one, not even doctors, know exactly what her sickness is. She’s just…not okay. Coughing up blood, Cataplexy, Memory loss…Something was horribly wrong with little Juvia. However, one thing was known. It was Fatal. The more and more her parents took her to the hospital, the worse she got. Eventually, her mom became frustrated. Not with the doctors, oh no. Juvia herself. Why couldn’t she just been a healthy child that was easy to take care of? Was this her birth fathers doing? Why does SHE have to take her?
From then on, she half-assed every doctors visit no matter how severe Juvia’s condition was. Little Juvia was smart so she was able to notice how her mother started to care less and less about her, watching the sparkle from her eyes dim into nothingness. But she love mami! and Mami loves her too!…..right? And why does dad look so sad? These questions were too much for Juvia’s migraine ridden brain. It wasn’t until she fell into Twisted Wonderland that she didn’t feel all these things. less headaches, less dizziness, she felt fine for the first time in forever.
But…will she continue to stay this way? With her heart slowly turning into obsidian liquid, Her time in Twisted Wonderland may be limited even more.
Random Trivia!
Since spawning in Twisted Wonderland, Juvia’s heart was drowned in blot. The blot greatly slows down her sickness which is why she seems healthier in Twisted Wonderland. But because it’s fully blotted, she’s greatly at risk to overblotting at any time. This is why the magic mirror or those who can see blot accumulation tell her to take care of her emotions.
Speaking of emotions…Juvia’s very emotional 😭
Juvia’s extremely close with Azul Ashengrotto and Ruggie Bucchi! she sees them as her older brother figures
She’s the closest with Deuce Spade, they’re seen together a lot even without their little ginger friend
Though she aspires to be in art, she has theater experience and is said to be a great actress
Juvia speaks spanish fluently and especially enjoys when people ask her to translate words
Back in her world, Juvia dyed her hair a lot! Her favorite color she did was purple. She doesn’t dye it as much nowadays because she finds it too time consuming
If Juvia was in a different dorm, she’d be in Scarabia!
You’ll almost never see her without those two black rings on each of her pointer fingers. if one of them leaves her sight, she begins to panic. They were her late great grandmothers rings.
She’s the butt of many…piss jokes due to her love of the color yellow💔
Her favorite professor is Trein, He treats her more gently than some of the other students because she reminds him of his daughters ☹️💕
After the events of Chapter 6, she’s become an honorary member of Pomefiore + Her relationship with Idia was slightly severed
Many of her friends have to keep an eye on her food intake as she forgets meals and sometimes isn’t used to eating a decent amount of food due to being sick.
Juvia’s stamina sucks balls. Sick or not, this girl is seeing stars after walking up a flight of stairs.
Juvia’s very sensitive. She’ll sob uncontrollably if you speak in a certain way to her ☠️😭
[Seen in her dorm uniform] Juvia has a small pocket watch that times her blot accumulation outside of her heart. In Chapter 8, it’s seen to be half filled.
Juvia’s hand is bandaged and then scarred after Grims manic episode in end of Chapter 5-Beginning of Chapter 6
Chapter 6 and 7 are the closest Juvia has gotten to fully overblotting
These Juvia Designs Show up near the end of Chapter 5. Juvia’ og design is still very much Canon and exists.
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grim-has-issues · 4 months
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for my New Jersey Rats fic, I am happy to announce that they will be making a Dominican dish.
my reason: New Jersey has a lot of Caribbean immigrants and Cuba is close enough to DR where I don’t really care if its not Cuban.
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silvyysthings · 8 months
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Film updates on Twitter just posted timmy and the Jenner girl at beyonces concert looking cozy while he’s smoking. Their together and nothing about this has ever been one sided. After months of his fans saying she’s a stalker , this is all Kris orchestrated and his name was supposedly being dragged with a huge loss of thousands of followers per day on his IG which mysteriously are put back the next day? All the stories were from both teams not just hers. All the PR games, the orchestrated driveway photos, Cannes rumor, taco dates, soccer games, airplane hangars, Italy, birthday yacht, big foot photos, private jets, hickey gate etc he doesn’t care and is doubling down and all in. What a joke. All the dmoix leaks were from both teams. So dmoix source was right and he was with her on her birthday in Dominican Republic or Antigua during the SAG strike which he remains silent on and is yet to support? Also PR person on Reddit said word is his team removed the Vogue article not hers. There is no gun to his head. This is him. His choice. Good luck dude. Fucking Circus. He has shit to sell and her new season starts Sep 28th. Say hello to Timmy 2.0. Mr I don’t give a fuck what the fans think and will date whoever I want and do staged sponsored pap walks as long as the cheque clears. No thanks. Cue the mountain of excuses fans are about to make about how this nearly 28 year old multi millionaire intellectual with his six star lifestyle, private jets and projects coming out of everywhere is being forced against his will to do this charade by Sleazy Homophobic Hollywood and the big bad media loving over exposed kardashians in 3…2..1. Maybe look at the video closer. Does he look stressed? He’s laughing and knows the fans will all fall back in line after they vent angrily after a day or two as always. Excuses. Excuses. Don’t worry obviously the Chanel movie is about to drop to distract everyone with his hotness. Isn’t that the pattern? Right after her new Acne Campaign this weekend. Coordinated as usual. True love. Let the excuses begin.
I understand your anger, believe me but for me there is a basic problem in thinking that he should behave or live as the fans want for him, I don't like the people he goes out with, I don't know them (and for what I know I DON'T LIKE THEM to clarify )but in general and I'm not just referring to Tim to think that the actor we love has to necessarily follow the guidelines of how the fans would like him seems crazy to me
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magxit · 11 months
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Every time Matty Healy opens his mouth, somebody gets annoyed. Long before his rumoured relationship with international sweetheart Taylor Swift, Healy, the lead singer of the massively irritating pop band The 1975, had mastered the art of winding people up. He has a supple singing voice and is a decent songwriter: but his true vocation, across his decade-plus career, has been treading on strangers’ toes. He’s the Bob Dylan of raising your blood pressure.
Until recently, this was an accepted fact, and nobody cared that he was a bit of an idiot. It was his calling card. You went to see The 1975 because you were partial to their slick, saxophone-fuelled pop – imagine if Radiohead woke one morning and decided they wanted to be a Level 42 covers band – but also because there was a fair chance Healy might do something ludicrous. As he did when he brought his tour to Dublin earlier this year and, in response to an annoying audience chant of “Olé, Olé, Olé,” told 14,000 Irish fans that they were “a simple people”.
Nobody booed; if anything, the crowd lapped it up. Later in the show, Healy, 34, had a slight meltdown and started swinging the mic stand around. In a world where many male rockers want to be a variation of Chris Martin – the colour beige in human form – how refreshing to see a vast, preening ego imploding for our entertainment.
You were reminded that Healy grew up in an acting family: his father, Tim Healy, starred in Auf Wiedersehen, Pet and Benidorm, and his mother, Denise Welch, is best known as Natalie Barnes from Coronation Street. She’s also done panto – and clearly, some of that knockabout energy has filtered down to her son.
What a rollercoaster ride it was watching him in concert. In between these two extremes of sneery git and man-falling-to-pieces, Healy had briefly addressed the audience. “There’s a story [in the papers] calling me a Nazi tomorrow,” he said. “This is true.”
It was indeed true. Healy had been waving his arms earlier in the tour, and a few tabloids had decided he was giving a Hitler salute. The controversy was ludicrous and flamed out. But another online storm has followed Healy around - and has been intensified by his supposed romance with Taylor Swift. It concerns the New York rapper Ice Spice, whom Healy is accused of mocking in a podcast.
He addressed these claims in a new interview with The New Yorker, which seems to have been commissioned not because of The 1975’s streak of decent albums but because he’s been in the audience of Taylor Swift’s US tour (with Swift having joined The 1975 in London in January).
The singer hadn’t insulted Ice Spice but had laughed when the podcast hosts described her as an “Inuit Spice girl” and a “chubby Chinese lady”. The 23-year-old rapper is, in fact, of African-American and Dominican heritage. The details are obviously irrelevant: it’s self-evidently unacceptable to turn someone’s ethnicity or appearance into a punchline.
Healy had, as was only proper, later apologised publicly – saying he didn’t want Ice Spice, real name Isis Naija Gaston, to think he was a “d---”. But that horse had bolted.
He’s shallow, then – but he has depths. Healy is blisteringly honest about his mental health on The 1975’s 2022 LP, Being Funny In A Foreign Language album as well as reflecting on his years of heroin addiction and his romantic split from singer FKA Twigs.
“Oh, I don’t care if you’re insincere / Just tell me what I want to hear,” he sang on All I Need To Hear, a ballad about his need for human support and connection following a reported breakdown. Later, the Cheshire-raised singer said that it was easier “as an English northern person, to be sardonic in the face of something sincere”. The argument he makes on the new LP is that it’s okay to be corny and fake, if your motives are pure.
He has also gleefully played with ideas of masculinity. On the group’s latest tour, Healy sings against briefly projected images of Prince Andrew and of controversial kick boxer-turned-influencer Andrew Tate, whose toxic machismo Healy appeared to skewer.
But in the New Yorker interview, Healy made the broader point that most of the online controversy he has whipped up over the years has been illusory. In an uncharacteristic display of humility, he explained that people don’t think about him that often.
“It doesn’t actually matter,” he told The New Yorker. “Nobody is sitting there at night slumped at their computer, and their boyfriend comes over and goes, ‘What’s wrong, darling?’ and they go, ‘It’s just this thing with Matty Healy.’ That doesn’t happen.”
What about those people who were genuinely offended, wondered The New Yorker? “You’re either deluded or you are, sorry, a liar. You’re either lying that you are hurt, or you’re a bit mental for being hurt. It’s just people going, ‘Oh, there’s a bad thing over there, let me get as close to it as possible so you can see how good I am.’ And I kind of want them to do that, because they’re demonstrating something so base level.”
Swift and Healy have yet to go on the record with their romance – though Swift has gone public with her admiration for Ice Spice, with whom she recorded a new version of her single Karma. But even without confirmation, the very idea of Swift being with an unreconstructed wind-up merchant of Healy’s calibre has vexed a segment of her fanbase, who have urged her to “actively engage in this process of personal and social transformation”.
This touches on the wider issue of how much say fans should have in the personal lives of pop stars (answer: none at all). It also confirms that Healy is a throwback to an older kind of pop star. There was a time when being outrageous wasn’t a career killer – it was part of the job description. Whether it was Ozzy Osbourne biting off the head of a bat or the Gallaghers launching jibes at Blur (before they turned their artillery on each other), part of the fun of being a pop fan was waiting for your favourite artist’s next outrageous outburst.
Healy understands this is part of his job and hasn’t been found wanting. He’s good at it too. In an age where pop is increasingly a story of the bland leading the bland, it is a talent for which he should be praised rather than pilloried.
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porquejimin · 4 months
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I’m not going to say anything but paint a picture. Toji Fushiguro. But he’s a motherfucker from north Jersey. Parents from Hoboken but the dude just hangs around Camden.
In addition, Megumi growing up in Jersey. His dad moved them somewhere “nicer” maybe Clifton or Hackensack and the kid grows up well but just being a fucking menace. Plays wall ball next to abandoned houses and get SO many of them stuck in the neighbors gutters.
Hangs out at GSP, and he’s banned from the gypsy buses (thanks to Yuji) luckily Toji has a day job as a bus driver for the good ole MTA.
Toji rolls up to the bodega with a green tea Arizona and gets a Taylor ham egg and cheese (Toji eats his with too much hot sauce and fucking Takis like a psychopath).
Worse driver on the goddamn road and kicks over trash cans and chairs out of already shovled parking spots because he DOES NOT FUCKING CARE. But god for if you park in front of his house, in his spot, the man will come out shirtless in the dead of winter with a piece telling you to get the fuck outta here.
As a new jersian, I will now provide lore accurate New Jersey dialogues
Megumi: Yuji It’s brick af outside I ain’t tryna freeze to death waiting on ya ass.
Toji: naw man I got union so if those bad ass kids don’t sit the fuck down, I’ll do what I got to do.
Megumi: na man, me and my dad gotta go to the StopNShop for the “can-can” sale.
Toji: I came out all the way to the city to kill this bum and traffic through the Lincoln tunnel is 50 minutes? Might as well kill myself
Megumi: yeah sometimes I slide to the Dominican lady next door and she gives me a plate cuz she likes my dad.
Toji: they ain’t salt the roads yet so don’t panic if I Jersey slide into incoming traffic.
I know this is hella out of left field but it felt very necessary. Thank you.
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chezzabellesworld · 5 months
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So how do we go to this to what we famously know now with Cardi B and Nicki Minaj this is the 2018 Met gala. Jeremy Scott was designing both Cardy and Nikki‘s dresses. I believe and the theme was Catholicism. I believe if not Catholicism religion. Azealia Banks said when you see wars with men in the hip-hop industry online, it’s really a love is tiff And as we know by now in the industry, your have to be pansexual or it will at least bisexual that’s just how it seems to work, I know a lot of you may not believe but I alone items but how come so I’m glad. It’s just like the Nikki and Kim situation, so if it’s the same situation, we have Nicki, Minaj and Lil’ Kim in the early 2000 late 2000s even Nicki Minaj is known by many ofher peers for not liking them specially women, and and industry, you’ll see love its death but the industry also loves a good PR move where they will set up a thing where two people hate each other did round to give them both publicity going into their charts and their kids are Sagittarius, son and Aquarius rising and a Virgo moon, Cardi B is a libra son and Aries moon, and wherever you want to believe which ever source some people said she said on Instagram is who she has Sagittarius rising and obviously say she’s an Aries rising and personally seeing the look more of a Sagittarius rising, especially of her hair and her look and her face shape, but I can always see the Aries rising in her. Let’s face it they’re both fire signs anyway, so they have quite quality qualities that are similar. Rhianna is an Aries rising and she has a cockiness and good sense of humour and can be a laugh so she could have that anyway from just having an Aries moon. So how did this all start this started when Cardi B and Nicki Minaj both worked on a track called motorsport ,with the with the Migos, and they were never in the video together, they would do it separately, and one of the verses on it, you felt was disrespectful to her from nicki….. so they change the lyrics so are they were aimed at quavo, instead because women be fighting a lot and these two women have more in common than they probably realise or care to realise and a lot of it came from Nikki was defending for my remember black women, because Cardi B said some, women’s child look like a monkey and Dominicans are so I’ve been told very funny about their race. They don’t admit to being black a lot of the time when it’s clearly they’ve got black and Spanish roots so having her cancer cancer rules anyway, but Mars cancer even more so because you have to remember with Mars that Mars is your essence of your characteristic, how you move in the world, how you are every day how you are physically physically as in moving around and physically how you look so I has been up for a lot of times same how they talk with Meghan Markle who also has her Mars in cancer. It’s just one of those things are going out in her life. The picture we have at the top is at the Gala and Cardi B is pregnant and I don’t know if anything gets happened at this point I’m guessing not, but I feel like something might have, but Cardi B let’s face. It was probably stripping to Nikki‘s songs so when it came where they had their fight it was at the harpers, bizarre fashion event and Cardi B threw a shoe at Nicki Minaj Nicki Minaj kept saying I’m right here I’m right here get me I’m right here but no realised that she had her bodyguard which I thought was weird is a female someone called raw Ali, she’s really pretty, but she’s very big anyway they’re two different sides. Of course you leave the event with a massive bump on her head so she got she said she got hit by security or hurt by security where as Nikki said on her radio that she got beat in the crap out of my raw Ali, who is Nikki security so maybe she saying in undertone I don’t know but maybe Nikki had loads of security around her and that’s why she didn’t get hurt because card had only just come out that year so she’s not gonna have as much money or as much of
Team.
Anyway, Nikki‘s Capricorn, marsis in opposition to Cardi B‘s Mars in cancer, so saying that Cardi B could’ve felt frightened by Nikki‘sm Nikki’s essence and her character and her personality and her energy ,in a manipulative way, because cancer can be manipulative, and Capricorns can initiative but mars and Capricorn love fame Capricorn,in MARS I see it being a massive fame placement and a lot of charts because I’m also doing scrapbooking too with my astrology and then, Cardi B‘s whole aggression could’ve felt frightening to Nikki‘s image. Anyway, we’re gonna leave it at that leave fusing to Azealia Banks and all her feuds had enough of that for one day. These women have both matured and become others, and as far as I know, there’s no more feuds with these two. Let’s keep it that way let me know who side you’re on. Let me know if you’re on impartial. Let me know if you think it was all here and let me also know what you think on the matter. Thank you kiss kiss kiss XOXO 
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angeltreasure · 11 months
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Biggest points I learned from today’s Zoom meeting for discerning religious life:
🌟 1. - charism and apostolate are not the same thing and this how it works:
Charism in the simplest term: “graces of the Holy Spirit which directly or indirectly benefit the Church, ordered as they are to her building up, to the good of men, and to the needs of the world” (Article 799).
When we speak of a charism for religious life, we speak of the very specific gift which defines that specific community apart from others. This is how we can distinguish Dominicans vs Jesuits vs Salesians, etc etc.
Now when we look at what an apostate is for religious life, it’s the way that religious life brings their charism (their specific gift) to the world.
Example from a random Order:
Dominicans are preachers, meaning they spread the Gospel through words and actions.
The Dominican Sisters of Mission San Jose has a charism of community ministry (service), study, and prayer.
They bring the good news to the world by their charism by these methods in their apostolate:
Praying: Celebration of the Eucharist (aka daily Mass), pray Liturgy of the Hours, Morning Prayer, Evening Prayer.
Service: social service, health care, education, preaching, promoting peace and justice, special concern of the young, poor, and needy.
Study: formal study, collaborative study, personal study, study of Scripture, teachings of the Church, and contemporary issues.
So, in short, if you pray about what gift you can bring to others you will have an easier time finding which religious Order you would fit into. This can also apply to the situation of cloister vs no cloister because they are very different some are complete opposites of one another.
🌟2. A person who is discerning religious life will not just visit face to face or Zoom once or twice and apply to join. That Order will keep in contact with them for many months. This is both parties can get to know each other. If those go well, that’s when the in person retreats and visits will start. So, don’t feel overwhelmed. Ask away for questions and be open.
🌟 3. It’s very important to find a spiritual director to meet with once a month to talk about your journey. You can find a spiritual director as simply as asking your priest if they would be able to meet with you at least once a month to talk about your discernment. To find a good spiritual director, it might be for example, a priest you have gone to for confession at least two times or more that you felt comfortable with and had a good confession with. In other words, you don’t want to ask a priest to be your spiritual director if they make you uncomfortable.
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jungle-angel · 2 years
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Please I need Coyote x reader anything! I don’t care if it’s fluff, smut, or headcanons. I need something 😭😭 (I know this is vague, but it’s hard being a Coyote stan out here)
(cracks the knuckles) Bish say no more, I've gotchu!!!!! I'm gonna try and make it a point to do more Coyote and Payback content soon enough (lol)
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You and Coyote were due to get married soon and the stress levels were already hitting the roof
Hell you even thought about eloping in Brazil so the rest of his family could be there
Bob, his parents Joe and Irene, and the rest of the Floyd clan offered up the ranch in Oklahoma so you guys could have the reception there (Big Relief Number 1)
The other issue you guys had was actually getting Javy's extended family to come up from Rio but thanks to his mom and dad, they managed to get in with no problem (Big Relief Number 2)
Natasha, Amelia, Javy's sister and your best girlfrinds were the bridesmaids, Natasha of course was maid of honor
Hangman was best man, but the guys' night alone got a little crazy because they decided to give Javy the traditional chest wax
You and the girls however decided to have a little fun of your own
His sister, Alessandra, had picked up a little bottle of something while the family had a stopover in the Dominican......a big bottle of Mama Juana
Good God were you guys hammered that night. You sent a video of you guys to Javy, you and your girlfriends screaming "WE'RE TOASTED!!!!!" at the tops of your lungs
You guys were dancing to Javy's throwback and hip-hop mixtape by the bonfire
But you guys never.......NEVER.......missed the morning bell
When Javy saw you walk into the church on the day of the wedding he almost cried
And so didn't you, seeing him in his dress whites
The priest who married you and Javy was also the Navy chaplain. He had known the two of you for years and when you asked him for help, he readily said yes
Rooster and the rest of the Top Gunners held up the swords for you and Javy to walk under on the way out
And at the reception everybody went balls to the wall nuts
The boys all started dancing to "Copperhead Road", even Penny and Maverick, although Mav joked that he had two left feet and couldn't dance
Oh God, when they played "Get Low" by Lil Jon, you and the girls were all laughing
Javy, Hangman, Rooster, Fanboy, Payback and Bob were all dancing like they were in the club (lol).......let's just leave it at that
So weren't Phoenix and Halo
Harvard, Omaha and Fritz had started a breakdancing contest to see who was the best
All in all it was the best night of your life
Because you got to share it with Javy and the people you loved the most
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starlooove · 8 months
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y’all literally have Aisha why erase BROWN ppl’s rep by hc Flora as a different race y’all do it all the time
Brown ppl exist!!
Anyways,
Bloom is brownskinned with a cute baby fro and since in my mind you can change your form however it suits you; she uses her base transformation to experiment with locs, goddess braids, Bantu knots, etc; I like to think the first few times she “half” transformed she also experimented with outfits but when she finally settled she decided on the canon fit and some shoulder-mid back length locs! Tbh I don’t hc her as black most of the time bc she’s like. THE white girl ever but yknow if I’m feeling it I’m feeling it!
Stella has a HUGE fro (like the sun!) and she keeps it in puffs during her base tranformation. Solaria is a whole different planet so i think their hairstyles for Afro textured hair would lean towards mimicking celestial bodies; and it’s actually a point of envy ppl have for Stella bc her hair can mimic the sun so well! (She absolutely uses her powers to give it a soft glow when she wants to make a dramatic entrance, which is always!) There are spells and potions that can help but on Solaria personal fashion is a point of pride in general so copying others is kind of a no go if you wanna be taken seriously. Sad. There’s this cute fanart where they base her off of Greek clothing so I’d personally say she’s black and Greek.
Tecna has a fade and she shaves specific patterns into it whenever she feels like it. She lets people believe that they have to do with whatever topic of knowledge she’s pursuing (since in magix it isn’t unheard of for specific things to require more long term changes in appearance and clothing without a transformation; this predominantly occurs with witches, wizards, and sorcerors, but you’ll occasionally find a fairy or mage doing the same!) I see Tecna as AA bc we are never beating the early 2000s cartoon nerd stereotypes ☹️☹️☹️💔💔💔💔💔
For Aisha I saw this GORGEOUS fanart of her awhile ago wearing a hijab and I basically engrained that into my psyche. I also hc her as either the androsian equivalent to blasian or Egyptian, depending on my mood tbh! I think she’s good at makeup bc she has to be but struggles with finding her personal style (in clothing as well) outside of “royal” but Stella helps her a lot with that and they bond over the burden of being rich and famous 💔💔💔💔
Which leads me to musa who I hc as blasian soooometimes but not rlly? Like idk it really just depends on how I’m feeling but when I do you KNOW she’s rocking the puffs and her hair growth is literally just box braids relax don’t call paw patrol 🙄🙄🙄🙄 black or not; i think she does have a shaved head bleached hair/eyebrows era but she wasn’t rocking with it so it’s whatever. She does enjoy shaving her brows and drawing little shapes instead and when she combines it with a makeup look? Purr.
And finally, Flora. I genuinely don’t have much to say since I didn’t know brown people existed but if I WERE an Afro Latina who saw Winx Club as one of the most diverse shows in media at the time and heavily projected onto and related to flora since the Aisha we literally have wasn’t there in season one, I’d headcanon her as Afro Dominican with 3C curls that she does take care of but doesn’t bother styling. She’d have that “spiritual” fashion sense and loudly demonstrates both her cultures not just because she’s proud of them but because of preconceived notions from silly bitches who think she can’t be both. I think she’d only “do” her hair during her transformations but she eventually ends up with freeforms! She and bloom tried wicks together and book didn’t rock with them but flora fucked with them HEAVY and even though she’d never admit it she partly did like having them because the reactions she got from people who were confused that she spoke Spanish fluently and was actually Latina because it’s possible to be both at once were funny asf!
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girljeremystrong · 1 year
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25 favorite books of mine for @kerrycastellabate ❤️ 
1.       WE RIDE UPON STICKS by quan barry
about a girl’s high school field hockey team from salem, massachussetts which in 1989 is on a mega winning streak. might it be because the team members have pledged themselves to the dark forces in order to get to state? it’s so fun and the characters are all incredible.
2.       WE BEGIN AT THE END by chris whitaker
the plot isn’t easy to summarize but this is a thriller and a very very good one at that. it’s goto ne of the best characters ever: duchess “the outlaw”. there’s a murder and a murderer on the loose and old friends and sweet siblings and it’s truly a great book.
3.       THE INDEX OF SELF DESTRUCTIVE ACTS by christopher beha
this as close to succession as a book can get. Sam is a sport statician, he gets involved with a rich new york city family. this book is amazing, so much happens and all the characters are great.
4.       THE GIRL WITH THE LOUDING VOICE by abi daré
adunni is a fourteen-year-old nigerian girl who knows what she wants: an education. she’s determined to find her voice. incredible story and so sweet and uplifting and beautiful. i have gifted this book time and time again. i love it.
5.       THE ART OF FIELDING by chad harbach
about henry who gets recruited by mike to play baseball at college and they become very good pals while henry becomes better and better and mike understands his life less and less. great team antics great plot great characters not too much baseball.
6.       DOMINICANA by angie cruz
ana is a fifteen year old girl living in the dominican republic who dreams of moving to america. again this is a very sweet and powerful story. ana is an incredible character that i love so much.
7.       I KNOW WHY THE CAGED BIRD SINGS by maya angelou
a wonderful memoir about her childhood in a southern town. this is a classic and i love it. It’s joyful and sad and wonderful.
8.       NOTHING TO SEE HERE by kevin wilson
moving and uproarious novel about a woman who finds meaning in her life when she begins caring for two children with remarkable and disturbing abilities (they spontaneously combust when they get agitated). great and fun and very sweet.
9.       CONJURE WOMEN by afia atakora
a sweeping story that brings the world of the south before and after the civil war vividly to life. spanning eras and generations, it tells of the lives of three unforgettable women. “magnificently written, brilliantly researched, richly imagined.”
10.   A PRAYER FOR OWEN MEANY by john irving
eleven-year-old owen meany, playing in a Little League baseball game in gravesend, new hampshire, hits a foul ball and kills his best friend's mother. owen doesn't believe in accidents. wonderful story about friendship and destiny. i love this book.
11.   HOMEGOING by yaa gyasi
this book follows generation after generation of descendants of two half sisters born in different villages in 18th century ghana. they go on to having very different fates and so do their children and their children's children. it’s a modern classic! it’s perfect.
12.   BRIDESHEAD REVISITED by evelyn waugh
tells the story of charles ryder's infatuation with the marchmains and the rapidly-disappearing world of privilege they inhabit. enchanted first by sebastian, then by his doomed catholic family. it’s wonderful and wistful and beautifully written.
13.   BELOVED by toni morrison
sethe was born a slave and escaped, but eighteen years later she is still not free. she has borne the unthinkable and not gone mad, yet she is still held captive by memories of sweet home, the beautiful farm where so many hideous things happened. it’s perfect it won every big award because it’s incredible.
14.   ALL THE KING'S MEN by robert penn warren
tells the story of charismatic populist governor willie stark and his political machinations in the depression-era deep south. i don’t know but i love this book. it’s a classic and it’s written so well and the story is compelling and i keep recommending it.
15.   SALVAGE THE BONES by jesmyn ward
hurricane katrina is building over the gulf of mexico, threatening the coastal town of bois sauvage, mississippi, and esch's father is growing concerned. this all takes place across 12 days before, during and after hurricane katrina and it is a truly amazing book. a must read! a modern classic.
16.   EVERYWHERE YOU DON'T BELONG by gabriel bump
claude, a black boy from the south side of chicago whose parents both left when he was a child, so he was raised by his grandmother and her friend paul. love this book, its characters and the way it’s written, and especially its dialogues.
17.   THE PROPHETS by robert jones jr.
bout the forbidden union between two enslaved young men on a deep south plantation. isaiah was samuel’s and samuel was isaiah’s. very sad and very maddening, but beautiful.
18.   THE FUNNY THING ABOUT NORMAN FOREMAN by julietta henderson
when 12-year-old norman’s best friend jax dies, he decides the only fitting tribute is to perform at the edinburgh fringe festival as a comedian. his mum sadie will do anything to help him. ooh this is so sweet, it’s adorable and so fun and delightful!
19.   INFINITE COUNTRY by patricia engel
elena and mauro are teenagers when they meet, their blooming love an antidote to the mounting brutality of life in bogotá. once their first daughter is born, and facing grim economic prospects, they set their sights on the united states. beautiful story and very well written.
20.   THE SWEETNESS OF WATER by nathan harris
in the waning days of the civil war, brothers prentiss and landry—freed by the emancipation proclamation—seek refuge on the homestead of george walker and his wife, isabelle. the walkers, wracked by the loss of their only son to the war, hire the brothers. so unexpectedy gorgeous.
21.   BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY by quan julie wang
a beautiful memoir about an undocumented childhood. my favorite book of 2022. magnificent, perfect, sweet, sad, joyful. i love it with all myself.
22.   REAL LIFE by brandon taylor
almost everything about wallace is at odds with the midwestern university town. but over the course of a weekend, a series of confrontations with colleagues, and an unexpected encounter with a straight, white classmate, conspire to fracture his defenses. i love this. this author is so good at building up characters.
23.   MILK BLOOD HEAT by dantiel w. monitz
incredible collection of short stories. left me wanting more but at the same time they are perfectly crafted and beautiful.
24.   HOMELAND ELEGIES by ayad akhtar
truly incredible book, one of the best i’ve ever read. part family drama, part social essay, part picaresque adventure — at its heart, it is the story of a father, a son, and the country they both call home.
25.    THE LOVE SONGS OF W.E.B. DU BOIS  by honorée fanonne jeffers
this is the story of ailey and her ancestor’s journey in america through centuries, from the colonial slave trade to our days. we meet ailey when she is a child and watch her grow up, until the moment when, as a college graduate, she embarks on a journey to uncover her family’s past. a wonderful epic story spanning centuries. loved the character of ailey.
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Michael Tiknis
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The engraging unfairness of Dobbs. :: June 27, 2022
Robert B. Hubbell
        Standing alone, the abolition of an existing constitutional right that results in the subordination of women to theocratic state legislatures is anti-democratic, un-American, and a violation of human rights. Even so, the manner in which this Court chose to dispense with a right that is recognized in 174 of the world’s 195 nations was hurtful and cruel. Indeed, Alito’s opinion seems designed to give offense while inflicting injury.
....
        Let’s start with Alito’s biggest lie. He writes, “It is time. . . to return the issue of abortion to the people’s elected representatives.” That misdirection has become the right’s antiseptic re-telling of the abolition of a constitutional right. The Dobbs decision returns the issue of abortion to “the people’s elected representatives” because it abolishes the right to privacy and personal autonomy over reproductive choice that was recognized for fifty years.
        A crude analogy is a mugger who claims that “I sent the victim to the emergency room,” ignoring the fact that the injuries he inflicted on the victim necessitated the trip to the hospital. “Returning the issue to people’s elected representatives” is the result of abolishing a constitutional right. First and foremost, Dobbs abolishes a constitutional right. Don’t let anyone confuse that fact by pretending Dobbs is really about empowering “the people’s representatives” to decide the issue. It is not.
        The decision is particularly maddening because it reverses the global trend toward greater liberty and freedom that marks the modern world. Yes, there are exceptions to that trend in the 21 nations that ban abortion entirely—an ignominious list the US has now joined: Andorra, Republic of the Congo, Dominican Republic, Egypt, El Salvador, Haiti, Honduras, Iraq, Jamaica, Laos, Madagascar, Malta, Mauritania, Nicaragua, Palau, Philippines, San Marino, Senegal, Sierra Leone, Suriname, and Tonga.
        Perhaps the most grievous sense of injustice flows from the fact that Dobbs marks the first time the Court has abolished a constitutional right—a right that was hard-won by millions of women alive today who fought for its recognition. The nearest comparison would be if the Court reversed its ruling that “separate but equal” education and accommodations are impermissible under the Constitution. Such a ruling would deny the equality and dignity of Black Americans; so, too, with the ruling in Dobbs. One class of Americans has been told “You are not equal; you are less than your male counterparts and the state will take control of the most basic aspects of your personhood.” Whenever we discuss Dobbs, we must acknowledge that its effect is to deny the equality and dignity of women.
        The sense of unfairness is compounded by the fact that at least two (and possibly three) justices lied to the Senate during their confirmation hearings. The opinion in Dobbs makes clear that the Kavanaugh and Gorsuch always believed that Roe was “egregiously wrong” from the start—an opinion they concealed from the Senate and the American people.
The fact that Senators Collins and Manchin have accused Gorsuch and Kavanaugh of misleading them during private interviews is shocking. Both justices should resign in disgrace. But like Kavanaugh’s infamous defense of his love of beer, he has no shame. He does not care that the world knows he is a liar. The sense of impunity and callousness makes their attack on the rights of women all the more heinous.
        The reactionary majority pretends that returning the issue to the states will restore balance and harmony to a democratic system. It will not. Instead, it will exacerbate inequality and divisiveness along geographic, wealth, and religious grounds. Americans in some states will have a right over reproductive choices, while others do not. Poor Americans will not have the same ability to circumvent abortion bans by traveling to other states. And some Americans will see their religious beliefs codified as law while others will be told that their personal beliefs do not matter.
        The patchwork of conflicting laws and elevation of differences will create two Americas. Affluent Christian evangelicals will surreptitiously travel to other states when their personal circumstances collide with their public professions of faith. Poor women will not have that choice but will be forced to give birth to children that the white, male, Christian-dominated legislatures have no intention of supporting with adequate healthcare, safe schools, or food security.
        Finally, in a breathtaking display of ignorance and insensitivity, four male justices dismiss the burdens and risks of pregnancy and the life-altering consequences of forcing a woman to give birth. That ignorance and insensitivity is not diminished by the fact that the reactionary majority includes a woman who is a member of a religious cult on the fringes of American society.
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