#The Full Circle Program

[meraus]

i'm not watching the tw movie because i can't do that to myself but i got a rundown of the plot and all i've got to say is:

tw:tm2:fix-it opens with a very pissed of Stiles Stillinski banging on Scott's door and punching him is his charming face as soon as he opens. He's back in town for Derek's funeral and his first order of business is to get into a massive fight about Scott's idea of morality and way of doing things "the right way" always getting the wrong people killed. The fight dies down only because there's a familiar sound coming up the drive way- Stiles' jeep. Eli's home. Violent confrontation becomes mad awkward.

Stiles say something like, seems every other asshole with a grudge can come back to life around here, so can Derek. He leaves and completely delves into research about resurrection. Montage or whatever until an alarm rings and the calendar notification reads it's time to get ready for the funeral.

Deaton is also there, and as unhelpful and cryptic as he is, he's also the most knowledgeable in magic, so Stiles grills him. We FUCKING FINALLY explore the whole spark thing that allows Stiles to do magic, as well as a throwback to the link with the Nemeton and their sacrificial deaths which will this time around be more helpful than harmful as it allows easier undetected passage in the realm of the dead.

That's right, baby, we're Orpheus and Eurydice'ing it.

Lydia, as a banshee with the strongest connection to the afterlife, plays an important role in guiding Stiles towards Derek and back again. They plot together and while Lydia is against the idea because it's very very stupidly dangerous, she can't let a good theoretic discussion slide. Also, Stiles is 100% doing this and his odds of success without her help are kind of shit.

His intention is to do another ice bath death, but before that her premonition of the car crash comes to fruition and Stiles dies for real. Lydia feels responsible because she let the thing she tries so hard to avoid happen anyway. It's not that big of a deal, though, since at this point they've got a plan to come back. Just sucks their plan to go there got a bit screwed.

Underworld shenanigans happen, lots of old enemies and allies rear their heads, and Stiles comes back with not just Derek Hale in tow, but the Hale pack. That's right folks, Erica and Boyd LIVE! And hell, while we're at it, might as well get the og pack aka Derek's entire family back lol. Or at the very least Laura. Have some bs magic rule about a soul's decade before reincarnation or something who cares it's teen wolf.

At the end of the movie there's bts footage of everyone lining up to kick jeff davis like that one WoW quest with the single npc that everyone has to murk.

Everybody lives/resurrects, stydia besties, sterek endgame, scott is a bad friend but recovers from that, kira is there even if she's just hanging out and arden cho is paid the most of all the cast

#i mean come on guys even if its not stiles like #peter came back from death what? 2 or 3 times? he can spare a fourth jesus miracle for his nephew #we are NOT killing derek hale. especially not with fire. jeff davis are you on CRACK? is it crack you smoke? come on now #the only full circle there is your asshole that you're showing. pull your pants back up and get with the program #teen wolf #teen wolf movie

[milesworld96]

The only women ever

#now I desperately need her to start a program w Thunder Rosa #WE NEED THUNDER ROSA VS TONI STORM #LETS GO FULL CIRCLE PLEASE #toni storm #I love her #aew #aew dynamite

[presentlydean]

you ever have a 2 trillion dollar company send you multiple broken computers in trying to uphold their warranty on a defective device... and then ghost you?

#microsoft #like literally i now have been sent TWO broken devices #that they claim are refurbished #and i'm like #maybe at this point #after running me in circles for literally a full month #you should just replace this with a new computer #and they're like #have you considered trading in the broken one that we sent you broken to our trade-in program and seeing how much we'll give you for it? #even though it's OLDER than the one you sent back in the first place? and you know. #broken? because we sent it to you broken? #or we can send you another refurbished computer #even though we have clearly demonstrated that we don't know the difference between a fully functional computer and a computer with defects #i've never had a more frustrating customer service experience in my entire life #personal #not spn

[columbia-basin-hearing-center]

Full Circle Hearing Program

CBHC offers services to hearing aids until they are 8 years old and recommends updating hearing aids every 4-6 years due to rapidly changing technology as well as wear and tear on the device from everyday use

#Full Circle Hearing Program #columbia basin hearing center

[fanartandonlyfanart]

16 x 16 sprites are hell how do you draw a pixel key what the fuck

#programing #fuck it itll be broken #just one circle #with a cat face #cat key sprite #the true boss #anyway fuck videogame making u think imma use these already drawn pieces? #who u take me for a coward #imma get a full 120% on this bitch watch me

[suvkii]

the two of you sitting on the couch together, you both remained perfectly relaxed as you continued watching the classic program playing on the television. the sight of choso’s warm hand settling on top of your soft skin. you couldn't help but savor the peaceful and calming touch of his fingers as they lingered on your thigh.

choso’s muscular structure is something you can never get bored of. his chiseled abs perfectly formed beneath his black tank top, flexing with every movement he makes. his purple eyes are shifting toward you, commanding your full attention and sending shivers down your spine.

you can’t help but notice how breathtaking he looks in that tank top, the way his muscles are constantly shifting and flexing is incredibly attractive. you feel like you can’t tear your eyes away, you just want to gawk at him for hours at time enough to make you weak in the knees every time. never failing to have you right where he wants you..

you took a deep breath, the tense muscles in your body loosening and relaxing as choso's pale hand continued to rub small circles on your soft skin. you felt yourself slowly releasing any built-up stress inside of you. the moment was so serene and tranquil that you felt yourself melting away, slowly losing yourself to the euphoric sensation of bliss and contentment that seemed to be sweeping over you.

“choso . . . baby?”

“yes?”

“i . . well— . . was wondering if we could try thigh riding . . ?”

likewise he draws you closer, he places his hand on your waist. his warm palm brushing your smooth skin. the question lingers in the air the tension thickens between the two of you, as both of you remained in close proximity to each other.

“hmm. .” choso murmurs the softness of his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, you feel as though he’s casting a spell over you. his warm breath blowing hastily against your nape causing you to shiver uncontrollably in a teasing manner. “don’t worry i got you . . baby.”

further when he rests his palms on your curves, straddling you onto his thigh, you feel completely overwhelmed by the sudden sensation. it’s almost as if everything around you has faded away, until there’s nothing left but the two of you.

“choso. . . c’mon..” you let out a needy gasp beginning to grind your hips against his, the friction between his thighs causes your body to shudder and your breath to catch in your throat it’s unbearable even so you just started wanting more, it seems it didn’t take long for you to fold underneath his fingertips—that’s guiding your slowly pace on his thigh. “please. . . .”

you whimper as the fabric of your underwear clings to your slick causing your hips to quiver against him and it’s the best and worse feeling at the same time. his movements are slow and steady as well, his soft groans fill your ears as your crumbling against him practical—the grasp of your nails sinking into the softness of his thigh. “mmm . . use your words if you want something, badly . . baby.”

“. . n-need you.. so badly.”you managed to muster out in a a little whine turning your view over your shoulder—seems it didn’t take much for you both to reach ecstasy. you could see choso nibble on the softness of his bottom lip hissing against your spine from behind, choso’s black hair falls softly down his shoulders, framing his sharp features and angelic features it’s was enough to crumple underneath him.

the dimlights cause the beads of sweat on his forehead to sparkle, making him even prettier as they glisten. the blush on his cheeks, however, is the most evident factor of all, it made him look innocent and shy even when he tries to take control of the situation for once. “that’s . .my good girl..”

“fuck . . . choso..“furthermore, your chests rise and fall heavily against each other, breathing heavily in each other’s presence, the high is slowly coming down, but choso doesn’t seem to be done with you yet. the friction of your bodies rubbing against each other is making him hot and bothered as well.

“yeah . . that’s it baby.” he muttered keeping a firm grip on your waist, holding you tightly against him with one hand, while the other lightly traces gentle circles up and down your body.

choso slowly pulls you to his chest as he embraces you tightly, wrapping his arms around you now that you’re both starting to calm down. you feel his strong and warm embrace as he holds you close to him, burying his face into your neck. “ . . but I’m far from done, baby heh . .”

as the friction between your bodies eases, you’re both taking deep breaths and slowing down your heartbeats, still holding each other tightly in a soft moment. the heat is starting to die down, but the memory of your earlier passion is still fresh on both of your minds. choso’s arms are still wrapped tightly around you, holding onto you fondly and comfortably, as if he doesn’t want to let you go.

@preciousamethyst @hoshigray @screampied @shaguro

#jjk smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso x reader #jjk fic #jjk x you #jjk imagines #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #jjk x y/n #choso x you #choso kamo x you #jjk drabbles #jjk choso #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #choso x y/n #choso kamo x y/n #x female reader #jujutsu kaisen drabbles

[doflamingadonquixote]

Worthy {PT 1/2}

Parings: Lucifer Morningstar x Sinner!Dom!Reader

Warnings: no one in this chapter, just a little bit of swearing and an hurt/comfort situation

Words: don’t know, more than 7000

Summary: After returning to the hotel from a day at work, you find Lucifer sitting alone and in misery. A confrontation ensues that you would never have imagined in your unlife.

A/N: English is not my first language, I apologize for any errors but I also rely heavily on a translator. Criticisms and your opinions are always welcome. I decided to divide this mini ff into TWO parts. The second will be more spicy. Let me know who would like to be mentioned for next part! Enjoy!

You rushed in through the front door, waving your umbrella and shaking off the drops of acid rain that were quickly eating away at your jacket.

It was the fourth this week. Something was going wrong with the weather in the circle of pride.

The room had probably emptied by now given the time. There were only a few little sinners left in the armchair, entertaining themselves with their phones.

Their rooms must surely be near Alastor's radio tower. After several complaints it was discovered that the closer you were to it, the more those little gadgets seemed to have problems or interference.

“Don't be too late. Tomorrow morning Charlie will set up the new program for the week.” You communicated to them, moving behind the chair and letting a hand ruffle the younger sinner's hair.

He muttered something but nothing that was too rude towards you. As you approached the staircase back to your rooms, a white-clad figure at the bar caught your attention.

Lucifer was bent with his elbows on the table, between his fingers a half-full glass of some liquor that he had stolen from Husk's supplies.

With a loud sigh he brought it to his lips but before it could reach them, your fingers blocked the advance of the glass, pushing it down by the top again.

Lucifer turned to look at you quickly but his shoulders visibly relaxed when he acknowledged your presence.

“Whatever answer you are looking for, you won’t find it in that glass, sir.” You warned him and, in the distraction of his gaze on you, you slipped the glass from his hand, brought it to your mouth and emptied the contents down your throat.

The liquid burned faintly, causing you to cough barely. Yes, it had definitely touched Husk's good reserve.

“You've been out a long time today. Any news?” He asked as he watched you set the glass down in the sink, beyond the counter.

“Not much, really. Sinners are still very hesitant.” You shrugged but turned a happy smile on him. “At least they listen now, though. They don't accept, but they listen to what you have to say. Small steps.”

You and Lucifer met after Charlie hired you while she was in a meeting with Camilla. You worked with her in the beginning, identifying potential clients all around the circle.

Charlie probably saw some salesmanship in you that she could also exploit in convincing sinners to redeem themselves.

You were not a longtime sinner. You had recently died so you hadn’t had a chance to take an interest in the royal family.

The first time you saw Lucifer you expected something more threatening, malevolent.

Instead, you had been confronted by a little jumping baked bean who made pancakes in profusion for breakfast.

You had immediately sympathized with his personality. You considered yourself a very mild-mannered fellow so his influence was a healthy touch for your motivation as well.

You had also worked together on some proposals to present to the newcomers though with some difficulty in agreeing among yourselves.

For some strange reason his idea about the duck pool exceeded yours in preference. Seeing the hotel sinners enjoying themselves in the yellow duck pile was hilarious and utterly unbelievable.

Because of that, you had grown very close to the King and respected him very much.

Therefore, seeing him in such a pitiful state as he was in at that very moment threw a sense of unease upon you.

“Shitty day for you too?” You asked, almost as if you were disinterested. If he didn't want to answer, he could have ignored you and not felt forced to necessarily say anything.

However, the soft sound of sobbing reached your ears loud and clear.

You turned quickly but his face was bent away from you on his shoulder, not allowing you to look at him properly.

The only thing you could see was the tremor in his back and how his hands had closed forcibly on his crossed arms, resting on the counter.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched the two remaining little sinners giggle over something they had seen on their phones, oblivious to what was happening a few feet away from them.

You didn't know what to do. Touching him seemed to be too much, and you weren't sure of your comforting skills at that moment. You felt you did not know him well enough to afford certain words of comfort.

So you did the only thing you thought wise.

Hide him.

Your coat slipped over him with a gentle rustle, covering him totally from head to toe thanks to your stature.

Lucifer turned in wonder at you, his eyes bright and red with unshed tears under the loose hood falling over his face.

You gave him a smile as his cheeks turned a soft rose color.

“You know, if you have any problems you can talk to me, right? I can't assure you a very good therapy session but I think it's good just to talk about it.”

The ex Angel remained motionless for a few seconds, and you read the situation as a choice to prefer silence.

You didn't blame him, in fact you were a little embarrassed that you had the temerity to propose such a thing to him.

You got up from your chair, ready to say good night to him and retreat when one of his black hands twisted around your wrist, preventing you from moving further away.

You blinked a few seconds, confused but returned with your butt to the chair, your body fully toward him.

“Today is eight years since Lilith left.”

You smiled sadly. You had to understand that Lilith was the reason. After all, she alone had the ability to make him unhappy, besides his daughter but she never made him unhappy.

“Oh, that must suck.”

“Yeah.”

You frowned. After eight whole years had the man still not moved on? And Lilith hadn't even deigned to give an explanation or try to communicate with him the whole time? What man waits for his wife for eight years without moving on with his own life? How could she refuse the love of such a pure being?

Fuck, she really doesn't deserve him! If only he were yours…

“Do you really think so?”

Lucifer's voice made you jerk.

“What?” You asked confusedly, forcing your heart to suppress that senseless anger born out of nowhere.

“What you said, that she doesn't deserve me...” his lips quivered and his eyes had reached the size of those of an needy dog.

Shit, had you said that out loud!?

“Um, I think so,” you shook your head, looking away from him. “I'm sorry, I had no authority to say that. It's just...I don't know...you're an exceptional person, Lucifer. You deserve the best.”

You bit your lip. That drink really must have had powerful effects to let you open up so much with a being who could disintegrate you with a snap of his fingers.

“I..…T-Thank you.”

Flabbergasted, you noticed how the king's pale face was slowly turning a scarlet red and stretching to below the collar of his shirt.

He was flattered by your words? Did he not intend to kill you for disrespecting him?

“I only said what I think.” You added at the end, as if to solidify that you had gotten away with it.

You went back to looking in front of you, now unsure of how to continue that conversation, and you noticed how a light complexion had been added to your own cheeks as well.

But it seemed that Lucifer had not finished.

“If I were yours...”

The lump of saliva you were trying to get down stuck in your throat and you began to cough convulsively in surprise.

“D-did you hear that too?!”

What the hell was wrong with you that day? You had never been so brazen and indelicate. But there was something about Lucifer that set off all the right points for you.

You couldn't reason with him.

“Do you mean it? Would you appreciate me if I was?”

His body language had changed. He still looked embarrassed but the way he leaned toward you, the fluttering eyelashes and a little pout on his lips clearly told you that something had changed for the better.

You didn't blame Eva for accepting that damn apple. The man was driving you crazy and you were sure he knew it.

The hood of the vest over his face brushed your forehead, awakening you from the little trance you had entered.

“I would. I would adore you as the king you are and deserve to be.” Your hand reached his neck, preventing him from advancing any further. “But you are not in the right condition, sir. I don't want to take advantage-“

He puts a finger to your lips, forcing you to be silent while, with the other, he gently supports your face.

“Show me.”

#hazbin hotel #dom reader #sub lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer #lucifer morningstar

[delphi-shield]

OLD FOLKS HOME ↪ age gap hcs

the people you love & the shit they do that reminds you of the dreaded Gap (tm). characters included: leon kennedy, chris redfield, jill valentine, claire redfield, rebecca chambers no warnings to speak of. remember kids, if you're gonna date people in their 30s and 40s, you're gonna have different cultural contexts and, most likely, different senses of humor.

Leon is eight levels of irony deep. He started doing Old Guy Shit just to mess with you, and now it's all come full circle. 

It turns out he actually likes watching the weather channel. He’s monitoring storms that are miles and miles away from you, pointing out the feeder bands like it’s some kind of sporting event. 

He's genuinely invested in Ice Road Truckers. He asks you to TiVo it for him when he's gone. You do not have TiVo. In fact, you're pretty sure no one still has TiVo. 

Or you were, until Leon once again committed to the bit and got TiVo.

Really, genuinely annoying about old movies, actors, and directors.

”What do you mean you don’t know who Robert Redford is? The Candidate? Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid? C’mon. He was even in an episode of The Twilight Zone. You’ll know him when you see him.”

At least you get movie dates out of it.

Movie dates that he will pepper with trivia about the film, by the way. You don't need the commentary track. He is the commentary.

I'm so, so sorry about this. 🤪 is his favorite emoji. I know. I'm sorry.

Chris cannot fucking hear. To be honest, I think most of them have some degree of hearing loss - but Chris in particular seems to have very subjective hearing loss.

Yes, you were just having a full-fledged conversation. No, he didn’t hear you ask him to take out the trash. He didn’t forget, he just didn’t hear you. Sorry, you were standing on his right - come on, you know that’s his bad side.

Explains basic technology to you because he’s not sure if you know what it is. Then, in the same breath, crams in so many military acronyms he may as well be reciting the alphabet. Does not explain the acronyms.

Like, yeah, Chris. I know what a landline is. Dial-up internet, too. Now, what the fuck is an ORE?

Have you ever gotten ‘ok’ in response to a nude? You’re about to. Completely demoralizing, by the way.

He didn't know you wanted him to compose a poem dedicated to your beauty, okay? He tries to get better, but winds up sending shit like 'wow 👍'

Does the dad thing where he insists he's not interested in watching what's on TV and then stands with his hands on his hips in the middle of the living room, enthralled by the show.

Jill does not understand your music. She will not make an attempt to understand your music. If you see her tapping her foot to the beat, no you do not. She is not interested in expanding her musical horizons.

She only bought you tickets to that concert because she knew you would love it. She only went with you because you’re cute when you’re so into this stuff. She only bought that t-shirt because it would be a good souvenir, and eventually, a good grease rag.

Generalized distrust of social media. Do not show her a tiktok. She will ignore the video and lecture you about data safety. Jill, please. Just watch the fucking cat video.

And then she turns around and opts in to literally everything on the McDonald's app.

If there’s a rewards program, she’s in. Already sold. Didn’t even read the fine print. All that shit she was telling you about how you need to be more careful is right out the window for some free fries.

Anything for the thrill of a good deal. If she had more time on her hands, she would be couponing.

Buys in bulk. No, it doesn't matter if the two of you could not physically eat that much rice. It's cheaper to buy it like this. It's fine. It's good for you.

Gotta stock up on non-perishables, too. You gotta be prepared in case something happens. "Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."

Claire cannot stop shopping from QVC. She's in the kitchen with David. It Takes Two with Mary and Sandra? Wrong. It actually takes three. Mary, Sandra, and Claire.

Infomercials have got her by the throat. You have so many gadgets and gizmos around your home that are just collecting dust.

Gets wine drunk and goes online shopping. Legitimately does not remember what she’s bought.

Absolutely will not let you open the packages. (“Some of this stuff could be for you, you know.” “Claire, last time it was a 10,000 count package of googly eyes.” “And I used all 10,000. You still haven’t found them all.”)

Uses every piece of technology until it’s about to fall apart. Absolutely not interested in having the latest and greatest. She’s one of those people who insists that as long as her phone can make calls and send texts, she doesn’t need a new one.

Speaking of texts. Somehow, she got it into her head that a read receipt is equivalent to a reply. She doesn't get what the problem is. You know she saw your text. Why does she have to reply?

Genuinely doesn't mean anything malicious by it - but also, if you did that to her, you would never hear the end of it.

Rebecca legitimately has facebook humor. They all have some degree of facebook humor, but she's got it the worst. 

Will blow up your notifications tagging you in shit that is just straight up not funny. I’m talking full on tagging you with “😂😂😂”

Unironically sent you a minion meme once.

It's not that she's disconnected. She teaches undergrads. She knows what’s in, even if it’s only from the periphery. It’s just that she doesn’t care. She has no interest in keeping up with trends just for the sake of it. She’s so used to being the youngest person in the room and having to keep up expectations that she just absolutely does not care anymore. She's glad she's not one of the kids anymore.

If it made her laugh it made her laugh, her enjoyment isn’t shackled by feelings of shame!!

If you have a group chat on any platform with your friends please invite her. She's just happy to be included. She'll make a discord if she has to, and she'll brag about it to her students.

Yeah, she says pupper and doggo. She does. Look at her.

#resident evil headcanons #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #chris redfield x reader #jill valentine x reader #claire redfield x reader #rebecca chambers x reader #resident evil fanfic #resident evil #leon kennedy

[neet-elite]

*heavy breathing*

Can we have a Seb smut for either cockwarming him or being eaten out by him? Or whatever you want him to do-

Appprreeeciaaate you!

yes yes yes to both ideas, but my boy deserves some relaxing time after the torture we've put him thru recently on this blog </3

MDNI ♡ Warnings: (failed)cockwarming, that's literally it lol

WC: 1205

A shiver runs the length of his spine with every miniscule movement you make, which in turn only causes his hips to rut deeper into you despite his better intentions. A lovesick back and forth that he swears he's determined to set straight, but perhaps you know him better than he knows himself. Or, maybe he's just good at lying to himself. The thought of resisting your temptation is lofty, but surely he has enough self composure to withstand you, right?

"Quit it, would ya?" he laughs warmly, a deep rumble in his chest that soon turns into a hushed gasp of selfish enjoyment when you shift around some more. Because while he does want you to settle nicely, he can't deny how good it feels to have your insides squirm around his leaking cock all nicely, fondness dripping his words and actions when he splays a flat palm over your exposed thigh. "Need to focus a bit, 'kay? Just a little. Then I promise you'll have my full attention."

"Mhm." you reply simply, all soft and sweet as if you were the picture of innocence; if not for the fact that your lower half is completely naked and your cunt is hugging his cock so well, fuck—

And he's not lying about needing to focus; it's partly your own fault too. Coding program open for him to type at, if only you'd finally find a comfortable position to sit in on his lap. He helps a little, leaning back to give you some more leg room before scooching the chair in closer to his desk when you reposition. He knows you've found your final resting spot when you let out a satisfied sigh, and yet still;

"Comfy?" he wants to double check, prioritising your wellbeing over anything else when he draws light circles against your leg as you nod. Perfect, he's comfy too. Unbelievably horny, but comfortable, a special kind of domestic love thrumming through him with a quiet hum. So comfortable in fact that he easily resumes his work. Typing away at his current project with occasional clearings of his throat, brief pauses to re-collect his composure when your cunt 'accidentally' squeezes around his drooling tip. Gently shushing you with quiet coos when you get a bit too restless for his liking, even if he understands completely. He wants to fuck you so bad too.

But you promised to be good and cockwarm him for a little, didn't you? It'd been his idea to begin with. A fantasy he's always wanted to indulge in but just never had the thought to actually bring it up. But when torn between satisfying you for tonight and meeting his strict work deadline, he had to think of something. And he must admit that you look so pretty when struggling to keep your cool with his cock buried balls deep in your angel cunt, a loving smile spread across his lips when he sees just how difficult it is for you to remain still. A knowing one at that, because he too is struggling to keep the sweat of his brow, arm muscles taut with the amount of strain it takes for him to appropriately hold back for works sake.

"Doing so good, babe." he whispers down your ear, biting down on his bottom lip with a roll of his eyes when you merely whine in response, feeling your cunt squeeze harder around his cock simply from hearing his voice. Fuck, that's so hot. "Do that again." he begs of you, a natural response to the tight pulse of your cunt, but one he promptly regrets when his hands instantly fly off his keyboard when you give him what he wants and instead dig into your waist, forcing your hips down, down against his throbbing cock to drool more precum against the deepest parts of you like he isn't trying to focus on work at the moment.

Which he is, remember. A frustrated groan escaping him as he shakes his head in an attempt to refocus, but the feeling of your weight shifting back, and then forward again, almost convinces him to give in.

Instead, he slaps at your thigh, letting out a breathy laugh at the downright dirty sound his reprimand smacks out of you. "I- I need to focus, babe. Seriously." he tries to scold you, but his voice betrays him when it comes out so light-hearted and soft, almost like an encouragement to keep distracting him to the point that he simply has to rail you into his sheets until you can't walk, which is what he would be doing if he didn't do that every other day of the week to the point that he's left his project to the very last minute.

But the way your voice comes out so pitifully, barely there above the thump of his own hammering heart, a meek little "'M trying, Seb. Promise." that conveys just how much you need him; he'd be a rotten boyfriend if he didn't indulge you at least a little more, right? At least that's what he tells himself, a flimsy reasoning to instinctively start rocking you back and forward on his cock until you get the message through your lust filled mind and start moving yourself.

Luckily it's a slow enough pace that he can kind of focus on his work, fingers just itching to be back on your body, to roam up and down it and squeeze at your pretty fucking tits, shit— focus, Sebastian. Trembling over his keyboard with half-hearted attempts at coding, which turn truly useless when his cock pulses inside of you with greed, the computer chair under him squeaking ever so slightly as he helps you set a more gratifying pace with a lazy back and forth of his own hips.

A gentle curse crawls up his throat when he leans into the feeling of your slick coating his cock some more, completely covering his length all the way down to his balls. A sickly squelch soon filling the room as his hands remain tense and stationary, hovering above his keyboard more than anything else, as if the illusion of working was enough for him in the moment, your perfect little cunt coaxing him into moving with more commitment into you when you moan his name so sweetly.

"Baby..." he trails off into a similar moan, throwing his head back in sheer bliss from the slow tandem thrusts. "Really— ah, fuck— I gotta, uh... Gotta—" his train of thought is lost the moment you lift your hips, breath caught in his throat to brace himself for what comes next.

He's got no chance of simply cockwarming you when you start bouncing on his cock, and you fucking know it. Knocking the wind out of him as soon as you slap back down, all caution thrown to the wind the second you start to rise again. And because he's greedy, his hands find home on your waist once again to be the one fucking you, thrusting up into your wet little hole over and over again as the previous cockwarming offer is readily forgotten about.

You just feel better than the payment his project offers, he thinks.

#💌mail #appreciate u too friend !!!! #<3 #sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv sebastian smut

[sleepynegress]

THIS ISN'T COMMON KNOWLEDGE BUT SHOULD BE...ABOUT MEDICAID....

If you ever find yourself in the position of living in the home of a parent who is disabled and requires full-time care and you are their primary caregiver for at least 2 years, and they intend to leave their assets to you after they pass, make sure to transfer ownership of their assets, home/land in your name ASAP...or they will require you to pay back any benefits received and claim those assets even out from under you, as soon as your loved one passes. This is yet another way that generational assets /wealth are easily taken out of marginalized communities. It is a loan.

And the sharks circle as soon as your loved one passes. Here's an article about it:

Decided to add context. I don't like to talk about it here, because ehh, social media is for my vapid entertainment thoughts for me. It's a hobby/getaway/ place to get semi-social with strangers and online friends with shared interests, but I don't want anyone else to go through what I am... Of course, this applies specifically to the U.S.'s broken healthcare system. So, for those who don't know, my mom passed recently. I am an only child with no siblings or children. My whole life during that time was 24/7 care. She had insurance, but it wasn't enough to cover everything that she needed, so Medicaid was the obvious solution, right? The government takes care of our disabled elderly who have worked until retirement, right? It seemed like the routine thing to do, I had never heard anything during the process about having to pay it back,but sure enough, less than 12 weeks after her passing, I was hit with a warning (which I followed up on and was told I would NOT be charged because of my caregiver status) and then 2 weeks later the "bill". The lady I spoke to, totally changed her attitude from the first time I spoke to her to the point where I felt scammed. Out came a patronizing voice certain people use with children, that measured whiny thing (it's always a red-flag to me and makes me instantly dislike you if you do this even with kids, btw... speak to kids like PEOPLE). I feel like an idiot. I have been doing this for over a decade and didn't think to transfer any assets of hers during that time because it *was* hers. I wanted her to feel as empowered about that as possible.

Not a single soul said I should transfer those assets to keep this from happening and now I'm facing down what feels like some kind of weird conspiracy to take the land and house.

FYI, there have been weird inquiries, the census came to mark down my mother's death literally *immediately* after she passed...and odd timing called the day of the notice to "help", with all the southern Christian signifiers (bless your heart we'll be praying for you).... It feels so seedy. Anyway, all this to say if you find yourself in a similar position....

TRANSFER THOSE ASSETS INTO YOUR NAME 2 years into caregiving or they will take them from you, house etc..

#medicaid #currently dealing with this #hoping to get a waiver #I'm doing what i can to navigate the system...I hope to negotiate a lower settlement or something... I can pay part since I did save some #I am terrified and coming off some illnesses myself #I am working on it with someone (s) who has some knowledge of the system #whatever happens I'll keep you updated...again if/when there's a solution I'll share to help others PASS ALONG this knowledge #to all you know this could potentially effect

[innerthighfest]

A Normal Night In

After a late class and a long commute home, I finally reach the steps of my complex. Looking up at the landing one flight up, I gulp. Without looking down, I feel for the base of my massively pregnant belly. 

I had gone abroad for a semester and during my last week there I had a one night stand that resulted in me getting pregnant. Now, at just over 43 weeks, I shift my weight side to side up each step. "Ooohh..." I quietly moan, the underside of my pregnant belly needing as much support as it can get as I climb the stairs.

Once at the top I know it's not yet the end. So far the babies in my belly haven't been too disturbed, movement is felt but there is some hope I can at least make it to my door without stopping for a contraction.

Waddling down the hall, I press my now free hand against my back, forcing my belly forward and blocking most of my view of the floor. 

With a little satisfaction of making it through the day and finally into my apartment, I reward myself with a shower. The warm water relaxes my muscles as I close my eyes and let the water run over my expectant body. I rub a creamy soap lather all over naked belly.

When I used to brush my teeth I would stand with my face nearly cheek to the mirror, now I stand brushing a couple feet away, my abdomen swollen and protruding out, grazing the cold sink ahead of me. My shower steamed hands warming the lotion I smooth over my pregnant swell.

I throw on whatever clothes I can find, a white T-shirt that clings tight to my body, belly hanging out from the bottom, and the comfiest sweatpants I can manage to pull up. 

I walk past a wide full length mirror as I exit my bedroom. My belly full of babies is huge and incredibly round. Over 9 months pregnant I stand there, admiring my belly in the reflection. It's surreal. I'm a bit turned on. 

I relocate to the couch, a futon with no side arms. I use both hands to lower myself safely onto the cushions, a process that can only compare to an entire upper body workout. I adjust, my T-shirt slides up a bit higher revealing my sizeable baby belly more, still in view of my mirror, I take myself in. 

*Sigh*, I feel so relaxed. Being this pregnant is no easy feat, it's almost as if the mysterious man who impregnated me wasn't human at all given the sheer size of the babies making my belly throb. In a masochist way I enjoy the physical struggle of being this bred.

A couple hours pass and I start to get sleepy, but the babies inside me had other ideas. I aimlessly flip through channels in an attempt to distract myself, one hand on the remote, the other nursing a sore spot on my belly from a strong kick. 

"Hsssss ahh...ooouu, settle down..." I say softly, adjusting my small frame under the weight of my heavy, overdue belly, both hands now soothing the dull ache. "Haaaa...ohh... Ooo okay, okay, hooo..." I winch at the sharp pains low in my womb, the hand cradling the base of my huge belly moves instinctively in circles to soften the pain while the other supports my delicate body against the couch. My thin eyeglasses fogging slightly from the heat I am feeling.

I can almost swear I am seeing myself getting bigger. The television program partly obstructed behind my fullness as I feel a contraction rip through me. Arching my back forward I trail my hands down from my ribs to my groin. "Haa, haa, ooo, calm down." I mutter, breathless as my abdomen tightens.

I pull my sweats down, the waistband irritating the underside of my swollen midsection. My shirt rides up once more. "Ahhh...hsss" I throw my head back, the pressure in my cervix is dull and unbearable and yet I am aroused more and more with every orbit my hand completes around my swollen belly. 

This contraction is far from over, but during a lull in the pain I manage to engage the trigger on the futon, swiftly flattening it out into a bed. Adjusting, I spread my legs and lean forward, my weight on my calves and knees. Returning upright I begin to rub in large, slow circles.

I pant longingly to please myself through this contraction as I stare at myself lustfully, but I can barely get a solid grip on my throbbing, hard shaft. I begin swaying my hips back and forth against a strategically placed pillow. My arousal grows, my baby belly expanding with each deep breath in. "Hsss" my hands circle once more, "ooooo" "oh, oh wow, oooooooooo!" I groan as the contraction gets stronger, watching the skin on my belly twitch and tighten in the bedroom mirror as I sway, making me that much harder. The glow of the TV illuminating the lotion on my heavily pregnant belly making it look that much bigger in the mirror's reflection. 

Rocking my lower body in pleasure as much as I can, I feel nothing but a sore, dull ache from deep within, making me feel sick with pain. "Haaaa oooh, fuck!" it almost feels like my water is going to break. "oh oooohhh mmmmmm...okay...okay..." but it never does. I press hard against my sides then trail my hands down the under-curve of my belly. "Ha Haa, ooooooo...oh wow, wow, hssss..." my whole body cried to start pushing, my back about to snap in two from arching so far backwards, trying my best to lovingly soothe my aching pregnant belly as the wave of pain finally washes away.

 It's almost as if the babies inside me don't want to come out, my already heavily pregnant belly will continue to grow and I won't fully reach orgasm until I finally give birth. I am being teased. What did I do to deserve such a lasting reward from a one night stand? I think to myself as I manage to get to my feet, exhausted, yearning for sleep.

Making my way closer to the lengthy mirror I am impressed by the sheer size of myself, all babies within still moving subtly under my skins surface. I turn to the side to close my door and notice that i have indeed become more pregnant than before. Maybe those werent contractions at all, but rather growing pains. I may get to enjoy this for a while longer, but I can feel the end is near as I notice my heavy baby belly has dropped ever so slightly. I get cozied in bed, my hardness never subsiding as I stroke my continuously maturing belly goodnight.

Just another normal night in.

#male pregnancy #mpreg belly #mpreg #mpreg kink #mpreg fic #mpreg story #contractions

[19ndonboy]

religion’s in your lips - mason mount

words: 2.1k

A/N: back again with a new imagine. i hope y’all will like this one, feedback is appreciated!! thank you

you could feel soft lips on your shoulders as you slowly drifted off sleep. you opened your eyes, adjusting them to the light passing through the curtains as they landed on your boyfriend. and years later, you still found your heart doing a somersault. you thought about how lucky you were to have this view every morning and you wouldn’t change it for anything else in the world.

you turned your head to face him and as you whispered a quiet “hi”, he felt his heart skipping a beat. he was so in love with you, he feared it could destroy him. he kept on his trail of kisses from your shoulders to your jaw to end up on your face as he counted them.

“18” on the mole on your right cheek, “19” on the tip of your nose, “20” on your eyelid as you closed your eyes with a smug smile plastered on your face, “21” on your forehead, “22” on your pink lips.

a kiss which ended up being messy as you couldn’t stop yourself from stupidly giggling as he thought about how he would turn the world upside down if he had to to hear your laugh over and over again.

“happy birthday my love” were his words that erupted a crimson taint on your cheeks. and with words minimizing how full of love your heart held for the man in front of you, you cupped his head and passionately kissed him. and you were hoping he could hear your heart exploding in you just as much as you could hear his.

you pulled away from his lips and he gave you his signature look, the one that got you weak to the knees before kissing your forehead as only him had the secret recipe to that warm and safe feeling that was spreading through your stomach. you laid your head on his bare chest as his hand found its usual spot in your hair, tangling them while you appreciated the peaceful silence surrounding the both of you.

and you don’t know how long you stayed here until all you could hear was your stomach growling, being too hungry to think about anything else but mason’s speciality, avocado toasts. you heard him chuckle behind you before he spoke “what do you think about getting out of bed, i’ll make you breakfast and then we can do what i planned for this special day” with a smirk on his face. he had a way with words and he knew it. you nodded and then made your way downstairs to the kitchen with mason following you.

he wasn’t happy with that though. before you could even realize, he had lifted you up and you were on his shoulders, you let out a high-pitched sound before laughing out loud. his favorite sound in the whole world, he repeats every time he hears it. he sat you down on a chair, asking you not to do anything as it was your day, “just like every other day” he would say when soppiness got to his head.

so you spent the next ten minutes watching him go in circles between a drawer and a frying pan in your kitchen while he was humming to your taylor swift playlist. and he took your hand to dance with you when the famous song 22 started playing in the room, joking about how you had waited an eternity to “relate to those words”.

you, then, both took your plate and went to sit on the sofa in your living room and started to eat in front of a random tv program, paying little to no attention to it as you were talking about your plans for the day. although, your birthday was never something you were looking forward to and therefore there was never much celebration on that day and it had been like that for years. but that was until you met him. he always made sure you knew how much you were loved and appreciated by people around you and he swore to himself, a smile would be the only trait visible on your face on that special date.

having finished your avocado toasts, he stood up, gave you a quick kiss on your head and excused himself two minutes as he ran upstairs. he returned right after with a box in his hand and a grin plastered on his face. you hid your face in your hands, which provoked a laughter from mason. you grumbled as he took your hands in his to make you look at him. “mason, you know i didn’t want anything for my birthday” you said, barely audible. “y/n i know but i wanted to. please, take it” he said while kissing each one of your knuckles.

you opened it and found a smaller black box, you gave him a quick glance before opening it and what came to your sight was a necklace with a gold heart locket. you opened it and what you weren’t expecting was a note with the words “forever and always, m” in it. a first sob left your lips and you couldn’t stop the ones following it. he held you tight and your head found itself in the crook of his neck, thanking him a hundredth time. he kissed your forehead, and waited for your sobs to subside. “hey hey, no crying on your birthday” and your sobs turned into giggles. “this is the best present i could’ve asked for mason, tha-“ he stopped you knowing another thanks was on its way. “your day is not over baby, get ready and wear a bikini” he instructed you to as he winked, making you roll your eyes as you did like he said and ran upstairs to your wardrobe to get ready for the day.

you put on your favorite blue bikini, your pink and orange crochet dress and you were ready to leave for his surprise destination. he was wearing a linen white shirt, one of your favorites, and a black short and all you could think about was how you wanted to unbutton his shirt and take it off. he was so handsome, the prettiest man you ever laid your eyes on, you thought. you hopped in his car, your playlist ready to be played through the car speakers. kendrick lamar’s song was starting and you were good to go, not knowing where he was leading the two of you, excitement filling you.

an hour and a half and you could see a beach in front of you. he knew how much you loved the beach, as it reminded you of what used to be home for you in your country. he was happy with his surprise when he landed his eyes on you and saw you smile. lucky for you two, there weren't much people here that day. being too excited to leave for the day, you didn’t even realize when mason put a basket full of chocolate chip cookies and a bottle of hard lemonade in his car. looking at the cookies like a kid on christmas day, you sat on the beach blanket and ate one.

and you spent the next hours just like that. eating cookies, drinking lemonade, laughing, kissing each other, talking and appreciating the moment. you couldn’t have asked for anything better as the two of you thought back to your first date.

“you know i was so nervous before. i called christian and he couldn’t stop making fun of me.” you laughed as it was the first time that you were hearing about this. “hey don’t laugh! him and nicole literally joked about how much i was sweating last week. they laughed about how smitten i was already back then” he blushed and you couldn’t stop yourself from pecking his lips “and they were right.”

“idiot” you rolled your eyes, although you’d never admit that his words made you feel dizzy. “that was the most chaotic date ever” as you recalled. “god, it had started so well in that café. stupid joke after stupid joke and i was asking myself how lucky did i get to be here with you. and i remember how neither one of us wanted to end it here so we went on a walk.” you could hear him laughing as you continued. “and then it just started pouring and as people with common sense, we ran to a store to get umbrellas”

“and that’s when i knew you were it for me.” you couldn’t hide the frown on your face at his words. “we got out of the store and before you opened the umbrella, you looked at your face through a car window, saw the mascara stains on your face and erupted in laughter.”

“mason, i hit your face with that umbrella a few seconds after. how-“ you both laughed at how concerned you sounded, clearly a tree had knocked into him to come to this conclusion at this time, you thought. “i know some people would have ran away after how this date ended but not me, that was the best one i ever had. from the moment i saw you enter that cafe in that little black dress to the moment i let you in the front door, my vision blurry because of the blow.”

you couldn’t stop your heart from beating so fast. you never knew this was how he felt after your first date. you know you made it here after this but you never thought he had felt like that. he kissed you, the kiss getting more heated by the second and you had to stop the two of you before going too far on the beach. he wrapped his arms around your body and you laid down on the beach blanket, kisses left on each part of your skin he had access to. and you stayed in this position for the next few hours, watching the sunset with no desire to leave this beautiful place for now.

eventually you had to go home and this day was slowly coming to an end. your hand in his, you made your way to his car and went home. his hand rested on your thigh the whole ride, making you feel safe and all giddy inside. he parked his car in the porch, flexing his biceps which earned him a slap on his shoulder as you feigned to be disgusted. he was so stupid and why were you laughing like a 15 years old girl?

you made your way inside and left your shoes in the entrance, taking the basket with you to put everything you took with you away. mason then took you with him and led the both of you to your bathroom. there was no better way to keep going with your day than to hop in the shower with your boyfriend. the two of you undressed yourself before getting under the steamy water. he grabbed your shower gel and started to wash your back, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck to your lower back.

your turn to wash him arrived and while doing so, you left kisses here and there on his collarbones, his shoulders, feeling him shiver under your touch. water soon turned cold and you both got out of the shower. picking pajamas for the night – one of mason’s shirts for you. and when you thought that this day could not get any better than this, you heard the doorbell. confusion written all over your face, you followed mason downstairs and saw him with a bag from your favorite japanese restaurant. food he had ordered during the day without you noticing.

you sat on the sofa, a blanket covering your legs and you ate sushi in front of one of your favorite rom-com movies, how to lose a guy in 10 days. you couldn’t recall the amount of times you had watched this movie, mason being your first victim when it came to watching the same movies over and over again. but as much as you loved it, your eyes drooped, wearied after such a long and emotional day at the beach. mason, on his side, could sense your tiredness as you weren’t commenting on the movie like you would usually do.

tv off and before you knew, mason was bringing you to your shared bedroom, and next you were in your bed. he followed you right after turning the lights off and he had his arms wide open for you to engulf yourself into them. one last meaningful kiss shared and before you drifted off to sleep, you heard him whisper “you’re so special y/n, i don’t think you’ll ever realize what you do to me”.

tag: @10vnderhaze @mountymase @fallinforerling

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount fanfic #mason mount concept

[arriansarchive]

Bottom!Dom!Carl Gallagher/Male!Top!Sub!Milkovich!Reader

This one's been in my mind for a while but I haven't acted upon my urges

Warnings since I forget to do them a lot: edging, pinching??? painplay????, other smut stuff, getting caught

Like season 10/11??? It doesn't really specify or anything but he's an adult

I've also decided to switch my name tag from y/n to m/n so yeah (i might forget in later stories so idk)

I used the word cock again be proud. im evolving

Summary: Porn

A simple day for junk food and TV programs. Well, that's what it was supposed to be before Carl got any bright ideas as usual.

Mickey had chaperoned you over to the Gallagher house after a job interview to help him with a few things, but you ended up just sitting with your boyfriend for a while. It wasn't the most productive thing you could be doing though nobody cared but Mickey.

By this time you both had gotten a few drinks down, and you were successfully quite tipsy. Not drunk to the point of delirium but not all there either.

You were barely paying attention to the TV until a rather heated, weirdly even, sex scene popped up. Carl laughed a little before leaning back in his seat.

A few minutes went past and in the corner of your eye you saw Carl stiffen, his mouth in a straight line. He seemed uncomfortable.

"You good?" You lolled your head over from the back of the couch to stare deeply at him.

He looked over at you, seemingly contemplating something before he lunged at you with full force. Carl pushed you back onto the couch vigorously with a elated look, straddling you.

"Don't tell me that shitty sex scene actually got to you." You rolled your eyes, but your breath automatically hitched whenever he grinded against you.

You tried to maneuver your way out from under him, but Carl held you down with such force that you didn't know where it even came from.

"I'm not going under today." He declares while shrugging off his jacket.

"Then what do you suggest we do?" You crossed your arms behind your head and yawned.

"You'll see." He muttered once he finally tugged his shirt over his head.

Carl started to unbutton the fancy shirt you had spent pretty much all your money on for your interview, but he decided to leave it on even after it was fully unbuttoned. Fucking in style or something like that.

He pressed his mouth up to yours needily. His hands were roaming your body and pinching you at random spots, making you flinch and groan into your boyfriend's mouth

You gasped lightly into Carl's mouth as his hands traveled down your dress pants, palming you roughly through your boxers. He had an evil smirk on his face.

"If you're this hard from me just doing that then you'd better prepare yourself." He whispered in your ear seductively.

You whimpered at the cold air whenever his hand left you, and your pants and boxers were pulled down.

Carl drug his hand up and down excruciatingly slowly for about a minute before teasing the tip with his thumb. The pad was circling the slit which was leaking steadily.

You were barely able to contain your noises of displeasure whenever he pulled away completely to take his own pants off but couldn't help to wonder what he was going to do next.

Suddenly he bent down from the couch and pulled out a few lube packets from one pocket of his pants.

"Were you planning this?" You managed to get out with a shakey voice.

He grinned. "Of course I was."

Carl was notorious for pain play with you. He loved doing it probably more than he loved normal sex without it, so no stretching wasn't a problem with him as he was usually the bottom.

He spread the lube over you, massaging around the base and tip mostly since he knew you were the most sensitive there.

You both groaned loudly in unison whenever he started to lower himself onto you. You were basically in agony from how slow he was going, and you could tell he was too.

You squeezed your eyes shut at the ecstasy that enveloped you at even the slight movement of his hips up and down on you. He had a maniacal look in his eyes.

He raised his legs up to where your tip was about to slip out and then slammed back down into you. Carl started a steady pace of this, not too fast but not too slow.

Both of your whimpers and groans were filling the silent, empty living room. Now that most of the Gallaghers were adults they weren't in the house a lot

Carl felt his wits end coming closer with each passing thrust, but yours was going even quicker. He had always noticed you were louder whenever you were about to finish.

Your hips spasmed as you came into Carl. He continued to bounce, chasing his orgasm while overstimulation engulfing your senses

Thick white ropes shot out of Carl rapidly with a loud scream of pleasure. You felt yourself start to harden once more and almost groaned in exhaustion.

He collapsed onto your chest, not bothering to take your cock out of him for the time being. It was silent until you both heard footsteps approach from the back door.

"Carl, what the hell are you doing?" A female voice yelped from the back of the couch.

"Tuning you out. What the hell does it look like?" He opened one eye passively and shrugged.

"Well, it looks like your fucking Mickey Milkovich's brother."

"That part is true too."

Your face flushed in embarrassment as Debbie and Carl argued back and forth about Franny's wellbeing and other concerns about fucking on the Gallagher house's couch. The words vomit and piss were used too much for your liking.

Ian's cackle became apparent from the kitchen along with Mickey's heavy footfalls.

"You fuckin' my brother, Gallagher?" He called.

You both decided to take your second round down to the basement. It's safe to say you got teased about it for a while after that.

#carl gallagher #shameless #carl gallagher x reader #carl gallagher x male reader #carl gallagher x y/n #carl gallagher x you #carl gallagher x m/n

[txttletale]

What are your criticisms of Chavismo and Maduro just out of curiosity?

now i'd like to preface this with a disclaimer that any opposition ghoul would do nothing but sell the country out to the USA and UK every which way in a heartbeat--maduro is better than any alternative, whether that's guaidó or whichever neoliberal puppet they prop up to replace him.

anyway, there were two key problems with chavismo. firstly, it's fundamentally a national-bourgeois led social democratic movement. obviously in an imperialized country like venezuela this made it profoundly progressive, and the achievments of the bolivarian revolution were incredible--chávez cut malnutrition in half, cut unemployment in half, sent millions of children to school and gave millions of elderly people pensions. however, this project of wealth distribution ultimately had to accomodate the national bourgeoisie. which of course on one hand you can argue was completely necessary, but on the other hand allowed the parasitic classes to entrench themselves firmly within elements of the state apparatus and made chavismo as a project entirely incapable of confronting the national bourgeoisie or corruption.

these of course are the realities of 'democratic socialism', of sweeping a socialist into office in a bourgeoise democracy. through some extremely clever political structures, such as the new constitution, communes, and bolicarian circles--he was able to move much more radically than most in his position. but ultimately, he could not escape the fundamental limits of the source and constraints of his power.

the second is that--and this is a very tawdry and obvious piece of analysis--while it is of course admirable and correct that he seized the nation's oil wealth and enriched the country with it--the way he did it was obviously shortsighted. without a sovereign wealth fund, worker's democratic control of the oil industry, or a solid and far-ranging investment plan, he laid the groundwork for some of the current crisis on the assumption that oil prices would stay high forever.

maduro inherited these faults and added far more of his own. during the crisis that began in earnest in 2016, the other shoe dropped wrt oil prices at the same time as the US tightened their murderous sanctions regime. faced with economic crisis, maduro has broadly chosen to move from chávez' strategy of accomodation with the national bourgeoisie to a full on alliance. social programs have been slashed, pensions cut, wages have plummeted, and worst of all, maduro has sold off countless state enterprises in the hope that oft-prayed to benevolent deity, "foreign capital" would miraculously heal the economy. in the course of this he made an enemy of many early chavistas, as well as the leftmost wing of chávez' coalition -- he has mobilized the full force of the bourgeois state against the country's communist party and other genuinely revolutionary movements, most gallingly the marxist-leninist movimiento tupamaro.

so, tldr: chavismo was genuinely radical compared to even your average third-world social democracy--however it remained fundamentally constrained in what it could accomplish by the lack of an actual proletarian state, was unable to rid itself of reliance on the national bourgeoisie for that same reason, and made some very avoidable mistakes in the handling of the nation's oil wealth--maduro inherited those flaws but has been much more accomodating to both national and international capitalists to the detriment of the people of venezuela.

#ask #brendanicus

[worstjourney]

The Millennials' Polar Expedition

A year ago today (23 Nov 2022), I launched Worst Journey Vol.1 at the Scott Polar Research Institute. This is the text of the speech I gave to the lovely people who turned up to celebrate.

As many of you know, my interest in the Terra Nova Expedition was sparked by Radio 4’s dramatisation of The Worst Journey in the World, now 14 years ago.  The story is an incredible story, and it got its claws into me, but what kept me coming back again and again were the people.  I couldn’t believe anyone so wonderful had ever really existed.  So when I finally succumbed to obsession and started reading all the books, it was the expedition members’ own words which I most cherished.  These were not always easy to come by, though, so plenty of popular histories were consumed as well.  Reading both in tandem, it soon became clear that, while there were some good books out there, there was a lot of sloppy research in the polar echo chamber as well.

I also discovered that no adaptation had attempted to get across the full scope of the expedition.  There has never been a full and fair dramatic retelling, all having been limited by time, budget, or ideology from telling the whole story truthfully.  I was determined that my adaptation would be both complete and accurate, and be as accountable as possible to those precious primary documents and the people who wrote them.

So the years of research began.  I moved to Cambridge to be able to drop in at SPRI and make the most of the archives.  Getting to Antarctica seemed impossible, but I went to New Zealand to get at least that much right, and on the way back stayed with relatives in Alberta, the most Antarctic place I could realistically visit.  I gathered reference for objects wherever I could.  Because Vol.1 takes place mainly on the Terra Nova, which is now a patch of sludge on the seabed off Greenland, I cobbled together a Franken-Nova in my mind, between the Discovery up in Dundee and the Star of India in San Diego.  I spent a week on a Jubilee Sailing Trust ship in order to depict tall-ship sailing correctly.  I’m sure I’ve still got loads of things wrong, but I did all I could, to get as much as I could, right.

But still, everyone I met who had been to Antarctica said, “you can’t understand Antarctica until you’ve been there, and you can’t tell the story without understanding Antarctica; you have to go.”  So I applied to the USAP’s Antarctic Artists and Writers Program, with faint hope, as they do “Ahrt” and I draw cartoons.  But I must have blagged a good grant proposal, because a year after applying, I was stepping out of a C-17 onto the Ross Ice Shelf.  The whole trip would have been worth it just to stand there, turn in a circle, and see how all the familiar photographs fit together.  But the USAP’s generosity didn’t stop there, and in the next month I saw Hut Point, Arrival Heights, the Beardmore Glacier (including the moraine on which the Polar Party stopped to “geologise”), and Cape Crozier, and made three visits to the Cape Evans hut.  Three!  On top of the visual reference I got priceless qualitative data.  The hardness of the sound.  The surprising warmth of the sun. The sugary texture of the snow.  The keen edge on a slight breeze.  The way your fingertips and toes can start to go when the rest of you is perfectly warm.  The SHEER INSANITY of Cape Crozier.  The veterans were right – I couldn’t have drawn it without having been there, but now I have, and can, and I am more grateful than I can ever adequately express.  With all these resources laid so copiously at my feet, all I had to do was sit down and draw the darn thing.  Luckily I have some very sound training to back me up on that.

Now, this is all very well for the how of making the book, and, I hope, interesting enough. But why?  Why am I putting so much effort into telling this story, and why now?

Well, it means a lot to me personally.  To begin to understand why, you need to know that I grew up in the 80s and 90s, at the height of individualist, goal-oriented, success-driven, dog-eat-dog, devil-take-the-hindmost neoliberalism.  It was just assumed that humans, when you get right down to it, were basically self-interested jerks, and I saw plenty of them around so I had no reason to question this assumption.  The idea was that if you did everything right, and worked really hard, you could retire at 45 to a yacht in the Bahamas, and if you didn’t retire to a yacht, well, you just hadn’t tried hard enough.  Character, in the sense of rigorous personal virtue, was for schmucks.  What mattered was success.  Even as my politics evolved, I still took it as a given that this was how the world worked, and that was how people generally were – after all, there was no lack of corroborating evidence.  So: I worked really hard.  I single-mindedly pursued my self-interest.  I made sacrifices, and put in the time, and fought my way into my dream job and all the success I could have asked for.

And then I met the Terra Nova guys.

What struck me most about them was that even when everything was going wrong, when their expectations were shattered and they had to face the cruellest reality, they were still kind.  Not backbiting, recriminating, blame-throwing, defensive, or mean, as one would expect – they were lovely to each other, patient, supportive, self-sacrificing; in fact the worse things got, the better they were.  They still treated each other as friends even when it wasn’t in their self-interest, was even contrary to their self-interest.  I didn’t know people could be like that.  But there they were, in plain writing, being thoroughly, bafflingly, decent.  Not just the Polar Party – everyone had to face their own brutal realities at some point, and they all did so with a grace I never thought possible.

It presented a very important question:

When everything goes belly-up, and you’re facing the worst, what sort of person will you be?

Or perhaps more acutely: What sort of person would you rather be with?

It was so contrary to the world I lived in, to the reality I knew – it was a peek into an alternate dimension, populated entirely with lovely, lovely people, who really, genuinely believed that “it’s not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game,” and behaved accordingly.  It couldn’t be real.  There had to be a deeper, unpleasant truth: that was how the world worked, after all.  I kept digging, expecting to hit bottom at some point, but I only found more gold, all the way down.  How could I not spend my life on this?

Mythology exists to pass on a culture’s values, moral code, and survival information – how to face challenges and prevail.  Scott’s story entered the British mythology, and had staying power, because it exemplified those things so profoundly for the culture that created and received it.  But the culture changed, and there were new values; Scott’s legacy was first inverted and then cast aside.  The new culture needed a new epic hero.  You’d think it would be Amundsen, the epitome of ruthless success, but “Make Plan – Execute Plan – Go Home” has no mythic value, so he didn’t stick.  The hero needed challenges, he needed setbacks, and he needed to win, on our terms.

Shackleton!  Shackleton was a winner!  Shackleton told us what we knew to be true and wanted to hear at epic volume: that if you want something badly enough, and try really hard, you will succeed!  (Especially if you can control the narrative.)  Scott, on the other hand, tells us that if you want something badly enough, and try really hard . . . you may nevertheless die horribly in the snow.  Nobody wants to hear that!  What a downer!  I think it’s no coincidence that Shackleton exploded into popular culture in the late 90s and has dominated it ever since: he is the mythic hero of the zeitgeist. I am always being asked if I’ll be doing Shackleton next.  He has six graphic novels already!  That is plenty!  But people still want to tell and be told his story, because it’s a heroic myth that validates our worldview.

That’s why I am so determined to tell the Scott story, because Scott is who we don’t realise we need right now – and Wilson, and Bowers, and Cherry, and Atch, and all the rest.  The Terra Nova Expedition is the Millennials’ polar expedition.  We’ve worked really hard, we’ve done everything we were supposed to, we made what appeared to be the right decisions at the time, and we’re still losing.  Nothing in the mythology we’ve been fed has prepared us for this.  No amount of positive attitude is going to change it.  We have all the aphorisms in the world, but what we need is an example of how to behave when the chips are down, when the Boss is not sailing into the tempest to rescue us, when the Yelcho is not on the horizon.  When circumstances are beyond your power to change, how do you make the best of your bad situation?  What does that look like? Even if you can’t fix anything, how do you make it better for the people around you – or at the very least, not worse?  Scott tells us: you can be patient, supportive, and humble; see who needs help and offer it; be realistic but don’t give in to despair; and if you’re up against a wall with no hope of rescue, go out in a blaze of kindness.  We learn by imitation: it’s easy to say these things, but to see them in action, in much harder circumstances than we will ever face, is a far greater help.  And to see them exemplified by real, flawed, complicated people like us is better still; they are not fairy-tale ideals, they are achievable. Real people achieved them.

My upbringing in the 80s milieu of selfishness, which set me up to receive the Scott story so gratefully, is hardly unique.  There are millions of us who are hungry for a counter-narrative.  My generation is desperate for demonstrations of caring, whether it’s activism or social justice or government policies that don’t abandon the vulnerable.  We’ve seen selfishness poison the world, and we want an alternative.  The time for competition is past; we must cooperate or perish, but we don’t know how to do it because our mythology is founded on competition.  The Scott story, if told properly, explodes the Just World Fallacy, and liberates us from the lie that has ruled our lives: that you make your own luck.  What happens, happens: what matters is how you respond to it.  My obsession with accuracy is in part to honour the men, and in part because Cherry was the ultimate stickler and he’d give me a hard time if I didn’t, but also because, if I’m telling the story to a new generation, I’m damn well going to make sure we get that much RIGHT.  It’s been really interesting to see, online, how my generation and the next have glommed onto polar exploration narratives, not as thrilling feats of derring-do, but as emotional explorations of found family and cooperative resilience.  We love them because they love each other, and loving each other helps get them through, and we want – we need – to see how that’s done.  It’s time to give them the Terra Nova story, and to tell it fully, fairly, and honestly, in all its complexity, because that is how their example is most useful to us.  Not as gods, and not as fools, but as real human beings who were excellent to each other in the face of disaster.  I only hope that I, a latecomer to their ways, can do them justice.

#scott expedition #terra nova expedition #the worst journey in the world #captain scott #polar party #robert falcon scott #birdie bowers #edward adrian wilson #bill wilson #character #millennials #polar exploration #heroic age #adventure #sociology #neoliberalism

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. . .

reasons kenny mccormick has been banned from us mall retail stores

sephora

definitely takes off running with a makeup pallet for marjorine

trips and falls into a rare beauty display

sprays an entire tester bottle of cologne in the fragrance section

hot topic

connected to the speakers somehow and played material girl bass boosted for 45 minutes straight

customer couldn’t find a shirt so he went in the back to search for it

attempted to climb the wall to get a shirt and ripped four wall hooks out

played tag with the hot topic employees in a skirt he didn’t pay for

spencers

taste tested every bottle of flavored lube in the store

shattered three ash trays on the floor

opened a pack of incense and lit it for a smell test

tried to sell a vibrator he didn’t pay for for double the price

zumiez

assembled a skateboard in the corner of the store and then skated around the entire store

tried on every sock in a pack of socks and tried to return them (he didn’t pay for them)

tried a hat on without realizing he had lice

victoria secret

took lingerie off the display model, spit in the bra, and put it back on

drank a bottle of perfume for $5

asked every employee if they thought his dick could fit in a thong

stood on top of a display table and danced, broke the table

ross

tried to fit into a onesie and ripped it

ate an entire eyeshadow pallet

hid inside of a rug until after closing

put his fist through a painting

apple store

set a picture of the inside of his nostril as the phone background

played cotton eyed joe staggered on every display device full volume

tried to return his samsung.. to the apple store.. that he didn’t get it from

accidentally spilled half a bottle of water on a macbook

h&m

played the penis game with craig from across the store

rode a skateboard he was forced to buy from zumiez across the store

spilled an entire bottle of hand sanitizer on the floor and then ran through it and fell on his ass

bath & body works

stole two pockets full of hand sanitizer

lathered his body in lotion and told the employees he was having an allergic reaction

spit in a bottle of perfume and took it to the counter and tried to get it for free because it was contaminated

lit five candles, arranged them in a circle, and held a seance

sprayed 12 cologne testers on a test strip and ate it for $5

toys r us

had a nerf battle with craig in the middle of the store

took a doll out of the packaging and drew pentagrams and penises all over the face

arranged two barbies to look like they’re fucking

programmed every voice recording toy to say “eating ass is good for your mental health”

threw a bopit at craig and broke his nose

food court

food fight

#south park #kenny mccormick