he was there during siege of the North. he infiltrated the spirit oasis. he has an uncle who studies spirits and the spirit world. he watched the sky go dark then the moon suddenly reappear like everyone else in the entire world did. and most importantly he watched zhao get eaten by a giant godzilla fish spirit.
Also, Iroh was there? He literally watched Sokka make out with the moon spirit. And you want to tell me that a romantic sap like him would not have immediately told Zuko about this romantic tragedy? Please, Zuko has known about this for ages, he just knows that this is not an acceptable situation in which to say “yeah, I know.”
Gentrification creates a stifling homogeneity in urban areas that makes it less suited for the everyday lives of the lower class and more suited towards the leisure and tourism of those with expendable income.
An old, decrepit laundromat gets replaced by an upscale bakery? And people are mad? It’s not that the poor hate organic vegan cupcakes, it’s that most of us don’t have a way to do laundry in our own home.
Run-down corner stores replaced by hand-made designer clothing boutiques? We don’t hate your eco-fabric shawl, but I can’t eat that for dinner after work like I could have a can of beans I grabbed from that corner store when I don’t have time to take the bus to the real grocery store after work.
What gentrification brings in and of itself is not typically bad, it’s that gentrification brings institutions of leisure and pleasure and makes it so that the poor have to go farther out of their way for basic necessities. It turns low-income living spaces into local tourist attractions. It can even create food deserts by putting restaurants, grocery stores, etc. in that the majority of the lower class cannot afford.
Imagine if someone totally renovated your house and turned it into a mini theme park - they took away your sleeping space, where you prepare food, where you clean yourself and get ready for your day, and replaced it with things that will please people who are visiting, who have their own homes they can go back to, who are here not for their entire life but just as a distraction from their otherwise mundane existence. It’s not that you hate theme parks, it’s not like you’ve never been to a theme park and vow to never visit one again. It’s just that you need to live! To survive! And the leisure of those who have more than you should not invalidate your existence.
I am glad this has made the rounds. Some people feel a dense misunderstanding or misinterpretation concerning gentrification, and I think it helps to hear a description/explanation of what gentrification is from those who are both affected by it and educated by the culture from which it hails. I and many others enjoy some of the delights of gentrification while simultaneously having their livelihoods threatened by it.
Why is there a diarrhea parasite outbreak in America?
Because Donald Trump and his Republican allies cut funding to disease prevention and control.
Why is measles back in America?
Because Donald Trump and his Republican allies, including RFK Jr, cut vaccine and measles prevention funding and programs.
Why is the New World Screwworm infecting cattle in Texas, when it had previously been eliminated from the area?
Because Donald Trump and his Republican allies, including Elon Musk, cut USAID funding, which in part worked to monitor and prevent screwworm outbreaks.
Why was there a flu outbreak in our armed forces?
Because Donald Trump and his Republican allies, including Pete Hegseth, cut vaccination requirements for our armed forces, putting all of them at risk alongside our military readiness.
What contributed to the Covid outbreak?
Donald Trump and his Republican allies cut funding to a pandemic prevention program in his first term because Barack Obama had created it.
“America first” sends its regards. Trump voters, please learn your lesson. And if you don’t, it’ll be taught to you again with yet another diarrhea outbreak.
Please give credit to Matthew Cortland, the disabled lawyer and activist whose work is reflected in that last screenshot. They work hard on documenting what Trump and his cronies have been doing & they deserve credit.
On Saturday I said to my partner, as I have said for months, "A ten thousand dollar a year raise would solve so many of my problems."
As of this morning I was reluctantly looking for jobs because I love my job and don't want to leave it, but see: $10k raise problem solver.
As of noon today this was no longer an issue, because my boss called me with the news that I was getting a $10K merit raise.
I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. This is roughly $200 extra per paycheck. Enough to pay off debt faster, rebuild my savings, and spend a weekend a month in Milwaukee getting obscenely laid. The sex I'm going to have on $200 extra per paycheck. You can't even.
May all of you get the $10K raise your soul has yearned for. And whatever level of sex you can be satisfied with for $200.
Thinking about the fact that Ilya and Shane probably kissed SO much that first day at the cottage like Shane’s jaw was achy and their mouths were puffy and swollen and deep pink at the end of the day
Like they definitely fucked like three times by like early afternoon, and Shane’s a bit achy, they’d been eager and rough with each other, mainly in their desperation for each other. It had been months for both of them, waiting for each other- and it’s the first time they have ever had time on their hands, time and no fucking interruptions, just endless soft surfaces and hard surfaces to press each other into, no prying eyes.
But they also kinda can’t stop kissing. Shane almost feels overwhelmed by it, it’s like theirs magnets on their tongues, drawn to each other like gravity. After lunch they end up making out at the sink for an unknown stretch of time, at least till the water in the sink that the dishes had been soaking in, cooled. But it was soft pecks too, hot firey kisses when Ilya would interrupt him by grabbing his face and pulling him in, licking into his mouth. So not only does Shane’s ass and hips ache a bit, but so does his mouth.
It’s the evening, the sun dipping down past the line of the lake and Shane is sprawled on his back on the soft rug of the living room. Ilya is a shirtless warm wide weight over him, just in a pair of Shane’s sweatpants (yours are better Hollander I want these) between Shane’s legs, pressing into and over him. He smells like Shane’s body wash, and sun, tastes like sour patch kids (Shane had bought them just for Ilya, when he’d done his grocery shop for the summer. It was just a few things, inconspicuous packets- but ones that usually had no place in Shane Hollanders pantry).
Shane’s in his metros crew neck and a pair of soft shorts, socks on.
Ilya has an elbow on either side of Shane’s head, one hand fisted in the top of Shane’s hair, fingers scratching gentle circular motions against his scalp in a dizzying way that had goose bumps shivering up and down the back of his neck. His other hand cheeks drifting to Shane’s chin and cheek, the back of his knuckles rubbing, fingers grabbing.
They’re kissing, again, slow hot drags of their mouths that are making Shane’s stomach flip and squeeze in a low needy flutter. His legs are spread to either side, knees to Ilya’s hips. One calf is pressed to Ilya’s thigh, the other out further, his toes rubbing their happy rhythm against Ilya’s calf. A small fidget he did when he was content, to comfort, usually as he drifted to sleep- but apparently when Ilya Rozanov kissed him incoherent too.
Shanes hands have been roaming, from holding Ilya’s face between his palms, to through his curls, over the back of his neck. His nails gentle up and down the bare skin of Ilya’s back, occasionally finding stray droplet left over from the shower. His body is holding the heat from it, so fucking warm and solid between Shane’s legs. Shane can’t stop thinking about the fact Ilya’s going to sleep in bed with him tonight. They have all night.
The thought makes Shane shiver and Ilya presses down into Shane in response, hand slides from his hair and down, arm slides between Shane and the floor, hand clasped to Shane’s hip, strong forearm spanning his back and he pulls Shane up into him. Shane tightens his leg around Ilya’s body, hands rub over Ilya’s broad shoulders in a silent reply. Ilya pulls back for a breath, nuzzles his mouth against Shane’s skin as he knocks their noses together.
“Okie?” He asks in a soft low cadence, and his arms squeezes around Shane, hand wiggling to the under the fabric of his sweatshirt, against skin.
Shane nods and with a small motion of his head ilya is connecting their lips again, a tiny almost sweet peck before he’s licking into Shane’s mouth in a way that makes the back of his neck heat. Ilya sinks into him and kisses him like he’s starving, like this itself is sex, like he’s inside Shane. It feels like it, Shane can feel the ghost of that connection with how they are pressed tight, close.
Their sound of their lips is slick and loud, and Shane can hear the rush of his own heartbeat in his ears, the rustle of their clothes together. He’s not grinding on Ilya, and Ilya isnt pushing down into him, but there are these tiny presses of their hips, half hard- but not seeking anything further, not chasing, just content in the connection of their bodies in every place they can manage.
Ilya’s tongue draws back and Shane catches Ilya’s top lip with teeth and tongue, Ilya’s mouth tastes like his, their shared spit. Shane’s fingers find the shape of Ilya’s earlobe, thumb starts to rub over it softly, and it makes Ilya whine, like Shane knows it does, because he knows, knows very well how Ilya Rozanov kisses, how he likes to be kissed back. Ilya’s hand squeezes Shane’s hip, pulls him in tighter, drags his tongue over Shane’s, licks up over the roof of his mouth and Shane shivers. His jaw aches with the stretch of the kiss as Ilya licks into his mouth hungry.
Then the oven beeps, loud and jarring and Shane’s first thought is what the fuck? But then- oh- dinner. They had put the potatoes and vegetables to roast in the oven an hour ago and chicken legs half an hour ago. Shane had been going to find deck of cards he knew was in the living room because he had told Ilya he would to teach him how to play Cribbage. Ilya had already asked if they could play strip cribbage. Shane didn’t think it would be possible but he was sure Ilya would find a way.
He’d been leant over the coffee table, digging in a draw for the cards when Ilya had found him, a slap to his bent over ass, before his hands pulled Shane back into him. Shane had told him to fuck off and Ilya had said no and then Shane had jabbed at his side, Ilya had flicked Shane’s ear and then they were on the carpet slapping hands away. Then, as with the pace of the day it seemed, they were kissing again.
Shane pulls back with a gasp from the kiss. “Dinner. Ilya- we need to” Ilya’s mouth was already back on his own. Shane’s hands slid to Ilya hair, pulled, turned his head away from Ilya’s mouth. The alarm was still going off.
“It’ll burn” Shane sighs, shivers when Ilya’s mouth finds his jaw, kisses and licks at the warm skin.
“In a minute” Ilya rumbles back and drags his teeth over the light already fading hickey he left there this morning.
Shane sighs, heat rushes at the feeling and he swallows, wriggles under Ilya’s frame.
“You’ll be so” Shane’s voice is breathy and he clears his throat. “So annoying if I don’t feed you” and then Shane feels Ilya laugh against his throat.
“You have fed me plenty” Ilya grumbles back, hand sliding down to take a handful of Shane’s ass, voice heavy with innuendo.
“Shut up” Shane bitches and pinches Ilya’s side in the way he doesn’t like, and says “dinner Ilya dinner” and Ilya whines and pulls back. Shane bits back a whine at the loss of Ilya’s warmth, despite knowing Ilya getting up is how they will achieve making sure dinner isn’t burnt.
Shane’s hands, now with no Ilya to hold, lay by his sides and he looks up at Ilya up on his knees between Shane’s legs, looking down at him. His necklace swings and the light catches the glint of gold. He’s all tanned skin, corded muscle and moles in the low light. There’s a bruise from Shane’s mouth in his ribs. Shane licks his lips and he wants Ilya to fuck him again. The oven alarm beeps ever strong in the distance. Shane lets out a short breath through his nose.
“Come on then, up, mr dinner Ilya dinner, I thought this was urgent and you are just laying on floor” Ilya teases and Shane kicks his heel into Ilya’s ass.
“I will help with my big muscles don’t worry” Ilya smirks and then he’s pulling Shane up with the arm under his back, till Shane is sat over Ilya’s hips in his kneeling position.
Suddenly they are close again, breath mingling between the mouths. Ilya’s mouth is bitten dark, his thicker upper lip swollen. His mouth shines in the low light of the cottage with his and Shane’s spit. It makes Shane’s cock pulse. Something swells in his chest. Shane squirms in Ilya’s lap and Ilya’s arm tightens around him, a firm grip that anchors him closer. Shane’s eyes dart up Ilya’s and he can see Ilya’s eyes staring at his mouth, dark and lidded. Ilya’s hand is on his face then and his thumb is making circles over Shane’s mouth. It feels like an old bruise, a muscle that aches after training. His lips throb.
“Mm” Ilya’s hum is low and maybe involuntary and Shane feels it vibrate through his own, and oh- when did they get that close again.
Then Ilya is kissing him again, soft pecks all over Shane’s mouth, closed mouth kisses that make Shane’s toes start working their wriggle again.
Ilya’s licking into his mouth and Shane’s hands are catching Ilyas face, and he’s been kissing Ilya for a decade, but it’s that same stupid heavy rush it had been when he was a teenager and all he could think was oh, that’s what kissing is because any kiss before it had seemed like it must be something else entirely, it didn’t even live in the same universe.
Shane made a soft sound, head heavy with the thought of their first kiss, the thought of Ilya knowing how to kiss him so well, of knowing just what Shane likes, being just what Shane likes. The taste of Ilya’s mouth being a comfort, a home. Shane pushes his hips down, pulls at the back of Ilya’s neck, sucks Ilya’s tongue into his mouth and- and then Ilya is pulling his mouth away with a slick sound and Shane whimpers, frowns.
“Dinner Shane, dinner” Ilya whispers and Shane puts his have over Ilya’s face, before he clambers up.
Ilya’s footsteps are quick behind him.
The get the food out the oven, it goes half cold, Shane’s ass pressed against the oven, Ilya pressing into him, hands cupping his jaw open.
Mr. Collins would be such a fan of ai. He would love it. He would have it write scripts for him to use for complimenting people. He'd ask it what to do in social situations and then when someone would tell him "I think that's a bad idea" he'd be like "my dear madam it's so good of you to be concerned but I think the highly esteemed Grok knows a little more about this than a lady like yourself" and then he'd go humiliate himself publicly.
fat baby shane absolutely CRUSHING a carton of blueberries…his appetite for them is insatiable. yuna and david have to check his pockets regularly because he likes to put them in there to save for later, half of his shirts are stained, he has blueberry on his mouth all the time. eventually they plant bushes in the backyard so they can just grow them instead of having to constantly buy but by the time they start producing he doesn’t like them anymore😭
shane has the energy of a chosen one middle grade novel child protagonist about him. like if one of those grew up and we were still following him around a non magical life
gummygunk
turnnoffyourmind
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theartofmadeline
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