Whatever comes to me... but mostly stuff from other blogs
@themusingofagothicsoul
I am a 26 year old fandom lover! To many fandoms to count. Mostly just a reposter, enter at your own risk. A place where I can look at what interests me
I just wrote 8 pages when I haven't written in months and was beginning to think I'd never be able to again. Idk what it is, but I am sharing and manifesting this energy for every writer who sees this. May you write 8 quality pages effortlessly and find joy writing once more
conversations of amatonormativity and consent overlap a lot and should be discussed side by side more frequently. because when you live in a society that teaches you that you’re supposed to want sex and romance, that you may want to say no in the moment but you shouldn’t say no forever, any statements about consent get muddied. you cannot at once preach that consent is vital and “you can always say no” and also insist that people should give sex and romance a try, even when they express disinterest, telling them “eventually you’ll find the right person.”
In addition to this: the pressure to have sex by a certain age is a form of coercion.
If you do not actually want to have sex, but you feel pressured into it because of societal expectations, that's coercion.
Society pushes the narrative that obviously everyone loses their virginity in their teens. It's a "rite of passage".
But there are plenty of reasons why someone might not fit that narrative.
When you enter into your 20s, and if you still have your virginity intact, the pressure increases exponentially. "Just get it over with" and "it's just sex, stop being a prude about it" and "you're such a late bloomer, you were supposed to do that ages ago."
These messages whittle away at consent. Your priority becomes conforming to social pressure, and not your personal desires.
And if you enter your 30s or above as a virgin, there is so much stigma around this that many people don't talk about it at all.
If you are pressured into having sex, that is coercion. Not consent.
Summary: What starts as an innocent grab for Tyler Owens’ Stetson during a storm chase spirals into something you never expected. When Boone teases that the livestream chat loves you in Tyler’s hat, you brush it off. Until later that night when Tyler makes it clear that his hat isn’t just an accessory when you’re the one wearing it. One motel room, one cowboy hat rule, and one very patient Tyler later, and you realize you might not just want him for the night, but for what comes after.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. NSFW/Explicit Sexual Content (Unprotected PIV SEx, Pull out method described), Strong language, Dirty talk, Praise kink maybe if you squint, Slightly inexperienced reader (not a virgin though).
Word Count: 4,347
Prompt + Pairing: “You’re wearing way too many clothes for what’s on my mind.” + Tyler Owens
The storm was building on the horizon, a wall of dark clouds stretching across the flat Nebraska sky. The wind funneled in little bursts through your rolled down window, carrying the smell of dirt and rain, and making the loose pages on the dashboard flutter. Tyler’s hand rested loosely on the wheel, his eyes flicking between the road and the storm system ahead.
Boone was perched behind you in the backseat, narrating for the livestream. Every so often the chat pinged with something that made Boone snort under his breath.
You shifted in the seat, trying to peer up at the sky and get a better look at the sky. But the sun was slanting through the windshield in front of the wall cloud was just enough to blind you. You flipped the visor down, squinted, and realized it didn’t help. You were too short. You muttered a soft curse, leaning forward, and shading your face with your hand.
Boone chuckled as he looking at you. “Strugglin’ there short stack?”
“Shut up,” you shot back.
Without even thinking about it, your hand reached for the cream Stetson on the dash. Tyler’s Stetson. You settled it on your head, and tilted it to block the glare.
Tyler’s eyes flicked off the road for just a second as he cleared his throat. He didn’t say anything about it, but something in his demeanor seemed to shift. You frowned, tugging the brim lower.
“Sory–” you started, as you reached up to lift the hat from your head. “I didn’t mean–”
“Keep it, darlin’.” Tyler’s voice cut you off.
He didn’t look at you when he said it, his eyes glued to the road, knuckle tightening briefly on the wheel before relaxing again.
Boone, never the one to let something go, swung the camera toward you, catching your profile in Tyler’s hat for viewers. A grin spread across his face.
“Oh, chat is lovin’ that.”
“What does that mean?” You asked as you turned to look at him.
“Just sayin’. Chat loves you two,” Boone said. You opened the stream up on your phone and began to scroll trying to figure out what he was talking about.
But with fifteen or sixteen thousand people the comments were going by so fast it was impossible to keep up. Emojis, cap locked messages, a flood of cowboy hats and hearts scrolled by too quickly to read.
You caught a glimpse of your own reflection on the screen, Tyler’s hat tipped low on your forehead before another wave of text buried it.
“What–” you tried again, but the feed was moving too fast.
You gave up with a huff before tucking the phone away. You glanced back over at Tyler, half expecting him to join in the conversation, but he didn’t. He just cleared his throat, eyes fixed on the road like the conversation wasn’t happening at all.
Which only made you more confused.
Tyler reached forward, grabbing the radio he used to communicate with the rest of the team following behind.
“Dex, Dani, what’s it lookin’ like from your side? Cell still holdin’ east?”
Static crackled, and Dani’s voice came back quickly in reply. Boone leaned forward, adjusting his camera as the team got ready for the exciting part of the chase.
Things moved on like nothing had happened. You gave Tyler a final glance, and sat back in your seat, tugging the brim of Tyler’s hat lower over your face, feeling a little more unsettled than before.
* * * *
By the time the chase had wrapped for the day, exhaustion was heavy in your bones. The motel lost was mostly empty when you rolled in. The rest of the team made their way into the rooms, ready to call it a night. You watched as Lily and Boone slipped into the first room while Dexter and Dani slipped into the one next to theirs.
You busied yourself, pulling your bag from the floorboard in the backseat, double checking your phone charger was stuffed inside. For a second you debated just heading straight to your room, and slipping away before anything could get more awkward. The ride back had been more silent than usual. Boone’s words still echoed in your head. Chat is lovin’ that. Fifteen thousand people spamming emojis and reactions while Tyler said nothing at all.
You slung your bag over your shoulder, chewing your lip. Maybe you didn’t need to bring it up at all. Maybe it was better to pretend you hadn’t noticed the way Tyler had glanced at you when you put his hat on. Or how he’d said Keep it, darlin’.
You turned to walk towards the motel stairs that led up to your room on the second floor. Tyler was leaned against the brush guard on the front of his truck, one boot crossed over the other. As you stepped closer, you lifted the Stetson off your head.
And that’s when the words came out before you could stop them. “Can I ask you something?”
Tyler didn’t move, just raised his head enough to meet your eyes. “Shoot.”
You shifted the bag higher on your shoulder, hat still dangling between you. “What was Boone talking about earlier? The whole chat loving me in your hat thing?”
For the first time all night, his mouth curved into a grin. Not his easy, crowd pleasing grin, but something smaller. He let out a laugh, low and disbelieving, before shaking his head.
“What?” You pressed, heat beginning to prickle under your skin.
“Nothing,” he said. “Just Boone runnin’ his mouth.”
“That wasn’t nothing,” you shot back. “I even tried to check the chat myself but the comments were flying so fast I couldn’t follow. Boone looked at me like I should get it. And you–” You faltered, nerves sparking again. “You didn’t say anything.”
Tyler’s smile widened, that same knowing curve that made your stomach twist. He still didn’t take the hat from your hand.
Frustration pushed past your nerves. “Come on. You can’t just laugh at me and then leave me hanging. Just…tell me what’s on your mind.”
His eyes dragged over you slowly, before coming back to your face. For a second he looked almost incredulous. “You can’t be that innocent.”
Your pulse began to race. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tyler chuckled, tilting his head like he was weighing just how much truth you could handle. His gaze swept over you. He still hadn’t taken the hat from your hand, just kept looking at you like he was waiting to see what you’d do next.
“You really want to know what’s on my mind?” he asked finally, his voice slow, almost testing.
You swallowed, nodding once.
His grin spread, sharp enough to make your stomach flip. “You’re wearin’ way too many clothes for what’s on my mind.”
Your cheeks flushed into a blush instantly. Your brain raced trying to put the pieces together. But no matter how you turned it, you couldn’t quite get it to click in your mind.
“I…I don’t get it.”
He let out a laugh, rough and low, like he couldn’t believe you’d actually said that. He just shook his head.
“Darlin’,” he drawled, “you don’t just take a cowboy’s hat. Not unless you’re ready for what comes with it.”
You blinked, clutching the brim a little tighter. “What comes with it?”
“You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” He said as he leaned in, his voice dropping just a bit.
For a second, all you could do was stare. The words clicked belatedly, the meaning crashing into you with enough force that your knees felt weak.
Your eyes went wide.
Tyler smirked, watching every second of your reaction, clearly enjoying the way you froze, how your lips parted around a sound you didn’t quite manage to make. His tongue flicked over his bottom lip, and his drawl came even softer.
“Now you get it.”
The silence that followed was thick, heavy, charged. You still stood there with his hat in your hand, your whole body flushed, the air between you humming like electricity before a strike. And Tyler? He just leaned back against the truck again, patient as ever, like he could wait all night for your next move.
His eyes flicked down to the hat in your hands. He didn’t say anything at first, just let the silence sit heavy between you. Then he stepped closer, boots crunching against the gravel until there was only a sliver of space left.
His voice dropped low, softer than you’d heard all night. “I ain’t gonna push you, darlin’. If you wanna hand that hat back, I’ll take it, and we’ll forget this whole thing ever happened.”
Your grip tightened on the brim, pulse jumping in your throat. He let that sink in, then tipped his chin down so his eyes caught yours.
“But if you keep it…” His mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile or a smirk. “...you’re not just wearin’ it to wear it. You’re wearin’ it cause you’re mine.”
Mine. The word hung there. Raw. You froze for a second. Trying to process it. His tone wasn’t cocky. It was steady and sure. Like he’d made up his mind long before now.
Tyler stepped in that last inch, one hand brushing your hip, feather-light. “This ain’t some quick roll in the sheets, sweetheart. Not for me. If you’re gonna keep that hat, it means you want me.” His gaze dropped briefly to your lips, then back up.
Your throat tightened. “Tyler…”
He gave a little shrug, though his eyes stayed locked on you. “Or, you can hand it back, and we’ll call it a night. No hard feelings.
You looked down at the hat, at the scuffed brim, at the weight of it in your hands. For a heartbeat, you thought about slipping past him, ducking into your room, pretending none of this ever happened.
But when you looked back up, Tyler’s eyes were waiting for you, steady and sure, like he’d hold that line until you decided.
Slowly and deliberately, you slid the hat back onto your head.
Tyler’s grin spread across his face. He then leaned in, close enough now that you could feel the heat of his breath. His hand came up to cup your jaw.
The first brush of his lips against yours was soft. Tender. Almost like he was testing the waters. But then you sighed against him, and he deepened the kiss. His lips pressed harder against yours, stealing your breath as he pushed you back against the side of the truck.
The hot metal bit at your spine, but all you felt was him. Broad shoulders boxing you in, the faint scrape of his stubble on your cheek as his mouth moved against yours.
The strap of your bag slid off your shoulder, and your hands curled into his shirt. You clutched onto him like you needed him closer. Tyler groaned low, the sound vibrating between you. He kissed you harder, pinning you in place with the weight of his body.
When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless.
“C’mon,” he said, his voice thick.
He reached down and grabbed your bag then he tugged gently at your hand, guiding you away from the truck. You stumbled after him, laughter bubbling out of you when your shoulder bumped hi. He caught your smile with another kiss, like he just couldn’t help himself.
You made it a few more steps before he kissed you again, and this time you laughed against his mouth.
“You’re terrible.”
“Mm,” he drawled, his lips brushing against yours once again. “You love it.”
His hand settled firm at your hip, steadying you as the two of you moved towards the stairs. By the time you reached the stairs, your pulse was racing so hard you barely noticed the climb. All you knew was Tyler’s hand at your waist, his mouth on yours between steps. You were like two kids in high school sneaking out to see each other.
By the time you reached the door, your head was spinning, laughter and kisses tumbling over each other in a blur. Tyler never let go of you, one arm firm around your waist as he dug into his pocket with the other.
The key slid into the lock with a faint scrape, his hand steady even as his mouth brushed your temple, his breath hot against your skin. The door swung open, hinges groaning, and he nudged you inside with a gentle push at your hip.
The room was dim, smelling faintly of old carpet and rain, but you barely noticed. The door clicked behind you, and then Tyler had you pinned against it, his chest pressing yours.
His lips grazed your ear, his drawl molten and teasing. “Knew you’d look good pressed up against somethin’, darlin’. Didn’t think it’d be this door, but I’ll take it.”
You shivered, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as he kissed down your jaw. The door rattled faintly with the weight of him crowding you, his hand slipping from your hip to splay wide at the small of your back, holding you close.
You gasped, the sound muffled when he found your mouth again, kissing you hard, messy, like he’d been starving for it all night.
“Tyler–”
“Mm?” He kissed the corner of your jaw, down the line of your throat.
“This is…I’m not–” you faltered, the words tangling. “It’s been awhile.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes a few shades darker than normal, but still steady. “You don’t gotta be nervous with me. Gonna take real good care of you.”
You let out a small sigh of relief. But the nerves didn’t ease. You weren’t a virgin, but you weren’t very experienced either. Not like the women on the stream’s chat that always flirted with Tyler. Or the women at bars who seemed to find it easy to walk up and start talking to him. A woman like that would have climbed him in a second if he asked.
But Tyler wasn’t rushing.
He kissed you again, slower, and when he finally tugged at the hem of your shirt, it was careful, giving you all the room in the world to stop him.
You hesitated, blush rising hot in your cheeks as your arms instinctively moved from his shirt to try and cover yourself. “You don’t have to…take all my clothes off.”
That earned a low laugh from Tyler. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “Yeah I do. Cause I want to see you. Too damn pretty to hide from me.”
The conviction in his voice melted the protest on your tongue. So you let him ease the shirt up and over your head, dropping it onto the floor. Goosebumps prickled across your skin in the motel’s cool air.
Instinctively, your hands came up to cover yourself, but Tyler caught your wrists in one of his hands, pressing them gently back against the door.
“Nope,” he murmured, his grin small but deadly. “Not hidin’. Not from me.”
Then his mouth trailed over your collarbone, kissing the newly exposed skin. When you tried to twitch or pull back, his voice was there to comfort you. “Easy…I’ve got you.”
By the time he unclasped your bra, your nerves had lessened but they were still there.
He slid the straps down your arms, letting the fabric fall, and then leaned back just far enough to take you in. His eyes swept over you once, slow, deliberate, before locking on yours again.
“Even better than I pictured.” He muttered, voice hoarse.
Your face flamed. “You pictured?”
He huffed a laugh, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for months?”
Your heart skipped, pounding for an entirely new reason. He kissed you again before you could answer, easing you back toward the bed.
You reached for his green button down shirt, pulling the hem out from where it had been tucked into his jeans.
His grin returned again. “You wanna see me?”
You swatted at his chest playfully, a little embarrassed. “I didn’t–”
He unbuttoned the shirt and then shrugged it off, his chest broad and slightly gleaming with sweat. Your eyes widened and you reached out, your fingers tracing lines across his chest, down his stomach, and he sucked in a breath as he tipped his head back.
“You touching me like that? Gonna undo me, darlin’.”
Feeling emboldened by his words, you undid the buckle on his belt and worked at the button on his jeans. He helped you tug them down, and then kicked them off, leaving only the thing cotton of his boxer briefs separating him from you.
His weight pressed you into the mattress, but he was slow and took his time. He kissed down your body, pausing to almost worship every inch he revealed as he slid the rest of your clothes away. By the time you were bare beneath him, your nerves had softened weren’t gone completely. You blushed, and tried to cover yourself, reaching for the scratch hotel blanket.
But Tyler caught your hands again, holding them to the sheets
“Don’t hide,” he said softly, his voice firm but tender. “You lettin’ me have you like this? That’s a privilege, sweetheart. And I’m not takin’ it for granted. Want you so bad.”
Your chest tightened at the sincerity in his tone. No one had ever said being with you was a privilege.
Tyler kissed you again, like he wanted to make sure you knew he meant every word.
“I want you too,” you whispered as you tugged at the waistband of his underwear.
“Careful, darlin’,” he rasped. “You keep sayin’ things like that, I might never let you go.”
He leaned down again, pressing his lips to yours again. Then his lips moved to your neck, your chest, your stomach. His hands moved over your skin, touching as much of you as he could. Your hand slid up his chest and then to the back of his hair. You pulled him back down to you, kissing him hard. And for a long, dizzying minute it was just lips and tongues and teeth and hands, your body pressed flush against his.
Then Tyler shifted, rolling away. He moved to lean back against the headboard, his broad shoulds propped against the pillows. His chest was gleaming with sweat under the dim lamplight.
“C’mere,” he murmured, crooking a finger.
Your heart thundered as you crawled into his lap, straddling him. The heat of his body bled through the thin cotton of his boxers, the thick bulge pressing insistently against you. Your breath hitched, nerves flaring, but before you could retreat, his hand caught yours.
You sucked in a breath when he pressed your hand over him. The sheer size of him even through the fabric, made your pulse race. Tyler’s head tipped back, his jaw flexing as he exhaled hard, a groan slipping from him when your fingers traced the shape of him through the cotton.
“That’s it,” he groaned. “Don’t stop.
Your hand kept moving, and his hips started lifting subtly to try and chase your touch. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs, and tugged the fabric down. The fabric slid away, and he sprang free into your palm.
His hands slid down to your waist, big and warm, anchoring you in his lap.
“You ready for me?” He asked, his voice low, and eyes steady on yours.
You nodded, though your hands trembled where they rested against his chest. “I think so.”
His thumb traced over your hipbone. “Need a little more sure of an answer, darlin’. If you want to stop we can.”
You shook your head, swallowing hard. “No I want to. I’m just…nervous.”
“No need to be nervous,” he said as a grin spread across his face again, a little wicked but softened by the warmth in his eyes. “Gonna take real good care of you, sweetheart.”
Tyler’s hands guided you, shifting you higher until he could line himself up beneath you. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance.
Your fingers clutched at his shoulders. “Tyler–”
“Shh.” His hands steadied at your hips. “Nice and slow now. You’re okay. I got you.”
Then Tyler reached to the left of him, snagging his Stetson from where it had fallen on the bed. He set it gently on your head, the brim tilting forward. His lips curved into a grin as his eyes took in the sight of you straddling him in nothing but his hat.
You took a deep breath then lowered yourself over him, the stretch was sharp, almost too much. Your breath hitched, and you froze halfway.
Tyler’s grip on you tightened, holding you still. His forehead pressed to your collarbone. “That’s it. Just breath. Takin’ me so good, sweetheart.”
You exhaled shakily, and his thumb stroked circles against your waist, grounding you. Bit by bit, you eased lower until he was buried deep inside you. The fullness made your whole body tremble.
“Oh my god,” you whispered, eyes wide.
“Darlin…you keep squeezin’ me like that and I might not last.” Tyler groaned, his jaw tight. He kissed you again, rougher this time, then pulled back just enough to look at you. “Look at you. Fuckin’ gorgeous sittin’ on me like that.”
The discomfort gave way to something else, and you shifted your hips, rocking forward. Pleasure sparked through you, sharp and dizzying.
Tyler’s breath hissed between his teeth, his hands gripping tighter. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”
Encouraged, you tried again, a little more confident this time. The friction made your head spin, a sound slipping from your throat that you couldn’t hold back.
“Fuck.” Tyler’s answering groan was raged. “That’s it, sweetheart. Look at you.”
Your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t stop. The shy hesitation that had gripped you started to melt under the steady rhythm, replaced by something bolder. You rocked your hips with more purpose, chasing that flood of sensation.
Tyler’s head tipped back, his laugh breaking on a moan. His hand tangled in your hair, tugging you down for another kiss, sloppy and desperate. meet yours. The sharp thrust stole your breath, pleasure bursting through you.
“Tyler–”
“I got you,” he rasped, moving with you now, guiding your hips with firm hands. “Take what you need, darlin’. I’ll give you all of it.”
Every roll of your hips sent sparks racing up your spine, every snap of his met with another ragged moan from him. He praised you through it, voice breaking, filthy and tender all at once:
“Fuck, that’s perfect.”
“You feel so good.”
You rode him harder, faster, surprising even yourself. The rhythm built and built, your nerves forgotten in the flood of sensation, your body hungry for more.
The coil of pleasure wound tighter, sharper. Your nails dug into his shoulders as your cries grew louder, the heat in your belly threatening to break.
“Tyler–I–”
“I got you, sweetheart,” he rasped, though his jaw was tight, his breathing ragged.
Your climax tore through you, body clenching around him, and Tyler groaned. He bucked once, twice, and then hissed through his teeth and pulled you up, his hands lifting you just enough to slip free.
You whimpered at the sudden emptiness as his fist wrapped tight around himself, stroking hard and fast. His head tipped back against the headboard, a guttural sound ripping from his chest as his release spilled hot across his stomach and hand.”
“Fuck–” his voice cracked on the word. He let his hand fall to his thigh, chest heaving, and eyes dragging back to you.
You were still straddling his lap, flushed and breathless, your thighs trembling around him. Tyler’s lips curved, tired but wicked, as he reached up with his clean hand to tilt the Stetson still on your head.
“Look at you,” he murmured, voice raw with awe and satisfaction. “Prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”
The room was hushed except for your uneven breaths and the hum of the air conditioner rattling in the corner. You shifted gingerly in Tyler’s lap, thighs trembling, and he caught you before you could slide away.
“Easy,” he murmured, sliding an arm around your back. His voice had softened again, low and steady, that teasing edge gone for the moment.
You sagged against him, your cheek pressed to his chest. His heartbeat thudded under your ear, strong and grounding. He reached behind himself with his free hand, tugged a crumpled towel off the dresser, and wiped himself clean with a practiced ease before dropping it aside.
When he leaned back into the pillows, he tugged you with him, tucking you against his side under the scratchy motel blanket. One of his hands stroked lazy circles over your bare shoulder, soothing, anchoring.
“You okay?” he asked after a long beat, his voice quieter now, almost uncertain.
You nodded, though your throat felt thick. “Yeah.”
A small smile tugged at his mouth. “Good. ’Cause I don’t want you thinkin’ this was just somethin’ that happened.”
Your heart stumbled. “What do you mean?”
He tipped the brim of his Stetson, still perched a little crooked on your head, with one finger. “I mean, you put this on, darlin’, and I wasn’t kiddin’, that makes you mine. And if I get a say in it, tonight’s not the end of this.”
You blinked at him, wide-eyed. “Tyler…”
He swallowed, his thumb brushing over your cheek now. His grin was there, but it was smaller, more fragile at the edges.
“I’m askin’ if you want to stay. With me. Doesn’t have to be forever. Just…don’t walk out that door in the mornin’ like this meant nothin’.”
You smiled, small and certain, and settled closer against him. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
Tyler let out a breath and then kissed your temple. “Good. Then you’re stayin’ with me tonight.”
It’s actually a pretty good highlight of how generally people don’t notice they’re being racist, since the diversity in the various characters depicted leads me to believe they thought they were including everyone.
alright, i'll be the one to say it. ao3 and tumblr becoming "mainstream" did so much damage to the community and the writers. i have seen loads of videos and posts about:
1. people hating on writers and fics. writing is something we do for free and for fun. if you stumble upon a fanfic that isn't necessarily your cup of tea or you just don't like, scroll. dont read it. literally leave their page. you don't know if this could be the author's first work that they're so excited about, you dont know if the language they're writing in isn't their first language, you dont know that the writer could be a literal teen and loads of other reasons. fanfictions don't HAVE to be perfect. you write what you want to write because we do it for fun and enjoyment and we want to share that to the world. seriously, what is the wrong with that?..
2. x reader consumers getting WAY too entitled. the number of tiktoks i've seen that say "i run a strict program when it comes to reading fanfics." girl you aint running shit. this is FAN FICTION you're reading. F A N F I C T I O N. there is no denying that most fanfiction writes are beyond talented but just because you read one fanfic that exceeds your expectations doesn't give you the right to talk down on others that don't. people have their own personal writing style, their way of doing things and you talking shit on that isn't right.
at the end of the day, we are all humans, reading and writing is what we do and what we're meant to do. and for you to talk shit about a person WRITING is so insane. we are humans. not some robots that you can tell what to do so you can consume it.
i've seen so so many authors take down their fanfics and losing all motivation to write because of a hate comment. DONT LIKE DONT READ‼️
and to every author reading this, this community values your work and your contribution. we love u and, please, never let anyone's negative words have an effect on you.
It is absolutely absurd to me that FIFA allowed America to keep hosting the World Cup, when they are actively at war with a participating nation. There was literally no way that wasn't going to impact the competition for Iran. And now it turns out that yeah, it did. Because the fucking coaches weren't allowed in. To say nothing of how every non-white country is disadvantaged by all the Visa bullshit. I get that FIFA doesn't want to be political, but that means they have to step in when the hosts are being straight up political in a way that makes the whole competition corrupted
Meanwhile, side note:
I haven't had time to verify this yet but I heard America's tourism is down 14% from this time last year
Which, given that they're currently hosting the international world cup for the most popular sport on the planet, says entire sagas
In literally the exact same way people were boycotting Eurovision for including Israel, I hope people are boycotting the World Cup when they let the US in. I can't say I am because I don't really follow the world cup most years, so it's not really in my orbit, but I wish I'd heard a single person make this suggestion.
Frustrated Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers fled a Minnesota neighborhood after residents alerted each other by triggering car a
Basically, people are using their key fobs to set off their car alarms when they see ICE.
This is effective for several reasons:
Obviously, it alerts everyone that something is wrong. Given ICE has been terrorizing Minnesota, people are likely to immediately know it is ICE. This gives people time to flee or barricade themselves in their homes.
ICE loses the element of surprise.
If one person hears a car alarm go off, they can trigger their own alarm, alerting even more people, but also making it really annoying for ICE. Annoying sounds petty, but it can be effective. Have you ever been in a building when a super loud fire alarm went off? It's very hard to concentrate. You can't hear much else. You just want to leave. ICE experiences this when a whole street if car alarms go off. Which means they make mistakes.
the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be apart of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.
ICE Watch Programs Can Protect Immigrants in Your Neighborhood — Here’s What to Know
This op-ed explains how to start an ICE Watch neighborhood program in your community.
By Nikki Marín Baena
January 22, 2025
President Donald Trump’s plans to deport vastly more people living in our communities — whose children attend school alongside the children of US citizens, people who work alongside US citizen employees, who shop in the same stores — might leave us feeling as if there's little the average person can do to keep this from happening.
But many people do not want the immigrants they know to be deported. When Scripps News/Ipsos pollsters asked about the specific potential consequences of mass deportations after the November election, support for deportation plans fell off. Sometimes reliable information is all that’s needed to help immigrants avoid Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents, and anyone can help reduce the unnecessary panic that arrest announcements can generate.
Many Americans, including me, live in states like North Carolina, where sanctuary cities limit local law enforcement collaboration with immigration agents. Our state legislature in North Carolina recently passed a law requiring sheriffs to cooperate with ICE officers by honoring the agency’s request to hold anyone who ends up in jail for two days to give ICE time to decide whether to detain them. Since taking office on January 20, Trump has signed an executive order encouraging the expansion of a program known as 287(g), which allows local law enforcement to take on some ICE functions, and his Department of Homeland Security has said ICE agents can make make arrests without supervisor approval at “sensitive locations” that were previously off-limits, like schools, churches and public demonstrations. Under these conditions, rumors are likely to spread; some of the families our organization, Siembra NC, works with are already keeping their kids home from school.
In 2017, following a previous set of Trump executive orders, immigrant families in North Carolina were inundated by misinformation and rumors about ICE agents hidden in grocery store parking lots and supposed substations near after-school facilities, leading some people to avoid leaving home. There was no Spanish-language rumor verification hotline here in Greensboro, so our organization — which was just a handful of volunteers at the time — created one, giving more people the ability to talk to a live human and ask whether an undated Facebook post they'd seen shared by someone else was real. We also trained hundreds of volunteers with driver’s licenses to participate in an ICE Watch neighborhood watch program, giving immigrant parents a way to verify the rumors people forwarded them in WhatsApp.
Sometimes the hotline reports we received were not paranoid suspicions. After we began offering trainings in immigrant neighborhood parking lots and circulating Spanish-language videos with tips for how to spot ICE agents, our volunteers came into contact with federal agents. After a volunteer confirmed an officer’s identity, they would alert neighbors to the agent’s presence, and our dispatch team would send a text message to our contacts in the area. ICE agents almost never carry judicial warrants giving them the authority to enter private homes or businesses without permission, so they often wait to make an arrest when the person they’re looking for leaves their home or car. And in every case we worked on, when the agents realized they were being watched, they abandoned their stakeout.
When ICE did make arrests, the majority of people detained whose families we supported were the family’s primary wage earner; the detention created an economic crisis as much as an attack on the family’s psychological and emotional stability. Additionally, there was often little public assistance, beyond food banks, for which the remaining family members qualified. So we started an emergency cash-assistance fund to provide small grants, usually between $300 and $2,000, to help the family stave off eviction and afford the first payment to an immigration attorney. The fund also became a way for local immigrants who were not targeted by ICE to provide support.
Dozens of women stepped up to make and sell tamales and pupusas after church mass or in school parking lots at community fundraisers, and the funds were often sent to someone whose family had experienced detention that same week. Over and over, we heard the phrase “Hoy por ellos, mañana por nosotros,” meaning "Today for them, tomorrow for us.” Local elected officials often pledged contributions as well. But the financial need may be much greater this time. We have listed some tips for anyone who wants to start a hotline, neighborhood watch, or cash-assistance program in our organizing playbook.
When construction foremen, line cooks, and seamstresses were detained, hardship often followed for their employers — many of them in counties that voted overwhelmingly for Trump. When we visited local businesses after a detention as part of our effort to teach workers and employers how to defend their rights, often they did not know ICE agents had to present a judicial warrant in order to interview one of their employees in any area off-limits to the general public. These informal education programs are relatively simple to begin, starting with a few photocopies of fact sheets and an interest in building relationships with business owners who might be more reliant on immigrant labor.
Sometimes this kind of education turned into advocacy. For example, when a Republican sheriff proposed stationing ICE agents at the Alamance County Detention Center, by entering what’s known as a 287(g) agreement with the federal government. Fifty-nine business owners signed an open letter and testified at a county commission meeting to oppose the proposal; they were worried about the loss of revenue that had accompanied a previous surge in local immigration enforcement. (The Trump administration has since signaled its plans to expand use of those agreements.)
These concerns business owners have highlight a broader truth: Immigration enforcement doesn't happen in isolation. When ICE agents stake out our neighborhoods, it affects everyone — the families living in fear, the businesses struggling to retain workers, the schools wondering why children are missing class, and the communities watching their social fabric fray. The grassroots response we saw in the first Trump administration shows that communities have the power to respond with humanity and practical solutions. As deportations ramp up again, we have a choice: We can watch as our neighbors disappear or we can build on these proven strategies to protect the diverse communities we've built together.
Nikki Marín Baena is co-executive director of Siembra NC, which organizes to help immigrant workers defend their rights in North Carolina.
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