[image: Text excerpts from the poem, available by clicking “dogs!” in the text above. The second stanza in the second image is text at angles that intersects each other, saying “ruff ruff motherfuckaaaaa!!” All other stanzas are text blocks.]
[Image Description: A screenshot of a tweet from user Neeerts on a black background with white text, reading: ’my hot take on LGBT “education” (aka legally being allowed to mention that not everyone is cishet in a school without losing your job) is that if your kid is old enough to make fun of other kids by calling them gay they’re old enough to be told they’re being a bigoted little shit’.]
I am cishet but I also grew up in the UK under Section 28. To save the Americans having to Google it, it was an old UK law (thankfully repelled now) brought in by a PM who was basically Reagan with tits and a handbag that forbid the “promotion of homosexuality” in schools.
And although this ally is very sorry if this is me stepping out of my lane (I’ve had a lecture on that recently for something I thought was fine) but I couldn’t agree with this post more. And one or two of my teachers could have done with that particular lesson too!
A Gordon Ramsey-esque disability advocate travelling around the world to roast ableist assholes
“What do you mean you run a blog about your child without their permission? I wouldn’t trust you running a bath, let alone a fucking social media platform”
“Hey, panini head, are you listening to me? I said DON’T TELL THEM TO TRY YOGA”
“Oh, you think they should have a positive attitude? You deserve a kick in the nuts”
“You loiter in accessible parking spaces to see if people are “faking” or not? You’ve just confirmed in my mind that you’re not trustworthy. So fuck you”
“You took a disabled person to prom ten years ago and won’t shut up about it whenever you meet another disabled person? YOU’RE A FUCKING DISGRACE”
“My gran could be a better person! And she’s dead!”
The Red Band Trailer for ‘The Legend of Vox Machina’ dropped today, and I would like to apologize to Tumblr for a show that is very clearly engineered to send everyone here to horny jail for various crimes. These crimes include (but are not limited to):
these les beans
the new ‘step on me’ Tumblr lady
this bisexual disaster
evil, sexy power couple
this glorious man
precision-engineered Tumblr sexyman
and everything about every one of these assholes.
It’s like a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure novel of horny jail, with just as much death and violence.
It was then Ryker noticed the shirt [Beau] was wearing. Too big, clearly belonging to Garnet, black with block white letters reading FUCK THE POLICE. He snorted a laugh, nodding in reference. “What'cha got there?”
Beau glanced down, confused before grabbing the shirt.
“Garnet lent me a change of clothes,” he looked back up, finding Ryker’s smirk. “It’s ironic! Isn’t it funny?” He laughed, loud and juvenile as if suddenly overtaken by it. Or relieved. Ryker noticed the moisture in his lashes, gathering in a hurry, and pulled Beau into a tight hug.
The laughter went quiet, whimpering a cry.
Bad
“…Remember, we need to do the least amount of damage as possible.” [Ryker] turned to Valetta.
She kissed her teeth, rolling her eyes, “Y'okay, fine.”
“Regardless of what happens, the main thing is to keep in contact. Good or bad, keep each other in the loop. If we lose contact for any reason, if you hit a dead-end, come back here.”
The gate rattled, hinges grating as Mikki pulled it open. Ryker tried his mic again, “Okay Garnet, we’re in. What’ve you got?”
Brain
“Kiki and Midland? I’m sure this has never worked, ever.” [Ryker] motioned between them. “I swear, the two of you only have one braincell.” Beau noticed the cup he sat down beside him, steam filling the area with the volatile scent of dark roast coffee. Beau leaned closer to inspect it.
"On this paycheck? That’s all we can afford!” Midland defended.
Boring
Garnet noticed Beau approach from the corner of his eye, cursing under his breath as he walked up beside him. Hovering. He was worse than the caffeine withdrawal headache. Lacking personal space, boringhis stare up at Garnet until he turned, "What? What? What is it??”
“Ryker asked me to wait here for Valetta.” He still didn’t have expressions down, smile wide and fake making Garnet cringe.
“Okay? There’s like twenty feet of road you could wait in.” He didn’t and Garnet wasn’t entirely surprised. Ryker didn’t let anyone be ‘mean’ to him, so he got away with whatever he wanted.
Brush
“What if,” Ryker grimaced as if his frustration was painful. “What if I become too much? It… it’s like I take one step forward and three steps back. I’m still so far behind. And I know you would do anything for me and that, God, that terrifies me.”
Ives shuffled closer unsure what he should say.
“You’ve seen how low I can go, how fucked up I can be. What if it gets worse? What if I’m too much? What if being broken breaks you too?”
Hesitantly, not wanting to hurt him, Ives gathered up the courage to brushtheir knuckles together.
“I am not made to heal, Hadrian,” he whispered. “And I understand that I cannot heal what you feel is broken. But it doesn’t deter me. I have seen your progress, how you haven’t given up, and I want to be someone to lean on when you need it.” He was still so unused to these feelings, nevertheless how to explain them. The thought of doing so incorrectly was nearly enough to strangle him.
A cool rush of relief surged through him as Ryker shakily took his hand, giving his fingers a squeeze.
Bang
A rib-cracking kick drove into his side. Calling out, Garnet wrapped an arm around the leg, trying to drag him off his feet. Bending the knee, [FakeBeau] yanked him closer, snatching him by the throat and lifting. He was airborne for a split second, crashing on his back with a resounding bang. He gaped for air, lungs seized, skull ringing from impact. Before he could get a breath, [FakeBeau] straddled him, lifting a long shard of glass over his head.
Garnet caught his wrists, straining to hold him back. [FakeBeau] gaped through those empty eyes, steadily pressing further as if Garnet was of no hindrance. Hydraulics whined in their struggle, Garnet kicking across slick tile, arms burning as they shook.
“You’re only going to die tired,” [FakeBeau] informed in the same deadened voice.
