on the would be 69th birthday of fallen revolutionary, fred hampton, i want to repeat this rare story deminta frazer told during the combahee river collective and the black feminist tradition panel at socialism 2017.
*~*when frazer was around 15/16 she used to spend her mornings volunteering with the free breakfast program at the chicago chapter of the black panther party where hampton was stationed. she mentioned when she entered her teen years she was routinely cat called and harassed but hampton was one of the only men who totally respected her agency and would pull her to the side to ask her how she was doing. frazer said something along the lines of ‘he showed the love and respect that black men can show to black women’ and that influenced how she accepts the same treatment from every dude that comes her way.
when he was murdered in cold blood by the chicago pd with fbi cointelpro intelligence, she was devastated that a man who had such a profound impact on her understanding of solidarity was taken at the tender age of 21. *~*
i had the quotes from the panel but can’t find it atm. this is just based off memory but wanted to share bc i was deeply moved by her honesty and was really really REALLY happy to hear this about fred. once u dig deep with a lot of male iconoclast figures, their relationships with women can be sus to say the least.
Literally EVERYONE who witnesses their study sessions can feel
the sexual tension between them, even Ayato, who once walks in on them
and immediately gets all protective seeing how his sister acts around this white haired stranger, and he looks for excuses to be around and watch. Touka can’t
concentrate and finally tells him to fuck off.
progressively starts to sit closer and closer to Touka with each class, and he doesn’t even notice (poor boy is oblivious til the end
-_-) but she does and she can hear her own blood pumping so loud in her
ears at the scent of him.
They make a habit out of meeting up
after Touka’s shift at the coffee shop is over, and sometimes Touka
doesn’t even need his help but she pretends to need it so they can hang
out. Kaneki also seems to rush his lesson and get it over with so they can talk a
bit or so he can walk her to the train station.
College parties !!!!!! Kaneki gets SO drunk and Touka’s only a
buzzed but they still have ridiculous conversations and end up going for
a walk so Kaneki can sober up a bit and have some fresh air. They’re gone for like an hour. Hide and Yoriko high five when
they see them leave together lmao and when they find out nothing really
happened they get so frustrated cause DAMN THEY’RE SO SLOW
Mutsuki, their classmate, finds out Kaneki is tutoring Touka and gets jealous as FUCK
Touka gets an A in her exam thanks to Kaneki and she looks so proud and happy that he wants to kiss her so, so bad, but she catches him off guard and kisses him first on the cheek. It’s quick and warm, and they don’t know what to say afterwards, so Touka grabs her stuff and leaves with a rushed goodbye. He thinks about it all day
*I was restless on Sunday so I started writing a historical-esque Austen-esque little bit. And here is what I have so far. I might continue it… or I might not. Anyway. 2.6k of something…*
The rain was pouring but Emma Swan was so numb she wasn’t sure she even felt cold. She tugged the strings of her bonnet tighter to her neck as she trudged over the sodden field, her mud soaked skirts becoming heavier and heavier with every step. Finally she reached the shelter of an oak tree, the rain was held back somewhat by its wide green leaves. But she could not appreciate the respite as she struggled to breathe.
Stays too tight, clothes sodden - lord, if she could have stripped down to her shimmy right then she would have. But even for Emma Swan -headstrong and impulsive as she was - that would be a step too far. Instead, she closed her eyes, counted to ten and tried to forget Lieutenant Killian Jones even existed.
“Emma, where have you been?”
She brushed away her mother’s inquiry with a wave of her hand, marching straight to the kitchen where she knew a fire would be blazing. Sure enough it was, a large pot of stew cooking above it. She crouched down and stretched out her numb fingers. The heat radiating from the fireplace was burning hot, making her digits tingle as if they were being pricked by hundreds of tiny pins.
“You’re late back from church.”
It was Granny’s voice, their cook-come-housekeeper who overlooked the few servants they employed. She had been with the family since before Emma had been born and nothing was overlooked by her.
“I decided to walk,” she lied.
Well, it wasn’t a lie. It was merely a half truth. She had walked, but it was not a decision to not take her parent’s carriage home, but more a necessity caused by him.
“Hmmm,” Granny hummed doubtfully, before Emma heard her pulling out a chair. “Come on, you need something warm inside you then to bed before you catch a cold.”
There was little point in arguing. She stood, her skirts clinging to her legs, barely catching the cook’s eye as she sat and let her place a bowl of the stew in front of her with a chunk of bread. Slowly, she ate.
“So how’s that Lieutenant Jones then? And his brother- the Captain? I heard they were at the ball last night.”
Emma swallowed hard. “He is fine,” she lied again, “Fine Granny.”
Theresa May called this election because (at the time) she had a good chance of winning. By doing so she could run with a mandate, something she didn’t really have before because she was never elected. She also hoped to destroy the opposition.
This election is so important. By voting you can defy expectations.
And if you don’t vote, because ‘your vote won’t make a difference’ or 'your not interested in politics’, don’t complain when you realise a Tory government will fuck you over.