skeevie

So I was onced asked if Pira had a familiar and I’m like “eh no but I guess that doesn’t mean I couldn’t make him one”…so…HERE HE IS.

  • This is Dash, he’s a very fluffy, magical squirrel.
  • His favorite hang out spot is Pira’s shoulder, or in the hood of his hoodie.
  • He likes carrots and apparently his tail lights up 💡 very convenient for dark places like skeevy ally ways in Vesuvia.

Enjoy this fluffy squirrel named Dash

Public School Is A Goddamn Disater, Part 2: The Lovecraftian Madness of Machismo

Part 1 here, AKA: the Mantisocalypse (you don;t have to read it to understand this one, but you should anyway)

Content Warnings: Mental Illness, Attempted Murder, Sexual Content, Stalking, Abuse, Animal Abuse Mention, Emetophobia, US Public Education, Military Industrial Complex.  I’ve been told this is my most disturbing story, even if it’s hilarious, so mind your health.  All the names in this story have been changed to protect the innocent and Not-So-Innocent.

This is the story of Recruiting Sergeant Scott VS. The Lacrosse Jocks VS. Yours truly.

To understand this story, you must understand the dystopian hellscape that is US Public High School- I went to the NICE high school in town, with the AP curriculum and new building, where the the kids were generally too obsessed with getting into the ivy league to do anything worse than occasionally smoke on the roof.  Not even weed, just regular cigs.  During their off-periods, so they’d have time to febreeze their clothes and arrive to their next class early.  You know, the most boring fucking kids ever.

AND STILL, we were subjected to the various scourges of US public ed, namely-

-on-campus police officers and regular “what to do in case of a columbine event” drill.  We had Officer Munoz, who was a wonderful Latina Woman with the good sense to focus her efforts on getting kids away from abusive parents rather than persecuting brown kids, but we were VERY lucky on that front.  Still, having someone walking around with a gun and technically the authority to kill you, and having to hide in the science cabinets three times a year fucks you up.  Remember Officer Munoz though, She is Important.

- A weird, cult-like, frankly masturbatory attitude regarding athletic achievement.  The arts and sciences were stuck doing bake sales for supplies while the gym got re-done two years after the school opened.  This was tempered in an odd way at my school in that literally all the sports teams unequivocally sucked, with the exception of 

1.Marching Band, which went to nationals twice in the first two years the school was open 

2.Knowledge Bowl, where kevin and I took the team to 3rd in state in our first year, and only lost because Kevin had an asthma attack so we decided to let the other teams fight over the ‘lesser’ medals 

3.Lacrosse, which didn’t actually didn’t GO anywhere, but was a “real” sport and beat our ‘rival’ school, so the team got to be Big Men On Campus, and get away with all kinds of nonsense like eating in class when everyone else was forbidden or skipping tests for ‘practice’.  The three worst offenders were Dustin, Jack and “Rattlesnake Pete”, all of whom were budding neo-nazis and thus signed up for German.  With our Jewish teacher.  Remember them too.

-On-campus military recruiters.  As in, people who are legally allowed to exaggerate, manipulate and actually lie to minors to convince them to join the armed forces.  Ours was Sergeant Scott, and as much of a skeevy rat as he was I honestly felt bad for him, because remember, academic magnet high school so he had three kinds of kids to work with:

  • Kids who made the physical standards for the armed forces and were all about honoring their country via physical labor, but were dumb as shit and couldn’t pass the written exam.
  • Kids who could pass the written exam and were totally ready to bully some people in the third world, but couldn’t do a pull up if you covered the gym floor in cobras.
  • Kids who passed the physical and mental portions but were uniformly rabidly anti-military industrial complex, to the point where 35 of them crammed into his cubicle in the office he shared with Officer Munoz and Janitor Wendy, so they could hold a sit-in protest of the Iraq war and chant “Impeach Bush” and “War is Murder” at him  Someone chucked red paint on him, because they’re furious immature teenagers.  It was his first day.

Poor bastard.  Remember Him as well.

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Chloe Price: Messes with a guy’s car to steal a band shirt, gets into a fight with 2 skeevy guys at a rock show, takes on the school’s biggest jock for messing with Nathan


Also Chloe Price: Sees one pretty girl and says “nice Rachel we’re having” while talking about the weather

Tweeter and Skeeter.

This is long, be warned. I live in a lowish income neighborhood. My little section is pretty nice, but if you go a few blocks in any direction, it gets pretty shitty. That means I’ve had a few run ins with skeevy meth heads and small time thieves.

This started when I moved in to my house. I noticed that on trash pick-up days, people would go up and down the alley where the trash cans go and dig through looking for recyclables. One of them was a guy I called Old Bob.

Old Bob lived a few houses down. He said he collected to buy presents for his grandkids. I don’t think the kids liked pints of Dark Eyes vodka, but he was harmless. So I started bagging up my cans separately so Old Bob didn’t have to dig through my trash.

Then, there were Tweeter and Skeeter. They would roll up and down the alley in a junky old truck with no exhaust that belched blue smoke. They looked like the after pictures from Faces of Meth. After they saw in was bagging cans for Old Bob, they started grabbing them. This didn’t sit well with me.

The next time I saw Old Bob, I told him I would leave my stuff just inside my yard, up against my shed, where you couldn’t see the bag from the alley. This went on for a month. Then, I heard and smelled Tweeter and Skeeter rumbling down the alley. I didn’t think anything of it, then I heard the rattle of a bag of aluminum cans being thrown into the bed of a truck. Those fuckers had gone into my yard to grab Old Bob’s drinking money. That shit would not stand.

I went to the hardware store; I bought a cheap pair of locks and some latches. I put the latches on my trash cans, I would unlock them when I left for work, which was about 15 minutes before the trash truck came down the alley. I also gave Old Bob a key. By this time, we were becoming downright neighborly. I would chat with him and have him help me around the yard and throw any spare cash his way.

After a few weeks, I heard Tweeter and Skeeter again. I heard them stop, then rattle the can lids, then drive off. I came out the next morning and the fuckers had pried the latches off my cans, and stolen the locks, too.

Now I was pissed. They were stealing Old Bob’s drinking money, and they had fucked with my shit. I stopped keeping cans separate, and started dumping used cat litter over everything.

Tweeter and Skeeter would still roll up to my trash area, but they weren’t willing to dig through shit to get anything. Old Bob was still helping me around the yard, so I would hands him bags of cans when he was over, in addition to the extra cash.

Everything was quiet for a few months. Then, we had a bad storm and the gutters on the alley side of my shed got messed up. They were in OK shape, but the underlying board and gotten torn up. It was too late in the day to do anything, but I figured Old Bob and I could take care of it the next day.

That night, I was woken up by Tweeter and Skeeters damn truck. But before I could throw pants and shoes on and chase them off, they were gone. So were the gutters on my shed.

Needless to say, I was fucking livid. After I calmed down, I went to Home Depot to get a new gutter. As luck would have it, I heard the fucking meth-mobile start up in the parking lot as I was walking in.

I wasn’t about to confront them directly, since I like having all of my blood and internal organs on the inside. What in did do, though, was get a good look at their liscense plates.

They were expired (of course) but the layer of soot from burning oil had obscured the sticker. You wouldn’t notice it from more than 5 feet away.

Finally, I had a way to get back at them. I called a relative who knew a few of the local PD. They said the address on the last registration was a house that had since been burned down in a meth lab fire. They never caught the cooks, but they going to keep an eye out for the truck. If nothing else, they would get a ticket and have to put current plates with a real address on them.

I was OK with this, but I wanted blood. I got my wish when the city did heavy trash pick-up.

I put an old grill in my back yard and scratched “Not Trash”, on the underside, along with spraypainting the smokestack white. Sure enough, Tweeter and Skeeter saw it and couldn’t resist. Once they had done that, I spent a few hours on a Saturday driving around the shittier parts of my neighborhood until I spotted my grill sitting in a yard.

I called my buddy with the police contacts and told them where they could find Tweeter and Skeeter and their un-registered vehicle, along with a stolen grill.

A few hours later, Tweeter and Skeeter came home to a few cops waiting for them. Since scrapping from heavy trash pick-up had been good to them, they were caught with a not insignificant amount of Meth and a lot of precursors to make more.

Tweeter has to serve out a 5 year sentence in prison. He also pinned the lab fire on Skeeter, who will be serving 10 years along side him.

Old Bob still helps me out, too.

back at it again with the over-analyzing

everything chloe wrote on the walls of the bathroom were things that hurt her, whether she showed it or not. it’s everything a teenager would feel insecure about.

“Kid” - Bouncer. 
I remember my teenage years vividly, and not just because I’m fresh into my twenties. My teens were a lot like Chloe’s - angry, frustrated, and lonely. Being called a ‘kid’ when you’re in the middle of your teens, the years where you’re finally getting a taste of some freedom, is frustrating as hell because it’s like it’s putting you back in diapers and training wheels when you just got out of them.

‘Women take forever to get ready’ - David.
A big stereotype for women and just another reason for Chloe to hate David. Especially because it took Chloe, like, two seconds to get ready, but she was helping Joyce and talking to her for the rest of the time.

‘ … ‘ - Max.
Radio silence from her best friend. The last text Chloe sent to her was in January. It’s now May.

‘There will be consequences’ - Mom.
The entire theme of the goddamn games oof Chloe may get in fights with her mom, but she doesn’t hate her at all. The idea of disappointing Joyce has always been shown as one of Chloe’s weak points.

“You deaf or just lazy?” - David.
“I’m leaving” - Rachel
“You’re pathetic” - Biker
“You’re trying too hard” - Frank
“Crazy freak” - Drew
“Bitch” - Skeevy Guy
“I don’t like your attitude” - Other Skeevy Guy
“Go back to your trailer” - Victoria
“Insubordinate” - Wells
“Elf Barbarian” - Steph & Mikey

Almost all of these are referring to her personality. But three of these catch my eye.

“I’m leaving” - Rachel
It’s been heavily hinted at that Chloe definitely has some form of mental disorder - possibly borderline personality which includes a fear of abandonment. Her father’s death and Max leaving for Seattle with no contact doesn’t really help. So Rachel leaving her at the junkyard put Chloe in an incredibly vulnerable state, to the point where she was actually begging Rachel to stay.

“Go back to your trailer” - Victoria
Chloe’s family isn’t well-off. Like. They’re really poor. She’s at Blackwell on scholarship, but Joyce’s only job is at the diner and David doesn’t work (yet). In Life is Strange, their financial struggles are even more prominent despite David being the new security officer at Blackwell. So yeah, Chloe being poor? That’s definitely a sore subject.

“Elf Barbarian” - Steph & Mikey
This is wild because like. It was only a character they gave her, but it was a character that they thought would suit her well. Skinny and really angry. That’s what they saw when they looked at her.

marino-kun  asked:

Do you take prompt? What about Stiles having a secret crush on Derek but when saw him, taking care Scott's son, he fell in love.

I’m not much of a kid fic person, so this took me a while, but I tried. Hopefully it’s kind of what you were angling for!

*

“Do you think I’m ready for fatherhood?” Stiles asks, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. He’s not freaking out about this. He’s not.

Boyd says flatly, “Stilinski, you’re twenty-one years old. You’re supposed to know how to use a condom by now.“

Stiles’ hand spasms and he accidentally squirts a huge glob of ketchup on his mound of curly fries. Fuck. He has the ideal ketchup-to-curly-fry ratio down to a science, and this is not it. “No, absolutely not what I meant. It’s just. Did you know Derek had a kid?”

Boyd meditatively takes a bite of his burger. “No. But the nice thing about Derek is that he doesn’t go in for personal talk.”

Stiles shoots him a weird look. Of course Boyd would think that was nice. Stiles, though, has been trying to break down Derek’s walls even just a little bit for months now—sitting with him in class, sharing his notes, studying with him in the library and getting late-night waffles together afterwards, little by little pulling Derek out of his shell. He’d thought he was getting somewhere, but obviously not, not if Derek failed to mention this kid even existed.

Which he does. Stiles knows, because he can see him right now, over by Prof. Martin’s pool. Apparently his name is Jamie.

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Star Wars Propaganda by Pablo Hidalgo

via Wikipedia: “In many of the world’s military establishments, a brevet was a warrant giving a commissioned officer a higher rank title as a reward for gallantry or meritorious conduct, but without conferring the authority, precedence, or pay of real rank.”

Thanks to @evaceratops I’m crying about Star Wars again because basically, the Jedi were given a higher rank without the pay or the authority that should have gone along with it.  And it’s not like they probably would have cared about the money (they were likely Republic-funded already) but it’s the skeevy nature of making them responsible for more without actually giving them any of the authority or pay that should have gone along with it.

It sounds like they were essentially drafted into the war and really didn’t have a choice.  (As Eva points out–no wonder Anakin wasn’t allowed to go see Ashoka.)  And you know what else they didn’t have a choice about?

The Jedi were given no choice in the matter.

I’ve laid out my thoughts on this before, but it’s explicitly said here–the Separatists’ propaganda (fed by Dooku, you know, the evil guy who enslaved and murdered millions) said the Jedi callously used a slave army, all while the truth was they were given no choice.

This isn’t about whether or not it was right to use the clones the way they did (it wasn’t), but that the Jedi didn’t just choose this.  They were put in the position of that they had to fight, the clone army was going to be used, and they were run so ragged through their attempts to save lives and their lack of choice (which strongly suggests they tried to say no they didn’t agree to this!) that it became a giant clusterfuck.

Trump was all for First Amendment rights of the press in 2013.

And to make it an official skeevy Trump tweet, he was backing his fellow sexual predator, Roger Ailes.

As folks are making posts addressing that disgusting Nick Robinson situation, I’ve seen a lot on my dash today noting that he is a clear example of someone who took advantage of a reputation for being “soft” and removed from toxic masculinity to convince others that nobody would believe he wasn’t “safe” and trustworthy.

I’ve read this said in a lot of different ways, and, whether well-intentioned or  not, a disheartening number of them have said things like “remember to be suspicious of dudes who present themselves as gender non-conforming” or “if a guy ids as a ‘softboy’ or gender nonconforming, that’s a red flag!”

So hey folks! Remember to drag the people you intend. Being soft and/or gnc is not a red flag, is not dangerous, and is rarely a front. When you see someone using their self-id as or reputation for being soft and/or gnc to deflect critique, someone pairing this image with skeevy (or worse) behavior, someone pushing an image of purity or being beyond reproach…that‘s the kind of action I know the posts that alarmed me are talking about. So take an extra minute to make sure your posts along these lines are clearly saying that softness and gender nonconformity are not synonymous with goodness or trustworthiness–without implying that trans folks, gnc folks, femme guys, etc. are scary for being so!

one week since u looked at me

James and LIly fight and it’s 100% the other person’s fault, and everyone is just a little bit unhinged. 

3371 Words

For @expressopatronum​, who requested a jily fic based on the Barenaked Ladies song. :D


tues.

James Potter to M8S B4 D8S: well. Fuck.

James Potter: im broken up

James Potter: literally

James Potter: and metaphorically

James Potter: and every other kind of shitty ally tbh

James Potter: hello?????

James Potter: im in Crisis here

Peter Pettigrew: we know, mate. You ok?

James Potter: how??

Peter Pettigrew: well…

James Potter: she texted u???

Remus Lupin: she texted me

Peter Pettigrew: then he told us

Remus Lupin: wtf, Prongs

James Potter: u believe her???

Remus Lupin: didn’t say that, mate. Just a weird situation, yeah??

James Potter: Weird = shitty, then yea. her fault tho for being so dramatic!! And do u arseholes have a group chat w/out me???

Sirius Black: nah. y would we do smth like that to u prongs. go chill @ mine. AND i for one am being a good mate and withholding judgment. (except on evans cos shes clearly at fault here)

James Potter: damn straight she is. 100%!!! and im already @ urs, actually. where r u tho?

Sirius Black: alcohol

James Potter: Good Man

Remus Lupin: I’m getting pizza

James Potter: don’t bother?? never eating again

James Potter: PS no more talking to evans unless its for espionage

Peter Pettigrew: this should be fun

 - - -

 James Potter to Not Lovely Lily: ready for ur apology, like, whenever, babe

James Potter: no?

James Potter: sirius’s sofa is super fucking cosy, btw

James Potter: PS whatever the current differences between us, pls dont stoop so low as to eat Mums biscuits

Keep reading

SPN Hunters and Poverty

Ok the Original Post* was getting pretty long and I wanted to go off on a tangent so I’ve started a new one here:

So like, the audience is supposed to think it’s uncomfortable and possibly wrong for people whose job it is to save the world to have a certain level of luxury. Which is less than the one the people making the story have.

Honestly, I always knew they were there, but for the first time I’m actually kinda creeped out by the class issues in SPN (ok, I lie- the prices Creation charges creep me the fuck out, but aside from that. I mean in the actual story). Like, Sam and Dean are not truly poor anymore. But they do still live partially as working poor. They’re still economically insecure; depicted as, in some ways, working poor people who go into mostly middle-class and upper-middle-class communities, do a horrifying vital service, and then disappear. And it’s romantic, heroic. But it’s wrong.

Like, it’s actually a moral wrong that they should be poor. They deserve to be at least as economically stable as their creators.

We talk a lot about romanticizing violence, but what does it mean that the whole structure of the show honestly kinda romanticizes the poverty of the working class? Walmart is not romantic; it just sucks. @chiisana-sukima

Yes, American SPN Hunters are portrayed, generally, as working class (Winchesters, Campbells, Bobby) or middle class (Asa Fox, Jody, Donna). I think it is important to keep in mind that one reason full time hunters often seem poor is that the majority of what they are doing is a) considered criminal and b) needs to stay secret.  So they have to live under/off the radar.  In order to do that, you need to be either VERY, VERY wealthy (and bribe everyone) or you have to commit fraud on a daily basis. Assuming none of our hunters have endless supplies of cash, being cheap helps with the daily committing fraud process. Here’s why/how:

1) Hunters scam credit cards  - because they can’t hold down a real job and hunt, which means they have no means of income (other than technically criminal activity like hustling pool and looting the monster victims). Also, they can’t BE themselves - they cannot afford to be traced - by the authorities OR by the very smart humanoid monsters they hunt. Scammed cards can get detected really fast if you are throwing money around. Also, scammed cards are only as good as their limit (which is likely to be low) - so you want to make them last as long as possible. Lastly, when your card IS caught, skeevy, ethically questionable places are less likely to report it to the police. So Hunters look for cheap, dive places to spend their fake cash. Note: often some of these skeevy places are NOT less expensive than the Holiday In Express - they just ask fewer questions or will rent a room without a credit card or will forget you were there (or are more used to cleaning up blood from sheets).

2) Hunters are con men - they have to pretend to be authority figures/repairmen/teachers/social workers/lost relatives in order to get the information they need. They need to be ‘noticed’ as little as possible and leave almost record of their stay. Using a credit card leaves a trail - so that means using cash in places that won’t notice cash, and eating in places that see (and forget) lots of strangers. They also need to be hard to find when their identity is questioned. Who would look for the FBI in a skeevy hotel? Those two shifty guys in flannel coming out of the dilapidated Inn on rt 20 couldn’t possibly be the nice men we talked to earlier today…[of course the giant black car and hunter’s ridiculously good looks aren’t a problem, but that’s tv land for you].

3) Hunters are rural nomads - Notice that, in general, Hunters try to stay out of cities. While one of the main themes of SPN was supposed to be a focus on ‘heartland America’  - but really, woods monsters hide in rural areas, and (in theory) many human-eating monsters are are nomads, roaming for food. Thus Hunters focus on rural America and move around a lot following the monsters. Rural America is full of very small towns/places with no other option than the 1-2 star hotel (or less). One of my fav personal stories is of staying in the ONE motel in the entire COUNTY in TN - and it was EXACTLY the kind of place a Hunter would stay (right down to the friendly diner next door and the truck stop on the other side).  If you were wealthy and wanted to stay in that area - you rented a whole HOUSE/cabin in the nearby picturesque woods  - which is likely to get VERY noticed - or you stayed 30-50 inconvenient miles away.

US Hunters Evolving: Donna and Jody are an exception to many of the above statements. But they are a different kind of hunter - one that fans feel is an evolution of the American Hunter - the regional protectors. Jody and Donna, both suburban middle class, use their actual positions of authority to learn about and track monsters and also to cover up the evidence. They keep their own gerenal area ‘clean’ and call in “full time” nomadic hunters to deal with scarier stuff or stuff they hear about outside their territories. Their positions and training also make them capable fighters - brave, good with guns, etc.

US Hunters Best of a Broken System: Lastly, remember that the US did have a system more like that of the BMOL - academic magicians in authority directing local hunters to kill problems. What the US has NOW is what developed as a stop gap when the MoL vanished. Hunters like Dorothy and Mr. Ketch (shudder) trained others to keep the monsters at bay. They were focused on the find and kill part - not the administrative outlook of “Hey, if we are smart and make enough $, we can do this job better, faster and more efficiently.”  ‘Cause *I* know I sleep better in nicer hotels and I WORK better if I’m really well rested. Sam and Dean are MACHINES, really, - the stuff they pull off given how crappy they treat their bodies…

In Conclusion: Hell, I’ve lost the thread of where I was really going with this…it has devolved into an examination of WHY the class differences exist between US and British ‘hunter systems’. Not sure I’ve addressed @chiisana-sukima‘s concern about the morality of SPN implying that hunters SHOULD be poor or working class. 

Anyone else?