#cable company fuckery

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Big Telco’s fury over FCC plan to infuse telecoms policy with facts

I'll be at the Studio City branch of the LA Public Library on Monday, November 13 at 1830hPT to launch my new novel, The Lost Cause. There'll be a reading, a talk, a surprise guest (!!) and a signing, with books on sale. Tell your friends! Come on down!

Reality has a distinct anti-conservative bias, but conservatives have an answer: when the facts don't support your policies, just get different facts. Who needs evidence-based policy when you can have policy-based evidence?

Take gun violence. Conservatives tell us that "an armed society is a polite society," which means that the more guns you have, the less gun violence you'll experience. To prevent reality from unfairly staining this pristine ideological mind-palace with facts, conservatives passed the Dickey Amendment, which had the effect of banning the CDC from gathering stats on American gun-violence. No stats, no violence!

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dickey_Amendment

Policy-based evidence is at the core of so many cherished conservative beliefs, like the idea that queer people (and not youth pastors) are responsible for the sexual abuse of children, or the idea that minimum wages (and not monopolies) decrease jobs, or the idea that socialized medicine (and not private equity) leads to death panels:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/26/death-panels/#what-the-heck-is-going-on-with-CMS

The Biden administration features a sizable cohort of effective regulators, whose job is to gather evidence and then make policy from it:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/23/getting-stuff-done/#praxis

Fortunately for conservatives, not every Biden agency is led by competent, honest brokers – the finance wing of the Dems got to foist some of their most ghoulish members upon the American people, including a no-fooling cheerleader for mass foreclosure:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/06/personnel-are-policy/#janice-eberly

And these same DINOs reached across the aisle to work with Republicans to keep some of the most competent, principled agency leaders from being seated, like the remarkable Gigi Sohn, targeted by a homophobic smear campaign funded by the telco industry, who feared her presence on the FCC:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/19/culture-war-bullshit-stole-your-broadband/

The telcos are old hands at this stuff. Long before the gun control debates, Ma Bell had figured out that a monopoly over Americans' telecoms was a license to print money, and they set to corrupting agencies from the FCC to the DoJ:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/14/jam-to-day/

Reality has a vicious anti-telco bias. Think of Net Neutrality, the idea that if you pay an ISP for internet service, they should make a best effort to deliver the data you request, rather than deliberately slowing down your connection in the hopes that you'll seek out data from the company's preferred partners, who've paid a bribe for "premium delivery."

This shouldn't even be up for debate. The idea that your ISP should prioritize its preferred data over your preferred data is as absurd as the idea that a taxi-driver should slow down your rides to any pizzeria except Domino's, which has paid it for "premium service." If your cabbie circled the block twice every time you asked for a ride to Massimo's Pizza, you'd be rightly pissed – and the cab company would be fined.

Back when Ajit Pai was Trump's FCC chairman, he made killing Net Neutrality his top priority. But regulators aren't allowed to act without evidence, so Pai had to seek out as much policy-based evidence as he could. To that end, Pai allowed millions of obviously fake comments to be entered into the docket (comments from dead people, one million comments from @pornhub.com address, comments from sitting Senators who disavowed them, etc). Then Pai actively – and illegally – obstructed the NY Attorney General's investigation into the fraud:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/06/boogeration/#pais-lies

The pursuit of policy-based evidence is greatly aided by the absence of real evidence. If you're gonna fill the docket with made-up nonsense, it helps if there's no truthful stuff in there to get in the way. To that end, the FCC has systematically avoided collecting data on American broadband delivery, collecting as little objective data as possible:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/26/pandemic-profiteers/#flying-blind

This willful ignorance was a huge boon to the telcos, who demanded billions in fed subsidies for "underserved areas" and then just blew it on anything they felt like – like the $45 billion of public money they wasted on obsolete copper wiring for rural "broadband" expansion under Trump:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/27/all-broadband-politics-are-local/

Like other cherished conservative delusions, the unsupportable fantasy that private industry is better at rolling out broadband is hugely consequential. Before the pandemic, this meant that America – the birthplace of the internet – had the slowest, most expensive internet service of any G8 country. During the lockdown, broadband deserts meant that millions of poor and rural Americans were cut off from employment, education, health care and family:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/12/ajit-pai/#pai

Pai's response was to commit another $8 billion in public funds to broadband expansion, but without any idea of where the broadband deserts were – just handing more money over to monopoly telcos to spend as they see fit, with zero accountability:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/26/pandemic-profiteers/#flying-blind

All that changed after the 2020 election. Pai was removed from office (and immediately blocked me on Twitter) (oh, diddums), and his successor, Biden FCC chair Jessic Rosenworcel, started gathering evidence, soliciting your broadband complaints:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/23/parliament-of-landlords/#fcc

And even better, your broadband speed measurements:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/14/for-sale-green-indulgences/#fly-my-pretties

All that evidence spurred Congress to act. In 2021, Congress ordered the FCC to investigate and punish discrimination in internet service provision, "based on income level, race, ethnicity, color, religion, or national origin":

https://www.congress.gov/117/plaws/publ58/PLAW-117publ58.pdf

In other words, Congress ordered the FCC to crack down on "digital redlining." That's when historic patterns of underinvestment in majority Black neighborhoods and other underserved communities create broadband deserts, where internet service is slower and more expensive than service literally across the street:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/10/flicc/#digital-divide

FCC Chair Rosenworcel has published the agency's plan for fulfilling this obligation. It's pretty straightforward: they're going to collect data on pricing, speed and other key service factors, and punish companies that practice discrimination:

https://www.fcc.gov/document/preventing-digital-discrimination-broadband-internet-access

This has provoked howls of protests from the ISP cartel, their lobbying org, and their Republican pals on the FCC. Writing for Ars Technica, Jon Brodkin rounds up a selection of these objections:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2023/11/internet-providers-say-the-fcc-should-not-investigate-broadband-prices/

There's GOP FCC Commissioner Brendan Carr, with a Steve Bannon-seque condemnation of "the administrative state [taking] effective control of all Internet services and infrastructure in the US. He's especially pissed that the FCC is going to regulate big landlords who force all their tenants to get slow, expensive from ISPs who offer kickbacks to landlords:

https://www.fcc.gov/document/carr-opposes-bidens-internet-plan

The response from telco lobbyists NCTA is particularly, nakedly absurd: they demand that the FCC exempt price from consideration of whether an ISP is practicing discrimination, calling prices a "non-technical aspect of broadband service":

https://www.fcc.gov/ecfs/document/110897268295/1

I mean, sure – it's easy to prove that an ISP doesn't discriminate against customers if you don't ask how much they charge! "Sure, you live in a historically underserved neighborhood, but technically we'll give you a 100mb fiber connection, provided you give us $20m to install it."

This is a profoundly stupid demand, but that didn't stop the wireless lobbying org CTIA from chiming in with the same talking points, demanding that the FCC drop plans to collect data on "pricing, deposits, discounts, and data caps," evaluation of price is unnecessary in the competitive wireless marketplace":

https://www.fcc.gov/ecfs/document/1107735021925/1

Individual cartel members weighed in as well, with AT&T and Verizon threatening to sue over the rules, joined by yet another lobbying group, USTelecom:

https://www.fcc.gov/ecfs/document/1103655327582/1

The next step in this playbook is whipping up the low-information base by calling this "socialism" and mobilizing some of the worst-served, most-gouged people in America to shoot themselves in the face (again), to own the libs:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/15/useful-idiotsuseful-idiots/#unrequited-love

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/10/digital-redlining/#stop-confusing-the-issue-with-relevant-facts

Image: Japanexperterna.se (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/japanexperterna/15251188384/

CC BY-SA 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

--

Mike Mozart (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/jeepersmedia/14325839070/

https://www.flickr.com/photos/jeepersmedia/14325905568/

https://www.flickr.com/photos/jeepersmedia/14489390566/

www.ccPixs.com https://www.flickr.com/photos/86530412@N02/8210762750/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

#pluralistic #reality-based community #willful ignorance #digital redlining #telecoms #isps #cable company fuckery #net neutrality #network neutrality #fcc #monopolies #market failures #musketfuckers #ammosexuals #guns #race #reality has an anti-conservative bias #dickey amendment #policy based evidence #facts don't care about your feelings

[dirt-grub]

old game i like: *has some insanely outdated and esoteric multiplayer feature that could still technically work*

me: i have never wanted to do something so bad in my entire life

#GUYS COME TO MY HOUSE FOR MARIO KART NIGHT WE'LL HAVE AN EIGHT GAMECUBE LAN PARTY #guys. guuys #you can play with SIXTEEN PEOPLE on MARIO KART DOUBLE DASH FOR GAMECUBE #you just need eight fucking gamecubes and screens #BUT ITS NOT SPLITSCREEN! YOU GET YOUR OWN SCREEN! AND ITS DOUBLE DASH! #actually doing the math on how much hardware youd need is really funny though #it would NOT be worth gathering up unless you and all your friends just already had a gamecube several controllers and double dash #WHICH fuck i used to have four controllers and at least three gamecubes floating around #and. one copy of double dash so thats a start #hm actually. this might not be soooo insane to try if i just go for like. not 16 whole people #i dont think i even know 16 whole people except how many cousins i have #but i doubt a bunch of zoomers are gonna be thrilled when i go hey kids who wants to have a LAN party!!!!! #but like okay. we have LOADS of shit TVs hanging around #my dad works for a cable company so we got like tvs and chords for days #i have A gamecube. i bet i know people with some just sitting in their attics #honestly the hardest part would be getting EIGHT COPIES OF DOUBLE DASH #jesus FUCK #yes i could easily do this with dolphin but this is the one case where i absolutely must have physical hardware fuckery #its so stupid i HAVE to #god. being friends with me must be a chore HDKASHDLSADJ #im never like hey lets go grab food or something. go to the mall. see a movie #im like LISTEN WE DONT HAVE MUCH TIME. WE NEED TO TRACK DOWN GAMECUBES. DONT ASK QUESTIONS #fun fact! i am always like this and its incurable :) #its just one fuckass idea after the next #connor talks #god. and like i want to do more bday parties as i get older bc i missed out on so many years and its an excuse to hold friends hostage #and make them indulge in my asanine bullshit #but like. how fucking funny and lame would it be to have a GAMECUBE LAN PARTY on my TWENTIETH birthday #in the year 2022. good god #(i turn 20 next year. what the fuck. what the fuck)

[stevensaus]

House Republicans propose poisoning Net Neutrality bill with Article-13-like liability http://bit.ly/2NZf7Zg http://bit.ly/2NZf7Zg

#post #cable company fuckery #cda 230 #fosta

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: Back At You (Butch/Buttercup)

A T-rated Greens one shot I did for our resident gothic heroine @avesthetea over on AO3! 💚

A heartfelt shoutout to the Instagram clown cult. Y’all know who you are and how much you inspire me to chronicle Brick’s eternal suffering in new and creative ways. It’s what we do.

Summary: When Buttercup's birthday planning falls apart at the last minute, the last person she would ever expect offers his help (or horror, depending on your perspective).

xxx

Buttercup’s phone buzzed on the nightstand by her head, and she jerked awake. Swallowing the bitter sleep taste, she wiped her mouth and fumbled for the phone. Head still buried in the pillow, she answered: “What time is it?”

“Time to get your ass to the precinct,” said Ty, her partner at the Citiesville Police Department. “Chief Foolery’s all hands meeting starts in twenty minutes. Tell me you’re not still asleep.”

Buttercup sprang up on her elbows and checked the time on her phone. Shit, she was going to be late. “Shit, I’m going to be late!”

“Girl, that’s what I’m tellin’ you—”

“Gotta go, bye!” Buttercup hung up the phone and would have launched out of bed if not for the arm that slipped around her waist and pulled her back down.

“Five more minutes,” Butch grumbled.

Buttercup lost her balance and ended up with her bare back flush against his equally bare chest. His breath was hot on the back of her neck where he pushed his nose among her loose black hair. “Butch, I have to go,” she said in a warning tone.

He chuckled, and it sent a thrill of heat down her spine and under the covers, where he pushed a knee between her thighs. “Why go when you could come?” The arm he’d looped around her waist traveled low beneath the sheets.

Buttercup groaned at his crass joke and caught his wrist before he could carry out the threat. “Because if I’m not at CPD headquarters in twenty minutes, Foolery’s going to pop a hemorrhoid—”

Butch flipped them over with his Super speed, and her back hit the mattress beneath him. He loomed over her, those green eyes acid-bright in the early morning sunlight streaming through his bedroom window. Her traitorous gaze raked up his chest, over the shadow of stubble on his jaw, and settled on those fast darkening eyes as he admired her in turn. But the moment he bent down to kiss her, she slipped out from under him in a flash of green and darted across the room. In a matter of seconds, she’d pulled out a spare change of clothes from the lone dresser drawer he’d cleared out for her use.

“Leaving me hangin’? For real?” Butch complained as he flopped back down among the sheets with a yawn.

“You’ll live. But I won’t if I’m late for this fuckery.” She dressed quickly in dark jeans and a button-up blouse before heading to the connecting bathroom Butch shared with his daughter, Brisa.

“Missin’ out!” Butch called from the bedroom.

Yeah, Buttercup thought as she combed through the tangles in her hair with her fingers and ran the water to brush her teeth. A knock on the door interrupted her morning ablutions, and Brisa entered through her bedroom door.

“G’morning,” she said. Her brown hair was a frizzy mess, and she clutched a stuffed purple Pretty Puff Pony under one arm.

Despite her haste to get out of there and jet to work, Buttercup spared the little girl a soft smile. “Morning, kid. You’re up early.”

Brisa grinned wide. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Buttercup’s smile fell immediately. “Did Butch sneak you that second chocolate bar after dinner last night? Goddamnit—Butch!”

“What, change your mind?” he called. “I knew you couldn’t leave before climbing my morning wood.”

Brisa made a face like she was going to ask, and Buttercup slammed Butch’s bedroom door shut. “Never mind. Let me guess, you were too excited to sleep because today’s your birthday, right?”

Brisa blinked up at her and smiled, her questions forgotten. “Yeah! Oh my gosh, we’re gonna have so much fun!”

Buttercup chuckled and ruffled her messy hair. “For sure. But first, I have to go to work.”

“You’ll be back for my party, right?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Pinky promise?” Brisa held out her little finger.

Buttercup hooked her pinky around Brisa’s. “I promise. Now go get dressed and brush your teeth. I’ll check on your dad.”

“Okay!”

Buttercup breezed through the bedroom, chucked Butch his sweat pants with a cautionary “Hide your dick,” and flew out of her paramour’s two-bedroom apartment in downtown Townsville just as Brisa came bursting in excited to start the day.

xxx

The morning was a complete waste of time, and a bitter part of Buttercup lamented not skipping out in favor of staying in bed with Butch.  

“Well, at least nobody died today,” Ty said as he and munched on his doner kebab lunch to go. “Yet.”

Buttercup sucked down half of a water bottle after scarfing down her own lunch. They had stopped at the food truck parked a couple blocks from the precinct, opting for a quick fix as they watched oblivious pedestrians lost to their Air Pods. “Welcome back to active duty, Mr. Brightside.”

Ty chuckled, low and deep. After a few months of healing and rigorous physical therapy, his legs were completely healed and he’d finally been cleared for work that didn’t involve pushing papers at his desk. Once more standing tall with the sun shining off his bald head, Buttercup could not have been happier to have her partner back to his old self by her side.

“You bring it outta me.” Ty winked.

“You ready to head out?” she asked, tossing her wrapper in a corner trashcan. Traffic was shit as usual midday on a Saturday, but they had time before Brisa’s party was slated to start.

“Sure. Lemme just text Melanie.”

Buttercup figured she better catch up with Butch while she waited for Ty and make sure he was on the ball.

[Buttercup: Did you pick up the cake?]

After a few seconds, he replied.

[Butch: Omw with B. You still on clown duty?]

Buttercup groaned at the reminder.

[Buttercup: Can I just say he died and couldn’t make it?]

[Butch: Sure, if you want to crush B’s hopes and dreams 💔😈]

“Kill me.”

“What’s wrong now?” Ty asked.

Buttercup pocketed her phone and led the way to the precinct parking lot where Ty’s car was parked. “Just grappling with some casual childhood trauma coming back to bite me in the ass.”

Ty side-eyed her. “Which one?”

“Ha ha.”

They made it to his red hatchback, and Buttercup slipped into the passenger seat.

“This about Brisa’s birthday party?” Ty asked.

Buttercup groaned again and tugged at her loose hair. “Of all the things, a clown? I thought they were universally considered nightmare fodder for kids these days.”

“Speakin’ of which, I think I remember a psychotic clown attacking Townsville back in the day.”

“You remember correctly.” Buttercup glowered out the window as Ty eased them into traffic toward the Golden Bay Bridge. “But it was the one thing she said she just had to have because some other dumb kid in her class got one for her party.”

“Ah. Six years old and already the social food chain’s tuggin’ on her.”

“Whatever. I never cared about that shit when I was a kid.”

Ty smiled to himself. “Uh-huh.”

Buttercup resigned herself to her unfortunate fate and dialed the company she’d previously contracted to rent a clown for the afternoon. After about five minutes on the phone, she hung up.

“What was that all about?” Ty asked. “Problem?”

Buttercup stared straight ahead as the Golden Bay Bridge’s suspender cables passed her by. “The clown died.”

Ty laughed.

“Ty.” Buttercup looked directly at him. “The guy got hit by a bus on his way to work today and he died.”

Ty shut up. “Oh, uh… Shit.”

A pause.

“I mean, is there another clown, or…?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Buttercup snapped. All she could think of was how Brisa was going to be so upset that the one goddamned thing she had asked for wasn’t going to happen because there was no time to book a new party clown on such short notice on a Saturday.

When Ty shifted in his seat, the leather squeaked loudly in the fuming silence he wisely chose not to break, until he did. “So, should I—”

“Just drive. I’ll think of something…” Buttercup said as she pulled out her phone and tried not to completely lose her shit as she dialed the one person who always seemed to know what to do in a crisis.

“Hey, Blossom,” Buttercup said gravely after her sister picked up. “I think I need some help.”

xxx

When Buttercup and Ty parked in front of her childhood home, guests had already begun arriving. Bubbles was outside greeting people and directing them to the backyard for the festivities. When she spotted Buttercup and Ty, she waved. “Hey, there you are!”

“Have you seen Blossom?” Buttercup asked.

Bubbles pushed up the sleeves of her chunky lavender sweater and looked around. “I think she and Princess were setting up the piñata. Is everything okay—”

Buttercup dashed to the backyard in a blaze of green, leaving Ty to make his way inside at a more sedate pace. The backyard was already teeming with people. Brisa was playing tag with her best friend Richie and a few other kids, while Boomer stacked presents on a table by the back door. Mike and Robin led the day drinking charge by pouring out sangria for the adults and juice for the kids. Buttercup nearly crashed through the green tissue streamers criss-crossing the enclosed backyard in her haste to locate her sister, who was in fact stringing up a red monster-shaped piñata with Princess Morbucks. Or rather, Blossom was doing all the work while Princess held two glasses of bloody sangria and provided live commentary.

“Whoever invented piñatas had the right idea is all I’m saying,” Princess said as she sipped her drink. She was annoyingly chic as usual in designer jeans, dark boots, and a purple silk blouse that probably cost more than the pittance Buttercup’s government paycheck brought in every month.

“You think so?” Blossom said, floating near a high branch so she could toss the suspension rope over it.

“Of course. You’re rewarded with candy for smashing the shit out of your mortal enemy. What could be better than that?”

Blossom grinned. “Mortal enemy in effigy.” She patted the red monster’s snout. “But you’re not wrong.”

“Obviously.” Princess handed her back her sangria, and they shared a knowing laugh.

“Blossom,” Buttercup said.

Blossom smoothed the front of her navy skirt as she turned toward Buttercup. “You’re here. Everything all right?”

Buttercup eyed Princess watching them. “I was going to ask you the same thing. Any progress on the clown front?”

“I’m sorry, the what?” Princess asked.

Blossom’s pink eyes softened, and she put a hand on Buttercup’s shoulder. “I took care of it, don’t worry.”

“Wait, really? How? I called five other rental companies, but everything’s booked solid.”

Blossom’s smile turned devious. “Trust me. Brisa’s going to be very pleased.” Buttercup wanted to argue, but her sister squeezed her shoulder in a silent entreaty. “Just enjoy the party. Boomer, Bubbles, and I have everything under control.”

“Speaking of control,” Princess had her phone out when Blossom turned back to her, “where is that prima donna? He’s not answering any of my texts.”

“Brick’s running a little late,” Blossom said as she led Princess away. “Wardrobe malfunction…”

Their voices faded to the background as Buttercup watched them. Two peas in a fucking pod, and she still didn’t really get what Blossom saw in Princess. If Princess hadn’t played such an integral part in things a couple months back, she would never have given the woman a second thought beyond “Hard pass.”

People, however, had a tendency to surprise when it was down to the wire.

“Heads up, Buttercup!”

Buttercup automatically caught the child hurtling through the air like a tossed water balloon before he could crack his head open.

“O-Oh! Hi, Buttercup,” said Richie, meek and curled in on himself like he’d forgotten he was no longer fragile.

Brisa came dashing over. “Nice catch!”

Buttercup peeled Richie off her and dropped him flat on his ass in the grass. “Brisa, don’t yeet your friends. Bubbles will have an aneurism if she catches you.”

Brisa blushed, abashed. “Sorry…”

Buttercup cracked a smile and winked, and Brisa lit up.

“I’m okay!” Richie, Super resilient, hopped onto his feet and shook out his fluffy blond hair. “Um, does this mean I’m ‘it’ now?”

“No, I wanna play with the clown!” Brisa announced.

Buttercup’s face fell. “Uh, about that…”

Brisa blinked up at her. “He’s coming to my party, right?”

The flicker of doubt that passed through Brisa’s big brown eyes cracked Buttercup’s cold stone heart. She struggled for the words to let her down gently, because whatever Blossom had managed to put together so last minute wasn’t going to be the colorful surprise Buttercup had gone out of her way to book and customize a month in advance.

A round of squeals from the other kids across the yard drew her attention, where they had gathered around Mike at the garden door. “Okay, settle down, kiddos! He’s a little shy. Now, where’s the birthday girl at? Hey, Brisa!”

“C’mon, Brisa, let’s go,” Richie said, tugging on her hand.

But she held her ground and didn’t budge. Buttercup wanted to die.

“Brisa, look,” she began.

The door behind Mike slid open, and out stepped what Buttercup could only describe as her personal revenge fantasy gone morbidly wrong. Brick had never looked so sour in his life.

“Oh! Uh, ta-da!” Mike said hastily as he stepped aside for the person formerly known as Brick until his murder by dishonor.

His steps squeaked in his oversized red shoes, and the striped red and yellow overalls he wore over a polkadot shirt ballooned out at his legs. He looked like a tropical bowling pin. He looked fucking absurd.

“It’s Flameo Hotman! Say hello, kids,” Mike said.

Brick shot Mike a scathing glare that may have incinerated him where he stood if the tiny party hat and enormous red clown nose didn’t ruin the effect. “The hell it is.”

Buttercup had no problem averting her eyes from the literal clownery to focus on Brisa, who was still staring and petrified. Oh shit, oh fuck, she was upset and it was Buttercup’s entire fault—

“Uncle Brick?” Brisa blurted out.

Brick’s lurid eyes passed over Buttercup and landed on Brisa. If Buttercup hadn’t been looking right at him, she would never have believed the way they softened just a little. He pursed his lips and lifted his elastic-tied party hat off his short red hair. It snapped back in place when he let go. “Happy birthday, Brisa.”

Brisa immediately dashed out of Richie’s grip in a sprint too fast to be human and body slammed Brick where he stood. With a grunt, he managed to catch her and keep his balance as she hugged him tight around his inflated waist and laughed. “You look so funny!”

Brick coughed. “Yeah, that’s sort of the point…”

The other kids took that as their cue to also mob Brick, and soon he was adrift in a sea of grubby hands and demands for balloon animals and magic tricks. Buttercup could not believe her eyes. She could hardly remember the last time she saw Brick dressed anything other than to the nines, and now…

“Fuck me,” she wheezed, too stunned even to laugh, it was that heinous.

“Pretty good, huh?” Bubbles sidled up to her with a wrapped present for Brisa under her arm.

Buttercup swallowed hard. She didn’t trust her voice as she watched Brick—Brick—snap at Brisa’s friends to line up in an orderly fashion if they wanted their faces painted, and no cutting the line or there would be consequences.

“The costume’s a little janky, but I didn’t have a lot of notice when Blossom told me we needed something colorful for him to wear,” Bubbles went on.

“Why?” Buttercup croaked. She turned to her baby sister, who seemed totally nonchalant existing in a universe where the selfish clown Blossom had chosen to keep for reasons Buttercup could not sympathize with deigned to dress as a literal fucking clown.

Bubbles slipped her hand in Buttercup’s and squeezed affectionately as they watched Brick paint the requested unicorn on Richie’s face as seriously as if it were a goddamned Monet. “I think this is his way of trying,” she said.

Buttercup would never forget that day two months ago when Butch asked her to come over after Brick had broken down and apologized to Boomer and him and all he wanted to do was break something, to feel it shatter in his hands, so why not her, who couldn’t break? That fight had been one of their most brutal, even compared to their rows in high school in the throes of raging hormones exacerbated by Chemical X.

They hadn’t spoken as they rinsed the dirt and sweat from each other after—Buttercup had been worried about setting him off again after he had settled into some sort of quiet serenity with his fingers in her hair, pulling the tangles out under the warm water like an artist honing his craft. Those hands were always working, always looking for something to crush.

“You ever love someone, but you don’t like them?” he’d asked her as she wrung the water from her hair and he stared at his hollow-eyed reflection in the mirror.

Buttercup was pulled from the memory when Blossom came out of the house to snap pictures on her phone of the kids with their painted faces, a bright smile on her face as Brick continued to ignore the entire world and focus on his task with surprisingly minimal complaint. Buttercup supposed that if anyone could dress like an ass-backwards buffoon and maintain some pretense of dignity, it was Brick.

“Yeah, I guess,” she said at length. She squeezed Bubbles’ hand back.

He’s trying something, all right.

xxx

“I want a dog, please!” asked a snot-nosed kid inexplicably dressed in a full dinosaur suit.

Butch watched Brick from the picnic table he’d plopped down on with a cold beer and three entire pizza boxes set aside entirely for Boomer and himself.

Brick frowned so deeply he looked like he was trying to pass a hardened turd. Wordless, he blew up a long red balloon, tied it off at the end, and handed it to the little boy. “Here.”

The kid accepted the unfolded balloon with quizzical look. “Huh? This isn't a dog.”

“Yeah, it is,” Brick said. “It’s a hot dog.”

“But that’s not what I asked—hey!” The kid squealed when Brick squirted him with water from the rubber flower on his overall strap.

“Next,” Brick said in a tone that promised medieval torture.

Cowed, the dinosaur kid slumped away with his shitty balloon, and the next little girl in line made her request.

“It had to be a bet,” Butch said grimly as he watched his brother pawn a “magic wand” on the little girl who asked for a monkey. She trudged off with the unfolded purple balloon and look in her eyes like she’d seen the hidden darkness of this world.

Boomer shrugged and swallowed a bite of pizza. He had his back to Brick, but he spared a glance over his shoulder. “I don’t know.”

“I mean, he’s gotta know the pictures will live on forever. This is unlimited blackmail.”

That got a little chuckle out of Boomer. Butch ruffled his bangs too roughly to be entirely affectionate, and Boomer swatted him away. “Dude, my hair.”

“Want me to get you a balloon dick?”

Boomer’s gaze flickered to him, and for a moment Butch was transported back twenty years to Mojo’s Observatory. He and Boomer were sometimes left by themselves while Mojo and Brick tinkered in the old man’s lab well into the night with nothing to do and no one to talk to but each other. On nights like that, Butch didn’t really mind it when Boomer crawled into his bunk and fell asleep there. The room always felt a little colder and darker without Brick there.

“I’m fine,” Boomer said.

Butch searched his eyes, blue and expressive and always shining like he might cry or laugh. He had always envied Boomer that ability to project, to offer a connection, even if it was only pain. He’d always been good at that.

“Really,” Boomer added, hardening his gaze like a fucking mind reader. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” Butch wondered how long it would take for that to be true. “You know, it’s been a couple months—”

“Butch,” Boomer said, cold like he never was.

Butch hopped off the table and put a hand on Boomer’s shoulder. “It’s been a couple months, but it’s not a race. There’s no finish line to cross.”

Boomer chuckled, but it sounded kind of like a wheeze. His hand was cool on Butch’s where he squeezed him. “Thanks, Butch.”

Butch patted his back. As he was leaving, heard Boomer call, “Make mine blue.”

Butch chuckled. “Sure.”

Fucking sap.

At least Butch wasn’t the only one.

He made his way to the terrace, where Brick was set up with balloons and the face painting station. When Brick noticed his brother waiting in line, the balloon he was inflating went up in flames and disintegrated to ashes, leaving him looking as flushed as his stupid clown nose.

“I’m out of balloons, kids. Go dig a hole or something,” he said to the remaining two children.

“Huh? But there’s a whole bag—” one little boy with enormous glasses started to say.

Brick fired his laser eye beams at the bag of balloons and blew it up. “What bag?”

The kids stalked off in a sulk, and Butch sauntered up to the chair Bubbles had brought out from the kitchen table.

“Bitch move,” he said, plopping down. “I promised Boomer I’d bring him a blue cock, made special with love.”

“Uh-huh,” Brick said. He watched Butch with those shifty red eyes like he might lash out and attack him.

Amused and a little nervous, Butch sank into the chair with much bravado and man-spreading. “Paint me like one of your French girls.”

Brick narrowed his eyes, but he picked up the paints and sat down in the opposite chair without a word, until: “What do you want?”

“I dunno, something cool. A rocket ship.”

Silence. Brick leaned in close to apply the paint with a thin brush, meticulous and anal like he was with everything he did. Butch didn’t have to see his face to know he was concentrating way too hard.

“I can feel the vibrations of you clenching your asshole from here,” Butch said. “Relax.”

“I’m relaxed.”

“Fuck off.”

Brick put down the brush. “If you keep talking, this is going to turn out shitty.”

Butch shut up. Brick resumed painting.

After a moment, Butch closed his eyes. There was something soothing about the soft scrape of the brush against his cheek. Behind his eyelids, he saw a much younger version of Brick covered in paint and grinning fiercely, king of the world, until Butch hit him with his paintball gun right in the kisser. Green paint exploded everywhere, and Boomer fell on his ass laughing. Brick angrily wiped the paint from his eyes in a goopy mess and lobbed it back at Butch, who was too far gone to care. Rolling on the grass and covered in paint, he couldn’t remember a happier afternoon spent with his brothers and Mojo. At least, not until Brisa came along.

Butch sucked in a breath as he opened his eyes and dispelled that trance-like memory. Brick didn’t even snap at him when he turned his head to look right at him. His face was pinched: his mouth too thin and his eyes too wide as he waited for another pot shot to the face.

“You look stupid,” Butch said.

“I know,” Brick said.

“Really fucking stupid.”

Brick’s eye twitched. “I know.”

“Thanks.”

Brick swallowed. “It’s her birthday.”

“Yeah, but I’m your brother. So thanks.”

It was not often that Brick was flabbergasted, but the dude looked like someone had just grabbed him by his oversized red nose. Butch burst into a sly smirk and did just that. To his sadistic satisfaction, it squeaked when he squeezed it.

“Honk honk, motherfucker,” Butch said.

It took Brick all of two seconds to ditch his bewilderment and swat Butch’s hand away. “Shit head.”

“Clown.”

To Butch’s immense surprise, Brick let him have the last word. Well, damn. He chuckled and leaned back in the chair so Brick could finish painting his cheek. Two months and he barely saw the guy on purpose, and now this.

“I’m burning every picture Blossom took today,” Brick said at length.

Butch chuckled. “You forgot about the cloud.”

“I’m burning that too.”

“Now you’re just being a whiny bitch.”

“Wipe Bubbles’ phone and I’ll pay you.”

“Eh, maybe just grab a beer sometime.” It came out so naturally that he didn’t even think about it. Brick, too, was taken aback. The more he saw it today, the less Butch liked that surprised look in his older brother’s eyes. It was fucking weird. “Seriously. It’s been a minute.”

Brick didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe. “Yeah, cool.”

“Cool.”

Cool.

“Hold on, almost done,” Brick said, and grabbed Butch’s chin to turn his face.

Butch’s eyes found Brisa running around with a large, green balloon crown on her head and her cheeks painted with rainbows, and his gaze softened. It was almost time for cake.

“Done,” Brick announced.

Before Butch could reply to that, there was a small commotion at the backyard gate with Bubbles, who followed a very short, very hairy monkey inside.

“Grandpa Mojo?” Brisa stopped playing with her friends to greet the old monkey. He had a box with a green bow on top so perfectly wrapped a department store may have done it. His arms were rigid as they held it out and Bubbles hovered just behind him, watchful.

“Good afternoon, Brisa. I have procured you a gift to celebrate, rejoice, and otherwise partake in various forms of merriment on this day of your birth, which is to say, your birthday, thus, the day you were born.”

Nearby, Blossom paused picking up trash with Robin to eye Mojo askance, nonchalant in that low key frightening I-will-blow-your-dick-off way she had. Buttercup was chatting away with Mitch Mitchelson and Clara Clearly, but she too had eyes only for Mojo.

Brisa blushed cutely, suddenly shy. “Thank you.” She accepted the gift and looked between Mojo and Bubbles. “Um, will you stay for cake?”

Mojo’s green skin turned a ghastly shade of pink. It took a Butch a moment to realize he was blushing. He was sure he had never seen Mojo blush before.

Mojo cleared his throat. “I do not eat cake,” he said with finality.

“Oh…” Brisa clutched her new gift to her chest.

“But, I suppose… I could sample a beverage while I am here. A guest ought not turn away hospitality when it is offered.”

Brisa just smiled brightly and reached for Mojo’s crusty old paw. “I have juice. Oh! And you have to stay for the piñata. Have you met Richie? He’s my best friend in the whole world!”

“I do not think—” Mojo lost his words as he was pulled along by his Super granddaughter whether he liked it or not.

“Hey.”

Brick’s hand on Butch’s shoulder exerting Super pressure made him looked down at his hands, which sparked with green power. He clenched his fists and fizzled it out.

“You good?” Brick asked, low and grave.

Butch sniffled. “Yeah, I’m good. Habit.” He paused, then: “I invited him. Boomer said it was fine.”

Brick nodded. “Okay.”

Butch’s stupid heart clenched. “I meant to text you—”

“Blossom told me. It’s fine, drop it.”

He should have dropped it. Two months ago he would have, happily. What the fuck did it matter now when it never had growing up? But that was two months ago. “Don’t fucking do that.”

Brick frosted over and got up. “Do what.”

“Hey.” Butch grabbed him by his ridiculous overalls. “You and me. No girls. Battle and beers, like the old days.”

Brick was a cold hard bastard, but even he had his cracks, and right now he broke like an egg, slack-jawed and lame.

“Tomorrow,” Butch said.

Brick nodded numbly. “Tomorrow.”

Butch smirked and got up to leave, but Brick’s voice stopped him one last time.

“Thanks, Butch.”

“Sure.”

“Tell Boomer it’s a consolation.”

“Huh?”

But he got nothing more out of Brick once Blossom and Princess showed up.

“Oh. My. God. Wait, let’s take a selfie.” Princess managed to get her arm around Brick’s neck, but he snatched her phone before she could take a picture.

“No fucking way, Princess,” he said.

Blossom grabbed his chin and kissed him right there, shameless. It was enough to distract him so Princess could reclaim her phone. “You know, I kind of like you as a clown.”

“I don’t.” Princess managed to snap a picture of Brick and Blossom. “But you’re pulling off the striped overalls, I have to say.”

“Burn that.” Brick advanced, but Blossom pulled him back with a laugh.

“Why so serious, Brick?” she teased.

Princess stuck her tongue out at him.

Butch left them to their childish shit; it was time for cake, and he had a brand new six-year-old to impress.

xxx

Buttercup was having a surprisingly good time. Between pizza with Butch and Boomer, hanging out with her sisters, and the everlasting memories that were clown Brick saved to her iCloud where he would never find them, today was turning out surprisingly well. Butch caught her eye across the yard and gestured inside, so she excused herself from the conversation with Ty and his sister to followed him.

He was in the kitchen when she found him.

“Hey, doll. Cornering me for dirty kitchen sex?” he teased.

Buttercup laughed at the sight of him, two percent bravado and ninety-eight percent imbecile. “Let me grab you a glass of water for that thirst.”

The cake he’d bought sat in a box in the fridge with Brisa’s name scribbled on the lid. Buttercup brought it out and set it on the counter. Then, she hunted for the colorful party platter Bubbles kept for special occasions.

Butch’s arms slipped around her waist from behind, and he pressed his nose to her loose hair. “Mm, you smell like pepperoni.”

“Eat my dick,” Buttercup said.

“I like it.”

“I bet you do, you horny carnivore.”

“Nooo, not the dirty talk,” he whined, pressing a kiss to her neck and pulling her back against him.

Buttercup fought against her growing smile as she opened the cake box and transferred the treat to the platter. “You need rehab.”

“If that’s your kink.”

Buttercup snorted. “Shut up and help me with this.”

They loaded up the chocolate cake on the platter, and Buttercup found the candles in a drawer.

“Got some shit on your nose,” Butch said.

“What?” He dabbed his chocolate frosted finger on the tip of her nose the moment she turned toward him, and she swatted his hand away. “Oh, come on. What are you, five?” She wiped the frosting from her nose and licked her finger clean.

No sooner had she finished than he grabbed her chin and kissed her deeply. In the quiet of the kitchen with no one around to see them, Buttercup gave into feeling and curled her fingers in his flannel shirt. When he smiled against her like the swooning buffoon he’d always been at heart, she laughed and pulled him closer.

His hands found their way over the curve of her ass, as they always did, and pulled her against him with a squeeze. “Fuck, I want you.”

“You always want me.”

“Have you seen your ass? You’d want you too.” He gave her another squeeze, and she had to bite her lip to stifle a moan.

Buttercup slipped her fingers through his hair, full and soft on top and shorn short behind the ears. For a moment, they simply stared at each other as Buttercup marveled at how much she wanted this, wanted him. She had never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him, so badly she could feel it threatening to tear her in two.

“You have all this power,” he murmured, soft like it was a precious secret he clung to.

Buttercup could have laughed at how much he underestimated his own power of her. “Back at you.”

“No.” He touched his forehead to hers and breathed like they finally had time. “Not like you. Not like this.” His hand moved to her waist as if to lead her in a dance. “You have me, Buttercup.”

Buttercup’s eyes burned with a foreign heat, unwelcome. Butch used to scare her when he spoke to her like this; now, she could only bite her lip and wait for the threat of tears to pass. “Back at you,” she said again, shaky and so fucking grateful.

They stayed that way a moment, in the kitchen of her childhood home with the warm smell of chocolate and the low din of the party outside, and for the first time that day, Buttercup felt the tension ease from her shoulders.

“By the way,” Butch said, his eyes still closed and his forehead still pressed against her, “I’m fucking the shit out of you when we get back to my place.”

Buttercup smirked. “Great example you’re setting for your daughter.”

“I got her new headphones with noise canceling.”

“She’s going to notice if we break the tub again.”

“There’s a hose. She can bathe with that.”

“Just pressure wash her like a truck.”

“Fast, efficient, and it’ll save on the water bill.”

“You don’t even pay for water, the landlord does.”

“Hey, I’m a good Samaritan lookin’ out for my neighbors.”

“Screw the neighbors.” Buttercup ran her fingers over his lips, down his chin to his chest, where his heart thundered under her touch. “I want you to fuck the shit out of me.”

Butch laughed hoarsely. “Maybe I should ask Boomer to take Brisa tonight.”

They parted, and Buttercup was about to tell him to grab the cake while she hunted for a knife when she finally noticed his cheek. “Did Brick do that?”

“The rocket ship? Yeah, good excuse to talk to him.”

“A rocket ship, huh?” Buttercup smiled so brightly her cheeks began to hurt. “That was nice of him.”

Butch gave her a weird look. “Whatever, we’re hanging out tomorrow. After today, I figure he can use it.”

Buttercup’s throat wrenched as she tried her best not to burst out laughing. “Don’t quote me, but he sort of saved my ass today. The other clown died.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious, he literally died.”

“Wow, party almost ruined.”

“I mean, also a man is dead.”

“Oh, shit, yeah you’re right. Sorry. I guess don’t tell Brisa.”

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ. Grab that cake and don’t drop it.”

xxx

Brisa grinned to the point of bursting as everyone sang Happy Birthday to her and she blew out her candles. Cake went by in a breeze as the kids screamed about presents next. Like some hot, pink angel, Blossom took charge of the activities with Robin’s and Buttercup’s assistance and made sure the kids were thoroughly entertained so that Butch could eat his cake and watch his little girl enjoy her special day.

Now, seated on the picnic table again with Boomer and Bubbles, he dug into the slice Bubbles said she couldn’t finish.

“Hey, Butch,” Boomer said, chill.

“Yeah?” Butch asked.

“Why’s there a huge dick on your face?”

“Huh?”

On Butch’s other side, Bubbles poked his painted cheek. “It’s a very proportionate dick. Good dimensions.”

Boomer wheezed into his beer. Butch choked on his cake. At the next table over, Brick, that soggy ballsack, stood chatting with Princess Morbucks and Mike Believe still in his full clown regalia sipping sangria through a bendy straw. The moment he felt Butch’s eyes on him, he grinned maliciously around his straw.

“Motherfucker—” Butch tried to get up, but Bubbles grabbed his wrist.

“Language, Butch. There are children around,” she sang, cheerful as a fucking bell.

Butch pointed at Brick. “You—you clown!”

“Hey, that’s Flameo Hotman to you,” said Mike, with all the confidence of someone who didn’t know he was about to be drop-kicked in the face.

Princess squinted at Butch. “Is that a cock on your face?”

“It sure is,” Boomer said, mid-heart attack.

“Daddy, come hit the piñata with me!” Brisa came bounding over with a stick and a blindfold.

“Great timing, Brisa!” Bubbles shoved Butch way too hard toward his overeager daughter, and he had no choice but to accept the stick and blindfold.

“Uh, right,” he stammered, trying to reign it in. It was her birthday; Brick and his dick pic clownery could wait.

A hand on Butch’s shoulder squeezed too hard to be entirely friendly, and he turned to get a face full of said clown.

“Honk honk, motherfucker,” Brick said under his breath.

Butch raised his hand to decapitate his brother right there, but Brisa yanked him with her Super strength, and he had no choice but to let it lie.

The sight of Buttercup nearby watching him take his place at the piñata should have mollified him, but she had let him walk out of that kitchen dick pic’d, a betrayal of the highest order…and a quality prank, if he was honest.

He’d let his guard down around her.

It was his own mistake, underestimating her.

The heat of a challenge in her eyes as she watched him lift the blindfold to his eyes set fire to his blood. After all was said and done today and Butch left Brisa with Brick because fuck his fancy Saturday plans, Butch would take Buttercup’s advice and screw the neighbors. Tonight they were putting on a show.

With a self-satisfied grin, Butch lowered the blindfold, readied the stick, and imagined the red piñata was Brick in his ridiculous clown nose.

xxx

Hm, seeding the future Buttercup and Brick friendship I’ve been waiting so long to dive into for this universe? It’s more likely than you think. 👀

Thank you so much for reading! Long live the clown cult (Blossom ghostwrote this). 🤡

#Powerpuff Girls #ppg fic #Butchercup #PPG Butch #PPG Buttercup #PPG Greens #Butch #Buttercup #Greens #PPG BTM #PPG Clown Cult #Brick suffers so we can go on living

[equalseleventhirds]

as always, fear soup, episode 169 (standard warnings for quoting from the entire episode as i often do)

desolation: i mean CLEARLY

corruption! ‘when your home is compromised, invaded, corrupted’, ‘the stench begins to infect your soul’, ‘an infestation of moths or ants or bedbugs stretches itself throughout the very structure of your home until it feels like your skin is squirming’, ‘living with a hostile, toxic presence’, ‘to cherish every rusted appliance, every crumbling piece of plaster board’, ‘the widening cracks and spreading mold,’ ‘the mildewed room where her parents lie sleeping’, etc etc. lots of corruption, actually, which both gives the victims something to lose, and keeps them trapped in their rotting, flammable homes. arthur nolan talked about the corruptions as the desolation’s enemy, but in this case they work very closely together...

(sidenote whom else was shocked to learn arthur nolan was in there somewhere. i thought that fucker died AGES ago. mag 32 says he died and mag 55 tells us why and how so? what other avatars died a long time ago and are now hanging out in a domain, jonny? who else is out there, jonny???)

buried too, ‘a box in which you pack yourself away’, ‘the cramped and well-trod floors’, ‘these cramped, dingy rooms’, ‘the gain that can be squeezed from them’ (vibes w/ the buried of ‘worms’ too, who were trapped by capitalism)

and web (of course there’s web): ‘how many truly control their home?’, ‘a home you cannot control’, ‘chaining you to the front of a truck whose motion you cannot control’, ‘she is locked there by the sure knowledge that anything she touches could result in the complete loss of what small stability she has’, maybe even ‘she knows exactly what is coming because it’s all happened before’, ‘whatever strange compulsion holds her in place snaps like a wire cable’

a bit of lonely, ‘(a toxic person in your home) turning blessed relief and rest from the tribulations of the world into a choking fog of anxiety and fear’, ‘the whim of those that would let them die in the street’ (v much the idea of being lonely & feeling ostracized even in the company of other ppl, which is not a common theme in tma but is defos the domain of the lonely)

not sure if spiral or stranger (bcos those two are v close) in the line ‘exist only at the behest of faceless names that lace themselves through labyrinthine paperwork’, but it’s defos one of those things. ‘sabina cannot picture their faces’ too i think?

spiral in ‘shrieks and screams that might just be her imagination’ maybe, and i think in ‘memories that she can’t quite place but knows are precious to her’

some hunt, ‘a stalking creature of unmaintained electricals’, ‘do you see it creeping under the door to your bedroom’, ‘not indifferent, but hungry’, ‘the distant roaring, like the soft growl of a lion who never stops approaching’

vast! just a bit on the fire escape itself, ‘the impossible distance below’, ‘surely it can’t be this high’

the ‘slow trickle of a thick, dark, oozing substance’ coming from the tap is reminiscent of the dark’s fuckery with tap water, but also it might just be oil? hm.

aaaaaaaand end as sabina’s parents beg to be saved, as sabina fails to save them, as she fears her own death, as everyone knows landlords would let them die in the street. always end, below every statement.

#tma spoilers #fear soup #i should rly have been tagging these posts with fear soup for a while i'm sorry #welp maybe someday i will go back and tag them for my own evidence of things #in the meantime WOW LOTS OF FEARS HERE #interestingly tho the dark has featured very little in most things... wonder why #also interesting how i don't think there was much eye in this? MAYBE in sabina hearing her parents #but not a ton of feeling observed which.... hm. fascinating. #or at least that's what i got maybe i missed stuff #(maybe there would have been more if the statement hadn't been interrupted... #btw isn't it inch resting how jon can sometimes be interrupted but sometimes not.... which ones have a stronger hold on him?) #the magnus archives

[mousedetective]

Car problems...need some help

So the bad news is the last time my mom was in the van, she said she heard the brakes grinding. Now, we managed to buy some brake fluid from 7-11, and my mom is going to put it into the van tomorrow when the sun is out, but the worst-case scenario is that we need to have work done on the brakes.

I want to make sure we can pay our bills and still cover repairs that may be done (we can’t make it to our normal mechanic who we bought the van from so we’ll have to find a place here in Fallbrook that’s hopefully as cheap), so these are the things we need to cover:

$245 - New storage unit

$208 - Old storage unit

$70 - Utility bill

$150 - Cable/internet bill

$200 - Lyft (in case we don’t get the car fixed in a week so I can take the kidlet back to his adoptive mom on the 5th)

Any help with these bills would be fantastic. I can pay most of them online, so if anyone wants to pay some of these bills directly I can give the login information to people who want to pay them (the cable bill isn’t online yet but that I have to pay with a money order due to cable company fuckery last month).

Also, I need to buy a can opener which is $10 with taxes. So even just getting that would be awesome.

Any help that isn’t paying a bill directly can be sent here (or to [email protected] via PayPal if the link doesn’t work).

#signal boost #mutual aid #donate #urgent #please reblog #please help #please donate

[artificialqueens]

living on the edge of the law - Chapter 2 (Biadore) - lily2

santa monica is crowded and full of traffic but bianca is beginning to feel a bit more place with shea who is doing a wonderful job at showing her around and pretending to not act smitten for her own best friend & katya who is a case in it of itself, bianca’s job has yet to see the first chapter in it’s story.

Blog

— *.✧ “See you! We will go and catch up end of the week, have a great break and please sleep.” Jinkx screamed from the window, honking at her friend, trying to cause as much ruckus as possible for the poor girl, laughing loudly as Bianca snickered, used to anything with Jinkx, her antics definitely wouldn’t scare I’d Bianca, her hands waving her off and knocking on her car’s window glass and sending her off with a small air kiss, catching herself and her three suitcases, dragging them before quietly realizing she was the third floor.  “If there isn’t a damn elevator I will absolutely piss myself.” Muttering under her breath before praising to god himself that there was indeed an elevator right in front of her face, she worringly clicked all the buttons until a vacant door opened, she stepped in the middle as she threw her luggage into the elevator with her, squatting right on top of her carry-on, texting Jinkx as she waited impatient to reach the floor: Gotta say, it was pretty damn fucking good, missed you asshat. See you Friday, pick a good bar! Sending the message, her eyes blinked heavily, she felt battered and bruised and was close to her first bed and would collapse on top of it, Jinkx was extremely quick to mention that Bianca had no food and made sure they stopped by a local store and got her some food for atleast the night up until lunch time, usually she would be appreciative that a friend cared so dearly for her sanity and health however, it was an extra two hours of stopping, traffic, stop lights: Bianca was about to murder every driver who lived in the county of Los Angeles. Brisbane was almost decent compared to this shit and she already got into her old habits, honking Jinkx’s horn so long and loud that other cars around them would sync in time for them, more as a complaint but Bianca decided to take it as a good thing, like a welcome present wrapped with a cute little bow,

Welcome to Santa Monica! Fumbling with her key’s she opened up the door and tossed the grocery bag full flight into the first counter she saw. Turning on the light she finally begun to take in the actual scope of the place. The fact of the matter is was that it was smaller than her last living space but in Los Angeles county? This size probably meant a hefty price tag though Courtney mentioned it was only about 2,000 USD montly, very decent something definitely bigger than what Bianca expected for sure, which in turn made her only twice as angry at her Australian best friend who must’ve pulled some money or special strings to get the price lowered, there was no way the original cost was 2,000 USD, that’s what most people spend on groceries in three weeks here.  “Courtney I’m gonna murder you—” a hushed tone from her lips as she threw her suitcases next to the lavish and fully furnished living room area, complete with a large window which Bianca was quick to close, only wanting to find the damn bed.  Taking only her phone, charger and water she dizzily threw herself into the first bed she saw, as long as it had covers and pillows, she didn’t care where she slept or when, she truthfully wasn’t paying much attention to the time, not wanting to drag herself on about timezones though Jinkx helped her change it to their local one so Bianca’s own phone would stop showing the Brisbane local area time. “Good night.” She said aloud to herself and herself only, yanking her trainers and jacket off before letting herself hit and black out onto the bed, hoping she wouldn’t wake up for a long while— hell just make her wake up Monday and she can start looking like a piece of lagged shit! *.✧ Awaking in the middle of the daytime she felt as if her eyes were blood red and she had just risen from the dead, she noticed a few notifications on her phone though most would probably be from Courtney and possibly Shea who promised to introduce her to the area whenever she woke up and was feeling ready enough to go on out in public. “I might feel like shit but atleast I don’t look like shit!” She yelled to her phone’s camera before checking the time and realizing it was almost 3PM, she stretched her arms before standing up and beginning to sort through her clothing that was all nice, folded and ready to go thanks to Courtney who was far less wasted when they decided ever so smartly to down wine and vodka while packing for the departure. Eyes wondering towards her phone before finally taking enough of the bright screen and opening it with her fingerprint so she could finally text back Courtney, glancing at the text and smiling as she read it aloud to herself. Of course you will, I’ll kill you if you don’t! ;) How is the studio my love? It’s fully furnished I’m hoping and all the little knotches should be all good! Morning from Brisbane! Her fingers begun to swipe before she pressed send to a small message back reading: Good morning asshole, hope it’s burning hot as usual, there’s actually wind here and it shakens me. This apartment is so fucking gorgeous I’m about to stab you, it’s about 2PM but the lag got to me as always!  Shea’s message was much more formal which signaled either Bianca was too old that Shea would think she didn’t understand regular lingo or she was new and didn’t want to be attacked for poor grammar, both of which didn’t sound too great in Bianca’s head.  Bianca! I hope you are not too jet lagged, just call me if you want me to show you around, you can meet Katya to, we were thinking of going to the pier since it’s just about the most basic thing you can possibly do! Please join us :) !!! xx Sauntering over the message she slowly pressed send to a quick: Yes, I’ll come, I don’t have a car but I can send you my address if that’s all right with you. Dropping her phone on the bed so it could stay in the charging cable she begun to organize all the things she possibly could given that Shea would probably come and get her in about thirty minutes judging by how fast she responded to things, it wasn’t an awful quality, she probably needed to explore a bit more considering she would probably just sleep if she didn’t.  Just as expected, once Bianca came from her closet and felt a little more freshed once putting on a new layer of makeup and changing clothes, a text from Shea appeared.  Great, I will take you in about half an hour, is that okay with you? Just send your address. Reading it aloud Bianca whined, even though gaining a better understanding of her new work and city would definitely be beneficial she really, really wasn’t a fun of sweating and laughing as if the heat wasn’t about as hot and dry as the fucking third layer of Dante’s Inferno. Sure. That was all she wrote before throwing her phone away from her and grabbing sneakers not exactly knowing the emviorment and area around, they were close to a beach and going to board walk so heels most likely weren’t the most intelligent option. She debated taking her phone but decided to so she could prove to Courtney she wasn’t just gonna be in a fucking cocoon and she was indeed going to try and make friends! 

*.✧ A honk and then two came from the driveway right outside and Bianca had to wince, dropping her bag before sighing, “I’m coming!” She shrieked before the window of the red Mini Cooper rolled down laughing, a blonde driving and another in shotgun who she recognized as Shea, “I’m so sorry Bianca!” She yelled before getting out of the car and making sure Bianca could fit into the back before Shea collapsed into the front and turned so her face was facing Bianca, reaching over and hugging her best she could, she was definitely the affectionate type.  The blonde driving licked her lips and extended her hand, “I am Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova but you can just call me Katya.” She smiled ear to ear before flipping her thick hair back which only slightly smacked her face, “Great, I’m sure I’ll remember all that.” Katya laughed wholeheartedly, “I’m just joking, no wonder you’re working for us, everyone at this company is also a hardass.” Bianca had to snicker a bit, rolling her eyes and relaxing into the back seat as Katya pulled out, “So you’re from Australia right, no accent?“  “I was born in Louisiana, I moved to Australia basically seven years ago and became personal assistant and a head of department for a record label in Brisbane.” They both nodded and smiled, seemingly genuinely intrigued by her story which made the American a bit surprised especially since they also worked in the field. “You were Courtney Act’s assistant right?” Shea gasped, Katya almost slamming the breaks and yelling, “No way!“  She raised her hands and calmed them, "Whoa now bitch, keep driving, I don’t need to die my second day back— but yes, she is my best friend, she’s very pretty, not sure about her singing.” She joked to Shea’s laughter and Katya’s warm grin, “I would abuse the fuck out of you right now and play her music but I won’t."  "So what about you and your long ass name, you don’t seem American, bold of you to assume I wasn’t.” Bianca turned on Katya as the blonde girl tilted her head and smacked Bianca behind her, already warming up as they stopped at the stop light, she turned for a quick second checking behind her before turning her attention to the wheel, “Well I wasn’t, I’m originally from Russia, Krasnoyarsk. Forests and all that fuckery, moved before high school, just couldn’t take it anymore, Eastern Europe isn’t too wonderful for being anything but straight.” She admitted quietly before Shea rubbed her shoulder and nodded, “My best friend, she picked me up yesterday, she’s half Ukranian, she said the same but said it’s lovely to visit.” Katya seemed genuinely intruiged, “Oh really? It’s lovely really, I still speak Russian but I revoked my citizenship, you aren’t allowed to be a dual citizen so I just picked what I thought would be more useful and worth it and here I am, an American citizen after god knows how many years.” She said tracing the fine line between her age and leaving out any details of why exactly she came which Bianca could respect as someone with immigrant parents, it’s just something not really told to someone they just started working with. “To the pier we go!” Shea clapped happily, wanting to pry away at another subject that was a bit more happy and freeing though questions about Bianca’s job kept coming up around her. “Do you know yet who you’re gonna work with? Like who you’re assisting I mean!” Shea corrected quickly, a bit intrusive even. “Curiousity killed the cat, it also might kill the bitch in this car.” Bianca yelled before slapping Shea’s shoulder who also laughed along best she could, Katya giving an amused smile. “Truthfully I just found out, she’s apperantly an up and coming singer, Adore Delano."  The minute the name came from her lips, Katya almost hauled the car on the break again, though it was also a red light to be completely fair to the Russian girl. "Do that again and see what fucking happens!” Bianca yelled as she was almost flipped to the other side of the car on such a screech, “Like Adore Delano?” Katya repeated, beyond unable to comprehend herself at the stop light, “I don’t even wanna say how many of her songs I have on my Spotify playlist.” Embarrassingly jealous that the women who just came to work had possibly one of her personal favorite artists assigned.  “I didn’t have much time to look or read about her, apparently she must be young.” The inference earning a nod from Shea who turned to her again, turning the air conditioning up in the meanwhile, “Not extremely young, I know she’s about five or six months younger than me, I know because of Katya over here who might have an absolute fit."  "So what she’s a singer?"  "A very good singer—” Katya begun before putting a finger up and beaming, “She has her own specific style but most would say she does her own thing, she does some pop but mainly it sticks within grundge, alternative, rock, you know that sort of thing.” Bianca was intrigued but definitely worried, that screamed in her mind attitude problems and family issues. Not trying to sterotype however Bianca nodded pleasantly, tapping the seat of the car. “Well then Monday should be very fun.” *.✧ Monday did indeed come and it only just dawned Bianca the night before that she didn’t have a car, a bit of an inconvenience considering she lived in a city that pretty much just roads though Shea of course backed her up with a ride until she could go to the dealership after work, “We’re friends now, I’m just being a good friend.” She claimed, Bianca wanted to throw up knowing there were truly that compassionate and kind in this damn world.  Sleeping had been the worst part so far, she would begin to drift in the middle of the day, fall dead asleep and then wake up in the middle of the night and then just watch whatever sitcom was on television until sunrise came and she was considered a normal time to be awake and functioning. Luckily she managed to knock herself out at the right time which made her wake up at exactly 8AM, when she needed to.  Showering, make up, clothes and paperwork done, about thirty minutes later came the notification from Shea that she was outside, she quickly slipped on whatever heels she found and huffed, locking her door and going down the stairs before quickly texting Courtney back a reply, saying it was her first day and that she would call her with all the news later.  “Well hello! Good morning to you.” Shea laughed seeing her dressed so proper and fancy though Bianca always dressed like this, you had to have the entire fantasy and be prim and proper all the time, not just for yourself or your job: “Well it’s a lifestyle choice.” She replied as she put on the seatbelt and let her things drop gently near her feet, Shea seemed very into leather. Which wasn’t necessary a bad thing, not like Bianca was going to call PETA but she could tell she had more of an edgy style which was completely ironic considering her personality thus far.  “Starbucks?” She asked before Bianca groaned in happiness, “Please. I’ll pay you back when we actually get out the car.” She swore before Shea waved her off, turning at the light, “Oh please, save it.” She seemed very strict and prideful on not taking the money which normally Bianca would admire but now she was starting to loathe, she was too damn nice. “Oh you bitch, take the 5$, you’re driving me and getting me coffee."  Persistence was broken and Shea grumbled, accepting the cash and stuffing it somewhere in that wallet of her’s before finding herself in the drive-thru of Starbucks which Bianca noted heavily was just right by her own apartments block. The employees voice came over on the window and Shea smiled happily, her makeup absolutely glowing. "Hi! I’m great, how are you?"  "What do you want?” Shea whispered as the employee replied casually, “Great! So I can get a venti shaken White Iced Tea, sweetened please as well as a tall Skinny Latte, extra foam and I’ll just have a grande, no ice, Caramel Macchiato? Thank you!” She called out before driving next to the window, Bianca curious: “So you like tea and coffee?"  "Oh no, the iced tea is for someone else.” Shea insisted, a small red flush forming across her cheeks as she waved her arm, keeping the other on the steering wheel. Happy that the drinks were ready after only about two minutes, paying and driving off, Bianca letting the drink rest in one of the drinkholders before she grinned, definitely catching onto Shea’s plot. “So who’s the lucky lady?"  "Oh god.” She chuckled, closing her eyes before pulling out of park and beginning to drive across the highway sighing and returning Bianca’s ever so patient glance. “I’m not a fool you know, this dog knows some tricks."  "She just got out of her relationship with her boyfriend, we’ve been best friends for years, I could never.” Shea remarked bitterly before Bianca wanted to gag, “Oh so what you’re telling me is she loves your delusional ass and is single and you’re just scared?” Both of them defensively jumped and laughed, Shea trying to focus on the road and screaming from the pressure teasingly, “Her name is Sasha! Sasha, she’s from Russia—"  "I’m starting to realize why you like Katya.” That earned her a beating from Shea which she probably deserved but Bianca’s point was made visibly seeing Shea visibly melt, groaning. “She’s perfect what can I really say."  "Well If you don’t take her I will.” Another joke that left Shea with her jaw dropped before Bianca cackled, hitting her shoulder, “I’m joking you bitch, I would never but if you don’t talk to her I’ll explode, is this common knowledge?” “Everyone in the department knows expect Sasha.” Jesus Christ. “Well we will definitely fix all of that soon enough, I have to be there to witness it.” She promised before taking a small slip of the latte, growing more and more custom to the roads and how damn slow everything was, might as well just skip work all together.  *.✧ “Welcome to the studio!” Shea yelled from the parking lot before spotting someone and waving, “Aja come here!” She screamed, the other girl rolling her eyes and prancing on over forcefully so. Bianca grabbing her things before making direct eye contact, “Aja! This is Bianca, she’s working with us now, she just transfered from Brisbane."  "Work.” She whispered before holding out her hand politely, her and Bianca seemed to be sisters when it came to their color choices, the brighter the better. “I’m Aja, you’ll probably see me around but it’s nice to meet you, I know you were Courtney’s assistant."  Jesus if that’s all I’m gonna be known for this entire job.  "Yes I was, I see you are one for color.” She noted before Aja shrugged, “I guess you could say that, the adjustment will seem awful at first maybe but I promise after a week you start pulling through with no issues, especially since you have so much experience."  Acting as if she gave a shit Bianca nodded, walking towards the building and making sure to have her ID ready and handy as Shea warned, both of them having clips to attach to their dresses/jackets, Bianca noted this as well while taking in the scenery, it was a typical studio: lavish on the inside, marble floors, large lights, ceilings so high you had to practically bend over to take it all in. It wasn’t to Bianca after about six years of it in Brisbane but this one definitely looked more polished and by that she meant: clean but no personality, nothing interesting to it.  "We are the second floor.” Shea noted before pulling for an elevator and smiling seeing one open, two men coming out before the three entered, Aja playing on her phone’s screen before the door closed, Shea still holding her and Sasha’s drink. “Oh of course you got your girlfriend a drink.” A scoff from Aja who was kicked in the knee with Shea’s leg. Bianca grinning, “See, exactly what I said in the car, I’ve known this bitch for all of one day and she already is getting on my nerves with this situation."  She clapped laughing, putting her phone away before she exited first, turning left and waving before Shea and Bianca walked to their floor, the older woman a bit done already, just let her hop on the flight already back home: she hadn’t even met Adore Delano yet but didn’t need to judging by her research last night.  "I’ll show you to your desk, I just need to give this to Sasha real quick."  "Of course you do."  In no rush they eventually swirled into a office, Bianca noticing the girl at the desk immediately perk up in happiness, standing and hugging Shea, she assumed this was Sasha. She was just a bit taller than Shea, very thick and very blonde hair, glistening eyes. Shea revealed her drink and the Russian girl scoffed, immediately hugging her best friend and happily putting it down, "You didn’t have to, really."  "I did.” Shea coughed before introducing Bianca, Sasha quickly setting her drink down and shaking hands politely and welcoming her to the office. “I saw you were coming over from Australia, I hope you like your office here, it gets better after the first week I swear."  "Well I sure hope so.” She joked before Sasha smiled, “Have a good first day!” She yelled before sitting down again in her chair, spinning around and taking a sip of the tea, waving at Shea who only blew her a kiss and waved back.  “She seems nice enough, I’m beginning to piece you and your love life together. She seems a bit—"  "Quiet? Introverted? I know, she’s not shy or anything, she just prefers her space and I respect that.” Bianca had to admire that, she was loud as she was obnxious and extroverted, she hadn’t much experience with dealing with those kinds of people though she was sure everyone wanted space at some point in the week but she could see the disparity between Shea and Sasha’s personality. It could work. “Well, They always said opposites attract." 

#rpdr fanfiction #bianca del rio #adore delano #courtney act #jinkx monsoon #aja #shea coulee #katya zamolodchikova #sasha velour #biadore #sashea #lesbian au #roza #living on the edge of the law #concrit welcome #submission

[dexer-von-dexer]

So the FCC has announced a plan to repeal Net Neutrality rules, despite the vast majority of US citizens being strongly against that.

Almost certainly, this is going to pass. Net Neutrality, at least federally-enforced Net Neutrality, is basically dead, and there's nothing we can really do about that now. Calling Congress won't help, and never really could, since everything will be decided solely by the FCC's five commission members, one of whom is Pai himself, and two others who are similarly dead-set on corporate fuckery as a platonic ideal. That means this plan will probably pass 3-2 no matter what.

So what now? How do we live in a post Net Neutrality world?

Pai's plan would put internet communications under the control of the FTC and not the FCC. The FTC would not have the authority to enforce Net Neutrality in any capacity. However, they do have the authority to enforce that corporations are transparent about their practices. Plainly put, corporations will be forced to deliver what they advertise. They can package the internet, offer paid prioritization, and the like, but they will have to say so.

This means that if a service provider offers a neutral internet, they will have to deliver. And almost certainly, many if not most service providers will have to, or face backlash. Some will try to deneutralize the internet, sure, but they will be stepping into outrage hell. Democracy must now be waged on the corporate level, and not governmental. This means complaints to ISPs, calling out bad practices, making a ruckus and creating backlash when ISPs begin enacting anti-consumer practices.

Unfortunately, this will be incredibly difficult. Telecom is currently an oligopoly, which means that there are few if any competitive options available for most consumers, and the FCC has made it actively difficult for startups to compete. It will now be of utmost importance to see what internet options are available, and whether they offer neutral access to the internet. Even if you only have one or two big ISPs available in your area, small internet startups appear and fizzle out all the time, so keep an eye out. They typically fail because, being small companies, they lack the access to the infrastructure that big cable companies already have access to, and therefore can't supply internet service at competitive speeds. However, corporate-scale net neutrality will become a second point of competition besides speed. If a small company offers slower speeds but neutral access, they should be supported. Eventually, if big telecom companies see they're losing consumers to smaller, neutral providers, they will change their practices too, and everyone benefits, even the people without options. And with any luck, they'll learn that lesson sooner rather than later. (this process will be accelerated if bigger companies offer neutral access from the get-go, instead of having to rely solely on the whims and fortune of Small Business(tm))

All this is full of maybes and ifs, and may not work, and may take a long time, and federally-enforced Net Neutrality is definitely preferable, but all is not lost. There will almost definitely be a lot of nasty greedy bullshit that will affect a lot of people, but the fight isn't over.

#i post #copied from a comment i made on another post that got too long #so i decided to make it its own post #current events #news #us politics #politics #net neutrality #fcc #capitalism #corporate fuckery #adventures in late capitalism

[mostlysignssomeportents]

#5yrsago It's not Net Neutrality that's at stake, it's Cable Company Fuckery

John Oliver was incandescent on the subject of Net Neutrality, Time Warner and Comcast on Saturday, and he has a new, less-boring term for Net Neutrality: "Cable Company Fuckery." This is not only brilliant, it's hilarious. John Oliver is a perfect blend of Jon Stewart and Charlie Brooker. A reminder: you can reach out and touch the FCC on the subject of Cable Company Fuckery, and EFF can explain how to do it.

https://boingboing.net/2014/06/02/its-not-net-neutrality-that.html

[plipplopblipblop-blog]

Go and support Net Neutrality

Hey you, yes you reading this, in case you've been seeing all this stuff about the FCC lately and going "man, that seems like a lot of work to go ahead and tell them to stop Cable Company Fuckery" look no further. Go to gofccyourself.com it will lead directly to the page where all you've gotta do is type in that comment. And in case you're wondering "well it seems legal and fine, why should I care" it's actually not legal and fine for hundreds of reasons, but I'll stick with two for the sake of your time. Under Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights it is stated that we all have freedom to information and to share that information by any media, reclassifying ISP's under Article two of the telecommunications act of 1934 would be a blatant violation of this as it prevents them from being regulated. If that's not enough take a look at article 21 sub-article 3 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights which states in the very first line "The will of the people shall be the basis of the authority of government" and well, the masses of America have spoken my good friend, and we don't want this to happen, not one bit. So why does the FCC continue and even more peculiar, why does Ajit Pai, current Chairman of the FCC even go as far as to state that "no comment will change my mind on this." Pretty odd, isn't it.

#ajit pai #fcc #UN #USA #Universal Declaration of Human Rights #Net Neutrality #gofccyourself

[stevensaus]

Blockbuster Gizmodo investigation reveals probable masterminds of the massive anti-Net Neutrality identity theft/astroturf campaign http://bit.ly/2Vnk5Br http://bit.ly/2Vnk5Br

#post #astroturf #cable company fuckery #cfic

[airbnbfestivals]

Am I being a total Karen?

TLDR; Airbnb didn’t have advertised WiFi and while I originally asked for a coworking reimbursement, then a 50% refund, now I want 100%.

Knowing what it’s like to deal with customers and clients, I’ve never really complained about service or a bad product. So they few times I do complain, I feel horrible about it, and never really know if I’m doing the right thing by complaining.

So my boyfriend and I are relocating to Puerto Rico and booked an Airbnb for the month, making sure it had WiFi, to find the right neighborhood, find an apartment, looking for spaces to move our businesses and so on. Of course because we both work for ourselves, we would also be needing the internet to work and communicate with clients. (I’ve accidentally booked Airbnb’s without WiFi, outside of the country where my cell data doesn’t work - like a dumb dumb)

When we arrive at the Airbnb, we were given the login and password to the WiFi. And we see there’s a network so I’m thinking “WOO HOO!! I didn’t screw this up again!!”

As we tried and failed over two days to connect to the WiFi, we contact the host who has us go through the whole unplugging and resetting the router, trying different devices and eventually stops responding to us. We do some investigating and follow the cable line from the router to the wall, only to see the line has been cut, painted over (clearly several months ago), and shoved into a shallow hole in the wall. The router connects to nothing.

At this point we suspect our host has known about the WiFi issue, but has banked on people being on vacation and not saying anything. But we’re not really on vacation and we’re now a week into our stay, having to reschedule video conferences and me just having to bail out on recording my weekly podcast (it streams over FB/IG live, Snapchat, you get it). But I definitely don’t want to accuse him of something or even get a bad guest review, so I decide not to call them and just work it out with the host.

We send him a pic of the cut line and ask him to just send the internet company out to install service. Miraculously, the same day we reach out to him was the day the ISP was coming out to install service. We just had to be there from 12-5. GREAT!! We’re Gucci then.

We wait around and, not much to our surprise, no one comes. We reach out to the host and tell him and he says he’ll call them and let us know. A few days go by and we’ve heard nothing so we reach out again. Miraculously again, the same day we reach out to him is the same day the ISP is coming to install service!!

We tell him the key is in the lockbox and that we’re not waiting around in a spot with no WiFi for hours. We arrive back late at night and again there was no install service. We’re now 2 weeks into our stay. We’ve worn out our welcome at the local Starbucks, which pisses us off as local coffee is amazing here in PR and we want to be supporting the small businesses like ourselves, but since WiFi at coffee shops isn’t really a thing here yet, Starbucks is our only option.

But at this point I’m wondering if I’m just being a first world asshole and making a big deal about not having WiFi. So still assuming the best of the host, I reach out and let him know that once again internet has not been installed. He apologizes and rants about ISP being unreliable. I ask if maybe I look into coworking spaces, he could reimburse me for that cost and he agrees.

So I look into coworking spaces, and while they’re GORGEOUS here, they’re incredibly expensive and only operate 9-5, and most of my client contacts and my podcast happens after 7pm. I also didn’t exactly trust the host would reimburse me at this point with all the fuckery that’s gone on. Compound all that with the fact that I was totally short sighted in even suggesting the coworking space, as our Airbnb spot was for 5, and we had friends on the reservation that also needed WiFi.

So at now 17 days into a 28 day stay, I reach out to the host again and let him know the coworking option just isn’t going to work and tell him, getting a little snippy at this point, since I was the one that was having to come up with solutions to a problem I didn’t create and isn’t my responsibility, I just wanted a 50% refund. We paid over $2k for this Airbnb but were able to find an apartment we loved, and signed a lease for $700/mo WITH WATER AND ELECTRIC that was bigger, more secure, with off street parking, and in a cooler area. We paid WELL over market value for that Airbnb and felt totally swindled.

Well the host lost his shit and said we had an agreement for him to reimburse me for the coworking space and that a 50% refund was way too aggressive. I told him that may be the case, but the coworking option is off the table, the 50% offer still stands and if he doesn’t like it he can counter and come up with something because I’m sick of doing his job for him.

No reply for 2 days. I NEVER do this, but I called Airbnb. Tell them the situation and they tell me they’re gonna contact the host and get back to me. They call me later that night and tell me they’re going to move us to a new Airbnb but at this point it’s 9pm and we’ll look at new ones tomorrow. I thought he was leading me to believe they were going to cover the new Airbnb because he said they will take care of booking a new Airbnb, but that may have just been hopeful thinking on my part.

We are now at day 20 of a 28 day stay. We’re about 30mins away out to breakfast and get a call from Airbnb that they’ve worked out the refund. They’re basically going to reimburse us for the days left on the reservation, plus $200. BUT THEY PHRASE IT that they’re giving us a credit for the days we spent without internet. On top of that, we have to reserve our own new Airbnb and pay for it. Last minute, the only ones that are available are high end luxury units completely out of our price range.

Before we can blink, our dude at Airbnb has cancelled our current reservation, so now we have no choice but to book a new more expensive one. AND it’s after check out time so we rush back, pack up our shit and our dog and move to the new spot. We tell them we’re not happy with the refund and they tell us that because they already processed it, basically what’s done is done. The Airbnb host still gets to keep all the money from our stay, and actually STILL has the place listed as having WiFi!!!

My SO is now going through a charge back with his CC company to recoup a 100% refund after reading some consumer rights thing that says we’re entitled to exactly what we purchased or a 100% refund.

I feel like such a brat.

AITA For making a big deal out of not having internet? AITA for offering the coworking reimbursement and taking it back? AITA for getting snippy with the host? AWTA for pursuing a 100% refund after just wanting 50%?

I still haven’t left a review since I’m scared of saying anything bad.

Original post here =+-+= Get $20 off your first AirBnB stay.

#Am I being a total Karen? #vacation #family #place to stay #airbnb #hotel #holiday #gratitude

[saywhatjessie]

‘Cause Baby I’m a Slytherin and Boy you are a Gryffindor

I'm trying to write something else but have no motivation so I decided to write this as a warm up and it got way longer than expected go fuckin' figure. (Ao3) 2.8k

Adam made sure not to let Ronan catch him smiling as he made his way into the kitchen. He couldn’t let Ronan see him looking as Ronan’s face went a little pink in the cheeks, his eyes tightening and his lip pulled between his teeth.

“Morning.” He bent to kiss Ronan behind the ear, allowing himself a tiny grin as he noted the angry blush on Ronan’s neck. “Has Opal eaten?”

Ronan cleared his throat, avoiding Adam’s eyes. “Yeah, little shit is already outside, terrorizing the chickens.” His spoon clanged loudly on the side of his bowl in a way that was more to make noise than actually scoop cereal from milk to mouth. “You want eggs or something?”

“No, I’ll just have some orange juice.”

Ronan rolled his eyes, providing a break from his previous silent annoyance now to be vocally annoyed at Adam’s eating habits. “You need actual food, Parrish.”

Adam rolled his eyes back, letting himself smirk for real. “I will get food later, Lynch. It’s too early to put anything else in my stomach, so soon after waking up.”

Ronan snorted. “Well maybe if you didn’t sleep in to fuck all hours.”

Adam just shook his head. He’d asked Ronan for days after he’d started staying at the Barns to wake him up when Ronan got up. Ronan never did it. He wanted to let Adam sleep whenever he could.

“Jackass.” He said fondly. Ronan winked and took a bite of his cereal.

Adam smiled and poured himself a glass of orange juice, wiping the condensation from the carton on the red and gold fabric of his pajama pant legs. Ronan chewed on his lip again, averting his eyes. Adam grinned for real.

 Ronan really really liked to see Adam in his clothes. Part of it was possessiveness and part of it was being the one to keep Adam warm (neither of which he’d ever admit to) but mostly, Adam knew, it was the concession.

Adam did not like to be taken care of. He did not like wearing or using or having something that wasn’t his – that he hadn’t bought or earned. By Adam wearing Ronan’s clothes, he was letting a little of that go. Something Ronan loved to see.

So Ronan loved when Adam wore his things. Except if those things were Gryffindor themed.

Adam hadn’t really grown up with Harry Potter the same way Ronan had – he couldn’t afford to buy the books as soon as they came out, he never saw the movies in theaters. His father wouldn’t even let him watch cable so he never caught a Harry Potter weekend on ABC Family. He was aware of it in the same way most people were aware of Harry Potter because it was the most popular book series on earth but he’d never given it much thought growing up. Didn’t have the time.

Ronan, on the other hand, names a literal cow after Harry Potter. So he was a fan.

Ronan introducing Adam to Harry Potter was endearing for several reasons. One, Ronan tried not to express too much enthusiasm. It was obvious to Adam how much Ronan cared about Harry Potter because of everything he’d ever learned about Ronan, but Ronan still tried desperately to keep cool and not get too excited when talking about it. The multiple times he’d woken up from dreaming holding a golden snitch or chocolate frog that actually hopped gave him away a bit.

Secondly, Opal, who had no hang-ups about looking too enthusiastic, loved Harry Potter. She must have known everything already, being an extension of Ronan, but she let Ronan teach her about everything as if it were the first time she were hearing it. And she was very excited about it.

Opal insisted they all get officially sorted on Pottermore.com. She and Ronan were in the same house which didn’t surprise Adam at all. Ronan had gone through his life proclaiming himself a Gryffindor and Pottermore agreed. Adam pretended to be surprised by this.

“Brave? Noble? Chivalrous? I thought you didn’t lie Lynch.”

Adam was Slytherin, which he quite liked the sound of.

“Cunning? Ambitious? Sounds about right.”

“Except I’m the snake, remember?”

Adam cuffed Ronan on the head. “Hush now, lion cub, the grown-up is talking.”

Blue and Gansey loved this. On their travels, they went out of their way to send back presents that related to Ronan and Adam’s Hogwarts houses. Ronan and Opal received hats and sweaters of crimson and gold with lions on them. Adam amassed a collection of smaller green and silver snake-adorned things like tie-pins and cufflinks.

Ronan obviously had more merchandise, having been collecting it for years, but Adam’s modest pile of Slytherin things was not to be ignored.

But ignore it he did.

Because wearing Ronan’s Gryffindor things when Adam was not a Gryffindor?

Made Ronan furious.

 The five of them were at Nino’s over fall break of Adam’s freshman year at Princeton. Blue and Gansey had needed to be back in Virginia to be with their families for Thanksgiving so they’d all taken the opportunity to catch up. Henry’s family, being Korean and also Canadian, didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving, so he would be staying with Blue at Fox Way with the psychics.

“Now that I think about it, I wouldn’t think the witches would be into eating a slaughtered animal to commemorate the genocide of an entire people.” Ronan noted, casually.

Blue narrowed her eyes at him, throwing a balled up straw wrapper at his head. “We’re not. A couple of my half-aunts are Powhatan and they like to take the day and make it about actual sharing of cultures by making us a feast of their people.”

Gansey grinned. “Oh, Jane, that sounds fascinating! I wish I could come.”

“But you’ll be too busy celebrating your ancestors coming in to rape and pillage the Powhatan people with your own family, won’t you Dick?” Ronan asked, mouth like a pit viper.

Gansey looked crestfallen and Blue threw something else at Ronan and Adam squeezed Ronan’s hand in warning. Ronan shrugged apologetically. “I’m just saying.”

“I’ll have robobee email you a play-by-play, princelet.” Henry said, patting Gansey’s hand jovially. “I feel I will be too overwhelmed at the time to take notes myself. So many ladies a Cheng has never dealt with at a time.”

“Oh man, the psychics are gonna eat you alive.” Ronan was back to grinning. “I wish I could see that.”

Adam rolled his eyes and unzipped his hoodie, now too warm in the restaurant after the chill from outside.

“What the fuck, Parrish?”

Adam blinked, thrown off by the familiar words coming from Blue and not Ronan. “What?”

She gestured to his torso. “You told us you were a Slytherin.”

Adam looked down, having forgotten when he unzipped his hoodie what shirt he had put on that morning. A red and gold lion stared up at him.

“Oh, yeah, I am.”

Henry’s grin was feral. “So that would make that Ronan’s shirt.”

Adam’s grin matched Henry’s as his eyes slid over to see Ronan’s face painted red.

Blue cackled. “Oh my God, look at that blush. He’s all hot and bothered seeing his boyfriend wearing his clothes.”

“Jane.” Gansey scolded, he too going pink, but a smile flirting with the edge of his mouth.

Adam bit his lip, refusing to laugh. Ronan was bothered alright, just not in the way Blue meant.

Adam knew this. But he still batted his eyes at Ronan, reaching over to put a hand on his chest. “Did I get you all revved up, baby?”

Henry and Blue broke into fresh peals of laughter as Ronan tore his way out of the booth. “Fuck off, Parrish.”

Adam laughed, watching Ronan slump his way out of Nino’s. He’d come back when he was done being embarrassed.

When Adam turned back, Gansey was eyeing him reproachfully. “That wasn’t kind, Adam.”

Adam just shrugged. Gansey didn’t need to Ronan was blushing because was annoyed, not aroused. Gansey didn’t need to know Adam was wearing Ronan’s Gryffindor clothes on purpose. Gansey didn’t need to know any of their business.

“Don’t worry about it Gansey. I’ve got it under control.”

Gansey still looked reproachful and Blue Heny made whipping sounds and Blue waggled her eyebrows but by the time Ronan came back inside, the subject had passed, Adam’s hoodie was zipped back up, and everything was back to normal.

 It would never make sense to Adam how Ronan could hate his phone so much but have no problem using his laptop for skype.

“I’m not expected to carry this fuckin thing around with me all day.” Ronan had tried to explain, once. “Nobody expects me to answer anything on this right away. I can take time away from this and no one gets pissed about it. But if Declan calls me on this fucker,” he held up his much abused phone as evidence. “and I don’t answer, suddenly I’m the asshole.”

“Well, not suddenly.” Adam smirked. Ronan flipped him off.

Adam had taken advantage of this weird loophole in Ronan’s aversion to technology by skyping him at least four times a week while off at school. His scholarship had included a student laptop which had webcam and skype capabilities so Adam could contact Ronan whenever he wanted and not rely on anyone to do it. It was the best case scenario as far as he was concerned.

He had called Ronan on Skype one evening, mostly because he missed him, but also to keep the nerves at bay about the oncoming networking dinner he had been invited to attend.

It was just a thing for Freshman: a way for Engineering companies to look at the best and brightest new students and try and start laying groundwork early in hopes that they’d come work for their firm after graduating. Not every incoming freshman was invited to the fancy dinner but Adam was. A revelation that made Adam panic and Ronan say “Duh.”

Ronan was being a great distraction at present, regaling Adam with a swear-filled tale of triumph involving Opal and a bucket of slugs.

“So this fucking snot has two hands in this bucket and I just scrubbed the goat shit off the goddamn walls from her last fuckery, but she’s already dripping pond scum onto my shitting carpet and– what the fuck are you wearing?”

Adam looked over, hands still on his tie, to see Ronan paused, his face screwed up and red. His hands are still raised mid-gesture from his story. “What?”

Ronan’s face flushed redder, giving him big pixelized splotches on his forehead on Adam’s laptop screen. “Your tie.”

Adam looked down. The ted was red and gold striped. He suppressed a smirk.

“Blue picked this outfit out for me.”

Ronan snorted. “You let Sargeant make fashion decisions for your big fancy dinner party?”

Adam shrugged, frowning at the knot of his tie. “I facetimed Gansey to ask him if my outfit looked okay, because google wouldn’t give me any helpful information about how to pair ties and suits and I’ve never had this many options before. Blue was there so she helped.”

“Why couldn’t you ask me?”

Adam shot him an exasperated look. “Every time I ask you if I look okay you either say ‘No outfit will ever fix your ugly mug, Parrish’ or ‘Fuck anyone who wouldn’t like your face no matter what you’re wearing, Parrish’.”

Ronan shrugged, unrepentant. “But why that tie?”

Adam brushed at his sleeved in the way he saw men do in high-end tailors. “It matches the suit.”

“And a Slyth– a green tie wouldn’t match?”

Adam bit back another smile. It’s true, a green – that is to say Slytherin –  tie would go fine with his outfit. It was a navy blue wool suit jacket with a subtle plaid pattern and a light blue shirt. The green would have worked, all of the cool colors making him look dapper and sophisticated. But Blue suggested the red and gold tie and a yellow pocket square for interesting color contrast. To make him memorable.

And yes, Adam may have nudged her toward the red and gold tie, but Ronan didn’t need to know that.

“I like this tie.”

Ronan pouted, grumbling.

Adam smiled. “Are you going to finish your story about Opal and the slugs? I should probably get out of here in about fifteen minutes.”

Ronan swore but continued with his story, the climax of which included a slingshot, rubber gloves, and dream food-dye that changed color when sang to.

Before Adam hung up, Ronan stopped him with a “People will think you’re a Gryffindor, you know.”

Adam looked at him. This was the closest Ronan had come to acknowledging it. Acknowledging that Adam wearing Gryffindor things bothered him. “I don’t think anyone at this dinner is going to see my tie and think of Harry Potter, Ronan.”

Ronan grunted. “And if they do?”

Adam shrugged, grinning. “There’s a worse place for a Slytherin to be. Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” He winked. “They’ll never see me coming.”

 It all came to a head over Christmas break.

Adam almost snorted to himself as he thought that sentence. ‘Came to a head.’ How wonderful that phrasing was in the context of what he and Ronan were doing.

Ronan was mouthing along Adam’s collarbone, making his way slowly and agonizingly down Adam’s torso. Adam was ignoring him, or trying to, as he rid himself of every item of clothing between his body and Ronan’s. Which was to say all of them.

Ronan had been no help in this venture, too busy with Adam’s lips or hands or elbows. Ronan seemed keen on erasing every bad memory of a bruise Adam might have had with good memories of love and other kinds of bruises. Seeing as Adam had never catalogued everywhere he’d been bruised, Ronan took that to mean he had to worship anywhere.

Adam was very keen on letting him but that would be much easier if they were naked already.

Ronan basically was, only left in his boxer briefs, not being very clothed to begin with. Adam had had to start with his jacket and shoes and was still making his way to the full monty. And Ronan, his mouth biting into Adam’s neck, was not helping.

“Fuck, Ro.” Adam gasped through gritted teeth. Ronan chuckled, the air from his mouth cool against the damp spot he’d left on Adam’s throat.

As far as percentages went, Adam was doing well in clothing removal. He’d removed his jacket, shirt, belt, shoes, and pants. He really only had his boxers and socks to go. That was, like 90% if you went by square inch of fabric. 93% if you went by weight.

Good enough Adam thought, grabbing Ronan to spin him and throw him on the bed.

Ronan’s face was lit up and happy in a way it almost never was. It lacked the usual edge of malice or arrogance or scorn. This was Ronan untethered, unmasked. This was Ronan who was super happy his boyfriend was bossy in bed.

Adam’s grin was lethal as he stepped onto the bed, ready to hold Ronan down with his whole body when–

“Adam, what the fuck?”

Adam stopped, half-straddling Ronan. “What?”

Ronan lunged forward, grabbing at Adam’s calf. “Where did you even get these?”

Adam looked dumbly at his red and gold covered feet. He remembered putting them on, remembering thinking how funny it would be when Ronan noticed.

He was astonishingly finding it less funny than he was expecting to.

“They’re yours, obviously. I stole them when I stole the tie.”

Ronan looked exasperated at Adam, still clutching his calf. “Why?!”

“Because it’s funny, obviously.”

Ronan looked betrayed.

Adam laughed. “You get so mad! Just because I’m not a Gryffindor! But you refuse to admit you’re annoyed because that would make you a giant geek! Which you are!”

Ronan pouted, releasing Adam’s leg and crossing his arms. “You’re not fucking me while wearing those.”

Adam scrambled to take them off. “Fine, whatever. I was only doing it to see how long it would take you to mention it. This seems like as good a stopping point as any.”

Ronan rolled his eyes as Adam balled the Gryffindor socks up and threw them at Ronan’s face. “There. Your precious house pride is intact. Now then,” He crawled up the bed, bracketing Ronan’s still grumpy face with his hands. “Since you’re already here in this wonderful bed,” he leaned down to kiss Ronan, encouraging him to stop pouting and loosen up, “and you’ve already invited me to fuck you,” he continued, leaning down for a longer kiss. “Do you mind if I slither in?”

Ronan’s groan and Adam’s laughter help them up from having sex for another twenty minutes and it was still totally worth it.

#This is based off of a real situation except my sister's boyfriend wears her Slytherin things when he's a Hufflepuff #and I'm the one that gets annoyed #The Raven Cycle #Pynch #Oops I wrote a thing #I didn't even read this before posting #I just needed to write and finish something #Maybe I'll write and finish another short thing tomorrow. We can only hope. #Jessie writes pynch fic

[betterthinkaboutittwice]

Just in case y’all needed any more reasons to loathe and despise Donald Trump, he just appointed an FCC chief who is expressly anti-net-neutrality and gives zero shits about the potential of cable companies merging to form a monopoly over both TV and internet.

Best hope social media and regular media/news sites are in the first/basic tier of internet packages, because that’s what’s coming without net neutrality: cable companies will prioritize traffic to certain websites, and websites will have to pay more to make their site prioritized, and we will probably be sold the internet in much the same way we are sold television: in packages and tiers of channels, based on how much you’re willing to pay. Imagine a world where you paying your cable bill no longer gets you access to an open internet, but rather, you must pay extra to get access to certain levels of information on the internet. Imagine people with less money getting a smaller internet, with less information and less access. Because that could be what’s coming.

I will fight, tooth and nail, against this fuckery. Not in my lifetime. Not in my country. Access to information is a right. An open, accessible internet is not something we can compromise on. Net neutrality is a must.

#personal #net neutrality

[mostlysignssomeportents]

#5yrsago Short documentary explains Net Neutrality

Brian Knappenberger, who made the Internet's Own Boy Aaron Swartz documentary, has made an excellent, vital short film about network neutrality (or cable company fuckery).

I highly recommend watching it. I was one of the subjects in the video, as is Tim Wu, Susan Crawford, Lawrence Lessig and others.

The concept of “network neutrality” has been so central to our experience of the Internet, and such a driving force for innovation and expression, that most of us have taken it for granted. This Op-Doc explains the basic idea: when you visit a website, the phone or cable company that provides Internet access shouldn’t get in the way. Information should be delivered to you quickly and without discriminating about the content.

Yet now the principle is under direct attack. On May 15, the Federal Communications Commission (whose chairman, Tom Wheeler, was formerly a leading lobbyist for the telecommunications industry) proposed troubling new rules: Internet service providers could split the flow of traffic into tiers, by offering priority treatment to big corporations who would pay higher fees. That would mean a fast lane for the rich and a dirt road for others, harming small businesses and users.

‘A Threat to Internet Freedom’ [Brian Knappenberger/NYT]

https://boingboing.net/2014/07/10/short-documentary-explains-net.html

[themediafix]

Seriously. Comcast is BIG ENOUGH. 

Help us stop the Comcast-Time Warner Cable merger: http://bit.ly/1BPXDz2

#comcast #COMCAST SUCKS #Comcast/Time Warner Cable #cable company fuckery #cable guy #Time Warner Cable #media merger #Mergers