#It came from the very people who should have by all accounts accepted his rule however resigned or hateful that acceptance was

[wonder-worker]

Any judgement on (Richard III)’s reign has to be seen as provisional. The critic of the reign only has to consider how the Tudors would now be regarded if Henry VII lost at Stoke, to realize the dangers of too many assumptions about the intractability of Richard’s problems. But it would be equally unrealistic to ignore Richard’s unpopularity altogether. The fact that he generated opposition among men with little material reason for dissent, and that the disaffection then continued to spread among his own associates, says something about what contemporaries regarded as the acceptable parameters of political behaviour. There is no doubt that Richard’s deposition of his nephews was profoundly shocking. To anyone who did not accept the pre-contract story, which was probably the majority of observers, the usurpation was an act of disloyalty. Gloucester, both as uncle and protector, was bound to uphold his nephew’s interests and his failure to do so was dishonourable. Of all medieval depositions, it was the only one which, with whatever justification, could most easily be seen as an act of naked self-aggrandizement.

It was also the first pre-emptive deposition in English history. This raised enormous problems. Deposition was always a last resort, even when it could be justified by the manifest failings of a corrupt or ineffective regime. How could one sanction its use as a first resort, to remove a king who had not only not done anything wrong but had not yet done anything at all?

-Rosemary Horrox, "Richard III: A Study of Service"

[lafcadiosadventures]

Madame Putiphar Groupread. Book Two, Chapter XXXIV

Francesco Hayez. Two versions of La Meditazione, 1851

(ALSO pls check out this 1877 edition of Mme P, including an illus of Deborah smashing the pornography!! couldn't post that bc of ownership, but I would have!!)

(reading mates: @counterwiddershins + @sainteverge )

Asorted thoughts on this very extense and well written chapter:

(this is a very long post you guys. it happens)

-Deborah should know by now not to visit her regular places

-on a symbolic plane, Catholic rites endanger her, literally put her in a vulnerable physical position (we have seen how catholicism can be a crutch for Patrick, pushing him to pasivity)(Deborah is always more active, but this time she is literally led by her faith to a place her captors know she frequents, and she herself is lying flat against the ground, which gives her captors physical dominace over her)

-Once again, the intelligence of the character is not entirely consistent, the scene tho, is very effective and evocative (deborah has watered the stones of the church floor with her tears. Her captors don't respect anything, it's the whole idea of profanation, not only of a temple but of a sacred moment)

-they blindfold her, cover her with one of her capes and shove her into a carriage. Reminds me a lot of accounts of people who were illegally detained, it all rings true. Once agin this is the (monarchic) state employing tactics of criminals.

-Deborah never gives up mentally, refuses to walk and has to be pushed, uses her eloquence to persuade the guards to let her live for the sake of her child (a smart rhetoric tactic, since her captors don't care about her, maybe they will doubt helping kill her if they know she is pregnant)

-Borel's narrator acts as if we don't know what we learnt last chapter (she is not going to be killed, she is sent to the king's brothel) giving the reader the upper hand over Debbie.

-However we don't know if her persuasivve speech has worked, we are as blind as her. She shakes and cries out in disgust as she recieves a succession of kisses on her cheeks and mouth. The person who just did that is a woman, who tells her she is safe and surrounded by people who love her. We guess this is the Madame. Her current tactic after kissing her against her will is being verbally soft and respectful, minding protocol and her title.

-Deborah is still blindfolded, not allowed to learn the structure of the place she is imprisioned in, yet the narrator shows us she is paying attention to what she can percieve as she follows the madame through the building (stairs, counting the sounds of locks, etc)

-Once inside her well furnished bedchamber-cum-cell, her blindfold is removed. Her two servants are incredibly ugly old men, very polite as well, dressed in Green, a color that has been highlighted in the narrative in relation to the clothes of Villepastour and the Knight of Youth. Beauty, mundanity and sexuality connects Villepastour and the perhaps more positive (and less pusilanimous) but also deadly Knight, so it's valid to connect the servants with them. They all serve the same credo. (it would be clever, even if nothing points to this, if in a Der Blaue Engel twist, the servants were past Villepastours, former discarded lovers of Pompadour, reduced to serfdom and watchdog status)

-A feast is brought to her room (the idea is to make her lower her guard) she is famished and parched but doesn't touch even a glass of water (the theme of the pure heroine resisting worldy temptations, seen in many fairytales) She suspects the food is poisoned but I imagine also a kind of repugnance from anything that came from her captors, accepting the food is in a way, playing by their rules. A dueña (duègne in french, a chaperone) undresses her and introduces her into her bed. (We are now in a bifurcation, Deborah enters one of the types of prisons for women -> the royal Brothel, we will perhaps see a prison for men, if Patrick has survived his illegal arrestation)

-Deborah tries to guess where she is, relying on what she heard and smelt on the carriage, and what she has seen and how she was treated in the mansion. (this once again, reads absolutely verosimile if one compares it with accounts of people who have been kidnapped or illegally imprisoned, Borel is well documented and it shows. Once again, it is interesting that he chooses to give us this insight with Deborah and not with Patrick. Borel wants us to stay with Deborah and like her, believe that Patrick is dead and she is all alone)

-She concludes she has been kidnapped and taken to one of Villepastour's retirement houses (nobles used to have smallish mansions to keep mistresses/sexual servants, sometimes literally trapped with no chance to leave... not really different from forced sexual labor) Her guess is as we know, partially wrong but very close to the truth. and if Villepastour hadn't spoken would Pompadour had remembered to take revenge on her?

-{i think it's fair to say that the king in this novel is like the king in chess. He is not at all the most powerful piece in the board. He does evil and has no qualms about it -as we will see- but everything has to be arranged for him, he must be served in all orders. He doesn't even know who Deborah is, so people around him can definitely use him for their petty revenges. It's not that he's a dupe (even if Pompadour is the mastermind of the novel) it's just that he is lazy, even the hard work behind his "fun" must be arranged by others}

-Deborah regrets not having stolen a knife from the table. She is far from defeated mentally, she'd rather die fighting.

-She avoids sleeping to be alert, opens the window. The fresh air revives her (nature comes to her aid against the evils of men) she sticks her head against the door to try and hear anything to avoid being surprised, but also, to learn anything that might be informative.

-once again the dueñas enter her room and manipulate her body while she still sleeps, putting her some pretty slippers on. She is now a doll, with little to no bodily autonomy. She is taken to a bathroom (the narrator still takes Debbie's pov, she is trying to ammass as much details of the place she is in as she can) She is put inside the bathtub (Borel cleverly uses passive voice to show us how she is being treated, gently but forcefully, and sorpresively. She cannot anticipate her servant/gaoler's movements and they are strong enough to lift her and move her like furniture)

-Enter a woman in a robe who deborah recognizes by the sound of her voice as the woman who has kissed her the night before.

-Enter the portrayal of queer persons -lesbians were a privileged subject- in french Romanticism to this particular book. How does Borel does it, in contrast to his peers? Physically there is nothing ordinary about her, Borel barely spends a line on how she looks like, it's how she acts that interests him. Borel is to be commended for this, there is nothing constitutive, physically essentialist about her queerness. What's important is that she is a mature woman of “vulgar”figure, with very refined manners. We conclude, probably a working class woman, nothing remarkable in her apereance, who has learnt the refined manners of her bosses. (I would love to compare her with Passereau, the beautiful and hispanic looking little sparrow who is confused with a male prostitute by the men gathering under the gay cruising spot aka the Boar in the Tuilleries, but I need to reread Passereau, all I can think of rn is, although Passereau isn't foreign he -like Borel- is thought to be, and remember how many of Vautrin's boyfriends are italian or corsican, even if vautrin himself is extremely ??? north of france looking with his flaming red hair, it is not unfrequent to “foreignize” homosexuality, even by authors who were queer themselves, like balzac, and very possibly Borel as well)

-I need at this point to bring up the Mother Superior in the Sainte-Eutrope Convent from Diderot's La Réligièuse. She and the Madame have some things in common. The Superior basically does the rounds undressing and bathing and forcing herself -sometimes, she is desired by some- on her novices and nuns. Her physical portrayal is similar to Borel's she is basically unremamrkable looking, of extreme sensitivity, a little fat but there's no Phrenology going on here, from either author. Although the Superior abuses her power she is not a rapist of the violent kind, I think the Mother Superior actually believes Suzanne loves her back, and she is incredibly surprised when Suzanne, right after making her orgasm, cries out for help because she thinks the Superior is sick)(this is fine erotic writing by old Denis, the prologuist of my penguin edition complains Suzanne is too inocent to be believeble, I personally buy it)(this book needs rereading though)

-Borel highlights her mouth (something that Balzac does in Théodore Calvi's -one of his corsican homosexual bandits, and a personal favorite of mine- introduction, and Hugo does with the very likely male prostitute Montparnasse. Borel does a close up shot of her lips, her honeyed mouth, she is savouring every word she says, to make Deborah trust her but also alludes to an excess of sensuality same as Diderot's Mother Superior)

-what follow is a long and interesting dialogue with Deborah and her. Both women are written as intelligent and trascend their stock roles of pure heroine and perverse gay madame.

I'll make use of cam's translation here:

“The interest that is being taken in me is too violent, madame; it is an indiscreet and insulting zeal which I fault and reject. But may I at least know who professes such an exorbitant benevolence towards me? In whose name was I led to this shelter? what is this shelter and what fate is awaiting me here?”

“(...)Answer me, am I here in a state prison?” “Does this residence, mylady, resemble a dungeon? and me, do I look like a gaoler?” “Could I be in a convent?” “Maybe.”

(that maybe...Even if couvent in french doesn't connote brothel like in elizabethan english, Borel invites us to find the similarities between both institutions)

-Deborah is correct in her intuitive association between the royal whorehouse and a prison.

-Borel's narrator illustrates the madame's thought process when Deborah begs for more concrete answers. Characterizing her as a bohemian, (une fine bohême, with an ^ instead of an `) a romani woman (we are perhaps getting exotification of homosexuality as foreign here?) and “fine” she is indeed, she is very sharp and makes the lies she tells appear like confidences the “élèves” have forced her to make. So she invents a story about a suposed benefactor (the Count of Gonesse) who heard about Deborah's enemies and vulnerable position and has taken her so that she can enjoy a confortable and safe life in seclusion, and throw herself freely into “the voluptuosness of pain and melancholy”. Deborah doesn't even believe the Count to exist. If he does, she demands to be told what does he want from her, what are his plans concerning her...(the "why me" moment) The idea behind the Madame's answer is to make Deborah believe her benefactor wants to win her heart and marry her later on, so that she accepts the king's “visits” meekly and with a false sense of hope.

-Deborah ofc doesn't want to marry again (least of all, marry an unknown man who is forcing her into a sense of indebtedness and gratitutde) this setback makes the madame think of starting Deborah's education aka having sex with her, (the king, Borel tells us, is fooled, he only gets the crumbs the Madame leaves for him) She tries to get Deborah naked, but she holds her clothes back. She gets chided for her modesty (only ugly women should be modest, the madame claims, while groping her body and describing it through metaphors, marble like breasts, her silouette, as curvaceous as a vase, something @sainteverge has noticed is a reccurring theme in her descriptions) Borel is in fact very explicit, breaking the boundaries that usually constrain fellow “serious” novelists who avoid explicit sex scenes even when the plot would require them. Borel lets us know the madame was kissing deborah's breasts and was in fact about to give her oral, when Deborah stops her by holding her forehead away from her crotch.

-the madame appologizes but asks Deborah to understand she wants to earn her love, while she laments not being a man, in order to please her. (mentioning this bc wanting to change genders is another favorite theme for the Fr Romantics... homosexuality seems linked in this period to a kind of transexuality)

-Deborah is said to not be able to understand sex between women. Although she finds the Madame's stares sexually charged, can only link them with how Patrick touches her/looks at her, she is still in the dark. Reminiscent of Diderot's Suzanne Simonin whose body the Superior uses to reach orgasm, and she never understands what is happening to the other woman. (it must be said that Borel calls lesbianism a depravation*. Diderot links it to an illness-no comments- he however, thinks he is being sympathetic)

* there are many instances in this book where Borel asumes a moralistic writing style, such as when he describes Pompadour’s sex apron,,,

-An interesting point is that art is what allows Deborah to understand homosexuality. Pornography in a wold where gayness isn't talked about openly is the only point of reference she can have. This is very interesting (consider vautrin, speaking of his sexuality constantly in terms of references from the books he has read, only once porn in his case)

-another interesting detail, re the dynamics of this prison: Deborah has the keys to her own room (cell) so she locks herself in. She proceeds to break everything in it, especially the porn on the walls and shelves of her library (if you haven't watched the Handmaiden (2016) yet, watch The Handmaiden, it's the closest thing to a madame putiphar adaptation we have without it being one) She makes a huge ruckus, throws boooks, porcelain figurines the whole shebang in a cathartic explosion, out of the window. The madame begs to be let in, begs for Deborah not to break anything else. Deborah confronts her, she is in a brothel and she is a madame. The Madame still tries to deny it all, insists with the story of Gonesse, but Debbie still doesn't open her door, so the madame summons brute force (once again as in many moments of this book, people are persuaded first by kindness then by brute force to submit to the hegemony) a soldier is summoned to break the door down, Debbie stands her ground. after calling her a madwoman, a thankless madwooman who pays back with insanity the kind treatment she was given, the men start pounding on the door, they break it down but face a barricade of furniture, Deborah yells she will jump out of the window if they even cross it. The Madame begs the soldiers to stop bc Debbie is in fact capable of keeping her word and the blame would fall on her. The battle is won by Deborah who is sieged inside her room with enough food to last a few days...

[skeilig]

i am on my knees begging for more info about the kieran-jeremy beef...

oh boy, i used to dream of asks like these.

so a lot of it just me reading into things (bc i think a basically harmless beef btwn 2 costars who did good work together is fun and spicy lol) but most of it stems from the original, infamous new yorker profile of jeremy. of the cast's remarks, most people read kieran and brian's as being the harshest. brian ofc had doubled-down on his issues with jeremy's method since then (see the "method acting masterclass" bit from fallon), in a way that is kinda extra and cringe imo. the kieran-jeremy beef is more subtle and unspoken and therefore classier (and kieran is sexy and funny so he can do whatever he wants).

some of kieran's remarks in the new yorker profile i think have been a bit misinterpreted. for instance, he was quoted saying that jeremy's method "doesn't work" for him, which is kinda ambiguous. is he saying that jeremy's approach to acting inhibits his own ability to work OR is he saying that jeremy's method wouldn't work for him personally if he were to try it. i lean toward the latter. the worse parts of the article imo were just cringe-fodder, such as kieran and jeremy's disagreement about whether the show is a comedy, and kieran speculating that jeremy prepares improvisations for set, and he repeated one such "improvisation" ("rooting-tooting good time for all the family!" which made it into the climactic scene in austerlitz) in so many takes in a row that it began to grate on other cast members, until sarah snook snapped at him in character and said "SHUT. UP. KENDALL." kieran sharing this anecdote definitely is NOT flattering to jeremy. i can see how from another actor's pov, when you're encouraged to improv on set, and how vulnerable and intimidating that can be (kieran struggled with improv at first but grew to excel at it!), it could break the trust on set to have one actor not playing by the same rules.

in a later profile of kieran (i wanna say GQ but i'm not gonna cite sources sowwee), he was asked to reflect on the jeremy profile and his remarks that caused a lot of buzz. his response was cordial but he basically just quickly shut it down and the journalist editorialized that "maybe he's learned to keep things to himself." which i think may be the case!

ever since then, i've just noticed the many times when kieran has conspicuously failed to mention jeremy. in a pre-s4 profile, there was an account of their last day of filming, which was the scene between the 3 siblings in the kitchen in barbados. after they wrapped, kieran made a speech and apparently profusely thanked and poured love onto sarah snook (as he should!). it was not stated whether or not he addressed jeremy, his other scene partner for this last scene. he might have, but it was not confirmed one way or another. and then there's just his many acceptance speeches (the emmys being the most recent) where he names other lead cast members but does not mention jeremy at all, even when they have been nominated in the same category (a bit strange, i'll admit!).

so in conclusion this is just me speculating for fun. it's not a big deal, i don't think either is in the wrong or a bad person or anything. it's a personality mismatch but they were still able to do amazing work together (kendall/roman scene in the finale is sooo cwazy). it's just kinda funny when a lot of popular tv shows are very invested in the "we're all a family and love each other" image for their cast/crew, to see a show that's very well made but has some obvious interpersonal tension. reminds you that interpersonal conflict is not bad and evil which is something i think a lot of people forget, lol.

EDIT BC I FORGOT: sometime during s4 there was an interview where it came out that roman's rant at the end of s3's episode "too much birthday" was at one point cut from an early draft of the script and kieran fought to have it added back in, and he stated that it was his favorite roman scene. he also stated that jeremy disagreed with the scene being in the episode. which is just a funny thing for him to add. like, yeah jeremy didn't want the scene in the show.. but daddy jesse agreed with me 😁

[destroyerofnations92]

“Much had been written about Daemon Targaryen – brother to a king, husband to a queen and father to yet another queen – and even more had been said of him, but none could deny the devotion to his blood.”

Chapter one of my completed five-chaptered House of the Dragon AU/Fix-it has been made public for all readers. Go have a look!

If you like what you read, for only $10/month+VAT you get early access to every single one of my stories, chapters/months in advance to regular (free) members and those on other websites, like AO3.

A short snippet below 👇

*****

Darkness was falling over the isle of seahorses, now overrun by dragons, and the drunkenness had done Aegon no favours.

And yet, when a shadow fell over his narrowed eyes, he managed to heed its glaring warning, “Who goes there? Brother?”

The kick to his legs told him it was not Prince Aemond Targaryen in whose presence he was. No, it was a far more malevolent spirit. It was the very man who haunted his nightmares and his waking hours both—Ser Otto Hightower.

“Get up!” and now the Hand kicked him in the ribs, harshly and excruciatingly expelling the air from his lungs.

It was easier to think of Ser Otto as merely the Hand of the King, rather than his mother’s father—his own grandsire. After all, what kind of grandfather degraded his grandson as he did?

Another kick and yet another stab of sharp pain rang through his body, making his lungs seize and the breath catch in his throat.

“I told you to get up, boy,” Otto hissed at him, “You are a disgrace.”

Aegon was unceremoniously pulled up by the hem of his tunic and blearily stared into his abuser’s eyes.

“You are a disgrace to your house!”

A backhanded strike to his jaw and eye made his vision go blurry.

“Your father is weakening by the day and here you are drinking yourself into a stupor whilst you should be proving as to why you are the only true choice he has for his successor.”

“Rhaenyra is heir,” a defiant Aegon slurred.

If he could have seen through the blurriness of the tears and his intemperance provided, Aegon imagines he would have seen his grandfather bristle as a bull. Nose flaring and eyes bulging, as they tended to do when the Hand of the King set his eyes on his eldest grandson.

“Rhaenyra is a spoiled girl who has no respect for the traditions and customs of our people and our lands. The lords will never accept her as queen. Women are ill fit to rule, besides,” Otto spoke in that same haughty voice of his, still clutching Aegon’s tunic, “You will be king. The lords of the realm will see it no other way. I shall see to it no other way. House Hightower has worked more than a century for this. You will be king.”

“I will not,” and Aegon spat out the blood that had accumulated in his mouth.

He imagined a few drops had hit Ser Otto’s dark tunic, embroidered with golden thread. Even at a funeral, his grandfather had to look as if he was the one who was king, rather than his servant.

Yet another slap to his face was followed by a violent kick to his ribs, causing Aegon’s head to smack against the wall of the outdoor staircase he had been hiding in.

Aegon awaited yet another barrage of kicks and slaps, followed by some disparaging remarks, as had become the norm since his grandfather had returned to the Red Keep to serve as Hand once more.

Where before it had been his mother alone, who may have smacked him across the face once in a while, now she had been strengthened by Ser Otto’s return to the capital, as well as his sister fleeing to Dragonstone.

A loud rustle had Aegon bracing himself for the agony to come but nothing came. Instead, there was a loud yelp, followed by a flurry of punches. The prince would recognize that haunting sound anywhere. The unnatural meeting of flesh over knuckles meeting with the hard bone of a man’s visage.

Yet, it was not Aegon being punched.

*****

Also, check out my Linktree for all my social media and fanfiction accounts.

[victoriousscarf]

This article was from last October and thus does not take the most recent events into account but I often find myself going back to it lately... Excuse me while I also now quote excessively from it below:

ROBINSON

And this helps us to understand the development of Palestinian resistance to this project. Today, this is characterized often as being based on irrational anti-Semitism. But as you point out, when we understand the history of the development of this resistance, we see it differently. There are even early Zionists on the record saying things like I don’t know how you expect the Palestinians to react, they’re going to react the same way every indigenous population reacts when there is a colonial project to impose minority rule. [Ben-Gurion himself said: “If I were an Arab leader, I would never sign an agreement with Israel. It is normal; we have taken their country.”]

...

ROBINSON

There have been many attempts in the United States and Israel to make Palestinians completely unpalatable and impossible offers and then characterize Palestinians as unreasonable, uncompromising “rejectionists” when they won’t accept the offer.

KHALIDI

That’s a trope that goes back to Abba Eban: “Never miss an opportunity to miss an opportunity.” There weren’t very many opportunities. There might have been one or two. I talk about the 1939 White Paper. It was a very limited opportunity. The Palestinians, in my view, were very foolish to fail to accept it. There might have been other opportunities. I was involved in the negotiations at Madrid and Washington [in the early 1990s] with an Israeli delegation in which we tried to achieve self-determination and statehood. And that was something that was systematically denied us by the ground rules laid down by the United States at the behest of Israel. The same ground rules ended up governing the Oslo process later on. So there was no opportunity there.

It turns out, I argue in the book, and I’ve argued elsewhere, that the maximum that would be offered, has ever been offered to the Palestinians, is some form of autonomy under Israeli sovereignty with complete and absolute Israeli security control. Israelis would have control of the borders, the airspace, the land, and the water under everything that Israel was willing to offer under every Israeli government. I go into Yitzhak Rabin’s shift in his willingness to accept the existence of a Palestinian people and his willingness to negotiate with the PLO. But even Rabin in his last speech made it very clear that there would never be a Palestinian state.

So self-determination, statehood, and independence are ruled out by the Americans and Israelis, then and now, I would argue. So what are we talking about? You can pick up your own garbage, but we’ll arrest anybody we want, any time we want, to torture them, beat them up, and drag them off to our jails. And we’ll do it to anybody who resists our dominance, and we make all the laws, and you obey our military rules. What kind of “state” is that? That’s not a very good deal.

ROBINSON

Let me dwell on this because it seems critical. To the extent that there has been talk of a “two state solution,” what has actually been on the table consistently in every negotiation for the last 50 years has never involved a concession by the United States and Israel—they negotiate together—that Palestinians should have anything that we would consider to be equivalent to a state in the sense that other states are states.

KHALIDI

The United States talks the talk, but it will not walk the walk. It will never say “this outcome has to include complete and absolute Palestinian independence.” It will never impose that in Israel. It will never lay that on the table as the outcome that has to be reached.

There are some Israeli governments that came closer to this than others. Rabin came closer. But none of them would have accepted the idea that Israel would give up its security control, that Israel would cease to control the borders, that Israel would cease to be the only sovereign power. I mean, if you don’t have your own army and your own borders, and your own economy, and your own ports and your own airports and your own airspace, you’re not sovereign. You’re not independent. You’re a dependent subunit of a larger sovereign state. And that’s all that Israel has so far been willing to offer. The United States has never pushed it to do anything more than what Israel was willing to do. The deference of the United States to Israel is limitless.

...

ROBINSON

When you said the Palestinians are not engaging in terrorism, one important point is that various means of resistance are denied them. You’re very critical in the book of attacks on civilians. But at every stage, the available ways that Palestinians can fight back have been constricted, and those things that horrify us come out of that. 

KHALIDI

I think there’s another point to be made. I argue in the book that various forms of armed action, including, especially, attacks on civilians, are horrific, immoral, and, very importantly, politically counterproductive. I go into this in some detail at one point in the book. But it has to be said that slaughtering civilians is slaughtering civilians. When Israel kills 16 children and five women in Gaza, using 2000-pound bombs and Hellfire missiles, if you don’t describe that as terrorism, and you describe the death of an Israeli child or an Israeli woman or another Israeli civilian as terrorism, this is Orwellian language. You are simply using the word “terrorism” as a bludgeon to demonize Palestinian resistance, whereas somehow the murder of children in Gaza … 16 kids were killed in these attacks, five women were killed in these attacks. Heaven knows how many other civilians were killed. Maybe a dozen militants were killed? I don’t know. But 30 or so civilians were murdered. If that’s not terrorism, then the word has no meaning. And this happens every single time. There were 240 civilians killed in one of these attacks a few years ago. Each time the toll is equally lopsided. Why are attacks on civilians not considered terrorism? If you use the same measure, I have no problem with the use of that term. But then you have to describe the use of Hellfire missiles and F-16s and heavy artillery in the same way. In the book I go into the kinds of weapons that are used by Israel— the artillery, the missiles, the aircraft, the helicopters—and the indiscriminate nature of the attacks on a population of a couple of million people in a tiny area. If that’s not terrorism, I don’t know what is. But of course, the term is only applied to the Palestinians. Somehow Ukrainian resistance is not terrorism yet Palestinian resistance is. I repeat, I think the killing of civilians is wrong and immoral. It’s a violation of international law. But if that’s true for the Palestinians, certainly it’s true for the Israelis as well and on a much larger scale.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Mike Luckovich, Atlanta Journal Constitution

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

February 3, 2023

Heather Cox Richardson

Last night, former vice president Mike Pence came out and said it: “I think the day could come when we could replace the New Deal with a better deal.”

Pence was talking about Social Security—a centerpiece of the New Deal—saying: “Literally give younger Americans the ability to take a portion of their Social Security withholdings and put that into a private savings account.”

Privatizing Social Security is his plan to address the growing national debt by cutting expenditures, at least in domestic spending. “It’s absolutely essential that we generate leadership in this country that will be straight with the American people, that will take us off this trajectory of massive debt that we’re piling on the backs of those grandchildren,” Pence said at the National Association of Wholesaler-Distributors summit in Washington, D.C.

Another way to reduce the debt would be to raise taxes on corporations and the very wealthy, even to where they were before the massive tax cuts Republicans passed in 2017, but current-day Republicans oppose taxes, claiming they redistribute wealth from hardworking people to those who want a handout. They believe that cutting taxes to enable those at the top to accumulate wealth will enable them to invest their money in businesses, creating more jobs. Wealth will trickle down, and everyone will do better.

Republicans like Pence believe the federal government should stay out of economic affairs, letting individuals make their own decisions in free markets (although the concept of a “free market” has always been more theoretical than real). Any federal attempts to regulate business or provide a social safety net are “socialism,” they claim, although they have largely forgotten how that argument was established in the United States.

This argument is what gives us the story Kayode Crown reported yesterday for the Mississippi Free Press: thirty-eight of Mississippi’s rural hospitals, more than half of them, are in danger of collapsing because Governor Tate Reeves refuses to allow the state to accept an expansion of Medicaid. The hospitals are required to treat all patients who need care, but since many patients are uninsured, without the expansion of Medicaid the hospitals don’t get paid.

On Monday, Reeves warned Republican lawmakers not to “cave under the pressure of Democrats and their allies in the media who are pushing for the expansion of Obamacare, welfare, and socialized medicine.” “Instead, seek innovative free-market solutions that disrupt traditional health-care delivery models, increase competition, and lead to better health outcomes for Mississippians.” Last month, in a poll from Mississippi Today/Siena College, about 80% of Mississippi voters wanted Medicaid expansion.  

This theory also says that the government should also stay out of the business of protecting civil rights, because state governments are the centerpiece of American democracy. That’s the idea behind yesterday’s decision by a panel of three judges of the right-wing Fifth Circuit. They ruled that a federal law prohibiting people who are under a domestic restraining order from owning a gun is unconstitutional.

In the 2022 New York State Rifle & Pistol Association v. Bruen decision, the Supreme Court said that the government must prove that any gun regulation is “consistent with this Nation’s historical tradition of firearm regulation,” and because the Constitution’s Framers didn’t stop domestic abusers from possessing guns, we can’t either. As Ian Millhiser points out in Vox, it was not until 1871 that a state court determined that “a husband has no right” to beat his wife.

Slate’s legal reporter Mark Joseph Stern notes, “There is no real doubt that the 5th Circuit's decision is going to lead to more abusers murdering their wives and girlfriends. It will also increase mass shootings. Domestic abuse[rs] are vastly more likely to commit heinous acts of gun violence.” Millhiser says it is very likely the Supreme Court will take up the case.

Under the Republicans’ theory, the country has seen wealth move upward dramatically, hollowing out the middle class and leaving it vulnerable to leaders who have attracted voters by telling them that minorities and women who want “socialism” are to blame for their loss of power.

Today an audio file from November 5, 2020, just after the presidential election, was leaked that shows members of Trump’s campaign staff in Wisconsin acknowledging Trump’s defeat before Andrew Iverson, who led the Wisconsin team, said, “Here’s the deal: Comms is going to continue to fan the flame and get the word out about Democrats trying to steal this election. We’ll do whatever they need. Just be on standby if there’s any stunts we need to pull.”

Iverson now runs operations in the Midwest region for the Republican National Committee.

In contrast to the Republican theory, President Joe Biden and the Democrats have revived the theory embraced by members of both parties between 1933 and 1981. That theory says that the federal government has a role to play in the economy, regulating business, providing a basic social safety net, investing in infrastructure, and protecting civil rights. Rather than freeing capital for those at the top, Democrats want to invest in ordinary Americans who will, they believe, spend their paychecks, thus building the economy as they move money directly into the hands of their neighbors.

Today at a Democratic National Committee finance event in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Biden explained that “when we build from the bottom up and the middle out, poor folks get a shot, the middle class does well, and the wealthy still do very well.” We have to invest in ourselves again, he said. “How…can you be the most successful, powerful nation in the world and have third-rate infrastructure?...  How can you attract business and commerce and keep things moving?”

“[W]e used to invest 2 percent of our G[ross] D[omestic] P[roduct] in research and development…. But about 25 years ago we stopped.” Investment dropped to 0.7 percent of GDP, he said, but now the CHIPS and Science Act will jump-start that research and development again. The administration is also bringing supply chains home and rebuilding foreign alliances. And Biden told the wealthiest people in the room today that they were paying an average of 3% in taxes and needed to pay their fair share. “I don’t want you to pay 90% again”—the top marginal income bracket in the Eisenhower years—but at least 15%, he said.

From the White House, Biden noted that the “strikingly good” new jobs report issued by the Bureau of Labor Statistics this morning proved that his vision of society works. It showed an astonishing 517,000 new jobs added in January, the twenty-fifth straight month of job growth. Unemployment fell slightly to 3.4%, a low last seen in May 1969 (not a typo).

Between 1933 and 1981, Americans of both parties shared the idea of using the federal government to level the social, economic, and political playing fields. The current Republicans are rejecting that vision, reclaiming that of the business-oriented Republicans in the 1920s. Under Biden, the Democrats are trying to rebuild that shared vision, returning the parties to fights over the kinds and limits of government policies, rather than fights over whether they should exist at all.

Biden told his audience that “once every three, four, or five generations, there’s a fundamental shift in world politics and national politics” and that we are in such a shift now.

“What will happen [in] the next three or four years [is] going to determine what this country looks like for the next four or five decades…. We’re laying down a foundation, because the world is changing—dramatically changing. And we have a choice.”

—

Notes:

https://news.yahoo.com/pence-calls-for-social-security-reform-private-savings-accounts-181754393.html

https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2023/02/03/january-jobs-labor-market/

https://www.mississippifreepress.org/30720/as-mississippi-hospitals-fail-leaders-kill-medicaid-expansion-efforts-again

https://flaglerlive.com/wp-content/uploads/Fulghamv.State_.pdf

https://www.vox.com/policy-and-politics/2023/2/2/23583377/supreme-court-guns-domestic-abuse-fifth-circuit-second-amendment-rahimi-united-states

Steve Vladeck @steve_vladeckThe Fifth Circuit strikes again: Unanimous panel (Jones, Ho, Wilson) strikes down the federal statute prohibiting possession of firearms while subject to a domestic violence-related restraining order; holds it violates the Second Amendment under Bruen:

8:03 PM ∙ Feb 2, 20231,392Likes789Retweets

https://assets.nationbuilder.com/firearmspolicyfoundation/pages/3970/attachments/original/1675361904/United_States_v_Rahimi_Opinion.pdf

Mark Joseph Stern @mjs_DC

There is no real doubt that the 5th Circuit's decision is going to lead to more abusers murdering their wives and girlfriends. It will also increase mass shootings. Domestic abuse are vastly more likely to commit heinous acts of gun violence.

slate.com/news-and-polit…

8:23 PM ∙ Feb 2, 20231,119Likes554Retweets

https://www.latimes.com/politics/story/2023-02-03/trump-campaign-wisconsin-promote-election-lies

https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/speeches-remarks/2023/02/03/remarks-by-president-biden-at-a-democratic-national-committee-finance-event/

https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2023/02/03/january-jobs-labor-market/

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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[yourthirdparent]

hi! i was scrolling through tiktok and came across this account which writes original songs, and this might be my hiperfixation with him, but to me they are all about jason, thought you'd like it

https://www.tiktok.com/@eclipseofthemoons?_t=8WQULb8NRwb&_r=1

heyo! i love this actually and you're so right. sorry to subject you to this but i'm gonna jot down my ideas on a bunch of her songs that i can see being about jason. putting it under a readmore cuz this'll get long.

this one is about him dicking around and having flings with random people at edgarton after he gets the prophecy from herophile. he's already decided that if he and piper go on the quest then it'll be him who dies, and he's accepted that it'll be Death with a capital D, so he knows he doesn't have much longer to live and has decided to do a bunch of shit to like make it count or whatever. the "clearly made up crime" mentioned is actually jason continuing to live after the first prophecy (both the "[person] or jason is gonna die" prophecies were actually just to make sure jason would end up dead quick). the crime is made up because it literally isn't against the rules that he continues to live, like either he or leo had to die and leo did that so jason should be able to head off totally fine. jason recognises that it's stupid as hell that they're just making shit up about how it's against the dumb ass rules for him to live when it shouldn't be but he's accepted it and is now just deciding to mess around. the last line of "when my body and my innocence aren't mine" conjures a specific idea for me but it's probably too dark for me to share anywhere so i'll just say it's about how he sacrificed his body and his childhood to the legion through the years he was there

this one is about the bitterness he feels towards his time spent as centurion then as praetor at camp jupiter being him being a tool for the gods for most of his life. "i created those around me" is about him training the newer members of his cohort. "playing god is funny til you have to choose who's dying first" is about how he used to use his power as a way to generally fuck around with people (like jokingly saying he'd punish someone for very light things) or improve the legion (like establishing better ways to handle younger campers or the whole changing the name to the first legion to represent a new start for rome) but eventually he has to lead his cohort and the legion into battle and send people off to do things that would likely lead to their deaths. "our bodies were the vehicle, transporters of the soul" is about how demigods are treated like pawns to assist in the plans of the gods. "i was young and bold and stupid in a six foot, self dug hole" is jason reflecting on how he used to throw his life away to carry out the wishes of the gods. "was i the only one to question anything at all? i guess i was, that's my bad. i'll answer to her call" i like to think that jason started questioning if a life serving the gods was worth the sacrifices he makes the instant he had to send someone off to what would probably be their doom. he starts asking if it's really a fair life if it's spent serving beings who don't care about you. juno doesn't really like that he's thinking things like that so she snatches up any memories of that when she sends him off to camp half blood. "my immortal evolutionary traits are still intact. i am unapologetic for the sympathy i lacked" is him p much saying he's got the powers of the gods and he's not afraid to use them if the gods try to take him down. unfortunately this is kind of overshadowed by the next lines which are "i left my body back in california cuz i'm weak" which i decided is basically him leaving the life he could've led back at the park his mother left him at, and "overdosed on phenobarbital, it's part of my mystique" with phenobarbital being used for seizures which can be caused by flashing lights which can be replicated with something like idk lightning which jason summons quite often. epileptic jason is real to me

THIS ONE OH MY GOD I AM BARKING AT MY SCREEN AND SCREAMING INTO A TUPPERWARE. it's about jason having his powers taken from him after the whole "calling zeus unwise" thing. he was probably getting someone out of a dangerous situation by jumping from something high, like a tall building or a cliff, when suddenly he figured out that oh shit he can't fly anymore. "did anybody listen? did anybody care?" is him questioning why nobody caught him. i like to think that he was carrying percy at the time and they landed in a body of water and poseidon caught them in it. but like, obviously poseidon wasn't trying to catch jason, jason was just attached to percy at the time so he ended up tagging along for the ride. so jason's wondering like, why did nobody else try to catch him? why did some wind god or another sort of water god that he'd helped, or someone like frank who could fly down not catch him? if not for the fact that it was percy that he was carrying, would he just be dead? all cuz his father took his powers from him for making a valid point? and uhh "i'm praying to a god i don't believe in on a dare" is him 1 losing all respect for zeus because what kind of piece of shit lets their child jump off a building and then takes their power away right when they're going to die? and 2 still praying desperately to zeus and any other god that could possibly save him on the vague hope that they would save him. "i'm not sure what i'm missing, a piece forever gone" is about how his powers (more accurately, the reminder of him being jupiter's son) is such an engrained part of his identity that when its taken away its like there's a piece of him that's just missing and will never be brought back. "i misplaced my mind at sunset" is him calling zeus unwise right after apollo was sent off to be punished later (and also close to the end of summer), "and stole it back by dawn" is him making the choice to go into the fight against caligula knowing he'd die close to the end of apollo's journey (and a bit into spring). (the seasons thing is about the concept of spring being dawn, summer being day, fall being dusk, and winter being night. like seasons corrospond to points in time in a yearly sense rather than a monthly sense). "me and my numerous souls" is the idea of the lives lost in battles jason led haunting him until his own death.

this one actually just has a couple lyrics that are jasoncore but !! funsies. this one's about his relationship with piper and dealing with the end of that while dealing with the prophecy in tbm. "it is simple, it is stupid that i'd rather write than speak, but melodies are easier when we haven't talked in a week. i'm on thin, thin ice, i've lost my way, i'll save it for another day" is him throwing himself into his work to avoid having to talk about him and piper drifting apart. just desperately avoiding that conversation because it's worse to deal with the awkwardness if they break up. "every word i say is just a lie" is about him neglecting to mention what herophile told him in the prophecy, "i'm betting with the gods until i die" is about him. b. betting with the gods until he dies. he's praying and he's trying to get his work on the shrines and such done before he dies (maybe working a bit harder on underworld gods so he doesn't have to worry about them being pissed at him when he gets down there). "i don't feel much but that's my only sin" is aroace jason. sorry bout it he's aroace for this pologies

this one is very priest jason, pretty god jason if you feel it. maybe he's gotten closer to the underworld gods or is the god of judgement (which works awfully well with his father being the god of justice). either that or its him being told all this by the judges when he reaches them. or by the spirits in the long ass line to judgement. or by nico before he even dies!! endless possibilities :)

this one. i literally can't explain it just listen to it. literally just. you understand. just all of it. gifted kid, struggles with english, mentions of storms and lightning bugs and promises. i don't need to explain. jasoncore through and through. especially the "i need more storms that blow you off your feet and carry you away, i need lightning that dances across the sky in graceful fury, i need fields of fireflies floating in the endless skies" bit. obviously cuz yk storms, lightning, but the way they're used seems graceful and calculated rather than angry and irrational and impulsive. this is gonna take a violent jump into anger issues jason but it feels a lot like how jason is expected to be cool and calm and whenever he shows anger everyone tells him to stop because he's supposed to be better.

maybe my hyperfixation on him isn't big enough to connect all of this one to him but the beginning sure as hell fits. also feels pretty leocore? like all of feels leocore. but more importantly jason. anyways "i'm overwhelming, overbearing to distract from the plain fact that i have no personality" and "i'm obnoxious cuz i own no originality" are jason not knowing who he is and throwing himself into anything that can make him seem like a whole person, like for example leaning further into his friendships (more specifically the idea of being the mom friend) than most other people tend to, or being annoyingly enthusiastic about anything he's interested in. like he's exaggerating any part of himself that he's certain of in the hopes that he'll convince everyone he's an entire interesting person. "i'm just copying whoever seems to be doing well" is self explanatory, he's mimicking everyone cuz he doesn't think he can do fine if he just Is what he is without any input from other people.

this one is hoooooh. again it's just a few lyrics but hwow is it banger shit. "the antagonistic arguments that line my unpaid debts is a pressure i can't withstand" is about how he feels like he owes something great because he's a jupiter kid at a camp that's named after his father and titled something that legitimately applies to him (fulminata, armed with lightning) and how everyone pressures him to be better than others cuz of it. and yk. anger issues jason. he feels like he's being antagonised. "showing pain is childish when i cry" is about jason being expected not to feel sadness or pain or anything and how he learned to crush that down and not cry and so he considers himself crying to be childish because the last time he cried was when he was a little kid who missed his family and the wolves and was overwhelmed from the new surroundings he was thrown into. "i'm praying to a god that's just a lie" isn't jason believing that the gods aren't real but rather that praying to them for things is pointless because they'll never listen. "i'm drinking down a tin of pastel paint cuz neon colours make me want to faint" can be many things. examples examples uhh autistic jason. like neon colours are just too damn bright for him and can overstimulate him vv easily and pastels are just easier for him to take in. or it could be a metaphor for demigod life being too much for him (represented by neons because chb has bright ass orange and camp jupiter has not really a neon purple but it's certainly not very pastel) and him heading out into the mortal world which is like less harsh and contrasted and more just blank and light. less heavy.

i didn't get to all of them cuz it would take me like a week to write all of it (this took me like an entire 24 hours hshs) and would be SO long (this is 2133 words rn it'd be so fuckin long if i kept going) but you're so right and am now obsessed with her music. thanks for sharing!

[captainarchmage]

Why CaptainArchmage thinks you should back Democrats in Today's Special Election

Again, I didn't want to make this blog about politics but given the situation, I again have to make an exception, and those exceptions, much like your average Republican candidate for speaker now needing some kind of spyware app to cut down on his pr0n use, is rapidly becoming the norm. Read that until it sinks in, please. Due to other commitments, I haven't been posting any of the content I intended to post on here, but anyways.

So today there's a sort of off-year election day in America, and apparently that involves a bunch of state-governors in certain parts of America and a few state legislature elections. Now once upon a time, I said if I became an American citizen, because political parties go wrong, I'd probably be an Independent. That said, I didn't see ANY election in recent history I wouldn't have voted for the Democrat.

Today, there are some people who think that they can sit this one out, or vote for a third party, and that will work out and stick it to people. My reaction to that is below.

GIF by astrisjanus

Really, commander? Well, if your "options" are "Democrat, Democrat, Socialist" or "Socialist, Democrat" I can see it's fair game to vote for the Socialist. If there is a seat which is "Republican" and no other candidates, you can - or rather, I should say, SHOULD, if you fulfilled the criteria, have considered running for that seat. But of course, that time is past. Also those aren't the majority of races. In general, you'll have "Democrat, Republican, Third Party" and too much of that time that Third Party is going to drain votes (or be set up TO drain votes) from Democrats. Voting third party isn't going to help, unless there's a "collective epiphany" of a very large number of people and those don't work that way and the risks are way too high.

I repeat, that's not going to work. Too many "third parties" have turned out to be Republicans with the serial numbers filed off and there's plenty more where that came from. Meanwhile, the people having a "collective epiphany" thus far seem to have decided to turn into raging racists, anti-semites, islamophobes, homophobes, transphobes, and borderline genocidal fascists. So I say, to hell with collective epiphanies and to hell with collective spiritual awakenings in the present and now. It ain't working, and the evidence is it ain't working, and the evidence is also it's making things worse. Maybe we need to stop with that, because that strategy seems to be working best for people with the worse instincts, and not bringing out anyone with better instincts. My reaction below as to, literally, seeing this and see people continue to promote this as a viable option.

GIF by undeadwatcher

A reminder that the Republican party is the party trying to ban reproductive care, prosecute people for miscarriages, ban transgender people, expel all people of a certain religion (and remember that will possibly extend to anyone who has ever been involved with that religion OR looks like the "stereotypical" [in the eyes of the people enforcing that rule, a view that doesn't have to have any rooting in reality, c'mon, you guys have already been protesting this] member of that religion, accept into their ranks take funding from open holocaust deniers, is OK with someone who blames wildfires on "Jewish Space Lasers", and generally destroy democracy in America.

BuT BoTh sIdEs, SO I GUESS TODAY'S FINALLY THE DAY YOU'RE GOING TO FUCK EVERYTHING UP to own the libs or something. Really?

GIF by grimdarkauxiliatrix

A reminder that the current credentials of the average Republican politician seem to be corruption, fraud, damn fraud, and requiring your son to be your accountability buddy so you don't watch pr0n. I don't really see a progressive movement succeeding if it ends up putting these people in charge. You've got to hold onto what you already have, too. Gif related, my feelings.

GIF by muvana

I'm also starting to highly doubt the leadership capability of many so-called "alternatives". You know, if you want to be a challenge to the Dems, you can't just be someone who is "I'm an Independent". The expectatin is you're going to get better policy than Democrats, but instead both the candidates and the people asking for alternatives keeping making some critical mistakes. For example, like pandering to the "upper left quadrant" of "people who would like to have social safety nets, but only if they were granted exclusively to a small clade". Or to sum up a certain trumpeted "independent" candidate, it's a case of "I Gotta Solution. A Final Solution" populism. The Young Turks "third party" option seems to have an issue with trans people which the old guy in the Presidency doesn't. Cornell West noted getting nominations as an agreed-upon party member would be difficult in terms of ballot access, and instead of rectifying those he made the logical step to run as an independent. RFK, meanwhile, is a vax denier. There's something really unstable, I note, among these people and a drain from movements such as "Occupy Wall Street" to literal neo-nazism, and that has me questioning how viable these really are.

Meanwhile Democrats *HAVE* delivered, such that they can. Biden tried to cancel student debt with considerable success, though SCOTUS is in the way (and that's a Republican problem), reduced inflation, and lead to low unemployment, and an increase in unionization. And no, despite the accusations surrounding Biden and the rail strike in 2022, workers actually did win paid sick leave. Meanwhile, Michigan Democrats with a 1-seat majority on their legislature(s) struck down the "right to work" laws in that state.

So in total, that's it. With Democrats, you get progress in the end, and you maintain protections. With Republicans... you don't, and you might not have anything left at the end of it. There's no third party viability, and believe it or not there's no requirement that there be any viable third party candidates. That's it, and in my view you should give Democrats a chance in this year's elections.

[badedramay]

Low key so embarrassed at times to be a Pakistani when it comes to fandoms. I — for better or for worse — have been in several different fandoms that span the world, yo. MCU, Harry Potter, K dramas, J dramas, K-pop, Turkish dramas, Bridgerton, anime… literally everything.

I have never seen this mentality of fans trying to dictate who an actor can or cannot work with, and I thought I had seen pretty much everything. I mean when youre as big of a BTS fan as me, you legit think you’ve seen it all when it comes to toxicity, but once again pakistan unpleasantly surprises me.

Plus, with pretty much zero exception to this rule, it is always the female in the situation who is blamed for working with an actor which is their job, regardless of if the female is part of the hit pairing or the kebab mein haddi. The Maya and wahaj thing is recent, but it was the exact same with sajal and Ahad. Fawad and Mahira. Ayeza and Imran Abbas for a while. To some extent, mawra and Ameer Gillani, and the two leads from fairy tale whose names i can’t ever remember.

Where does this come from in pakistan? What is it about our culture that makes people think this is acceptable? Can you tell me if you’ve seen it anywhere else aside from Pakistanis? I legit don’t even see Indian/hardcore Bollywood fans say this type of stuff about their faves. A part of me is wondering if it’s the same subset of people who think telling an actor their clothing is acceptable or not is saying these things and that’s where the entitlement comes from, but I don’t want to falsely accuse the deen of something if there’s another cause.

ps you should check out “the glory” K drama on Netflix. I think you’d like it.

one word: misogyny.

it's a misogynist society and a frustrated society. there's no welfare for the people. economy is shit. the political state of the country is shit. there's literally no security of future here. things get progressively worse and worse for the people who are living here on monthly wages, God only knows how the people surviving on daily wages are faring. no one is having it "good" here except for a very very VERY select few. and there's no way of showing that frustration for many people. social media gives people an anonymity to channel their frustrations in different ways. kisi deewar pe toh sar phodna hi hai.

btw, I disagree that Pakistani fandoms are so worse of the lot. this story is the same everywhere. the only reason why it looks bigger here is because compared to other fandoms, by quantity, Pakistani fandom is smaller. it's like a small town where everyone knows everyone. there's no escaping the trash at the side of the road cuz everyone is using the same road to travel. while other fandoms like kpop for instances can still allow fans the make their own safe circles away from the negativity and still manage to enjoy the feel of a large community. itna toh main likh ke de sakti hoon that by no comparison is Pakistani fandom worse than the stuff kpop fans, specifically armies, pull out. it's all about where you are getting your news from.

twitter is just ONE of the platforms where fandoms exist. before the monopoly of social media came into place, we had multiple platforms which housed fandoms. idk if you have interacted with fandoms at different places. for me, the tumblr fandom culture largely shaped how i interact with the media (a mix of meta analysis+edits). the twitter side of fandom interacts with media different. Indiaforums had a very different way of interacting with media. soompi and dramabeans were where I went for kdrama side of fandom. we also have reddit which is a completely different beast. and these are just English speaking platforms. the local Korean/Chinese/Japanese platforms which remain the biggest and most influential communities for the East Asian media content have a culture that outsiders simply cannot understand no matter how good the translating account is.

so yeah, yes Pakistani fandoms have problem. but which fandom doesn't? the general rule of "mute and block and be vigilant in maintaining a timeline that caters to only your interest!" applies here as well as to every fandom ever. ignore the shit takes and the negativity the best you can; they only exist to sour your personal good time here.

(i LOVEEEEEEEEEE The Glory. i showed my love for it decently enough on twt back when both the parts dropped)

[reddancer1]

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

February 3, 2023 (Friday)

Last night, former vice president Mike Pence came out and said it: “I think the day could come when we could replace the New Deal with a better deal.” 

Pence was talking about Social Security—a centerpiece of the New Deal—saying: “Literally give younger Americans the ability to take a portion of their Social Security withholdings and put that into a private savings account.” Privatizing Social Security is his plan to address the growing national debt by cutting expenditures, at least in domestic spending. “It’s absolutely essential that we generate leadership in this country that will be straight with the American people, that will take us off this trajectory of massive debt that we’re piling on the backs of those grandchildren,” Pence said at the National Association of Wholesaler-Distributors summit in Washington, D.C.

Another way to reduce the debt would be to raise taxes on corporations and the very wealthy, even to where they were before the massive tax cuts Republicans passed in 2017, but current-day Republicans oppose taxes, claiming they redistribute wealth from hardworking people to those who want a handout. They believe that cutting taxes to enable those at the top to accumulate wealth will enable them to invest their money in businesses, creating more jobs. Wealth will trickle down, and everyone will do better.

Republicans like Pence believe the federal government should stay out of economic affairs, letting individuals make their own decisions in free markets (although the concept of a “free market” has always been more theoretical than real). Any federal attempts to regulate business or provide a social safety net are “socialism,” they claim, although they have largely forgotten how that argument was established in the United States.

This argument is what gives us the story Kayode Crown reported yesterday for the Mississippi Free Press: thirty-eight of Mississippi’s rural hospitals, more than half of them, are in danger of collapsing because Governor Tate Reeves refuses to allow the state to accept an expansion of Medicaid. The hospitals are required to treat all patients who need care, but since many patients are uninsured, without the expansion of Medicaid the hospitals don’t get paid. 

On Monday, Reeves warned Republican lawmakers not to “cave under the pressure of Democrats and their allies in the media who are pushing for the expansion of Obamacare, welfare, and socialized medicine.” “Instead, seek innovative free-market solutions that disrupt traditional health-care delivery models, increase competition, and lead to better health outcomes for Mississippians.” Last month, in a poll from Mississippi Today/Siena College, about 80% of Mississippi voters wanted Medicaid expansion.

  This theory also says that the government should also stay out of the business of protecting civil rights, because state governments are the centerpiece of American democracy. That’s the idea behind yesterday’s decision by a panel of three judges of the right-wing Fifth Circuit. They ruled that a federal law prohibiting people who are under a domestic restraining order from owning a gun is unconstitutional.

In the 2022 New York State Rifle & Pistol Association v. Bruen decision, the Supreme Court said that the government must prove that any gun regulation is “consistent with this Nation’s historical tradition of firearm regulation,” and because the Constitution’s Framers didn’t stop domestic abusers from possessing guns, we can’t either. As Ian Millhiser points out in Vox, it was not until 1871 that a state court determined that “a husband has no right” to beat his wife. 

Slate’s legal reporter Mark Joseph Stern notes, “There is no real doubt that the 5th Circuit's decision is going to lead to more abusers murdering their wives and girlfriends. It will also increase mass shootings. Domestic abuse[rs] are vastly more likely to commit heinous acts of gun violence.” Millhiser says it is very likely the Supreme Court will take up the case.

Under the Republicans’ theory, the country has seen wealth move upward dramatically, hollowing out the middle class and leaving it vulnerable to leaders who have attracted voters by telling them that minorities and women who want “socialism” are to blame for their loss of power. 

Today an audio file from November 5, 2020, just after the presidential election, was leaked that shows members of Trump’s campaign staff in Wisconsin acknowledging Trump’s defeat before Andrew Iverson, who led the Wisconsin team, said, “Here’s the deal: Comms is going to continue to fan the flame and get the word out about Democrats trying to steal this election. We’ll do whatever they need. Just be on standby if there’s any stunts we need to pull.”

Iverson now runs operations in the Midwest region for the Republican National Committee.

In contrast to the Republican theory, President Joe Biden and the Democrats have revived the theory embraced by members of both parties between 1933 and 1981. That theory says that the federal government has a role to play in the economy, regulating business, providing a basic social safety net, investing in infrastructure, and protecting civil rights. Rather than freeing capital for those at the top, Democrats want to invest in ordinary Americans who will, they believe, spend their paychecks, thus building the economy as they move money directly into the hands of their neighbors.

Today at a Democratic National Committee finance event in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Biden explained that “when we build from the bottom up and the middle out, poor folks get a shot, the middle class does well, and the wealthy still do very well.” We have to invest in ourselves again, he said. “How…can you be the most successful, powerful nation in the world and have third-rate infrastructure?...  How can you attract business and commerce and keep things moving?”

“[W]e used to invest 2 percent of our G[ross] D[omestic] P[roduct] in research and development…. But about 25 years ago we stopped.” Investment dropped to 0.7 percent of GDP, he said, but now the CHIPS and Science Act will jump-start that research and development again. The administration is also bringing supply chains home and rebuilding foreign alliances. And Biden told the wealthiest people in the room today that they were paying an average of 3% in taxes and needed to pay their fair share. “I don’t want you to pay 90% again”—the top marginal income bracket in the Eisenhower years—but at least 15%, he said.

* TOO BAD, THEY SHOULD PAY 90% AGAIN!!!

From the White House, Biden noted that the “strikingly good” new jobs report issued by the Bureau of Labor Statistics this morning proved that his vision of society works. It showed an astonishing 517,000 new jobs added in January, the twenty-fifth straight month of job growth. Unemployment fell slightly to 3.4%, a low last seen in May 1969 (not a typo). Between 1933 and 1981, Americans of both parties shared the idea of using the federal government to level the social, economic, and political playing fields.

The current Republicans are rejecting that vision, reclaiming that of the business-oriented Republicans in the 1920s. Under Biden, the Democrats are trying to rebuild that shared vision, returning the parties to fights over the kinds and limits of government policies, rather than fights over whether they should exist at all.

Biden told his audience that “once every three, four, or five generations, there’s a fundamental shift in world politics and national politics” and that we are in such a shift now.“What will happen [in] the next three or four years [is] going to determine what this country looks like for the next four or five decades…. We’re laying down a foundation, because the world is changing—dramatically changing. And we have a choice.”

[deathlessathanasia]

"The other major revolt against Zeus and the Olympian order was launched by the GIANTS (Gigantes), who were defeated by the gods with the aid of Herakles in the mighty conflict known as Gigantomachy (Gigantomachia). The Giants were earth-born as their Greek name implies; according to the Theogony, they were conceived by Gaia in the very earliest times from drops of blood that fell to the ground from the severed genitals of Ouranos. Hesiod describes them as powerful warriors who wore gleaming armour and carried long spears in their hands, an account that conforms with the usual portrayal of them in archaic works of art. It is not clear whether the poet meant to suggest that they sprang up from the ground fully armed (like the Spartoi at Thebes); Claudian, a Roman poet of the fourth century AD, is the first author to state this explicitly. Even though the Giants are presented as martial beings, there is no indication in the Theogony that they ever revolted against the gods (except perhaps in a late section of the poem probably added after Hesiod’s time, which seems to refer to the contribution that Herakles was supposed to have made in helping to defeat the Giants). There is indeed no proper evidence at all for the revolt until the first artistic representations appear in the second half of the sixth century BC

Homer alludes to Gigantes on three occasions in the Odyssey. The Laistrygonians, some adversaries of Odysseus in the remote seas who seem to have been very large and were certainly very violent, are described as being ‘not like men, but like Giants’; in another passage, ‘the wild tribes of the Giants’ are bracketed with the Phaeacians and Kyklopes as beings who are akin to the gods; and third, we are told that a certain Eurymedon once ruled the overbearing Giants but brought destruction on himself and his people (in unstated circumstances). There is no reason to suppose that the latter story has anything to do with a revolt against the gods; nor can we assume that these Giants, who seem to have lived far away over the sea, were necessarily the same as Hesiod’s (any more than in the case of the Kyklopes, see p. 66). According to a tale ascribed to the Hellenistic poet Euphorion, Hera was raped by the Giant Eurymedon while she was still living at home with her parents, and bore Prometheus to him as a son. When Zeus came to learn of this after marrying her, he hurled Eurymedon down to Tartaros and ordered that Prometheus should be thrown into chains, using his theft of fire as a pretext. The obscure reference to Eurymedon in the Odyssey must have inspired the invention of this revisionist myth.

It seems likely that the main features of the story of the Giants’ revolt was established in an early epic account which was widely familiar by the early sixth century BC and came to be accepted as canonic. The richness and consistency of the artistic record from the sixth and fifth centuries would otherwise be hard to explain; and the popularity of the story in this period is also indicated in a disapproving remark by Xenophanes (born c.570), who mentions the Gigantomachy along with the Titanomachy as a violent subject best avoided in after-dinner recitations. The earliest literary allusions reveal nothing about the content of the legend apart from the location of the battle and its most surprising feature, namely that the gods  had to call on the assistance of Herakles (during the period of his earthly life when he was no more than a mortal hero). Pindar mentions that he brought the Giants to the ground with his arrows, including their king, Porphyrion, as they were confronting the gods on the plain of Phlegrai; and the Hesiodic Catalogue reports likewise that he brought destruction to the Giants at Phlegrai as he was returning from his campaign against Troy. On maps of the Aegean, the most striking feature of its northern shoreline is the Chalkidike with its three ‘prongs’, the peninsulas of Pallene, Sithonia and Athos. Phlegra or Phlegrai, the traditional home of the Giants, was usually identified with the westernmost peninsula, Pallene (although the adjoining peninsula of Sithonia and some of the hinterland of the Chalkidike were sometimes also reckoned to be part of it). Although the Giants seem to have confronted the gods on their home ground of Phlegrai in the original story, accounts were developed in which they took the battle to the enemy by trying to storm Olympos; and specific duels were said to have ranged further abroad, as we will see, to the southern Aegean and as far away as Sicily. Some Hellenistic and later accounts transfer the entire conflict to other regions, such as Arcadia or the Phlegraean (Fiery) plain in the neighbourhood of Mt Vesuvius in Italy."

 - The Routledge Handbook of Greek Mythology

[atendersun-archived]

"Do you remember when we first met?" She asks while sitting with her legs crossed under herself on the floor. "You were asking me about lesbian earrings. And that first day alone you didn't have fear of telling me things about yourself. Not only did I accept them, I shared my own stories with you. There was trust, there was mutual understanding, and there was more willingness to listen and make sense of things." Neff sighs. "So what happened, Muu? Why is it that now all of a sudden you can't trust me when I tell you certain things? Why is it that you can no longer believe your friends when they try to help you? I don't understand what it is that we did for you to feel that way around us, but is there any way we can get you back to that point? You were making so much good progress before and I just don't want you to dig yourself into a hole you can't get out of."

Of course he did. Even still did he have a modest appreciation for all things jewelry and queer in culture. That about himself had yet to change much. It could have withstood a wider range of knowledge in regards to creators and history, yes, but that was a much smaller feat than where his focus needed to be at for the time being.

In a way, it should have been expected. Her attempt at getting through to him that is at least. He'd be unwise to expect her visit to include nothing more than a humble exchange of jests and uneventful life events carried on by his part. Understandably, he knew she not only knew better than to settle on that, but that Neff possessed the know how that she deserved better as well. He had told her about the grittiness of his past prior and she had stayed, so really the question of why his growing fears made anything different was a completely genuine one.

There hadn't even been so much as a minor shift in tone, or a concerning look directed his way, and yet the male became so overwhelming carried away by worry that he could only wish to cry so deeply he melted away.

Heartbroken, he thought to himself about the wrongness surrounding his person. That not only did he find inadequacies and ugliness within his smile and his honesty due to an earlier account with a friend, he also figured that he managed to find a way to not even be able to heal correctly either. Certainly, he had heard that often the process of self growth had periods of regression and backwards development; however, he came to wonder if maybe that was a concept not pertaining to him.

He had long since added it to the paradox of rules already within his head in the hopes of achieving the unobtainable: perfection in the name of worth. With every human mistake made, each one without a malicious meaning behind it, he felt further and further away from his goal. As a result, what he wanted felt more and more like something he still hadn't come to earn.

Briefly, he thought to circulate his thoughts through signing; however, on considering what few people were allowed to hear him, she was one of them.

"I am just very.. smad over lots of things, I guess. I feel like.. like the Inside Out movie is playing twice over itself.. I'm both sad that Akatsuki is gone forever just as I am over Nicky having a team Muu to not having space for me at all. I'm.. I'm mad that I took to growing up as a means of safety when everybody else got it naturally and nicely in the same way I'm mad Sully gets to be called beautiful from people who make Muu feel like anything but. An- and I am just.."

It came on sudden. Exhaustion. That meant the medication he had been prescribed to for some time to assist with the physical reactions his body encountered as a result of traumatic stress was well at work. Easily could he have napped right on the floor with her there, but he still had more to say.

"Most of me just feels like a Fear would. I'm scared because.. because I don't know what is going to happen to me for making me be the only person to ever make Sully be that kind of mad and disappointed. I know what happened to me last time I made a boy with the black hair go from my friend to not being that, and now I be worried about what all the people gonna think of me.. I'm.. I'm maybe very big worried that the not very kind people are going to find where Muu is, and I will have made everything happen again instead of proving I have had good in me for the unconditional kind of safety and loving all of this whole time."

[binniedeactivated]

whorehouse. || 💦

➥ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

➥ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬! 𝐚𝐮, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

➥ 𝐖/𝐂 |  4k

➥ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 | 𝐧𝐨, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬. 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

➥ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱! , 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐬, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥!𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲.

multi-fandom ask requested by @light164star​ hope you enjoy this my love!

in any normal university a fraternity represents ambition, passion, and integrity amongst brotherhood. but things were different in your university.

the Sigma Chi (ΣΧ)’s were different. they stayed in this big gorgeous frat house across campus, they threw the best parties and had the best of everything. they had the best selection of everything on campus, even down to the best dining hall. they were very selective to who they admitted. well, judging by the guys you saw leave that building it seemed as if they only accepted the best of the best. the best looking guys, best athletes, the academic powerhouses, the all rounders. every guy on campus wished they were one of them and every girl wished they could be with one of them. but the Sigma Chi’s never dated anyone. that was their number one rule.

and lastly, the sigma chi was rich. not because it was full of a bunch of guys who were spoiled rotten by their parents. not because the university provided them with full ride scholarships. but because the sigma chi house wasn’t what everyone thought it was. of  course it was a house of brotherhood, but they had subscribers all across campus. including you. and the university officials had yet to know that. not that anyone would snitch anyway, they practically had everyone wrapped around their fingers. they even managed to wane off some of the security guards and professors from scoping out their territory, giving them hush money for their loyalty.

i know what you’re thinking. no -- the sigma chi’s aren’t a mafia. despite their ways they’re actually far from a mafia. they were a fraternity. they were a business. and one thing for certain, two things for sure, don’t you ever meddle in the business of the sigma chi’s. no one has ever came back from that little mistake. as far as you were concerned the victims were basically wiped off the face of the earth, complete lost of contact, even their social media accounts deleted and deactivated. no one knew what the sigma chi’s did to them but no one wanted to find out either.

anyway, you held your head low while walking towards the steps of the house. not everyone on campus knew about their little secret but that still didn’t keep you from being embarrassed about yours. you were a happy subscriber and you weren’t going to deny that. sometimes you wondered how your application even got accepted. but it did. you went into the little convenience store they held in the building, waiting for kim seungmin/kang taehyun/ ju haknyeon, either one of them were required to check you in. they worked at the house convenience store but little did anyone know the trio were the brains behind the whorehouse. they didn’t handle much subscribers themselves, but faithfully took care of admissions and payments. oh, and also check in’s. no one could get service or even have access to the whorehouse without going through them first.

the motion detector chimed indicating that they had a customer. you bit your lips looking around a bit, hoping no one walked in right after you. hoping they would think you’re just there to purchase snacks or something. with his sleeves rolled up from handling the store’s stock--coming from the back was kim seungmin. he approaches the back of the counter and does a little head tilt, indicating that you needed to show your identification. you reached your fingers into your wallet and plucked up your student identification card, sliding it on the counter. he reaches for it and opens an app on his smartphone, making sure you were a paying subscriber. lord knows they had enough people behind on payments yet still trying to receive service. even though you knew you were up to date on your payments you still gulped. seungmin never really showed much of any facial expression which scared you. just a sullen, hard expression that made everyone around him think he hated them. 

“you’re all set. sign this slip”.

he grabbed the small notepad full of paper slips he’d printed and specially designed himself, writing the date and his signature signifying that he approved your service. it was your job to sign the bottom line though confirming your consent to anything included in your service. you swiftly grabbed a pen and scribbled your signature.

“room 502. make sure you give them that or else you’ll have to leave”.

you nod and place the slip in your pocket, taking the elevator to the floor. you admit you were nervous as hell, this is how you were each visit. when you’re a subscriber you don’t know what type of service you can get. you’re just assigned to a random room and you’re promised a good orgasm-- several even--- by the time you leave. the way university was stressing you out these days that’s all you needed. your feet finally approach the door and you knock hesitantly. the door opens a bit, just enough to show his face and they grey and black silk robe he was wearing. it was choi yeonjun. fuck. you were scheduled with choi yeonjun today. there was no doubt in your mind that you’ll be fucking ruined.

“slip?”.

you fished it out of your pocket and showed him. he took it and nodded before crumbling it and tossing it in the nearby trash can. he opened the door further, you could see the dark room only illuminated by the deep red lights that lined the perimeter of the room. your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach at the sight of handcuffs, a pack of gummy worms and a vibrator sitting on the edge of the bed.

“come in”.

you nervously slipped through the crack of the door while he shuts it behind you. the room smelled like cherries, it always did for some reason. you stood there and swallowed. you could hear yeonjun faintly chuckling behind you, his hand brushing along your waist.

“you scared baby?”.

“y-yes”. you stammer. he kisses your cheek.

“you should be. take those panties off and get on all fours for me”.

“okay”. you stuttered once more doing as you were told. you came here enough to know that clothes always went on the clothing rack beside the door. fully naked you hesitantly crawl on the bed and remain on all fours just as instructed. you could hear the clashing metal of the handcuffs behind you as yeonjun undoes them and hooks them around both of your wrists and around the headboard. the cold metal ring clung painfully tight around your wrists and you gasp a little at how rough he was.  your back was now arched in the perfect bow and anything he wanted to do he could do it, your body was at his full disposal. you could feel his hand slide down your midsection and your breathing hitched. he removes it and lowers himself to the level of your face just to glare into your eyes. you stared into the abyss of his eyes in fear. he takes two fingers and rub them together, smearing the wetness he collected from you before slipping them in his mouth. he then slides it out.

“you’re not wet enough”.

and on that note he shifts to another side of the room and you heard the familiar sound of goo melt into the palm of his hand. you wince at how cold it was when he coated you with it, getting a good rub on your clit before slipping his fingers inside of you just to coat you that way. a subtle moan left your lips when he did so, unbeknownst to you that yeonjun had other plans when it came to your needy noises.

“none of that today,”. he says in response before picking up a pack of long heavy gummy worms. “that’s what these are for”. he ripped the pack open and grabbed a handful just to go over and shove between your lips. “I don’t want to hear any sounds from you today, you understand?”. you nod with the gummy treats in between your teeth. they were so thick you didn’t know how anyone could ever chew through them.

the buzzing noise of the vibrator rang behind you and your feet immediately grew cold. you couldn’t back out now. you paid for this. this is what you subscribed for. you had to take it.

yeonjun clutches your thighs and slides himself beneath you, face to face with your pussy that was practically begging for him at this point. you felt the smooth, thick grey vibrator slip past your slippery folds pushed deep inside you. in an instant you no longer knew how you were going to keep your legs in place this whole time. you started breathing hard gnawing on the gummies as hard as you possibly could. “shaking already baby? you’re going to have a hard time today”.

he steadily holds the toy, sinking it between your folds and pulling it back out slowly relishing the way your wetness coated it. moans awaited in your throat yet you forced them back down. yeonjun loved the way your pussy looked from this angle but most importantly he loved the way your clit looked. plump and glistening with lube. he softly hums and slides his tongue against it. you gasp but this time refusing to exhale.

“mmm”. he hums again and gives it another cat lick before pushing his face closer and coddling it between his lips. you decided to breathe, as shaky as it sounded at least you weren’t making any noises. but fuck you wanted to. the way he was twisting and moving the toy inside you, the way his wet tongue felt curling against your clit, you wanted to collapse. and he knew it.

he groans after pulling away from your folds with a thin spit string to follow but he couldn’t keep himself from going in for more. he ate you like a hungry tiger, each taste of you is like heaven in the coil of his tongue.  that’s what killed you the most. that’s what made your legs tremor the most. yeonjun didn’t eat pussy as if he wanted to eat pussy. he ate pussy as if he needed to eat it. and that made all the difference.

every lick sent electricity straight to his groin. the fact that you were shaking above him unable to do anything but breathe heavy and take whatever he was giving you turned him on. he thought your little lips were so soft, pretty and scrumptious. he slid his tongue around every crease and fold refusing to neglect a sector. he always had an unquenchable desire to please. your insides burned with agony. he told you that you weren’t allowed to make noise yet he ate you like this? you couldn’t take it. your breathing was already heavy and your legs were already on the verge of collapsing so if he didn’t stop within the next 5 seconds you’d be a moaning mess through the gummies in your mouth.

he fucks you with the toy a bit faster,  twisting it inside you while he flat tongued your clit prior to sucking it gently; hallowing his cheeks in the process. your eyes close and the jolts of pleasure made your tummy cave in. your heart rate soars and now your wrists were writhing desperately inside the cuffs. it felt so fucking good. god, it felt so good. your torso was on fire. his fingers dug into your innermost thigh while his tongue further explored you. he licks a particular spot that you weren’t quite fond of anyone licking, sending a bone shuddering moan through the air.

“ ffuckk! please!”.

yeonjun halts his movements at the sound of it. you mentally cursed at yourself. how could you be so stupid?

“what was that?”.

you swallowed. you agreed to keep silent. that was a bad choice. he slipped himself from underneath you and approached your face, grabbing your jaw roughly forcing his attention on him.  “answer me when I’m speaking to you”.

lord knows you wanted to. but he looked so incredibly scary like this your jaw trembled at the thought of even replying. he lets go of you forcing your head to drop back down in between your shoulders. “you don’t want to fucking listen right?”. you heard a barely audible chuckle but you knew he wasn’t chuckling because anything was humorous. “I got something for you”.

the sound of that made your heart drop. you didn’t know what the hell that meant. your mind couldn’t even grasp what it could possibly mean. all you knew was that you were handcuffed to this bed in this dark red room, your body in the position of complete freewill. after a couple of minutes more of drowning in the fear of your own thoughts the door behind you open and close. you heard not one set-- but other sets footsteps creak the floor. your eyes grew as wide as moons. little did you know though, this was all apart of their plan. yeonjun knew you wouldn’t be able to take what he was doing to you.

“since you don’t know how to shut up, I brought some friends who won’t mind doing it for you”.

squatting to your eye level was lee juyeon, another one of sigma chi’s most honorable members. he does this sly smirk before rubbing your cheek with his hand. “how you doing precious?”. your heart began to pound dangerously fast. sliding his hand through your hair was hwang hyunjin, on the other side of your face wearing the same smirk as juyeon. “damn you’ve got a pretty one jun”. he comments. if you weren’t bound to the headboard you’d run out of sheer nervousness. but you couldn’t.

juyeon grabbed your jaw and glares into your eyes steadily, almost as if he were searching for something. with him doing this you hadn’t even noticed that yeonjun and hyunjin disappeared behind you. “you have some pretty lips. you know that? show me how well you can suck my dick“.

he fiddles with the waistband of his briefs, giving you a gorgeous view of his chiseled body and you wanted to melt right then and there. however someone was groping your thighs underneath you and you realized yeonjun was back in the same position as before. and hyunjin was above him, his hands groping your ass and kneading it. he spills some lube into the palm of his hand and shoves two slendery, slippery fingers inside your ass without warning. you choked on your own spit and wince at the pain. he rubbed his clothed dick against you, biting his lips.

“have you ever done anal before baby?”.

you shudder. “nno i haven’t”.

he hums before scissoring his fingers inside you a bit more, stretching you out so his dick could fit perfectly. you’ll admit, you weren’t too keen on anal before hyunjin stuffed his dick inside you and filled you to the brim. yeonjun attaches his lips to your clit again, and juyeon rubs his dick against your lips forcing you to take him in whole. more than anything you didn’t know you’d be experiencing this. being ruined by three men instead of one.

you hummed against the shaft of juyeon’s dick at the feeling of yeonjun’s tongue licking your soft folds through and through, all the while hyunjin’s giving you soft thrusts from behind. the delicious mix of pleasure made you delirious. your tummy caved in and your thighs were trembling once again. and oh yeah, yeonjun got his wishes of you staying quiet. juyeon was filling your mouth so much a sound could barely be audible. juyeon slips his hands in your hair, jerking your head back just so he could see your mouth filled his precum. he grins.

“a subscriber of the whorehouse gets used like a whore. you like this shit don’t you?”.

hyunjin grips your waist harder and chuckles. “she can’t talk with her mouth full. she’s being a lady”.

juyeon smirks and glances down at you trying to suck him as far as you could possibly reach. “is that true? you’re trying to be polite?”.

yeonjun smirks and licks another stripe up your wet swollen clit before chiming in. “if so, shes at the wrong place. polite prissy princesses don’t get fucked and sucked this good”.

hyunjin slams a hand down on your ass, making it jiggle underneath his palm. “they sure don’t”. you groan against juyeon’s length feeling like you could pass out any second. he thrusted himself between your lips steadily loving the sloppy, messy sounds your mouth was making in the process.

“look at you...you suck dick and take it good. who taught you this?”. juyeon growls.

you softly whine, crying in response. numerous moans left your throat but it was a mystery on whether or not they’d actually be heard. it didn’t even matter though because all three of them was groaning loud enough to drown out the sound of yours. you felt like you were going to lose your damn mind being used like this. the pleasure of it all made your toes curl and body shiver. yeonjun’s wet lips were coated in nothing but you precum at this point and hyunjin speeds up the movements of his waist, snapping into you like he’d never get a chance to do it again. well, considering the system of the whorehouse he just might not. and he was making it evident.

“fuck, your pretty ass”. hyunjin groans while throwing his head back and biting his lips, slamming you back against his waist every chance he got. your ass was pretty like this, stemming down from your cinched waist it was plump and perfect from this angle. hyunjin thought he could watch it bounce against him all day if he could. you unintentionally pushed back on him leaving a hum of approval sputtering from him lips. “oh shit”. he grumbled.

“she’s fucking you while riding yeonjun’s face. shit, I like her”. juyeon licks his lips while holding your hair in up a makeshift ponytail. tears jerk from your eyes as he shoves his dick down your throat again before pulling it back out. you gagged enough to spit his precum back over his tip.

“I like her too”. hyunjin mentions, completely stopping his hips just to watch you desperately fuck yourself to an orgasm. a throaty groan became a murmur as your legs trembled and the familiar wave of electricity washed over your whole entire body. you didn’t know how much more you could take.

“she’s pulsating so hard around my tongue I think she’s about to cum”.

“she’s so cute look at her fucking herself. you gonna cream all over us baby?”. hyunjin groans.

your high pitched whine rang through the steamy atmosphere and as if your body listened to hyunjin words you did just that, your juices spilling down his thighs and waterfalls down yeonjun’s chin. hyunjin slips his fingers into the curve of your waist and fucks a bit more until your ass was filled with his cum, and the sticky contents of juyeons fluids were already slithering down your throat. your body spasmed and jerk so hard and yeonjun licks the aftershocks out of you before getting up and fucking your throat until he got a fix of his own. he grunts and roughly pulls your hair while he does so, letting his hot cum spill down your throat after he was finished. your limbs felt so weak. you wanted to just stay there and sleep. but unfortunately you had to walk back to your residence hall in this condition. it was fucking worth it though.

after you were freed from the handcuffs you could see the bruised rings on your wrist from them both. “put your clothes back on, go back to your dorm and take care of yourself baby”. yeonjun speaks just before they all vacated the room.

[spilledkauffie]

Game Night

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.2k T/W: fluff A/N: Part 2 of Bingo — a few months later

I am SO SORRY this took me way longer to post than it should have!

Bucky Tag List: @anreeixcobra ❤︎ @tsnelf7 ❤︎ @fandom-princess-forevermore​

It was Friday night, which meant one thing: Game Night. Ever since Yori introduced you at Bingo, you made it a tradition in your relationship to play board games on Fridays. For the most part you kept it to fairly modern games, but tonight was going to be a surprise.

Tonight it was your place, 8 o’clock. Bucky showed up with a six pack of root-beer in glass bottles. You added a few to the fridge as he found his usual seat at your apartment table. He waited for you to round the small apartment’s bar and join him. Sliding the glass bottles across the table to Bucky, you smiled, biting in your bottom lip, as he slid your bottle back, now without its top.

Easily he popped the top off his own bottle with his left hand; it was as he was about to take a sip that he caught sight of your look, “what?” he furrowed his eyebrows, questionably. 

“So. . . tonight,” you tried not to giggle.

“What?” Bucky asked again, this time finding himself following your smile despite his will not to.

“Tonight is going to be special,” you clasped your hands together, “because I found some stuff that’s as old as you.”

“Wow, thanks,” Bucky said sarcastically, taking a sip, shaking his head, blinking softly as he saw you rush to convince him it would be fun. Sighing deeply, he gave in, “alright, what is it?”

“I’ll be right back,” you twirled on your heel and left the room.

Returning to shaking his head and the glass bottle, he paused after settling the bottle on the table. It’d been a long time since anyone cared about anything actually as old as him. He’d been pretty good at keeping up with the times, a lot of things he knew just got an upgrade, but the thought of something from his actual childhood felt a little heartwarming. 

“Okay,” you declared, reentering the room with a stack of vintage boxes in your arms that made Bucky lean back in his chair out of shock, “here we are.” 

His jaw dropped a little at what you had brought out as you set the stack on the table. Watching you take a deep breath and exhale with a smirk, he shook his head, this time silently asking “how?” You set your hands atop the stack, rapping your fingers across the top box as you smiled again. 

Smoothing your hands out across the box top, you cleared your throat, “no peeking,”  bringing Bucky’s attention entirely to you. 

“Option number one,” you held up the rectangular shape with severely faded letters across it, “Scrabble, released 1938.” The box very gently met the table, “option number two,” you looked at him attempting not to giggle as you saw him cross his arms over his chest, genuinely listening to you intently, “Sorry! released 1934, Battleship, original pen and paper game,” you clarified, he lifted his eyebrows, impressed, “and last but not least, Monopoly, released 1935.”

“Wow, you uh- you really did your research,” he commented, looking over the stack of authentically vintage boxes.

“Of course,” you shrugged with a smile, “my boyfriend’s 106, if I want to bring back some childhood nostalgia, that requires some research. . . and late hour ebay bidding in our case.”  

He nodded, a faint smile showing, before it faded with his next words, “I hope you didn’t do too much research on me,” he looked up, hand resting on Monopoly.

You calmly slid down into the seat across from him and stared with a kind smile still on your lips, reaching to touch his hand, you stroked your thumb against his knuckles, “I’m more of a first hand account, direct source, kind of girl when it comes to people,” the corner of his mouth tugged into a smile. 

You knew, just not everything, and he wasn’t sure he was prepared to have another living soul know it all quite yet. Luckily, you were someone who seemed to actually understand that.

“Or,” you announced, lifting a pointer finger, as if requesting a pause whilst you went to a nearby drawer, returning with a much smaller box, “we can get really really old school, even for you” the box met the table top, “standard 52 card deck, English edition, circa 1516. . .obviously not original.”

Bucky chuckled, looking to you, tonguing his cheek, before picking up the cards, “I hate to tell you, but that’s just a little before my time,” he squinted at you, teasingly.

Biting your lip, your shoulders shifted with the giggle that came after his comment, “so, come on,” you sat back down, this time with your elbows on the table and hands laced, to support your resting chin on top of them, “what should I beat your butt in?”

“Oh,” Bucky, attempting to appear insulted, began raising his eyebrows, “you think?”

“Yeah,” you laughed your words while looking at his serious face, “I think, better yet, I know.”

“Well, I don’t know where you get your confidence from. You know you are talking to a local senior Bingo night champion,” he shrugged with a head tilt, as if that was supposed to be a big deal.

“Woooow,” you drew out, smiling uncontrollably.

“But,” he sighed, “okay,” he shook his head once, accepting your challenge, “let’s go, you’re on! Monopoly,” he brought the box towards himself as you set the others on the floor next to your chair.

You watched as he picked up the little metal pieces, examining each one individually. There was an expression you’d never seen before, he was remembering something positive from his past. A memory that sparked a smile that you helped bring about. He surveyed the board, with all its bright colours and familiar street names.

“It’s been-” he paused, looking upward, doing the math in his head, “it’s been 85 years since I played this game,” setting each piece he stopped at the boat, laughing to himself, “you know, Steve used to always be the battleship.” 

A soft smile came across your lips, while you watched him remember exactly how to set it up. You picked the Scottie dog and he picked the vintage race car piece.

“Were you always the race car?” you ventured, wanting to know more about his childhood, you knew he didn’t talk about it often.

“Oh,” he glanced to the piece he had just naturally picked up without a thought, “yeah, well, I think,” he gave a quick, but somber smile, before clearing his throat, and actually looking up, “and my sister, whenever she’d actually manage to get mom and dad to let her stay up with us, she’d always be the thimble,” he leaned back in his chair, smiling, “whenever it was her turn to move she’d put it on her finger and hop it down the street names.” He leaned back to the table, “we never made her go to jail, even if she landed on it, Steve would make up some rule that let her skip it.” 

“That’s really sweet of you guys,” you said, looking softly at his smile.

“Yeah,” he swallowed, “but don’t think you can skip jail,” he changed his tone, preferring not to dwell on the past even if it was positive. 

“Don’t think I’ll be visiting,” you smirk confidently, “better watch out for the money man yourself.” 

“Wow, who is this?” he dropped his jaw, “she’s so sarcastic, does Yori know this side of you? Do you sneak jellybeans under the table or something evil like that?”

Laughing, you took your root-beer, “just give me my $1,500 so the smack down can actually begin.”

Two hours later, after a long battle between Boardwalk, control over the railroads, and many, many visits to jail, you sat back, lips quirked, arms across your chest as your little Scottie sat in jail.

“And three thousand, six hundred, and five. . . I’m sorry, but that leaves you,” Bucky set his elbows on the table, wincing at you, “bankrupt.”

“Fine,” you huffed jokingly, giving your best pout,“you win.”

“Aww, c’mon,” Bucky reached out a hand to touch your forearm comfortingly, accompanied by a smile you couldn’t deny.

“You wanna go again?” You offered seriously, resting your hand on top of his tenderly, happy to see him so happy.

“It was really fun, but let’s play something else, this time you pick,” he offered.

Breaking into a smile, you gave a nod, and he asked what you had in mind. It took a moment, you wanted to make this good, and you wanted to see it be a little more of a struggle for him, if you were honest. 

“You know, I know it’s later than your. . .original timeline, but there’s this fantastic game called Twister,” you smirked, perking an eyebrow to ask if he was up for it. 

“Twister?” He repeated you, tilting his head like a confused puppy, “what’s Twister?”

“I’ll show you, but,” you glanced over to your small apartment living room, “we might need to arrange the furniture a little.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky stood, “I can handle that.” 

Smiling, you stand, “okay, just push it all to one side, I’ll get the game.” 

Ten minutes later, shoeless, you both stood looking over the polka dotted sheet on the floor. Nodding happily to yourself, Bucky shook his head almost in fear. 

“Make sense?” You asked, having just explained the very simple rules, you turned to face him.

“Oh, I’m sorry I asked,” he sighed, shouldering off his jacket and tossing it onto the couch along with his glove, “yeah, it makes sense,” he set his hands on his hips, pondering this new game intently. 

“Okay, you first,” you held up the spinning arrow, and began.

One hand and foot at a time, sometimes struggling to reach the spinner, but you both made it work pretty well. Having kept to one side of the sheet, it came time to get a smidge more twisted.

Bucky managed to keep balanced and spin a green dot with his left arm, conveniently it placed him right over you. As he began to reach for green, he carefully calculated how best to approach the green dot in order to keep his balance. It was a pretty far reach and he’d need to balance himself whilst reaching over you. 

“What’s the matter old man, can’t quite move like you used to?” you shamelessly giggled. 

Raising his eyebrows at your tone, “ohhh, wow,” Bucky said sincerely, finally placing his left arm over you and to a green dot, now above you he tilted his head sassily, “respect your elders.”

His last sentence only made your giggle turn into a genuine laugh. You closed your eyes and threw your head back a little. Admittedly, Bucky thought it was funny too, but he didn’t laugh, he just took in your smile and the sound of your laugh, enjoying every single moment of it.

When you brought your head back up, you were about to respond sassily, but instead you found his lips meeting yours. With a small squeak of surprise, you relaxed into the kiss, glad that he was finally confident enough with you to take a chance now and then. He tasted like vanilla root beer, which mixed wonderfully with the scent of his cologne you were finally close enough to smell. 

It was soft and slow at first, but slowly, with his right hand palming the arch of your back, you eased into his touch, lower back almost meeting the floor as you both sunk down a little. You completely forgot about the game, as you reached your arms around his neck gently. Keeping the kiss close, you felt him hesitate to deepen it, so you gave him a small sign of encouragement, by moving your hand to the side of his neck, naturally bringing him even closer. 

You had no idea how long you’d been there, on that polka dot sheet, but it was such bliss that you didn’t even care. Smiling into the kiss, you felt him smile back. 

Parting, he pressed his forehead to yours, “I win,” he whispered, lips in a smile. 

“What?” was all you could ask, still mesmerised by the kiss. 

Bucky motioned his head to his left arm which happened to have been keeping the two of you steady. . . all the while remaining on the green dot. You dropped your arms from around his neck, to the floor, elbows supporting you as you looked up at him, shaking your head. 

“That does not count, Bucky,” you tried not to smile as he kept his arm as still as possible.

“What? But my hand’s still on green,” he dramatically gestured to it, making you bite your lip to repress a giggle, trying to match his seriousness.

Shoving his chest directly above you, he feigned an ‘ow!’ before you softly pull him closer again.

“If I kiss you are you gonna hit me again?”

You smirk, “I might if you don’t.” 

Bucky smiled, lips almost touching yours, “alright, sorry,” he smiled, voice almost a whisper as his lips brushed against yours, “I’m still learning the rules to this game.”

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Star Wars Wednesday

(This is an excerpt from my unfinished but fully outlined Reign of Vader fic, in which Darth Vader assassinates Palpatine and then finds out that unfortunately this means he actually has to rule. After Luke is captured by the Empire, Vader reveals both his heritage and a desire to fix things in the galaxy. Luke is wary, but it's not like he has anywhere to go)

Darth Vader was not a man of infinite patience, and the Ruling Council was growing ever nearer to discovering the limits of his tolerance. 

"Day-to-day procedures are a delicate matter, Majesty," Greejatus was saying, "It would be an unprecedented disaster to force change upon all offices all at once. May I recommend a gradual shift as your reign takes root?"

"Yes yes," Sate Pesage agreed. His eyes glittered out of his gaunt face with ambition. "This proposal to outlaw slavery, for instance-"

"-Is non-negotiable," Vader interrupted. "It was an idiot's decision to legalize it in the first place. My empire will have no need of slave labor."

"Of course!" Pesage bowed. He was beginning to sweat under that ridiculous hat of his. "We are eager to begin this journey into the future your reign promises, Majesty. But the galaxy is vast. Perhaps it is best to...phase the law in slowly? It takes time to bring new ordinances all the way to the Outer Rim."

Vader had heard quite enough for one day. 

"Enough. The decree goes into effect tonight." 

He stood, and all five members of the Council jumped a little. 

"You have until then to review the revised legal codes I have provided for you."

[[MORE]]

With a sardonic lilt to his voice, he added, "The rule of the Grand Vizier through the Moffs has ended, gentlemen. If you do not feel that you are adequately prepared for the task ahead, I will accept your resignation and begin the process of finding your successor."

He waved a hand. "In the next week, we begin hearings for the Alderaanian Massacre. You are dismissed."

There was a certain satisfaction in watching Palpatine's five advisers bowing and trembling on their way out. After decades of putting up with their snide comments and inane commands, it was nice to see the shoe on the other foot for a change.

Of course, they hadn't covered much. Just an overview of what the Imperial Ruling Council actually did. Once Vader mentioned that he intended to sell his secondary residence in the district and distribute the funds as reparations, the meeting had devolved into excuses and protests for the next two hours. Luckily, he was far too stubborn to pay any attention to their complaints.

While he had no strong feelings about most of his actions in the last nineteen years, neither hatred nor regret, he was willing to acknowledge that not all of his targets had been legitimate in a military sense. For Padme's sake, he would make amends if possible. 

Naturally, it was uncomfortable to try putting a price on life. But the sale of that ridiculous "castle" Palpatine insisted on him staying in would provide a good starting place.

It took about fifteen minutes of calculating, but ultimately Vader decided there was more than enough in Palpatine's personal accounts to cover about 17,000 wrongful death settlements, with additional funds in the cases of recurring medical bills. 

Arranging reparations for Alderaan would take more work. Vader quickly decided he was going to delegate that to the department of finances.

(They...did have a department of finances, didn't they? Surely Sidious hadn't done his own bookkeeping.)

With that settled, Vader's itinerary consisted primarily of a meeting with the Hands to make sure they knew their boundaries. After that, a remote consultation with a newly-renowned surgeon living in one of the lower districts. It would, unfortunately, take up the majority of the day. But for now, at least, he had two hours to himself.

The emperor closed his eyes and stretched out with his senses. It took several seconds before he was able to pinpoint his son's location. Luke's presence was dimmed, slightly. Muffled.

The reason for this became apparent the moment Vader found him.

Inside the library, on the lower level, Luke was sprawled across one of the ridiculous armchairs the nobles had favored. A book lay open on his chest, rising and falling gently. A small stack of texts encompassing everything from speeder repair to adventure novels sat on the floor, just next to where one of Luke's hands dangled off the edge of the arm rest. Clearly, he had been in the library for several hours before falling asleep. 

Sleep had softened the boy's features, painting him in a far more vulnerable light. The fear and caution of the previous night had been wiped away, leaving someone who seemed far too young, and far too small. How could he be twenty? How could Padme's baby already be twenty? 

It was tempting to leave him there. To let him sleep. But the chair was not the most supportive frame, nor was the library the most secure chamber of the palace. Reluctantly, Vader bent to touch Luke's cheek. 

"Luke," he said quietly, "This is hardly an appropriate place to sleep."

Luke's eyelids fluttered, but he did not fully awaken at once. Carefully, ever so carefully, Vader took hold of Luke's shoulders and guided him back into an upright position. 

"Your spine will thank me later," he said. 

Luke shifted, then opened his eyes with a groan. He didn’t seem to register Vader’s presence at first. One arm stretched up over his head, and the other came up to rub at his eyes.

“What time is it?” he yawned.

“Nearly noon,” answered Vader. The meeting with the Council had taken far longer than he would’ve liked. “Are you hungry?”

With a garbled sound, Luke waved a hand from side to side. “Don’t know yet?” he said in a still sleep-slurred voice.

After a few more seconds, he finally noticed just who had woken him. Instinctively, he straightened his spine, and looked a little bit nervous.

“Oh,” he said, very quietly. “H-hello, Father.”

“Hello, son.” Vader sounded amused. “Was your choice of reading that dull?”

After a moment, Luke nodded. He made a face. "I know there's supposed to be a famous musical made from this or something. But a whole chapter on how the sewer system of Ryloth's capital city works doesn't seem like good song material."

He jumped when Vader laughed. It was a warm, rich sound, utterly at odds with his austere appearance. 

"Poor boy!" He gently took the book from his son. "That was required reading for our literature studies when I was a boy. I loathed it. Very few of my peers sought it out voluntarily."

"I guess I can see why," Luke admitted. "But it seemed like it was going to be a good story."

"Then you are better served finding an abridged copy, I think," Vader chuckled. "Come. You should eat something."

Luke pushed himself up out of the chair. “Do I...need to put the books back?”

Vader leaned back on his heels. He looked at the books, then at the shelves. “I...will leave that to your best judgement. I do not know where you got them from.”

It was such a normal sounding conversation! Why?! 

Why did you have to be like...like this?! Luke fought a surprising burst of frustration. I have no idea how to talk to you! 

Serious and formal one moment, then laughing the next? Vader? Laughing?! It was as if the man he’d met on Cymoon and the man idly examining his stack of books were two completely different people.

Luke set the books on the console with the Holonet terminal eventually. Vader had suggested that he learn the cataloguing system of the room at a later time. At least that seemed to mean that he would be allowed to go back to the library again. Luke thought about his conversation with Artoo. Perhaps his father was trying to be kind to him. Whether that kindness would extend to anyone else was a different matter.

“I thought you were still meeting with dignitaries or something,” Luke said.

He trailed along behind Vader up an ornate staircase with his hands in his pockets. He was still uncomfortable walking too closely to the man. For all that he acknowledged that the new emperor was, indeed, his father, he was still a force to be reckoned with. 

Luke took a moment to internally groan at his unintended pun. Han would probably have elbowed him in the ribs for saying something like that. Chewie would think it was hilarious. 

Luke’s attempt to stay safely out of range failed quite suddenly. Vader deliberately slowed his steps so that Luke couldn’t hang back without being extremely obvious about it. He didn’t want to offend the emperor, so he tried to ignore his fight or flight instincts shaking his insides and kept pace with his father.

“I have several more meetings to endure today,” Vader said casually. “But the most onerous of those has been dealt with.”

This was not quite true. The Ruling Council was too full of Palpatine loyalists. Just intimidating them into compliance would only work for so long. They had connections, and they had money, and that could prove to be a headache if not dealt with sooner. Vader needed to replace at least three of them.

He had almost considered appointing Luke as Vizier in Amedda’s place, but had quickly thought better of it. Such a position would almost guarantee that Luke would never have time to fly again. Cutting a Skywalker off from the stars for good seemed too cruel. 

His son had not had the childhood he could have had if his mother had lived. If Palpatine had died much sooner. Let him enjoy his youth while he could.

But the problem of finding a Ruling Council that Vader could trust would still be waiting.

“The stupid hat club, right?” Luke asked.

He was unsettled by Vader’s proximity. Vader could sense that. He understood: the armor had been made to terrify. Perhaps one day he would have the option of seeing his son with his own eyes, but for now the boy would have to acclimate himself to the sight.

It was not often that Vader found himself cursing the cold, impersonal nature of his mask. He would have liked to smile at his son.

“Yes. The...stupid hat club.” He settled for letting his amusement be clearly heard in his voice. “That is not an inaccurate description. They run the day-to-day matters of ruling an Empire. But as they were all close to the former ruler, I find that I’d rather not trust them in matters of delegating governance.”

Luke grimaced. “That doesn’t sound like a good idea,” he agreed.

[ragingbookdragon]

The Start of Something Great

Outlaws x Tamaranean!Reader

Word Count: 2.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Violence and Past Abuse

Author's Note: So this is technically the start of all those One-Shots with the T!Reader. In order, they are the one you're reading right now, then this one, this one, and this one. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She watched the group socialize from her position in the corner; she’d never been out and open like Kori was. She’d always preferred to watch in silence, to observe…the years she spent captive, formed her mindset of watching and waiting for moments of weakness. Speaking of Kori, she watched her step into the room with Dick; their hands tightly clasped together.

Fighting a laugh, she glanced out the window, turning her attention to the waves as they crashed against the rocks below the tower. She wondered why she was here. She wasn’t a part of the Titans…not really. Her animosity towards leniency on justice put her at odds with just about everyone within the group, and especially the Justice League. Well, except for Diana; the Amazon was the only one who truly understood her reasoning.

But as for letting criminals go free? It didn’t happen. Rarely ever, did (Y/N) allow a criminal to walk away from her, and her mind drifted to the memory of her first mission with the Titans.

***

She stepped out of the smoldering hole in the warehouse wall and strode to the criminal crawling from her. Placing her foot square between his pelvis and spine, she stepped down with all her strength and listened to his spine crack under the strain. He let out a bloodcurdling scream and she rolled him over with her foot, glaring down at him, watching as he begged.

“Please!”

A white hot star-bolt formed in her hand and she raised it, speaking coldly. “The women you assaulted and killed did not want to die either.”

The man began to cry as she flung the bolt, watching his body incinerate, and turn to ash; she turned and began walking away, ignoring the concerned look from her sister, and the angry looks from her teammates.

They hadn’t even gotten five feet into the tower when Dick was on her like a beast to a fresh kill. “What the hell was that, (Y/N)?”

She glowered, warning him darkly, “Watch how you speak to me, Richard. I am not Kori. And you should believe me when I tell you that what I feel for you is nothing short of loathing. And loathing is quick to turn deadly should I be pushed.” (Y/N) turned to leave when he moved in front of her again.

“It doesn’t matter what you feel! You owe us an explanation!” He shot back.

She barked a cold laugh. “I owe you nothing, least of all an explanation.”

“You murdered him!”

(Y/N) narrowed her gaze. “And the point you are trying to make is?”

Dick threw his hands into the air. “It was wrong!”

“Was what he did to those innocent women also wrong?” she countered and he all but recoiled.

“Of course! But that doesn’t—”

“But nothing. He was a despicable criminal, and he deserved to die for his crimes.” (Y/N) turned around and began walking to the door.

“We aren’t executioners, Kiyahnd’r.” Dick admonished.

She froze in her spot and glanced over her shoulder, her eyes frosty towards them. “Perhaps not you, Richard. But you were not raped and beaten repeatedly as a young child.” Her gaze narrowed. “My justice is absolute in the face people who do the same thing that was done to me and my sisters. Never forget that.”

***

(Y/N) blinked, dragging herself from the memory; it hadn’t been long after that, that she found herself tangled in combat with the Justice League. Apparently, she had held out against them far longer than anyone ever had, managing to overpower The Flash and Martian Manhunter. She had almost defeated Batman when Wonder Woman and Superman intervened, subduing her. That was a fun day for (Y/N), and she remembered how Batman had made her concede killing people…mostly anyway.

The years had been decent to her and she came to terms with her life, even branching out into modeling like Kori did. They ruled the runways. But the “lone wolf” style she’d developed while in captivity still ruled her, and she found it increasingly hard to keep continuing the team. They had all gathered in the room, and she rose from her seat.

Immediately, the talking stopped as everyone turned to stare at her; Dick smiled at her from his seat, Kori perched herself across his thighs. “You alright, (Y/N)?” She met his eyes before moving to the table and setting down a small metal piece. It clinked and their eyes moved to it, as Dick questioned, “What’s that?”

“You know what it is, Richard.”

He glanced over, looking at the item, and took in the realization of what it was. “Your key to the tower?”

(Y/N) nodded. “As of now, I formally relinquish my role as a Titan.” Ignoring the shocked gasps and stares, she continued. “I will be leaving at dusk.” (Y/N) made her way to the door. “Thank you…and goodbye.” She didn’t wait for their replies, moving to her bedroom.

She closed the door and sat beside the window, occasionally glancing at her packed bag. (Y/N) had money saved up over the years, from odd jobs to her professional modeling career worldwide and she still had big money rolling into her bank account from other various sources. She would be alright; she just needed to find a place to live on her own and thrive.

A knock tore her from her thoughts, and she turned to the door. “Enter.” In walked Kori and Dick, and she sighed knowingly. “Delivering the parting words?”

“Kiyahnd’r…are you sure you want to leave?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Very.”

They sat down on her bed, a couple feet away, and Dick leaned forward. “You don’t have to leave, (Y/N).”

“I am aware,” she noted. “but this is something that I want to do.”

“Why Kiyahnd’r?”

(Y/N)’s eyes flitted to Kori. “Because this is not where I belong.”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N). You—”

She raised a hand. “Do not try and cushion the blow, Richard.” She rose and stared out the window. “It has been plain to see all these years that you all will never trust me.” (Y/N) glanced at Dick. “Or accept me onto your team.”

Dick went silent, and Kori nudged him. “Say something.”

“What do you want me to say? She’s kinda right.”

“Dick!”

(Y/N) stopped Kori. “Do not be angry at him, Koriand’r. Richard is right.” She paused. “I am not you Koriand’r…I allow my past to define how I live my life.” Her eyes moved to her sister’s, and a hint of sorrow crossed her tone. “I cannot let go of our pasts. It will haunt me forever, and I need to find my own path…away from this place.”

The two of them went silent, then Dick said, “If you don’t have anywhere to go…Jason’s been in need of a partner lately.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “That moronic imbecile? Certainly not.”

Dick snickered as Kori sighed. “Jason is not stupid, sister.”

“Truly? There have been a few times where he has fooled me.”

Kori sighed again, as Dick rose from the bed, moving to (Y/N). “Look…I know you think I don’t like you—”

“You do not like me.”

Dick rolled his eyes and corrected, “Wrong, Miss Know-It-All. I happen to like you very much. In fact—”

(Y/N) cut him off, turning to Kori. “Be cautious sister, you apparently have competition for Richard’s affections.” Kori and (Y/N) giggled as Dick raised his hands in exasperation.

He marched to the door with them still raised. “I give up! I came in here to wish you goodbye and good luck, and this is what I receive!” He was almost out the door when (Y/N) pulled him back, spinning him around to pull him in for a brief but heartfelt hug.

She pulled away and glanced at him. “For all you have done for me…and for all the times you have tried to help me…thank you, Richard.”

He grinned up at her and squeezed her round her middle. “See…you love me after all.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and picked up her bags. “Do not push it Dick. You still anger me.”

“You aren’t the first person to tell me that.” Dick shrugged.

She snorted and moved to the door, stopping and glancing at them. “And I most certainly will not be the last.”

***

The flight to Gotham City was quiet, and she remembered the first time she arrived.

***

The portal opened and she fell through it, still fighting off the Psions who followed her. They crash-landed into a building, and the rubble was lit up like the sun as she threw star-bolts at them. The fighting lasted for a few minutes, and in the end, she stood victorious among the scattered body parts. Her mind raced as she tried to remember where her sister had gone, and the next thing she realized, a Psion was on her back.

She cursed in her native tongue as it clawed at her, and gathered energy into her palm to kill it when it flew off her, landing a good distance away. She rolled to her side and coughed; a hand appeared in her vision, and she looked up to see a man in black standing over her.

His lips moved, and she knew words were coming out, but it sounded like gibberish. The hand extended towards her more, and she took it, allowing him to help her stand. He kept speaking and she rolled her eyes, reaching out and grabbing his face; she brought their lips together, and words and languages flowed through her mind.

She released him and he simply gaped at her, too stunned to move; she snorted. “Apologies. My race learns by psychophysically connecting with one another. The most effective way is through oral contact.”

“…You just learned to speak English from kissing me?”

She nodded. “Is that what you call it? English? What a strange name it is.” The corner of his mouth rose, and she stood up straight. “I am Kiyahnd’r of…well…it does not matter.” She paused. “My name is Kiyahnd’r.”

He nodded. “I’m Batman.”

***

(Y/N) felt the corners of her mouth raise at the memory; it had been a very long time since she’d thought about it, and it reminded her of how lucky she’d been to learn the languages from Bruce. Kori only received a small amount from Dick; (Y/N) had received twenty-three different dialects, all fluently. The fleeting memories lasted only so long, and the plane began to ascend, signaling her arrival.

She stepped off of the plane and made her way to the baggage claim, picking up her bag and moving to the doors when she saw a familiar man. (Y/N) stared as he walked towards her.

He stopped in front of her and smirked. “Need a ride, doll?”

She rolled her eyes. “Dick called you then.”

“Called a few hours ago saying you were leaving the Titans and coming to find me and Roy.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “I was coming to Gotham. I was not coming to see the both of you.” She glared at him.

“Sticks and stones, (Y/N).”

“Go crawl into a bush, Jason.”

His hand curled around the handle of her suitcase and he lifted it, nodding his head to the door. “Car’s outside.” Jason moved forward, and (Y/N) was left with no choice but to follow him. She watched as he put her suitcase in the trunk, then turned to her. “You hungry?”

“Are you going to cook?”

Jason paused as he was getting in the driver’s door; he looked at her, an eyebrow raised. “Do you want me to cook?”

She moved to sit in the passenger seat. “So long as you make something good.”

He grinned as he sat in the seat, starting the car. “I always make good food.”

(Y/N) let out a ‘hmpf’. “We shall see.”

***

The drive to his apartment was slow and when they arrived, the sun was setting low beyond the skyline. They climbed the stairs and entered his apartment; (Y/N) hummed. “I wasn’t sure that your apartment would be as tidy as it is. It is rather shocking.”

Jason grunted as he moved into the kitchen, pulling out pans from the cabinets. “Sorry doll, the role of messy Robin is Tim.” He paused and glanced at her. “And sometimes, Dick…but mostly Timmy.”

(Y/N) snorted and motioned to her bag. “Where should I put my things?”

Jason nodded down the hallway. “Second door on your right. I changed the sheets and cleaned it, so you should be happy.”

She said nothing and walked to the bedroom. It was a little dull for her tastes, but nothing she couldn’t fix with a trip to the department store and IKEA. She walked back out and sat at the bar, watching Jason cook for them. When he was finished, they sat out on the balcony sharing a bottle of wine.

(Y/N) swallowed it, gagging, “Earth wine is disgusting.”

“Wine’s a peculiar taste,” he snorted, taking a sip. “You have to get used to it.”

She grunted and replied, “I do not want to be used to it. It tastes like…I do not even know what it tastes like. All I know is that it is disgusting.”

“You’re just a Debbie-Downer, aren’t you, (Y/N)?”

“I do not know what that is but I can tell it is not positive.”

“Nevermind.” Jason chuckled and they lapsed into a comfortable silence, eating their dinner, and when they were finished, they climbed to the roof and watched the stars; Jason leaned over. “So, why did you leave the Titans?”

(Y/N) sighed quietly, murmuring, “I did not want to be within their company any longer.”

He eyed her. “And?”

“And I did not want to be ostracized anymore.” (Y/N) inhaled. “I am not Kori. She was accepted easily within the Titans because she is kind and sweet. But I? No…I was never one to be accepted. My attitude and stance on how I deal with criminals was not something the Titans were too keen on keeping.”

Jason listened silently, then tipped his head. “Dick told you to come find me then?”

She shrugged. “More or less.” (Y/N) glanced at him. “I assume he had an inkling that because we are so similar in our mindsets on criminals that we would get along and be able to work together.”

“Red Hood, Arsenal, and Supernova,” Jason grinned. “It’s got a great ring to it.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I regret this decision already.”

He scooted closer and slung an arm around her shoulders, ignoring the way she growled low in her throat. “Don’t be like that, doll…we’re gonna make a kick-ass team.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to retort when a light shone in the sky; she glanced at Jason, tipping her head to it. “Well…let us go and show what a team we will make.” She rose, holding out a hand. “Shall we, Red Hood?”

Jason glanced at her hand before taking it, smirking. “Hell yeah.”