#Major Disaster Declaration

[nationallawreview]

Direct Employer Assistance and 401(k) Plan Relief Options for Employees Affected by California Wildfires

In the past week, devastating wildfires in Los Angeles, California, have caused unprecedented destruction across the region, leading to loss of life and displacing tens of thousands. While still ongoing, the fires already have the potential to be the worst natural disaster in United States history. Quick Hits Employers can assist employees affected by the Los Angeles wildfires through qualified…

[devils-yui]

Reposting this from a friend bc I think it is VERY important to know of this, and for immigrants, and other possible victims of the ICE Raids happening right now

Here’s to also a very huge edit, from the list of very helpful people who have been reblogging and providing more info.

I’m not as well informed but I will be relaying the information and tagging each person who added onto this post:

@onthedriftinthetardis -

The phone number in the first photo is ONLY for Orange County, California!

Look up your local ACLU affiliate here

@6feetunderwater -

It always makes me nervous to see a reporting phone number passed around without any links to verify it, so the number in the first pic can be found on the site for the Orange County Rapid Response Network, which is "an interconnected system of non-profit and grassroots organizations, civil rights attorneys, law school clinics, and individuals working together to respond to dehumanizing immigration enforcement activities and policies in Orange County"

@geekerypeekery -

The second warrant is not fake, but is an administrative rather than judicial warrant, and has no constitutional authority to bypass Fourth Amendment protections - in other words, it does not entitle the bearer to enter and search your home. It simply authorizes agents of the issuing department to contact you. Always ask to see the warrant before opening your door!

In addition to the ACLU links, try contacting the National Immigration Law Center https://www.nilc.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Warrants-Subpoenas-Facts.pdf

@american-anger -

The phone number listed here is specific to Orange County in California, but you can look up other California counties here:

CALIFORNIA RAPID RESPONSE NETWORKS

@beaniebaneenie -

Unpleasant reminder: within 100 miles of the border (which is home to 200 million people and virtually all major cities in the US), ICE does not need a warrant to enter your home, your car, to search anything, or even to arrest you.

You are not automatically safe just because they don't have a real warrant.

The best and safest thing you can do is learn to have escape routes- quick ways to get out of the house or area you're in if you find out ICE or CBP are around. Those of us who do have documentation? Time for us to step the fuck up.

Film any interaction. Every interaction. If you're able, step into the conversation and be a Karen/Kyle- weaponize your privilege for Good. If you get asked about people? Use positive but vague statements so you a) cannot be caught in a lie, and b) do not give any information away.

"I don't know them that well, but I don't tend to socialize much. They seem great to me."

"I can't remember the last time I saw them."

"Maybe they speak another language, I can't remember details. But I picked up Duolingo during the pandemic and tons of other people did too."

"I'm not sure."

"I'm sorry, I can't help you."

Even if you're somewhere the 100-mile Exception doesn't apply and a warrant is in fact needed? I don't expect ICE and CBP to play by the rules for long, if at all. I fully expect this to get ugly, and fast.

Cheeto has already declared an emergency of national security at the border, and is mobilizing the military to have jurisdiction over a huge swath of the country. It's essentially tantamount to martial law. And it's only been four days.

Gear up for a long, hard fight. This is gonna be a marathon, not a sprint.

— I am leaving all of this as an edit because on the off chance someone does find the posts that have these people specifically reblogging, I don’t want it to be too late. So I’m comprising it all here

Here are a few other people’s reblogs I thought were important:

Thank you @onthedriftinthetardis @6feetunderwater @geekerypeekery @american-anger @beaniebaneenie @bunnychiffon @dubiouslynamed @trisockatops @witchy-disaster for contributing and helping me make this a more well-informed post. Thank you so much

[risestarkiss]

✨The Fashionista✨

Rise Ramblings #234

While watching “The Clothes Don’t Make The Turtle,” I noticed something.

I found it interesting that Raph, Mikey, and Leo were content with Raph’s outfit choice until Donnie stated that he wasn’t “in love with it, ya’ know.”

Suddenly, Raph declares “I’m a disaster!” Albeit ridiculously endearing, it was a little strange to see his sudden shift from moderately content to absolute dissatisfaction. Huh…

Then, the disaster twins decide to help him out.

Take a note of their outfit choices.

Raph tries on all of these fits and more.

Donnie’s first choice is a mild “no.” Leo’s choice is a hard “NO.” (Not surprising, lol.) But then, the overwhelming consensus lands on Raph’s fourth outfit, which ended up being Donatello’s other pick for his brother.

So, in summary, Raph tried on his personal choice for an outfit, of which they rejected. Then, ultimately, Donatello picked out an outfit for his brother, and that pick ended up being perfect. Hmm…

Then I noticed something else. In this episode, we never get a Donnie “curtain reveal” moment, to our disdain. I mean, Raph, Leo, and Mikey got to try on several different outfits in order to get their brothers' opinions before landing on that “perfect outfit, you know the one.” All of his brothers got to shine. Why not DonTron?

Then it hit me.

The try-ons were to get their brothers' opinions and approval. And, for his brothers' choices, he was a major contributor in assisting them in pulling their looks together.

What if, bear with me, Donnie didn’t need the "curtain scene" because he was so confident in his fashion sense that he didn’t need to ask his brothers for help to pick out a great look.

…or they figured out how to break Hypno’s spell before he could get a “curtain reveal.” BUT STILL-

Look at his outfit choices in this episode. Some of his wardrobe changes were off-screen, but all of them were fire.

(I added the baseball cap pic because it makes me happy. I wish we'd seen more of that fit.)

To me, he makes some really smart choices for himself, pushing the envelope of what is expected and taking chances: an open collar with no tie for a “black tie” event, a beanie and spiked wristbands for their “gansta look,” no socks with loafers (a viral fashion trend that actually began in Africa) with old man slacks in his reclined pose. *muah* Chef’s kiss!

But Don’s fashion sense doesn’t just shine in this episode.

In “Reparin’ the Baron” the boys go to Draxum’s apartment. Leo and Donnie show up in some extra nice “Sunday Dinner” twin drip.

The gold is in the details. Everything Leo is wearing, Donnie rocks its compliment: for Leo’s round collar, Donnie’s is angled, for Leo’s blue shirt, Donnie’s is white, For Leo’s light slacks, Donnie’s are dark. Blah blah blah. It’s so good!

Look at the winter fit in Snow Day.

Again, Donnie is Leo’s perfect compliment. As a pair? Fire.

Donnie has “the eye.” I can go on and on with examples, but I’ve said all of that to say this…

In the future, we see that Donatello’s technology had major pull in the resistance. He had drone ships patrolling the skies. He built and designed Leo’s arm, Casey’s chainsaw-hockey stick, and Casey's mask. The list goes on…

But, when Donatello from the past see’s Casey’s clothing from the future, he says this:

We know about the “Genius Built” brand. We’ve seen that logo on all of his tech up to this point. But, here he didn’t just say “Genius Built.” He said, “Genius Built Apparel.”

“Apparel” is not a tech brand. “Apparel” is a fashion brand. Of course, tech is incorporated into the clothing, but still.

This means that past Donatello secured this trademark with plans of creating a fashion brand, comparable to the likes of Gucci, Ralph Lauren, or any other modern clothing brand, as a subsidiary of “Genius Built,” the tech company.

And why not? The evidence has been in front of us this entire time. He has a sharp eye for style, fashion, and trends. It is easily canon that he can sew. Splinter sewed their ninja garbs in “Insane in the Mama Train,” and there is a sewing machine in the house.

They already learned Ninjutsu through basically osmosis, so learning to sew is not too far-fetched.

And here it is, right in front of us, Casey’s entire ensemble, from mask, to weapons, to clothing, was made by Donatello in the middle of the apocalypse under the brand name “Genius Built Apparel.”

And that was just in the bad future. Resources were limited, they didn’t have access to much of anything in that broken world as they were survivors of a devastating Krang invasion. Yet, he created all of this.

However, now that they’ve changed the future, his future as a fashion designer is limitless. Think of what Donatello could produce with unlimited resources, unlimited technology, and unlimited creative freedom.

Tech genius. Clothing designer. Fashionista. Future Genius Built Apparel Owner and CEO. I’m sorry, but I have to call it...

Donatello Hamato of the present, of the bad future, and of the good future is a fashion icon, the likes of which the world has never seen. ○○○○

Update: I've decided to make this concept into a mini-comic series!

2025 Update:

I've also made this post into a YOUTUBE VIDEO!

Video Preview:

You can check that out →→→ HERE ←←←

○○○○

🎞 YOUTUBE 🎞 | 💚 SEND A SLICE 🍕 | 🎵 BANDCAMP 🎵

[solxamber]

1800-Curse-Control || Lilia Vanrouge

You decide to open a hotline for curing curses with Lilia. It goes exactly how you imagined it would—maybe even a little better.

“Lilia,” you said, rubbing your temples as you leaned against the counter in Ramshackle’s disaster of a kitchen. “Grim’s eating me out of house and home, literally. If I can’t afford the repairs soon, the roof will cave in. But all he cares about is premium tuna! Do you know how much that stuff costs?”

Lilia, who was casually floating upside down for no apparent reason, looked entirely too entertained. “Ah, the plight of a homeowner,” he said, grinning. “Why not turn your misfortune into opportunity? I’ve been told I have exceptional customer service skills, and I’ve been dreadfully bored. Let’s open a hotline for removing curses!”

You blinked at him. “A hotline. For curing curses.”

“Yes, my dear beastie,” he said, flipping upright midair and landing gracefully. “Think about it! This school is crawling with fools who drink unlabeled potions, poke magical artifacts, and anger vengeful spirits just for sport. You’d be rich in a week!”

“…I hate how much sense that actually makes.”

“It’s a foolproof plan,” Lilia continued, already pulling a notepad from somewhere to scribble down ideas. “I’ll handle the exorcisms and the cackling, naturally. You, my dear entrepreneur, can be the charming face of the operation. We’ll call it—hmm—‘Curse-B-Gone.’”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine, ‘Hex Hotline.’”

You considered it. On one hand, it sounded completely ridiculous. On the other hand, there was that third-year who accidentally swapped his voice with a frog’s last week and the freshmen who kept mysteriously sprouting feathers.

“…How much are we charging?”

“Ah-ha! I knew you’d come around!” Lilia said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s see, we’ll need tiers. Minor hex removal? Hundred thaumarks. Major curses—hair-growing hexes, spontaneous transformation curses—those will start at Five Hundred.”

“And what about something, like, really bad? What if someone’s whole body turns into a pumpkin or something?”

“That’s a premium package. One thousand thaumarks.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay, I’m in. But if this flops, you’re buying Grim’s tuna for the next month.”

Lilia smirked, his fangs glinting mischievously. “Deal.”

By the end of the day, you’d set up a magical hotline using some weird orb Lilia “borrowed” from the library, a vaguely threatening poster campaign across the campus (“Cursed? Hexed? A jackal-headed god show up at your dorm? Call us!”), and a suspiciously well-stocked supply of anti-curse materials Lilia claimed were “leftovers” from his youth.

You weren’t sure whether to feel excited or like you’d just signed up for the most bizarre mistake of your life. Either way, you couldn’t wait to see how this would go down.

The orb hotline rang for the first time, glowing ominously on the rickety desk in Ramshackle. You and Lilia exchanged glances.

“Answer it!” he whispered, like this was some spy mission and not a cursed customer service line.

With a deep breath, you picked it up. “Uh… Hello, this is the Cursed and Confused Hotline. How can we—”

“YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Ace’s voice screamed on the other end. “HE’S GOING TO KILL ME THIS TIME!”

You winced, holding the orb away from your ear. “Ace? What happened?”

“I DON’T KNOW! I WAS JUST TRYING TO MAKE TEA!”

“Okay, and?”

“And I might’ve…accidentally used that weird sugar in the Heartslabyul pantry, the one that glows in the dark? And now Riddle’s head is covered in, like…peonies. Big, pink peonies. They keep growing whenever he gets mad, which, uh, is always.”

You slapped your forehead. “You cursed your housewarden?!”

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO!” Ace wailed. “I thought it was sugar, not cursed fertilizer! Look, can you just fix this before he declares ‘off with my head’ for real?”

“Ugh, fine. Where are you now?”

“Hiding in the rose bushes. He hasn’t found me yet, but I think I heard him sharpening a guillotine.”

“Classic Heartslabyul,” Lilia said cheerfully, already packing his so-called emergency kit.

When you and Lilia arrived at Heartslabyul, it was pure chaos. Riddle stood in the center of the garden, his face as red as his hair—and also half-obscured by an explosion of giant pink peonies blooming out of his head like some cursed bouquet.

“TREY!” Riddle bellowed. “GET THE GARDEN SHEARS!”

Ace was crouched in a rose bush nearby, whispering frantically. “Please tell me you brought an anti-cursed-flower spray or something!”

You ignored him and approached Riddle cautiously. “Uh, Riddle? You’ve got—”

“I KNOW WHAT I HAVE!” Riddle shrieked, a few more flowers blooming on his head. “I demand immediate remedy! Or else—”

“We’ll fix it,” Lilia cut in, grinning like this was the most fun he’d had in centuries. “Now, let’s see…” He pulled a vial of glowing liquid from his kit. “This should do the trick.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, eyeing the suspiciously fizzing vial.

“Of course not,” Lilia said, popping it open.

He dumped the liquid over Riddle’s head without warning. The flowers immediately shriveled up and disappeared.

Riddle blinked, touching his head in astonishment. “…It’s gone?”

“You’re welcome,” Lilia said with a dramatic bow.

Ace peeked out from the bushes. “So…he’s not mad anymore, right?”

Riddle’s death glare answered that question.

“RUN!” you yelled, dragging Ace out of the garden as Riddle shouted about punishment for “sugar crimes.”

Back at Ramshackle, you slumped against the desk. “We’re never doing house calls again.”

Lilia just laughed. “Oh, but the drama! I live for it!”

The hotline orb began glowing again, pulsing with a foreboding, bluish light.

You groaned. “If this is Ace again, I swear—”

Lilia waved his hand. “Come now, it’s probably another entertaining disaster! Answer it!”

You reluctantly picked up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What’s your—”

“FIX. THIS. NOW!” came Azul’s shrill, panicked voice.

You blinked. “Azul? What’s—”

“I CAN’T EVEN DESCRIBE WHAT HE’S DONE THIS TIME!”

“Oh, come on, Azul!” Floyd’s voice cut in, cackling in the background. “It’s a masterpiece!”

“Masterpiece?” Azul screeched. “You flooded the dining room and filled it with—WHY ARE THERE EELS IN THE SOUP POTS?”

“Because it’s hilarious!” Floyd howled, clearly having the time of his life.

Jade’s calm voice joined in, oozing politeness as always. “To be fair, Floyd has a point. The eels are thriving in there.”

Azul sputtered like a broken faucet. “THRIVING?! THEY’RE STEALING PEOPLE’S FOOD!”

“Sounds efficient to me,” Floyd said. You could practically hear him smirking. “Dinner and a show!”

Lilia perked up. “Eels in soup pots? How creative!”

“Don’t encourage him!” Azul barked. “Do you know how much it costs to repair the water damage he’s caused? The walls are dripping! The chandelier is dripping! I AM DRIPPING!”

“That’s not cursed,” you said, trying to hide your amusement. “That’s just Floyd being—well, Floyd.”

“Oh, no, it’s cursed,” Azul hissed. “Every time I try to remove the eels, the water level rises. They’re like aquatic squatters! Fix it or I swear I’ll—”

The sound of something massive splashing cut him off, followed by Floyd’s uncontrollable laughter.

“HAHAHA! He slipped into the soup pot! Jade, did you see that?”

“I did,” Jade replied, his voice as smooth as ever. “It was quite elegant.”

“AZUL’S AN EEL NOW!” Floyd cried. “Eel bros for life, baby!”

The orb started vibrating violently.

“Get. Over. Here. Now.” Azul’s voice was barely a whisper, the tone of someone seconds away from an aneurysm.

You sighed and grabbed your bag. “Let’s go before he implodes.”

When you arrived at Mostro Lounge, it was exactly what you expected—and somehow worse. The entire dining area was flooded, eels swam lazily in the soup pots, and Azul was perched on a chair, drenched from head to toe and glaring murderously at Floyd, who was happily paddling through the water like it was his personal playground.

“Finally!” Azul barked, waving his wet hand. “Do something! Anything!”

Floyd, half-submerged in a soup pot, waved at you. “Hey! You wanna join the eel party? First rule—no rules!”

Lilia clapped his hands. “This is magnificent chaos!”

Azul groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’ll double your pay if you fix this immediately.”

You glanced at Lilia, who was already pouring a suspiciously glowing liquid into the water.

“This should work,” he said cheerfully.

The water started to drain, the eels vanished in puffs of smoke, and the room returned to normal—except for Floyd, who now floated upside down in midair, spinning like a cursed top.

“Whoa, this is AWESOME!” Floyd laughed, twirling like a maniac. “I’m a flying eel!”

Azul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as you said “I’m charging you extra for emotional damages.”

The hotline orb flared up again, casting a frantic purple glow. You groaned, mid-sip of tea.

“I don’t know if I can handle more insanity.”

Lilia, perched upside down on the couch, grinned. “Nonsense! Chaos keeps the heart young. Answer it!”

Reluctantly, you picked it up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What did you do, and how bad is it?”

“It’s me! It’s Epel!” came the desperate, whisper-shouted voice of the Pomefiore freshman. “I need your help—immediately! I’ve got the worst curse of all on me.”

“Worst curse?” you asked, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“Vil,” Epel said, voice shaking. “And Rook.”

“...Epel, those are people, not curses.”

“They are when Vil finds out I repurposed his limited-edition face mask jars as apple cider mugs for the guys in Savanaclaw!”

Lilia burst into a delighted cackle. “Oh, that’s fantastic!”

“Not fantastic! Vil’s gonna flay me alive!” Epel hissed. “And Rook’s hunting me down like a rabbit in the woods. Please, ya gotta help!”

You tried not to laugh. “How exactly do you want me to help? I can’t exactly—”

A loud thud echoed through the call, followed by Epel screaming, “He found me! NO! PUT THAT BOW DOWN!”

“Bonjour, my friend~!” Rook’s voice came through, as smooth as velvet and disturbingly cheerful. “Ah, how beautiful the chase! Like a fox cornered by the hounds, our petit pomme has finally been found!”

“ROOK, NO! DON’T HAND ME OVER!”

“Oh, petit lapin,” Rook said, unbothered, “the punishment will only make you stronger. Think of it as a trial by fire!”

“I DON’T WANT TO BE STRONGER, I WANNA BE ALIVE!” Epel shrieked.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Rook, what exactly are you planning to do with him?”

“Ah, worry not,” Rook replied. “I am but a humble messenger delivering him to justice. Vil has been most patient.”

“HE CALLED ME A PEASANT AND THREW A HEEL AT ME, THAT’S PATIENT?” Epel howled.

Lilia leaned forward, thoroughly entertained. “Rook, at least let us have a word with Epel before he meets his doom.”

“But of course!”

“HELP ME!” Epel screamed the moment Rook handed him the phone. “Distract them, hex me, I dunno, CURSE ME INTO A TREE OR SOMETHING—”

“Epel,” you said firmly, trying not to laugh, “you’re going to have to face Vil eventually. What’s the worst he could do?”

“THE WORST? Oh, I dunno, exile me to a skincare bootcamp for the rest of my natural life?”

Rook’s voice floated in. “Imagine it, petit pomme: cleansing facials, detoxifying baths, and no more cider mugs. A new you!”

“YOU STAY OUTTA THIS!”

You sighed. “I can offer one thing.”

“Anything!”

“An apology. I suggest you start practicing now.”

“An apology?! I called Vil’s collection overhyped snake oil. I’m DOOMED!”

“Not if you run fast enough,” Rook chimed in cheerfully. “Shall we test your stamina?”

The call ended with Epel’s scream, followed by the distinct sound of someone bolting at full speed.

“Well,” Lilia said, smiling. “That was worth every second.”

Jamil’s voice crackled through the orb strained and absolutely done.

"Hi, yeah, it’s me again."

You rolled your eyes. "Let me guess. Kalim tried to throw a party?"

"And Cater," Jamil growled, the sound of something crashing in the background. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to manage one chaos gremlin? Now imagine two. They’ve cursed half the dorm—random objects are coming to life, and singing. And I don’t mean pleasant singing. I mean like if a banshee and a kazoo had a love child."

Lilia leaned in beside you, eyes glittering with delight. "Oho, this sounds entertaining! What did they do this time?"

Jamil sighed deeply, as if he’d just aged ten years in the past ten minutes. "Kalim thought it would be fun to 'spice up' a party by enchanting the decorations. Cater encouraged him, saying it would make a great Magicam post. The result? The curtains are now tap-dancing, the chandelier won’t stop singing old sea shanties, and the punch bowl tried to bite me."

Lilia clapped his hands. "This sounds like an excellent way to spend the afternoon! Let’s go!"

You groaned. "Why do I have to go?"

"Because you’re the only one who can keep Lilia from making things worse," Jamil deadpanned.

Arriving at Scarabia was like stepping into a fever dream. The furniture was waltzing around the room, the ceiling fan was chanting, "Spin me right round, baby, right round," and the aforementioned punch bowl snarled at you as you walked in.

Kalim, of course, was having the time of his life, clapping to the rhythm of the furniture parade. Cater was filming everything, laughing as he tried to get the chandelier to do a TikTok dance.

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" Jamil hissed, his hair practically frazzled.

"Let’s fix this before someone dies," you muttered, pulling out the anti-curse toolkit Lilia had handed you on the way.

"Or before someone posts this to Magicam and the entire world sees it," Jamil added grimly, glaring at Cater.

It started smoothly enough—well, as smoothly as any curse-breaking session with Lilia could go. The two of you worked to unravel the enchantments while dodging flying pillows and shrieking party streamers.

Then, of course, you made the mistake of touching an enchanted lamp.

It burst into song—loud, off-key, and somehow extremely personal. The lyrics were all about your lack of a love life and questionable fashion choices. Before you could fight back, it tangled itself around your arms and legs, dragging you upward toward the chandelier.

"Hey, uh, Lilia? Little help!"

Lilia, ever the dramatic savior, leaped into action. With a mischievous grin, he sliced through the magical binds with a well-aimed spell and caught you mid-fall.

You blinked up at him, heart hammering in your chest. His crimson eyes glimmered with amusement, his fangs showing in a victorious smirk. He cradled you with an ease that shouldn’t have been possible given his stature.

"You alright there, my dear?" he asked, voice low and teasing.

"Yeah, I’m fine," you muttered, face heating up. "Just…you know…trying not to die."

But your brain wasn’t focusing on that. It was too busy processing the fact that Lilia was holding you like you weighed nothing, and you could feel your pulse quickening. Damn it, why is my heart beating so fast?

He tilted his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. "Are you sure? Your face is a bit flushed."

"Nope! Totally fine!" you squeaked, scrambling out of his arms as soon as your feet touched the ground.

Jamil, watching the whole thing from across the room, rolled his eyes. "Great. Now you’re cursed too."

"Shut up, Jamil."

It took another hour, but the dorm was finally back to normal—or as normal as Scarabia could be. Kalim apologized profusely, Cater promised to delete the footage (he didn’t), and Jamil looked like he might snap at any moment.

As you and Lilia walked out, you tried to calm your racing heart, but he leaned in with a knowing grin.

"Quite the adventure today, wasn’t it?"

"Sure," you replied quickly, hoping your face wasn’t still red.

He hummed thoughtfully. "I wonder what’s got your heart racing so much. You’re not catching feelings for your favorite partner-in-chaos, are you?"

"Not a chance," you lied, your heart betraying you with another treacherous thump.

Lilia just chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if he believed you—or if he was just letting you stew in your own embarrassment for fun.

The enchanted orb buzzed frantically, and you groaned as you reached for it. The second you accepted the call, you heard Deuce.

“HELP! WE MESSED UP BAD!”

“Deuce?” you asked, already dreading the answer. “What did you do this time?”

Jack’s voice came through, exasperated and growly. “It wasn’t just him. I was there too.”

“Great,” you deadpanned. “So, what kind of mess am I cleaning up now?”

Deuce gulped. “We, uh… were practicing some spellwork for exams—”

“Right by the Spelldrive practice field,” Jack added grimly.

Your eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me you—”

“Destroyed the field? Yeah,” Deuce admitted miserably. “But we didn’t mean to! The explosion was an accident!”

You heard a sharp, angry voice in the background: “AN ACCIDENT?! YOU DESTROYED HALF THE FIELD, YOU LITTLE—”

“Leona’s there?” you asked, already standing up.

Deuce nodded frantically. “He’s so mad. Please come before he kills us!”

“Stay put,” you said, grabbing your things. “And pray he doesn’t finish you off before we get there.”

The Spelldrive practice field was a warzone. One goalpost was completely obliterated, sand smoldered in random patches across the ground, and an entire section of the bleachers looked like it had been hit by a tornado.

Leona was standing in the middle of the chaos, arms crossed, glaring daggers at Deuce and Jack, who were huddled behind a tipped-over bench like it could save them. His team stood a safe distance away, clearly too smart to get involved.

You arrived with Lilia in tow, who was already grinning like he’d just stumbled upon the most entertaining show of the year.

“Oh, this is delightful,” Lilia mused, surveying the carnage. “It’s like an abstract painting of destruction.”

“Not helping,” you muttered, jogging toward the scene.

Leona’s sharp green eyes locked onto you. “Finally. You gonna fix this mess, or do I get to turn these two into sandbags?”

“Leona,” you said, stepping between him and the disaster twins, “We’ll handle it. Just… don’t murder them. Yet.”

Leona snorted. “You’ve got five minutes.”

Lilia hummed a jaunty tune as he began waving his hands over the destroyed sections of the field. Slowly, the sand settled, the goalpost reformed, and the bleachers stopped looking like they’d gone through a blender.

Meanwhile, you kept Leona from pouncing on Deuce and Jack, who were watching Lilia work with wide eyes.

“You two better hope I don’t find out about another ‘accident,’” Leona growled, looming over you.

“Relax,” you said, holding up a hand. “They’re idiots, not criminals. Save your energy for your team.”

Leona rolled his eyes but stepped back, muttering something about “babysitters.”

When everything was finally back in order, Lilia dusted off his hands with a satisfied smile. “That was quite fun. We should let those two cause chaos more often.”

You shot him a look. “Please don’t encourage them.”

Leona, arms crossed and clearly annoyed, stepped closer. “You’re done? Good. I’ll send Ruggie with something to pay you later.” Then he smirked, eyes flicking between you and Lilia. “Now keep your lovesick asses away from my practice field.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Wha—?! Lovesick?”

Leona just walked off with a lazy wave, leaving you standing there, half-mortified.

Lilia leaned in, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Oh my. He really has a way with words, doesn’t he?”

“Don’t you start,” you muttered, your face burning.

But when you turned to walk away, Lilia was by your side, chuckling softly. He caught your wrist gently, pulling you to a stop for just a moment. “For what it’s worth,” he said, voice quieter and more serious, “you were quite impressive back there, keeping Leona from turning them into mincemeat.”

Your heart did a flip. “Uh… thanks?”

He let go with a grin, stepping back and returning to his usual playful tone. “Now, let’s see if we can avoid the next disaster, hmm?”

You weren’t sure if your face would ever cool down.

Potions class with the first-year gang was never uneventful. Today was no exception. The room smelled faintly of burnt caramel as Grim waved his tiny paws at Ace, who was leaning smugly on the table.

“I told you not to put that in!” Grim yelped.

“I barely touched it!” Ace shot back.

“It doesn’t matter who did it!” Sebek barked, slamming his hands on the table. “What matters is that our potion is—”

“About to blow,” Jack growled, pointing to the cauldron bubbling ominously.

“Wait—WHAT?!” you yelped, but it was too late.

The cauldron erupted, spraying a shimmering pink mist over everyone. The class erupted into chaos as Sebek shouted about “inferior techniques,” Epel coughed dramatically like he was dying, and Deuce tried (and failed) to douse the sparks with his coat.

You, unfortunately, caught the brunt of the potion to the face.

You thought the effects were mild at first—just a faint warmth in your chest and the echo of the sugary-sweet scent in your nose. But when you sat down at lunch with Lilia and Malleus, the symptoms became impossible to ignore.

Lilia was chatting animatedly, laughing at his own jokes and waving his fork in the air, while Malleus nodded thoughtfully. But you weren’t hearing a word.

Your brain had decided that the only thing worth focusing on was how kissable Lilia’s lips looked.

Wait, what?

You shook your head, trying to clear it, but it only got worse. Now you were noticing how nice his voice was. And his smile. And the way his hand brushed yours when he passed the salt—

Oh, no.

“Child of man,” Malleus said, pulling you from your internal meltdown, “you seem… distracted.”

You blinked rapidly. “Uh. Yeah. Distracted. Totally fine. Definitely not—uh—totally infatuated with Lilia or anything.”

Lilia looked up, smirking. “Oh? How flattering.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “IT’S THE POTION!”

Malleus watched you pace back and forth in the hallway, his expression somewhere between amused and curious.

“You have to fix me,” you begged, grabbing his shoulders. “This has to be the potion talking. There’s no way I just—randomly—started thinking about Lilia like that!”

Malleus tilted his head, his eyes studying you intently. “You truly believe you are under an enchantment?”

“Yes! Of course!” You gestured wildly. “I mean, it’s Lilia! He’s my partner in crime! He’s—he’s—”

“Kissable?” Malleus offered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Your hands dropped to your sides. “You are so not helping.”

He stepped closer, his presence calm but commanding, and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Very well, child of man. Allow me to assess your condition.”

Malleus leaned forward, his magic swirling faintly around him as he studied you with eerie precision.

After a moment, he straightened, folding his arms. “The potion you were exposed to was a failure. Its intended effects are nonexistent.”

You froze. “What are you saying?”

Malleus raised an eyebrow. “I am saying that you are not under a spell. Your feelings are entirely your own.”

You stared at Malleus in horror.

“So… you’re telling me… I’m not cursed?”

“Precisely.”

“And this… this whole… wanting to kiss Lilia thing…” You paused, voice dropping to a mortified whisper. “That’s just me?”

Malleus nodded sagely. “Indeed.”

You covered your face with your hands. “No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

Lilia’s voice drifted from the next room. “Are you done conspiring with Malleus, beastie? Lunch is getting cold!”

You peeked through your fingers at Malleus, who looked like he was thoroughly enjoying your suffering.

“Good luck, child of man,” he said, patting your shoulder.

You groaned. “I’m going to die.”

And yet, as you returned to the table and sat down next to Lilia, who greeted you with his usual teasing grin, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

You didn’t think it could get any worse than being late for class, but that was before Grim decided to experiment with potions unsupervised. Now, you and Lilia were sprinting through the halls of NRC, dodging a cursed army of flying spoons.

“I told Grim not to use the potions lab as a snack bar!” you gasped, barely ducking as a spoon zoomed past your head with terrifying precision.

Lilia, running beside you, was grinning like this was the most fun he’d had all week. “I must admit, this is an impressive level of chaos. Even I wouldn’t have thought to curse cutlery!”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” you panted, grabbing his arm as another wave of spoons turned the corner. “Hide!”

The two of you dove behind a nearby tapestry, pressing against the wall as the spoons zipped past, their metallic clinking fading into the distance.

For a moment, it was quiet—except for the pounding of your heart.

Your breathing slowly steadied, but your heart didn’t. Not when Lilia was so close, his eyes gleaming with excitement and his cheeks flushed from the chase.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Lilia,” you blurted, voice trembling but determined, “I’m in love with you.”

Lilia blinked, his surprise evident for a split second before a soft smile curved his lips. “Ah, I see. Was it the spoons that gave me away, or my undeniable charm?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m serious!”

He chuckled, gently pulling your hands away to meet your eyes. “So am I. I’ve felt the same for quite some time.”

Your breath hitched. “Really?”

“Really,” he murmured, leaning closer. His lips brushed yours, soft and fleeting, but it sent your heart racing like you were being chased by a thousand cursed spoons.

He pulled back, his grin mischievous. “Now, let’s survive this first date, shall we?”

He grabbed your hand, pulling you from your hiding spot just as the spoons began circling back like a swarm of metallic bees.

“Run!”

You laughed despite yourself, sprinting hand-in-hand with Lilia as the chaos erupted around you once more.

And yet, as you glanced at him—his hair wild, his smile unshakable, his fingers warm around yours—you couldn’t help but think:

I want this forever.

Masterlist

[wilwheaton]

For some odd reason, moderator Jake Tapper told Trump in the beginning that he didn't need to answer the questions and that he could use the time however he wanted. Trump ran with that, essentially giving a rally speech whenever he had the floor and was unresponsive to the vast majority of the questions. He made faces and insulted Biden to his face, at one point calling him a criminal and a Manchurian candidate. If anyone had said 10 years ago that this would happen at a presidential debate they would have been laughed out of the room. After the debate when most of the country had turned off cable news or gone to bed, CNN aired its fact check. [...] Even had Joe Biden been at the top of his game, he would not have been able to parry all those lies and he shouldn't have been put in the role of being Donald Trump's fact checker. His choice was to either ignore the lies and let them stand so he could use his time to make his own case or spend the entire debate correcting the record. It was not a fair fight. It's obvious that Biden's terrible performance has caused panic among Democrats and liberal pundits and analysts. The calls for him to withdraw are loud and meaningful and it's going to be a very rough period in this campaign whatever happens. For me, this isn't really a question. As long as Donald Trump is on the ballot, I will vote for the Democratic nominee. If it's Biden or someone else, the calculation remains the same. Nothing is worse than another Trump administration and I suspect that at the end of the day Democratic voters will agree with that. So it's still a matter of those undecided voters in swing states, just like it was on Thursday morning.

CNN's debate was no fair fight

CNN, yet again, gave Trump a national stage to vomit an endless stream of unchecked lies, and today, CNN is telling itself and anyone who will listen that the network and its moderators did a great job. That’s just plainly false, and America is paying the price for their failure.

That doesn’t let Biden off the hook. Biden had a terrible night. He was so bad, it’s allowed the political press to completely ignore not just how much Trump lied, but what he lied about: January 6, all his indictments, his Covid response, and on and on. President Biden was a disaster, and his campaign should be at DefCon 1 to try and repair all the damage. I am terrified that his awful performance will obscure his surprisingly good record and leadership in the post-insurrection era, and give the political press an excuse to run with “Biden is old” in the face of Trump’s endless lies, his felony convictions, his pending trials, and all of his criminality. Someone at Salon said that Trump didn’t win, but Biden absolutely lost. I can’t argue with that, even if the facts are all on Biden’s side.

I’ve seen President Biden on TV today, and even last night after the debate, where he didn’t come across as an ancient dude who needs a walker on his way to some Matlock reruns. He looks and sounds like the SOTU Biden we all expected would show up last night. I have no idea why he was so awful for 99% of the debate (the campaign says he has a cold), and I have no idea why the guy who is showing up to speak to supporters today, and who delivered the SOTU didn’t show up last night to save America from Trump, again.

But we have to live with this reality now, and I hope like hell that the Biden campaign, the candidate, and the entire Democratic party apparatus scrambles like fucking crazy to get all hands on deck to fix this, and remind voters that

This isn’t about BIden vs. Trump. This is about America vs. Project 2025.

There will be no second debate where Biden can try to salvage something out of the wreckage of this one. Trump has everything to lose and nothing to gain. Trump will crow about how he won, and declare he has no reason to debate again, and he’s right. Biden had one shot and he absolutely blew it. The moderators did not help, but the campaign had to have known they wouldn’t, and it sure looks like they didn’t prepare Biden for what we all knew was coming. I don’t know how those same people stop the bleeding, and if they can’t, America and the world are in real, real trouble.

But we all have to remember that we have a choice to make in just a few months. Right now, and probably on election day, the choice is between Joe Biden and Democracy, or Donald Trump and Fascism. It’s stark, it’s clear, it’s binary, and I can not believe that it is even a question. I just hope that there are enough voters out there who will understand that we do have a choice. The options suck, but we do have a choice.

Please choose Democracy. Please choose America. Please choose the future world our children will inherit from us.

[saywhat-politics]

Arkansas lawmakers ask

President Trump to

'reconsider' disaster declaration denial

LITTLE ROCK, Ark. (KAIT) - Arkansas lawmakers have joined Governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders in asking the federal government to reconsider its denial of aid for tornado recovery.

Last week, the Federal Emergency Management Agency rejected Sanders’ request for a major disaster declaration for public assistance covering damage incurred by the March 14-15 severe storms.

On Friday, April 18, Sanders sent a letter appealing the decision and requested a 30-day extension of time.

U.S. Senators John Boozman and Tom Cotton, along with U.S. Representative Rick Crawford, followed with their own letter on Monday, April 21, to President Donald Trump asking that he “reconsider the denial.”

[scvrgrl]

my heart belongs to you | portgas d. ace x fem!reader

Throughout the entire night, it had been Ace's suave advances toward you that allowed you to fall at his feet. But right now, in the dim light of your desk lamp, you decided to take control — wanting him to crumble and beg from inside you.

word count: 9.2k

cw/tags: fem!reader, x reader, college/modern!au, drinking/getting drunk, slight tw for sexual harassment, smut!!, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (reader receiving), backshots (reader receiving), missionary sex, and other things I probably forgot, if there's grammar errors no there isn't, MDNI pls!!

“But why nottttt?”

It’s nine PM on a Friday night and your lively red-headed roommate is, yet again, attempting to drag you out from the warmth of your fluffy sheets. Nami fixes herself in the mirror, running her gold hoops through the healed tissue of her delicate ears. She was dressed in a noisy costume that resembled a belly dancer, her purple/blue skirt jingling as if to announce every movement. She’d mentioned a party with an “Arabian Nights” theme. What’s a PWI without a little cultural appropriation?

“‘Cause I’ve just spent my entire day studying for my chem midterm that’s in a week! I can’t afford to fail this one or I swear I’m gonna drop out,” you responded, hands covering your face with an exasperated sigh. It was times like these where you seriously regretted declaring a STEM major. 

“Oh come on! You trap yourself in this dorm all day, [y/n]. Why don’t you just let loose for one night? I promise you it’ll be fun!” 

Nami’s big, warm eyes tempted you for a moment. Getting your mind to focus on literally anything other than the impending exam enticed you. What’s the harm in blowing off a bit of steam?  

“I don’t even have anything to-” 

Before you could even complete that sentence, Nami raises a nearly identical outfit to the one on her body. Her teasing smirk revealed that she had gotten what she wanted. After all, it was hard saying no to her. You let out a frustrated sigh, “I hate you.” 

…

You stared at your exposed chest in the mirror, overanalyzing the way the thin, almost see-through fabric hugged your waist. There was extra room surrounding your chest, which made sense considering the top was meant to fit your blessed friend just right. You’ve never been the most secure person, body issues being your number one enemy. Comparison is the thief of joy, they say. However, no matter which way you poked and prodded at your dismal appearance, Nami never failed to boost your confidence. 

“You’re stunning!” she exclaimed, taking your hand and twirling you around. This playful gesture was rewarded with a soft smile from your lips. “Seriously, these guys are gonna be all over you.” 

“I’m not sure if I want that,” you chuckled, your laughter trailing off into a shy smile. Your hands instinctively wrapped around your exposed stomach, hugging yourself to accessorize the foreign look with a familiar feeling. 

Nami collected her things, disregarding your last comment, almost as if she was purposely ignoring you. “As long as we have fun, it’ll be a good night. Now, let’s go before the guys change their mind! Luffy and the others are already downstairs, probably looking like creeps waiting for someone to key them in.” 

You gave Nami a hearty laugh, recalling the last time you’d gone out. A tipsy Luffy and high Usopp trying to convince residents to let them enter your building after a small pregame had been a recipe for disaster. They made sure to let you know how many times they’d been met with “hell no”-’s and weird stares. Eventually, Zoro was able to coax someone into letting only him in, which hadn’t been hard since many of the girls favored the captain of the school’s ice hockey team. 

…

Arriving at the party had been enough of an adventure to make you want to crawl back in bed. The chill of the early October air prickled your skin, foreshadowing the “Bikinis and Beanies” season that was upcoming for every frat to exploit. The catcalling and wandering eyes that followed your every move is what really sent chills down your spine. You’d never been perceived so much at once that it was becoming overwhelming. Sanji, the observant gentleman he is, caught on to your discomfort, “Something the matter, princess?” 

His unrelenting corny nicknames had earned their fair share of grievances over the last few months, so much so that you’ve learned to completely ignore them overall.

 “Nuh uh, just cold. Thanks though,” you gave him a soft smile, despite the fact that you really just wanted to go back to your dorm. When you’d turn back around, he made sure to glare menacingly at the groups of men who made you feel uncomfortable. Only I’m allowed to bother these girls, he thought to himself. 

After weaving through multiple sweaty bodies, bumping into not-so-friendly women (and men), and risking your feet getting crushed under the weight of the crowd, you guys had finally made your way in. Thanks to Zoro and Luffy’s street cred, passing through “security” had been a breeze. A quick dap-up and head nod from the pair was enough to let your group of seven pass through smoothly. It wasn’t long before the crew dispersed – you, Nami, and Robin making your way to the drinks (with Sanji following close behind, of course); Luffy and Usopp spotting some friends in a nearby corner; and Zoro bee-lining to the back of the party to partake in his usual wallflower activities, surveying the area in case something went down. A brief pang of sadness struck your heart as you watched Zoro’s back move in silence. The small ember of feelings lingered from your unrequited crush. You’d never dare tell him about your feelings though, secretly hoping that they would subside to avoid conflict within the group. 

You turned back to your girlfriends, a red solo cup already meeting your gaze. Nami gives you a knowing smirk, “Looks like you’re gonna need this.”

Nami and Robin had known about your crush for quite some time, for they were the only members of your group to be trusting enough not to tell Zoro. You gladly accepted the mystery beverage, I’ll figure out what’s in it sooner or later. As the cup met your lips, your tongue was greeted with a sweet and sour flavor, accompanied by a burning sensation down your throat. Your brows furrowed instinctively, wincing at the horrid flavor, but gradually accepted the drink into your mouth. You’d always hated the process of getting drunk, but it was always worth it when you’d leave the party a giggly (and flirty) mess. 

“How is it?” Robin queried, although she already knew the answer based on your initial reaction. 

“Oh it’s terrible,” you stated bluntly, followed by a giggle from each of you. “But I know it’ll be worth it so what’s the harm?”

Little did you know, the “harm” would arrive later, a consequence of your drunken attempt to clear your mind from the yearning. 

… 

It was well into the night, music still blasting from every direction and no sign of the party dying down. Luffy had spotted a familiar face in the crowd of sweaty, gyrating bodies on his way to the bathroom (or at least he hoped he had, the alcohol made his vision a bit wobbly). 

“That you, Ace??” he shouted, gaining the attention of the muscular man. He wore long black shorts with a red scarf tied around his waistband. His shaggy black hair fit snugly under an orange cap, small beads of sweat allowing some of its strands to stick to his forehead just right. It wasn’t until Luffy could make out the constellation of freckles on his rosy cheeks and the thick tattoo down his arm that read “ASCE”, that he could officially identify his older brother.  

“Luffy!” the man beamed. “What’s up? I didn’t know you’d be here! Hey guys, this is my little brother, Luffy!” 

Ace wasn’t your typical “older brother”. Despite being three years older than him, Ace had never been ashamed or embarrassed of Luffy, but rather, embraced him proudly whenever he came around. It was the other way around, really, Ace always meddling into Luffy’s business and Luffy pushing him away. Which is why when Ace pulled him into a headlock, ruffling up his brother’s hair, Luffy pleaded to be set free, “Oh c’mon Ace! Let me go already!” 

Ace’s booming belly laughter combined with Luffy’s grunts and giggles attracted the attention of people around them, including your group. It’s not everyday you see a guy and his bungling kid brother tussle at a frat party. 

“Is that…Luffy?” Robin asked, her slender fingers pointing in the direction past your left shoulder. You turned around, immediately laying eyes on the scene of flailing arms and legs. The shorter, more lean figure uttered something loud and obnoxious, you presume. However, you missed it entirely, as your focus was set on the big, sculpted bicep that held your friend in place. 

“...and Ace, I guess,” Nami added, her voice tinged with annoyance, bothered that they had begun to cause such a scene. 

“Wait, that’s Ace??” 

Luffy had mentioned his older brothers Ace and Sabo before, but failed to acknowledge that one of those boys was incredibly beautiful. Then, as if he had heard your inner thoughts, the young man lifted his head, meeting your gaze from across the room. His strikingly dark eyes burned a hole right through yours, filling your entire body up with a familiar kind of electricity you’ve only felt once before. You felt your cheeks flush instantly, turning back around swiftly to avoid eye contact any longer. So much for “liquid courage,” you thought to yourself. Your bashful reaction made the man smile, releasing his brother and slinging an arm around Luffy’s shoulders, guiding him through the sea of people to approach your group. Anxiety flowed through your entire nervous system as you heard large footsteps advancing toward you. 

“Hello ladies,” Ace greeted, his voice deeper and mellow compared to the enthusiasm that filled it moments ago. 

Nami scoffed, Was he trying to make himself sound cooler? “What brings you here, Ace?” 

“Oh c’mon Nami, you know my school is socially dead. It’s community college – everyone goes to class then gets the hell out,” Ace stated plainly. “Plus the parties here are some of the best I’ve been to. 

You felt the presence of the man directly behind you, the warmth of his sweaty body lingering around the small of your back. At this point you’d still avoided eye contact, not even turning around to acknowledge the pair behind you. Without even realizing it, you began to nibble at the edge of the plastic cup, a nervous tick you had developed in these social settings. 

Ace knew that you were avoiding him, sparking his interest in you just a little more. “And who’s this?” 

You winced upon hearing the smile in his voice, cursing yourself for being so awkward. You decided to blame it on the alcohol, after all, you were a little rusty coming back into the party scene. 

“Oh! That’s [y/n]!” Luffy exclaimed. He was always excited to introduce you to new people because he knew you were a little timid. “She’s totally awesome and one of my best friends and- wait,” the boy turned to you, a puzzled look flashing across his face, “What’re you actin’ so shy for, [y/n]?? It’s just Ace.” 

Geez Luffy, any more obvious???? You took a deep breath and finally decided to turn around, greeting your goofy friend with a tight smile and a “I’ll kill you” look in your eyes. As you reluctantly take a step forward to bring Luffy into a hug, Ace shifts to the side to make room for the both of you. Luffy, completely absorbed in an alternate reality due to his drunkenness, gladly accepts your embrace. He lifts you into the air and twirls you around, the spinning room colliding with the alcohol in your system. When he (not very gracefully) places you back on the floor, you stumble a little bit from the buzz, almost as if the spinning accelerated the intoxication process. The brown strapped sandals that Nami had lent you didn’t help ground you either, lacking their usual traction from excessive use. Suddenly, you feel firm, hot hands stabilizing your exposed waist. Your breath hitched suddenly, uh oh. 

“Woah there,” Ace chuckled, “You okay?” 

You hadn’t even spoken a single word to this man, yet made several embarrassing attempts to keep it that way. Mortified, you decided that you had to redeem yourself somehow. The easiest way to cope with embarrassment has always been your sense of humor, so that’s exactly what you did. 

Opposed to stiffening in his grasp, you relaxed and rested your back onto his bare chest. You could feel the rise and fall, taking in the feeling of his solid pecs on your shoulder blades. As you turned your head to meet the man’s gaze, your eyes trailed the path from his glistening collarbones, to his brawny neck and tracing the sharpness of his jaw. You admired the way his jet black hair contrasted with his fair, peachy skin, allowing yourself to wonder how good he would look with a summer tan. To your surprise, Ace had already been looking down, waiting for your soft eyes to meet his gaze. 

Your eyes quickly flickered to his lips, and then back to his eyes. With the retort already in mind, you smirked, anticipating his reaction to the words about to leave your lips, “Y’know, I usually let a guy take me out on a date before I let him start touching me.” 

You had still been chuckling at the jab you threw at the man that you almost missed the words that followed, “Then maybe you should go out with me.”

Ace had said it so matter-of-factly that you could’ve played it off as someone casually making conversation next to you. The smug grin on his face is not exactly helping. What?? 

The amusement that colored your face quickly bled into horror, taken aback by the certainty of his voice. Peeling yourself off of him, you escaped his grasp and turned your body to face him correctly. A deep scoff and the giggles from your friends helped reel you back into reality. 

“Yeah right,” you scoffed. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted to say, but you couldn’t really just accept a date from a man you just met. Yes, you’d been one of Luffy’s (many) best friend’s, however, this friendship was an entirely new development. 

…

You’d met Luffy and his crew at the beginning of your first semester at the university. It was a warm summer evening, the blazing September sun setting on your move-in day. You watched the mixture of vibrant oranges and pinks color the sky from your dorm window, when a sudden burst of commotion startled you. Nami had burst through the door with a large suitcase in her left hand and tote bag in her right. 

“God, Luffy, can you wait five seconds?! These heavy ass bags already make it nearly impossible to open the door so the last thing I need is your fatass breathing down my neck-” Nami cut her outburst short when she saw you standing and staring at her with a frightened look in your eyes. “Oh my god, I am so sorry! I’m Nami.” 

She placed her bags down and extended a hand out to you, her fingers and wrist decorated with dainty golden rings and bangles. You nearly experienced whiplash adjusting to the sudden switch in her demeanor. Reluctantly, you took her hand, worried that if you hadn’t you’d be met with the same wrath. Taking a peek over her shoulder, you spotted the source of her anger, grimacing and mocking her with rolled eyes. However, this childish act ceased when he noticed you looking at him, holding back your laughter. 

“I’m [y/n]…and I take it that you must be Luffy,” you extended your hand to the boy, his firm and eager hand immediately taking yours. 

“Yup! Just ignore her, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I was totally helping!” 

“Yeah, if the helping was you whining and begging for something to eat, you definitely succeeded!” 

After you had helped Nami finish moving into your shared room, they had both invited you out with them to explore the college town. From there you met the rest of the group: Robin, Vivi, Usopp, Sanji, and Zoro. It was this very first night where you fell in love with the group’s dynamic. Their lively attitude and close bond made you feel as if you had known them your whole life, providing you with a sense of both friendship and family. Luffy and his group had become your home-away-from-home. 

…

It was until this very moment, however, where you let your mind indulge in selfish thoughts. You had cursed yourself for meeting such a loving and forgiving group of people, wishing that you could break the forbidden rule of hooking up with your best friend’s brother for just one night.

Luffy glared at his older brother and groaned, “Ace can you stop flirting with my friends?? [y/n] would never wanna go out with an ape like you.” 

“Yeah whatever,” Ace chuckled lightly. Whether it was the alcohol or delusion that fed your mind, you couldn’t help notice the hint of embarrassment in his tone. “I’ll catch you guys later. It was a pleasure meeting you, [y/n].” 

The man tipped his hat in your direction, accompanying the gesture with a small wink. You couldn’t help but blush, “Bye Ace.” 

As Ace begins to make his way back to his group, Luffy follows suit, saying his goodbyes and looking to return to Usopp. You giggle at the sight of Luffy carelessly bumping into others, brushing them off when they start bitching at him for being so clumsy. 

“Soooo, it looks like Ace has taken a liking to you,” Vivi teased with a knowing smile. Your group had met up with hers around the drinks table, unaware that she was even at this party.

“Does..that happen often?” you asked, worried that you had just fallen for the stereotypical fuck-boy tactic of wooing you solely for his entertainment. 

Nami chimes in, her lips smacking after finishing her drink, “Not necessarily, Ace just has a naturally flirty personality. At some point I thought he wanted me until I realized that’s just who he is — a flirty, more handsome version of Luffy.”

The thought of Ace taking an interest in Nami suddenly made your mouth go sour, a pit of envy and sadness twisting in your stomach. Then, as if she had noticed the discomfort on your face, Nami reassured you, “But I promise he doesn’t! Like I said, he’s just naturally flirty so there’s nothing there at all. Like seriously, never in a million years.” 

“It’s okay Nami,” you chuckled. “It’s not like I’d actually go after him. That’s crazy! I could never do that to Luffy. Plus I’ve already toed the line with my feelings for Zoro…I just could never risk losing someone so close to me.” 

The feeling of Zoro’s name rolling off your tongue stung, wishing you’d been using it under a different circumstance. Zoro had always failed to reciprocate your feelings, whether that was laughing off your flirty advances toward him or just simply putting you in the friend zone. 

“You know you’re one of my best friends, right?” was his famous line, a sweet gesture considering you’d seen him let other girls down more harshly. The truth was that Zoro hadn’t been interested in anything romantic with anyone. Sure, he flirted and entertained girls here and there, but it never went further than a clean cut hook up. He had been more concerned with achieving his personal goals — fulfilling his duties as becoming a great hockey player and creating a name for himself in the big leagues. He believed that a craving for a “real” romance would be a wasteful distraction. Of course, you didn’t know that (or chose not to believe it anyway). Reminiscing on such embarrassing and pathetic memories stung your throat, scolding yourself for being so bold back then. The embarrassment rising in your throat caused you to quickly grab another cup, nearly filling it to the brim with the similar concoction you had begun to drink earlier only with more alcohol.

“Hey, are you okay [y/n]?” Robin asked, her sincere voice filled with concern. 

You took a long sip, hoping to wash away the discomfort. Turning to the blue-eyed woman, you flashed her an attempt of a soft smile, “Never been better.”

…

The events of the night began to blend together hazily, the alcohol almost completely consuming you at this point. Your feet felt light, almost as if you were floating through the party, your heavy eyelids being the only thing weighing you down. Eventually, your bladder had angrily let you know it was time to relieve itself before humiliating you in the sea of people. Nami and the girls asked if you needed any help making your way over to the bathroom but you assured them you’d be okay. It wasn’t until you got a considerable distance away from your group that you realized you actually didn’t know where the bathroom was. The obnoxiously loud music and the half-shrugs of drunken bystanders led you to a dead end. It wasn’t until you noticed a familiar silhouette that you began to see the light at the end of the tunnel. However, that light quickly faded when you realized that your saving grace was the king of getting lost — Roronoa Zoro himself. 

You swallowed your pride after a small fit of whining and dragged your feet over to the young man leaning against the wall, silently praying that he at least knew the bathroom’s general direction. The sharp sensation that consumed the lower half of your body was suddenly redirected to your stomach at the sight before you, causing you to stop in your tracks. Zoro was talking to someone…and that someone was a girl. You could make out the dark, harsh shadow that traced his jawline moving slowly, whispering something intently into the girl’s ear. The smug grin on his rosy lips let you know that he wasn’t just talking to her, but flirting. And by the look on her face, he was doing it well, her dark eyes filled with lust and mischief. She began to play with the thin gold chain that draped across his collarbone, twirling it in between her long, slender fingers. Tears began to prickle behind your eyes, a lump forming in your throat as you passed the scene, refusing to make eye contact. I didn’t want your fucking help anyway. 

The combination of tears and intoxication made it incredibly hard to see, feeling your way through the crowd as your only form of navigation. You hadn’t been watching where you were going — all you knew was that you needed to find a bathroom and STAT. This fit of jealousy and carelessness led you straight into a hard surface, which would have easily been mistaken for a wall had you not felt the squishiness of flesh that accompanied it. It wasn’t long before you realized that you had run head-first into someone’s spine, causing them to frantically turn around. 

“Hey! Watch where you’re-“ the irritated voice began, however, it became soft immediately upon seeing the expression on your face. “[y/n]? What's the matter??” 

Removing the hand from your forehead after the dull pain subsided, you made eye contact with the tall figure. The tight squeezing of your eyes had finally let the tears fall, small streaks of black trickling down your cheeks. The person you collided with was none other than Portgas D. Ace. He gently began to wipe the tears away, his large hand cupping your jaw and the other resting on your bare shoulder. The tenderness behind his every move made you melt into his touch. You had no time to feel embarrassed or sorry for yourself as the stinging in your bladder had returned once again. 

“I really need to use the bathroom,” was all you could muster between the soft sobs that escaped your lips. Ace chuckled softly, relieved that you hadn’t been in any actual danger. 

“C’mon I’ll show you,” he said, lightly grabbing your hand and guiding you through the masses of people. Unfortunately for you, he had been leading you right back to where Zoro had been. It turns out the bathroom was directly adjacent to where he had made his post for the night. Only a few more steps and you would’ve made it (almost) scotch-free. 

You could’ve fell to your knees at the sight of a free bathroom with no line, a rare commodity at any college party. You threw a brief “thanks” at Ace, fumbling with the door knob as the pain of an overly full bladder consumes your entire being. After relieving yourself, you stared deeply into your own eyes, your reflection warped and swaying like a fun-house mirror. You began to breathe heavily, hunched over the sink attempting to sober yourself up so you wouldn’t get lost on the way back to Nami’s group—also so they wouldn’t notice that you had been crying. The more you stared, the more you noticed how disheveled you truly were: dried mascara smeared across your cheeks, your lip liner and gloss completely gone, hair frizzy and sticking to your sweaty forehead. Wow so this night actually could get worse. Quickly, you cleaned your face up with your fingers and some warm water, figuring everyone was too drunk to notice the difference. Reapplying your staple lip combination, you assure yourself that it’s close enough to the way you always wear it. 

Upon leaving the bathroom, you’re met with the hairy chest of a larger man, beads of sweat allowing his olive skin to glisten under the faint hallway light. Startled from the sudden contact, you jump back, a small squeal escaping your throat. 

“Shit, sorry!” you shout, hoping the man can hear you over the blaring music. His eyes are drooping and his movements are slowed, the pungent smell of alcohol radiating off his body. You attempt to scooch your way past him, however, he blocks your path by putting his arm against the doorframe. The remnants of alcohol now clash with his disgusting body odor, the smell so strong it’s enough to make you heave. 

“Whereya’ off to, beautiful?” the strange man slurs, his lips turning up into an awkward smirk. This cannot be happening right now. 

You scoff, growing more and more irritated by the second. The last thing you needed right now was to be harassed by a disgusting frat brother at a party you begrudgingly agreed to attend. 

“Nowhere that should concern you,” you stated curtly, hoping the man would take the hint that you were completely uninterested. 

You aggressively shoved his arm out of the way, clearing an opening for your escape. However, you hadn’t even gotten four paces away from the scene when you felt a harsh grip pulling on your arm. Horrified at the audacity, you turn around and meet the man’s drunken glaze, his face still decorated with that terrible grin. 

“Dude! Leave me the fuck alone!” you exclaim, tugging your arm in an attempt to escape his death grip. 

“Oh c’monn,” he hiccuped, “Don’t be like that. I can show ya’ a g’d time, ya know?” 

It wasn’t long until you realized that trying to escape was going to be a lot harder than you had anticipated. As the man began to drag you further into the dark abyss of the empty restroom, your breath hitched and your heart began to race. Whatever trace of alcohol that had plagued your system merely a few minutes prior was now completely gone, the adrenaline kick-starting your fight-or-flight. You frantically begin to search around, praying to the heavens above that someone, anyone, would come to your aid. The rapid breathing made it extremely hard to speak, let alone scream. 

“Please, just let me go,” you pleaded, sobs beginning to get caught on the lump in your throat. You’d heard of the horror stories of girls who had been taken advantage of at events like these, never imagining that it would happen to you. 

Seconds before you had accepted your fate, a blur of a fleshy pink ball flashed across your face, the wind from its speed grazing your nose. The man holding you captive was suddenly thrown into the wall, a loud crash following the sound of blood splattering. The party suddenly went still, the air thick with tension. You snapped your head around, your eyes landing on Ace, who had been glaring intensely at the unconscious figure on the floor. 

“She said to leave her alone, asshole!” he shouted, his booming voice startling you. His gaze quickly met yours, and suddenly, Ace’s dark eyes had color to them. The aged yellowish lighting of the overhead lamp illuminated the deep chestnut brown that lined his pupils, bleeding into a fiery amber. Ace’s expression immediately softened upon noticing the frightened look across your face, “Are you okay?”

His eyes darted to the bruised imprint of the man’s hand that colored your arm. Ace’s brows furrowed as he watched you wince, a stinging pain radiating through your arm as you attempted to wave him off, “Yeah I’m okay. Thank you, Ace” 

Swarms of bystanders rush to the scene, some recording on their phones, others whispering and muttering “what the fuck”-s and “what just happened”-s as they attempt to assess the situation. The adrenaline quickly wears off as you realize what just happened, a pit forming in your stomach and tears stinging your eyes for the millionth time, unsure if you had any left to cry. Ace gently places a hand on the small of your back to guide you away from the scene, wincing slightly from the contact. He scans the crowd for familiar faces, hoping to see Luffy or anyone that would be able to take better care of you in this situation. He understands that he cannot properly tend to your needs because doesn’t know you. He’s afraid of hurting you any further, afraid of saying or doing something inappropriate that could lead you to resent him in the future. 

“Do you know where Luffy is?” he asks you, voiced riddled with urgency. He huffs a strained sigh when you shake your head, his rosy lips flapping as he blows a small raspberry. “Okay, I‘ll just take you to Nami—she’ll know what to d-” 

The music is suddenly cut, the clamoring of confused voices and boos filling the room. A large man climbs on top of a rather unstable and disgusting table, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his announcement, “IF YOURE NOT A BROTHER, FUCKING A BROTHER, OR IF YOURE PORTGAS D. ACE THEN GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE WE CALL THE COPS!!!” 

You and Ace turn to each other and immediately lock eyes, your wide-eyed expressions mirroring each other. A sinister smirk creeps onto the man's face as he begins to chuckle, his velvet eyelashes brushing against his freckled cheeks as he begins to laugh harder. Annoyed groans fill the room as people begin to make their way out of the party, one voice in particular muttering a “not again”. Ace fully latches on to your wrist now, his large, calloused hands enveloping your soft skin. He rushes you through the sea of people, holding onto his hat as he quickly weaves in between them. Occasionally, he’ll look back at you to make sure you’re still in one piece as you try to keep up with him. Based on his mischievous attitude, you infer that this was not his first rodeo. 

…

It turns out that Ace had accumulated many fraternity enemies, usually for keeping the brothers in check and correcting their disgusting habits. 

“Serving justice is apparently frowned upon nowadays,” Ace had retorted. The two of you had taken refuge on a curb a few houses down from the scene of the party, the cold pavement scratching your hardly-covered thighs. You brought your knees to your chest to seek some warmth, the heat from the man next to you helped ease the chill that prickled your skin. Ace’s charming sarcasm made it easy to talk to him, almost as if you two had been friends for years. 

“So what made you choose community college — not that it’s bad or anything!” you reassured, hoping your innocent curiosity didn’t come off as ignorantly presumptuous. “I just ask because Luffy attends the university, so I wonder why…you didn’t do the same?” 

Ace gives you a soft smile, letting you know that he was not at all offended by your question. “It definitely wasn’t my first choice, but I realized that it would’ve been much easier to be closer to home.”

You notice the way he nervously fidgets with the ends of his shorts, pinching and twisting the fabric into intricate positions. I really shouldn't pry...

"Listen, we don't have to talk about this if you don't want to. Trust me, I get how uncomfortable these things can be," you chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood.

"It's no big deal, really," Ace replied, a warm smile creeping across his face. He turned to look into the early morning sky, the faint constellation of the night's stars remaining. You traced the sharp curve of his jawline with your eyes, soaking in all of the features you had failed to notice before. In the crook of his neck, you found a cluster of freckles that had made their home there. You memorized the way his hair pooled at the base of his neck, dusky waves surrounding his delicate skin. His dark eyes flickered back and forth as they traced the stars — you could almost see the words he was trying to begin with.

"I never enjoyed my father's presence, not that he was at home much anyway. He always pushed my brothers and I to 'follow in his footsteps,' even though we made it abundantly clear we wanted nothing to do with him," Ace scoffed, the venom in his words causing him to grimace. The down curve of his lips accentuated the small scar that rested on his bottom lip. "He never cared much for any of us, always leaving for days on end. Hell, I got so used to him being gone that I had to step in and help my mom raise my two brothers. His main target was always Luffy, just cause he's the youngest he thought he could easily be manipulated. That obviously didn't get him very far though — you know how hardheaded Luffy can be when he really sets his mind to stuff."

You chuckled softly at the thought, oh do I ever. The memory of the time Luffy had helped you rearrange your dorm sprang into your mind. It was originally Nami's idea, believing that a "change of scenery" would help clear her mind from her impending statistics exam. Luffy had relentlessly insisted that you loft your bed a little higher to "make more room for activities," ultimately clearing some of the clutter that gathered across the floor. You had argued that it would make getting comfortable in your bed 1000x more difficult. However, as much as you pleaded, Luffy refused to listen to you, believing that it was his way or the high way. You reluctantly gave in to his suggestion (which had actually been an incredible upgrade as you were able to organize the room much easier — but you'd never admit that to Luffy).

"Yeah, he's a handful," you smiled, deciding to relieve your hair from its exhausted updo. "but I love him, nonetheless. He talks a lot about you, y'know."

Ace smiled, "Yeah well, it wasn't always like that. At the same time, him and I always butted heads — selfishly, I wanted him to stay closer to home to help me with mom, while he wanted to get away and have his own freedom. It took me a while to realize that I was just projecting my feelings onto him, a funny habit I learned from my father"

You hadn't expected to get on such a vulnerable level with Portgas D. Ace, but here you were — sitting on a curb listening to him open up about his childhood. The way his body completely relaxed while he spoke to you made you forget about your romantic feelings toward him. The facade of the flirty older brother had slipped. Instead, the comfortable silence between you two allowed you to admire him at a respectable distance, taking in every syllable that escaped his lips as he revealed his heart to you.

"...which is why when he got accepted here, I knew that I had to let him go be his own man. I owe everything to my mother, and I just couldn't leave home knowing that her life would be a living hell."

"I'm glad it all worked out for you guys. Your selflessness led me to meet the best people I've ever met in my entire life," you jested, bumping into his side with your exposed shoulder. The ease surrounding you caused you to be a little more bold. "...including you. If it weren't for you tonight, I would've gotten seriously hurt. So thank you again, truly."

The air between you two grew unexpectedly warm, the gap filling in with his heat as he leaned in. His large, calloused hand gently cupped your jaw, tracing the smooth skin as if to memorize your delicate features. Ace's firm fingers raked through the hair that resides on the nape of your neck, pulling your closer to him. His lips stopped millimeters before clashing with yours, his breath mingling and teasing yours.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his honey-colored eyes burning holes into yours. Speechlessly, you nod your head, eyes flickering back and forth between his eyes and his lips. Your eagerness dragged a husky laugh from his throat "I was hoping you'd say that."

So much for non-romantic feelings

Ace's warm, plushy lips smashed into yours, drinking in the way you taste. His tongue peeked through to part your lips, creating an entrance to the deep labyrinth behind them. You allowed him to dominate the kiss, your back arching to meet his warm chest as you both breathe heavily into each other. Ace places a gentle hand on the small of your back, gesturing you to relax your weight into his arms. You do so with pleasure, using his strength as leverage to meet his pace. Your hands hungrily find their way into his hair, ruffling up the sides as you grip onto his jet black locks. The two of you momentarily break away, catching your breath before Ace's red-hot lips travel down your neck. He ravenously suckles on the exposed skin before biting down, causing you to huff a moan from the painful sensation. Your hands escaped from his hair as you brought his face to meet yours, the two of you smiling through the kiss as you briefly locked eyes. It was as if you had never sobered up — drunk on the pheromones and lust that radiated from his body. The two of you were so enveloped in each other that you hadn't noticed the large, white vehicle pull up in front of you. The moment was over as quickly as it began, a long, blaring horn echoing down the street. The sudden change in volume caused you to jump, Ace accidentally biting your bottom lip. You pulled away instantly, wiping your mouth and refusing to make eye contact with anyone as the horror settled in on what you had just done.

"Sanji??? What the hell are you doing here?!" you shouted angrily into the void, carving out the silhouette of the man in the driver's seat through the dimly lit tip of his cigarette.

"What am I doing here? You're the one perched up on the curb sucking face! Get in the car, I'm taking everyone back to the dorms."

"Don't worry, [y/n]!! Luffy's in the back passed out, didn't see a thing I promise!" Nami hiccuped, the slight slurring of her words alerted you that she was intoxicated.

Reluctantly, you enter through the side door, climbing over the seemingly lifeless bodies of your friends. A pang of guilt strikes your chest as your eyes land on Zoro, peacefully sleeping with Luffy on his shoulder. You quickly shake off the feeling, preventing your heart from getting caught in a web of conflict, spiraling out of control. Instead, you allow your heart to beat for someone else — turning back to Ace and giving him a warm smile as you take a seat next to his little brother.

"Why don't you join us? I'm sure your buddies won't mind you staying with one of the guys," you said, your random act of kindness earning a grimace from Sanji in the front seat, cursing you under his breath.

The glimmer in his eyes shifted from excitement to mischief, his bright smile curving into something more sinister, "Why don't I stay with you?"

Your breath hitches, the air in the car becoming tense as you feel pairs of wide eyes burning holes into the side of your face. Sanji nearly tips the car over as he whips his body around, the ash of the cigarette falling on the center console as his jaw hangs open. The boy behind you stirs as the Zoro wakes, his brows contorting into an expression of disgust and confusion.

"She's not easy, y'know" Zoro argues, his voice raspy from the combination of sleep and alcohol. "I know you're used to that kinda thing but [y/n] is different, so have someone else pick you up. There's not even room for you in here."

Ace's expression never faltered. In fact, it quirked into something even more playful as he shrugged, "Well then I guess [y/n] will just have to sit on my lap."

Your cheeks burned hot, anger and embarrassment morphing your face into a bright crimson. Why is Zoro acting out now?? Since when has he ever cared about my love life? Zoro sucked his teeth as he turned to face the window, huffing a sigh of frustration as he shook his head.

"Since when do you care?" you snapped, your previous bout of irritation rising in your throat.

"I don't. I'm just looking out for you," Zoro replied, hardly maintaining eye contact with you. He'd never admit this to your face, but you kinda scared him whenever you got upset — almost as much as Nami did.

"Well don't. I can make my own decisions." You stepped out of the car to make some room for Ace, whose eyes watched you with admiration. As soon as he made his way in, you hoisted yourself onto his lap, Ace's rough hands guiding you to a spot that was comfortable enough for the two of you. You had become hypersensitive to his touch — the feeling of Ace's legs spreading beneath you, the way his hands never left your waist, his warm breath huffing against your exposed back caused warmth to pool between your legs.

"Are we at McDonalds?" Luffy queried, his eyes half-open as he bobbles his head to assess the situation. His silly question relieved some of the tension that had built up in the car, everyone chuckling and releasing the breath they had been holding throughout the small quarrel.

"Lemme get a Big Mac and large fries," Usopp shouts from the back, his legs sprawled across Vivi and Robin's laps.

...

After sneaking past the RA's room with a giggly Nami, Vivi offers to take her off your hands for the night.

"Don't worry [y/n], we'll take her for the night," the blue-haired woman smiled, "She can borrow a pair of my pajamas for now. I'll make sure she stays in one piece."

You gave her a small chuckle, thanking her and Robin for their service.

"Be safe and let me know if you need anything! We're just down the hall."

"Use protection!" Robin added, chuckling as you gave her a stern, mortified look.

Upon opening the door, you pave the way into your dorm room by picking up the articles of clothing left sprawled across the floor. You shove them into your closet quickly, hoping Ace hadn't seen the disgusting mess you and Nami left the room in. He did.

"You can take my bed if you want," you said, smoothing out your sheets and fluffing your pillows so that it's comfortable for your unexpected guest. Ace watched you as you did so, his bare back pressed against the large wooden door. He took note of the way your back arched to pull the sheets straight, your hair draping over your right shoulder to reveal the tone of your back muscles. His eyes traced over the curve of your ass, wishing your skirt had been just a little shorter so that he could see your silky legs. Using his heels, Ace pushed off the door and made his way over to you. You turn around to meet his gaze, attempting to read his thoughts through his dark eyes. His hands wrap around your waist as he leans in, planting a soft, yet hungry, kiss on your lips. Your arms travel to drape around his neck, pressing your body against his. Ace picks you up in one swift motion, gripping the back of your thighs for support as you straddle his waist.

Ace pulls away, lips a deep red and slick with your saliva mixed with his. "We both know that's not what you want."

His sly words worked their way straight down to your core, huffing a laugh as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, "Is it that obvious?"

Ace trails gentle kisses down your neck, his warmth bleeding across your skin as he works his way down your shoulder, "Maybe a little."

You cup his cheeks between your hands, bringing his attention back to your lips. Ace shifts your entire weight onto one of his arms, using his free hand to fumble with the strings of your top. Once undone, you shrug off the fabric, revealing the supple skin of your breasts. Ace spins around and throws you onto your fluffy comforter, admiring the way your tits bounced upon impact. You kept your arms raised by your head, allowing him to take in your curves as you maintained eye contact. Before you knew it, Ace is already fumbling with his shorts, kicking them off to reveal the length pitching underneath his boxers. He slowly peels off your long skirt, leaving just your white lacy panties. Ace makes room for himself between your legs, his hard cock grinding against your slick entrance. You gasped from the friction against your swollen clit, unsure of how you were gonna handle the way he would fill you up.

"Please, Ace. I need you," you gasped, begging him to take it further. You can feel his smile against your skin. Ace never would've taken you for the submissive type. Recognizing your request, Ace makes his way down to your core, leaving kisses from down your stomach to the inside of your thighs. Getting on his knees, Ace lifts you up from the small of your back, dragging you down to meet his mouth. He leaves small hickeys dangerously close to your already-throbbing cunt, biting and suckling the thin layer of skin that resides there. Frustrated from the teasing, you direct your attitude toward the black waves that decorate his head — tugging and ruffling his hair. Ace huffs a breathy laugh into your core, the warmth from his mouth causing your back to arch off the twin-sized mattress.

After what felt like ages of foreplay, Ace finally peels your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt. He places a long kiss onto your swollen clit before relieving you of your bottoms entirely. You spread your legs wider out of instinct, inviting him to drink in the way you taste. Ace brings your legs to rest over his shoulders as he dives into your core, hungrily exploring every fold with his tongue. His strong nose glides across your sensitive bud as he eats you out, his tongue rhythmically sliding in and out of your entrance. The sweet sounds of your slick against his mouth fill the room, your moans following closely behind. You begin to squirm underneath his grasp as you approach your climax, pressure building inside your stomach.

"I'm close, Ace" you plead breathlessly. "Please don't stop."

The trembling of your thighs was Ace's queue to increase his speed, lapping and suckling harder and faster to help you finish. He inserts his long, girth fingers into your slick entrance, hooking them up to find your sweet spot. The hiss of pleasure that escaped your mouth let him know that he succeeded, pumping his fingers in and out until your nectar coated them entirely.

"Fuck, Ace! I'm comingggnh ah-" you shouted, the combination of his strong fingers and his nimble tongue pushing you over the edge, your cunt squirting its sweet release all over his face and your freshly washed sheets.

"That's it, baby," Ace reassured, using his tongue to clean the mess from between your legs. He's always been a firm believer of prioritizing a woman's pleasure over his own, making sure you were attended to before he got his share. Once his hunger was satisfied (and you were a pulsing, shaking mess), Ace placed a kiss on your lips, giving you a taste of your own slick. Hungrily, you accepted the favor — wrestling against his tongue to absorb every fiber of his being. Ace pulls away abruptly, moving upward to nestle his mouth into your ear.

"Get up and turn around," he ordered, pulling back to give you enough room to do so. You complied with ease, climbing onto all-fours waiting for his next command. Ace places a firm hand between your shoulder blades, slowly applying pressure to push your chest and face into the mattress. He grabs a handful of your ass, playing with the plump flesh that steadies before him, ready to take him in at a moment's notice. Ace frees his pulsing cock from the confines of his boxers, lining his dripping tip with your buzzing entrance. Gripping onto your hips to stabilize himself, Ace slowly inserts himself into you, memorizing the way you snugly fit around him. A loud groan escaped your lips as you feel Ace bottom out, his cock being way bigger than you had expected. You gripped the sheets underneath you as he began to slide in and out of you, the friction both painful and overwhelmingly good as you're still riding out your previous orgasm.

"God you feel so good," Ace moans, eyes mesmerized on the way you bounce off his cock. Your slow, rhythmic pace increases as you crave more and more of his length, pushing your ass into his hips as you rock your own. You can feel Ace's hips buck and tense as your core pulses along his sensitive shaft, a rewarding whimper fleeing from his lips. "Fuck [y/n], slow down."

Strings of saliva connect your mouth and the sheet beneath you as you lift your head, turning around to meet Ace's eyes. You huff a laugh as you sinisterly decide to use your effect on the man behind you to your advantage. "Pull my hair, Ace."

Throughout the entire night, it had been Ace's suave advances toward you that allowed you to fall at his feet. But right now, in the dim light of your desk lamp, you decided to take control — wanting him to crumble and beg from inside you. Ace's concentrated expression quickly faltered, a mix of shock and excitement flushing his cheeks. "You sure?"

You nodded breathlessly, maintaining eye contact becoming more difficult as his pace quickens. He crouches over and plants kisses down the nape of your neck, traveling further down your spine as his lips mingling with the beads of sweat that pool in your curves. Ace places one final kiss before grabbing a fistful of your hair, swiftly wrapping it multiple times around his large hands to ensure a tight grip. The stinging sensation from your scalp causes you to wince, a moan of pain overrides the previous melodies that poured from your throat. Ace immediately loosens his grip, checking in and making sure you were okay.

"We can stop if it hurts too much," he reassures. You cursed yourself for worrying him, and let him know that you were okay and wanted to keep going. Ace trusted your word, easing back into his rhythm. The sounds of flesh slapping together fill the room as his pace quickens once more — this time you can feel Ace's knees begin to buckle as he reaches his climax. Sweet moans and whimpers rise from your throat, you thighs shaking as you come dangerously close to finishing once more.

"Don't come yet," Ace ordered, the authority in his voice returning, thick and firm. "I wanna see how beautiful you look when you do it all over my cock."

Before you could argue with him to keep going, he pulls out and flips you onto your back. The hair that was once in his firm grasp was now pooled behind your head, wet and sticky from your sweat and his mingling in his palm. Ace makes himself comfortable in the space between your thighs, scooping his arms underneath you to lift your chest to his mouth. He places kisses along your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples as he suckles gently on the skin. Slowly, he inserts himself back into your slick entrance, navigating through your warmth to find the center of your pleasure point.

Your face contorts into an expression you were entirely unaware of being able to create, eyes lolling to the back of your head as Ace slams into your g-spot just right. The words of encouragement that coaxed out from his mouth pushed you further and further to the edge, "That's it, baby. Just relax. You're doing great, mama."

"Fuck Ace, please go faster," you pant, begging him to ravage your body. Thankfully, he complied — quickening his pace, leaving loving bites on the soft skin of your shoulders. Ace's gaze returned to yours, watching intently as you reach your climax. He grips the handles on your waist as you shake and moan uncontrollably beneath him, letting you ride out your orgasm before releasing his own. You feel the thick ropes of Ace's cum fill you up, his pace slowing to watch the river of white pour out of your already-leaking hole. Ace releases you from his grasp, placing one final kiss on your cheek as he pulls out.

...

"Luffy's gonna hate me y'know," Ace teased, playing with strands of your hair as he spoons you from behind. The two of you had abandoned the soiled sheets and cuddled beneath one of your clean back-up blankets. Laundry day is gonna be a pain.

"He's gonna have to get through me first," you retorted, chuckling breathlessly as you catch your breath. Every problem, every stressor you had completely washed away at this moment. It was as if you had never felt peace and contentment until this very moment. You smiled to yourself, knowing that Nami would put this night into your never-ending pool of debt.

y'all have no idea how long this fic took me omg my chains are gone and i've been set free. but jokes aside this is one of my favorite things i have ever written and i hope u enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it :))

[starleska]

a PSA for anyone who is confused by the panic over the UK heatwaves! ☀️

the UK has an amber warning declared for a heatwave this weekend, where temperatures will reach above 30C (86F). to many, especially Americans, this doesn't seem like a notable temperature, and i've seen many ignorant posts mocking UK residents who are worried about how they and their loved ones will be affected by the temperatures. i'd like to explain why heatwaves in the UK are different than other parts of the world, and why they cause such a panic: 🔥 because we are an island nation, our heat isn't dry: it's horrendously humid. high humidity means that your lungs need to work harder to breathe, and it's much harder for your sweat to evaporate in the air. sweating is how your body regulates its temperature, and you sweat more in humid environments. when sweat doesn't evaporate it remains on the skin, leaving you feeling hot, sticky, and ill. 🔥 our homes and buildings are built to retain heat. because the UK is so cold and rainy for the vast majority of the year, our homes are supposed to trap heat, not let it out. not only are our homes smaller on average, but between double glazing, cavity wall insulation and loft insulation, when heat hits a British home, it causes a greenhouse effect. heat just sits in our homes, and it doesn't dissipate at night, meaning we are unable to sleep. 🔥 we have no air conditioning. i have never been in a home with air-con, and very few public buildings have it (except some shops). because of the aforementioned cold, rainy conditions that affect the UK for the vast majority of the year, air-con has never received a significant roll-out here. this means that we have little to no relief from being inside buildings besides being in the shade, and few homes even have fans. 🔥 our city centres are packed and highly urbanised, which causes heat traps. because our streets and homes are often stacked tightly together, including rows of houses/buildings/etc., heat in densely packed areas has nowhere to go, and will simply sit. trying to walk through a city during a heatwave will leave you sweating and exhausted in minutes. likewise, there are limited spaces to go to cool off during these temperatures: people will literally go to the shops to stand in the fridge/freezer aisles. 🔥 our infrastructure is not built to cope with heat. during heatwaves, our tarmac melts. the rails which hold our trains bend and warp. our grass catches fire. a few years ago, airport runways cracked and lifted in the heat, halting flights. the UK is brought to a standstill during high temperatures because our cities and towns are built for colder, wetter temperatures. add in the 16 hours of daylight we get during the summer, and you have a recipe for disaster. 🔥 the hottest temperature ever recorded in the UK is 40C (104F). this was in England, and in other UK countries, it's even lower: in Wales, it was 37.1C (98.78F); in Scotland, it was 34.8C (94.64F), and in Northern Ireland, it was 31.3C (88.3F). because these are our highest temperatures, many of us are unused to the symptoms which signify heat exhaustion or heat stroke. i need to emphasise: people die during heatwaves. i highly encourage people to read about the 2022 UK heatwaves, which saw the deaths of nearly 3000 people (many of whom were elderly). we could do nothing but hunker down and survive the heat during this time, and it was especially dreadful for anyone who is older, disabled, and/or neurodivergent. so while 30C is not unheard of in the UK, any heatwave poses significant risks, including illness, disruption to transport, wildfires, and even death. thanks for reading, and to everyone from outside the UK who's provided useful advice on keeping cool! i'm sure we'll be alright, but i'm hoping folks won't parrot misinformation about us just 'not being able to cope with the heat' 💔

[facts-i-just-made-up]

i need a list of your shortest facts to read off to friends in udder dead pan. most of the recent facts are too long to read off.

My shortest few factoids-

I've never written any short factoids.

I never tried to do one.

Short facts are hard.

Billionaire Howard Hughes once attempted to make a film of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and the production would become one of Hollywood’s greatest disasters, taking the lives of over 90 actors and crew, costing nearly half a billion dollars, destroying an entire island, and almost causing a 3rd world war. A party was held to mark the start of production at one of Hughes’ seaside homes and was sadly marred when a drunken Hughes began shooting into the air with his crossbow and killed an albatross, which fell into the punch bowl, offending several actors, who departed the production. This caused a massive production delay during which Hughes bought up over 50 warehouses (including the world’s largest building at the time) to hold the sets and specially built water tanks until casting was replenished. Two of these warehouses burned down (including the world’s largest building fire at the time), destroying the sets which then had to be rebuilt. By the time Hughes decided to cast unknown actors in the lead roles, ten more major set pieces had rotted away delaying the production further. Finally in October of 1948 the new sets and all actors were in place on the luxurious island of Bikini Atoll. The crew was to arrive at the shooting location on October 26th but was delayed by weather. This turned out to be a good thing as the United States conducted an unannounced nuclear test on October 27th, annihilating the island and the sets completely. The island is still toxic, and Howard Hughes, who owned the island, was compensated only $212 for his losses by the government. Undeterred, Hughes began again with fresh sets, and new actors as the previous group had long since departed by 1950. This time, production finally began and footage was shot. It was never developed however because despite the expenditure of $800,000 on pyrotechnics for the first scenes shot, nobody had thought to temperature-protect the film canisters, which were opened at the lab and found to have melted completely into what amounted to large plastic pucks. Hughes filmed the scene again, at the same cost, and then a third time when he was not satisfied with a background extra’s hair. This new footage too was lost when it was captured by rebellious 1950s teenagers who held it for ransom. They asked only $50 but Hughes refused to pay on principle. The actors and crew were even more upset than Hughes that their work had been for nothing and so began the “Leagues Riots” of 1951. What sets remained were once more burned down, this time in protest. Then the real problems began. By then, the Disney production was under way and Hughes spent millions more to spy on and sabotage the rival production. Several Disney employees fell victims to car bombs, others to arsenic poisoning, and one to auto-erotic asphyxiation, but Hughes was not considered responsible for that particular event. Walt Disney, of course, declared war. The “War Between The Sets” began in 1953 as Hughes forces were driven off by Disney’s hired guns, the Mouseketeers which in those days were a fully armed paramilitary force. This skirmish took seven lives, but it was only the beginning. Hughes used his government contracts to secure two bombers and arms weighing in excess of 500 tons, all of which were dropped on Disney owned installations. Disney’s retaliation was severe. Hughes hotels burned days after, there were so many fires that Vegas and LA were both lit as bright as daylight even at midnight from the blazes. Hughes responded with bombings and drone strikes, with “drone strikes” in 1953 referring to dropping bees on ones enemy. The conflict at one point threatened to spill over into Russia’s Southern American interests, leading the president to demand Hughes back down before turning the cold war into a nuclear conflict. By the time a truce was called, Disney’s film was in theaters and Hughes was ready to call it a loss.

Mice can't fart.

[bratzkoo]

WGM episode 7 | dk

episode 7: photoshoot

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: seokmin x reader Genre: fluff Rating: PG-13 Word count: 2.9k~ Warnings/note: fluff, fake marriage, and real feelings. cursing, seokmin curses a lot in his head.

summary: WE GOT MARRIED is back. Seokmin and Y/N pairs up to shoot 10 episodes for a special. Turns out, there are more things happenings off-camera than what meets the eye.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @ateez-atiny380 , @aeerio . @vernons-wifey12 , @odevote118 , @btskzfav , @codeinebelle , @syluslittlecrows, @minghaofied , @ikbennatas , @armycarat2612 , @smiileflower

requests are close, but you can just say hi! | masterlist series masterlist | previous episode | next episode

[Opening sequence: Highlights from Episode 6, showing their decoration adventure and resolved argument over the rug]

Narrator: "After successfully creating their cozy love nest, our newlyweds are taking their relationship public with a special photoshoot for a popular magazine!"

---

Seokmin sat in the makeup chair, trying not to fidget as the stylist applied what felt like the seventeenth layer of something to his face. He was no stranger to photoshoots—they were a regular part of idol life—but this was different. This was a couple photoshoot. With Y/N. For a major magazine.

The PD had informed them last week that they'd been selected as the featured couple for _Newlywed Life_ magazine's monthly spotlight. Apparently, their "We Got Married" pairing had been generating significant buzz online, with viewers particularly taken by Seokmin's impromptu wedding song and their cooking disaster turned success.

"You're very popular," the PD had said, looking smugly satisfied with the ratings. "The public is invested in your love story."

Love story. The phrase made Seokmin's stomach twist with a complicated mix of emotions. Because the problem—the increasingly undeniable problem—was that he was starting to forget this was all fabricated for television.

"You're thinking too loudly," came a familiar voice, and Seokmin's eyes flew open to see Y/N being led to the makeup chair beside his. "I can practically hear the internal screaming from across the room."

"That obvious, huh?" Seokmin asked, managing a smile despite the riot of butterflies her presence instantly triggered.

"Only to someone who's spent six episodes watching your every facial expression," Y/N replied lightly. "Your ears are also a dead giveaway. They're already turning pink."

Seokmin's hands flew up to cover his treacherous ears. "They're just... warm from the lights."

"Sure they are," Y/N teased, settling into her chair as the makeup artist began working on her. "Nothing to do with being nervous about the shoot."

"Why would I be nervous?" Seokmin asked with exaggerated innocence. "It's just a nationally distributed magazine where we'll be portrayed as a loving couple with potentially millions of people analyzing our body language and chemistry. Totally casual."

Y/N laughed, the sound still doing dangerous things to his cardiac rhythm even after all this time. "When you put it that way, it sounds completely reasonable to panic."

"I'm not panicking," Seokmin protested. "This is my calm, collected pre-panic state. The actual panicking comes later, right before the camera starts clicking."

The makeup artist working on him sighed dramatically. "Please stop making expressions while I'm trying to contour."

"Sorry," Seokmin apologized, attempting to arrange his features into a neutral mask. "I'll just sit here expressionless like a good idol."

"Impossible," Y/N commented. "You're physically incapable of having no expression. Your face has two settings: extremely animated or asleep."

"I can be stoic!" Seokmin insisted, attempting to demonstrate with what he hoped was a serious, brooding look.

Y/N burst out laughing. "You look constipated."

"Perfect!" Seokmin declared. "That's exactly the vibe I was going for in this photoshoot. 'Local idol appears constipated next to his gorgeous fake wife.' It'll be revolutionary."

Both makeup artists were now giving them exasperated looks, though Seokmin caught the whisper of "They're so cute together" from one to the other.

If only they knew the truth. Except lately, Seokmin wasn't entirely sure what the truth was anymore.

---

An hour later, they were ushered onto the set where the photographer and creative team waited. The concept, they were told, was "Domestic Bliss"—capturing the sweet, intimate moments of newlywed life.

"We want natural, authentic interactions," the photographer explained. "Forget the cameras are there. Just focus on each other."

Focus on each other. That wouldn't be difficult. Seokmin already found it nearly impossible to focus on anything else when Y/N was in the room.

She looked breathtaking in a simple white dress, her hair styled in soft waves, makeup natural and glowing. Seokmin himself had been dressed in light beige slacks and a blue button-up shirt, sleeves casually rolled to his elbows. They looked like they'd walked straight out of a romance drama.

"The first setup is in the kitchen," the photographer continued, leading them to a beautifully arranged kitchen set. "We're recreating your famous carbonara success."

Seokmin and Y/N exchanged amused looks. Their "famous" carbonara had become something of a running joke between them, with Y/N regularly texting him photos of pasta dishes she encountered with captions like "not as good as ours" or "they clearly didn't respect the egg yolks."

"Remember," the photographer said as they took their positions, "natural and intimate. Like you're cooking together on a lazy Sunday morning."

Natural and intimate. In front of fifteen crew members, three cameras, and the PD watching from the sidelines. TOTALLY NATURAL.

As the first shots began, Seokmin found himself hyper-aware of every movement, every expression. He'd done countless photoshoots before, but never one where he had to pretend to be in love with his co-star. The pressure to appear convincing was overwhelming.

"You're too stiff," the photographer called out after several shots. "Loosen up! You're supposed to be comfortable with each other."

Y/N sidled closer to Seokmin, speaking low enough that only he could hear. "Remember our actual cooking disaster? When you added enough gochujang to burn a hole through the pot?"

Despite his nerves, Seokmin laughed at the memory. "Or when you insisted that 'a pinch of salt' meant literally one pinch for the entire dish?"

"Hey, cooking instructions are unnecessarily vague," Y/N defended herself, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Perfect!" the photographer exclaimed, capturing their genuine moment of laughter. "More like that!"

And just like that, the ice was broken. As they moved through different poses—stirring a pot together, Y/N pretending to feed Seokmin a taste of something, Seokmin playfully dabbing flour on Y/N's nose—the awkwardness gradually faded. They fell into the easy rhythm they'd developed over the past few months, the banter and gentle teasing that had become second nature.

"Now let's move to the living room set," the photographer directed after they'd captured enough kitchen shots.

The living room setup was designed to look cozy and intimate, with a plush sofa, soft blankets, and warm lighting. This, Seokmin realized with a flutter of nerves, was where things would get more physically affectionate.

"For this series, we want to capture those sweet, quiet moments couples share," the photographer explained. "Reading together, cuddling, just being close."

Cuddling. The word sent a jolt through Seokmin's system. They'd maintained a careful physical distance throughout most of their filming, with only occasional hand-holding and the cheek kiss at the wedding. This would be new territory.

"Is that okay?" the photographer asked, seeming to sense their hesitation.

"Of course," Y/N replied smoothly, though Seokmin caught a hint of pink in her cheeks. "We're professionals."

Professionals. Right. This was just work. Not at all an excuse to hold Y/N close without the awkwardness of having to initiate it himself.

They settled on the couch, initially sitting with a respectable few inches between them. The photographer frowned.

"Closer," he directed. "You're supposed to be married, not strangers on a bus."

Y/N scooted closer, until their sides were pressed together. Seokmin could feel the warmth of her through his shirt, could smell her perfume—something light and floral that had become achingly familiar.

"Still too formal," the photographer sighed. "Seokmin, put your arm around her. Y/N, lean into him like he's your favorite pillow."

Oh god. This is fine. This is normal. Just a normal day pretending to cuddle with the woman you're definitely not developing real feelings for. COMPLETELY FINE.

Seokmin carefully placed his arm around Y/N's shoulders, hyperaware of every point of contact between them. She hesitated for just a moment before relaxing against him, her head finding a spot against his shoulder that somehow felt perfectly natural, as if they'd sat this way a hundred times before.

"Much better," the photographer approved. "Now look at each other like you're sharing a secret."

They turned their faces toward each other, and Seokmin's breath caught in his throat. Y/N was so close—close enough that he could see the individual flecks of color in her eyes, the slight imperfections in her makeup that only made her more beautiful. For a moment, he forgot about the cameras, the crew, the pretense of it all.

"Hi," Y/N whispered, a small, almost shy smile playing at her lips.

"Hi," Seokmin whispered back, momentarily lost in the unreality of the moment.

"Perfect!" the photographer exclaimed, the camera clicking rapidly. "That connection! Hold that!"

Connection. Was it still acting when it felt this real?

They moved through several more poses on the couch—Y/N reading a book while Seokmin looked over her shoulder, both of them laughing over something on a prop tablet, Seokmin pretending to play with Y/N's hair while she closed her eyes in contentment. With each setup, the initial awkwardness faded further, replaced by a comfortable intimacy that scared Seokmin with how natural it felt.

"Last set," the photographer announced. "The bedroom."

Seokmin nearly choked on air. "B-bedroom?"

"Nothing inappropriate," the photographer clarified quickly, catching their expressions. "Just morning coffee in bed, maybe looking at a laptop together. Wholesome newlywed stuff."

The bedroom set was tastefully arranged with plush white bedding, soft pillows, and warm lighting. Despite the photographer's assurances, Seokmin felt his heart rate spike at the thought of being in bed—any bed, even a prop one—with Y/N.

"Shoes off," the photographer directed. "And get comfortable against the headboard."

Seokmin slipped off his shoes and cautiously climbed onto the bed, hyperaware of every crease he made in the perfectly arranged comforter. Y/N followed, settling beside him with what appeared to be casual ease, though he noticed her careful maintenance of a few inches of space between them.

"Perfect. Now, Y/N, lean against Seokmin's chest. Seokmin, one arm around her while you both look at this laptop."

This is fine. Just work. Professional actors being professional. The fact that my heart is about to beat out of my chest is completely unrelated to anything happening right now.

Y/N shifted, leaning back against him tentatively. Seokmin wrapped an arm around her waist, trying to appear natural while fighting the urge to either freeze completely still or pull her closer.

"Relax," the photographer called. "You look like you're posing with a mannequin, not your wife."

Y/N turned her head slightly to whisper to him. "Your heart is racing. Are you okay?"

She could feel his heartbeat. Of course she could. She was pressed against his chest.

"Just... warm under these lights," Seokmin lied poorly.

"Mmhmm," Y/N hummed skeptically, but she mercifully didn't push the issue.

Instead, she surprised him by fully relaxing against him, her body softening as she sank more naturally into his embrace. The gesture of trust—even if just for the cameras—made something warm bloom in his chest.

"There we go," the photographer approved. "Now look at something on the laptop together—like you're planning a trip or reminiscing about photos."

They pretended to scroll through vacation destinations, making genuine comments about places they'd each like to visit someday. The conversation flowed easily, almost making Seokmin forget they were being photographed.

"Last few shots," the photographer announced. "Looking at each other, like you've just woken up and you're happy to see each other's faces."

They set the laptop aside and turned toward each other. In this position, lying on their sides facing one another, the intimacy was undeniable. There was nowhere to hide, no way to create distance without being obvious.

Y/N's eyes met his, soft and warm in the golden lighting. She smiled—not her camera smile or her professional smile, but something smaller and more genuine that made Seokmin's chest ache with longing.

"Just like that," the photographer said softly, the camera clicking gently in the background. "Perfect."

For a suspended moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, looking at each other with an honesty that transcended the artifice of their situation.

Then the photographer called, "That's a wrap!" and reality came rushing back in.

---

Later, as they changed back into their regular clothes and removed the layers of makeup, Seokmin found himself struggling to regain his emotional equilibrium. The shoot had felt too real, too close to the feelings he was desperately trying to keep contained.

"That was... something," Y/N said as they waited for the PD to finish discussing details with the magazine staff.

"Yeah," Seokmin agreed eloquently, still not fully trusting himself to speak normally.

"You were really good," she continued. "Very natural. I almost believed we were actually married at some points."

Seokmin tried to laugh, but it came out slightly strangled. "All those performance classes finally paying off."

Y/N gave him a curious look, something unreadable in her expression. "Right. Performance."

Before she could say more, the PD approached them. "Great work today! The magazine loved the shots. They want one more thing, though—a couple selca taken by you two for their social media."

"We can handle that," Y/N said, pulling out her phone. "We're practically selca experts at this point."

They positioned themselves against a plain wall, Y/N holding the phone out in front of them. Seokmin automatically put his arm around her shoulders, the gesture now familiar after hours of similar poses.

"Smile!" Y/N directed, but just before she took the photo, she turned and pressed a quick, light kiss to Seokmin's cheek.

The resulting photo captured his perfect look of surprised delight, eyes wide and a brilliant smile breaking across his face as Y/N kissed his cheek with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"That'll get the fans talking," she said casually, showing the photo to the PD, who approved enthusiastically.

"Definitely using that one," the PD agreed. "Great initiative!"

As the PD walked away, Seokmin touched his cheek where Y/N had kissed him. "A little warning next time?" he asked, aiming for teasing but landing closer to breathless.

"Where's the fun in that?" Y/N replied with a smile. "Your genuine reactions are always the best."

For the show, Seokmin reminded himself. It was all for the show. The kiss, the closeness, the casual affection—just creating content for the viewers, feeding the narrative of their fake marriage.

So why did it feel so real?

---

That evening, as Seokmin arrived back at the dorm, he found several of his members gathered in the common area, clearly waiting for him.

"How was the couple photoshoot?" Jeonghan asked with a knowing smirk.

"Fine," Seokmin replied, aiming for nonchalance and missing by a mile. "Very professional. Normal workday."

"Then why are your ears the color of kimchi?" Seungkwan observed mercilessly.

"It's hot outside," Seokmin protested weakly.

"It's literally raining and 15 degrees," Joshua pointed out.

Seokmin groaned, collapsing onto the couch. "I'm not discussing this."

"Discussing what?" Mingyu asked innocently. "Your completely professional, not-at-all-emotionally-complicated relationship with your fake wife?"

"Exactly that," Seokmin confirmed, throwing an arm over his face. "Nothing to discuss because it's just work."

There was a moment of suspicious silence before his phone buzzed with a notification. Automatically, he pulled it out to check.

It was from Y/N—the selca they'd taken, now posted on the magazine's Instagram account with the caption: "Love is in the air! Exclusive couple photoshoot with #WeGotMarried's favorite newlyweds coming in our next issue! #RelationshipGoals"

The members, who had naturally crowded around to see his phone, erupted in a chorus of teasing sounds.

"Just work, huh?" Hoshi said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"That's called method acting," Seokmin insisted, even as his ears burned hotter. "Creating content for the viewers."

"Method acting usually stops when the cameras turn off," Woozi pointed out unhelpfully. "That kiss looks pretty genuine to me."

"It was for the photo!"

"Keep telling yourself that," Jeonghan said, patting his shoulder sympathetically. "But maybe start thinking about what happens when the show ends."

When the show ends. The thought sent a chill through Seokmin that he wasn't prepared to examine.

Later that night, alone in his room, he found himself staring at the selca again. Y/N looked so natural beside him, so right. The casual affection of her kiss, the genuine surprise and happiness on his face—it didn't look staged or performed. It looked... real.

His phone buzzed with a new message.

Y/N: Magazine editor says we "have amazing chemistry" and wants to feature us in next month's issue too. We must be better actors than we thought.

Actors. Right. That's all this was.

Seokmin: My years of variety show training are finally paying off.

Y/N: The cheek kiss was genius, if I do say so myself. #ContentCreation

Seokmin: Very sneaky. Didn't peg you for the surprise attack type.

Y/N: There's a lot you still don't know about me, fake husband. 😉

That winking emoji would be the death of him.

Seokmin: Looking forward to discovering all your sneaky tactics over the next few episodes.

Y/N: Be prepared. I'm full of surprises.

Seokmin set his phone down, a complicated mix of emotions swirling in his chest. With each episode, each text, each moment spent together, the line between reality and pretend was becoming increasingly blurred. The problem wasn't that he couldn't tell the difference anymore.

The problem was that he didn't want to.

[self-loving-vampire]

Last night, Canada’s Liberal Party, led by Mark Carney, secured a victory in the 2025 federal election. Though the party fell short of an outright majority, it will retain control of the government. The campaign’s final stretch was marred by a surge in anti-trans rhetoric from the Conservative Party, with leader Pierre Poilievre releasing platform guidance that suggested possible bathroom bans and restrictions on transgender prisoners. In contrast, Carney—whose public support for LGBTQ+ rights has included his nonbinary child—offered a starkly different vision. For queer Canadians and those seeking refuge in a country that affirms their rights, the outcome was an unambiguous win. The outcome was uncertain as the election drew near—but for transgender Canadians, a Conservative victory would have spelled disaster. Pierre Poilievre, the Conservative leader, has repeatedly championed anti-transgender policies. “Female spaces should be exclusively for females, not for biological males,” he said in 2024, signaling opposition to trans people using restrooms that align with their gender identity. He also pledged to introduce legislation banning transgender women from women’s sports. In the final week of his campaign, his platform escalated further, promising restrictions on transgender prisoners and vowing to “ensure that women’s spaces and services remain protected in federal institutions and policy.” Canada, for a moment, stood on the brink of replicating the past three months of anti-trans rollbacks seen under Trump’s second presidency in the United States.

It is not comforting that the election was close, and there is still much work to do, but this both keeps Canada relatively safe for trans people and also strengthens our position for the purposes of campaigning against the STCA.

If you can, contact your MPs and urge them to make exceptions to or withdraw from the Safe Third Country Agreement with the United States. As I said before, we have a strong case to declare the US unsafe for trans people, and for refugees more generally. Inform yourself and make arguments based on the recent anti-trans executive orders and their impact.

I am already doing this myself and trying to get in contact with organizations or local trans people who may be willing to support the cause. The more people bring up the topic to them and the more people we reach the more likely it is that we will be able to get something done.

If you are contacting them by email, you will want to include your full name, home address, and postal code. Ideally you should try to call them by phone or even meet them in person (especially if you can convince a couple of people to come with you).

[undergroundusa]

There is a lot of disinformation coming out of the Left about a President's authority to nationalize, mobilize and deploy National Guardsmen. Let's clear some things up.

A U.S. president can deploy National Guard troops without a governor's request under specific circumstances defined by federal law, primarily through the Insurrection Act of 1807 (10 USC §§ 251–255) and other legal provisions. Here are the key scenarios:

Insurrection or Rebellion: Under the Insurrection Act, the president can deploy the National Guard (or other federal forces) to suppress an insurrection or rebellion against federal authority if it obstructs the execution of federal laws or threatens the government's stability. This can occur without a governor’s request, as the Act prioritizes federal supremacy (e.g., 10 U.S.C. § 252).

Domestic Violence or Unlawful Obstruction: If a state is unable to maintain order due to domestic violence or other crises, and this prevents the enforcement of federal or state laws, the president can act unilaterally to restore order (10 U.S.C. § 253). This applies when a governor cannot or will not request assistance.

National Emergency or Federalized Situations: The president can federalize the National Guard under Title 10 of the U.S. Code (e.g., 10 U.S.C. § 12406) during a national emergency declared by the president or Congress, such as in response to a major disaster, terrorist attack, or other crisis threatening national security.

Enforcement of Federal Law: If a state’s actions (or inaction) violate federal law or constitutional rights (e.g., civil rights protections), the president can deploy the National Guard to enforce compliance, as seen in historical cases like the desegregation of schools in the 1950s and 1960s (e.g., Little Rock, Arkansas, 1957).

Given these citations, President Trump is well within his right to not only mobilizr National Guardsmen, but active duty US military. So, the protestations by Gavib Newsom and California's AG, along with congressional Democrats is not only in grotesque error, it's disingenuous bullshit.

LARiots #Trump #NationalGuard #USMilitary #IllegalImmigration #ICE #Deportations #UnlawfulAssembly

[otomehoneyybearr]

Ikemen Prince 4th Anniversary Eve

Gilbert & Azel: The Relationship Unbeknownst to Anyone

Somewhere on a certain day—

Gilbert: "---I've always wondered if the conqueror beast and the sacred beast were one in the same."

Gilbert: "Both being evils of the world that control people and manipulate them as they please."

Azel: "I agree with the evil part. You and I would be better off not existing."

Azel: "We are both nuisances to the world, after all."

Gilbert: "Should we die together then?"

Azel: "You mean kill each other."

Gilbert: "That’s right."

Azel: "Disgusting."

Gilbert: "Agreed."

Azel: "So?"

Gilbert: "Hehe, no need to rush. I've went through the trouble of preparing food and drinks, so why not enjoy it first?"

Azel: "I'm having alcohol, while you're having water?"

Gilbert: "Oh, so you noticed."

Azel: "I am a god, after all."

Gilbert: "More like a con-artist, right?"

Azel: "That's another way to put it."

Gilbert: "Haha, you're not denying it."

Azel: "The title isn't that important."

Gilbert: "Really? I thought you’d be particular about it."

Azel: "Not at all. At least with you, being god or con-artist doesn't matter."

Azel: "I'm just a 'nuisance’ in the end, aren't I?"

Gilbert: "So you realized that."

Azel: "Just how many times do you think I've confiscated the weapons you smuggled into my country?"

Azel: "Can't you stop that? It's increasing my overtime and it's annoying."

Gilbert: "It only takes time because you carefully disassemble the firearms and send them back each time."

Gilbert: "Is that your hobby or something?"

Azel: "Do you want to be called a carefree rich boy?"

Gilbert: "Oh, so it was actually a declaration of war."

Azel: "If you understand that much, then don't bother asking. Tanzanite is the land of the gods,”

Azel: "So you should’ve realized by now that your spies and schemes are powerless in my sacred domain."

Gilbert: "Hmm, that's troublesome."

Gilbert: "It seems I miscalculated how difficult 'cleaning up' Tanzanite would be."

Gilbert: "Or perhaps I should say I underestimated you."

Gilbert: "Tanzanite has the lowest return rate for spies among the major countries."

Gilbert: "Currently you’re the only one from your country that's noticed my plans—No, more like, you're the only one at all."

Gilbert: "I thought that I could gather some information from you by sharing a drink, but..."

Gilbert: "You're quite hard to read. Is this what a god is like?"

Azel: "Donations are always welcome."

Gilbert: "Unfortunately for you, I only believe in myself."

Azel: "I figured as much. Spending time on you could be considered a waste."

Azel: "...Though a free meal does have its value."

Gilbert: "Haha, if you get along with me, there might be even better things in store for you."

Azel: "Not happening."

Gilbert: "Oh, that was an immediate answer. Despite us being somewhat similar."

Azel: "That's just slander."

Azel: "I don't distrust human potential as much as you do."

Azel: "Humanity doesn't need gods or beasts."

Gilbert: "...Is that so?"

Azel: "Want to bet?"

Gilbert: "Sure, sounds interesting."

Gilbert: "Your schemes are like mirages, vague and hard to grasp, but..."

Gilbert: "I'll bet on the foolishness of humans."

Azel: "Then I'll bet the opposite."

Azel: "I'll bet on the potential of humans."

Azel: "They have the ability to cleanse themselves. They can recognize and atone for their mistakes."

Azel: "Make sure to prepare your money, Disaster boy."

Gilbert: "You too."

Some little notes I had:

*: There's a possibility of Azel being older than Gilbert, seeing as he would attach things like (ーくん)-kun or (ーちゃん)-chan to the nicknames he gave Gilbert…That or Azel's was just trying to antagonize him.

**: Alternative interpretation of the nickname carefree rich boy could be 'airheaded/thoughtless young master'

***: Alternative interpretation of the nickname (厄災くん or yakusai-kun)Disaster boy could be 'Mr. Calamity'

I wasn't sure which of these interpretations would fit Azel's dialogue more, so I wanted to leave these notes so that everyone can get a general sense of the word/nickname.

Master List

▼・ᴥ・▼

[taleeater]

The Captive Scientist

Here is a very rough outline for an angsty Jayvik and Ambessa idea.

Tw: Ambessa cucks Jayce, slight non-con, abuse, illness

I went overboard and even wrote a happy ending after the angst 🫣

Ambessa arranges behind Mel’s back to meet the geniuses behind Hextec. Jayce is apprehensive, but Mel isn’t around to interject so he gets pressured into it. So Ambessa visits the lab with her guards, and as soon as Ambessa lays eyes on Viktor, she realizes this handsome twink is really the only one who is keeping Hextec research progressing while Jayce is too mixed up with Mel and politics. She decides then and there to steal him away for herself, and use him to advance her own holdings and army. Jayce is called away for some meeting and leaves, knowing Viktor can handle himself, but also not knowing about Ambessa’s unique… tastes and general demeanor. So once they’re alone, she forcibly comes onto Viktor. He tries his best to fight off her advances, and refuses to work for a warlord and leave Jayce, but she basically has him kidnapped. Jayce discovers that Viktor is gone hours later once Mel discovers what her mother has done. Jayce not for one second believes the claim that Viktor quit and is abandoning him and Piltover to work for Ambessa and go somewhere he’s more ‘appreciated’. So the night before Ambessa has arranged to go back to Nexus, with Viktor in tow, Jayce breaks into their room looking for Viktor, only to discover Viktor tied up on the bed being seduced by Ambessa. The guards apprehend Jayce frozen in his shock, and Ambessa has him bound to a chair in the room to make him watch. And Viktor, for one, is surprised that Jayce came for him, but also surprised to see Jayce seething with rage and… jealousy? It stirs something inside him. So Ambessa cucks Jayce and fucks Viktor in front of him. 

The next morning, Ambessa carries out a completely exhausted and barely conscious Viktor past an angry and upset Jayce. He doesn’t have the power to stop her. So Ambessa leaves Piltover with Viktor, and Mel and her guards later rescue Jayce from the empty suite. Jayce goes to the counsel to arrange for a rescue mission, but they won’t allow it because it would be like a declaration of war with Ambessa. They won’t risk war over a mere ‘Zaunite lab assistant’ when they have the real creator of Hextec right there in Piltover. Jayce is furious. Viktor is his equal, and they never would have gotten to where they are now without Viktor. Mel has to hold him back and convince him to wait. She’d do her best to pressure them, but in the meantime, she’d use her resources to arrange a secret infiltration mission to get Viktor back. But then, disaster strikes. The counsel is attacked and bombed by Jinx, and everything comes to a screeching halt. War breaks out between Piltover and Zaun, and Mel and Jayce are forced to dedicate all their time and effort into trying to quell the fighting. At least Viktor wasn’t there to get hurt, but Jayce can’t stop thinking about his partner. 

Here’s the other thing: Ambessa doesn’t know that Viktor is sick. 

Some time goes by, and Ambessa gets HexGates built in every major city under her control, bringing immense power to her empire. She spoils Viktor, giving him lavish gifts and pleasuring him when she has time, despite his continued resistance. He can’t do anything besides let it happen, because she holds so much power over him, and he is still a prisoner there against his will. Then the attack on Piltover happens, and Ambessa orders that Viktor not be allowed to find out. Knowing that he would become distracted from his work and she wouldn’t allow for anymore resistance.

Months go by, and Ambessa is losing her patience with him. No matter what she does, she cannot get Viktor to create weapons for her. Instead he makes tools, medical devices, agricultural improvements, structural improvements, everything for the betterment of the common people. But nothing to empower her military’s might. And another thing, Viktor is extremely limited in his research capabilities since he no longer has access to the HexCore. He misses Jayce and the memories they had together more than anything. The memory of the look in Jayce’s eyes that fateful night is still a constant presence in his mind. And that’s really the only thing keeping him going, as he slowly becomes more and more ill. But then one evening, Viktor has a horrible coughing fit in his lab that leaves him dizzy. He goes to the door to ask the guards to have someone fetch him some medicine, but then he overhears. The guards are quietly gossiping about the ongoing war between Piltover and Zaun, and how Ambessa was sending resources and troops to help Piltover exterminate Zaun. Viktor is SHOCKED. Immediately, his mind goes to Jayce. Was he okay? Was he injured? Was he fighting Zaun? Or was he fighting to protect it like he had promised him? So many emotions were swirling through him. He demands to speak to Ambessa immediately. 

This is where it gets messy. Ambessa arrives and listens as Viktor unleashes his fury, demanding to be released and set back to Piltover to find Jayce and help Zaun. He paces around the room ranting at her, until he gets up in her face waving his finger at her for working to commit a genocide against his people, when her stoic expression cracks. She backhands Viktor, hard, sending him sprawling across the floor and his cane clattering. He coughs as she approaches him, barely having time to push himself up on shaky arms before she reaches down and grabs the front of his shirt and hefts him up, feet dangling above the floor to hold him at eye level. “I think you’re forgetting who has the power here.” She threatens him as Viktor gasps for breath and struggles. She then drops him in a heap on the floor and leaves him, ordering the guards to make sure he keeps working as she leaves for the night, all his demands forgotten and brushed aside. 

Viktors life becomes a living hell. No more kindness, no more gifts or attention, or bribes, being forced to work tirelessly without rest for days on end until he collapses over and over again. No one will tell him what’s happening in Piltover, his body is failing him more and more everyday, until he’s left coughing horribly at almost all hours. Forced to work at his desk hooked up to all kinds of machines just to keep him breathing and healthy enough to work properly. And every time Ambessa visits it’s the same. He’s beaten for refusing her demands to design weapons, for not working harder. He’s no longer left alone to his own devices in his lab, he has guards armed with guns and lab assistants breathing down his neck to ensure he stays on task. 

It’s around this time that Jayce can’t stand it anymore. Caitlyn had taken over leading the purge of Zaun, and he didn’t have any power to stop Piltover from their invasion. Eventually his efforts to stop the fight got him evicted by the counsel, and he makes his decision. He was going to go find Viktor. Mel tried to dissuade him from his suicide mission, stating that she needed him there, despite Jayce’s distance and aversion to their relationship ever since Viktor was kidnapped. But he brushes her off. She gets upset and pressures him, and forces him to make a choice. “You can’t keep doing this. Will you fight for Piltover, or Zaun? You have to choose. Viktor, or me.” “I choose Viktor.” Jayce says it immediately with absolutely zero hesitation, but Jayce is just as shocked as Mel that he said it. He’s silent for a long moment, finally taking a moment to search inside himself for what he really wants. And it finally dawns on him. All he’s ever really wanted was Viktor. And Mel can see the realization on his face, sighing with defeat because she’s always known those feelings were there, and could do nothing about it. So she finally concedes, and informs Jayce that she will help him get Viktor back from her mother. 

She quickly arranges a task force, and sends word that she intends to visit Ambessa in Noxus with the intention of a diplomatic meeting to discuss aid for Piltover's fight against Zaun. So Jayce hides aboard her ship, and when they arrive at the Noxus capital, Mel gets information from some of the guards where Viktor is being held. She gives the information to Jayce, and covers for him while he sneaks into the tower where Viktor is being held. Mel distracts her mother with the meeting. But Ambessa can see right through her, and knows they’ve come to retrieve Viktor. But she knows Viktor is on death’s door, and she won’t be able to squeeze anything else out of the feeble scientist. So she allows for it to happen, and tells Mel right to her face that she shouldn’t try to deceive her family. Mel is shocked that her mother knew and confused as to why her mother is willing to give up Viktor so easily. Meanwhile, Jayce fights through the guards at the lab, and breaks in to find Viktor thin and worn, bruises on his jaw and peaking from any hints of uncovered skin, passed out at his desk pale as a ghost and bleeding from his mouth, his breathing labored and raspy. Jayce drops his hammer and rushes to his partner’s side, tears welling in his eyes as his hands hover above Viktor as he’s too scared to touch him. Viktor looks so fragile now, all his hidden strength Jayce came to know and admire over the years gone from his sick withered frame. Eventually Jayce’s hands find Viktor’s shoulders and he shakes him awake, calling out his name. Viktor blinks awake and thinks for a moment that he must still be dreaming, or dead. But Jayce starts to carefully disconnect him from the machines and IV, gently scooping him up in his arms as he mutters reassurances to Viktor that he was going to get him out of there, and bring him home safe and sound. But as Jayce is finally carrying him out of the lab, his hammer all but forgotten, Viktor finds his voice. “I-…. I never… wanted you... to see me like this… Jayce…” and Jayce’s heart shatters into a million pieces. 

He should have been there for Vik, should have come to get him sooner, and never should have left him alone in that lab, alone with Ambessa, and all those nights alone when he left Viktor to attend parties and be with Mel. His place was always next to Viktor. Jayce makes it back to the ship, with Mel close behind after her mother comes to see them off, with the promise that she will be visiting Piltover again soon enough. Viktor is fading fast the whole ride back to Piltover, and Jayce is panicking. He waited too long, and now Viktor was going to die if he didn’t do something. And fast. They arrive in Piltover and Jayce jumps out of the ship with Viktor in his arms before the doors even fully open, ignoring Mel’s shouts from behind. Jayce rushes to their old dusty lab, where the HexCore had been left all but forgotten those past few months. Jayce lays down Viktor and starts pouring over Viktor’s old notes and research with fervor, looking for anything, any way he can use their technology to save Viktor. 

Viktor ends up merging with the HexCore and becoming the Machine Herald. His life was saved, his illness cured and his body fixed. But this time, when Viktor emerges from the cocoon in the lab with Jayce, he receives a different kind of response than what he expected. Jayce declares that he loves him. Straight away, whole heartedly and truthfully, with every part of himself. He loves Viktor. And he should have realized it sooner. Should have stayed by his side where he belongs, shouldn’t have let Ambessa take him away, shouldn’t have let Mel and politics and power come between them and take him away from their dream together to save people, to save Zaun, and make the world a better place. And he wanted Viktor’s help to save Zaun from Piltover, once and for all. His words reach Viktor, touch deep inside him, and all at once his very human emotions come flooding back. This is everything he’s always wanted, it felt too good to be true. So to make it real, Viktor drops his staff and reaches up to cup Jayce’s face and kisses him. Like he had imagined time and time again, had dreamed about for months, for years. He needed to know if this love was real. The warmth of his lips and Jayce’s hands on him immediately burn away any lingering memory of Ambessa’s touch. And for the first time he feels whole and loved. 

Together, Viktor and Jayce, with Mel’s support, stop the fighting between Zaun and Piltover, defeating Caitlyn’s soldiers easily without her leadership now that she has reunited with Vi, and bringing aid to the Zaunite citizens. In Piltover and Zaun’s weakened state, Ambessa arrives with her army, carrying Jayce’s forgotten hammer into battle to take over the counsel and invade Piltover. Mel and Caitlyn, with Vi, Jayce, and Viktor’s support, face off against Ambessa, and manage to defeat her once and for all. Mel leaves for Noxus to take her mother’s place as head of the family, and arranges generous aid to be sent to Piltover and Zaun. Both cities repair themselves, and a new peace is founded as the city of progress becomes a state ruled by science and equality. Jayce gives up all positions of power so that he and Viktor can live together at the college peacefully. Inventing technology that improves the lives of all the people in Zaun, and across the world, and sharing a wonderful domestic relationship together into old age. 

Damn I really ran with this idea 😅 hope you enjoyed it.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Dave Granlund

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

May 20, 2025

Heather Cox Richardson

May 21, 2025

Today was a rough day for administration officials on Capitol Hill as Senate committees held hearings on the 2026 budget requests for the Department of Homeland Security, the Department of Health and Human Services, and the Department of State. The Senate Finance Committee also held a hearing for Trump’s nominee to be Commissioner of Internal Revenue, former Missouri representative William “Billy” Long. Democrats came prepared and demanded answers that the department secretaries and nominee were either unable or unwilling to give.

Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem was testifying before the Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee about the Department of Homeland Security's budget for fiscal year 2026. When Senator Maggie Hassan (D-NH) asked her to define “habeas corpus,” Noem’s response indicated she has no understanding of the nation’s fundamental law.

“Habeas corpus is a constitutional right that the president has to be able to remove people from this country,” Noem said. Hassan corrected her: “Habeas corpus is the legal principle that requires that the government provide a public reason for detaining and imprisoning people. If not for that protection, the government could simply arrest people, including American citizens, and hold them indefinitely for no reason. Habeas corpus is the foundational right that separates free societies like America from police states like North Korea.”

Noem’s habit in these hearings is simply to ignore questions and to attack, and she tried that with Hassan, suggesting that the president has the right to suspend habeas corpus if circumstances require it. Her position echoes that of White House deputy chief of staff Stephen Miller, with whom she appears to be working to render immigrants to prisons in third countries, but it is dead wrong. The Constitution permits Congress to suspend habeas corpus; not the president.

While Republicans were generally supportive of the Republican officials in the hearings, Senator Josh Hawley (R-MO) used his time to beg Noem for help for Missouri. The state has suffered a number of natural disasters, including a deadly tornado last Friday, but the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) has not shown up.

“The state has pending three requests for major disaster declarations from earlier storms,” Hawley told Noem. “[W]e’ve lost almost 20 people now in major storms just in the last two months in Missouri.” The Department of Homeland Security oversees FEMA, and Hawley asked Noem to expedite the requests and get them in front of Trump. “We are desperate for… assistance in Missouri,” he said.

When Senator Richard Blumenthal (D-CT) asked Noem how she planned to meet the needs of American people when the administration is cutting 20% of FEMA employees and the agency has lost most of its leadership, Noem talked over him and said the problem was that the Biden administration had failed the American people.

Over in the Appropriations Subcommittee on Departments of Labor, Health and Human Services, and Education, and Related Agencies, things didn’t go much better.

Health and Human Services secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. exploded when Senator Patti Murray (D-WA) asked him whose decision it was to withhold childcare and development block grant funding. Kennedy immediately pivoted to former president Biden’s 2021 budget. When she tried to get him back on track, he continued to talk over her, accusing her of “presiding over the destruction of the health of the American people” and of not doing her job. Murray repeatedly tried to recall him to appropriate behavior, finally appealing to the Republican chair of the committee, who asked Kennedy to stop.

When Murray repeated her question, he simply said the decision was made “by my department.” While he refused to take responsibility for the cuts himself, Murray did get him to admit that the department has blocked billions of dollars in federal child care funding.

Senator Dick Durbin (D-IL) spelled out for Kennedy his concern about cuts to research funding for the neurodegenerative disease amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), sometimes called Lou Gehrig’s disease. “On April 1, ten laboratory heads at National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Strokes received their layoff notices,” he said. “They were all PhDs and senior investigators. They're not administrators, whatever that might be. They were running intramural labs at NIH. If you have your way, they'll all be gone on June 2nd. Science magazine reported 25 of 320 physician researchers at NIH's Internal Clinical Center are leaving, and the number of patients treated in the hospital has been reduced by 30%. Three grants involving ALS and dementia work at Northwestern University [in] Illinois have been paused…. Just last week, an ALS researcher at Harvard had his grant cut.” Durbin asked: “How can we possibly…give hope to people across the country who are suffering from so many diseases when our government is cutting back on that research?”

Kennedy replied: “I do not know about any cuts to ALS research.” When Durbin responded, “I just read them to you,” Kennedy reiterated that he didn’t “know about them until you told…me about them at this moment.”

Brenda Goodman of CNN noted that when Senator Jack Reed (D-RI) asked Kennedy about ending the childhood lead poisoning prevention program of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Kennedy assured Reed that “[w]e are continuing to fund the program.” Goodman notes that CNN reported in April that officials in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, had asked the CDC for help addressing lead hazards in Milwaukee Public Schools after the agency’s lead experts were fired. The CDC refused, possibly because Kennedy has said lead poisoning prevention would be moving from the CDC to his new “Administration for a Healthy America.”

Kennedy told Reed the federal government has “a team in Milwaukee, and we’re giving laboratory support to that, to the analytics in Milwaukee, and we’re working with the health department in Milwaukee.”

Officials in Milwaukee said that was untrue. “The City of Milwaukee Health Department is not receiving any federal epidemiological or analytical support related to the MPS lead hazard crisis. Our formal Epi Aid request was denied by the CDC,” spokesperson for the City of Milwaukee Health Department Caroline Reinwald told CNN. Earlier this month, Milwaukee’s health commissioner expressed dismay that the CDC’s entire team working on childhood lead exposure had been laid off. “These are the best and brightest minds in these areas around lead poisoning, and now they’re gone,” he said.

At the end of today’s hearing, Senator Tammy Baldwin (D-WI) corrected the record, saying to Kennedy: “There are no staff on the ground deployed to Milwaukee to address the lead exposure of children in schools, and there are no staff left in that office at CDC, because they have all been fired.”

Democrats on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee took Secretary of State Marco Rubio to task for abandoning the principles they believed he held when they voted to confirm him.

The administration rendered Maryland senator Chris Van Hollen’s constituent Kilmar Abrego Garcia to the notorious CECOT terrorist prison in El Salvador through what the administration said was “administrative error,” and yet officials are refusing to bring him back despite court orders to do so. Van Hollen reminded Rubio that they had served together in Congress for 15 years and that while they didn’t always agree, “I believe we shared some common values: a belief in defending democracy and human rights abroad and honoring the Constitution at home. That’s why I voted to confirm you. I believed you would stand up for those principles. You haven’t. You’ve done the opposite.”

Senator Jacky Rosen (D-NV) spoke to him “as a mother, a senator, and a fellow human being,” saying, “I'm not even mad anymore about your complicity in this administration's destruction of U.S. global leadership. I'm simply disappointed. And I wonder if you're proud of yourself in this moment when you go home to your family?" She noted how he appeared to have abandoned all his past principles, and said she no longer recognized him.

When Van Hollen told Rubio he regretted voting to confirm him as secretary of state, Rubio retorted: “Your regret for voting for me confirms I’m doing a good job.”

Billy Long had his own problems. In an opening statement, Senator Ron Wyden (D-OR) pointed out that Long was neither “an independent tax professional or somebody with extensive management experience.” He was simply a fierce Trump loyalist who would help Trump “use the IRS as a cudgel to beat his adversaries into submission.” Wyden also noted serious accusations against Long’s involvement with fraudulent tax schemes.

In his questioning, Wyden asked, “Did you promise any tax promoter you would help them if you got confirmed?” Long said no. Wyden followed up, asking if he had met with anyone when he was in Washington, D.C., for the inauguration and promised to help them. Long again said no, that he had been in his room for “about 50 hours” with food poisoning.

Wyden noted that staff investigators had tapes of a tax promoter saying he had met with Long at the inauguration and that Long had promised him favorable treatment. They also have another tape of a chief financial officer who had donated to Long after he was nominated for the IRS post, also saying he expected favorable treatment. Senators Wyden, Sheldon Whitehouse of Rhode Island, and Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts are currently investigating these tapes.

Warren took up Trump’s misuse of the IRS to hurt his opponents. Trump has threatened to revoke Harvard University’s tax-exempt status, although federal law expressly prohibits any official from using the IRS to punish any individual taxpayers. Warren tried to get Long to say it would be illegal for the president to direct the IRS to revoke a taxpayer’s nonprofit status, but he refused to. Warren concluded: “[T]he fact that you want to sit there and dance around about this tells me that you shouldn't be within 1,000 miles of the directorship of the IRS.”

The House was also a troubled place today, as Representative Nancy Mace (R-SC) used a hearing of the House Cybersecurity, Information Technology, and Government Innovation Subcommittee, which she chairs, to accuse her ex-fiancé and other men of sexual abuse. She showed what she claimed were naked photos of herself and other women, taken without their consent. These accusations echo those she made in a speech in the House on February 10th. The men deny the allegations, and one is suing her for defamation. She is taking the position that her attacks on them in Congress are legally protected by the Constitution’s speech and debate clause.

If Republican lawmakers didn’t seem up to their jobs today, neither did the president. He announced a “Golden Dome” missile shield defense system—a U.S. version of Israel’s “Iron Dome”—that he claims will be operational in 3 years and cost $175 billion. Experts say it is not yet possible to construct such a defense system for intercontinental ballistic missiles and that such a project could cost as much as $542 billion.

When a reporter asked Trump about the cost, Trump claimed “we can afford to do it…we took in $5.1 trillion in the last four days in the Middle East,” a wildly made-up number. Such a system would likely benefit at least one person: it would depend on thousands of satellites, a requirement that seems likely to benefit billionaire Elon Musk’s SpaceX.

Administration officials today seemed to illustrate their utter disregard for the work their jobs require and their refusal to govern for Americans. Instead, they seem to see their offices as ways to get access to large amounts of money and power they can use to impose their will on the country.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[darkmaga-returns]

“The thing about breaking the law is, there’s effectively a waiving of your constitutional rights that’s sort of inherent in our system, right? When you go to prison, you’re losing your liberty,” Crenshaw said in an interview with Fox News Digital on Tuesday, June 10. “So this is a very normal thing, and in the case of say, people who are here legally, but then committing acts of violence – in this case, we’re being really specific, during a national emergency, committing assaults against police officers, and destruction of property – that should have an effect and be on the list of things that allows for revocation of your status.”

According to early text of the bill, the measure would take effect in cases where a president, governor or local leader declares an emergency or major disaster to help federal authorities restore order during such periods, particularly when violent protests or riots involve non-citizens.

“What it would do is, it would give the administration the option to say, yeah we’ve rounded all these people up, half of them are U.S. citizens, okay, you’re going to jail for rioting. Maybe another quarter are illegals, well that’s easy you can deport them,” he said. “But what about the other quarter? You know, that might be…a number of legal aliens here rioting against America for enforcing our immigration laws. In our minds, you’ve violated that sort of social contract with the United States at that point.”

The bill has not yet been formally introduced, but if enacted, the legislation would make such individuals permanently ineligible to return to the United States.