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cheriewoo · 7 months ago

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Who’s The Boss, Babe ? | Jeong Yunho,Choi San,Jung Wooyoung ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 27 : Power Play

↬ [ Synopsis ] : In the boardroom, you are the BOSS fighting to secure the best deals for your beloved idols. But behind closed doors, in the comfort of your bed when your three dashingly handsome and irresistibly sexy lovers San, Yunho, and Wooyoung shower you with all their love. Then, the tables turn. They become the BOSSES, and you’re their BABE.

☆Word Count : 3.7k ☆Genre : Smut, Idol Au ☆Pairing : Idol! YunWooSan x Brand Manager! F.Reader

☆☆☆ WARNINGS : Pure smut (18+), formal company setting, heated arguments with authorities, praise, suggestive, power play kink, reader is at manager position in KQ, making out (in the meeting room), unprotected sex (be safe lil bunnies), foursome, edging, overstimulation, safe word, mild choking, fingering (fem recieving), dom/sub undertones, oral (both recieving), breast play, nipple play, pet names, slight degradation.

NOTE : Yes… I’m going to continue and complete Kinktober, even though we’re past the 31st. I really want to finish this challenge and not leave it incomplete, so I hope you all enjoy the story, ma chéries!

Your journey in marketing had begun with these San, wooyoung adn Yunho by your side and as your responsibility, before you climbed the ranks to become Ateez’s brand manager now representing the entire group.

If hiding secrets and carrying out sneaky acts was a game, you four were the masters, the top scorers on the scoreboard and the MVPs of the game.

Today was no different as you prepped yourself for an important meeting on which Ateez’s this comebacks sponsorship deals depended.

The meeting room was tense, filled with the rustling of papers and muted conversations as sponsors from various brands settled into their seats. As ATEEZ's brand manager, you had one goal today - secure the best deals possible for the group. Seated at the head of the table, you exuded calm authority, watching the faces of the sponsors gathered to discuss their partnerships with ATEEZ. Representing KQ Entertainment and the group, who observed quietly across the table, you were ready to protect their interests.

You exchanged a knowing glance with Hongjoong, ATEEZ’s leader, who gave you a reassuring nod, his expression silently conveying his trust in you to do your best for them. Seonghwa and Mingi, seated to his right, were calm, soft smiles on their faces, while Yeosang’s gaze drifted to the window, as if in his own world. Across from them, Jongho’s fingers turned the pages of the deal summaries in front of him, fully focused.

And then, finally, your eyes landed on the three little but somehow big at the same time devils — Yunho, Wooyoung, and San. All three wore confident smiles, but you could easily see the flickers of hidden desire beneath their innocent expressions. Yunho’s intense gaze lingered on you with a smirk, Wooyoung winked, offering a playful grin, and San gave a tiny thumbs-up, all gracefully hidden from the watchful eyes of the other meeting attendees.

As the clock struck 11:00 a.m., you took a steadying breath, ready to kick off the meeting. An executive from a high-profile tech company leaned forward, confidence in his posture and a slightly dismissive air in his tone. “We’re proposing a multi-platform campaign for six months, but naturally, the investment would need to be balanced with additional content requirements. We’d need access to their tour schedules, exclusive interviews, and regular social media engagement.”

You didn’t let his patronizing tone faze you. Instead, you replied with clear authority, “Your interest is noted, but ATEEZ’s social reach and engagement already deliver more value than most of your current brand ambassadors. If we’re extending access to exclusive content, the investment needs to reflect that value.” Your gaze was steady, voice unwavering. “The current proposal doesn’t align with the brand’s worth or the level of exposure you’re asking for.”

The executive raised an eyebrow, clearly not used to being pushed back on in negotiations. “With all due respect, we’ve worked with similar acts at the same price point,” he responded, his tone challenging.

Leaning forward slightly, you replied with a cool but assertive tone. “Then you’d know that ATEEZ isn’t a ‘similar act.’ They’re rising globally, setting records, and have a devoted fan base that’s growing by the day. The right deal here benefits both your brand and ours, and I won’t settle for anything less than a fair agreement.”

San, sitting across from you, concealed a small smile behind his hand, clearly entertained by your handling of the situation. Wooyoung exchanged a look with Yunho, admiration glinting in his eyes. They knew you were fighting for them, working to secure a partnership that valued them for who they truly were.

“Did she just say ‘won’t settle for anything less than a fair agreement’?” Wooyoung leaned over to Yunho with a smirk, feigning awe. “I think that’s the classiest way anyone’s ever told a sponsor to pay up or walk out.” He shot you a wink when your eyes briefly flicked his way, then leaned back as if he’d said nothing at all.

Yunho, seated next to him, chuckled under his breath, casting you an admiring glance as he whispered, “She’s really in her zone today. Almost scary how cool she is.” He nudged Wooyoung with a grin, shaking his head. “Guess we know why they call her ‘the ice queen of negotiations.’”

San joined in, his tone playful yet respectful. “It’s not just the sponsors who have high standards, you know,” he murmured, his gaze flicking briefly to you before returning to Wooyoung and Yunho. “She’s setting the bar for all of us. Makes me want to up my game just listening to her.”

Pretending not to notice their comments, you kept your focus on the sponsor conversation, yet their support echoed in your mind. Each subtle remark strengthened your resolve, reinforcing that they trusted you completely to handle the situation with poise and confidence.

The executive across the table looked taken aback but didn’t press further. Another sponsor took the opportunity to chime in, softening the conversation. “We absolutely see the potential here and understand the importance of aligning on fair terms. Perhaps we can look at additional options for exposure ? A dedicated photo shoot or a feature at one of our flagship events?”

You nodded, acknowledging the shift in tone. “That’s a step in the right direction, but I’d need a clearer outline of the expected deliverables and a budget adjustment to match,” you replied, your voice firm yet with a touch of negotiation. “We’re open to expanding opportunities, but it needs to reflect ATEEZ’s current standing and future potential.”

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Wooyoung giving you an approving nod, his lips curving into that characteristic smirk, silently applauding your persistence. Yunho’s gaze lingered as well, respectful yet subtly challenging, as though he was testing just how far you’d go to secure the deal they all wanted.

Leaning over to his friends once again, Wooyoung added in a low, playful tone, “I’m convinced she could get the CEO himself to sign on without even breaking a sweat,” earning a laugh from San and Yunho.

But as the meeting wore on, you couldn’t shake the subtle intensity in the room. Each time you made a point, your eyes would meet one of the boys’, and there’d be a flicker of something unspoken, a quiet admiration mixed with a tension simmering just beneath the surface. You were their representative, yes, but there was an understanding between you that extended beyond the business formalities of the room.

As everyone left the meeting room, Wooyoung, San and Yunho stayed back as you have asked them to fill in them with a few of their solo shoots and works for the comeback.

With the last person leaving the meeting room, the door clicked shut, leaving only the four of you in the silence. The air was thick, charged with something unspoken. Holding onto your notebook, you felt their gazes—intense and unwavering, zeroed in on you. Wooyoung, San, and Yunho were watching you, and the usual professionalism had melted away, replaced by lust.

“Come here,” you breathed, motioning for them to gather closer. They moved in, but as you began to discuss the final points about the comeback, you felt their attention slipping from business to something more personal. Yunho, close enough to feel his heat, leaned in, his dark eyes admiring your face. “You were incredible back there,” he murmured, his voice low, a smirk curling at his lips as his gaze dropped to your mouth.

San stepped forward with a mischevious grin. “Yeah, you really put them in their place,” he murmured, leaning in until there was no space between you. “But now, it’s our turn, isn’t it ?”

Wooyoung’s soft laugh sent a thrill through you. He leaned close, his breath warm against your ear. “The ice queen of negotiations,” he teased. “Let’s see how long the ice takes to melt.” His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your jawline in a slow, purposeful stroke, sending electricity down your spine.

San’s lips grazed your ear, his fingers tracing the curve of your shoulder. The touch alone made your legs weak, sending shivers down your spine as you held onto him for support.

Yunho’s fingers slid down your arm, intertwining with yours, his intense gaze holding yours as he tilted your chin up. His breath was hot on your skin, his lips brushing against yours before trailing slowly along your jaw, igniting a spark deep within you.

Wooyoung’s hands found your waist, pulling you to him, his mouth claiming yours in a slow, deep kiss that left you breathless. San’s hands were there too, holding you as his lips brushed your skin. “Guess we’re the bosses now, aren’t we babe ?” he murmured, his voice both challenge and a sweet declaration.

Surrounded by them, every touch, every look, every kiss pulled you deeper. The intensity was dizzying and consuming. Just as you were about to surrender, breaking every office relationships policy, the ring of your phone shattered the moment. You answered the call, barely processing the voice on the other end, your mind still clouded by the steamy kiss. Gathering your things, you glanced back, meeting their eyes still dark, intense and wanting.

You leaned close, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks, your voice soft with promise. “Come to my place tonight,” you whispered, your eyes flicking between them. “You’re mine tonight.” Then, with a final look, you turned and left, leaving the anticipation hanging in the air.

As promised, San, Wooyoung and Yunho were at your house in the evening as you all planned to relax in your living room watching a movie. You were perched up the coach with your head resting on Yunho’s shoulder who was on your right while San rested his head on your left shoulder. Wooyoung made himself comfortable on the floor while his head rested back on your thighs.

The horror movie was at its climax, you and Yunho’s gazes refused to leave the tv screen while you could hear San making scared noises while covering his eyes whenever a jumpscare happened but still his curiousity peeked and he would sneak small glances while Wooyoung fully hugged you leg, refusing to watch the movie anymore but also asking you if the scary scene was over or not. It was endearing and funny at the same time as the boys clung on to you.

“Scrady cats” Yunho muttered as you chuckled nuzzling deeper into Yunho neck as the movie for you wasn’t even that scary and at this point you were feeling more bored.

“Wanna do something more interesting babe ?” Yunho asked, his voice was low but loud enough to reach your ears, as you jolted up to meet his gaze. His playful puppy eyes and sweet smile heightened up your excitement as you call for Woo and San.

“Guys, still wanna watch the movie, or should we…” You barely finished the sentence before Wooyoung quickly turned off the TV, meeting your gaze with a glint of mischief. He shifted on the floor, fully facing you, and smirked, “The movie was boring anyway. I’d rather finish you than finish it.” His words drew chuckles from all of you as he gently rubbed your thighs, his warm touch sending a thrill through you. Meanwhile, San left delicate kisses on your shoulder, adding to the tingling sensation dancing across your skin.

Your tiny tank top and mini shorts provided them more than enough to touch, admire, and savor. Yunho slowly turned you toward him, his large hand holding the back of your head as he pulled you closer. His lips captured yours, while Wooyoung settled between your legs and San held your waist, bringing you even closer. Sandwiched between Yunho and San, you felt Wooyoung’s sneaky hands slide down to remove your shorts, his fingers working with surprising deftness.

“Remember, kitten, whenever it gets too much, use our safe word,” San murmured into your ear, his breath warm as you hummed in acknowledgment, all while sharing a deep kiss with Yunho. San’s mouth latched onto your shoulder, his lips caressing the butterfly tattoo on your back. His hands roamed up your sides, his gentle rubs slowly inching your tank top higher and higher.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung’s mouth left soft kisses on your thighs, his hands caressing your legs as he worked his way up, inching closer to where you ached for attention the most, already dripped wet with arousal.

Yunho deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth and sucking on your toongue, and you let out a soft moan that gradually turned louder as Wooyoung and San each focused on your most sensitive spots in unison.

Wooyoung’s mouth took you by surprise, his lips and tongue tasting you, indulging with eager slurps. “Mmm,” he murmured against you, seemingly satisfied with every lick he took of your wet core. San’s large hands found your breasts, and with your tank top discarded somewhere on the floor, he kneaded them with care, his fingers pinching and teasing your nipples until they perked, each touch sending pulses of pleasure through you.

Yunho bit your bottom lip, adding a sharp but delicious sting that made you gasp. Just then, Wooyoung slid one of his thick fingers inside you, the unexpected sensation causing you to gasp again. San’s movements on your breasts quickened, his skilled fingers squeezing and pinching, sending electric jolts down your spine.

Wooyoung added another finger, the stretch making you tense momentarily, but soon, it melted into something beautifully pleasurable as Yunho broke the kiss. He took in the sight of you, eyes half-closed, dazed with pleasure, and smiled as he rubbed your clit while Wooyoung continued to pump, his pace picking up, pushing you closer to release.

“Still holding up, kitten ?” San whispered in your ear. You nodded, and a loud moan escaped your lips as you felt yourself clench around Wooyoung’s fingers. The tension built rapidly, your body trembling on the edge of something big. With one last, perfectly timed pinch on your sensitive clit, you finally came undone, your release spilling over Wooyoung’s fingers as your body quivered. Wooyoung pulled his fingers out and, without missing a beat, slipped them into his mouth, tasting every bit of you like it was his favorite flavor.

A knowing glance passed between Wooyoung and Yunho, and they swapped positions with ease. Wooyoung moved to the couch while Yunho settled between your legs, his mouth eager to taste every last drop of you. His hungry lips latched onto you, licking and sucking, not letting a single trace escape. As you moaned, your voice filled the room, each sound encouraging them on. Wooyoung brought his fingers to San’s mouth, and San took them in, savoring your taste with a low hum that turned you on even more.

Your mind drifted back to the first time with all three of them. It had been overwhelming, so intense that you’d had to use the safe word, the overstimulation and all three of them at the same time was too much for your body to handle. Since then, it had happened twice more before your body finally adjusted to them. Their frequent visits had helped you get used to both the stretch and the intensity, the pain gradually shifting into pure pleasure each time. And now, it was all too easy to surrender completely to the sensations they gave you.

You were pulled out of your deep thoughts as San’s lifted you, holding you securely in his arms as he stood. Yunho was already settled comfortably on the couch, leaning back as his eyes turned dark filled with lust. Once Yunho was ready, San lowered you onto him, positioning you so that your back pressed against Yunho’s chest, bringing a rush of warmth from his steady breathing behind you. Wooyoung, meanwhile, stood near your head, his eyes shining with excitement. You tried to piece together their intentions, your pulse quickening as you wondered what new position they had in store for you this time.

The boys were full of surprises, each encounter introducing another thrilling variation. You remembered your first foursome with them, bodies pressed together under the steamy flow of the shower, where you first caught a glimpse of just how intense their fantasies could be. Now, each time you were with them, you were left guessing, an excitement that never tappered off.

As you settled, Yunho’s large hands wrapped around your throat from behind, his grip firm yet gentle, just enough to make you feel his presence without restricting your breath heightening the intensity of the dellicious moment. San’s hands found your waist, holding you in place, his fingers pressing into your skin as they grounded you. The three of them exchanged nods before finally meeting your gaze, a silent question in their eyes asking for your permission.

“Are you ready for us, babygirl?” Wooyoung’s voice was low and eager, each word laced with anticipation that sent a thrilling shiver down your spine. His gaze roamed over you, making your heart pound as you gave a playful nod. Without another word, San positioned himself at your wet core, pressing into you slowly, stretching you as he filled you completely. Yunho, right behind you, followed with his own hard length, pushing inside, making you gasp at the fullness of both of them, leaving your mind spinning.

San’s hands tightened on your waist, grounding you as he met your gaze, a spark passing between you before he started moving, each stroke deliberate and intense, reaching depths that made you shudder. Behind you, Yunho’s hands held you steady, mirroring San’s movements to create a steady, intoxicating rhythm that had you breathless with every second.

As San thrust forward, Yunho matched his pace, their synchronized rhythm sending waves of pleasure through you, filling you from both sides. Each movement was perfectly timed, their bodies working in unison, creating an overwhelming sensation that left you lost in the moment.

Wooyoung, standing near your head, leaned down and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You look incredible like this,” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. He guided himself to your lips, filling your mouth slowly, letting you adjust to his taste and warmth as he moved in sync with San and Yunho’s rhythm.

Their thrusts were perfectly in sync, and your body responded helplessly, completely lost to the rhythm they’d created. San’s grip tightened on your waist, his pace quickening as he drove into you harder, leaving you gasping. Behind you, Yunho’s hands shifted to your hips, pulling you back to meet his deep, powerful thrusts, amplifying every sensation.

Wooyoung’s hand cradled your jaw, his thumb tracing over your cheek as he encouraged you to take him deeper. His satisfied groans reverberated through you, his hips matching the rhythm San and Yunho had set, heightening the intensity surrounding you from every side.

San’s hand slid down to your sensitive spot, his thumb moving in firm circles that sent shocks of pleasure through you. Your body reacted instantly, arching as a wave of pleasure washed over you. Yunho slowed for a brief moment, letting you catch your breath before resuming, each thrust more intense, pushing you closer to release.

“Just like that, keep going,” Wooyoung whispered, his hand shifting to the back of your head. His voice was soothing, a contrast to their increasingly urgent rhythm. His hips moved steadily, his heavy breaths syncing with the sounds escaping you. Together, the three of them created a rhythm that left you gasping, with no choice but to surrender.

With each thrust, the tension in your core grew tighter, the pleasure coiling to an almost unbearable peak. Finally, as San’s thumb pressed harder and Yunho’s grip tightened, the release overtook you. Heat rushed through you in waves, leaving you breathless and shaking as you came undone.

San groaned deeply, his pace slowing briefly as he felt you tighten around him. With a final shared glance, the three of them pulled out together, each one spilling over your stomach, warmth pooling across your skin as they let out satisfied, heavy breaths.

They steadied you in the aftermath, soft touches grounding you as they ran their hands along your skin. Wooyoung leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his smile gentle and content. You lay there, basking in the warmth of their presence, a shared moment of closeness and quiet satisfaction.

As the aftershocks pulsed through you, their touches softened, turning from intense to gentle, grounding you in the moment. Heavy breaths filled the room as their hands traced light patterns along your skin, enveloping you in warmth and closeness.

San brushed a hand through your hair, murmuring, “You did so well… perfect for us.” He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his touch warm and steady. Yunho’s hands squeezed your hips gently as he whispered, “You’re incredible, so beautiful.” His lips brushed your neck in soft kisses, his voice soothing and tender.

Wooyoung cradled your face, his gaze warm. “Amazing, babygirl,” he praised, while cleaning you off as you still recovered from the intense high.

Their words and touches surrounded you, filling the afterglow with soft praise and affection, a moment of perfect connection between you all.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

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axolterp · 26 days ago

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Axolt: Modern ERP and Inventory Software Built on Salesforce

Today’s businesses operate in a fast-paced, data-driven environment where efficiency, accuracy, and agility are key to staying competitive. Legacy systems and disconnected software tools can no longer meet the evolving demands of modern enterprises. That’s why companies across industries are turning to Axolt, a next-generation solution offering intelligent inventory software and a full-fledged ERP on Salesforce.

Axolt is a unified, cloud-based ERP system built natively on the Salesforce platform. It provides a modular, scalable framework that allows organizations to manage operations from inventory and logistics to finance, manufacturing, and compliance—all in one place.

Where most ERPs are either too rigid or require costly integrations, Axolt is designed for flexibility. It empowers teams with real-time data, reduces manual work, and improves cross-functional collaboration. With Salesforce as the foundation, users benefit from enterprise-grade security, automation, and mobile access without needing separate platforms for CRM and ERP.

Smarter Inventory Software Inventory is at the heart of operational performance. Poor inventory control can result in stockouts, over-purchasing, and missed opportunities. Axolt’s built-in inventory software addresses these issues by providing real-time visibility into stock levels, warehouse locations, and product movement.

Whether managing serialized products, batches, or kits, the system tracks every item with precision. It supports barcode scanning, lot and serial traceability, expiry tracking, and multi-warehouse inventory—all from a central dashboard.

Unlike traditional inventory tools, Axolt integrates directly with Salesforce CRM. This means your sales and service teams always have accurate availability information, enabling faster order processing and better customer communication.

A Complete Salesforce ERP Axolt isn’t just inventory software—it’s a full Salesforce ERP suite tailored for businesses that want more from their operations. Finance teams can automate billing cycles, reconcile payments, and manage cash flows with built-in modules for accounts receivable and payable. Manufacturing teams can plan production, allocate work orders, and track costs across every stage.

#Axolt ERP #Axolt #Inventory software #Salesforce ERP #ERP on Salesforce #Cloud ERP (Saas)

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a-d-nox · 6 months ago

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economic advice and timely buying tips: 2025 transits

as of late, social media has many discussions about what to buy - or avoid buying - over the next few years, largely in response to the political climate in the united states. across europe, many regions are actively preparing their populations for potential crises (sweden's seems to be the most popularly discussed - link). due to the urgency and pressure to act, as if the world might change tomorrow (and it could though i believe we still have time in many places), i’ve decided to analyze the astrological transits for 2025. in this post i provide practical economic advice and guidance on how much time astrology suggests you have to make these purchases everyone is urging you to prioritize. if it seems to intrigue people i’ll explore future years as well.

things the world needs to prepare for in 2025 in my opinion and why my advice is what it is: the rise of ai / automation of jobs, job loss, geopolitical tensions, war, extreme weather, inflation, tariffs - a potential trade war, a movement of using digital currency, the outbreak of another illness, etc.

paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu

enjoy my work? help me continue creating by tipping on ko-fi or paypal. your support keeps the magic alive!

uranus goes direct in taurus (jan 30, 2025)

advice

diversify investments: avoid putting all your money in one asset type. mix stocks, bonds, index funds, and, if you feel comfortable, look into sustainable investments or new technologies.

digital finance: familiarize yourself with digital currencies/platforms or blockchain technology.

build an emergency fund: extra savings can shield you from sudden economic instability. aim for 3-6 months’ worth of expenses.

reevaluate subscriptions and spending: find creative ways to reduce spending or repurpose what you have. cancel subscriptions that don't align with needs/beliefs, cook at home, or diy where possible.

invest in skills / side hustles: take a course/invest in tools that can help you create multiple income streams.

by this date stock up on

non-perishable food items like canned goods, grains, and dried beans. household essentials like soap, toothpaste, and cleaning supplies. basic medical supplies. multi-tools. durable, high-quality items over disposable ones (the economy is changing, buy something that will last because prices will go up). LED bulbs, solar-powered chargers, or energy-efficient appliances. stock up on sustainable products, like reusable bags and water bottles. blankets. teas. quality skincare.

jupiter goes direct in gemini (feb 4, 2025)

advice

invest in knowledge: take courses, buy books (potential bans?), and/or attend workshops to expand your skill set. focus on topics like communication, writing, marketing, and/or technology. online certifications could boost your career prospects during this time.

leverage your network: attending professional events, joining forums, and/or expanding your LinkedIn presence.

diversify income streams: explore side hustles, freelance gigs, and/or monetize hobbies.

beware of overspending on small pleasures: overspending on gadgets, books, or entertainment will not be good at this point in time (tariffs already heavy hitting?).

by this date stock up on

books / journals. subscriptions to learning platforms like Skillshare, MasterClass, or Coursera. good-quality laptop, smartphone, and/or noise-canceling headphones. travel bags - get your bug out bag in order. portable chargers. language-learning apps. professional attire. teas. aromatherapy.

neptune enters aries (march 30, 2025)

advice

invest: look into industries poised for breakthrough developments, such as renewable energy, space exploration, and/or tech.

save for risks: build a financial cushion to balance your adventurous pursuits with practical security.

diversify your income: consider side hustles or freelancing in fields aligned with your passions and talents.

"scam likely": avoid “get-rich-quick” schemes or ventures that seem too good to be true.

adopt sustainable habits: focus on sustainability in your spending, like buying high-quality, long-lasting items instead of cheap, disposable ones.

by this date stock up on

emergency kits with essentials like water, food, and first-aid supplies. multi-tools, solar chargers, or portable power banks. art supplies. tarot or astrology books (bans?). workout gear, resistance bands, or weights. nutritional supplements. high-quality clothing or shoes.

saturn conjunct nn in pisces (april 14, 2025)

advice

save for the long term: create a savings plan or revisit your budget to ensure stability.

avoid escapism spending: avoid unnecessary debt.

watch for financial scams: be cautious with contracts, investments, or loans. research thoroughly and avoid “too good to be true” offers.

focus on debt management: saturn demands accountability. work toward paying down debts to free yourself from unnecessary burdens.

build a career plan: seek roles / opportunities that balance financial security with fulfillment, such as careers in wellness, education, creative arts, or nonprofits.

by this date stock up on

invest in durable, sustainable items for your home or wardrobe that offer long-term value. vitamins or supplements. herbal teas or whole grains. blankets. candles. non-perishable food. first-aid kits. water. energy-efficient devices.

pluto rx in aquarius (may 4, 2025 - oct 13, 2025)

advice

preform an audit: reflect on how your money habits and your long-term goals.

make sustainable investments: support industries tied to innovation, like renewable energy, ethical tech, or sustainable goods.

expect changes: could disrupt collective systems, so build an emergency fund. plan for potential shifts in tech-based industries or automation. AI is going to take over the workforce...

reevaluate subscriptions and digital spending: cut unnecessary costs and ensure your money supports productivity. netflix is not necessary, your groceries are.

diversify income streams: brainstorm side hustles or entrepreneurial ideas.

by this date stock up on

external hard drives. cybersecurity software. portable chargers. solar panels. energy-efficient gadgets. non-perishable food. clean water supplies. basic first-aid kits and medications. portable generators. books on technology and coding. reusable items like water bottles, bags, and food storage. gardening supplies to grow your own food. VPN subscriptions or identity theft protection.

saturn enters aries (may 24, 2025)

advice

prioritize self-reliance: build financial independence. create a budget, eliminate debt, and establish a safety net to support personal ambitions. avoid over-reliance on others for financial stability/decision-making.

entrepreneurship: consider starting a side hustle / investing in yourself.

save for big goals: plan for major life changes, such as buying property, starting a business, etc. make a high yield saving account for these long-term goals.

by this date stock up on

ergonomic office equipment. home gym equipment. non-perishable foods and water supplies for potential unexpected disruptions. self-protection; consider basic tools or training for safety. high-protein snacks, energy bars, or hydration supplies. supplements like magnesium, B-complex vitamins, etc. stock up on materials for DIY projects, hobbies, or entrepreneurial ventures.

jupiter enters cancer (june 9, 2025)

advice

invest in your home: renovating what needs renovating. saving for a down payment on a house.

focus on security: start or increase your emergency savings. consider life insurance or estate planning to ensure long-term security for your family/loved ones.

embrace conservative financial growth: cancer prefers security over risk. opt for conservative investments, like bonds, real estate, and/or mutual funds with steady returns.

focus on food and comfort: spend wisely on food, cooking tools, or skills that promote a healthier, more fulfilling lifestyle (maybe this an RFK thing for my fellow american readers or this could be about the fast food industry suffering from inflation).

by this date stock up on

furniture upgrades if you need them. high-quality cookware or tools. stockpile your pantry staples. first-aid kits, fire extinguishers, and home security systems. water and canned goods for emergencies. paint, tools, or materials for DIY projects. energy-efficient appliances or upgrades to reduce utility costs.

neptune rx in aries/pisces (july 4, 2025 - dec 10, 2025)

advice

avoid financial conflicts: be mindful of shared finances or joint ventures during this time.

avoid escapist spending: stick to a budget.

by this date stock up on

first-aid kits, tools, and essentials for unforeseen events. water filter / waterproof containers. non-perishables and emergency water supplies.

uranus rx in gemini/taurus (july 7, 2025 - feb 3, 2026)

advice

evaluate technology investments: make sure you’re spending money wisely on tech tools, gadgets, or subscriptions. avoid impulsively purchasing the latest gadgets; instead, upgrade only what’s necessary.

diversify streams of income: explore side hustles or gig work to expand your income sources. focus on digital platforms or innovative fields for additional opportunities.

reassess contracts and agreements: take time to revisit financial contracts or business partnerships. ensure all terms are clear and aligned with your goals.

prioritize financial stability: uranus often brings surprises, so focus on strengthening your savings and emergency fund.

avoid major financial risks: uranus retrograde can disrupt markets. avoid speculative ventures and focus on stable, low-risk options.

by this date stock up on

lightweight travel gear or items for local trips. radios, power banks, or portable hotspots in case of disruptions in digital connectivity. stockpile food, water, and household goods to maintain stability during potential disruptions. invest in high-quality, long-lasting items like tools, clothing, or cookware.

saturn rx in aries/pisces (july 13, 2025 - nov 27, 2025)

advice

review career: assess whether your current job or entrepreneurial efforts align with your long-term aspirations (especially considering the state of the world). adjust plans if needed.

strengthen emergency funds: aries energy thrives on readiness. use this time to build/bolster a financial safety net for unforeseen events.

prepare for uncertainty: build a cushion for unexpected financial changes, especially if you work in creative, spiritual, or service-oriented fields.

by this date stock up on

health products that support long-term well-being. essential supplies like first-aid kits, multi-tools, or non-perishables. bath products. teas. art supplies. drinking water or water filtration tools.

jupiter rx in cancer (nov 11, 2025 - march 10, 2026)

advice

strengthen financial foundations: building an emergency fund or reassessing your savings strategy. ensure everything is well-organized and sustainable.

by this date stock up on

quality kitchenware, tools, or cleaning supplies. pantry staples and emergency food supplies.

have ideas for new content? please use my “suggest a post topic” button!

return to nox's guide to metaphysics

return to the masterlist of transits

#astrology #astro community #astro placements #astro chart #astrology tumblr #astro notes #astrology chart #astrology readings #astro #astrology signs #astro observations #astroblr #astrology blog #astrology stuff #natal astrology #transit astrology #transit chart #astrology transits

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ghostwarriorrrr · 11 months ago

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🇹🇷🔥 Turkish Air Force - F-4E 2020 Terminator

The F-4E 2020 Terminator represents a significant leap forward in the capabilities of the Turkish Air Force. This comprehensive upgrade enhances the venerable F-4E Phantom II with modern Turkish-made weapons systems, showcasing Türkiye’s commitment to self-reliance and advanced military technology.

Background

With a storied history dating back to the 1960s, the F-4E Phantom II has been a pivotal player on the global stage of air combat. Serving multiple nations and seeing numerous conflicts, the Phantom carved out its place in aviation history as a versatile and rugged aircraft. Türkiye’s decision to upgrade this aircraft stems from a strategic imperative to leverage existing assets while infusing them with cutting-edge technology to maintain relevance in modern aerial warfare. The 2020 Terminator program is the Turkish Air Force’s ambitious initiative to retrofit these fighters with state-of-the-art systems.

Strategic Importance

The ability to exert air superiority and conduct precision strikes is paramount in a region marked by dynamic security challenges. The F-4E 2020 Terminator’s enhanced capabilities contribute significantly to deterrence, and the demonstration of Türkiye’s advancing aerospace industry serves both a strategic and diplomatic purpose.

Upgrade Overview

The 2020 Terminator upgrade, realized by Turkish Aerospace Industries in collaboration with ASELSAN, constitutes a multifaceted improvement over the aircraft’s original design. It touches every aspect of the aircraft’s systems, bringing its avionics, armaments, and electronic warfare systems into the 21st century.

Avionics:

The modernized multi-mode pulse Doppler radar extends the aircraft’s detection range, allowing it to lock onto and engage targets from greater distances. Integrating a Hands-On Throttle-And-Stick (HOTAS) system enhances pilot control, minimizing response time during high-stakes manoeuvres. Color Multifunctional Displays (MFDs) replace outdated gauges, providing pilots with real-time data visualization for improved situational awareness.

Armament:

The Terminator’s weapons suite has been revolutionized with a mixture of Western and indigenous munitions. Long-standing armaments like the AIM-9X Sidewinder are joined by Türkiye’s own precision-guided munitions, such as the SOM cruise missile, capable of striking strategic land and sea targets with formidable accuracy. The UAV-230, a domestic innovation, represents the pinnacle of Türkiye’s missile development, offering supersonic ballistic delivery of a range of warhead types over substantial distances. The BOZOK, MAM-C, MAM-L, and Cirit missiles exemplify Türkiye’s expertise in laser guidance and smart munition technology, enabling the Terminator to engage and defeat a broad spectrum of target profiles with unerring precision.

Electronic Warfare:

To contend with the contemporary battlefield’s electronic warfare environment, the F-4E 2020 Terminator incorporates an advanced Electronic Support Measures (ESM) system for rapid threat identification and an Electronic Countermeasures (ECM) suite to confound hostile tracking systems. Moreover, chaff and flare dispensers have been integrated to provide decoys against incoming missile threats, enhancing the aircraft’s survivability in hostile airspace.

Operational Capability:

The F-4E Phantom II, transformed by these integrated systems, emerges as a multirole platform capable of dominating beyond-visual-range air-to-air engagements and precision ground-attack missions. It can operate in complex electronic warfare environments and deliver various ordnances based on mission requirements, making it a flexible asset in the Türkiye Air Force’s inventory.

Significance:

The F-4E 2020 Terminator project is a hallmark of Türkiye’s aerospace ambition and its push toward defence autonomy. By retrofitting and modernizing its Phantoms, Türkiye maximizes the value of its existing fleet while also establishing a foundation for future indigenous aircraft development projects.

Munitions Details:

The advanced, indigenous Turkish weaponry integrated into the F-4E 2020 Terminator underlines a significant shift toward self-reliance in defence technologies. Each munition type brings unique capabilities that enhance the platform’s lethality:

UAV-230: A domestically-developed ballistic missile, this supersonic weapon delivers high-precision strikes at long ranges, challenging enemy defences with its speed and reduced radar cross-section.

BOZOK: The versatility of this laser-guided munition makes it ideal for engaging both stationary and moving targets with high precision, ideal for close air support.

MAM-C/L: These smart micro munitions are designed for tactical flexibility, allowing for precision targeting in complex engagement scenarios, from anti-armour operations to counter-insurgency roles.

Cirit: A highly accurate laser-guided missile system designed for low collateral damage, Cirit is adept at striking soft and lightly armoured targets with pinpoint accuracy.

SAGE Munitions: TUBITAK SAGE, Türkiye’s leading defence research and development institute, has contributed a range of munitions enhancing the Terminator’s operational capabilities across various domains.

Conclusion:

The upgraded F-4E 2020 Terminator is a testament to Türkiye’s determination to retain a competitive edge in aerospace and defence technologies. The integration of modern avionics, armaments, and electronic warfare capabilities ensures the aircraft’s continued relevance in modern air combat, and its presence in the skies serves as a deterrent in a strategically complex region.

#turkish army #turkish armed forces #turkish air force #turkishnavy #turkish navy #turkish #military #aircraft #air force #fighter jet #aviation #fighter plane #plane #airplane #military aviation #military aircraft #f 4 phantom ii #f 4 phantom #f 4e

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howlsofbloodhounds · 4 months ago

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Idk if u answered this before but would color have social media

cause idk why but I find it funny as hell that they would know brainrot and the souls would be laughing about it so much

I personally don’t think he’d be on social media much, at least not compared to Epic or Killer.

He’d definitely have a phone and probably has a few games and social media apps downloaded, like Tumblr mainly because he likes the stimboards and looking at posts about his interests, probably has YouTube.

I can only see him having TikTok because Killer and Epic kept sending him videos via text messages that he could never watch because he didn’t have the app downloaded.

Other than that, I think not only is Color very behind on recent apps, trends, memes, etc. due to his decades of isolation and having to figure out how to operate and adjust to technology again (especially recently developed technology that he might’ve missed out on during his time in the Void), but I also don’t think he spends much time on his phone except during periods where he felt too alone and isolated (during his time in the hospital perhaps) and during the period where his and Killer’s friendship was still developing during Killer’s time under Nightmare.

I’m considering the idea that maybe lurking on social media apps, not doing anything but watching videos and reading comments or just silently watching other people talk to each other in discord servers or group chats, could potentially help Color feel less alone without the overwhelm and stress of having to physically be around people before his mind and body has time to adjust to it.

But there’s also the possibility that lurking in group chats and not being acknowledged because he’s not chiming in to chat—or worse, deciding to chime in and being ignored—could trigger an episode of derealization in him.

He can’t see, touch, or even hear the people that’s supposedly behind the screens and typing those messages—he has no proof they’re actually real. He has no proof that his existence is still real, and that he hasn’t been forgotten or erased again.

These times are probably when he needs to take breaks from social media, from his phone, and try to find a way to ground himself before he spirals into a panic attack or an episode of psychosis.

On top of this, with time still moving on while he was in the Void and there being no technology during his time in captivity—and very little activities to do to keep his mind and body active—not only would Color be very far behind in technological advancements, but he may struggle with cognitive decline—such as memory degeneration or struggle with memory retrieval.

So even if he’s handed a phone he knew existed before he fell into the Void—even if he knows that he understood how to use this phone before—he’ll still struggle to recall how to use it.

Skills require reinforcement. Without practice, even basic technological skills (like using a phone, typing, or navigating software) could deteriorate. If he used to code, edit videos, or operate specific devices, those abilities might be rusty or completely forgotten.

Without the mental exercise of problem-solving daily issues (which technology often requires), their ability to “figure things out” could be impaired.

He might experience anxiety or frustration when encountering technology, feeling overwhelmed by how much they don’t understand.

Phones, computers, smart assistants, AR/VR, and even basic interfaces would feel foreign. He might not immediately understand touchscreen gestures, biometric security (face ID, fingerprint scanning), or AI assistants.

With social media platforms, he wouldn’t understand what’s popular, how they work, or digital etiquette. They might not recognize how entertainment has shifted from DVDs or early internet platforms to on-demand streaming.

Entire ways of communicating—like meme culture, slang, internet trends—may be lost on him. Multi-factor authentication, encryption, and cybersecurity concerns would be unfamiliar.

They may not understand how to navigate digital privacy, potentially making him vulnerable to scams or data exploitation. He might expect direct phone calls rather than texting or social media messaging.

Emojis, GIFs, and shorthand might be confusing or seem meaningless to them. Color might begin to feel frustrated and alienated, feeling like a “time traveler” thrown into a world he doesn’t understand, struggling to keep up.

They may resist using modern technology due to intimidation or resentment. He could avoid it as much as possible, or even grow to develop Technophobia.

The sheer speed and saturation of digital life (ads, notifications, video content, instant access to information) might be too much at once—and Color could struggle with overwhelm and sensory overload, the stress leading to episodes of dissociation.

He might try to make a call but not understand why payphones no longer exist or how smartphones work. He might struggle to use a self-checkout machine because he expected cashiers.

He might not recognize voice-activated AI assistants like Siri or Alexa, thinking a person is speaking to them. He might find modern websites overly cluttered and overwhelming compared to the simpler internet he knew.

He might get lost in a city because he expected to read paper maps rather than use GPS apps. He might feel isolated in conversations when people reference digital culture, memes, or slang he doesnt understand.

They might have an emotional reaction to something like facial recognition or biometric security, feeling watched or controlled.

They’d need gradual reintroduction to prevent overwhelm. Someone patient would need to walk him through even basic things like using a phone or searching online.

He might prefer physical books, notes, and manual methods rather than digital alternatives at first. If he focuses too much on how far behind they are, it could fuel self-loathing or despair.

This could be a deeply frustrating and alienating experience, reinforcing the sense that the world moved on without him.

On top of all this, too, is the fact that 1. he is a Sans alternate timeline, therefore he likely ‘grew up’ Underground and only had access to whatever technology fell from the Surface intact or whatever was able to be scavenged and repurposed, and 2. he has the souls of human children inside him.

He can potentially be effected by their knowledge of things on the Surface and human culture based on their what they’re able to tell him, show him, what he dreams about (potentially souls’ memories), or even if something triggers one of the souls and he sees whatever they’re remembering.

Taking further into account that not only have the souls been removed from the rest of the world for about two decades like Color has, but they were removed from the Surface and human world for even longer via being locked away in jars.

On top of that, it all depends on what year the souls were born and what year they Fell/were killed, and how far apart the six of them were. One soul might know something about technology none of the others do, because the other souls either weren’t born yet or died before getting to know.

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filehulk · 7 months ago

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NoMachine

NoMachine is a remote connection application for PCs that allows you to access file systems and control target systems with additional features like video and audio streaming. If you’re in search of a reliable software solution for remotely connecting to any computer and accessing your files quickly, NoMachine is the perfect tool for a seamless remote desktop experience. With its intuitive…

#audio streaming #Automation #cross-platform #desktop sharing #file transfer #IT Tools #multi-platform #multi-session #NoMachine #Remote Access #remote collaboration #remote desktop #remote desktop software #remote printing #remote work #secure connections #secure remote access #video streaming

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salty-tang · 8 days ago

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For the Record 4: Lockdown (multi- chapter series)

Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Congresswoman!Reader (mostly canon compliant)

Chapter Summary: The Capitol is thrust into lockdown just as Bucky retrieves the classified file exposing Valentina’s shell NGO. As alarms blare and security systems jam, both he and you confront the terrifying possibility of losing each other. Oh, and also dumplings.

⁕⁕⁕

a canon compliant congressman bucky x congresswoman reader fic set somewhere between tfatws and thunderbolts, chronicling congressman barnes' first term as a representative.

Warnings/ tags: Slow Burn, Political Drama, Light Angst with a happy ending, Mutual Pining, Bucky Doesn't Think He Deserves Good Things, Hurt/Comfort But Make It Legislative, Secret Missions with Legislative Consequences, The Interns Have Theories, Canon-Typical Violence, Congressman Bucky Barnes, Congresswoman Reader, author is not american and barely gets american politics, no use of y/n, this is the plot heavy long form fic

Word count: 6.5k

ps: AO3 is my main platform for this work, tumblr is just getting the reupload

For the Record masterpost || AO3 || congressman bucky masterpost

The secure archives are six levels down – a level below the official basement and past the old microfiche stacks that no one’s catalogued since the Nixon administration. The walk is long enough to steady Bucky’s breathing, but not enough to loosen the knot just under his sternum.

He tries not to think about the leak and the photo; the way your sounded as you turned to leave – low and composed, weaponised in its restraint.

“Goodnight, Congressman.” You had said, and it felt like rung was pulled from underneath him.

It echoes in the quiet of the corridor like footfall just behind him. Two harmless words, civil and lethal in its simplicity, laced with everything that you didn’t say. He should've let them roll off his back and treated it like the quiet dismissal that it was. But no – his brain, traitorous as ever, has caught itself on the shape of your voice and the way it softened, just slightly, for him.

He can’t afford to be the kind of man who flinches at a well-aimed goodnight. And he certainly can’t let himself be swayed by the way your mouth barely moved around the words. A pretty face shouldn’t be able to send a man six levels underground just to breathe.

And yet, here he is, walking to where he keeps the things that matter. Not officially – and certainly not with permission. Some of these rooms aren’t even on the updated blueprints. He may or may not have rerouted access protocols months ago, quietly folding this forgotten corner into his own network. No one asked and no one stopped him, so now it’s his.

The file he’s looking for is stored where he left it last, tucked behind a dead security panel and wrapped in the kind of dull brown sleeve no one looks at twice. It's exactly what he said he'd get – just not from where you assumed.

The report for Appropriations ended up down here for a reason. The data that informs it wasn’t properly obtained, having been scraped from sources too compromised to be defensible, but too damning to ignore. At its core, it charts a pattern of corruption, buried beneath the language of obscure grant disbursements. The bulk of the data is stored on a supplementary USB that is faintly scorched, like it brushed too close to something it shouldn’t have. It evidences a trail of inconsistencies – funds that don’t match their authorisations, rerouted allocations smuggled between innocuous footnotes, and the name of a humanitarian group that doesn’t appear on any public record at all.

This isn’t something anyone else has seen, and now Bucky’s made up his mind that he’s going to show it to you.

As he flips the file over in his hand, he finds himself hesitating – not because he doubts the intel, but because he understands what it means to share it. Once you see this, you’re in. No plausible deniability, no clean exit. If it all goes to hell, if you get caught in the kind of fallout that he’s been surviving all his life, it'll be because he let you close.

Bucky exhales through his nose and almost puts the file back. He thinks about how much you already carry – your constituent work, your bill that you’re still trying to pass – and now, his shadow, creeping in. If he adds this – this ugly, uncompromising truth – it might bring your carefully spinning plates crashing down.

Logically, there are a thousand reasons to keep you out of it. And still, he tells himself that sharing this risk is strategic because he can’t afford to lose the cover that you’re providing him, and that it’s also safer where he’s close enough to keep an eye on you.

But really, the truth settles lower, just beneath where reason ends; he just can’t quite bear the thought of you walking away.

And not just because of this.

He slides the file into his jacket before his hesitation has time to land.

Bucky’s one turn away from the exit when he notices it. A hum – or the lack of one. Subtle, but very wrong. One of the old server rooms he just passed isn’t making its usual noises. No soft whir of legacy cooling systems and no idle clicking of dormant data storage.

He pauses outside the threshold, glances around, and then steps inside.

At first glance, everything looks normal – the lights blink in their usual rhythm, and nothing seems to have been moved or disturbed. Maybe he was mistaken. He almost turns away, just almost, and that's when he sees it – a faint shadow cast wrong against the racks.

When he really looks, he finds a thumb-sized device jammed into the base of the central server housing. Small and easy to miss. Invisible, unless one knows exactly what to look for. And Bucky does.

He crouches in front of it, breath tightening in his chest.

It’s a surveillance bug – CIA-adjacent, if he had to guess. Compact and deliberately unspectacular, it’s the kind of thing designed to outlast curiosity. It's precisely the kind of bug someone plants not just to listen in to one or two conversations or grab a couple of files, but when they’re certain they want to have it all. It’s long range, low signal, with an untraceable signature and perfected to work in areas with otherwise patchy network access. It will blend in and stay feeding until it’s full and the owner comes and retrieves it.

More alarmingly, it’s new. Not weeks old. Hours, if still that. The dust hasn’t even had a chance to settle on the panel seam, and with the way the dirt on the server base has been disturbed, it feels like someone was just here.

Bucky skims the hardware tags on the server towers: third floor backup servers. His lips flatten into a line.

He’s been careful and disciplined. Every packet he sends and receives has been routed through encrypted proxies. There are no pings from unsecured devices and certainly no accidental logins, autofill histories, or cloud backups. Nothing that might echo back to him.

For a man like him, this kind of digital hygiene is only learnt when sloppiness got people killed.

But then, he considers you. A civilian. Brilliant, but not paranoid. You leave draft memos in your shared folders and annotate briefing documents in real time. You log in after hours from your personal laptop and think that the badge swipe system makes you safe.

If this thing was left to run, it wouldn’t have just tracked activity, it would have learned you. Patterns, passwords, heat maps. You wouldn’t even know you were being watched.

Bucky's pulse spike again – because this isn’t just a surveillance breach. It’s intrusion, intentional and violently personal. This isn’t the work of an opportunist, it’s a precise feeler sent through Capitol infrastructure looking for access, and picking out the weak links that would give them that.

He tastes something sharp and metallic at the tip of his tongue – rage, fear, or something that draws from the darkest corners of both – as the unwelcome conclusion settles. You might now be on someone’s hit list, and that is the absolutely last thing he wants.

His breath catches as the grim realisation sets in. You’re no longer safe.

And then – like the world flinches with him – the fluorescent overhead lights flicker, buzz, and go dark. Red and blue emergency strobe take their place and wash over the room in a broken rhythm.

His phone buzzes once in his pocket, a secure channel text.

[MIKE]: Where are you? Full lockdown in two.

Bucky ignores the warning and is about to hit send on his reply – Is she okay? – when the building shudders with the weight of its own alarm system. A voice crackles over the overhead speakers, loud enough to rattle through concrete and bone:

“Security protocol activated. All personnel to shelter in place. Building is in lockdown. This is not a drill.”

Static fractures the line and his phone screen glitches once before going dead.

Signal jammed.

His breath freezes. This isn’t a coincidence. Not a drill, not even a diversion. He recognises it for what it may be – cover. Someone planted that bug knowing it might trigger a lockdown, or worse, hoping it would. Because a lockdown pins everyone down exactly where they are.

And you, you don’t run in an emergency. You follow procedure and stay put in your office.

Predictable, contained, easy to find.

Before the thought can even finish forming, his hand shoots out. Metal fingers close around the bug with furious precision. The chill of vibranium bruising plastic casing feels almost ceremonial – like he’s marking the moment before consequence. Like it matters that this is the last thing the bug will ever register.

It resists for half a second before it folds onto itself with a sound not unlike bone cracking under pressure, coupled with the splintering whine of circuits giving way. Tiny sparks fizzle between his fingers as the plastic chars. His palm smells like scorched wires and ozone.

It's useless now. Burned and ground down to its circuit board guts.

But it doesn’t feel like enough, because what’s next is worse – they’re coming for you.

And if this isn’t just spectacularly bad timing or a coincidence, and if it’s actually their opening salvo – then he’s not just running out of time – he’s running out of space between you and a bullet that hasn’t been fired yet.

Bucky closes his eyes. Inhales. Exhales.

He’s six floors below you, and too many secrets too late.

He bolts.

***

You don’t know where Bucky is. And you hate that that’s what you’re fixated on as sirens wail around you. Derek and Mike are already moving – their laptops are open and incident logs are running as they bark check in codes down secure communication lines.

This is not how you thought this night would end.

Bucky should’ve been back by now. Why isn’t he back? The thought lodges sharp and unwelcome at the forefront of your mind, but you push it down in favour of the calculations that are running at full speed at the back– routes, protocols, clearance levels. How far could he have gone in the few minutes he was gone? Is he stuck behind some check point? Does he have his badge and is he unable to use it? Or for once is he going to listen to protocol and shelter in place until the lockdown is over?

You are spiralling. You cannot spiral.

Quietly, you take your seat.

Not because it feels safe, but because it’s what leadership looks like in the middle of a breach. This House respects composure, and you have to be the still point in the chaos, a fixed axis upon which everyone else can spin. So you become what is required of you. You give orders. You speak with precision. You don’t think about worst case scenarios.

Because if this lockdown isn’t a false alarm, and if it’s a cover for something else, something deliberate – you’re well on your way to making peace with it. If they’re coming for you under the guise of containment, you’ll be ready. You’ll meet it with your name spelled correctly on the press notice and your posture correct, because if someone’s going to take a shot, they’ll damn well do it with your eyes on theirs.

You do not check your phone. You do not ask where he is. But do you allow yourself to think of Bucky’s interns and it hits you belatedly – weren’t they in the office with him earlier?

You’re about to be concerned when Mike, without looking up from his phone, answers. “I sent them home the minute the photo hit Jenna’s phone. We didn’t need them around for further chaos. And it was late, as good a time as any.”

You nod once and hold that detail like a handhold in a storm. Two safe. Good.

Derek snorts from across the table. “Wish I’d thought of that. Then I wouldn’t have to watch Devon and Mills start an emergency podcast in the corner.”

You don’t smile, not really, but the line grounds you.

Then you continue to do what you’ve always done – made sure the work carries on.

Your desktop is still live, for now. You cycle through incoming alerts, reroute notifications, flag duplicates while you wait for new intel. You open a template and start drafting emergency statements that say absolutely nothing, but sound like they might in the right context.

One version if the threat is internal, one if it’s environmental, one if it’s a false alarm. And then, one last one. The one you’ll deny exists until the time comes, because it’s written along the lines of If I die tonight, let it be of use. Let it be timed enough, precise enough, to cover for whatever it is Barnes will do.

You don’t send them out. You just line them up, a little row of votives for all the deathless gods.

Mike murmurs something about contingency plans. You nod again, sharper this time, though your eyes flick to the doorway.

Still empty.

You glance down and realize your hand is curled around your phone, white-knuckled. You loosen your grip before anyone sees. You hold yourself still, like the calmness will keep your fear at bay. But in that small, irrational corner of your mind where paranoia is blooming hard and fast like poison ivy, you think – this is it. This is how it ends. No warnings, no glory, no chance to make wrongs right. Just red lights and static.

(in ten months, you'll laugh at your past self for even thinking that this was the end of it)

If something happens to him – if something happens to you – you’re sure to regret it, all of it. The missed chances. The way you refused to soften and the look in his eyes when he left and the way you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to stay.

If I make it out of this alive, you say, not quite a prayer but something close to it, I have to do better. I will do better.

You cut yourself off. That way lies madness. If someone’s coming for you, they’ll have to go through three locked doors, two seasoned staffers, and the sharp edge of your composure. Let them try, you think instead.

And then you let yourself think about Bucky again, the ghost of a smirk curling on your lips, because if someone’s coming for him, well, they'd probably have to bring a tank.

***

Bucky’s boots hit the first stair hard enough to echo. The emergency lights stutter above him, painting the stairwell in stop-motion red and blue.

The building is sealed. Doors are locked and phones are dead.

His shoulder clips the wall on the third landing, but he doesn’t slow. Every second feels like a page he should’ve read faster, a clue he should’ve caught earlier.

You're in your office with Derek and Mike. Or at least – you’re supposed to be. Before the speakers blared. Before the line dropped.

Before he could ask.

He takes the next flight three steps at a time, breath steady but clipped. The file presses against his ribs through his jacket, sharp-edged and wholly irrelevant now.

Six floors. Each one more unbearable than the last.

He curses himself for trying to hold back that fire with his bare hands, knowing that it always, always, finds someone else to burn. And now it’s your turn on the altar – your bill, your calendar, you name on some hidden ledger none of them were meant to see.

He rounds another corner. His knee protests. He doesn’t care.

He veers towards the exit that would spit him out on the ground level, where it's a faster charge up to your office.

But the badge reader blinks red and the heavy metal door holds firmly shut.

Again.

Still red.

The lockdown protocol rerouted access. Of course it did. His clearance won’t punch through unless someone overrides it, and there’s no one here to do that.

He grips the frame beside the door, breath steady through clenched teeth. Vibranium creaks against metal. For a moment, his vision narrows. He could break it and force his way through. But the thought of you – watching, worrying, expecting him to be better – pulls him back.

He’s not out of options, not yet.

He exhales sharply, and there is no time to lose. He turns back to the stairwell and keeps going.

Another three flights up, he runs into a checkpoint. At least this time, it’s manned – not another faceless panel or sealed door. Someone he can reason with, or, if it really came down to it, someone he could shove aside.

But he doesn’t, not yet.

They are Capitol police, vest-stitched, visored, and armed. Bucky doesn’t recognise them and it’s clear they don’t recognise him either. One of them steps forward, body squared, his hand drifting toward his belt.

“Sir, you can’t be here. This floor’s sealed.”

Bucky doesn’t stop walking. “I’m getting to my office.”

“That’s not – Sir, stop.”

He does. Abruptly and deliberately.

“I have clearance,” he says, voice low and clipped, barely restrained.

The officer eyes him, unsure. “Then show it.”

Bucky doesn’t move. He glares, the metal arm catching the light and gleaming with all the weight of who he used to be. And what he could still become.

“Sir, I need you to step back.”

“I’m not stepping anywhere but forward.”

There’s a pause. The officer’s fingers inch closer towards his sidearm.

Bucky tilts his head, the red and blue light casting a ghostly wash on his visage. Slow and coldly, he speaks. “You really want to try that?”

The officer swallows. His partner shifts his stance.

“You’ll need an escort –”

“No, I won’t.”

Another step forward. The expression on his face is thunderous.

The officer stiffens. “If you push this, I can’t guarantee –”

“You want to be the one who explains why you stopped me from getting to her?” His voice isn’t loud, but it slices like a knife to the throat. “Be my guest.”

Something in how his shoulders drop – not relaxed, coiled – must make the threat feel real, because the officer falters and his hand slowly drops from his belt.

“This hallway only,” he says tightly. “Beyond that, you're on your own.”

“Fine.”

And then Bucky’s past him.

His footsteps roll through the silence like distant artillery.

Because if something happens and he doesn’t make it in time –

***

You hear it, heavy boots in the hallway. Not rushed, not cautious, just relentless.

You see clearly in your mind’s eye how it will unfold – the door breaching, a loud bang, the business end of a smoking gun.

And then –

The footsteps stop.

The handle jolts and the door resists, just for a second. The chair wedged beneath the handle rattles and scrapes hard against the floor.

Derek and Mike don’t speak as they exchange a single grim look and close ranks. Derek plants himself right by the door with a fire extinguisher. Mike squares his stance right in front of you, quiet and unshakeable.

For a never-wrecking moment, the chair holds, and you let yourself believe that you will be fine. That is, until the legs skid and the wooden frame gives with a splintered crack as the lock grinds open under brute force.

You tell yourself not to scream, but there is a noticeable tremble to your bottom lip.

(Devon and Mills, watching through the frosted glass divider, actually scream)

And then –

Stillness.

The hallway light spills in, alternating in their red and blue. Dust floats in the air like breath suspended. You actually stop breathing.

Then –

Blue eyes, icy cold in their focus. The ones that find you first, before anything else does.

Not an assassin. Not a killer.

Just Bucky, clutching that goddamn file in his hand like it’s the thing that matters most – not the lockdown orders he broke to get here, not the fact that you were counting heartbeats in his absence.

That idiot. That beautiful, reckless idiot.

He’s all you can see. Time falters and stretches long enough for you to feel it in your lungs, in your pulse – this moment that belongs only to you and him.

Bucky exhales, shaky and uneven, like he’s only just realized he hasn’t breathed since the moment the lockdown started.You’re not dead. No broken glass, no gunshots, no bodies on the floor. Just you - face drained of all color, lips trembling, hands shaking, seated behind your table surrounded by papers like it’s just another Thursday. He can’t look away, because he’s afraid that looking away might undo the fact that you’re still breathing. That he made it, and that this time, he wasn’t too late.

And you, the breath you did not know you’ve been holding releases, sharp and shallow. He’s real. You’re not dead. He’s not dead. He’s standing in your doorway like he always meant to come through it. He came back. That’s enough. Relief slams into your fear so fast you nearly stagger, and you continue to blink, disbelieving, like your body hasn’t quite caught up to the fact that there isn’t a bullet lodged in your skull.

“What the actual fuck!” Derek yells, the tremor evident in his voice as he lowers his fire extinguisher. “I could’ve killed you!”

“Jesus Christ, Barnes.” Mike wheezes, almost collapsing onto the table behind him.

“How did you even get here? In a lockdown?” You ask.

His jaw flexes and his voice is low when he ignores the others to reply just to you. “Didn’t stop me.”

The way he says it isn’t boastful. Just honest, like there was never a version of the day where he didn’t find a way through.

Somewhere behind you, Derek and Mike’s voices rise in tandem – urgent, disbelieving, sharpened by adrenaline – but it all melts into static, muffled like a world underwater.

Because Bucky’s already stepping forward, and without meaning to, without even thinking, you’re already out of your seat and moving towards him like it’s instinct hardwired into your bones.

It’s not a run. It’s not even dramatic. It’s just that quiet, inevitable gravity pulling the two of you together.

He comes to a stop right in front of you. It’s close. Too close.

At this distance, you can hear the unevenness of his breathing, as if something bigger than adrenaline is keeping him upright.

"You’re safe," he says, barely louder than a whisper, raw and frayed. It’s not just relief or confirmation, the way he says it. The words that come out of his mouth sound like confession.

You blink at him, stunned.

"Yeah," you manage. "You too."

You don’t say anything else. You don’t need to. You have never been gladder to see a man standing before you, wrecked but ultimately unharmed.

He looks at you, really looks at you, like the ground finally stopped moving.

Like you’re the only reason he came back up.

And you – you tilt your head, just enough to expose the line of your jaw and the curve of your neck. Your breath hitches and his eyes catch the sound.

You inhale, slow and deep. Your heart is about to burst out of your chest. His gaze drops down, down to where your mouth softens with the shape of his name. His lips part too, with the beginnings of yours.

It’s not practiced, not planned. The pull is slow and certain, ancient and primal. It’s the kind of attraction that defies policy, optics, and common sense. It’s the kind of thing that no one walks away from cleanly.

You lean in, fractions at a time. So does he.

He’s so much closer that all his finest details are laid bare for your perusal – the faint splits in his bottom lip, the healing nick on his cheek, the flecks of silver in the strands above his temple. His gaze flicks to your mouth – once, then again.

Your noses nearly brush. His hand twitches like it wants to anchor itself – on your arm, your waist, anywhere you’d let him touch – like he doesn’t know where to put everything he’s been holding back.

You forget about the interns. About the lockdown. About the file still clenched in his hand.

And then a chair scrapes behind you.

Loud, unforgivable.

The moment shatters like glass on asphalt.

You both snap back.

It says something, doesn’t it? That what hits you first isn’t regret, but absence in the shape of something that almost happened.

And from the look on Bucky’s face – wide-eyed, unspeaking – it’s crystal clear that he’s feeling the exact same way.

He holds out the file and you take it without looking.

You lift an eyebrow, just enough to hide the shake in your breath. "You didn’t punch any doors on your way here, did you?"

A flicker of something crosses his face – guilt, or amusement, or the memory of just how close he came.

"No," he says. "Didn’t hit anyone, either."

"You’re evolving," you mutter. It slips out wry, but it’s an honest thought. He meets the comment with nothing more than a slight tilt of his head – but that’s how you know it’s landed right.

The silence folds in, weighted and careful.

You speak first, before the stillness pulls you under. "We need to go through this," you say, lifting the folder like a shield.

"Yeah," he says. But still, he doesn’t step away.

And you don’t want him to.

For a breath, neither of you move.

Then, slowly, the world begins to reassert itself. The buzz of white fluorescent, the distant thrum of security chatter.

You both straighten at the same time. It’s silent – a ringing silence where there were once strobe lights and sirens.

Derek exhales. “As I was trying to say before someone bashed his way through the door,” he says, extremely dryly, “we’ve been given the all clear.”

Bucky cuts in, serious. “And the excuse?”

Mike doesn't look up from his phone. “Officially? A staffer on Whitmore’s team forgot to renew their clearance credentials. He swiped into the building fine, but when he tried to leave, the system flagged it as unauthorized movement. That triggered the protocol.”

Bucky’s expression doesn’t move. “Convenient.”

The pause says everything he doesn’t.

Then he shuffles, slow and deliberate, and jerks his chin toward the hallway. “We’ll be safer in my office,” he directs at you.

You glance toward Derek, the silent question threaded in your eyes – Do you need me?

Derek doesn’t even look up. “Unless you’re here to write the next crisis memo, go regroup elsewhere.”

You turn to leave, but catch the faintest look from Mike – something knowing, unreadable, and just short of a smirk. He says nothing because he doesn’t need to.

You follow Bucky down the hall and into his office for the first time.

The door always seemed shut, or just barely open – quite like the man himself. You’d often pass it and glimpsed the nameplate and noted the soft hum of voices behind it. But never have you been invited to step inside, until now.

It’s noticeably smaller than yours and much sparser. He’s got no framed certificates, no campaign photos. Just one battered bookshelf with a surprising amount of books, and what looks like a pet feeding bowl tucked discreetly in the corner. There’s also a whiteboard that’s half policy notes and half illegible scribbled shorthand. The furnishing is completed by two big, worn leather armchairs flanking a small coffee table in the middle of the room. No couch, no space for lingering or collapsing. Just enough room to sit, think, and leave.

It’s sparse, and not in a minimal way. It feels like it's inhabited by someone who’s not yet convinced he’s allowed to take up space or make it his own.

Bucky’s hand lingers for a second on the knob, like he’s weighing whether to say something. Then, he just holds the door open, not looking at you, but not looking away either.

Your shoulder brushes his arm as you pass. Neither of you react. The hallway smells like recycled air and aftershave and ozone, but the office is blissfully warmer and smells distinctly of him.

The lock clicks softly behind you as he closes the door. Not final, but deliberate.

You sit down on one of the leather armchairs across from him and flip open the folder.

Neither of you say anything at first. The silence settles differently here – light, soft, full.

You quickly glance at the index and thumb through the pages – technical briefings, community stats, redacted testimony excerpts. Then – papers from Appropirations, drenched in neon yellow highlighter.

Immediately, the funding inconsistencies from the grant disbursement ledger jump out at you. The numbers are off in a way that does not suggest rounding errors, but systemic fraud. However, you don’t immediately place the recipient, Atlas Relief.

You frown slightly and circle the name with your pen. You've seen it before – you're sure of that. And the more you think about it, the more it surfaces: a humanitarian NGO, something to do with meta-human displacement in Southeast Asia. The memory doesn’t land cleanly, but it doesn’t let go either.

You nibble at the end of your pen, thoughtful. There’s still a gap, something he’s not telling you – a pressure point he’s keeping quiet. But the fact that he brought you this at all… that says something.

The scale of it is bigger than you – either of you – and yet, in this strange, soft silence, you find yourself believing that he wouldn’t have handed this over if he didn’t mean for you to decipher him. The belief isn't entirely rational, but you know it’s real.

When you glance up, Bucky’s sitting deceptively still and casually, but he’s watching you very carefully, with an expression that says that he’s worried you might bolt at a moment’s notice.

You lean back into the plush leather seat, thumb pressing into the margin of the folder. The silence stretches again – not uncomfortable, now weighted.

"We're going to try to push AFTERMATH through again," you say finally, eyes still on the page. "Made some changes to the rider clauses. Enough to sway a few votes, maybe. If the schedule holds, it’ll hit the floor in two weeks."

Bucky blinks at the shift in topic. He thought he’d have to defend this. He thought you’d tear through every clause the way you’ve done to witnesses in committee, relentless and precise, just to see what cracks. But you don’t. You just flip the page over, like it’s enough, like he’s earned that trust. And that’s what gives him whiplash – your forgiveness, quiet and uncomplicated.

But he’s nodding along.

There's a flicker of something across his face – not doubt, not really. Just the shadow of a question – surely nothing will get in the way this time. Not after everything. Not again.

But he doesn’t say it. He just waits.

You glance at the circled name, then up at him. "You’ll be there for the vote, right?"

His answer comes without hesitation. "I will."

It shouldn’t matter that you asked out loud. But it does. It’s the only way you know how to show that you’re sorry – that you don’t want to leave things unsaid.

He leans back slightly, but his eyes stay fixed on yours. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

You don’t tell him that you’ll hold him to it. You just nod and go back to reading.

But your heart is still catching up.

You don’t look up. But you smile. And that, somehow, is enough.

***

Later, much later, after the file’s been locked away and the worst of the crisis is deemed over, the both of you find yourselves outside Rayburn.

Not because you planned to be. Just because you couldn’t quite stay in the airless quiet of the Hill.

The city hums around you – muted, half-asleep. Somewhere far off, sirens echo. But here, beneath the dull orange halo of a streetlamp, it’s just you and him breathing in the cold March air.

“You hungry?” Bucky asks, like it’s the first time he’s allowed himself a question that small.

“Always.” You nod, too tired to joke, too wired to go home just yet.

The both of you walk the three blocks to a backlit street in Chinatown in companionable silence. Your destination is a 24/7 dumpling hut with buzzing half-broken neon lights and steam fogging up the glass windows where faded menus are not taped up. It’s the kind of place where no one really cares who you are, as long as you pay in cash and clear your tray when you’re done.

After some back and forth about what kind of and how many dumplings to get (‘these better not be the soup ones that explode when you bite into them’, ‘you survived Hydra, you’ll survive a xiao long bao’), you end up ordering two steamers of pork and chive, one of pan fried shrimp, and something that the auntie taking the order insists that you should get and that you’re not brave enough to clarify what exactly it is. He watches you with a faint smile, like he’s seeing a version of you Congress doesn’t get.

When the food comes – piled high and steaming and smelling like real life – you gesture toward the spread between you like a queen showing off her kingdom. “This is what survival looks like.”

He cracks his chopsticks cleanly in two. “I thought survival looked like punching a federal checkpoint.”

“Which you didn’t do.”

“Barely,” he says. “I made it through without casualties. Doors included.”

You raise a brow. “That’s what we’re calling restraint now?”

He huffs something like a laugh. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

“Please don’t say there was another guy.”

He doesn’t answer. Just nudges the dipping vinegar closer to you, all innocent.

You sigh and take a dumpling. “Next time you decide to disappear during a lockdown, maybe say something first?”

“Next time,” he says, voice low, “you barricade the door properly, and maybe don’t use a chair.”

You glance at him. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“It worked too well,” he says. “Nearly took it as a sign.”

Something flickers between you. Not affection. Not quite.

You eat in silence for a while, the kind that is comfortably full. Between bites, you watch the steam rise off the tray and feel the heat work its way back into your bones.

Bucky chews, slow and deliberate, like he’s still winding down from whatever adrenaline cocktail got him through the night. He swallows, then says it lightly – so lightly it nearly slips past you, “every time something breaks around here, I still can’t tell which part of me’s supposed to fix it.”

You glance at him and clock the way his shoulders are slouched forward, how his fingers are denting his paper cup of tea.

“You’re doing fine,” you say quietly. “It’s not like they give you a manual for this.”

He doesn’t answer, not really. Just shifts slightly, like the weight of a moment brushing too close.

Silence unfurls between the both of you again. You breathe it in too late, as it occurs to you that you might have been too late to answer the question he didn’t ask. The one that’s unspoken and hiding beneath all the rest.

You look away and let the missed opportunity skim past you like heat rising off asphalt. And because neither of you know what to do with tenderness that comes unlabelled, you offer it back the only way you know how.

“After fearing for both your career and your life,” you say lightly, “dumplings are a pretty solid choice.”

A beat passes. The spell breaks. The steam between you curls upward like smoke from a fire that never quite caught. Bucky huffs out a dry laugh, low and rough-edged. “You’re not wrong.”

You glance at him sidelong. “That’s your way of admitting I’m right?”

He picks up a dumpling with a shrug. “It’s the middle of the night, I haven’t eaten in twelve hours, my career’s halfway up in smoke because of an over-enthusiastic press team in a hallway, and that’s all before I thought they were coming for you.” He pauses, gaze flicking up to meet yours. “I’ll concede anything.”

You put your chopsticks down and sip your tea like you’re not quietly cataloguing every fracture in his voice. “Honestly, thank God for the lockdown.”

He blinks. “That is one hell of a thing to be grateful for.”

Your chin juts out, just a bit. “Think about it – capitol breach, false alarm, protestors next block over, dozens of representatives displaced. No one’s going to be talking about some hallway video. Mike and Derek will see to it personally.”

He stabs the next dumpling like it personally offended him. “You think a possible attempt on your life is good press?”

“No,” you say calmly as you expertly peel off a dumpling from the steamer paper without breaking the skin. “But I think optics are cruel and attention spans are short. And if someone’s going to weaponize a camera angle against us, I’d rather it get buried under bureaucracy than blow up in our face.”

His jaw flexes. “It shouldn’t take a security breach to buy us silence.”

“It’s Capitol Hill. Everything costs something.” You shrug like it’s a foundational fact of life.

He reaches for another dumpling. “Then these better count as a deductible.”

You smirk. “Keep the receipt. I’ll file it under ‘emotional damages.’”

He glances over, a faint crease at the corner of his eyes. “That a line item in your office budget?”

“No,” you say, stealing the last pan-fried one from right under his chopsticks. “It’s a personal fund. Strictly off the books.”

He protests but doesn’t stop you. Just watches, amused, as you pop it into your mouth.

“Careful,” he says. “If you keep stealing my food, people are going to think we’re close.”

You meet his gaze, heat blooming somewhere under your collar. “We’re already a headline. What more can a dumpling do?”

His voice lowers, dry but deliberate. “You tell me.”

And outside, the streetlamp flickers once. Somewhere, far off, a delivery truck shifts into gear. The sky is starting to grey – that gentle ghostly hour where the world holds its breath. And above it all, the light keeps rising, slow and sure.

Like the night never stood a chance.

<< 3. The Summit|| AO3 ||

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aibidil · 10 months ago

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In honor of Debate Day (I'm cringing already, and I have to watch with my kid for a school assignment): I keep seeing political posts on here that demonstrate a misunderstanding of the American electoral system, and I want to explain a few points. Because I have a PhD in Political Science and apparently I can't help myself.

E.g. "You people keep saying to vote for the (blameworthy) democrat and then force them to the left, but then you never force them to the left!" <- in a way, this statement is true enough, but not for the reasons that it seems to imply.

The US Constitution doesn't establish a two-party system. However, it does establish the Electoral College, which is a major way in which the US electoral system diverges from a popular vote. The manner in which each state chooses and constrains its electors (the people who make up the Electoral College) is left to the states, but 48 of the 50 states use a voting system called "First Past the Post," or first-preference plurality. FPTP is a system in which voters choose one candidate and the candidate with the largest number of votes (a plurality) "takes it all," even if they do not secure a majority of the votes. So if there are three candidates—say, Gore, Bush, and Nader—and Bush gets the plurality of electors, Bush wins. Even if more voters voted for Gore than Bush. Even if Nader voters indicated in exit polls that their second choice was much more likely to be Gore than Bush. US Congressional seats, likewise, are elected in single-member districts with FPTP winner-takes-all. So in a FPTP system, the makeup of the electoral body is not proportional to the votes cast by voters, and in the Electoral College, it may lead to results in which a candidate with a plurality of overall votes doesn't win the election.

Single-member FPTP systems therefore discourage voting for smaller parties and encourage, as the rational outcome of the electoral system, strategic voting for one of two big parties. This is in direct contrast to electoral systems that run on some variation of proportional representation (ranked preference voting, multi-member districts, etc), where the percentages of votes for each party are reflected in the final makeup of the elected body.

So even though there's nothing in the US Constitution saying we have to have a two-party system, in Political Sciencey terms: Duverger's Law states that all FPTP systems will become two-party systems. This is true because it is the logical outcome of rational actors operating in the system.

Okay, but who cares if we have a two-party system? We can still push democrats to the left, right?

Well, kind of? But ultimately, not really. Because think about it: if you have two parties competing for votes among the entire populace, they can only position themselves against the other party. You've got one candidate on the right and one candidate on the left. Committed leftists and committed right-wingers are going to vote for their party (or not vote at all). There's no incentive for a party to make any concessions to those voters. Whose votes are they trying to get? The people in the middle. Those are the only people they should care about, if they want to win. So the voters in the middle can exert influence over the platforms, and that has the effect of pulling both sides toward the very middle.

(One thing that has happened in recent years is that the Republicans have been successful at moving the entire distribution of votes farther to the right. This hasn't changed the fact that the two-party system will always pull both parties toward the center of the vote distribution, but it's definitely fucked us over. If the democrats had any way to enact this sort of shift, I would be all over it, but I don't see how they could. The entire system is fucked even beyond all I've already said by gerrymandering and the fact that leftists are geographically isolated in cities, both of which systematically benefit the right, so it doesn't seem likely that the democrats could be successful at a shift like that without changing some of the laws about gerrymandering, if not also the Electoral College.)

On the other hand, in systems that have more than two parties, you end up with bimodal distributions of votes. Why is that? Because say you have three parties on the left, and voters know that they aren't throwing their vote away if they vote for a smaller party. What will happen? The three parties on the left will be vying for the votes of the leftists. And the same thing will happen on the right. In this way, the voters will pull the party platforms farther from the middle, out to each side. The leftmost and rightmost "fringe" parties will each get a small proportion of the votes, and the more mainstream parties will get more, but those fringes have much more power than they ever could in a two-party FPTP system.

So when people say, "You say, vote for the democrat, then force them to the left, and then you don't force them to the left"—correct. There is no clear way to force a democratic candidate to the left in our two-party FPTP system. How would one even do that? The only thing leftists can threaten is to not vote, when not voting will certainly benefit the candidate on the right. So, sure, you can do that—if you want your behavior to benefit the right as a way to threaten the left. Some people will make that choice, but not many, because it will help the right!

To be clear: this is fucked! I think this is fucked! But we get nowhere by sticking our heads in the sand about how the electoral system actually works.

I'm not pretending that there's only one right way to act. Our system is fucked and has been for a long time. What I do think is key is understanding how the system actually works and making your decisions from there.

For me, I've often said, "Vote for the democrat for harm reduction, because that will absolutely reduce harm compared to the republican candidate. Then, fight the system." But I realize this maybe wasn't specific enough. What I mean when I say that is: I will vote for Kamala with zero qualms. Because I believe that Trump would be worse for literally every demographic in the world that I care about. To me, that's the only thing the vote is about. Do I agree with Kamala on Israel-Palestine? No. Do I think Trump would be worse for Palestinians and for American Jews (probably for Israeli citizens too)? Absolutely. Do I shudder to think what happened last time Trump had control over creating the Supreme Court? YES.

But when I say, "Then, fight the system," I mean specifically: the number one thing that leftists should be doing if we want to make any headway, if we want to shift that distribution of votes back from the rightward journey its taken in recent years, is to fight to overturn the electoral college and gerrymandering. Every tiny step we take in making our electoral system closer to the popular vote favors both principles of democracy and the left. If we can amend the constitution (this is enormously difficult) to get rid of the Electoral College, then we can turn to changing the electoral system to something other than FPTP.

I do not mean "vote for Kamala and then spend 4 years yelling at democrats for not being leftist enough." I agree: that is a terrible strategy, and will do nothing.

We can't keep ignoring, in between elections, that the voting system itself is where our focus should be! We can't keep pointing fingers at each other, even though we're all acting within the constraints of a fucked system, every time an election comes along! Maybe I'm getting old but I am so weary of this! We can't somehow willpower our way out of the system in which our votes are being cast! We have to change it!

#us politics #american politics #voting systems #electoral college #voting

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