#Republi(CUNTS)

[xtruss]

As the Left Looks to 2028, It Waits on Ocasio-Cortez’s Big Decision

With Bernie Sanders unlikely to run for president again and Democratic voters fuming at party leaders, many progressives see an open lane. But who will fill it?

— By Reid J. Epstein and Katie Glueck | March 23, 2025 | The New York Times

Many Progressive Democrats see Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York as the obvious successor to the left-wing movement championed by Senator Bernie Sanders of Vermont. Credit...Mikayla Whitmore for The New York Times

For the last decade, Senator Bernie Sanders of Vermont has been running for president, planning a run for president or pushing former President Joseph R. Biden Jr. to adopt more progressive policies.

But now, as Democrats find their legal and fund-raising institutions under attack from the Trump administration, their base voters furious at their congressional leadership and their party’s popularity at a generational low, progressives are also staring down the prospect of a post-Bernie future.

A movement politician with a large and devoted base of supporters, the 83-year-old Mr. Sanders has signaled that he does not intend to run for president again. The question now is who will lead the network he built from scratch into the next presidential election and beyond.

Interviews with nearly 20 progressive Democrats about the left wing’s future revealed a faction that sees the ideas Mr. Sanders has championed — reducing the power of billionaires, increasing the minimum wage, focusing more on the plight of workers — as core to the next generation of mainstream Democratic politics.

Though there is little agreement about who will emerge to guide progressives into a post-Sanders era, virtually everyone interviewed said there was one clear leader for the job: Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York.

And it just so happened that Mr. Sanders and Ms. Ocasio-Cortez spent three days last week on a “Fighting Oligarchy” tour through Arizona, Nevada and Colorado. In Denver, they drew 34,000 people, what Sanders aides said was the largest crowd of his career. Neither has so much as obliquely referred to the torch-passing nature of their trip, and in an interview, Mr. Sanders declined to answer questions about whether Ms. Ocasio-Cortez, 35, would inherit his mantle. But the subtext of their travels appears clear.

She is what’s next — if she wants it.

“Alexandria has been doing an extraordinary job in the House,” Mr. Sanders said. “You can’t sit back. You can’t wallow in despair. You’ve got to stand up, fight back and get involved in every way that you can. There’s nobody I know who can do that better than Alexandria.”

Ocasio-Cortez’s Three Options

“Alexandria has been doing an extraordinary job in the House,” Mr. Sanders said of Ms. Ocasio-Cortez, left. Credit...Haiyun Jiang for The New York Times

Ms. Ocasio-Cortez, who declined an interview request, has said nothing publicly about her political plans. Several people who said they had spoken with her relayed that she was far from making any decisions.

But the fourth-term congresswoman has three clear options.

She could focus on the House, where she has become a well-liked and respected member of the Democratic caucus, and try to become a committee chairwoman if Democrats win back a majority in next year’s midterm elections.

She could run for the seat now held by Senator Chuck Schumer of New York, the minority leader. Or she could seek the presidency in 2028.

(Ms. Ocasio-Cortez has also mused about dropping out of politics altogether, the people who had spoken with her said. This seems less likely, given her lengthy admonition on Thursday to a crowd in North Las Vegas, Nev., to stay involved in the fight against the Trump administration.)

Her evident frustration with Mr. Schumer after he greenlit the passage of a Republican spending bill this month heated up the long-simmering conversation about whether she might run for his seat in 2028, whether he seeks a sixth term or not.

A person who has worked with Ms. Ocasio-Cortez on campaigns, and who insisted on anonymity to discuss private outreach, recounted being inundated with calls from Democrats — and not just those on the far left — after Mr. Schumer’s vote, asking about the congresswoman’s future and encouraging her to consider higher office.

“She’s not looking to jump to the next thing or the next thing or the next thing, just for the simple reason of jumping to that thing,” said former Representative Jamaal Bowman of New York, a political ally and friend of Ms. Ocasio-Cortez’s. “When everyone is saying, ‘Speed up,’ that’s actually the time to slow down.”

He added: “You got to take a breath. That race for the U.S. Senate is three years away. Let’s govern for a little bit.”

Ms. Ocasio-Cortez has also had extensive conversations with House allies like Representative Jamie Raskin of Maryland, who said he had spoken with her about his own deliberations over whether to run for the Senate. Ahead of last year’s election, Mr. Raskin decided to remain in the House, passing on a Senate race in which he would have been a heavy favorite.

The Senate provides a larger megaphone for politicians, Mr. Raskin said, but he believes they can accomplish more of their policy goals in the House, a prospect that may appeal to Ms. Ocasio-Cortez — who hardly needs a larger megaphone.

“We are in a moment of crisis, and a crisis is always a moment when new leadership surfaces to speak to the moral and political imperatives of the time,” Mr. Raskin said. “This crisis may be the end of some people’s political careers, and it may be the beginning of some people’s political careers.”

2028 Jockeying On The Left

Gov. JB Pritzker of Illinois is one of several mainstream Democrats who have drawn attention from progressive activists because of their pushback to the Trump administration. Credit...Todd Heisler/The New York Times

The question of who could assume the Sanders mantle — at least in part — is all but certain to come to a head in the next presidential election.

In some ways, the jockeying is already evident.

“I don’t think there’s going to be, in my view, a standard-bearer or two standard-bearers or three standard-bearers for the progressive movement,” said Representative Ro Khanna, a California Democrat who has had conversations to game out a potential 2028 presidential campaign of his own. “We’re going to see the beginning of a new progressive era where we’re going to see successive progressive nominees.”

Of course, there are deep divides in the party over how far to the left Democrats should go.

But some also argue that the tensions in today’s Democratic Party no longer center on the kinds of ideological clashes that characterized the 2020 primary race — left versus moderate and litmus tests on issues like single-payer health care.

At least for now, these Democrats say, the debates concern how and where to draw the line against President Trump and Elon Musk, the richest man in the world.

Several mainstream Democrats, including Senator Chris Murphy of Connecticut, Gov. Tim Walz of Minnesota and Gov. JB Pritzker of Illinois, himself a billionaire, have drawn attention from progressive activists because of their vigorous pushback to the Trump administration.

“The biggest split amongst Democrats is between those who want to stand and fight and those that want to play dead,” said Representative Greg Casar, a Texas Democrat and the chairman of the Congressional Progressive Caucus. “We need more leaders from the stand-and-fight wing of the Democratic Party.”

Danielle Brecker, a leader of Empire State Indivisible, which has called on Mr. Schumer to step aside as minority leader, said she saw Ms. Ocasio-Cortez as the “future of the party” with any number of promising paths.

But she questioned the country’s willingness to elect a woman in 2028.

“I sadly think that it probably needs to be some very safe white man,” she said. “I feel terrible saying that. That wound is still very sore.”

How Anger May Drive Democratic Politics

Democrats hosting town-hall events meant to hold Republicans accountable for the Trump agenda have found themselves facing liberal pushback for not being able to change the country’s course. Credit...Mike Belleme for The New York Times

When Mr. Trump was in office the first time, the liberal energy was firmly with Mr. Sanders.

By the time the 2020 Democratic presidential primary race began, several contenders rushed to embrace Mr. Sanders’s goals on heath care and other issues — even though most of the party’s successful candidates in the 2018 midterm elections adopted more moderate stances. The party’s eventual nominee in 2020, Mr. Biden, took a more moderate tack as well.

There are now signs that outraged constituents have regained the power to steer their elected officials. Anger at Mr. Schumer and Senate Democrats last month prompted futile displays of opposition to Mr. Trump’s cabinet appointments. Democrats hosting town-hall events meant to hold Republicans accountable for the Trump agenda have found themselves facing liberal pushback for not being able to change the country’s course.

Taking the nation in a new direction will require, some progressives said, a sustained effort to demonstrate both popular opposition to Mr. Trump’s agenda and support for a liberal alternative.

“After the murder of George Floyd, you saw a massive outpouring,” said Keith Ellison, the Democratic attorney general of Minnesota, whom Mr. Sanders backed in 2017 to become the Democratic National Committee chairman. “You saw a lot of people making statements about police accountability, diversity, equity and inclusion. And then when the movement subsides, they’re ready to roll it all back.

“So there’s a lesson there. The lesson is you’re going to have to stay in the streets.”

— Reid J. Epstein covers campaigns and elections from Washington. Before joining The Times in 2019, he worked at The Wall Street Journal, Politico, Newsday and The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. Reid J. Epstein reported from North Las Vegas, Nevada, and Katie Glueck from New York.

— Katie Glueck is a Times National Political Reporter.

[23victoria]

angels in tibet

ꨄ༊*·˚ pairings: 𝓸𝓼𝓬𝓪𝓻 𝓹𝓲𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓲 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

₊✩°｡⋆ authors note: 𝓲'𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓲 𝔀𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓫𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝓼 𝓲'𝓶 𝓰𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓵 𝓼𝓸𝓸𝓷! 𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷 𝓼𝓸𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓲 𝓽𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓼𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰! 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓮𝓷𝓳𝓸𝔂!!

ꨄ༊*·˚ synopsis: 𝓸𝓼𝓬𝓪𝓻 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓾𝓹𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓷𝓮𝔀 𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

₊✩°｡⋆ 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓫𝓮 𝓪𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽?! CLICK HERE!

ꨄ༊*·˚ F1 MASTERLIST

y/nl/n

liked by oscarpiastri, badgirlriri, alexandrasaintmleux, dior, chanel, lewishamilton, sza, arianagrande and 2,151,141 more

i might just hypnotize you 🤍

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oscarpiastri i’m hypnotize 😫😫

alexandrasaintmleux hypnotize me pleaseeee 🤧🤤

user11 ughhh she’s so fineee 😍😍

bellahadid my sexy girl 🤧😍

user68 she a baddie she know she a 10!!!

user1 what’s 4 + 4?!

user5 face card eatsss 🤩🤩

y/nl/n

liked by oscarpiastri, badgirlriri, alexandrasaintmleux, dior, chanel, lewishamilton, sza, arianagrande and 3,516,171 more

booked and busy being me 🖤💫

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user32 omgggg

alexandrasaintmleux badasssss

oscarpiastri #needthat 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

user24 mother 🥰🥰

sabrinacarpenter wow wow wow wow wow

user123 is it true you’re going to be in street fighter too?!?!

↳ user4 @.user123 omg she is?!?!

↳ user55 @.user123 what is that?!?!

↳ user123 @.user55 it’s a dance competition show in korea it’s so good!! def check it out!!

↳ user6 @.user55 omg if she’s in it i hope she wins!!!

↳ user21 @.user55 where can i watch?!?!

y/nl/n has posted a new story!!

twitter

y/nl/n and jamrepublic

liked by oscarpiastri, badgirlriri, alexandrasaintmleux, straykids, lewishamilton, sza, sabrinacarpenter and 3,192,718 more

supriseeee!!! i’m in #StreetWomanFighter2! as jam republic’s leader!!! check us out!! and vote for us to win!!!

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oscarpiastri yes baby!! beyond proud of you!! you’re going to do amazing!! I can’t wait for the world to see!!

leahkateb will be tuning in!!! proud of u angel 🥺✨

georgerussel will be watching immediately!!!

bellahadid omg i can’t wait to watch this!!!

user3 streaming rn!!!

alexandrasaintmleux you’re gonna kill it my loveee 🥰

badgirlriri show them the bad bitch you are boo.

user55 AHHHH IM SO EXCITED!!

user89 omg this is going to be amazing!!

oscarpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, badgirlriri, alexandrasaintmleux, dior, bts, straykids, sza, arianagrande, landonorris and 1,569,871 more

guys!! my beautiful and talented girlfriend @.y/nl/n is on #StreetWomanFighter with @.jamrepublic as their leader!! check them out and support my girl for me!!!

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y/nl/n babeeee!!!! omggg!!! you’re so cuteee!! i can’t!! tysm!! 🥺❤️✨

↳ oscarpiastri @.y/nl/n i love you baby! 😘❤️

user9 ahhhh we stan a supportive boyfriend!! 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

user222 the way oscar always supports y/n!!! need a man like that in my life!

user11 the way he always supports her is so cutee!!

user444 goals frfr!!!

user123 i will be supporting!!! 🫡🫡🫡

↳ oscarpiastri @.user123 thank you!! 🥰

zhouguyanu definitely will be watching and supporting!!!

user450 go y/n!!!!

y/nl/n posted a new story!!!!

awww tysmmm baby!!! need this sm!! this helped with my pre-performance nerves! 🥺🤧

y/nl/n

liked by oscarpiastri, badgirlriri, alexandrasaintmleux, billboard, landonorris, complex, arianagrande and 998,818 more

they underestimated us 🔥🔥 how’d we do?!?! vote for us to win!!! #teamjamrepublic #StreetWomanFighter2

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oscarpiastri bet they won’t do it again 😌

alexandrasaintmleux ATE THEM UPP!!!

user22 JAM REPUBLIC #1 BABY!!!

user1 you guys are so gonna win!!!

badgirlriri cunt.

user222 it was such an amazing performance!!! 🤧

bellahadid so obsessed!!

user777 you guys just keep leveling up!! 🔥💯

oscarpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, y/nl/n, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, lewishamilton, georgerussell, maxverstappen and 1,392,271 more

my girl @.y/nl/n and @.jamrepublic performance last night was amazing!! thank you guys for all the support you have being showing them!! continue to watch #StreetWomanFighter2 and vote for #teamjamrepublic

y/nl/n baby!! thank you so much for your support!! you’re amazing 🥹🥺❤️✨

user3 he’s such a loverboy i can’tttt

landonorris she’s been killing it!!!

user1 he’s so cutee for this!!!

georgerussell always tuned in!!

user22 outfits ate!!

mclaren everyone’s rooting for y/n and jam repbulic!!

user89 he’s a reason why my standards are so high!!

↳ y/nl/n @.user89 and don’t you ever lower them. oscar is truly a blessing in my life. i love him so much!!

oscarpiastri @.y/nl/n i love you baby ❤️

y/nl/n

liked by oscarpiastri, badgirlriri, alexandrasaintmleux, charlesleclerc, lewishamilton, fentybeauty and 3,458,918 more

sexy & spicy 🌶️ with a hint of sweetness 🍬

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badgirlriri you’re so fucking hot

oscarpiastri can’t believe i can call you mine 🤤😫😍

↳ y/nl/n @.oscarpiastri believe baby 😘

user92 goddess

alexandrasaintmleux goddamnnnnn 🤤🤤 marry me pleasee?!

user26 she’s so hotttt

user67 that lip color is so pretty 😍😍 what is is?!?!

↳ y/nl/n @.user67 it’s riri from @.fentybeauty

y/nl/n

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, alexandrasaintmleux, dior, sephora, lewishamilton, sza, arianagrande and 2,374,910 more

guys!!! one more day till #StreetWomanFighter2 comes to an end!! i’ve had such a a amazing experience here!! the crowd, the fans, the dancers i met!! everything has been amazing!! i can’t wait for you guys to see our final show tomorrow!! don’t forget to vote #jamrepbulic to win tm!!! see u guys soon!! ;)

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user4 you girls made history!!

lewishamilton this was legendary!!

oscarpiastri baby you guys killed this 🤩

user3 the choreography is so fucking good!!

bellahadid so proud of you!!

user81 nonstop replay, can’t get this song out of my head!

user7 learning this dance rn!!

user888 literally my favorite dance ever!!

f1

PSA: to all formula one fans and fans of #81, Oscar Piastri. He would like to celebrate this race win by having you guys go vote for his girlfriend’s team @.jamrepublic in the #StreetWomanFighter2 finals tomorrow night at 8pm !! Also who doesn’t love @.y/nl/n!! Wishing her and her team all the best in tomorrow finals!! Don’t forget to vote for them to win!!

f1 @.oscarpiastri It’s my pleasure 😇

↳ oscarpiastri thank you admin 🫡

user22 oscar getting the f1 admin to promote y/b and her team at there dance competition is so fucking iconic and cutee!!

user6 he’s a real one for this!!!

user55 he’s such a supportive boyfriend omfg

user65 someone find me an oscar piastri please!!!

user67 now this…is a man. mhmhmmm.

user01 lmk when you find him 🙏🙏🙏

user65 king shit!! 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

oscarpiastri just posted a new story!!

y/nl/n

liked by oscarpiastri, badgirlriri, alexandrasaintmleux, dior, chanel, lewishamilton, sza, arianagrande and 6,982,431 more

had to remind them i didn’t come to play 😘💫

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badgirlriri how they forget you are simply just. that. girl. ?!

oscarpiastri always been that girl!!!

user111 this dance is fucking fireee omg!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥

user333 literally was hypnotized watching you both! 😍

user145 you both killed it!! 🙂‍↕️

bellahadid queen shit!! 🤧✨

user009 jam republic are my winner idccc!!

y/nl/n and oscarpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, badgirlriri, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, lewishamilton, sza, arianagrande and 22,982,961 more

future Mrs. Piastri 💍🥺✨

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bellahadid ahhhhhhh congratulations!!

landonorris congrats osc!! 🥰❤️

alexandrasaintmleux so happy to witness that beautiful moment in person 🥹🥹

badgirlriri she’s a fiancé 😘💫

user34 wishing you guys nothing but the best!!

sza congratulations you guys! beautiful! 🥺🤍

user87 this is the dream!

user22 I love love 🥹🥰

f1 literally one of the best days ever!!! hello?!?! omfg!! congratulations!! 🎉🤍 - admin

user222 omg omg omg

user81 ITS HAPPENING YESSSS!!!!

@ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @Ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @Formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @winkev1 @strawblueberrys @Blakesbearblog @cel-b @perfumejamal @aykxz98 @pandora-08 @teti-menchon0604 @bxtosa @fadingcloudballoon @whatevenisthisxxxxx @anamiad00msday @luula @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eoduuung @eternoangel @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @flowerpetalk @oledoledoffen @jimcarreyfann42 @revolutionsingingintherain @acesbakery @oliviah-25 @matcha—-matcha @unkownmystery_22 @sophienorris18-blog @armystay89 @paucubarsisimp

[bikananjarrus]

ALSO bitchy4bitchy stellan avar

bitchy4bitchy stellan elzar

[ciades]

✪ — WINNER TAKES IT ALL ; bada lee x f!reader | !SPOILERS!

summary: it all comes down to this: bada’s just won street woman fighter, and needs someone to celebrate with. (spoiler: overstimulation + 🧠 from bada) the mighty fall universe

pairing: bada lee x swf2!f!reader

warning: SMUT!! it’s intense + not for the faint hearted. you’re responsible for what you read <3

Bada’s eaten you out plenty of times before.

But never like this— never with this intensity. You’re blushing furiously as she adjusts you, hooking one calf over her shoulder so she can nuzzle up against your cunt.

“This pussy is my reward, isn’t it?,” She murmurs, never before sounding so undone, so starved. “I won the competition, so I get to put my mouth on this pretty cunt, don’t I?” Before you can think of a reply to give her, Bada parts your labia with her fingers, pouncing forward to lick into you.

You let out a yelp, legs tensing automatically, digging your heels into her back as her rough tongue laps over your folds. The cold edges of the bathroom sink dig into your ass, and your thankful for Bada keeping you balanced and supporting most of your weight. Every flick of her tongue is precise and experienced, making you shiver as her nose rubs against your clit. The sensation has your back arching, a rising pressure— you’re sensitive.

“Bada,” you whine helplessly, no other option but to reach down and hold onto her hair. Bada hums against your pussy in affirmation, effortlessly sinking two fingers into your dripping heat. Your cunt stretches and clenches around the intrusion, and when she adds the third, a high-pitched moan escapes your mouth.

Bada moans in response at your pleasure, the sound vibrating through your core. You can feel her smiling against your skin.

Your hand, previously stroking her hair, clenches a fist against her now mussled locks. A loud groan leaves Bada’s mouth at the pulling sensation, lips latching onto your clit and sucking hard.

It all feels too much, you’re too hot, sweating in the white and pink outfit your Jam Republic team mates chose for you. Your dress is wrinkled from being pulled up to your hips by Bada. You’re breathing heavily and Bada purrs. She purrs and the sound goes straight to your clit.

“You- you feel so good, Bada please-“ Now you’re begging, but unsure what for. Your vision blurs when she starts fucking her fingers into you even faster, the squelching sound almost too loud to bear. Bada continues her devilish pace until the pressure in your belly builds, and builds, and—

“Wait!—“ You sob, but it’s too late. Bada pushes a fourth finger inside and you feel so full , drooling out another gush of slick, which Bada licks up.

The world blurs through the wetness of your lashes, on the wet heat of your breath puffing against your own hand in attempts to silence yourself, on Bada’s fingers, nudging you open as deep as she can go. It stings, but your toes curl. It stings, but your thighs shake, you whisper things like deeper, harder, don’t stop, don’t stop—

Your orgasm is sudden and splintering. You choke on a cry, your wetness gushing out of you and spilling onto Bada’s hand, which is still thrusting in and out in an eye-roll inducing rhythm. Bada laps it up eagerly, chasing your taste and nipping hard at your clit until you shake.

You’re oversensitive, nearly numb from the after shock, pussy flushed and twitching from Bada’s administrations. Bada drinks your release all through your orgasm, only stopping when you fist a hand in her hair and pull her away.

“B-bada,” You hiccup, flushed and trembling, “Too much.”

Bada rises from between your legs, face drenched with your slick, eyes wild and gleaming. She keeps her fingers plugged into your cunt for a few seconds, stroking your inner walls until you’re shaking.

“Good girl,” Bada says roughly, gently pulling her hand out of you, turning her head to plant kisses on your thighs. “My baby’s always so good for me, isn’t she?”

You just hum and smile in agreement, too tired to say more. Bada stands up and lets you collect yourself for a few moments before you both have to return to the celebration, peppers your face with kisses, moving flyaway strands behind your ears in a move so gentle you feel like crying.

“All those prizes and you’re the best gift yet.” She teases.

A scoff escapes you, raising your arms to engulf her in a hug. “Have I told you how proud I am? How much I loved seeing you dance on that stage?”

“I think you’ve shown me that plenty already, y/n.”

© BADAGF

[phantom-of-the-memes]

⚠️ The general election in the Republic of Ireland is happening tomorrow, November 29th⚠️

Here’s what you need to know if you are a leftist/ just want Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael out of government.

Firstly, why do we need to get them out?

Because they have been in power for almost 100 years! 100 years of a “centre” right government. We have not even had a centre left government in all this time, never mind a left government. Something has to fucking change. Even if you’re not a socialist like me, you have to acknowledge that all the problems currently in Ireland have been caused, or at least not dealt with by them. They’re the ones in power! And yet they talk about the issues in Ireland and how something has to be done… Simon Harris is a joke with his “a new energy” signs. Cunt you’re the current fucking Taoiseach!

So, who should you vote for?

If you truly want change, and a government that is for the people, vote People Before Profit number one. They are actually putting actions behind their words. They have explicitly said that they will refuse to go into government with FF or FG. They want the other left parties to form a left coalition with them, and also make a stand to refuse a right government. Other left parties, however, are quite lukewarm on the situation, and won’t join the coalition. But still put other left parties for number two and three. Some are more preferable than others. But change is change.

Ok if you’re not a socialist like me, there are other options. Sinn Féin is centre left, so if a bit more conservative than others. This makes it the third most voted for party generally. It’s a bit more palatable to the general public than the commies I vote for lol. I don’t agree with the majority of their policies, especially with them dialling back their support for trans people. I assume to appeal to FF and FG supporters. As a trans person I wouldn’t personally vote for them. But I understand the logic of being strategic about your vote. They’re the most likely to win out of the left parties.

Why should you still vote for parties that likely won’t win the overall vote?

Because they will still get seats! This isn’t a presidential election where it’s all or nothing. The majority winner gets to be the ones in power. But this is a democracy. More votes for a party means more seats for them in the Dáil. So it does matter.

What is each party’s stance on taking action against Israel?

Here’s a very helpful graphic from the ucd bds group on Instagram (ucd_bds):

See FF and FG’s stance? Exactly.

Who you should definitely not vote for?

Aontú are literal nazis. Their main selling point is that they hate immigrants. They want to strip their rights and practically stop immigration all together. They also hate women, and want to criminalise abortion again. The members of the party were big parts of the pro life movement that tried to stop the abortion referendum. Of course they also hate trans and queer people. Basically any and all minorities. They aim to bring fascism to our government. Don’t let this happen. This is also why voting is so important, so we can prevent this.

And this should go without saying, but don’t fucking vote for the joker independent candidates that have signs around saying shit like “make crime illegal”. It’s not even a joke to vote for them. You’re an asshole if you throw your vote away like that.

Remember to find out where your local polling station is, and bring your polling card, on Friday the 29th of November.

[enriquemzn262]

I think I have mentioned this before, but one of my dad’s most fucked up war stories was that one time when, during the worst ambush he ever faced, when his entire battalion got surrounded and nearly destroyed by a guerrilla force 3 times their size, he saw how one of his men (dad was a sergeant) got shot in the head and fell face up in the middle of a coffee field, it took dad a while to get to the guy, and when he went to pick him up and pull him to safety, he found to his absolute horror that the shot had blown the back of his head, partially exposing his brain, which was now filled with ants since he fell right on top of an anthill.

Dad and a medic managed to clean the ants off with water and then dress the wound the best they could, all the while they were still getting shot at, and after half a day of fighting they managed to push the enemy back far enough to establish an impromptu helipad for MEDEVAC, and since somehow that guy was still alive, he was the first one to be evacuated.

(The very first helicopter that came was a brand-new Huey that, according to the pilot, was also used by the president of the time, the pilot actually mentioning that trying to justify a refusal to carry the ants guy because he was still bloodied all over and the pilot didn’t want to dirty his fancy new rotorcraft, dad proceeded to order one of his men to take the bucket they were using to clean the blood off the gauze, and dump it all over the crew compartment, just so he would no longer complain about that, Air Force pilots where and still kinda are pretentious cunts like that)

The guy, a corporal, actually ended up making a full recovery, but he never believed dad nor anyone else for that matter about the ants in his brain, and he eventually had to be honorably discharged from the army because he began to act strangely after he left the hospital, dad says he was never the same, and after he left the army he struggled for a while to find a job because of that, thankfully through his army buddies he eventually found work as a security guard, but later in life after his own retirement dad found out he died from natural causes relatively early at around 50 years old, where dad believes it was because of what happened back then.

That ambush happened on workers day, May 1 1964, during preparations for the attack on the self-proclaimed “Marquetalia Republic”, hence why so many guerrillas managed to attack an entire army battalion, dad says that was the most fire he ever took in his 16 years of army service, and to this day every May 1 he sits on his porch and remembers that day as it had happened yesterday, he lost so many friends during their desperate defense of their positions, so I always try to take him out to do something just so I can distract him, as that’s the one day that truly gave him PTSD, which considering he spent most of those 16 years fighting against guerrillas all over the country , is saying something.

[xtruss]

Powerful Speeches From Trans Dems Flip 29 Republicans, Anti-Trans Bills Die In Montana

Transgender Reps Zooey Zephyr and SJ Howell Delivered Powerful Speeches on the Montana House Floor on Thursday. Republicans Defected En Masse to Join Them in Voting Against Anti-Trans Bills.

— Erin Reed | March 06, 2025

Something remarkable happened in Montana today. As has become routine, anti-trans bills were up for debate—the state has spent more than half of its legislative days this session pushing such bills through committees and the House floor, with Republicans largely voting in lockstep. But something changed.

A week ago, transgender Representative Zooey Zephyr delivered a powerful speech against a bill that would create a separate indecent exposure law for transgender people. Since then, momentum on the House floor slowed. Today, two of the most extreme bills targeting the transgender community came up for a vote. Transgender Representatives Zooey Zephyr and SJ Howell gave impassioned speeches—this time, they broke through. In a stunning turn, 29 Republicans defected, killing both bills. One Republican even took the floor to deliver a scathing rebuke of the bill’s sponsor.

The first bill to reach the House floor was HB 675, a measure that would ban drag performances and Pride parades in Montana. A previous drag ban had already been struck down by the courts after it was enforced against a transgender woman—who was not a drag artist—to prevent her from speaking about public history at a library. In response, the bill’s sponsor, Rep. Caleb Hinkle, introduced HB 675 to circumvent that ruling.

Rather than relying on state enforcement, this bill would grant individuals the private right to sue if a public drag performance took place, making it more difficult to challenge in court. During committee hearings, Hinkle went even further, calling being transgender "a fetish" and arguing that the law was necessary to prevent trans people from dancing in public.

And that’s when transgender Representative Zooey Zephyr took to the floor.

"Here I am again to rise on another bill targeting the LGBTQ+ community," she said, exasperated. "At its very core, drag is art. It is very beautiful art. It has a deep history in this country, and it is important to my community. You know, if you are a woman in this body wearing a suit today, you are in some way challenging gender norms that existed long ago… There were three-article-of-clothing laws 50 years ago that said if you wore three articles of clothing that were indicative of the opposite gender, they could stop you, arrest you… it was those laws that led to the police raiding an LGBTQ+ bar that led to the Stonewall riots, one of the most important civil rights moments in my community’s history," she began.

“When the sponsor closed on this bill, he said, this bill is needed… and I quote his words… ‘because transgenderism is a fetish based on crossdressing.’ And I am here to stand before the body and say that my life is not a fetish. My existence is not a fetish. I was proud within a month ago to have my son up in the gallery here. Many of you on the other side met him. When I go to walk him to school, that’s not a lascivious display. That is not a fetish. That is my family. This is what these bills are trying to come after… not obscene shows in front of children, we have the Miller test for that, we have laws for that. This is a way to target the trans community, and that is in my opinion, and in the speaker’s own words.”

Then something even more remarkable happened: A Republican, Representative Sherry Essman, rose to defend Rep. Zephyr and chastised the bill’s sponsor. “I’m speaking as a parent and a grandmother. And I’m very emotional because I know the representative in seat 20 is also a parent. No matter what you think of that, she is doing her best to raise a child. I did my best to raise my children as I saw fit, and I’m taking it for granted that my children are going to raise my grandchildren as they see fit,” she began.

“Everybody in here talks about how important parental rights are. I want to tell you, in addition to parental rights, parental responsibility is also important. And if you can’t trust a decent parent to decide where and when their kids should see what, then we have a bigger problem,” she turned to parental rights and spoke about how people who claim those rights should vote against the bill.

And then, she closed by chastising the bill’s sponsor for bringing the bill, “Trust the parents to do what’s right, and stop these crazy bills that are a waste of time. They’re a waste of energy. We should be working on property tax relief and not doing this sort of business on the floor of this house and having to even talk about this.”

Following the speeches, 13 Republicans, the most of any anti-trans bill this cycle, flipped and voted against the bill. See it as it happened here:

Were this all that happened, it would have been remarkable enough—such aisle-crossing has become rare in modern politics, and on transgender issues, it is almost unheard of. But Representative Zephyr is not the only transgender lawmaker in Montana. Representative SJ Howell, a powerhouse in their own right, took the floor when an even more extreme bill followed immediately afterwards—HB754, a measure that would remove transgender children from their parents. They had a powerful speech to deliver as well.

Representative Howell opened, "I stand to oppose this bill… When a state intervenes to remove a child from their family, that is one of the most serious and weighty responsibilities that the state has. That is not something to be taken lightly. Every time a child is removed from their family, it’s a tragedy. Sometimes a necessary tragedy, but a tragedy nonetheless. This bill does not come close to the seriousness with which those decisions should be contemplated."

They pointed directly to the bill’s language: "On page 1, line 19, any child protective service specialist, peace officer, or county attorney who has reason to believe any child is in immediate danger or harm may immediately remove the child. What we are adding… a child transitioning gender with the support of a parent or guardian is considered in immediate or apparent danger or harm."

Howell then turned to the bill’s vagueness and the dangers it posed to transgender children as well as any child who defies gender norms. "Transitioning gender is not defined in this bill… so what does that mean? Maybe it means, as the sponsor said, surgery or medical treatment. Maybe it means therapy, mental healthcare. Maybe it means a kid who gets a haircut and a new set of clothes. Maybe a name change… a legal name change, or someone who wants to try out a different name… a strict reading of this bill could include all of that."

They urged lawmakers to consider the real consequences. "Put yourself in the shoes of a CPS worker who is confronted with a young person, 15 years old maybe, who is happy… healthy… living in a stable home with loving parents, who is supported and has their needs met? And they are supposed to remove that child from their home and put them in the care of the state? We should absolutely not be doing that."

Then, the bill went to a vote. This time, the Montana Republican Party fully fractured—29 Republicans crossed the aisle to defeat it.

Watch it as it happened here:

Following the vote, Representative Zephyr took to social media to discuss the implications. “These kind of votes are born out of transgender representation in government,” she posted on her bluesky account. “Howell & I have built solid relationships with Republicans and those relationships change hearts, minds, and (eventually) votes. It is painful, grueling work. But it makes a difference.”

At a time when anti-trans bills are sailing through red-state legislatures, many are left wondering how they can be stopped. Some Democrats, like Gavin Newsom, have chosen appeasement—standing alongside anti-trans hate leaders like Charlie Kirk instead of standing up for transgender people. But Representatives Zooey Zephyr and SJ Howell offer a different path. As transgender lawmakers in a Republican-dominated government, they have shown that representation, relationships, and the power of speaking truth in hostile spaces can move hearts and minds. Their success is a reminder that even in the most challenging environments, refusing to back down can make a difference.

[sinisterexaggerator]

Can I ask for Cad Bane x FTM reader hcs? SFW and NSFW, no limits. Maybe a fic if you're in the mood? I'm on anon because I'm shy.

Hello, anon! Hopefully, you will like this. I did my best. This is my first try at a ftm reader insert! Feedback, likes, comments, reblogs are all appreciated if you feel they are deserved! I will take correction and advice for THIS FIC ONLY. It's important to listen to the target audience. <3

---

A Good Story

Cad Bane x Trans Male (AFAB) Reader

Summary: You are a bored weapon's merchant on Fondor, a planet located near Devaron; Cad Bane has a date with Bolla Ropal at the Jedi temple and is in the market for something special—but you have the nerve to try to rip him off. Bane has money, and you're in need—surely he won't bat an eye at the high price tag?

Warnings: NSFW / 18+ for double-penetration and finger-fucking. Bane goes in both ways. I also make use of the words cunt and dick in relation to genitalia. There is a mention of the reader wearing a binder.

Word count: 4.5K +

Ao3

God, you were bored.

Fondor was a planet with little to do save for your dead-end job, lonely nights spent nursing bottom shelf brandy in some dingy, hole-in-the-wall cantina, unable to escape the smells of the shipyard. It reeked of tibanna, oil, tar, and rust, the odors having long since taken up residence in the vibrissae of your nose, lingering there, giving you no short reprieve—even after a shower.

Still, that wasn’t even your work. The Clone War was getting closer to your rocky home world with every passing day. It made sense. You lived in the Colonies, situated within the Inner Rim; threats from the Separatists loomed just beyond your backyard, populated with important trade routes.

It appeared Count Dooku, the leader of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, had the idea that Fondor should join his ranks. The Republic now vied for your attention but talks led nowhere—no one wanted to join Dooku willingly.

That’s where you came in.

Well, sort of.

“Good choice,” you praised the buyer of a DL-22 blaster pistol, the man placing the sum of five-hundred credits into your outstretched hand.

“Best to be armed nowadays,” he said dismissively, looking down the barrel of his newly acquired, high-priced toy.

The DL-22 was designed by BlasTech Industries and packed quite a powerful punch. A high-quality focusing crystal had been utilized by the weapon’s manufacturer to increase the damage output of the pistol’s blast bolts. This resulted in a reduction of the gun's stun setting, but most found the exchange to be well worth it.

“Can I interest you in any extra power cells? Carts? It only comes with the one up front.” If you had learned nothing else from this job, it was that your boss demanded you try to upsell every customer who walked in off the street. You resented him for that, but you also liked the extra commission when things worked out.

“Nah, got some back home.” The man was already holstering his purchase, aiming to walk out the door.

“We have a three rotation return policy,” you said, more as an afterthought. The man nodded he understood, then left.

You sighed. You wondered how much longer until your next customer. Sometimes, hours passed, and you would not see a single soul. It wasn’t that you minded, but the time seemed to drag on endlessly. There was only so much you could do on your datapad; scrolling through newsreels after a while became demoralizing.

You had just begun to read an article about Wilhuff Tarkin, the governor of Eriadu, when the door chimed. You found a stopping point at the end of the next paragraph and looked up, a habitual, customer-friendly smile having crept across one side of your face.

Then, it fell clean off.

A Duros strolled into your shop, the echo of his boots filling your ears as he sauntered across the duracrete floor.

That was the word for it, sauntered—he was strolling with what could only be described as a kind of confident detachment, a wide-brimmed hat hiding the fine details of his disposition, though you saw he was sporting the tiniest hint of a snaggle-toothed smirk.

You cleared your throat. “Hello, welcome.”

He said nothing, coming ever closer, causing the skin on the back of your neck to prickle. He seemed familiar, somehow, though you couldn’t quite place it. His short walk ended as he set the pads of all ten of his fingers down flat across the countertop, just to the right of the register—you wondered if he meant to rob you blind.

You allowed your eyes to travel the length of his skeletal frame, taking in his well-worn ensemble; the tightness of the leather; the glint of the metal accoutrements; the creak of the material as he tipped marginally forward, putting all his weight on one leg as he bent his knee, shifting his stance to one that was more casual.

Then, his chin rose. The face that was revealed startled you to the point you gasped. You sucked in a quick inhalation of air, filling your lungs before you refocused, this time on his eyes.

They were two austere, gleaming red jewels inlaid among the bluest scales—severe in appearance, surrounded by scars of varying depth and length.

Fuck; he was handsome. More attractive than he had any right to be. And his mouth—you suddenly couldn’t take your eyes off it, or off the two tapered fangs that peeked out at you from lips that were dry and cracked. But you thought it didn’t matter—you would kiss those lips if he asked you t—

“—In de market fer somethin’ special.” He interrupted your train of thought for another to take its place. His voice was like something you had never heard before, rough while at the same time smooth and sensual; he was as easy on the ears as he was on the eyes, and he had your full attention.

“Oh?” you asked, doing your utmost to stay calm, to come off as nonchalant. “And what might that be?” you inquired, genuinely curious, though hoping he wouldn’t surprise you with a request that was outside your wheelhouse. You realized that even though you did not know his name, you would hate to disappoint whoever this man was.

“Projectile launcher,” he started, pushing off the counter to stand up straight. He was a tall drink of water, enough to quench your thirst, though staring at him seemed to have the opposite effect. You felt as if you had never been this thirsty in your life. “Fer a cortosis shot.”

“Cortosis ore?” You felt the question had been a dumb one on your part, no sooner than you had asked it.

The Duros’ brow twitched, raising upward toward one side. He folded his arms and stared you down with those cold, crimson eyes, wondering what the hell else you thought he might be referencing.

“Problem?”

“What? No. No, we uh—” You released his heady gaze to glance back down at your datapad with some reluctance. “We have several weapons in stock that might suit your needs.”

You pretended to sort through your inventory, but you had just begun a search for Duros—ones that might be in some form of media, or on the news.

“Yeah? Like what.”

Why was it suddenly hard to swallow? Why did you feel so warm? You felt the blood rushing to your face, unable to curtail the onset of what was presumably anxiety, your finger adeptly scrolling through the holofeed as fast as the device permitted.

“Depends on what you’re after—something compact, something a little flashier—” Your eyes widened as you caught sight of a report some few days back; this Duros had been the one involved in a break-in at the Jedi temple. An APB had been put out for his capture—Cad Bane.

He was considered to be armed and dangerous. That much was obvious. But why was he here now?

“Somethin’ good ‘nough te disarm a Jedi,” came his reply. You looked back up and returned your datapad to the counter. His gaze was measured, calculating.

“Find anythin’ interestin’ on dhere?” the bounty hunter growled, eyeing you with evident suspicion. You panicked, pressing a button alongside the glowing screen so that it would blank out and go dark.

“Many ... something's,” you said awkwardly. You may have been scared shitless, but you weren’t stupid. Not entirely. Stupid enough to use this situation to your advantage, though, or at least stupid enough to try.

“A-a Jedi?” you inquired, trying to keep the fear from your voice, but ultimately changing the subject. You hoped against all odds he hadn’t seen what you had last been looking at.

“What Ah said,” he snapped. “Show me.”

“Right! Sure!”

You scampered to the back, looking amongst the shelves for the blaster you knew you had in stock. You used this moment not only to find something that might please the Duros, but also to catch your breath—your heart was pounding as you came to terms with who was waiting for you, yet you knew the man had money. Lots of it.

“Cad fucking Bane,” you whispered to no one in particular, staring blankly at a row of pistols, your vision nearly blurring as you practically disassociated—unable to believe that the galaxy’s most notorious hired gun had just waltzed into your meager storefront, and on a day you happened to be working.

“What?” came a low note in your ear.

You overtly jumped, turning around, terror-stricken and at a loss for words.

The bastard was right behind you! How had he done that? How did you not even hear him approach?!

“Shit, man! Don’t—don’t karking do that!” you said without thinking. The Duros narrowed his eyes, withdrawing a toothpick he had on his person somewhere, retrieving it from out the corner pocket of his coat.

“Do what,” he asked flatly.

“Sneak up on me!” you panted, gasping for air.

“Wastin’ my time,” he rasped, placing the scrap of wood between his teeth. It was plain as daylight he was losing his patience, yet you had only exchanged a few scant words.

“OK, look. I’m sorry—it’s—it’s not every day Cad Bane walks into my shop.”

“Well, dhen teday’s yer lucky day, innit?” he asked, sarcasm lacing his tone, the Duros speaking from around the inserted toothpick resting gingerly betwixt his fangs.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” You forced yourself to calm by thinking one thought only—if he wanted you dead or to hurt you, he already would have.

“Won’t ask again—show me,” he commanded.

You walked toward the back row of shelves without another word; the Duros followed. You stretched out your arms, gathering what you had been after—a top of the line slugthrower, a weapon that used kinetic energy to fire solid objects, metal objects—you hoped it was what the man was looking for.

You turned around and presented it to him; Bane lifted it straight out of your hands. He turned it this way and that, giving it a thorough examination, extending it as if meaning to take a shot. He pulled the trigger, though it wasn’t loaded, then shifted his gaze toward yours—you had been staring. “How much?”

Now was your chance—would you dare try to coax a little more out of him than the asking price? Maybe money was no object to a person of his wealth and status. It was no secret Bane worked for the highest bidder. Everyone knew his was the highest price tag and that he was capable of any job should you pay him his just dues.

You idly wondered who had paid him to break into the temple back on Coruscant…

“Ye slow?” Bane snarled, flashing his teeth. You had zoned out again, making yourself look more or less like an idiot three times now.

“Two thousand,” you shot back. This particular model was only worth twelve hundred.

The Duros gawked at you, arched a brow, then outright laughed a dry honk of a laugh. “HA! Ye must be dumber dhan kriff te think Ah’m payin dhat.”

“Take it or leave it,” you bravely replied, although you wished you hadn’t for what came next.

The hunter’s eyes narrowed for the second time within your presence. He shoved the shotgun back into your arms, forcing you to stumble backward. He removed the toothpick he had been gnawing on to place it against the underside of your chin. Your own eyes widened as you swallowed down your excess spit.

“Ye tryin’ te pull one over on me, son?” Bane asked, his voice riddled with animosity, betraying his lack of self-restraint.

“I—what? N-no—” you managed, hardly able to look at him directly.

Still, this sudden closeness, the smell of the Duros—it was intoxicating. Despite his piss-poor attitude, his leering was doing things to you. Things you could not explain except that it was your animal brain enlivening, as were your loins, much to your embarrassment.

Then, the Duros smiled. It was a shit-eating, nefarious sort of smile. A smile that made your blood run cold and your groin catch fire. “Dhat fear Ah smell, er somethin’ else?”

Your cheeks burned, though you would recover, finding your obstinance somewhere deep down inside you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, that’s the asking price,” you lied, the pounding of your heart thrumming in your ears.

“Ah know what dhis shit’s werth, and it ain’t dhat,” Bane hissed, pushing the sharp point of his toothpick more succinctly against you, the scars and lines that were etched into the flat of his face close enough to touch, close enough to kiss.

“Make ye a deal, since Ah know ye wanna fuck me,” Bane taunted savagely.

“W-what?!” you asked surprised, thrown off by his candidness. Was he a mind reader? Could he sense your desperation?

What you were not privy to was that Bane was in a rare, good mood, having just stolen a holocron out from under the noses of half a dozen Jedi, making out with a new ship and a payout that was triple. Normally, he might just shoot you for trying to pull a fast one, but there was something about you that intrigued him—maybe it was the brazen way in which you had tried to overcharge him. It was something he might do, after all.

“Pay ye what it’s werth, and Ah’ll give ye somethin’ te tell yer friends,” Bane snickered. “If ye got any,” he nastily teased, adding insult to injury.

“I … I have friends,” you defended, giving him a once over. You felt entirely too hot, your body having betrayed you for wanting this horrible, cutthroat man.

“Dhat mean we have ourselves a deal?” His grin returned, toothy and sadistic.

“I’ll drop it to twelve … but only if you can make me cum.”

Were you crazy? Had you actually gone temporarily insane?

Not only did the Duros’ rostrum crinkle in a twisted sort of delight, but the corners of his horizontal, ovate eyes did as well, his malicious smirk reaching to the tops of his gaunt cheeks.

“Ye got guts, Ah’ll give ye dhat—time te rearrange ‘em,” he stated cattily, flicking his chewed-up toothpick onto the floor.

You almost laughed, but thought it the wrong choice, not that you had much time to think through things to begin with, Bane on you faster than a womp rat up a drainpipe now that you had given your express consent.

The Duros snatched the slugthrower back out of your hands, tossing it down to join his toothpick on the ground, the shotgun landing with a clatter as he grasped you by the collar of your shirt, shoving you back against the row of shelves behind you.

“Turn around and spread ‘em,” he advised.

“Wait! That’s—that’s not exactly what I’m into,” you dared, taking a deep breath.

The hunter canted his head like an inquisitive took’, looking at you like you had just grown a second head yourself. Yet, he did not take yours clean off. Instead, he posed a question.

“Ye exspectin’ Ah be gentle?”

“No, just—go easy.”

“Easy …”

Bane hummed a sound, as if rolling over what you had said in his mind. Then, he closed the gap between you, pressing himself up against your aching loins; you could feel the outline of the Duros through his distressed jeans. It was … unusual, to say the least.

“Have it yer way.”

Bane moved toward the button at the top of your pants, dexterous fingers undoing the clasp within seconds. You found yourself holding your breath as one large hand slipped between the folds of your boxers, trying not to dwell on what he might think once he realized—

“Hold on!” you interjected, the Duros’ creeping digits stopping just below your belt line. He bared his teeth in annoyance, but it couldn’t be helped. You had one more thing to tell him.

“Tryin’ my patienccce,” Bane sizzed, his free hand wandering up to clutch your throat, holding your head steady as he gazed penetratingly into your eyes.

“Just thought maybe you should know that I—”

“Cahnnit,” the hunter snapped, the Duros’ sizeable fingers once more taking to movement as he pressed one between the folds of your labia. “Already know,” he informed you in a matter-of-fact tone. “Think Ah ain’t never karked a man with a cunt before?”

Bane snorted out a laugh as your breath caught in your throat, the Duros guiding his index finger to gently fondle the growth between your legs, “dhis ain’t my ferst rodeo, kid, now try te relax before ye piss me off.”

You nodded, unable to peel your eyes away from his, the brim of his hat steeping you both in shadow as you did the unthinkable, pushing up off your toes in an attempt to kiss him.

The hunter pushed you back with the point of a finger, then dipped down low at the same time he dipped inside you, gathering a measure of your slick. His thumb worked your dick in concentric circles as one large, elongated forefinger gave you something to mull over, the Duros leaving you gasping for air at the thought he hadn’t even stuck his cock inside you yet.

“Feel good?” he asked, as if he cared, as if might actually be concerned for how you were feeling. Whether or not it was an act wasn’t the point, just glad enough that he had taken the time to ask.

“Yes,” you breathed, your mouth so close to his, yet he had still refused to kiss you. It was almost unbearable, Bane immersing his finger into your tight hole to his third knuckle, curling it at just the right slant to apply the perfect amount of pressure against your anterior walls.

“Now… why don’t ye be a good boy and turn around fer me,” he coerced, though not so demanding as last time. His good boy sent your mind reeling; you were already lost to him, unable to move, unable to speak, riding the high that was Bane finger-fucking you in the back of your workplace—shit—if anyone walked in…

You tried to obey him, but your body was not cooperating by no fault of your own. You had not felt this good in ages, the intense pleasure you were experiencing outweighing the frightening prospect of being spied having relations by your immediate supervisor or any other customer.

“Need a lil’ help, do ye?” Bane asked, the wet squelch of his finger vacating your insides causing you to heavily blush. Though incapable of speech, you were past the point of caring, letting the Duros ultimately have his way with you against your better judgment. Maybe you were naive for thinking he wouldn’t hurt you, but things seemed to now be fully out of your control, allowing your unconventional lover to rotate your human form however he so wished.

You felt your pants slide down towards your thighs; your boxers were next, falling past the crack of your ass, Bane once more pressing himself firmly against you as you heard a shuck, a rattle of metal, and the peeling of what sounded like thermoguard being pried apart by its seams.

“Which hole ye want it in?” Bane thought to ask, perhaps assuming he was being considerate. Before you could answer him in any way, shape or form, he decided for you. “Both,” he chortled.

“What do you—” you began, but were quickly silenced, something slick and slimy finding its way up your slit while another something knocked on your back door, though the Duros was kind to you in that its introduction was gradual, his cock’s tapered tip slim and pliable, enabling it to slip inside your ass in tiny increments.

You realized his species must self-lubricate; you thanked the Whills. Even though it felt beyond compare, you knew you would be sore by this time tomorrow.

“Look how good ye take it,” Bane lauded, though you could not tell if he was being sincere. You were left to seethe through your teeth, hissing tiny breaths, Bane only moving insofar as you could stand. He seemed to have a second sense for this, though the other of his cocks pushed up inside you; they were obviously stacked, these dual phalli, ribbed in all the right ways; pressing into you at all the right angles.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed, panting like a man who had just run a marathon, moans of pleasure escaping your throat as a feeling of ecstasy mixed with a good kind of pain traveled its way down your spine, spreading outward from its origin point at the base of your skull.

“If ye insist,” Bane drawled, his bony hips thrusting themselves forward to where you belted out a sound that pleased him, Bane laughing a vicious little laugh as he reached around you, taking up the sizable nub that rested between your thighs.

“Louder,” he instructed, wanting to hear you sing, wanting to feel you writhe under him as he fucked you alongside an inordinate amount of deadly weaponry.

You pressed your hands flat along the shelves in front of you, digging your fingers into the wood. You would leave deep rents by the end of your time here, grasping for purchase as he began to rail you harder.

You moaned again, louder as he deemed it necessary. “Bane,” you praised, holding on for dear life as he gave you a good old-fashioned reach around while doubly penetrating you from behind. The overwhelming number of sensations you were feeling had your brain short-circuiting, the Duros swaying you toward an almost gentle release.

You reached a peak, biting down against your own hand, your dull, human teeth leaving their imprint across your flesh, damp with sweat, proof of pleasure rendered.

“Ain’t gettin’ off so easy after all,” Bane crooned spitefully in your ear. You momentarily wondered if he was referring to your orgasm, until you understood—he didn’t plan on stopping just because you came. He kept on rocking into you, over and over, simultaneously hitting your G-spot while stimulating the nerves in your anus, causing you to cum a second time.

Your body quaked beneath him, his thin hips enough to bruise you, to tenderize the meat of your rump as he gripped either side of your haunches, squeezing tight—you were glad he had never once groped you through your binder.

You weren’t entirely sure why you had agreed to this—especially without protection—but here you were, and you realized you had no desire to stop it from happening.

“Want it,” you croaked. “All of it.”

Bane obliged, discharging a thick, gelid substance into your cunt, followed by another round coating every inch of your inner walls. He did not hold back as was your preference, things only once more becoming impersonal when he raised up off your back, his rail-thin chest having been resting upon you, the rapid fluttering of his heart felt through the sparse fabric of your shirt.

It was a unique feeling, causing you to shiver reflexively, observing that his cocks weren’t by any means synchronized in their release. You only now began to wonder about his anatomy; what purpose it served to have two for a Duros, though you did not have one complaint regardless, and he had not questioned you about yours.

Bane finished himself off, then withdrew from you with a resounding, pressurized suck, every rib and crest felt by your sensitive loins on his way out.

“Hope ye got a ‘fresher ‘round here,” he quipped.

---

Bane had tucked himself away and waited for you, but you had the inkling he wouldn’t have stuck around had he not needed you. In fact, he didn’t—he could have easily walked out of there with the shotgun in tow, but he seemed to be a man of his word, extending an arm to offer you up his credit stick.

“Ye run it fer twelve, like we agreed.”

You nodded; kept quiet. You processed his payment, noting that the name that popped up on your screen was not his own.

“Werhl Tahoon?” you asked, quirking a brow.

“Ah really gotta explain dhat te ye?” he asked, visibly annoyed.

Of course, he didn’t. He was a wanted man, a criminal. He had assumed names, false identities … who knew how many bank accounts he had, and on which planets. All that mattered was that his money was good, the twelve hundred credits being withdrawn and added to your bosses' coffer.

“Sounds like the name of some nerfpoke from a cheesy holo—”

His glare shut you up; you handed him his card, having previously retrieved the slugthrower from off the floor on your way back out. You gazed at his hand as he plucked it from yours, thinking about the way those lithe fingers had been inside you, how you had felt every knuckle, how you would dream for years to come about this Duros, though he would most likely forget about you as soon as he departed from your shop.

You flinched as he once more snatched you by your collar like before, those same, agile fingers tightening around the cloth as he reeled you in, bringing you within mere centimeters of his face.

“Be in yer best interest naht te try and rip people off—next time, ye may just get pumped fulla lasers rather dhan gettin’ plugged.”

He kissed you roughly on the mouth; you felt the scrape of a tooth, its sharp point grazing your skin. It was more than you could have ever hoped for.

Then, he released you; he left you gasping for air. He seemed to have that effect on you. The idea that he was leaving was suddenly too much; unthinkable, even as he strapped the slugthrower across his back and tipped his brim.

Like an idiot, you called out to him as he made his way, taking him in one last time—the way his duster moved fluidly around him, the way his hat enshrouded him.

“Where are you going?” you asked, as if a jilted lover, as if you meant something, as if he might have the decency to tell you anything about his plans or about himself.

He turned on the heel of his boot, one arm lifting as his hand dug into the confines of his coat. He withdrew an object—cube-shaped, many-sided, and covered in intricate designs. You didn’t know what it was, but you thought it must be rare and beautiful, like him, and blue to boot.

In realty, it was a stolen Jedi holocron, filled with the names of all the galaxy’s up-and-coming Force-users, the future of the Jedi Order—and he had been paid to nick it from the Archives by one Darth Sidious.

Bane smirked as he deigned to answer to the likes of you.

“Devaron—got a Jedi te catch,” he snickered.  

Devaron … it was a planet not too far from here, within the Colonies, bordering your sector.

You thought to comment, but then he was gone, leaving behind what he had promised—a good story to tell your friends. God, what you wouldn’t give to go with him, out on some grand adventure—an almost childish fantasy you would harbor in your heart forever, much like the man named Bane.

… What a shame.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

pairing: poe dameron x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 1077

summary:

General Organa needed more skilled fighter pilots, and there was no one more skilled than Poe Dameron, former spice runner and current New Republic commander. With the General’s messages going unanswered, you’ve been sent in to engage Dameron. All you had to do was convince him to return with you to the Resistance base.

author’s note: posting this as a sign of life, as it’s the only thing i’ve managed to finish over the last month 💀 i’m still working on my many joel, din, and frankie ideas. i’m just slow - hope you can forgive me.

tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), able bodied reader, no physical descriptions for reader, no use of y/n, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, praise, pet names, uh kidnapping?

It was supposed to be a simple mission.

General Organa needed more skilled fighter pilots, and there was no one more skilled than Poe Dameron, former spice runner and current New Republic commander. With the General’s messages going unanswered, you’ve been sent in to engage Dameron. All you had to do was convince him to return with you to the Resistance base.

Where it got complicated was somewhere around drink two, when Poe slid his arm around your waist and your heart skipped a beat as you met his dark gaze. His full lips tilted up in a smile that said he knew exactly what you were thinking and you were long gone, mission temporarily forgotten as he leaned in close and pressed a trail of kisses across your neck.

Now you’re on your back in a cramped bunk, fingers tangled in Poe’s curly hair as he devours you like a starving man, tongue lavishing your clit with agonizing determination. A thick finger presses to your entrance, sliding in with little resistance as your back arches from the bed.

“Maker, you’re a mess,” Poe murmurs on a breath, head raised to watch you as he works a second finger into you, pressing deep and curling them against your front wall as he withdraws. His tan skin is shiny with your arousal and his hair is a mess and you want to say something back about how he’s not looking too put together right now himself but you can’t, not with the way his skilled hands are driving you to the brink.

A few swipes of his thumb across your clit is all it takes to make you shatter, the walls of your cunt squeeze his fingers as you come and come and come. Poe’s hand withdraws slowly and he presses your thighs apart, watching as you pulse around nothing and you whine at the loss.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he says, sitting up and working the belt of his flight pants loose. “Not finished yet.”

Poe shoves his pants down his thighs, only enough to expose his cock. He leans forward, elbows pressed into the mattress beside your head as he slides his length against your slick heat, brushing over your sensitive clit with each movement. His mouth finds yours and he kisses you deeply, his spicy scent and the earthy taste of your own release invading your senses as he does. The head of his cock catches against your entrance and he presses forward the slightest bit before pulling back again.

“Quit teasing,” you command, but your voice vibrates with need. He does it again, a little deeper this time, and again, a little deeper still.

“You can just say you want my cock,” he says, self-assured tone punctuated with a smirk. “Come on, say it.”

You stare up at him defiantly as he inches his hips forward, slowly, slowly, slowly. Your clenched jaw loosens, mouth dropping open on a gasp as he drags across a sensitive spot inside of you, and he stops, holding himself still inside of you. Despite all his arrogance, you can still see the way he’s fraying at the edges. It’s in the sheen of sweat on his brow, the way the muscles in his neck have gone taut, the crack of joints as his hands clench into tight fists on the bed.

“Fuck me, Poe,” you finally say.

And fuck you he does.

He sits up on his knees, your ass perched on his thighs and his hands holding tight to your hips as he slams deep, punching the air from your lungs. His pace is brutal, powerful, singular determination etched into his features as he uses your body for his own pleasure now.

Hi hands leave your hips to lean over you once more, one hand on the mattress by your head and the other pressing one of your legs up and to the side, opening you wide. His hips slow from a piston to a smooth wave, each deep slide of him making you moan his name.

“That’s it,” he groans, “Who’s making you feel this good, sweetheart, huh?”

“You, Poe,” you reply.

“That’s right.” He drops to his elbows again, pressed close against your body, thrusts morphing into a grind that keeps you full. He sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, soothes the ache with a kiss, and whispers how good you feel into your ear until you’re shaking, quietly begging for him to make you come again.

His hand slides between your bodies, fingers rubbing sloppy circles through the slick gathered on your skin. Another nip of his teeth sends you over the edge and he moans, deep and guttural against your neck as he fills you with a new warmth, cock pulsing as the waves of your own orgasm drag one from him.

You’re both panting, gasping for breath as you come down from your twin highs. Poe pulls out and turns over to land on the sliver of bed available between your body and the wall. He kicks his pants off into a pile at the foot of the bed and wraps an arm around your middle, pulling your body against his.

“Stay,” he mumbles against your neck, a kiss pressed behind your ear. You don’t respond, you don’t have to. He’s asleep within seconds, gentle snores filling the small bunk space.

When you’re certain he’s out cold, you slide out from beneath his arm and dress yourself. You try not to think too hard about how you’d like to crawl back into bed with him, not while you’re digging your comm unit from your pants.

Ready for extraction.

When Poe wakes up, the first thing he notices is that you’re not there.

The second thing he notices is that he’s not even in his own bunk.

He sits up, panic coursing through his veins. Where is he? Where are you? Are you alright? Is he—

“Commander Dameron,” your familiar voice says through a speaker. Poe looks up, finds you watching him from the other side of a transparisteel window. “You’re safe. You’re currently on a Resistance base in an undisclosed location.”

“How did—“

“You’re a very heavy sleeper, Commander. You should probably have a medic droid look into that for you,” you say, cutting off his question. “You’ve been brought here to speak with General Organa.”

Poe smirks. “Do they know how exactly you got me here, sweetheart?”

“It’s Captain, actually.”

All masterlists

[phoenixremix69]

There should've been a season of Korra where the White Lotus were the bad guys

The semi-secret society that controls a good chunk of the planet through social connections and traditions is 100% good? sure buddy

I mean, come on, they basically abducted Korra from her family for Avatar training at age 6 and had her locked up in a compound away from her loved ones and basically anyone even close to her age for like 12 years

They literally only let her out because she sucks at air bending because surprise surprise, the element of freedom doesn't exactly gel with being a child soldier

And what's the first thing she does when she gets to republic city? try to stop crime and join a pro sport that necessitates beating the crap out of people. And why? because the people who raised her for most of her life told her that she is the avatar and only the avatar. she is a tool of violence used to maintain peace and stability(the status quo) even when it would be more beneficial to change things(looking at you, you bear eating cunt, #JusticeforBosco) because to do otherwise would incite chaos

It practically writes itself

[italian-lit-tournament]

Italian literature tournament - First round.

Propaganda in support of the authors is accepted, you can write it both in the tag if reblog the poll (explaining maybe that is propaganda and you want to see posted) or in the comments. Every few days it will be recollected and posted here under the cut.

The propaganda here are in order from left to right, first Carlo Gozzi and then Guid Cavalcanti

Carlo Gozzi propaganda by @girlboccaccio

Do you like theatre? Do you like opera? Are you interested in commedia dell'arte? Do you like fables with dubious morales, fairy tales with dark hidden meanings, plays inspired by 16th morally ambiguous short tales and The thousand and one nights? If yes you should take two second and vote for Carlo Gozzi (yeah the funky guy in b/w on the left). Without him we couldn't have masterpieces like Puccini's Turandot and The Love for Three Oranges by Sergei Prokofiev. He was a great admirer of spanish literature and theatre. He defended commedia dell'arte and funky plays when this manners of making theatre were dying. Immaculate yeah? He wrote an autobiography named Useless Memories, truly cunty, right? He was a rate A+ hater when he decided to start shitting against the king of the new modern way of writing theatre, Carlo Goldoni. He died in a Country that stopped existing in the last decade of his life (The Not So Serene Republic Of Venice) and lost all his friends in exile. He was the bitch of the venetian intellectual life. He was the bitch of the coolest italian actresses of the time. He was friend with Francesco Algarotti, the loveboy of Frederich the Great.

Fella, if you love the 18th century, you have only one choice in you hand: vote Carlo Gozzi.

Propaganda in favor of Guido Cavalcanti by @eresia-catara

May I add further propaganda for Guido: He's a noble, he disdains aristocrats, he was Florence's number one Server of Cunt, he was the city's faggot, he was heretical, he went on a random pilgrimage but interrupted it and managed to be buried in a church anyway, he had an archenemy who sent some men to murder him on said pilgrimage, he came back and tried to murder him back in plain daylight, he gave zero fucks about politics, he got exiled because he was considered a menace for the city. He SAW DANTE's poetical talent, encouraged it, shaped it, and through him the whole of italian literature. Think about it. Also they became besties until they evolved to a tormented psychosexual haunting dynamic (see break-up poem) where Dante himself actually exiled him. In the 13th century his poetry anticipates so many of the literary themes of the XXth century, going from fragmentation of the self (his is basically vivisection and dispersion of his parts), to dissociation from one's own mind and body, lack of identity, irony, desecration, his poetry is full of schizophrenic-like hallucinations, reading them is truly a trip, and yet his language is profoundly meoldic and sweet. And there's also gender-fuckery. and theater, of course, because his poems develop like a scene from a theater (adding layers to the dissociation). So really he has it all guys.

Guido Cavalcanti propaganda by @girldante

GUIDO CAVALCANTI PROPAGANDA ABBIAMO:

LA DISSOCIAZIONE SCHIZOFRENICA:

IL COMICO, IL SIMPATICO BURLONE, IL MEMATORE ANTE LITTERAM:

IL MACABRO, IL GORE, I SINTOMI™

IL BREAKUP TOSSICO PASSIVO AGGRESSIVO CON DANTE

in conclusione

[sillygoosealert]

how about Smoke x Reader on their honeymoon?

Only one thing happens on honey moons.. sex

Only one thing happens on honey moons..٩(๑´3‘๑)۶

Tomas NSFW, AFAB reader, you were a dress for one sentence.

Muffled giggles and laughs can be heard as Tomas rolls around on your bed, with you trapped in his arms

You're in the Czech Republic- a sex hotel, in the Czech Republic

You both thought it be fun to try out something new

And what better time than now?

He doesn't get to see you nearly as often as he would like, he's a busy man

So when he can finally feel you up, he’s ecstatic

When he lays you on the bed he bites and sucks and kisses every part of your face he can

You giggle for him to stop- that it tickles but he only continues with a smile

His hands seem to make their way up your dress and takes it off

Then he just stares at your semi-nude body

‘What, is something wrong?’

‘No no, you’re just- really pretty’

You quirk your eyebrow

‘No just- I can't believe that you're letting me see you like this, I feel special’

‘You are special, to me’

He smiles at you while laying his head on your chest

You interlock hands and he starts to kiss your chest, sucking on your Breast slightly while mainly focusing on your nipples

He's grinding into you, rubbing himself on your inner thigh

He hurriedly takes off his pants while you finish taking off your panties

Then he cups your face while staring at you

‘Can I try something new?’

‘Okay..’

You're a bit hesitant and he knows, but he gives you a little slap on your thigh before placing his head in between them

He gives you a long lick up your cunt, feeling you grip his hair with your freehand

Going to your clit, he sucks on it and pops off with a loud noise

‘Was that good, did you like it?’

‘Yes Tomas, it felt good..’

He always makes sure you like what’s he doing- you enjoying how he makes you feel is one of the hottest things to him

He thinks you are wet enough for him, and he thinks he's ready to progress further

After spitting on your cunt, he lines himself up

Then he slowly slides in

‘You can move whenever you think you're ready’

He starts to hump into you, burying his head in your shoulder

You run your clit and hum into his hair, your other hand running along his back

He cups your face with one of his hands and kisses you roughly

Grunting into your mouth, he picks up the pace and whispers filthy things into your ear

You're both close and with a bite on your shoulder you both finish

‘I’m sorry about the bite baby, are you okay?’

‘It’s okay, I'm alright. Are you fine?’

He nods and very slowly peels off of you

Pulling you on top of him and wrapping his arms around you, the thought of another round or a bath is long forgotten

You are just enjoying each other, at peace with each other

You fall asleep, and what you do when you up doesn't matter as of now

Nothing matters, everything is still and you both are comfortable

Weak pull-out game fr 🎀

[griddlemybeloved]

DEMOCRATIC 🫏 DADDY DOWN 📢📣 JIMMY CARTER 👨‍🦳👅🥵 the 3️⃣9️⃣TH president OF THE United States of America 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸HAS stopped serving CUNT AT 💯 years old 💀🪦☠️ BEFORE HE was elected 🗳️⬆️ to the the ORAL OFFICE 🤤😈🫦, JIM served his CUNT-ry in the US NAVY ⚓️🚢🫡 & was a peaNUT 🥜👨🏼‍🌾 FARMER who learned the importance of a HARD DAYS AMERICAN WORK. 💪🏽😪💦🥵 POUR ONE OUT 🍻🍷🍹 as we remember 💭✊🏽 his 🔥SEXIEST DEEDS🔥like his HOE-bel peace PRIZE 🏆🥇🎖️FOR finding PEACEFUL SOLUTIONS ☮️✌🏽🕊️ to not-so-sexy INTERNATIONAL 🔫😳CONFLICTs 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

GOOD OLE JIMMY WAS THE ONLY US PRESIDENT TO LIVE TO 1️⃣0️⃣0️⃣ YEARS OLD 🐐😎🆒, so be like jimmy and DON’T BE A REPUBLI-cunt! 🐘💔🤬SEND THIS TO all of your dirtiest DEMS 💙🤍❤️ IF YOU GET 10 BACK jimmy’s Ghost 👻💀😵will PARDON YOU FROM YOUR PANTS 😏😻👀 (like he did all those NAUGHTY 😈😼Vietnam draft EVADERS🙏🏽🇻🇳🎉 ) GET 5️⃣ back and DADDY Biden Will give you a SPANK 🍑🤚🏻BUT GET ZERO🚫⛔️ BACK and YOULL spend A BLUE BALLS 🔵🔵 NIGHT with those SKANKS in the ERECT-oral COLLEGE 🍆 🏛🤢🤮

[xryin]

I like how the Star Wars fandom and its writers today have this notion where any Jedi has any actual power in the republic

It boggles the mind that the idea any peace was or is a lie because someone specifically wants to be a cunt or an asshole because they enjoy making people suffer no matter how annoying or normal to society as they can possibly be could ever be right

At the same time, those same Jedi are expected to solve every fundamental problem by taking dictatorial power and running roughshod over any actual freedoms. , if they do not address these issues, that they specifically said they are ill-equipped to deal with when their specific roots were humble origins as monks, they are either cowards or stupidly evil who are just in it for themselves.

Sometimes I wonder why or how do the people in that universe have all this technology if peace and generally not trying to be a asshole is a lie then

[xtruss]

The Shape-Shifting MAGA Hat! From An Expression of Intransigence To A Symbol of Triumph.

— March 25, 2025 | An Essay | Foreign Policy | By Megan DuBois

Andre Rucker Photo For Foreign Policy

On July 23, 2015, Just Over a Month Into His First Presidential Campaign, Donald Trump arrived in Laredo, Texas, to visit the southern U.S. border. It was hot, even for Texas, so Trump eschewed his standard suit and red tie for a cooler, more casual look: a jacket, button-down, khakis, golf shoes, and a hat.

“He came around the corner and we all went, ‘Oh!’” news anchor Dana Bash, who covered the event, recalled in a CNN article in 2017.

That day, Trump sported a white hat with his campaign slogan, Make America Great Again, in all caps and embroidered in navy blue. “I really remember it vividly because it was like, ‘Oh, of course, he’s the master marketer. Why wouldn’t he put it on a hat?’” Bash said.

It was the debut of the most polarizing accessory in recent history—that is, until the red-and-white version became available for purchase later that summer. In the tumultuous decade since then, the MAGA hat, as it’s become known, has evolved alongside Trumpism, from a fringe accessory to a universally recognized fashion statement. Along the way, as Trump has wrested control of the Republican Party, the MAGA hat has become a political force unto itself.

The original Make America Great Again hat worn by Donald Trump during a trip to Laredo, Texas, on July 23, 2015. Matthew Busch/Getty Images

No Outside Experts Were Consulted in the Design of the Iconic Red MAGA hat. Trump merely sampled a few fonts and colors before landing on winners. The choices were a bit obvious: red for Republicans, Times New Roman because it’s a default font.

But taken together, the hat represented a radical departure from the optimized political aesthetics of the time. Unlike most campaign merch, the hat was embroidered with a slogan instead of the name of the candidate. It wasn’t pegged to any particular year or election, which, in hindsight, feels like foreshadowing. It was un-designed, un-focus-grouped, lazy, loud. There were no tricks up Trump’s design sleeves.

The MAGA hat, like its creator, was initially written off by the media and political establishments. Many pundits were confounded by the fact that Trump’s campaign spent more on hats than polling in the early months of the race. A September 2015 New York Times article dismissed it as “the ironic must-have fashion accessory of the summer.” A June 2016 Esquire article posited that the hats “may well go down as the Trump campaign’s only lasting contribution to the political history of the Republic.”

But for many Americans, MAGA hats were a runaway hit. Soon enough, the official hats, whose purchase is legally considered a campaign contribution, were bringing in $80,000 every day—in effect covering most of the 2016 campaign’s overhead costs.

In those early days, the hat’s power lay primarily in its ability to offend, shock, and provoke. Some of its supporters seemed to take pride in the fact that, like its designer, the hat transgressed civilities and political correctness. For many of its opponents, however, the MAGA hat would forever be a visual euphemism for the racism, sexism, and xenophobia they saw Trump as championing.

Delegates wear MAGA hats during the Republican National Convention in Milwaukee on July 17, 2024. Jim Watson/AFP Via Getty Images

A Trump supporter wears an oversized MAGA hat as he waits for the start of a rally in Manchester, New Hampshire, on February 10, 2020. Drew Angerer/Getty Images

By the time Trump won in 2016, the hat had become so powerful that any resistance to his political agenda was insufficient without resistance to the hat itself. As Trump formalized his victory by adding a big, bold “45” detail to the hats, his opposition burned them at protests and knit pink pussyhats in droves to serve as an ideological counterweight.

During Trump’s first term, MAGA hats earned their reputation as a symbol of intimidation, worn by attenders of white nationalist rallies and school shooters alike. A controversial 2019 incident involving a white teenager in a MAGA hat filmed smirking at an Indigenous activist cemented the hat as the ultimate expression, depending on your perspective, of either empowerment or menace.

Just as Trump’s political ideology has changed and adapted as opportunity arises, so too has the hat. In Trump’s first term, the offerings expanded to include pink, rainbow, and even several different Halloween MAGA hats, as well as versions calling to make farmers and space great again. (This is to say nothing of the market for knockoffs, which has memeified the MAGA hat ad infinitum.)

In pursuit of a second term, the Trump campaign overhauled the MAGA hat into a bigger, louder, funhouse version of itself. The rectangular hats became taller overnight—square-shaped, with a stiffer, more structured face. A U.S. flag and “Trump 2020” were added on the side and back, respectively. While the original’s MAGA lettering was centered and proportionate to the size of the hat, on the new versions it was stretched to consume all available space, reading like a scream.

After Trump’s defeat in 2020, many wondered what would become of the hats. Typically, as reporter John Herrman noted at the time, when candidates lose, their merch is donated, recycled, or kept as keepsakes. “All of this relies, though, on the campaign actually coming to an end,” he wrote, before presciently asking: “What if it doesn’t?” Sure enough, as Trump supporters stormed the U.S. Capitol a few months later, MAGA hats littered the crowd.

During the interregnum that followed, the hats were an expression of intransigence among supporters, a message that four chaotic years of Trump’s rule had left their loyalties unchanged. Wearing MAGA hats also allowed Trump’s base to voice their support even as he made fewer headlines and public appearances.

In 2022, when Trump announced his intention to run again, he wasn’t wearing his signature hat. But at that point, he didn’t have to. The MAGA hat had taken on a life of its own.

His campaign went on to launch the “Little Red MAGA Hat,” a white hat decorated with an image of the classic red MAGA hat, styled almost like a museum exhibit. It was an indulgent piece of political merch; but for supporters, it paid homage to the hat’s symbolic evolution. Once an instrument of tribalism and trolling, it had become an object of respect, even reverence.

As the 2024 race heated up, the standard MAGA hat was reinvented once again with bold colors, an increased price tag, and “45-47” on the side—the hyphen implying, perhaps, that Trump never stopped being the legitimate president during Joe Biden’s supposedly stolen term.

U.S. Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene wears a triumphant variation of the hat during Trump’s speech to Congress on March 4. Allison Robbert/AFP Via Getty Images

Today, That “47” Is No Longer A Campaign Hope But Reality.

After his reelection, Trump’s success cannot continue to be seen as fringe or surprising; it’s mainstream. And as stigmas against Trumpism have softened, the MAGA hat has lost some of its shock factor. Though many on the left still have a Pavlovian aversion to it, the hat is no longer as universally taboo or transgressive as it once was. A Washington Post article from last November documented the uptick in MAGA hats in Democratic enclaves, where victorious Trump supporters “are feeling newly emboldened to wear their beliefs on their heads.”

In its first decade, the MAGA hat has shape-shifted from an instrument of provocation to one of intimidation, from an expression of intransigence now to one of triumph. It’s a reflection of the changed meaning of Trump’s own presidency—his shift from hostile insurgency to newfound hegemony. To wear a MAGA hat today feels more like bragging than before; it’s a trophy wielded with confidence by members of the winning team. The slogan on a newly released official hat—“Trump was right about everything!”—reflects as much.

The breakout hat of this era belongs to its breakout political actor: Elon Musk. His signature Dark MAGA hat has stripped many of the original’s most Trumpian features and reimagined them in a supervillain’s likeness. The classic red and white is now a sleek black and gray. Certain versions use a font that has been likened to one associated with Nazis. Sometimes, in lieu of “45-47,” the side of the hat says, “Never Surrender.”

The MAGA hat is an accessory to Musk’s political power in the truest sense of the word. Throughout history, one of the primary purposes of hats has been to shield the wearer from the elements. True to form, Musk uses the MAGA hat as political shelter under which he can pursue his own ambitions with a clear symbol of Trump’s blessing. The visual shortcut spares the Republican Party from difficult conversations about whether Musk’s actions align with its values or serve its long-term interests. So long as something is done under the guise of making America great again or the shadow of a hat that says as much, it is fit for purpose.

Trump throws MAGA-Esque Hats that read “Save America” into the crowd at a rally in Wilmington, North Carolina, on September 23, 2022. Allison Joyce/Getty Images

At 10 years old, the MAGA hat is more powerful and pervasive than ever before. Its iconography has transcended borders and become a symbol embraced by political movements and leaders far beyond the United States. Anyone hoping to ingratiate themselves with or oppose Trumpism has few options for doing so that don’t involve the hat. For instance, in late January, Ontario Premier Doug Ford’s defiant “Canada Is Not for Sale” hat went viral as a rebuttal against Trump’s antagonism.

But this playbook—hats as the answer to hats—is tried and tired. Biden’s anti-MAGA victory hat aged poorly. The Harris-Walz camo hat was the accessory of the summer, but it was not enough to compensate for an unpopular establishment candidate. Even the pussyhats, popping up at protests once again, feel less like an expression of resistance than a bleak reminder of the political problems that remain unsolved a decade later.

Trump’s opponents have yet to form any meaningful opposition to his second term of rule. For those interested in undertaking such a task, I’d recommend thinking bigger than a hat this time around.

A scarf, perhaps?

— Megan DuBois Is An Assistant Editor at Foreign Policy.

[currentfications]

Ocean Eyes | Part 3

Pairing: Bada Lee x Producer!Reader

Synopsis: Latrice bailed on you for dinner, but set you up for a date with Bada instead.

Warning: Swearing, Flirting, Legs

AN: Sorry for the late upload and shorter than expected chapter!! Still trying to get over Monday - will try to upload over the next few days. Thank you to everyone for following along~

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After finally getting the keys to your recording studio, you were overjoyed and decided to take Latrice out for celebratory dinner.

Y/N: Dinner’s on me make yourself available

Latrice: 🤨

Latrice: u tryna poison me again?

Y/N: It was one time Latrice get over it

Latrice: I don’t have comprehensive health insurance here I’m not risking it

Y/N: 🙄 I’m taking you out for dinner

Latrice: Keep talking

Y/N: THE STUDIO IS READYYYY 🤩

Y/N: And I don’t wanna drink alone

Latrice: Wait that’s actually good news I’m so happy for you ahhhh 🥰🥰🥰

Latrice: But still no

Y/N: What why what did I do?

Latrice: Nothing I am busy

Y/N: 🧐

Y/N: Busy?

Y/N: …

Y/N: Waitttttt a damn minute

Y/N: I want a name cunt who tf you linked up with

Y/N: HELLO??? MA’AM?

Y/N: Whatever happened to sharing is caring huh?

Latrice: 👉🏾👈🏾

Y/N: Oh god what have you done

Y/N: Tell me it’s not who I think it is you dumb fucking bitch 😇

Latrice: 🤭

Y/N: Ms. Kabamba 😇

Team BEBE was filming the last bit of reaction segments with Mnet while they were interrupted by a few raps on their door. “Come in!” Lusher greeted her co-captain dance mate in with a hug.

Latrice slowly poked her head through the door, “Hey Bada can I borrow you for a quick second?”

Bada looked up, confused, but walked over nonetheless. “Is everything alright?”

“Calling in a personal favour,” Latrice smiled nervously, “can you go on a dinner tonight?”

“Dinner? Sure!” The choreographer hummed and nodded excitedly, “BEBE with Jam Republic?”

“You and Y/N,” Latrice snickered, “I have a date and had to bail, but she’ll be much much kinder to me if you’d go in my place instead.”

Bada raised an eyebrow and pointed at herself. Perplexed, she sounded a little dumbfounded, “Me? Why?”

Latrice rolled her eyes at the obvious question, “She has a fat celebrity crush on you since she the first episode aired, that’s why. Now please, pretty please with a cherry on top, would you go in my place tonight so she don’t-” Latrice stopped dead as you decided you’ve had enough of her ignoring your text and started calling her instead. Her eyes widen slightly in fear as she turned to the taller dancer. “Bada please I’ll owe you one, I’m so so sorry-” she swiped and picked up your call, “heyyyy Y/N, I was just telling Bada about your dinner plan tonight. She’s super keen! Here you go-”

Latrice palmed the phone to the choreographer like a hot potato, mouthing ‘thank you’ at the blonde.

Dinner with Bada? The sentence hasn’t fully registered in your brain as you begun to rip your high school mate a new one. “Ms. Kabamba,” you uttered with the coldest tone you could muster, a tone that Latrice knows all too well. A tone you only take with her when she knows she’s done something stupid, again.

“Sorry to disappoint,” a familiar voice broke you out of your rant. “Ms. Lee here. I heard we have plans?”

Damnit that cunt, I’ll deal with her later. You quickly composed yourself, “Never a disappointment, love. Any dietary restrictions?” You tried to mitigate your hoarse voice (from screaming ‘CUNNNNTTTTTT’ right before Latrice picked up the phone) and previously harsh tone by being as sweet as possible with your word choice, knowing that phone call rarely - if ever - made you sound more personable.

Love? Your husky delivery had the tall dancer flustered, trying to hide a blush taking form on her cheeks. Bada gulped, hard, and stumbled over her words, “N-no, I’m not picky. Where and when?” She tried to pass it off as cool and nonchalant, but Lusher seemed to have picked up on her change in tone.

“I’ll pick you up when you finish for the day? Latrice gave me their schedule.” Bada hummed over the phone, you can almost see her cute head bop as she does. Okay, dinner with Bada. One-on-one. I can do this, no biggie, fuck. “See you then, Love.”

Latrice gave Bada a parting hug when the call was over, the latter still bewildered by the unexpected call. “Thank you so, so much. You’re a life saver. Have fun later!” She quickly shuffled out the room, shutting the door behind her.

Lusher peaked over the tall dancer’s shoulder, Bada’s cheeks still warm from the conversation. She gasped as the blonde slowly clasped her hands onto her face, letting out a small shriek. “Oh god Bada what was that all about?” The co-captain raised an eyebrow at her leader’s demeanour.

“Lusher, did you bring an extra outfit?” Was the first thing that came out of Bada’s mouth.

Y/N: You’re off the hook

Y/N: For now

Y/N: I will grill you afterwards 😇

Latrice: What a weird way to say thank u but ok

Latrice: ure welcome

When you pulled up in your bike, you did not expect the gorgeous specimen to be walking out the building in a skirt. You gulped and paused for a (significant) moment, marvelling at her (legs). Her hair sat perfectly, framing her face. She smiled and waved at you, walking (omg her legs) over with a small prance (her legs y’all). “Hey, thanks for picking me up.”

“God you look amazing.” After pulling yourself together, you realised a slight problem. “I am so sorry,” you quickly apologised, motioning her skirt (legs), “I did not plan accordingly.”

She chuckled and shook her head, “Don’t worry about these, tights underneath. My hair however, is a different story.”

Relieved, you handed her a helmet with a smile and hopped onto the bike, signalling her to get on. Bada giggled and straddled herself behind you, wrapping her hands around your waist. Both of you were suddenly very grateful for the helmets for keeping you road safe and hiding blushes. “You good?” You did one last check. Bada hummed and gave you a soft squeeze before you both rode off.

Tag list: @bada-lee-ily @lil-elliesgf