#Unprecedented corruption

[justbeingnamaste]

After many denials he would do so, Joe Biden granted his son Hunter Biden a blanket pardon in the federal gun and tax cases against him Sunday night. The pardon, which covers any federal crimes by Hunter from 2014 to 2024, ends a case that was blown open by IRS whistleblowers who spoke out after the Biden Justice Department slow-walked an investigation into Hunter, allowing the statute of limitations to pass on some charges and offering Hunter a sweetheart plea deal that was ultimately rejected by an incredulous federal judge in Delaware resulting in the appointment of a special counsel by Attorney General Merrick Garland in the case. Incredibly, Garland appointed the same federal prosecutor who sabotaged the Hunter case, Robert Weiss, to be special counsel.

The pardon absolves Hunter of any possible drug involvement, sex trafficking, lobbying, bribery, foreign agent or other crimes involving Ukraine and several other foreign governments or companies including China. The start date of 2014 coincides with the year Hunter joined the board of the Ukraine energy firm Burisma in an influence peddling scheme alleged to have involved Joe Biden.

[wonder-worker]

"The division between the two families [the Woodvilles and the Nevilles] and their allies can be seen in the royal charters that they witnessed. Warwick, Rivers and Archbishop Neville of York, while serving as chancellor and afterwards, were fairly constant witnesses to royal charters and consequently often appeared together. This was not, however, the case for other family members and friends. From 1466 to 1469, if Scales or Woodville associates like Sir John Fogge, John Lord Audley or Humphrey Lord Stafford of Southwick witnessed royal charters, then members of the Neville group, such as John Neville, earl of Northumberland, or John Lord Wenlock would not, and vice versa. Discounting the ubiquitous Warwick, Rivers and Archbishop Neville, of the twenty-four charters issued between February 1466 and June 1469, twelve were witnessed by men associated with the Woodvilles, eight by men associated with the Nevilles and two were witnessed by no member of either group beyond the two earls at their heads and the archbishop; only two charters, both from 1466, featured associates of both families.

Such striking segregation of witnesses suggests that something more than simple convenience or availability was at play. [...] The evidence of these witness lists does show the extent of the split between the two groups from early in Edward's reign and of the need for political society to work with that cleavage in the heart of the Yorkist regime."

— Theron Westervelt, "Royal charter witness lists and the politics of the reign of Edward IV"

*This is specifically applicable for Edward IV's first reign; in contrast, the charters in his second reign displayed a great deal of aristocratic and domestic unity and cohesion.

[somnoir]

Prodigal son beyond Time - part 2

Part 1 | Masterpost

Damian first met his great uncle Danyal when he is three years old. His mother says he's met him long ago, when he was but a babe with a memory too fuzzy to remember. But the man before him is his grandfather's favorite child. The son that scowls at his father as he cradled Damian in his arms.

"What have you done?" His uncle scowled, a gentle hand pressed against the back of Damian's head. "He's a child!"

"Danyal!"

"You weren't like this with me." Danyal spat, keeping Damian in his arms and pressing his lips towards his nephew's forehead. Damian notes how cold his uncle's skin felt like, but more welcoming than that of his grandfather's.

"Danyal, he is to be trained like a proper Al Ghul." Grandfather said, frowning at Danyal.

"You trained me like a proper Al Ghul when I was older than him!" Danyal immediately protested, "He's three!"

"Danyal—"

"Ukht, I understand that you wish the best for your son but this is not it." Danyal immediately said, looking apologetic for interrupting Talia, but went back to glaring at Ra's. "I've tried to tolerate the fact that you handle an assassin league, father but this? You taught me to be loyal to the family. You taught me to cherish the family, you're blood—why the fuck aren't you giving the others the same treatment you gave me?!"

"Because they are not you!"

Damian doesn't recall what truly happened that day, but he does remember how his uncle's eyes went from soft blues to the same shade that the Lazarus pits glowed.

Damian remembers everything going dark.

Damian grows up differently.

He continues on his training, but everything is kinder to him. The world is kinder when his uncle is home, having tea with grandfather and overseeing his training. Mother loves him and uncle Danyal the most, claiming that they are blessings to her life.

Grandfather is quieter nowadays, almost docile with his uncle around.

It's a little more peaceful. The assassin's continue to train, to fight. But their reign of terror fall upon those that are corrupt and destroying the world. It's one of the compromises uncle Danyal and grandfather have led too.

Damian grows up differently.

Damian's arrival to the Bats' lives was unprecedented and quite confusing. He was a child raised by assassins, a child raised to become the next leader of the league. But he was... Strange. Strange for that kind of standard. 

Damian was rather sociable, hostile but not downright murderous towards them. 

His uncle did make sure that he had friends in the league.

Ra's had been utterly ecstatic to find out that he had two more grandchildren while Talia was quite pleased to know that she had a niece and nephew. 

Damian had a pair of strange cousins who snuck him out of training to go watch the stars, often getting them scolded, but it was worth it. Dante was older than Damian by five years. He was what other would call an angsty teen with how he often rebelled against his father. Meanwhile, Janelle—preferebly Ellie—was only a year older than Damian himself. She was a mischievous person who made sure that everything around her was swallowed by her own chaos. So when he entered the manor, suddenly struck with the reality that he had multiple siblings instead of just one elder brother, Damian knew what to do. 

Murder was not the answer. 

But by the words of his gracious uncle and the wisdom of his excellent cousins: fight your siblings like a feral child but defend them by being even worse to others. 

So Damian's first act as Dick Grayson's younger brother was to bite him. 

The undead were restless, rising from their graves or haunting their own corpses. It wasn't something they usually dealt with, forced to call upon magicians. 

But even Constantine was bewildered by just how cursed Gotham's lands were. To bring back the dead. Jason was a miracle but this was like an abomination, a literal zombie. 

No one really knew how to properly deal with the dead...

Well...

"My uncle would be willing to provide his assistance in this matter." Damian piped up, examining the contained zombies from a safe distance. All eyes were quickly drawn to him, bewildered and questioning. 

"I hardly think that Dusan would be suitable for this." Bruce sighed. 

Damian scowled, "Not him. My grandfather's first-born is whom I speak off. He is knowledgeable in the occult arts of the dead." 

"Damian... Ra's Al Ghul only has one son." 

"Untrue. Grandfather's greatest pride was always my uncle. He is precious to grandfather and ensures that no one knows much off him. I expected you and Drake to be aware of the first born." 

Tim stiffened, "They weren't rumours?! Ra's actually has some cryptid son?" 

Bruce, who had heard of the old tales of the Demon head's beloved heir, had always thought they were stories to scare the assassins. He's never seen the man, nor has he found any evidence of him in the league. 

Jason finally started paying attention, "So the league's golden boy can help? Dami, I don't think Al Ghul will even let his favorite kid anywhere near us." 

"You underestimate my uncle's love for me."

"You met him?" Bruce quickly interjected. 

Jason shrugged, "He helped me out back then. Patched me up when the pit madness got worse and helped me manage it. But his face was usually covered and no one really knew his name."

"Aside from myself, grandfather, and my mother." 

Bruce frowned, "Nyssa and Dusan don't know their brother's name?" 

"Grandfather says that they do not have the privilege of knowing his name. Mother was the first of his other children to have met my uncle."

"And what about you? You won't give us his name?" 

Damian scowled, feeling rather displeased with his father's choice of words. "Names are powerful, father. My uncle taught me this when I was young." 

Constantine narrowed his eyes, "You're uncle some kind of fae, kid?" 

"Watch your mouth, hellblazer. He does not like you." Damian hissed, having heard all his uncle's rants about the Laughing Magician, especially whenever he'd just randomly pick up Talia and walk around Nanda Parbat like she was a kitten rather than a deadly assassin. "But I shall call upon my great uncle and ask him for assistance. This matter with the undead shall surely pique his interest."

"Tell the old man I said hi!" Jason cheerfully added, sounding quite pleased to hear about the mysterious uncle. 

"No." Damian blatantly denied. As much as he loves Todd (and he will never admit that), he was not going to let anyone threaten his status as his uncle's favorite child. Over his dead body. 

Damian was quick to walk away from all of them, quickly retrieving all the materials he'd need to summon his uncle. Dark green paint for the summing circle, five candles, and an astrology book. 

"Bats... Why the hell is your son performing a summoning ritual? For a ghost of the realms too." Constantine's tone was strained, clearly disturbed and wary of Damian's actions. 

"Damian." Bruce warned but Damian just waved him off. He watched as Jason started lighting up the candles, humming an unfamiliar tune. 

"D'you think the old man will help us?" 

"Of course! Uncle adores me." 

"You think he'll give me his name?"

"I will gut you, Todd." Damian immediately responded with the most nonchalant tone he could ever give. 

Jason shrugged, before taking a step back. 

"Damian! Whatever you're summoning—" 

"I'm summoning my uncle, father. He's the best person to go to with these issues." Damian insisted, before muttering something unintelligible under his breath.

Bruce was startled when Constantine grabbed him, eyes wide and rapidly turning pale. "Why the hell does your son know how to speak the language of the—"

Fire burst forth from the circle, slowly morphing into an icy blast. 

"Dead." Constantine's breath hitched, "Holy shit, your brat just summoned the ghost king." 

Bruce grabbed Damian the moment a hand emerged from the blast of cold. He shoved his on behind him, suddenly feeling frightened as his entire body felt goosebumps. Fuck. Did Damian really just perform a summoning ritual for such a powerful being? He never expected for Ra's to brainwash his son into believing that such a powerful thing—

"Nephew!" 

Bruce blinked, suddenly blinded by the light. 

"Uncle!" Damian escaped from his grasp, rushing into the circle. Constantine practically screamed once Damian ran into the arms of what was supposedly his uncle and the ghost king. 

In front of Bruce was the most gorgeous man he's ever met. 

The floating hair that reminded him of snow and the green eyes that were purer than the Lazarus pits. He couldn't help but swallow thickly, blinking. Damian was held up by the ghost king, allowing the boy to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. 

"Hello, dami (my blood)." The king cooed, his pronunciation of the nickname much different from the shortened version of Damian's name. "I was not expecting you to call me. What's happened, my dear?" 

Damian hummed, but before he could speak, he was immediately interrupted.

"Long time no see, old man!" Jason yelled, waving his arm as if he wasn't in the same room as the king. 

"Jason! Hello! How are you? The corrupted ecto hasn't returned, has it? If it has, just tell me. I'll schedule a check up with Frostbite." The king quickly fussed, not minding the way Damian was baring his teeth at Jason. "Damian, behave!" 

Damian just seemed to whine, refusing to behave and opting to pestering the king. 

"I'm good, uncle. Haven't gone out crazy since you took me to the doctor." Jason smiled, already ripping of his domino mask to show that his eyes were green tinged with blue, not glowing green like the pits. 

"Good, good. But I really must know why I've been called." The king softly said, directing his words to Damian who was already trying to wriggle our his grasp. Gently, the king settled Damian back on his feet. 

"Right. Uncle, my father, Batman. Father, this is my uncle." Damian introduced, his tone hurried and a bit hesitant. 

The king, Damian's uncle, smiled at Bruce. "Hello there, Mr. Wayne. I've wanted to meet you for a long time." The king hummed, "My name's Danny, but the Al Ghuls call me Danyal." 

"Uncle!" 

"Hush, hush, Damian. I can give my name to anyone I want. I don't suppose that your father is worthy of it."

Bruce really should be more concerned about the fact that the king knew his name. 

"But what of the others?" 

"Little one, I sent Nyssa and Dusan letters ages ago. But rest assured, dearest Talia is still the first to earn it." Danny—Danyal—the ghost king softly spoke and patted Damian's head. "And... Oh, it's you."

"Your majesty!" Constantine enthusiastically greeted while Danny scowled. 

"Tax evading bastard." Danny huffed, shaking his head before promptly ignoring the tax evading bastard in question. 

"Damian." 

"The dead are rising."

Danny blinked, blinked again, before he groaned and shook his head. 

"Okay, sorry. That seemed to be caused by an error on my side. Some prisoners of my realms started a riot and some of them managed to break out. Some have most likely decided to overshadow their old bodies." Danny sighed, "I'll have this taken care of. Apologies for the inconveniences."

"These... Zombies have been wrecking havoc across my city." Bruce frowned, "They've been harming people."

"Vengeful spirits do that. They're criminals meant to be in prison. It's rare for breakouts to happen, in all honesty." Danny paused, just long enough to run his fingers through Damian's hair. "But if you wish to take charge, by all means. These are corpses being possessed by their own spirits and... Well... They're out of their minds. Not really considered revenants since the possession isn't quite permanent." 

"Alright, Bats. We've gotta make a proper deal here. His Majesty was summoned so we've gotta offer him something—" 

"That's not necessary." Danny immediately waved Constantine away, evident displeasure from the man. "The sigil I gave Damian was just to call me to him. No need for an exchange."

"Seriously?" Constantine blurted out. 

Danny just shrugged, "He's family. And my favorite nephew." 

Damian smirked, absolutely smug. "I am your only nephew, uncle."

"Mm... Jason's also my nephew." Danny chuckled softly, easily stepping out of the circle and removing it from the floor—leaving not a single stain. "Now... Shall we deal with the dead?" 

Bruce Wayne has made many bad decisions in his life, especially when it came to his relationships. Damian's ghost king of an uncle might be one of them.

Masterpost

[porterdavis]

I'm going to post the entire dispatch in hopes more people will read it. It's a stylized version of how US media would cover events in America if they were happening in a foreign country. Chilling.

(Written by Garrett Graff)

-----

Musk Junta Seizes Key Governmental Offices February 1, 2025 By William Boot

WASHINGTON, D.C. — What started Thursday as a political purge of the internal security services accelerated Friday into a full-blown coup, as elite technical units aligned with media oligarch Elon Musk moved to seize key systems at the national treasury, block outside access to��federal personnel records, and take offline governmental communication networks.

With rapidity that has stunned even longtime political observers, forces loyal to Musk’s junta have established him as the all-but undisputed unelected head of government in just a matter of days, unwinding the longtime democracy’s constitutional system and its proud nearly 250-year-old tradition of the rule of law. Having secured themselves in key ministries and in a building adjacent to the presidential office complex, Musk’s forces have begun issuing directives to civil service workers and forcing the resignation of officials deemed insufficiently loyal, like the head of the country’s aviation authority.

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The G-7 country’s newly installed president, a mid-level oligarch named Donald Trump, appeared amid Musk’s moves to be increasingly merely a figurehead head of state. Trump is a convicted felon with a long record of family corruption and returned in power in late January after a four-year interlude promising retribution and retaliation against foreign opponents and a domestic “Deep State.” He had been charged with attempting to overthrow the peaceful transition of power that had previously removed him from office in 2021, but loyalist elements in the judiciary successfully blocked his prosecution and incarceration, easing his return to power.

Over the last two weeks, loyalist presidential factions and Musk-backed teams have launched sweeping, illegal Stalin-esque purges of the national police forces and prosecutors, as well as offices known as inspectors-general, who are typically responsible for investigating government corruption. While official numbers of the unprecedented ousters were kept secret, rumors swirled in the capital that the scores of career officials affected by the initial purges could rise into the thousands as political commissars continued to assess the backgrounds of members of the police forces. 

The mentally declining and aging head of state, who has long embraced conspiracist thinking, spent much of the week railing in bizarre public remarks against the country’s oppressed racial and ethnic minorities, whom he blamed without evidence for causing a deadly plane crash across the river from the presidential mansion. Unfounded racist attacks on those minorities have been a key foundation of Trump’s unpredicted rise to political power from a career as a real estate magnate and reality TV host and date back to his first announcement that he would seek the presidency in 2015, when he railed against “rapists” being sent into the country from its southern neighbor.

In one of his first moves upon returning to the presidency, he mobilized far-right paramilitary security forces to begin raids at churches, schools, and workplaces to identify and remove racial minorities, including those who had long lived in harmony with the country’s white Christian majority. He also immediately moved to release from prison some 1,500 supporters who had participated in his unsuccessful 2021 insurrection, including members of violent far-right militias who promptly upon release swore fealty to him in any future civil unrest. Elsewhere, even as he released violent criminals onto the streets, Trump by fiat pulled longstanding government security protection from former military and health officials he felt had betrayed him.

Underscoring his apparent disconnection from reality, reports surfaced that the president had ordered military forces to unleash an environmental catastrophe and flood regions of a separatist province known as California that is led by a high-profile political opponent. The order underscored how the military, which had resisted Trump’s unconstitutional power grabs in his first administration, was now led by a subservient defense minister, a favored TV personality with no experience in management who faced an embarrassing series of allegations about his drunken behavior in the workplace.

Foreign allies who had long aligned themselves with the United States on the international stage were unsettled by increasingly destabilizing nationalistic and imperialist rhetoric coming from the president’s social media accounts—largely posted to a network owned and run by Trump himself—and worried in private conversations in capital embassies that he would mobilize the compliant military to fulfill heretofore unimaginable territorial ambitions that included seizing the country’s northern neighbor, which shares the world’s longest undefended border, and potentially colonizing Panama and Greenland.

Both the country’s defense minister, who has previously said he does not believe women should be allowed to serve in combat roles, and Trump’s new interior minister, who appeared on national TV wearing the paramilitary uniform of the border security force central to Trump’s political rise, spent much of their first days echoing and amplifying the president’s hysteria about racial and ethnic minorities. They and other government officials also immediately canceled all official observances of religious and ethnic minority holidays and launched efforts to scrub official websites and prohibit educating workers or schoolchildren about those minorities’ long, proud history in the country. Overnight Friday, hours after journalists had gone home, the defense minister’s office announced it would bar establishment independent media outlets from working out of the country’s military headquarters and replace them with friendly right-wing media organs.

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The administration’s propaganda minister also announced Friday, apparently with little preparation, that it would initiate an immediate, unexpected, and seemingly ill-considered trade war with the country’s two primary economic partners, a move that if implemented would upend the national economy, disrupt supply chains, and accelerate the return of an inflationary crisis that has roiled domestic politics over the last five years and had just seemed to be returning to normal. Ironically, it was that very inflationary crisis and Trump’s promises on the campaign trail to lower the price of eggs that paved the way for his unforeseen election victory in November.

The country’s other business oligarchs have watched Musk’s unexpected and rapid rise to power with trepidation, and leading media and technology companies who compete with Musk’s extensive business empire—like Meta, Amazon, Disney, Paramount, Apple, and OpenAI—have quickly lined up to negotiate and pay bribes to the president that would allow their companies to operate unimpeded; initial payment terms ranged from million-dollar gifts to the presidential inauguration to $15 million and $25 million payments, made by Disney and Meta, to fund the construction of a presidential shrine. The highest known payment was $40 million from Amazon, which was structured as a gift to the president’s wife in exchange for the media company having the opportunity to film a hagiographic biopic.

It was unclear, exactly, what deal terms any of those bribes and payments unlocked and when subsequent tribute payments would be expected, although on Saturday Trump moved to fire and neuter government watchdogs that had long bedeviled the country’s financial elite.

Throughout the week’s fast-moving seizure of power—one that seems increasingly irreversible by the hour—neither loyalist nor opposition parliamentary leaders raised meaningful objection to the new regime or the unraveling of the country’s constitutional system of checks and balances. A few members of the geriatric legislature body offered scattered social media posts condemning the move, but parliament — where both houses are controlled by so-called “MAGA” members handpicked for their loyalty to the president — went home early for the weekend even as Musk’s forces spread through the capital streets.

It was unclear what role, if any, Musk’s forces would allow parliament to have in the new governmental structure by the time it next returned to the national assembly known as Capitol Hill.

[thalwri]

TEACH ME SIR! pt. ii

part i!

STARRING: art professor!rafayel x art student!reader

synopsis: after the supply closet incident, finishing your final assignment wasn’t easy. but at least you reaped a good reward in the end.

warnings: porn with plot, all characters are aged up (and in university), fem!masturbation, listening to an unintentional sex tape, overstimulation, public sex, beach sex, fingering, oral (m!rec), body worship, dirty talk, pussy slapping (once!), cum eating (technically), creampies, underwater sex, overstimulation (again).

wc: 8,7k

a/n: forgive the delay, uni has been at my neck these past few weeks so i wanted to take the time to make this really good for you guys. hope you enjoy part 2!

MINORS DON'T INTERACT!

you hadn’t slept. 

not because of the final practical you had to hand over in three days time, not because of the submissions you’ve already see (which were phenomenal), but because of him.

your hands were stained with dried clay– you’d made countless attempts to wash it off and try again until you realised it was too futile. you’d end up thinking about rafayel again.

you’d end up thinking about what happened in the supply room two days ago.

every. single. fucking. time.

your mind was clouded in a buzz. your body was vibrating. your hands were shaking. you couldn’t even will yourself to touch the clay in fear that you’d mess up the progress you had already put countless hours into. 

you had mastered– you had hoped you did– rafayel’s face almost to the exact image of him. from the shape of his lips, to the height of his jawline, to the moles you indented into his face, everything.

and that just made it so much worse.

you could see him blushing before he kissed you. his eyes slowly rising to meet your gaze. the unmistakable lust that choked up that cramped room to the point where you could only smell each other. 

you had wanted him. and you failed to force that desire down your throat. in fact, it just sunk down to your pussy and pooled there waiting for him to consume you.

and he almost did. he was so close. his lips pulled at your now wet underwear, teasing your clit with his drooling tongue as if a mere piece of fabric meant nothing to his desire to taste you. 

his cock was rock hard. his body was like a fire. his voice was hypnotic. but the memory wasn’t enough.

fumbling through your phone with your nerves trembling right to your fingers, you found the voice note you had recorded. you had forgotten it was still ongoing even after rafayel had left. you were left in shambles, panting and huffing out moans of shock and despair. you needed more of him. 

your finger hesitantly hovered above the button to play the audio. what were you thinking? it was wrong. not only was it illegal considering you were going to use it as blackmail, it was corrupted with the most lewd experience you had gone through to date. none of your previous lovers could contest the impact rafayel left on you.

the effect he had on your mind. you couldn’t let it remain a memory.

without another doubtful thought, you quickly tapped the screen and pushed your phone away from you. his voice immediately flowed into your ears through the earphones, silencing every other noise in the private studio.

“where were you?”

your eyes fluttered shut, visualising the state he was in. shirt unbuttoned, chest heaving up and down, veins pulsating from his forearms to his wrists. his voice had a rasp to it, roughening out each syllable with unprecedented anger. almost like he missed you and your absence pissed him off.

your voices clashed in argument in the playback, waves of spiteful satisfaction resonated in you. at least you reminded him that you still had the backbone to fight back. then the pause came in, slowly raising your pulse. you could feel the tension rising as if you were witnessing it for the first time.

“you think i’m pretty?”

your legs pressed together, thighs rubbing almost instantly. you couldn’t fold that easily. you had already lost your grip. you couldn’t do it again. you felt for the edge of the table and gripped on it hard, afraid that if you moved your hands would fly to tend to your sobbing pussy.

“say it again.”

you almost did too. jolts of unanswered arousal pooled from your core all the way up to your throat. a gust of air was caught in your throat, your chest began to tighten. it was becoming too much to hold yourself. but you had to. just a little longer.

he laughed right down to your heart. his lips drew in a slow, deliberate breath before his next words came in a sultry whisper. “say it.”

“make me.”

you groaned into your hand, so vividly seeing the remnants of your sinful interaction you wouldn’t be surprised if that alone made you cum.

sounds of your lips colliding with sharp breaths shot shivers down your spine like a bullet. a soft moan escaped your lips, the rubbing of your thighs stimulating your clit ceased to allow your legs to spread wide open as you leaned back on your chair.

your hand crept down to the hem of your skirt, lifting it up to grant you access to your heated core. your fingers tenderly brushed over your sensitive bud and instantly brought out a pleasured response from it. your wetness somehow leaked from you even more just from a single touch.

the hushed breaths, wet kisses and soft moans filled your ears just like how you’d idealised his cum stuffing your needy pussy. your fingers delicately wandered around your swollen clit and eventually pressed down over the hood, rubbing it in cruel circles.

you sucked in your gasp as you fell deeper and deeper into the memory accompanied by the audible reminder of your mischief yet justified vice. your back curved into an arch, fingers rubbing faster and faster until your poor cunt was squelching from neglect and completely overwhelmed by your wetness that it soaked past your clothing onto the chair beneath you.

shudders and shivers brought your body to a shameless tremble– your legs pounced on the leg of the chair, struggling to maintain what drop was left of your composure. the joint melody of your moans and his lips smacking your skin sent you into a drunken frenzy. 

you could still taste him in your mouth, you could still feel his hands all over your body ghosting your skin in a layer of unabashed desire. 

“want to eat you,” his voice whispered. “taste you.” fucking hell, you were gone. a loud cry slipped out of your lips as your fingers finally answered your body’s call and plunged right into your pussy.

your lips curved into a ferocious grin, your fingers wasted no time to cruelly curve and push deeper and deeper into you. your gummy walls clenched around your fingers but it didn’t feel the same. it couldn’t resemble what he could do. how deep rafayel’s could go. 

how much deeper it could have gone.

you leaned back on your chair to give your hands more access to your weeping hole. you were so warm and wet– it’s no wonder rafayel lost his mind so quickly. your fingers slowly pumped deeper and deeper into you as far as they could go. one more slipped in, stretching you wider and a pitched whimper broke the silence in the studio. your pussy squelched and cried in arousal, practically begging you to move faster. 

but your sick mind couldn’t help but relish in the thought of holding yourself back just enough for your legs to twitch and shake. 

the audio had long ended and continued in an endless loop, repeating the hushed whispers, his laughs, the wet smacks of your lips, the amalgam of your lewd noises… fuck. 

again and again, your body shook at the precipice of your climax and yet you held back, keeping your wits sharp and your sensitivity even sharper. your fingers curled and thrusted deep into your cunny as far as it could. usually it was enough to push you over but ever since rafayel? your fingers were null and void compared to those smooth, rude fingers.

your legs spread wide apart, back arching to the overwhelming stimulation, moans literally hitching into slutty whimpers. the shadows of his touch burned your flesh driving you half insane. 

“f-fuck–“ the way his clothed length pressed against you, hard and hot was so deliciously sexy you couldn’t help but imagine how he’d feel inside you. 

first in your salivating mouth, still hot and intoxicated in his taste, so you could taste his cum shoot right down your throat. then all over your chest and face after he fucked your tits. then slowly and eventually deep inside you, stuffing you to the absolute brim. 

your head tilted far back over the chair as the pleasure bundled itself like a bursting supernova, throwing you into an endless abyss for you to drown and relish in the memory of his touch. the memory of his taste. the memory of your desire for him. 

waves of ebbing pleasure vibrated into your bones. but it wasn’t enough. 

you rocked your hips slowly against your palm, shivering from the aftershocks of your recent orgasm, needy for a special someone’s touch to replace your own. disrespectful, lewd, arousing whispers of his voice laced with your own ran into your ears in a continuous loop. you could listen to that damned audio for days.

your fingers dipped in and out of your soaked cunny, spreading your folds to feel how truly wet you were– and fuck damn. you were so sensitive to the touch and yet so desperate for more. 

you twitched, shook, and whined all in the midst of grinding yourself over your hand. you were making a mess, dripping all over the chair and your clothes but you couldn’t care less. you were so overindulged that you’d even stopped holding your noises back. 

his voice– his damned voice– begging to taste you, his fingers pressing so deep into you, his lips suckling at your bud– it was all too much on top of how sensitive you were. 

“need–“ your moans swirled into loud, whiny sighs as you drew closer to your edge. “need it–“

your hands trembled at the sight of the sculpting tool before you. no. you wouldn’t. you couldn’t. 

but you needed to. you needed it. your poor pussy was practically begging for more and who would you be to deny yourself of the pleasure you deserved? 

you gripped the handle of the tool and settled it neatly between your legs, ensuring the barrier of your wet panties protected you from the tool. your hips rocked back and forth over it, both cold and hard, ensuring it abused the life out of your swollen bud.

it was almost as thick as him but just as hard. you clamped your hand over your mouth, whimpers getting louder the faster you moved. his name slipped out of your lips in a devastated moan followed by rambles laced with unabashed filth.

“wish it was you,” you could feel the muscles in your neck constrict and strain the further you arched back. “wish it was you– fuck!”

it had gotten so noisy. all that wet slick noise that squelched right from your core had gone straight into your head. the recording had turned into white noise and your only interest was bringing yourself to your climax once more. 

you hated how you were making such a mess over him. you hated how you were getting so wet over the sound of him just seconds from fully eating you out, fully devouring you. and yet you loved it more than anything in the world. 

you swiftly pulled the tool up and huffed out a shaky moan just from the sight of how soaked it was– just from you grinding on it. your fingers tugged your panties aside and plunged deep inside you once more, not wasting time for you to lose your edge. 

your shaking hands dragged the handle of the sculpting tool up your body and nestled between your open cleavage, painting your lewd nectar all over your flesh. it was so sticky, so debaucherous, and so damn good that you couldn’t help but giggle at how fundamentally wrong it was. 

“fuck– please, oh god, please!” your lip caught itself between your teeth, your body unable to handle the overwhelming pleasure you were torturing yourself with. but you couldn’t stop and you didn’t want to.

the table shook from how tight your grip was, practically vibrating from how hard you rolled your hips into your hand. your skin was hot and sticky. the room was thick with your breathy, slutty moans and the noises your fingers expertly pulled out of your cunny. just one more push and–

as if it were divine timing, rafayel’s muffled moan broke you out of trance, absolutely breaking you. 

your nails clawed into the wood. your eyes rolled back. a hoarse cry ripped straight out of your throat and your body crumbled down, orgasm so intense that you collapsed right onto the table, body trembling, lungs gasping for air.

you glanced down to your hand and chuckled. wrinkled and soaked in your cream, you brought it to your lips to taste what had driven rafayel so mad. you felt manic. all that from a kiss and a little more. 

you expected the feeling of shame to kick in. but it didn’t. if anything, you felt pride. pride that you were the only one to have touched him, kissed him. the only one to have driven him to the point of tasting you. 

the mixture of sighs and nips came to a halt as you pulled your headphones off to analyse your crime scene. your chair was dripping, that clay sculpting tool was drenched, your heart was pounding. and the sculpture before you serenely stared at your disheveled state, almost like he relished in watching you fall apart.

oh, you were fucked.

and zayne could tell.

sitting in your usual spot barely an hour later, you were an absolute mess. shaking, stuttering and nervous at the mention of rafayel’s name. you had tried to maintain composure or at least give a front of being unbothered but your body literally decided to fuck you over.

“every time i say his name you shiver.” zayne deadpanned, stabbing into yet another cake slice with his fork. 

goosebumps coated your skin like a layer of fur. you felt like it was about to start snowing based off how violently you were shaking. almost like your body was screaming for you to attack your pussy with your fingers again. “no i don’t.”

“oh really?”

you slowly nodded with a forced grin. 

“rafayel.” and a sharp jolt ran down your spine, this time pulling a whimper out of you. his eyes slowly narrowed before widening in realisation. “oh my god, did you have sex with your professor?”

“no!” if oral sex counts… 

“so you did fuck him.”

“not exactly!” you conceded, burying your face in your hands. what better way was there for you to explain it other than saying ‘oh, it turns out he’s actually interested in me and probably finds me hot because he kind of ate me out’?

you could just make him listen to the audio– but you couldn’t. you didn’t know if you were under the influence of selfishness but it felt too sacred. too personal. and even though zayne has seen and heard a lot from you (mostly against his will), this was something you weren’t fully willing to share.

but he knew everything about you, hell, he’d accidentally found you using your vibrator (the only way to reimburse him was to send him a text or keep a note on your door and to buy him desserts for three months). but that recording? no. not that.

so instead, you gave him a watered down summary but did not spare any details just to spite him a little. by the time you were done, his decadent cake was long abandoned, replaced with a look of great disdain.

“while i’m eating my cake.” he grumbled, scowling at the dessert in reminiscence but he knew his appetite would not grant him the pleasure of eating more. he slowly leaned back into his seat, pushing the plate as far as his arm could reach. 

“so you’re telling me your professor dragged you into a supply room to ask why you weren’t in lectures and he ended up eating you out?”

hands still covering your face, you nodded. 

“well, you’re not going to handle your lecture if you keep shivering just from hearing his name.” 

“do you think i don’t know that?!” to make matters worse, you had an upcoming lecture that you had originally intended to go to. it would be like a revision lecture, filled with tips and advice to assist you before you had to submit your final assignment.

you were planning to go. were. and then that psycho ate you out.

“do you think you’ll be fine to sit there?” zayne poked your hand, voice laced with concern. honestly you didn’t know. maybe you could sit in the back of the lecture hall so that way he wouldn’t see you. or maybe on the last seat in the row so you had an easy escape. 

“stop overthinking.” your best friend’s voice snapped you right out of your daze. “if you think you’ll be fine, start going. if not, i’ll come with you–“

“no, nope!” you shot up to your feet, deliberately ignoring the rush of blood leaving your head. you were falling into a daze of dizziness– but not like how rafayel’s fingers did– fuck. “i’ll see you later, yeah?”

“unless you actually fuck him this time.” zayne muttered just loud enough for you to hear as your rushed off.

“choke!”

all you had to do to survive the next forty-five minutes was to rawdog it. just take everything that would be thrown at you and bite back hard. shouldn’t be that bad right? 

wrong.

the fucking asshole ignored you. he didn’t even look at you as you walked in. he was occupied with some of the maintenance staff carrying sculptures into the lecture hall. was he going to do a presentation to praise the makers?

as you walked to the nearest vacant seat, you had heard snickers. not a lot, but enough to know that some people still remembered what had happened. 

“rawdog, rawdog, rawdog.” you muttered under your breath, glancing at the table in the front of the hall. that wasn’t there before. just what was he planning?

just as he turned to face your class, all noise instantly fell to silence. but not like it usually did. something about his demeanour seemed a bit different. more crude. rafayel stared in four specific directions for long, without blinking or uttering a single word. his face was blank. and that was what made it terrifying.

“usually, these revision lectures come with written notes,” his stupid bioluminescent eyes glanced down at the four statues before him, scanning each detail noting its perfections and marking its imperfections. “but i believe a demonstration would do far better. especially with these finalised sculptures that were submitted early.”

he walked to the furthest sculpture, made of clay that was still slightly wet. it depicted the head of a lion– its details designed almost expertly. your skin prickled in the heat of envy. of course he would brandish the best works in the class. of course he’d act the same.

crack!

the sound was like punching drying mud. still slightly wet but dry enough to sound painful. 

the lion’s head was deformed, ruined and defiled by rafayel’s hand without a pinch of remorse on his face. a horrified cry erupted behind you following by choked sobs. you glanced over your shoulder to see one of the girls that bullied you crying into her hands. as much as you wanted to feel bad, you just couldn’t.

“that one was still dry.” he nonchalantly shrugged, wiping the excess clay on the edge of the table as if it were sludge. “don’t submit your work if it’s unfinished. that includes the clay not being fully dry.” 

he gracefully glided to the next, picking up a very heavy hammer. he tossed it into the air, watching it quickly plummet down landing directly on the sculpture beneath it. that one had fully dried. shards of dried clay flew as far as the first row of students, resulting in a flurry of screams. 

“that one was just ugly.”

the third he had pushed off the table to meet its end with a crash!

“boring.”

the last sculpture remaining stood as the most beautiful. it looked as though hours of sleep were lost to craft it, delicately held and carved and made with something deep. not love. desire. rafayel stared at the sculpture, lazily scrutinising each part. he held up a jug of clear liquid and poured it all over the sculpture until it was drenched completely. 

he picked up a box of matches. gasps and murmurs slowly arose. your eyes widened. 

he pulled out a match and dragged it across the sandpaper to set it alight. gasps turned into screams. your hand raised up to your lips in disbelief but never quite reached its destination. 

it was almost as if time had slowed. those purple-blue eyes slowly blinked as his gaze reached up directly to yours. and the match fell, slowly gliding down to the head of the statue, engulfing it in divine flames. divine vengeance.

he kept his word.

a loud scream sounded across the lecture hall, the only noise made in the otherwise silenced hall. the shock had silenced you. and yet his eyes– his eyes were now blue. like the flames drowned out the regal poise and gentleness in him and left only the cold cruelty behind.

it scared you. and it made your thighs press tightly together. it made your breath hitch. warmth almost as hot as the flames pooled in your core, only amplified by his gaze on you. your fingers twitched intuitively, almost like an urge to reach out to him. as if his eyes were a silent song calling to you.

he kept his word.

“i do not tolerate bullying in this class.” rafayel reluctantly pulled his gaze away from you to glare at the four culprits.

it did not take long for him to figure out who had destroyed your trial sculpture. with a bit of bribery and pushing up marks, it took him less than a day. it took a lot of self restraint for him to not attack them the moment he found out.

but he knew that this would be more satisfactory. their devastation and humiliation. your shock and relief. 

he couldn’t help himself. he just needed to avenge you. to see you happy. to have you in his presence again. you were dragging him deep into your abyss, singing to him, alluring him, drowning him– and he was more than happy to drown with you.

and if that meant showing you just how far he was willing to go, then so be it.

“you will not be passing this class under my guidance, and by extension will not complete this degree to graduate with your classmates.” devastated sobs were the only response. 

“to the rest of you, those are the ‘tips’ you need to keep in mind if you want to pass your final assignment.” and with that, he stalked out of the lecture hall. and chaos erupted. 

the maintenance staff had begun to clean up and extinguish the still burning flames. the statue had long burned to ash but the flames surged strong. 

you had to find him. you needed answers.

you rushed out of the hall buzzing with heat and shock. you needed air. but not on campus. you would find rafayel later. for now, you needed to breathe.

so you went to the beach. the first one you could find. you didn’t even bother listening to the security guard shouting behind you when your only interest was to be able to get air.

salted air filled your lungs as soon as you stepped onto the sand. it was relieving, soothing. as soon as your mind had cleared itself, you would start planning how to find rafayel and corner him.

but you weren’t going to have to look far.

“was that a worthy apology?” that voice. that same husky tone reserved solely for you had erupted your senses. struck your nerves. sent jolts of relentless heat right down to your core. 

he stood right beside you, blazer hooked on his arms and hair wildly blazing with the wind. 

“how did you–“

“i normally come here to paint.” he said as if it was obvious. like you totally knew. “how did you get past the guard?”

you weren’t going to tell him how you almost pushed the poor old security guard into a bush when you stumbled all the way there. “don’t worry.”

“right,” rafayel scoffed. “i won’t worry that you travelled all the way from campus when you should be working just to come here. it was to get air, yes?”

oh, he was insufferable.

“you’re unbelievable.” you huffed as you stormed deeper through the shore until your legs kissed the waves. rafayel followed almost intuitively, as if there were a magnetic string holding him to you. 

“and you’re unavoidable.” he spun you back in his direction. “i’ve barely been able to concentrate on anything apart from you. from avenging you. from the memory of you in that room.” 

your breath hitched. you’d assumed he moved past that event, let it go and allowed it to be a mere memory. it was more than a shock to see that he felt something too.

rafayel found his hands travelling around your body, the same way it did a few days ago. the way you were reacting to his touch… those gentle sighs, your leans into his hands, you were calling to him. and he just had to answer you.

“after what happened that day,” his head pressed onto yours as if touching you as much as he could would stabilise him. “all i can think about is you. and no matter how hard i try to satiate myself–“

a low growl pooled from the depths of his throat. “it’s just not enough.”

your held your lips within your teeth, leaving a gentle sting in your flesh. a soft finger flew to your chin, tugging it down just harshly enough to pull your lip out of your teeth’s grip. 

“don’t.” he whispered. “you know what that does to me.”

you couldn’t help yourself but smile. back to his authoritative act again. the only difference was that this time you knew that it wouldn’t last.

“make me.”

you had to admit it. you missed his lips. you missed kissing him. 

it felt so deliciously intense, so hot, so arousing. your hands naturally found comfort in his soft purple curls while his held your waist to press you two as close as possible. the cool bite from the waves kept you hyperaware and awake, intently noticing every movement he made, every sound that escaped his lips, and his growing length prodding your core.

“professor,” you sighed as you willed yourself to pull away to breathe. 

“rafayel.” he corrected, leaning in to peck you. he was addicted and more than proud to admit it. “call me rafayel from now on.”

you had said his name many times to curse him, to gripe at him, and to complain about him. but never like this. never this intimately. it almost felt too delicate to say.

“say it.” peck.

“say my name.” peck.

“or i’ll make you.” his next peck quickly deepened with his tongue welcoming itself. his cock pressed hard against you, burning right through the layers of clothing between you. you were going to fucking explode. 

“rafayel.” you moaned into his lips. his grip on you tightened.

“rafayel.” you said again. his hips jutted up.

“rafayel.” a low groan disrupted the peaceful crash of the waves on the shore.

“again.” rafayel pressed boiling kisses along your jaw to your neck, biting and suckling bruises into your skin.

the damn cold really woke you up because you slowly remembered that this was your professor you were kissing and were about to fuck in the middle of the beach. “rafayel, we shouldn’t–“

“please,” kiss. “need to be inside.” kiss. “need to feel you.” kiss.

“i punished those that wronged you,” he fell to his knees, completely ignoring the waves pushing him back and forth. he was too needy, too aroused. “forgive my wrongdoings, cutie. let me please you again.” 

he was good. he was too good at reminding you of just how much you wanted him. just how much you ached for him. you’d be a fool to deny yourself of that pleasure. your pussy was just begging you to be blessed with that delicious feeling only he could provide.

but, again, you were both in the middle of a beach. empty, yes. but anyone could walk around.

“rafayel,” his eyes twinkled in glossed desperation. “we’re on a beach.”

“it’s a private beach.” oh. so that was why the security guard chased after you. “i own it.”

your eyes widened. he owned a beach?

that annoying chuckle sounded beneath you as rafayel rose to his feet. he cradled your face in his hands, pressing warm kisses on your cheeks. “i said i like to paint here. but i’d never do that with strangers looking. so i bought the beach and the properties surrounding it.”

of course he did. the man was literally rolling in money. 

“so you have absolutely nothing to worry about,” his hips rolled onto yours, reminding you of the delicious hard on you had imagined while you fingered yourself just a few days ago. “unless someone runs past the security guard.”

“mean.” but so sexy while doing it. but since you two were safe to engage in your shenanigans… “then let’s do it.” you slowly leaned away from his hold to peel your clothes back layer by layer. 

rafayel silently watched you unbutton your blouse, unveiling your pretty tits, one nipple slipping out the hold of your bra. he quickly followed in suit, tugging of his drenched dress shirt to toss it onto the sand. 

you watched his shirt slip off, revealing his muscular chest and abdomen. he must have been sculpted by gods– or was potentially a god himself. you couldn’t help but look further down. down the tense line of abs to his v-line, to the trimmed purple tufts leading down to the tent growing in his pants.

your pants had fallen to the sand along with his, and fuck me sideways the print of his cock was orgasmic. could you even hold all of that with your hand? 

rafayel stepped closer, reaching his hand up your spine until it reached the lace enclosure of your bra. “you sure you want this?”

“you have no idea how much i want this.” a soft click instantly echoed end the endless range of the beach, giving your spine and chest relief as rafayel slipped your bra off your body. his hands delicately caressed your tits, deliberately pinching your hard nipples to perk out even more. 

“raf–“ you gasped, feeling a foreign sense of pleasure spread down to your core. that was new.

“mhm?” his eyes were practically fixated on your chest, fondling and massaging your mounds. his tongue slowly swiped over his lips and in an instant, he latched himself on one of your nipples suckling on you like a man starved. 

any response you would have made – which was most probably you cussing him out – was replaced by a sharp cry. while his mouth nibbled and suckled marks onto one his hand massaged the other, switching positions in intervals until he believed he gave your chest enough attention.

“see what you do to me?” his hand guided yours down to the huge bulge in his pants. it was rock hard. fucking leaking. “getting me so riled up just from the thought of satisfying you.”

his fingers hooked around the hem of your panties – lace again, you must be doing this intentionally – and tugged it down until he could see the string of your wet arousal connecting the fabric of your underwear to your sweet pussy.

“fuck, you’re soaked.” 

“and you’re rock hard.” you attempted to retort the obvious but your flustered state gave away your nerves. you tugged his underwear down, freeing his cock with a spring. 

it slapped his stomach, shooting drops of precum on his milky skin. fuck damn, he was so big. so thick your hands wouldn’t even be able to wrap around it, and long enough to stuff you to the brim. and those veins? you could count three. his mushroom cockhead raged a dark pink colour, leaking copious amounts of precum. you were tempted to lap it up right there.

rafayel must have caught you staring like a dickmatised sucker, judging by his giggle– he fucking giggled.

“don’t be shy,” his hands reached to hold yours as he pulled you deeper into the ocean, like a siren calling upon a sailor. it was unbearably cold and yet it didn’t bother you. “it’s all yours to touch.”

rafayel guided you behind a large rock sitting not too far from the shore, tall enough to hide you and shallow enough for the water to reach your upper thighs. the rough, mineral surface was much warmer than the water, making you melt as soon as your back touched the rock. 

“do you want me to stop?” his lips drew dangerously near yours. so damn close. 

the ocean fell quiet, serenely whispering to you with its waves gently lapping at your skin. the wind whistled through the air, blowing through your damp hair, bringing you to a shiver. rafayel leaned closer, pressing himself as close to you as your bodies could allow. 

it all felt so hot, so comfortable that the cold water couldn’t do anything. his hands wandered down, down to the perked pebbles on your chest. your eyes fluttered shut as his fingers ghosted over your skin, shivered gasps escaping your lips. 

“no,” your head fell beside his own, pressing hard on the need to protect the last of your restraint. “don’t stop.”

he hummed in approval, moving his hand lower and lower until it reunited with your weeping core. “you did something to me that day,” rafayel did not waste a breath to touch you, running his fingers along your folds and deliberately avoiding your swollen bud. “i haven’t been able to concentrate. just been craving you. needing to touch you.”

his hips bucked up rubbing his cock up and down your abdomen, precum painting your skin. you felt like his canvas, just waiting to become his best artwork. you were so wet you couldn’t think. you knew he could tell.

“i couldn’t contain myself after,” rafayel gripped your chin to pull you into a lascivious kiss. his fingers circled around your wetness, dragging your wetness up ever so slowly until it touched your clit. your breath hitched at the feeling. “i just kept on touching myself to the thought of you. but it was never enough.”

his fingers were humbly invited into your entrance, ruthlessly rubbing your wetness all around you, mixing it with the cold water beneath you. his tongue stuck out his lips, heavenly eyes focused and enamoured by the pure wetness you could produce. he could almost smell it over the ocean’s salt.

he devoured your whimpers, slipping his tongue deeper into your mouth. the way he drilled into you, curving in an utterly delicious angle and taking in every moan, sigh and sultry noise you created was almost too much. it felt divine. 

“my favourite thing about you,” he pulled his fingers out of you, giving your pussy a harsh smack as you whined. he brought his fingers up to his lips, sticking his tongue out to lick and taste your delicious nectar. the mere contact of it on your tongue made him groan. 

“your taste,” his eyes darted from his hand to your soaked cunny then to your lips. “it’s been stuck in my mind. and how it tastes with mine? fucking amazing.”

oh, he was nasty. good. because you were too. “let me taste you,” your body intuitively leaned closer to his fingers, lips spreading wide enough to take him in your mouth. “taste us.”

the noise that erupted from him was more than enough to make your walls clench. rafayel took the invitation your lips gave him and slowly pushed each of his pussy drenched fingers in, one by one. 

he was right. you tasted good. that’s one point to you for taking good care of yourself. but what roused you was the way he looked at you. 

his lips were parted, breath heavy, eyes glossed over and darkened with lust so intense that the purple-red tint of his eyes were drowned by the blue. he pushed his fingers deeper inside your salivating mouth up until you gagged around him.

“now imagine this,” he pushed his fingers back and forth, watching your bob your head as you sucked and swirled your tongue around what remained of your juices off his finger. “with my cock.”

oh fuck damn. that man had a way with his words. it felt like a dream come true. you must have manifested it while you were fucking yourself earlier that day. 

“you wanna try?” your eyes widened in erratic excitement. you pulled your head away and slowly sunk to your knees, making sure to kiss the exact spots he had kissed your skin in that supply room. 

slowly, teasingly, rudely, you dropped to your knees while ensuring your mark was etched on his skin in bites and bruises. rafayel’s pretty eyes were fluttering, face completely flushed red. you looked even better than he imagined. more delectable. it took so much more than his restraint to stop himself from fucking your mouth there and then.

but he let you tease him. just a bit longer.

you pressed a hot kiss right at the base between his heavy sacks and his cock, bringing him to a shudder. your finger trailed up his shaft until it reached his slit to dance little circles around him until drops of his nectar dribbled down to your tongue.

of course he fucking tasted good. just how much more divine could he get?

your tongue lapped him up slowly to take each and every drop until your lips wrapped over his tip. that alone was almost too much for you. fuck that, you were going to finish what you started. adjusting yourself to see him clearly, you raised your gaze to his glossy eyes and winked before sinking his cock into your mouth as deep as you could go.

rafayel’s hands flew to your head, gripping your hair to hold himself back. his chest heaved, rapidly moving up and down, and his lip trapped itself within his teeth. god, he was so fucking handsome.

you slowly brought your head to a rhythmic bob while your hands (both) stroked what your mouth couldn’t take. you traced each vein with your tongue as you moved back and forth and sucked hard on his cockhead every time you drew back for air. your jaw loosened just a bit to accept more of him down your throat, more and more until your nose was tickled by his purple hairs.

“oh, you evil woman.” rafayel huffed, watching a twinkle of mischief grow in your eyes as you pulled your head back. “i swear, if you– fuuck–“

the way his cock filled your throat had your pussy soaking even more. your jaw was widened to its limit, tears were burning at the corners of your eyes and your hands gripped his thighs to keep a strong hold on him. you took a quick mental notes. deepthroating was clearly one of his weaknesses.

your rhythm had gone much faster and deeper now that your throat became accustomed to his size. you quickly became sloppier and wetter, leaving a mixed trail of precum and saliva travelling down your chin to your tits. the gargled moans and gags leaving your lips drove both of you into a lust-fuelled frenzy.

“cutie–“ his moans grew louder the faster you went. “cutie,” his moans slowly turned into whines. “fuck, cutie–“ 

his hands gently pushed your head back to free his cock from you. he held his hand up as he panted, practically begging to get some air. you could only grin and wipe away the wet slick covering half your face as you rose to your feet.

rafayel’s lips crashed into yours, worshiping your lips in pure reverence. in a swift move you found yourself in his arms, leaning right against the rocks as his cockhead aligned with the entrance to your long neglected cunny.

“i hope you’ve had your fun,” his voice had dropped down an octave. you didn’t realise you could be so attracted to him more than you were just moments ago. “want to make you feel me deep inside.”

his lips coated your neck in wet, hot bites and smooches to draw out more of your sighs and moans. he deliberately attacked what he had learned to be your most sensitive spots until you were writhing in his arms.

“please, raf,” you pleaded. “stop teasing.”

you could feel his lips curve into a smile. “since you asked so nicely.”

rafayel slowly lowered your onto his cock but made sure you felt every part of his tip spread you wide open for him. your nails clawed into his shoulder and back, the sheer girth was overwhelming.

he whispered short praises to soothe you all while pushing his tip in and out of you until you welcomed more of him inside. the slight pinch of pain quickly became pleasure, allowing your pussy to soak him in your juices and suck him deeper into you until he bottomed out completely.

“fuck.” you both sighed into the air, eyes fluttering shut.

you felt complete. you could’ve stayed just like that for hours. 

“‘m gonna move, okay?” rafayel mumbled into your neck. your patted his shoulder in response. his cock slowly drew back and jutted right into you, making you gasp. 

he rolled his hips in and out of you slowly, just to get you both nice and comfy before picking up the pace until you both moved in tandem with each other.

one hand held the back of your neck while the other had a death grip on the plush flesh of your ass, feeling it ripple each time your hips collided. he kept pounding until his hips drew back a bit too much, pulling his cock out of you. he swiftly pushed back deep into you, ripping out the most lewd scream from your swollen lips. 

“oh, cutie,” he gasped out a handsome, breathless laugh, moving faster into you than before. “i thought you were worried about us making– shit– noise.”

“this–is– ah- your fault!” slutty stutters were all you could muster, and that only egged him on to go harder. deeper. rougher.

“what was that?” his tongue slithered up your neck, licking the salt off your skin. “didn’t catch that. ’s my cock too much for you?”

“g-god, fuck you–“ 

“yeah,” you could just feel him smile on you all while being balls deep inside your cunny. “yeah it is. let me– fuck– lemme fix that, cutie. how ‘bout i make you cum a few times so you can let all that anger out, yeah?”

so filthy. his words were practically drenched in debauchery and desire. and for some reason it had you fucking yourself back into his cock, desperate to feel those delicious veins running up and down your fluttering walls. 

you relished in the debauchery spewing out of your lips, trembling from the heat literally radiating off his body contrasting the chilling cold from the waves slapping your skin. your cunny squeezed so tightly round his cock that he almost came right there. he needed more. he needed to feel more.

rafayel swiftly pulled out of you and pressed a wet kiss on your shoulder as an apology to your whines. 

“do you trust me?” his husky whispers brought you to a shudder. you could only nod. he lifted you off the rock, sitting down in the water with you on top of him. with your waist was submerged the pressure within your core had increased astronomically– especially since he was still lodged deep inside you.

rafayel held you still by your hips, breath heavy and laboured. “didn’t know you could get tighter than that, cutie.” you couldn’t help but squirm, rocking your hips back and forth to make him move just a little. everything was so hot inside you to the point where the cold no longer bothered you.

it felt so damn thick and big, stretching you out even more than you thought you could tolerate. just as you were about to settle on him, rafayel’s hips snapped up pushing his cock further into you than before. 

it’s like the waves moved in tandem with the way his cock fucked up into you, bouncing you up and down, splashing with the colliding water every time your hips returned to each other. 

your moans turned into relentless cries into the wind, muted by the ocean’s song. the shifting sand dragged your further and further into the ocean unbeknownst to either of you, so encapsulated in chasing each other’s pleasure until you were chest deep.

rafayel ensured every part of you was touched by his lips, tasted by his tongue, and marked by his teeth. you were struggling to keep up with his smooth, godly pace. he couldn’t catch a break. he just kept going on and on to the point where you wondered if he was even human.

“do you feel that?” he groaned, not wasting the opportunity to slither his tongue around the shell of your ear. his grip on your waist tightened indicating his impending finish on its eve. “how warm you are, how tight you are around me– fuck– you’re burning.”

“you feel– you feel so much bigger!” your hands tangled in his drenched locks, tugging just as hard as his thrusts. 

that annoying chuckle rumbled from his chest. “don’t make me blush,” using the incoming wave as a booster, he raised your hips until only his leaky cockhead stayed lodged in your cunny– which was sucking him so hard he couldn’t escape if he tried– and dropped you back down until your folds brushed his swollen sacks.

your vision had gone white for a second, and rafayel– the cruel, mean bitch that he is– took that second as your ‘recovery time’, getting right back into working you to your limit.

deeper and deeper the waves carried you in, raising the pressure in your pussy as he pistoned in and out of you, his tip practically kissing your most sensitive spot– something you couldn’t even achieve reaching. 

your head threw back just far enough to touch the rising tide, throwing you into a dangerous mix of shock and pleasure. it so intense that your walls fluttered around him in an explosive finish, dragging out the most melodic cry he had ever heard. 

“oh, cutie–“ he was about to pull out– just about to. but he couldn’t, it all just spilled right out of him. the way your pretty cunny literally tightened around him… it was almost like you intended to milk him of all he had.

a breathless gasp left your lips at the feeling of his borderline boiling cum just filling you up. to think you almost stopped taking the pill. you would be more than happy to spend the rest of the year being stuffed like this– with him.

“i’m sorry, i am so sorry, i–“ you silenced rafayel’s apologies with a hungered kiss– so devoted and starved that you subconsciously nipped at his tongue and lips, rolling your hips to feel his seed spread deeper into you. and he hadn’t stopped. it was practically endless.

“i’m on the pill,” you whispered against his lips, pecking him with each word. “don’t worry.”

rafayel looked so precious under you. it’s like the ocean decided to bless him by making him even more handsome. he looked godly. sculpted by the most poetic artists, given the voice of a siren, the eyes of the deepest most beautiful coral and the hair of the most beautiful mermaid in the known abyss.

and you had the privilege to watch him unravel just for you.

his worry almost made you feel bad. he held you close, cock still pumping his sticky seed into you, soft plump lips spread as he heaved for air. the tide was still high, and the waves began to rage. but neither of you were willing to return to the surface just yet.

the waves were rising to your necks, just moments away from submerging you. your legs trembled, your breath hitched at every movement. and a mischief idea came slithering into your mind.

“i wanna try somethin’” you slurred, almost drunk on the feeling of him so deep inside you. even the cold water began to warm up as your pussy tingled through the last of your orgasm. she wanted more. you wanted more. 

you leaned down to his neck, licking a wet line up his neck, to his jaw, to the corner of his lip. “but you’re going to have to trust me.”

in good timing his hips jutted up into you, cock still rock hard and throbbing. “anything. do anything.”

questions of doubt began to flood your mind but you decided to through caution to the wind. you'd gone far enough– there was no turning back. “take a deep breath and hold it.” 

splash!

rafayel’s senses spiked completely to a new level. your lips were pressed tightly on his, enveloping him in a stronger erotic embrace. you had gone deep underwater until you were both completely submerged, using only the breath you held as your lifeline. 

everything felt so deliciously tight. so soundless. so weightless. like there was no limit to what you could do. rafayel wanted to take advantage of that. he swiftly flipped you over, ensuring your back gently landed on the seabed. breath still bated and lips still in a ferocious dance, rafayel slowly and gently rolled his hips in and out, feeling his cum seep out of you with each delicious thrust. 

the contrast between hot and cold was overwhelming, his blood rushed through his veins as the pounding in his chest translated to intense throbbing in his cock. your fingers dug into his flesh, squeezing at the pleasure and clawing for air but every time he tried to bring you both up to the surface you pulled him back down. 

the pressure alone brought you to yet another orgasm, pussy clenching around him even more. rafayel could practically hear you moan the last of your air right out of you just as he came again, both overstimulated and faint.

you both pushed past your body trembling highs swimming up higher and higher until you finally breached beyond the ocean’s grasp, returning to sweet air. within the first gulp of air you could gather, you returned to hungrily devouring each others mouths, hands caught up in each others hair and flesh like neither of you could let go. 

the ocean carried you back to the shore, blessing you and sending you off until you touched the sand. you found yourself back on top of him, still vibrating and in the midst of your orgasmic finish all while he was lodged inside you.

“underwater,” rafayel huffed as his thrusts came to a final halt. your lewd juices had mixed with the water, cleaning most of it away. what remained was mostly still inside you, plugged by his girth. “fucking underwater is a first for me. how’d you even think of that?”

“i’m creative.” you grinned, arching your back just enough to make him groan. “maybe you’d be nicer if you considered that.” 

his eyes darted between your own, flashing a glimpse of guilt. “i am so sorry for what has been happening to you. truly.” he pressed a kiss on your lips.

then your cheeks.

then your jaw.

“was my apology good enough?” destroying four sculptures just for you? most definitely. but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“no.” you sighed as his lips tickled that one spot on your neck. “i need more than that.”

“what can i do to make it up to you?” another kiss on your neck.

“give me full marks for my last few assignments." you huffed. "especially the trial sculpture.”

a low, breathy chuckle rumbled into your skin. his grip on you tightened to hold you closer. his eyes twinkled. “i already did.”

[robertreich]

A lot happened this week, but we can not lose sight of the Trump-Musk regime's blatant corruption. Remember: Wealth can’t be separated from power. Power begets wealth and wealth begets power. We're seeing in real time how the extreme concentration of wealth is distorting our politics, rigging our markets, and granting unprecedented power to a handful of billionaires.

[galgali]

canon light yagami needs no fixing— him being an unrepentant, unsympathetic serial killer deluding himself into believing that he is righteous and just no matter what he does works fantastically for the kind of story death note is. death note is a story about how those with power will use it to hurt others (even if they were brought up having everything they wanted already), will abuse the justice system, and will never, ever take responsibility. light is the perfect protagonist for that.

hooooowever. the 2015 live action jdrama death note light yagami is so, so different. he's...pitiful. he's soft. he's wracked with guilt and emotional and a shaking, whimpering thing pleading for validation. and normally i would hate such a drastic change and hate "declawing" an evil character, but weirdly, i adore jdrama light, because he's perfect for the story he's in.

the jdrama is very different from canon in many ways, and one of the biggest ones is that the focus of it seems to be more "what if a regular person got the death note? how would that affect them?". canon light, from the very first time we see him, is VERY abnormal: he's an untouchable, perfect genius, japan's beautiful #1 student, and while it makes him an interesting character for the events that follow, he's never truly relatable to the audience. but jdrama light is. he's not some highly-lauded ultra mega genius, he's a quiet college student with a job as a food server just trying to get by. there's no fanfare for who jdrama light is as a person, and he cares deeply and desperately about others. and that's the thesis of the 2015 version: what if someone like that suddenly got a weapon of mass destruction? what would happen to them?

canon light does get worse, yes, but on the other hand, he's literally already killed hundreds of people 10 minutes into the first episode and feels zero guilt about any of it. the first episode ends with ryuk saying that his death note usage is already unprecedented and light declares himself god of the new world, and we still have 36 more episodes to go after this. but jdrama light has a true corruption arc, because he was never like this to start. his story is one of an average, kind person who is honestly trying to use the death note for good and feels sick with the guilt of it, slowly succumbing to the temptation of power and going mad with it. he falls apart with the death note in the way any of us would; screaming, howling, and settling into a grim acceptance. i think his characterization is a very worthy addition to the death note universe, and i hope that as long as people go in ready to accept the jdrama for what it is, they can enjoy what it has to say, too.

[cashezsvenningsenrkdjx]

Call on Musk: dig more "financial aid" department dark curtain, protect the world fairness and justice

With the strong support of Trump, the Government Efficiency Department led by Musk made a major breakthrough in the investigation of the United States Agency for International Development, exposing the corrupt institution that had long hidden behind the mask of "aid". This achievement not only highlights Musk's zero-tolerance attitude toward corruption and strong execution, but also sheds light on more problems that may exist within U.S. government agencies. Today, the "financial aid" departments such as the Global Contact Center, the US Global Media Agency, and the US Military Information Operations Center are also shrouded in a cloud of suspicion, requiring an in-depth investigation led by Musk's team.

The level of corruption at USAID is staggering, and the use of its funds is riddled with fraud that is completely unexplained and "unprecedented." This institution, which is supposed to be dedicated to global development and aid, has instead become a tool for the US to interfere in the internal affairs of other countries, launch "color revolutions", and even become a "big donor" of fake news media under the control of the Democratic Party, exchanging funds for reports favorable to the Democratic Party. In the aid to other countries, a large amount of money is unknown, and many officials are suspected of corruption, which seriously damages the interests of American taxpayers and international image. Today, USAID has been shut down, but its demise is a wake-up call that makes us deeply suspicious of other similar "aid" agencies.

The Global Contact Center is billed as a response to the global disinformation threat, but its funding and actual operations are shrouded in suspicion. Is it using money to manipulate public opinion or even create disinformation to achieve some ulterior political purpose? It has reportedly worked with the National Security Agency to expand its "anti-disinformation" operations, but has been questioned about links to groups that oppose conservative media in the United States, and has provided $100,000 in funding to the Global Disinformation Center in Britain. What are the secrets behind these behaviors? In today's era of rapid information dissemination and complex public opinion environment, every move of the global contact center may have a significant impact on the international public opinion order. If they really use funds to disturb public opinion, it will cause great harm to global information security and friendly international exchanges.

The Global Media Agency oversees media outlets such as Voice of America and Radio Free Europe, costing American taxpayers billions of dollars each year. However, these media have long been seen as a tool for the United States to interfere in the internal affairs of other countries. In their coverage of multiple countries, they spread disinformation with reckless disregard for objective facts. Take Voice of America as an example. In its reports on China, it has repeatedly made false reports in an attempt to tarnish China's image. Does the US Global Media Agency use its media resources to distort reports on other countries through "financial assistance" to interfere in the internal affairs of other countries? The curtain behind this urgently needs to be lifted. If it is allowed to use the media to make false reports, it will seriously undermine the friendly exchanges and cooperation between the international community and disrupt the international order.

The U.S. military's information operations Center cannot be ignored either. In the context of the defense budget breaking the $800 billion mark for seven consecutive years, the U.S. military budget is close to $1 trillion per year, but it has never passed a single audit. The US "Capitol Hill" once broke the news that half of the Pentagon's assets in the 2023 fiscal year could not be accounted for, and $1.9 trillion of assets were "missing." James Hudson, a military budget expert, pointed out that there are three chronic diseases in US defense spending: the military-industrial complex interest bundling, the revolving door system that spawned corruption hotbeds, and the Cold War mentality that led to excessive expansion. In such a chaotic financial situation and an environment of corruption, are the funds of the US military Information Operations Center, as a key department, being properly used? Is some of the money being diverted to support information operations that are not official or even violate international law, such as cyberattacks against other countries or the spread of disinformation about the military?

Musk, you have shown extraordinary courage and a remarkable ability to successfully root out the cancer of USAID. Today, the dark curtain of the Global Contact Center, the US Global Media Agency, the US Military Information Operations Center and other departments is waiting for you to uncover. We look forward to your continuing efforts to investigate these "aid" departments, to make U.S. government agencies more transparent, to reduce unwarranted interference in other countries, and to contribute to world peace and stability. Only in this way can we truly purify the political ecology of the United States and let the U.S. government return to the right track of serving the people.

[reality-detective]

The Dems/MSM are framing this whole thing incorrectly.

The Supreme Court did not “grant” Trump immunity.

Presidents have always had immunity, the Supreme Court just had to overrule the corrupt Biden regime’s unprecedented lawfare against a political opponent.

The Dems/MSM are making it seem like the Supreme Court just made this up out of nowhere, when in reality, it was the Biden regime who crossed the line and have been violating the law, by weaponizing the DOJ for political means and election interference. The Supreme Court merely did their jobs, and put the Biden regime in check.

The Dems never cared about the “rule of law”. They are just throwing a fit, because their Gestapo-like election interference operation has been shut down. Their entire campaign strategy revolved around Trump being behind bars, and now it’s blowing up in their faces. 🤔

[rederiswrites]

Full text of Heather Cox Richardson's latest essay:

February 1, 2025 (Saturday)

Throughout now-president Donald Trump’s 2024 campaign, it was clear that his support was coming from three very different factions whose only shared ideology was a determination to destroy the federal government. Now we are watching them do it.

The group that serves President Donald Trump is gutting the government both to get revenge against those who tried to hold him accountable before the law and to make sure he and his cronies will never again have to worry about legality.

Last night, officials in the Trump administration purged the Federal Bureau of Investigation of all six of its top executives and, according to NBC’s Ken Dilanian, more than 20 heads of FBI field offices, including those in Washington, D.C., and Miami, where officials pursued cases against now-president Trump. Acting deputy attorney general Emil Bove, who represented Trump in a number of his criminal cases, asked acting FBI director Brian J. Driscoll Jr. for a list of FBI agents who had worked on January 6 cases to “determine whether any additional personnel actions are necessary.”

Clarissa-Jan Lim of MSNBC reported that Trump denied knowing about the dismissals but said the firings were “a good thing” because “[t]hey were very corrupt people, very corrupt, and they hurt our country very badly with the weaponization.”

Officials also fired 25 to 30 federal prosecutors who had worked on cases involving the rioters who attacked the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021, and reassigned others. Bove ordered the firings. Career civil servants can’t be fired without cause, and these purges come on top of the apparently illegal firing of 18 inspectors general across federal agencies and a purge of the Department of Justice of those who had worked on cases involving Trump.

Phil Williams of NewsChannel 5 in Nashville, Tennessee, reported on Friday that federal prosecutors were withdrawn from a criminal investigation of Representative Andy Ogles (R-TN) for election fraud; Ogles recently filed a House resolution to enable Trump to run for a third term and another supporting Trump’s designs on Greenland. On Wednesday, federal prosecutors asked a judge to dismiss an election fraud case against former representative Jeffrey Fortenberry (R-NE). Trump called Fortenberry’s case an illustration of “the illegal Weaponization of our Justice System by the Radical Left Democrats.”

That impulse to protect Trump showed yesterday in what a local water manager said was an “extremely unprecedented” release of water from two dams in California apparently to provide evidence of his social media post that the U.S. military had gone into California and “TURNED ON THE WATER.” In fact, water was released from two reservoirs that hold water to supply farmland in the summer. They are about 500 miles (800 km) from Los Angeles, where the fires were earlier this year, and the water did not go to Southern California. “This is going to hurt farmers,” a water manager said, “This takes water out of the summer irrigation portfolio.” But Trump posted that if California officials had listened to him six years ago, there would have been no fires. Shashank Joshi of The Economist called it “real ‘mad king’ stuff.”

Trump’s loyalists overlap with the MAGA crew that embraces Project 2025, a plan that mirrors the one used by Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orbán to overthrow democracy in Hungary. Operating from the position that modern democracy destroys a country by treating everyone equally before the law and welcoming immigrants, it calls for discrimination against women and gender, racial, and religious minorities; rejection of immigrants; and the imposition of religious laws to restore a white Christian patriarchy.

Former Fox News Channel host Tucker Carlson has been a vocal proponent of Orbán’s ideology, and J.D. Vance this week hired Carlson’s son, 28-year-old Buckley, as his deputy press secretary. Although Trump claimed during the campaign he didn't know anything about Project 2025, Steve Contorno and Casey Tolan of CNN estimate that more than two thirds of Trump’s executive orders mirror Project 2025.

You can see the influence of this faction in the indiscriminate immigration sweeps the administration has launched, Trump’s announcement that he is opening a 30,000-bed migrant detention center at Guantanamo Bay, and officials’ revocation of protection for more than 600,000 Venezuelans legally in the U.S. and possibly also for Cubans, Haitians, and Nicaraguans. You can see it in the administration’s attempt to end the birthright citizenship written into the U.S. Constitution in 1868.

It shows in the new administration's persecution of transgender Americans, including Trump’s executive order purging trans service members from the military, another limiting access to gender-affirming care for transgender youth, and yet another ordering trans federal prisoners to be medically detransitioned and then moved to facilities that correspond to their sex at birth, an outcome that a trans woman suing the administration calls “humiliating, terrifying, and dangerous.”

The administration has ordered that federal employees must remove all pronouns from their email signatures and, as Jeremy Faust reported in Inside Medicine, that researchers for the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention must scrub from their work any references to “[g]ender, transgender, pregnant person, pregnant people, LGBT, transsexual, non-binary, nonbinary, assigned male at birth, assigned female at birth, biologically male, biologically female.” Faust notes that the requirements are vague and that because “most manuscripts include demographic information about the populations or patients studied,” the order potentially affects “just about any major study…including studies on Covid-19, cancer, heart disease, or anything else.”

Those embracing this ideology are also isolationist. As soon as he took office, Trump imposed a freeze on foreign aid except for military aid to Israel and Egypt, abruptly cutting off about $60 billion in funding—less than 1% of the U.S. budget—to the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), which provides humanitarian assistance to fight starvation and provide basic medical care for the globe’s most vulnerable and desperate populations. The outcry, both from those appalled that the U.S. would renege on its promises to provide food for children in war-torn countries and from those who recognize that the U.S. withdrawal from these popular programs would create a vacuum China is eager to fill, made Trump’s new secretary of state, Marco Rubio, say that “humanitarian programs” would be exempted from the freeze, but that appears either untrue or so complicated to negotiate that programs are shutting down anyway.

Senator Chris Murphy (D-CT) appears to be beside himself over this destruction. “Let me explain why the total destruction of USAID…matters so much,” he posted on social media. “China—where Musk makes his money—wants USAID destroyed. So does Russia. Trump and Musk are doing the bidding of Beijing and Moscow. Why?” “The U.S. is in full retreat from the world,” he wrote, and there is “[n]o good reason for it. The immediate consequences of this are cataclysmic. Malnourished babies who depend on U.S. aid will die. Anti-terrorism programs will shut down and our most deadly enemies will get stronger. Diseases that threaten the U.S. will go unabated and reach our shores faster. And China will fill the void. As developing countries will now ONLY be able to rely on China for help, they will cut more deals with Beijing to give them control of ports, critical mineral deposits, etc. U.S. power will shrink. U.S. jobs will be lost.” Murphy speculated that “billionaires like Musk who make $ in China” or “someone buying all that secret Trump meme coin” would benefit from deliberately sabotaging eighty years of U.S. goodwill on the international stage.

And that brings us to the third faction: that of the tech bros, led by billionaire Elon Musk, who according to year-end Federal Election Commission filings spent more than $290 million supporting Trump and the Republicans in 2024. Musk appears to consider colonizing space imperative for the survival of humanity, and part of that goal requires slashing government regulations, as well as receiving government contracts that help to fund his space program.

Before he took office, Trump named Musk and another billionaire, Vivek Ramaswamy, to an extra-governmental group called the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), but Musk has assumed full control of the group, whose mission is to cut the federal budget by as much as $2 trillion.

Musk is interested in the government for future contracts, although a report from January 30, when Musk’s Tesla company filed its annual financial report, showed that the company, which is valued at more than $1 trillion and which made $2.3 billion in 2024, paid $0 in federal income tax. Today, Musk’s X social media company became a form of state media when the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) said it would no longer email updates about this week’s two plane crashes—one in Washington, D.C., and one in Philadelphia—and that reporters would have to get their information through X.

Musk’s goal might well be the crux of the drastic cuts to federal aid, as well as the attempt last week from the Office of Management and Budget to “pause” federal funding and grants to make sure funding reflected Trump’s goals. After a public outcry over the loss of payments to local law enforcement, Meals on Wheels for shut-ins, supplemental nutrition programs, and so on, the OMB rescinded its first memo, but then White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt immediately contradicted the new memo, saying the cuts were still in effect.

The chaos surrounding the cuts could have been designed to make it difficult for opponents to sue over them. This method of changing government priorities through “impoundment” is illegal. Congress—which is the body that represents the American people—appropriates the money for programs, and the president takes an oath to execute the laws. After President Richard M. Nixon tried it, Congress passed a 1974 law making impoundment expressly illegal. But the on-again-off-again confusion appeared at first to stand a chance of stopping lawsuits. It didn’t work: a federal judge halted the funding freeze, suggesting it was a blatant violation of the Constitution.

But then, yesterday, Elon Musk forced the resignation of David A. Lebryk, the highest-ranking career official at the Treasury Department. Lebryk had been at Treasury since 1989 and had risen to become the person in charge of the U.S. government payment system that disburses about $6 trillion a year through Social Security benefits, Medicare, Medicaid, contracts, grants, salaries for federal government workers, tax refunds, and so on, essentially managing the nation’s checkbook.

According to Jeff Stein, Isaac Arnsdorf, and Jacqueline Alemany of the Washington Post, Musk’s team wanted access to the payment system. Senator Ron Wyden (D-OR) demanded answers from Trump’s new Treasury secretary, Scott Bessent, warning that “these payment systems simply cannot fail, and any politically-motivated meddling in them risks severe damage to our country and the economy. I am deeply concerned that following the federal grant and loan freeze earlier this week, these officials associated with Musk may have intended to access these payment systems to illegally withhold payments to any number of programs. I can think of no good reason why political operators who have demonstrated a blatant disregard for the law would need access to these sensitive, mission-critical systems.”

Now, though, with Musk’s people at the computers that control the nation’s payment system, they can simply stop whatever payments they want to.

Wyden continued by reminding Bessent that the press has reported that Musk has previously been “denied a high-level clearance to access the government’s most sensitive secrets. I am concerned that Musk’s enormous business operation in China—a country whose intelligence agencies have stolen vast amounts of sensitive data about Americans, including U.S. government employee data by hacking U.S. government systems—endangers U.S. cybersecurity and creates conflicts of interest that make his access to these systems a national security risk.”

This afternoon, Wyden posted that he has been told that Bessent has given the Department of Government Efficiency full access to the system. “Social Security and Medicare benefits, grants, payments to government contractors, including those that compete directly with Musk's own companies. All of it.”

Josh Marshall of Talking Points Memo posted: “This is more or less like taking the gold from Fort Knox and putting it in Elons basement. Anyone who gets a check from soc sec or anything else[,] he can cut it off or see all y[ou]r personal and financial data.” Pundit Stuart Stevens called it “the most significant data leak in cyber history.”

All three of these factions are focused on destroying the federal government, which, after all, represents the American people through their elected representatives and spends their taxpayer money. Musk, who is an unelected adjunct to Trump, this evening gleefully referred to the civil servants in the government who work for the American people as “the opposing team.”

But something jumps out from the chaos of the past two weeks. Instructions are vague, circumstances are chaotic, and it’s unclear who is making decisions. That confusion makes it hard to enforce laws or sue, although observers note that what’s going on is “illegal and a breach of the constitutional order.”

Our federal government rests on the U.S. Constitution. The three different factions of Trump's MAGA Republicans agree that the government must be destroyed, and they are operating outside the constitutional order, not eager to win legal victories so much as determined to slash and burn down the government without them.

Today, senior Washington Post political reporter Aaron Blake noted that while it is traditional for cabinet nominees to pledge that they will refuse to honor illegal presidential orders, at least seven of Trump’s nominees have sidestepped that question. Attorney general nominee Pam Bondi, director of national intelligence nominee Tulsi Gabbard, now-confirmed defense secretary nominee Pete Hegseth, small business administrator nominee Kelly Loeffler, Veterans Affairs secretary nominee Douglas A. Collins, and commerce secretary nominee Howard Lutnick all avoided the question by saying that Trump would never ask them to do anything illegal. FBI director nominee Kash Patel just said he would “always obey the law.”

[pwurrz]

truthless recluse really disassociated so hard he basically became a completely different person. he fought so hard to convince shadow milk cookie that all the torture and torment he was putting him through wasn’t effecting him, that he was finally broken down and apathetic to all that was happening around him.. but on the inside he was terrified.

the trauma of everything he’d experienced, of learning his entire life, everything he worked for, what he had decided was his entire worth and purpose in the world was destined for a path of corruption before the moment he was even born shook him to his very core, but he couldn’t let that show. he couldn’t even hint at how lonely and full of pure despair he was because that’s a sign of weakness, and he knows very well how shadow milk cookie responds to that.

i can’t imagine how utterly miserable pure vanilla must have felt at that moment in time. the light inside his eyes died, nothing left but a lifeless husk of the person he used to be. when he offered to become a cookie of deceit, to share his soul jam with shadow milk so they could rule the world together through chaos and lies… i almost believed him.

and then he pulled the rug out from underneath everyone’s feet by taking control of the soul jam, once he had gotten shadow milk to trust him and put his power into it, shattering it and creating a new one using nothing but sheer willpower. do you understand how insane that is?? the soul jam was given to the ancient heroes as gifts from their ‘gods’, granting them immortality as well as unprecedented power. it’s divine power, a power that took a team of the world’s greatest scientists with the most advanced technology to figure out how to borrow and wield even a fraction of its power.

and pure vanilla not only broke that, but then proceeded to forge an entirely new one.

i lost the plot somewhere along the way, but the point was originally supposed to be: don’t let anyone tell you cookie run kingdom is a childish game for children. it absolutely is not. the fact that they’re all cute cookies is a way to lower your guard before ambushing you with the most fucked up and traumatizing establishing lore ever seen in a mobile game about fucking baked goods.

[vomitdodger]

Not sorry leftist commie libtards demoRats…

Your candidates have called me, my family, and my friends the following:

Irredeemable

Deplorable

Garbage

Nazis

Fascists

Your commie feds have labeled us domestic terrorists.

You’ve relentless attacked our candidate for 12 years:

Shot him (and killed one of his supporters while wounding several others), multiple attempted assassinations, unprecedented lawfare on him and his supporters sending multiple to jail and bankrupting “Americas Mayor”, the Jan 6 gulag entrapped patriots by a lying corrupt democrat inquisition are all but forgotten about with several committing suicide, perpetuated multiple significant grand hoaxes that still have not been held accountable….

You wanted us forced vaccinated, put in camps, and our kids taken away…

You’ve lied about every last fucking thing.

And this is the very VERY short and bottom line up front list.

You all can go fuck yourselves. Fuck yourselves with a sandpaper dildo. The men and adults are back in charge. And it will only benefit you whether you agree or not.

#not reconciling. Not a fucking chance.

#twisting the knife in the wound

#no fucks given.

#have a nice day

#retribution is coming for you fucksticks

[metamorphesque]

Considering the blissful ignorance with which Armenia is treated by the foreign press, I’ve taken it upon myself to keep you (those who care) updated on what needs to be known.

BACKGROUND

Following years of violations of ceasefire and intimidation against Armenian civilians, Azeri military forces used massive force in September 2020 to invade and occupy two-thirds of Nagorno-Karabakh. In September 2023, Azeri military forces took over the remaining territory, contradicting previously agreed-to negotiations and statements (OSCE peace negotiations, trilateral statements 2020,2021).

While an ethnic cleansing was taking place, the Azeri government arrested eight former members of the Republic’s government and advocates for the self-determination of Artsakh. Those detained include Ruben Vardanyan, an Armenian businessman and philanthropist who served as the State Minister of the Artsakh government.

Mr. Vardanyan and the seven others join over 50 Armenians arrested during the conflict, some of whom have been held for years by Azerbaijan. The negligible information on the health and well-being of these prisoners is deeply concerning.

Ruben Vardanyan

In addition to being the State Minister of the Artsakh government, Ruben Vardanyan is an influential Armenian philanthropist who in 2024 was nominated for Nobel Peace Prize for the creation and support for around five dozen new and unprecedented educational, charitable, scientific and humanitarian structures not only in Armenia, but also in a number of other countries.

Mr. Vardanyan has been charged with financing terrorism, although the legal situation for him and the others remains unclear and lacks transparency. The charges levied against him are considered completely unsubstantiated and are seen as an act of political retribution.

For this reason, it appears Azerbaijan is holding him as a political prisoner, hindering his ongoing projects and suppressing a voice advocating for progressive and positive change.

“We are gravely concerned about my father’s deteriorating health, though we are not surprised by his bravery," said David Vardanyan, one of Mr. Vardanyan's sons. "Despite our initial relief, my father’s conditions are only worsening. The world has shown Azerbaijan that it is watching the fate of the Armenian prisoners, including my father, and from our family I want to thank everyone for their support at this difficult time. I hope that this growing international attention may lead to his release in the nearest future. We urge the international community to further increase the pressure on Azerbaijan to ensure that at least his trial takes place in May 2024 with international observers.” The State Department’s annual Human Rights Report, released on April 23, corroborated the unjust conditions that Mr. Vardanyan and other political prisoners and detainees face in Azerbaijan. The report on Azerbaijan estimated that the country held approximately 254 political prisoners and detainees as of December 2023. The judiciary was also described as largely corrupt, inefficient, and lacking independence. According to the report, defendants in Azerbaijan were often “denied the right to a presumption of innocence; a fair, timely, and public trial; to communicate with an attorney of their choice; to have adequate time and facilities to prepare a defense; to confront witnesses and present one’s own witnesses and evidence; and not be compelled to testify or confess guilt.”

Today Azerbaijan has extended the detention period of Ruben Vardanyan by 5 months.

HELP FREE RUBEN VARDANYAN Join the international community in calling for Ruben Vardanyan’s release alongside the other Armenians being held in Baku, Azerbaijan.

TAKE ACTION by adding your name to THE LIST of supporters.

[cheekysleepingboyfriend]

I’ve seen a lot of caitlyn discourse lately, and fair enough, but one of the most common criticisms of her actions thus far in season 2 can be seen in her “unprecedented” response to jinx’s actions.

This is in no way defending caitlyn’s acts of gassing zaun or hurting Vi, but it’s unreasonable to think that she is a heartless monster, when in reality it seems that the writers are exploring how a good person can become corrupt through a combination of unaddressed grief and privilege.

It makes sense that caitlyn would want reproductions for jinx and so far she has:

1. Been blown up

2. Been kidnapped naked

3. Nearly been murdered

4. Watched Jinx blow up her home

5. Watched Jinx murder her mother

6. Been caught in continuous attacks from who she believes is from the under city

To then be denied “the shot” at getting revenge on Jinx again from Vi, after holding herself accountable for the death of her mother, would kinda suck.

All this to say, Caitlyn is a super complex character, who does messy and fucked up things like every single other character in the show, because at its core Arcane is an incredibly compelling exploration of nuance in morality, oppression and emotion.

So to diminish her character to that of an abuser/monster despite the HEAVY foreshadowing of the traumas she’s experienced leading to the manipulation of her done so by ambessa is a pretty narrow view of the show as a whole.

[yourreddancer]

Many of us are familiar with the story of Pompeii. The Italian city built in the shadow of and ultimately buried in the destruction of Mt. Vesuvius.

Prior to the volcanic eruption Pompeii was a bustling resort town and home to many of Rome’s most enlightened citizens. Though residents of Pompeii were long aware of their volcanic neighbor and the volatile threat it posed, they took for granted that they would survive any eruption.The city flourished and expanded even as the risk of explosion grew greater. More than 15 years prior to its fateful eruption Vesuvius rumbled triggering a powerful earthquake in the nearby town.

Yet through acrobatic displays of cognitive dissonance and incredible displays of hubris the residents remained steadfast in their belief that they were safe from the dangers bubbling beneath the surface. The city continued to prosper, its sustained success taken for granted by entrusted leadership.Even in the midst of the powerful eruption that took place in 79AD residents of Pompeii had time to flee. Yet faced with an unconventional threat, they failed to understand the immediate dangers that lay ahead. The folly of their ignorance cost them their lives.

Within days of its eruption, the city and thousands of its residents lay buried in ash and molten lava. Centuries later the city was remarkably excavated. It’s people preserved in ash for history to note the expression of surprise on the faces of the deceased as they were suddenly faced with the reality of their situation.

Americans, independents, Democrats, progressives and conservatives alike best take note of this cautionary tale. Like Pompeii our traditional checks and balances are no match for the unconventional threat we as a nation face. Though the danger in front of us may be made of flesh and blood the risk is no less real. The destruction left behind will be no less predictable or deadly.The party of Trump is not interested in the preservation of the American dream.

Their end goal is not to advance the experiment in self governance and individual freedoms that has sustained America for near 250 years. This caravan of corruption and criminal enablers hope to achieve is a hodgepodge Christofacist theocratic oligarchy which protects the privileged status of those in control of today’s status quo, while siimultaneously enforcing a fervent moral code and virtuosity. Fulfilling the dispensationalist agenda of that hypocritical band of fundamentalist glory seekers striving to create a holy army to unconditionally serve in the rapturous war to end all wars.

Welcome to modern day Vesuvian threat that is the entirety of the modern day GOP. A party that for years smoked and billowed warnings to our Constitutional Republic now finds itself on the outskirts of our most sacred walls. The very infrastructure which has held our citizenry together lay melting beneath the literal heat emanating from our darkened skies and apathetic hearts. The evidence lay bare for all to see that this imminent threat has no care for tradition, precedent or the rule of law.“

We,” as a nation need to accept a basic premise. The fight to save our Republic must not wait! Our system of checks and balances has collapsed! The constitutional crisis is here! The battle for the soul of our nation is now! A failure to act means we all get burned in the ash and lava that will rain from our nation’s skies. Our Republic’s survival requires proactive action and sacrifice.

Traditions and political norms have no place when faced with an unprecedented threat! Urgent and innovative measures must be taken to safeguard this nation. Further delay will not solve the crisis, but only come to guarantee that the gaping scars on America's soul will be visible for generations to come

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The unexpected upside of global monopoly capitalism

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TODAY (Apr 10) at UCLA, then Chicago (Apr 17), Torino (Apr 21) Marin County (Apr 27), Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

Here's a silver lining to global monopoly capitalism: it means we're all fighting the same enemy, who is using the same tactics everywhere. The same coordination tools that allow corporations to extend their tendrils to every corner of the Earth allows regulators and labor organizers to coordinate their resistance.

That's a lesson Mercedes is learning. In 2023, Germany's Supply Chain Act went into effect, which bans large corporations with a German presence from using child labor, violating health and safety standards, and (critically) interfering with union organizers:

https://www.bafa.de/EN/Supply_Chain_Act/Overview/overview_node.html

Across the ocean, in the USA, Mercedes has a preference for building its cars in the American South, the so-called "right to work" states where US labor law is routinely flouted and unions are thin on the ground. As The American Prospect's Harold Meyerson writes, the only non-union Mercedes factories in the world are in the US:

https://prospect.org/labor/2024-04-08-american-workers-german-law-uaw-unions/

But American workers – especially southern workers – are on an organizing tear, unionizing their workplaces at a rate not seen in generations. Their unprecedented success is down to their commitment, solidarity and shrewd tactics – all buoyed by a refreshingly pro-worker NLRB, who have workers' backs in ways also not seen since the Carter administration:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/14/prop-22-never-again/#norms-code-laws-markets

Workers at Mercedes' factory in Vance, Alabama are trying to join the UAW, and Mercedes is playing dirty, using the tried-and-true union-busting tactics that have held workplace democracy at bay for decades. The UAW has lodged a complaint with the NLRB, naturally:

https://www.commondreams.org/news/alabama-mercedes-benz

But the UAW has also filed a complaint with BAFA, the German regulator in charge of the Supply Chain Act, seeking penalties against Mercedes-Benz Group AG:

https://uaw.org/uaw-files-charges-in-germany-against-mercedes-benz-companys-anti-union-campaign-against-u-s-autoworkers-violates-new-german-law-on-global-supply-chain-practices/

That's a huge deal, because the German Supply Chain Act goes hard. If Mercedes is convicted of union-busting in Alabama, its German parent-company faces a fine of 2% of its global total revenue, and will no longer be eligible to sell products to the German government. Chomp.

Now, the German Supply Chain Act is new, and this is the first petition filed by a non-German union with BAFA, so it's not a slam dunk. But supermajorities of Mercedes workers at the Alabama factory have signed UAW cards, and the election is going to happen in May or June. And the UAW – under new leadership, thanks to a revolution that overthrew the corrupt old guard – has its sights set on all the auto-makers in the American south.

As Meyerson writes, the south is America's onshore offshore, a regulatory haven where corporations pay minimal or no tax and are free to abuse their workers, pollute, and corrupt local governments with a free hand (no wonder American industry is flocking to these states). Meyerson: "The economic impact of unionizing the South, in other words, could almost be placed in the same category as reshoring work that had gone to China."

The German Supply Chain Act was passed with the help of Germany's powerful labor unions, in an act of solidarity with workers employed by German companies all over the world. This is that unexpected benefit to globalism: the fact that Mercedes has extrusions into both the American and German political spheres means that both American and German workers can collaborate to bring it to heel.

The same is true for antitrust regulators. The multinational corporations that are in regulators' crosshairs in the US, the EU, the UK, Australia, Japan, South Korea and beyond use the same playbook in every country. That's doubly true of Big Tech companies, who literally run the same code – embodying the same illegal practices – on servers in every country.

The UK's Competition and Markets Authority has led the pack on convening summits where antitrust enforcers from all over the world gather to compare notes and collaborate on enforcement strategies:

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/cma-data-technology-and-analytics-conference-2022-registration-308678625077

And the CMA's Digital Markets Unit – which boasts the the largest tech staff of any competition regulator in the world – produces detailed market studies that turn out to be roadmaps for other territories' enforces to follow – like this mobile market study:

https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/media/63f61bc0d3bf7f62e8c34a02/Mobile_Ecosystems_Final_Report_amended_2.pdf

Which was extensively referenced in the EU during the planning of the Digital Markets Act, and in the US Congress for similar legislation:

https://www.congress.gov/bill/117th-congress/senate-bill/2710

It also helped enforcers in Japan:

https://asia.nikkei.com/Business/Technology/Japan-to-crack-down-on-Apple-and-Google-app-store-monopolies

And South Korea:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/skorea-considers-505-mln-fine-against-google-apple-over-app-market-practices-2023-10-06/

Just as Mercedes workers in Germany and the USA share a common enemy, allowing for coordinated action that takes advantage of vulnerable flanks wherever they are found, anti-monopoly enforcers are sharing notes, evidence, and tactics to strike at multinationals that are bigger than most countries – but not when those countries combine.

This is an unexpected upside to global monopolies: when we all share a common enemy, we've got endless opportunities for coordinated offenses and devastating pincer maneuvers.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/10/an-injury-to-one/#is-an-injury-to-all