#WA Labor

[danielnelsen]

chris minns calling victoria a ‘welfare state’ is so embarrassing, come on man. this gst thing is so stupid

[srijellyfishtempura-archive]

The western australian shadow government is really funny because this is the parliament:

So Labor has so many ministers which means that the coalition needs to get shadow ministers for all of those but they don’t have enough people so you get each member of the party being a shadow minister for like 9 things

also in the upper house there is a party called the daylight saving party (in yellow) and their sole policy position is to have a referendum on getting daylight saving time into WA

[comradecowplant]

going absolutely insane looking at indeed for a side job where half the openings are for positions like "trash valet" (bringing trash from someone's house/apartment to the actual collection area) or "pet waste removal" (self-explanatory)... idk if this take is "spicy" but unless you are physically disabled, take your own fucking trash out!!!! pick up after your own fucking dog!!!!!

[spiritofjustice]

I think I pictured Paul as being really skinny before but tbh I think it’d be cute if he was a little chubby instead

[ballimeracy]

Choso drabble!

Choso busting in his boxers thinking about you!

863 words

Choso had always been obsessed with you one way or another. He always admired you from a safe distance, hearts practically in his eyes whenever you were around him. This sort of obsession only grew when Yuji had gotten Choso a phone and helped set up some social media accounts for Choso to keep in contact with various people, including you. He would spend literal hours just sitting in his bed late at night admiring your photos you've posted of yourself and your friends. He always thought you were gorgeous, down from your hair to your soft dewy skin. 

It was one of those nights. Choso had just got done hanging out with you, Yuji, and a few of your other mutual friends. He thought you looked absolutely gorgeous today, with an outfit that showed off your curves.Seeing so much of your skin sparked something inside of him. Whenever you were close enough to nudge his arm, or whenever he got a strong whiff of your perfume, he felt this intense warmth in his tummy and a warmth in his face. 

He was absolutely absorbed in your photos, eyes glued to his phone screen as he admired the photos you took tonight. There was one that had his breath catching in his throat, that familiar warmth dropping down into his tummy once again. It was a photo of you with a big smile, leaning forward to the camera with a drink in hand with your arm slung over Choso’s shoulder. From the photo, he could get a good view of your tits, full and squeezed tight in your shirt. It brought a heat to his cheeks, feeling his breath stutter slightly.

He remembered when that photo was taken, feeling as if he was going to die with the contact your arm made around his neck. He remembered how soft your skin felt, how good you smelt, and how hypnotic your voice sounded. It was making his brain go a mile a minute, not realizing the intense pressure straining against the front of his boxers. He shifted slightly as he stared at his phone, flinching slightly when he felt his cock being rubbed slightly thanks to the friction of his boxers. 

As he continued to stare, admiring the various photos you had taken of the outing, his hand slowly slipped down to his pelvis, letting out a shaky breath when he felt the warmth of his hand cup over the hot and heavy bulge in his underwear. It made him whimper, biting his lips as his hips bucked up slightly. His mind couldn’t help but wander to what it would be like if you were the one cupping him instead of himself.

He could imagine your sweet voice, encouraging him and whispering loving words in his ear about how good of a boy he was and how well he was doing. The tips of his ears were burning, breathing becoming labored as he mindlessly palmed at himself. He imagined your glossy lips and your beautiful smile, how amazing you would look with your lips wrapped around his dick. A whimper escaped his throat as he imagined forcing his length into your throat, how tears would well in your eyes and how you would grip the meat of his thighs. 

He could hear his heart in his ears as he scrolled through your social media, hand speeding up as he continued to palm himself gingerly and flinching with sensitivity. His mind then drifted to those skirts you would wear that would show the curve of your ass perfectly and when you would bend down he could catch a glimpse of the fat lips of your clothed cunt. He’s never seen one before, but he imagined yours would look just as beautiful as you. From research he has done about sex, he thought about how pretty you would look being on top of him and how tight and warm your insides would be. You would definitely make the cutest noises and would praise him to high heaven. A subtle groan escaped from him, his eyes fluttering closed as he got lost in his fantasy.

He imagined what you would look like when you came, all high and whiney, telling Choso he did a good job. He could hear you now, begging for him to come inside. His face exploded with warmth, breath hitching as he felt his hips buck up into his hand. He felt a coil in his belly, whimpering and biting his lip as a warm sticky substance bloomed underneath his hand and in his boxers. It made his hips twitch and buck up, making him whine at the feeling of his cock pulsing underneath his large hand.

When he finally calmed down, he grimaced a little at the feeling of his cum in his boxers, nose scrunching up as he slowly sat up in bed. He definitely would have to shower. Sparing one last look at your photos, he felt a little tinge of guilt in his stomach causing him to frown. Would you think he was disgusting? He would definitely have to talk to you about these weird feelings he was experiencing. Choso let out a soft huff, standing up and shuffling out of his room to go take a shower.

Sorry I have been MIA for the past few weeks! College exams are absolutely kicking my butt! (not necessarily exams, just art projects LOL). I have also been oh so stressed due to the work environment I'm in currently, but over the break I have I will be sure to write loads more! I have been obsessing over Choso so be prepared hehe >:3C

Also! My requests are still open if you would like anything written specifically for a character!

[cheriladycl01]

They do be comfy tho! - Lando Norris x Pregnant! Reader

Plot: You try hide your pregnancy through Lando's large array of hoodies.

Credit to 4and55 for the GIF

You sat in the bathroom crying your eyes out. You'd been feeling sick recently and didn't think the plane journey all the way to Las Vegas would be a good idea.

So you stayed behind while Lando went racing, you were now looking at the positive test in your hand.

You knew exactly when it was, it was. It was after his first race win in Brazil... you guys weren't as careful as you should have been.

"Fuck" you cried leaning your head against the wall of the bathroom, tears streaming down your face. It wasn't that you didn't want kids, or that you didn't want them with Lando it's just that you both agreed now wasn't the best time where he was in the height of his career.

You didn't know what to do, the only person you could think to call was Oscar's girlfriend Lily who you'd become best friends with ever since you met her at her first race appearance.

You waited while the phone rung, and rung until the line opened.

"Lily?" you sob into the phone but it's silent.

"Lily please, i need you!" you cry a little more.

"Y/N?" a male voice you knew too well answered. It was Oscar.

"Oscar?" you ask.

"Yeah, it's me Lily's just in the bathroom i didn't want it to go to a missed call!" he says before you here Lily ask who it is.

"Please Oscar, just hand me over to her" you say, Oscar could tell you were crying and he wanted to know what was wrong more than anything. He handed over the phone to his girlfriend with a worried look who answers right away.

"Y/N?" she asks with concern in your voice.

"Can you be alone right now, like without Oscar?" you say with labored breaths.

"Yeah, he's just leaving to get ready for FP3, weren't you babe!" she smiles giving him a look that tells him to leave.

Oscar, stops outside the door with a small panic.

What does he tell Lando?

Does he tell Lando?

He really had no idea what to say. Did he tell Lando that his girlfriend just got a call from Lando's girlfriend and he answered and she wa sobbing.

Would this make Lando spiral and have a bad race.

"Y/N please tell me what's happened!" Lily says back in Oscar's driver room.

"I'm pregnant" you sob and Lily's eyes widen.

"Congrats?" Lily says awkwardly and you just sob harder.

"Okay okay I'm sorry! I don't know what to say. How can i help!" she asks.

"I don't know, I think i just needed to tell someone!" you sniffle.

You continue to talk to Lily until she needs to leave to go watch Oscar and you agree you should probably watch Lando.

You walk past your shared room with Lando in your Monaco flat seeing one of his hoodies laying over the chair. You grab it and pull it over.

You spend the rest of the weekends watching shitty romcom's until you get a text from Lando.

Lando: I'm coming home, now

And that sent you into a full on spiral. Did Oscar or Lily talk and tell him, was hen angry at you...

Until he got home you were a nervous wreck having a ball of anxiety in your stomach.

"Baby?" Lando calls as he goes through the front door looking around for you. You were sat on the sofa, curled up in his lavender hoodie from his Quadrant range.

He walks in seeing you sat there, tears in your eyes as your trying not to look at him.

"Baby, look at me tell me why Oscar told me you called Lily in floods of tears... what's happened!" he asks, kneeling down in front of you trying to catch your gaze but you refused to look.

"Baby come on" he sighs. You take his hand, before standing up and walking him to the bathroom and showing him the test.

"Is this what I think it is?" he asks looking between the stick and you. You just nod, no words coming to your mouth.

"Baby, this is amazing! I know timing isn't great but i'll be here for you and them! I promise!" he says pulling you into a tight hug. He spent the whole evening talking to you about everything.

"You aren't leaving me?" you asked with a small sniffle.

"Baby, of course not... is that why you called Lily crying?" he asks with a frown and you nod.

"I was just worried, I know Mclaren have a really good car this year and that you and Oscar are a good team and we are still really young!" you admit and he nods.

"We are, but it's not anything we can't handle together..." he says pulling you in for a kiss, holding your hips before they snake up your body to get to the back of your neck.

"I love you so so much" he sighs leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes open watching you eyes.

"I love you too!" you sigh, all that built up anxiety just leaving and releasing from you.

"I don't think we should tell anyone but family" you say looking down and he frowns, not sure what you mean.

"Your going to stop coming to my races?" he asked, obviously he knew towards the end of your pregnancy you wouldn't be able to do the flight but right now you'd be safe and healthy to fly.

"No of course not! As long as we are on a jet I should be fine, why wouldn't eye?" you ask tilting your head in confusion.

"Well, baby ..." he gulps and you nearly start to laugh wondering where he's going with this.

"In a pregnancy you are growing a whole other human inside of you, so you'll ... you know get bigger?" he says as if its more of a question to you than anything.

"Yes, I'll have a bump" you giggle, placing his hand on your currently flat stomach.

"But you don't want to tell anyone? People will start to find out when they see it honey!" he laughs, rubbing your hips and stomach.

“I’ll just cover up with your hoodies” you say showing Jake how you look now.

“Mmmm my hoodies can only go so far” he laughs.

And that was the truth, you struggled in the heat in the hotter countries and ended up getting too big for even Lando’s hoodies.

Someone on twitter had got a picture of you, at an angle where Landos hand gripping your made the loose hoodie grab around your growing stomach and people started to go wild.

So you guys went to Instagram of course.

landonorris

landonorris: Yes Y/N is pregnant! We are both very happy and she’s currently 7 months along and we are expecting in July and cannot wait to meet our little girl!

Tagged 1 Person

View all 476 comments

y/user: I love you so much. I wouldn’t want to experience this journey with anyone else! 🧡🫶🏼

mclaren: Papaya Baby incoming 🧡🦁 Congrats Lando!

oscarpiastri: congrats man!

lilyzniemer: she’s such a pretty mumma

-> y/user: stop it!!!! 🫶🏼🧡

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[grosiralatsterilisasibandung]

[jualautoklafmurahbandung]

[dark-and-kawaii]

༺ 𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝒮𝑜 𝐼𝓃𝓃𝑜𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓉 ༻

Nanami x F!Reader

Summary: Nanami catches you watching porn.

NSFW - Choking - Degradation

Nanami decided to surprise you while your parents were away on a business trip. He knew you needed help with your new skills, so he saw this as the perfect opportunity. He knocked on the door, but there was no response. He tried again, still no answer. Third time's a charm, right? Still nothing. It didn't surprise him that you didn't answer the door, but what surprised him was that it was unlocked.

As he stepped inside, the silence consumed him. It was strange because the lights were off and you would've at least had the TV on. It was dead silent.

“(Y/n)?"

No response. He walked over to the living room and noticed your head poking over the back of the couch. He crept up behind the couch and could see you had your headphones in. His face flushed instantly as he realized what you were watching, on your small phone screen was a video of a naked woman bound and being fucked relentlessly. It wasn't entirely unfamiliar to him, as he had indulged in similar videos himself…

He felt his cock twitch slightly as he stared down at you. Your eyes were glued to the video, watching every thrust. Nanami’s eyes wandered lower on your crotch, you were completely bare from the waist down…

Part of him wanted to walk away, pretend he hadn't stumbled upon you in such a state. Yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away. He continued to stand behind you as you clicked on the next video, titled "Stupid whore gets destroyed," your fingers buried deep inside your pussy. Nanami remained silent, a silent observer, as you circled your clit with vigor.

Nanami despised himself for it, but he couldn't deny the throbbing erection straining against his pants. The combination of watching you pleasure yourself and the explicit content on the screen threatened to make him cum right then and there.

Nanami was frozen. He couldn't look away, couldn't move, couldn't think. All he could do was watch. He wanted to leave, he needed to leave, but the overwhelming need for release was keeping him in place.

As the woman on the screen was being relentlessly fucked, Nanami witnessed your own actions mimicking the scene. You pushed two fingers inside yourself, as if you were the one being pounded. The woman in the video had two cocks thrusting inside her, with a third man attempting to penetrate her asshole. The sound of your moans filled the room as you pushed a third finger into your tight, wet cunt, mirroring the intensity on the screen.

In the video, the girl began to cry, her mascara smudging from her tear-stained eyes. Caught in a trance, you started to whimper, fucking yourself in rhythm with their thrusts. Nanami knew exactly when you were about to cum, the telltale shiver, the pitch of your cries. It was at this moment that he wrapped his hands around your throat, simulating the scene you were watching.

You screamed, feeling the sensation of his calloused hand squeezing the sides of your neck. Nanami was too aroused to notice your reaction. He had already unbuckled his belt and was stroking himself. His breathing was labored, the only sounds coming from the video, and the sounds of his heavy panting.

"Shhh, princess," he hushed as you struggled against his grip, tightening his hold to prevent you from making any more noise, "You enjoy being treated this way, don't you?"

Nanami's eyes were glazed over as he watched you struggle to breathe. Your lips were parted, allowing a soft moan to escape.

"Do you like this, princess?"

You were unable to answer.

"I want to hear you say it."

"Y-yes..." You choked out.

Nanami smirked. He was enjoying this more than he should have. He tutted, his lips brushing against your ear as he tightened his grip around your neck.

"If this is what you want," he taunted, "then I will fuck you just like that whore."

The words sent a chill down your spine. Nanami was enjoying every second of it. He wanted to watch you squirm, wanted to watch you suffer. He wanted to destroy you for once instead of treating you like his princess.

He released his grip around your throat, your lungs filling with air. You gasped and cried out as he continued to stroke his cock.

"I want you to beg for me, (y/n)."

"N-no...Please, Nanami-" You feigned being scared.

"You are being a brat," he snarled, grabbing a handful of your hair, "Do not test me…-." He was hesitant, he had never called you a derogatory name before… “w-whore.”

He tugged harder, causing you moan. The pain felt so good. Nanami knew what he was doing to you, knew how much you craved the pain, and yet he still taunted you.

"Beg for it," he ordered, his voice laced with lust.

You did as he said, begging for him to take you, and fuck you senseless.

"Such a dirty girl, aren't you?" He sneered, "Look at the mess you've made."

Your hands were covered in slick, glistening with your arousal. You whined and reached for him, pleading for him to fuck you. Nanami grabbed your hand and began sucking on your fingers. He moaned, his tongue lapping at the juices, savoring the sweet taste of your juices.

"Tell me how bad you want it, princess."

You couldn’t help but to smile a little, your Nanami just couldn’t stop calling you princess.

"M’Please, please, Kento! I need it, I need you, please..." You swipe his lip with your finger. "Fuck me."

He climbed over the couch and pressed your back against it, his mouth covering yours. You tasted yourself on his tongue. He grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were dark and filled with lust, a dangerous glint in his eye.

"Don't you dare look away," he ordered, his fingers digging into the sides of your face, "I want to see every reaction."

He lifted your legs onto his shoulders, opening your pussy for him. He groaned, watching you spread your juices along your slit. Nanami leaned forward and kissed you deeply, his tongue sliding past your parted lips. His cock pressing against your entrance, and in one hard thrust, he slammed into you. You gasped as he began pounding you.

"Is this what you want?" He growled, "You want me to treat you like the little slut that you are?"

"Yes! Please, yes! M'Want it harder!"

Nanami grunted and quickened his pace. Your hips were rocking against his, the couch creaking with each movement. His fingers found their way into your mouth, pushing past your lips to press down on your tongue.

"Suck them," he demanded.

You complied, sucking his fingers and swirling your tongue around them. Nanami growled, pulling his fingers from your mouth, a string of saliva trailing after them. He wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing tightly, causing you to gag.

His fingers bruising as he feels himself about to cum, “Gonna cum,” he chokes out.

He pulls out, spilling his load onto your stomach, and the floor. His hand falls from your throat, a satisfied smile spread across his face. And just as he pulls out your own release washes over you.

"Good girl," Nanami purred, kissing the top of your head, "Let's get you cleaned up."

You were left breathless and speechless as he carried you upstairs to the bathroom.

[katsumox]

"the roomate."

~1k words. jason todd x reader.

there's so much sexual tension here it should be illegal. anyway..

“Fuck you, Jason. Literally fuck you,” you shout, stomping into the shared apartment.

It was the third argument this week. It's been two months since you moved in, and the two of you have been arguing ever since. You found Jason's apparent severe dislike for you confusing, as you'd been nothing if not outright kind to him. At the very least, you've been an amicable and considerate roommate.

Time after time, Jason Todd found ways to get under your skin in the apartment you shared with him, Roy, and Kori. Though you were a new addition to the trio, you meshed extremely well with everyone, except Jason, of course. The two redheads were quick to tell you that Jason didn’t get along with many, but he didn’t mean any harm. Nevertheless, The four of you began renting a condo for the sake of cheap rent when the going got tough.

Something about you seemed to fundamentally irritate Jason. Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t have a perpetual stick up your ass, unlike him, or maybe it was because he had a natural aversion to anything happy or remotely nice. Perhaps it was the way you found reasons to smile and laugh obscenely hard at jokes his male friends say, but somehow find Jason entirely unfunny. Or perhaps it’s the fact that you don’t immediately shut down Roy’s frequent flirty jokes and offers for dates.

“Oh,” he drawls, eyes widened. “Didn’t think good girls like you cursed,” he mocks, following you into the shared living space.

You roll your eyes, kicking off your heels with a little more malice than you probably should.

“Just because you make it your life’s mission to be the meanest, most inconsiderate son of a bitch on the planet,” you snarl, stalking towards your room, “doesn’t mean I have to deal with it. Be a fucking cunt on your own time.”

“Fuck did you just say to me?”

You whip around, tired of the back and forth. “You heard exactly what the fuck I said.”

The smell of his cologne mixed with gunpowder all but invades your senses as he storms toward you.

“Fuck you,” he sneers, eyes narrowed. His hulking form towers over you, his neck craned down to see all of you as he backs you into a corner. At nearly 6’4, a literal wall of muscle and angst, he towers over you, posturing.

His near-permanent scowl hardens as you refuse to break eye contact, despite something in you begging to. Jason's always been pretty. If not for his attitude, you'd find him incredibly attractive. In fact, you think, mentally frowning, you find him attractive despite his cold demeanor. Maybe even because of it.

The rough timbre of Jason’s voice wakes you from your silent stupor.

“Tell me to leave,” he murmurs, pressing himself closer to you, lips just barely ghosting your own. He pulls back, realizing the desperation in his voice in tandem with his proximity to you is maddening.

“Tell me to get the fuck out," he says, breathless. "To stop touching you,” his hand now lightly squeezing your jaw, keeping you in place. Keeping you from avoiding confrontation.

His focus flickers between your lips and your eyes, taking labored breaths.

You part your lips, as whatever thought you began to formulate dies as you realize the proximity of Jason’s lips to yours. You take a shallow breath again. You could count every one of his dark, long eyelashes from here, you think. Every one of his sun spots and freckles, and scars.

“Tell me not to. Tell me now,” he rasps, blueish-green eyes half-hidden by low eyelids. Something unspoken passes between the two of you, neither of you saying anything, yet saying everything all at once. You take a breath, hoping your words won't fail you for a second time.

"…Fuck it."

Suddenly you both are on each other, kissing, clawing, and caressing all the same.

A groan rumbles in Jason's chest as you paw at him. You've been enveloped by him in all his entirety; his smell, his taste, his sounds. You press at his chest, a solid wall of muscle, hoping to push him blindly, to where you think the couch is. The man smirks at your initiative, taking the hint.

He taps your ass twice, but you're too distracted by the taste of him on your lips.

"Be good f'me, doll. Lemme lift you,"

You hum, more concerned with the mountain of a man in front of you. He lifts you with ease, sitting you on his lap as he resumes his mission to make you break. Your nails scrape down his chest deliciously, drawing out another low, needy noise from the man. Jason takes note of how freely you let your hands roam, ghosting over places that haven't been touched in a long time.

"Eager, aren't we, sweetheart?"

"Shut up," you say at full volume, caught off guard by the nickname and forgetting where you are.

"Shut me up, then," Jason quips, pulling you up toward his face for another dizzying kiss. His kisses move from the corner of your mouth down your jaw. Featherlight touches follow him down to your collarbone, where he lightly nibbles at you.

You let out a strangled, needy noise, one far too loud and embarrassing for the time and place the two of you find yourselves in.

"Shh, shhh. 'S okay, baby," Jason coos, a devilish smile creeping up on his swollen lips. "Wouldn't want the others to hear you, would we?"

You hum and shake your head, dazed, as the man deftly rubs circles into your hip with his fingers.

"Guess we should take this to a more private place, hm, pretty girl?"

You nod emphatically, chasing his lips as he moves you off of him.

"So," he pauses, catching his breath. His black hair is tousled, his lips pink and swollen, and his pupils blown wide.

"Your room or mine?"

[millyhelp]

"Goodbye, Jason."

Part 2 | back to you masterlist.

Taglist: @harleycao @jaysgirlx @intriq @jasontoddsdarling @killxz @duduvea @idontknow2754 @remanisce @starrvine @dragon-slayer23 @nalilvsjaybird @xxsweetnlowxx @oranoyaora @deimks @lv9su

Warning: make out between teenagers (not sex), mentions of weapons, mentions of violence, angry Alfred. angst.

Notes: Sorry for the delay in posting this, I've been so busy 😭 But I'm glad I did it. Please comment and reblog. I really like your opinion and it is always welcome!!

Hungry hands squeezed your hips and guided you along the growing length. Thirsty lips kissed your neck, eliciting soft whimpers from your throat.

He was supposed to help you study for the math test, but Jason couldn't help himself when he saw you so cute with those round glasses that made your face beautiful and your eyebrows furrowed as he explained.

In the silence, the library in the great Wayne mansion made your little whimpers seem loud.

"Sh... be quiet for me, huh?" Jason whispered in your ear "Alfred can find us here, we don't want that, do we?"

"No- Hm... we don't want that" You whispered back

"Good girl." Jason's lips crashed onto yours again. He raised one of his hands towards your breast and with the other he guided your hips on top of him.

Knocking on the door startled you both. You jumped off Jason's lap and back to your spot next to him on the couch.

"Master Todd, Miss YL" Alfred entered the library with a tray in his hands. "Master Bruce asked me to bring biscuits and tea. I hope I'm not disturbing your studies."

Alfred wasn't stupid and he was also a teenager once. With great elegance he held back his smile when he noticed the two teenagers with red cheeks and labored breaths.

"It's okay Alfred!" Jason tried his best to speak and smiled at the butler. "We were just finishing. Aren't we, Princess?"

"Yes..." You spoke with a low tone of voice and embarrassment. Alfred walks to the large table in front of the couch and sets the tray on top.

"Good. I'm leaving." Alfred looks at Jason with a warning look "Behave yourself, Master Todd."

As soon as Alfred left Jason sighed in relief and you started laughing.

"Why are you laughing?" Jason frowned and looked at you with amusement "Did you like being caught? huh?"

Jason climbed on top of you laying you on the couch. You stopped laughing and looked into his deep eyes.

"Does the idea of being caught turns you on?" Jason's nose ran across your neck.

"Jay... You need to finish teaching me- oh." You moan when you feel Jason suck on your sweet spot on your neck, leaving a mark.

"Teaching you? But teach you what? Be specific..." Jason purred "I can teach you many things."

"The math test." You managed to speak and Jason smiled.

"If you do well on this test next week. I’ll reward you” Jason winked at you and got up off of you.

He took the book in his hands.

"So, where were we?"

"Run!" Jason was pulling your hand as you ran from Alfred.

Maybe stealing the cookies he had just taken out of the oven wasn't a good idea. You and Jason laughed as you ran inside the mansion.

"It was your idea!" You shouted to Jason in a breathless voice.

"But you like it!" Jason pulled you into one of the guest rooms and waited for Alfred to run past you two.

"But I don't agree-" Jason covered your mouth with his hand

"Shh..." Jason looked through the crack in the door and Alfred ran past and looked.

You and Jason started laughing when you realized you were safe. A kiss was planted on your forehead.

"I didn't think he would be so mad." You commented smiling

"Nah. He's not mad. Well." Jason giggled "He's mad at me, not you. You are the good one."

"You're the good one too, Jay." You rolled your eyes

Jason was so focused looking at you. He was memorizing everything. Your eyes, your nose, your mouth, your beautiful cheeks, everything. He was afraid of forgetting.

"I found you two!" Alfred's voice sounded from behind you two making you both startle.

"It was Jason's idea!" You said and Jason looked at you indignantly.

It was Valentine's Day. It was already the third time you spent together. Holding hands and sincere smiles. Jason is happy.

"Princess..." Jason started to speak and you looked at him "I want to take you somewhere."

He wanted to take you to a place that was important to him. A place where he suffered. A place where he knew he needed to show you.

"Sure, Jay. Where is it?" Her sweet and gentle voice made his heart swell with love.

"Crime Alley. Where I was born and raised." Jason bit his lip as he spoke.

"If it's important to you. Take me there." You gave his hand a squeeze as a sign of support and assurance.

Jason nodded and began to guide you towards it. You two weren't that far away.

The walk was silent, but not in Jason's mind. He had been so fragile since he found out who his real mother was. He only took out his unresolved anger on patrols, but not on you. Jason was afraid of hurting you.

Upon arriving at the crime alley, Jason's eyes became sad.

"I lived there before Bruce adopted me." He pointed his finger at a hole beneath a fire escape in an old building.

"Oh Jay... I'm sorry." You looked at him. Jason's eyes had a window of tears ready to break and fall.

"My mother had died a few weeks ago, before the whole batman thing. I-..."

You placed your hands on his cheeks and made him look at you. Jason wasn't much taller than you, just a few inches.

The window of tears broke and Jason cried. You hugged him tightly and he hid his face in your neck. Soft sobs were left from the lips on your neck.

"It's okay now." You said lovingly as you ran your hands over his back "I'm here with you, I'll never leave you."

That was a promise. Jason knew that.

Your neck was wet with his tears. Little by little he calmed down and the sobs started to lessen. Knowing Jason, you knew he had been holding back for a long time to be able to cry like this.

"All good?" You asked softly in his ear and he murmured

"Mhm..." Jason's arms tightened around you in a deep hug. He can't lose you. "Thank you..."

"Don't need to thank me." You ran your hands through Jason’s hair and he shivered below of your fingers.

He loved having your hands in his hair, no matter what. This left him vulnerable and on his knees.

When he finally removed his face from your neck, he looked into your eyes. His beautiful face was red and his eyes were a little swollen, but still, there was your Jason.

Jason still had a cut on his lip from the previous patrol. Jason is so handsome.

"It wasn't a good idea to bring you here. I'm sorry, it was a dumb idea and-" You cut him off.

"It wasn't dumb." you ran your thumb over his cheek "I already told you. If it's important to you..."

"...It's important for you too." Jason added and you smiled.

Jason had his forehead next to yours when he felt a presence near you.

"Give me everything you have!" A gun was pointed at your head and Jason went on alert. A robber. Today was not his lucky day.

Your eyes widened in fright. But Jason held you tight. You were with Robin now.

"Give me the purse!" The man shouted at you, making you flinch. "And you give me your wallet and that watch, brat!"

"What if I don't want to?" Jason shouted coldly.

"Give me what I asked for or I'll-" Jason cut the robber off.

"Or what? you shoot me?" Jason lets go of you and quickly takes the robber's gun and breaks his hand, making him scream in pain. "You should think twice before pointing a gun at my girl!"

Jason saw red. All the anger that was stored in him was taken out on the man. Punches and butts of the gun were distributed in the face of the man who was begging Jason to stop. You were in shock, tears fell down your face. You had never seen Jason so violent.

"Jason, that's enough! You're going to kill him!" You finally managed to say and clarity came to Jason's mind.

He released the man. Hands with blood, face disfigured. The man was already unconscious. Jason looked at you and his heart sank. A frightened look was in your eyes. You were scared of him.

"Princess..." Jason whispered and looked at his hands. Blood, blood that wasn't his. He lost control in front of you. "I'm- I'm sorry-... I."

"Take me home." You managed to say "Now."

Fuck. Did you hate him? Did he lose you? Were you scared of him? Would you break up with him?

"Sure." He nodded and finally moved away from the man on the ground. He wasn't nearly dead, but he would survive.

Jason didn't touch you. He just accompanied you and together you ordered a taxi.

When Jason dropped you off at your house he didn't have the courage to look you in the eyes, he didn't have the courage to kiss you. He didn't want to see fear in you.

"Bye, Jay..." The nickname leaving your lips and a kiss left on his cheek made him feel more guilty. He didn't deserve your mercy. He was silent and didn't look at you.

You looked at him with a heavy and sad heart, but you knew he needed time.

"My window will be open." You said and got out of the taxi soon after watching him leave.

Jason didn't show up.

Jason was gone for two months.

You were worried. No messages or calls, not even a letter he wrote to you sometimes. Nothing.

After much agony you made up your mind. You went to the manor. But it was in vain. Jason didn't receive you. You tried several times. but it was always the same thing.

Your last stop was school. Jason had missed for two months, he wouldn't miss it that much. You waited, and there he finally was.

Jason looked horrible. There was a look below his eyes, a black eye, a cut on his lip and eyebrow.

He walked past you, completely ignoring you. You felt pain.

You pressed a hand to his chest. what happened to him?

You knew one thing. He couldn't escape from you in the literature class.

Your classes passed until you reached literature class. There he was, sitting in his usual seat and yours was empty. You quickly walked in and sat next to him.

You wanted to curse him, hit him, scream at him, kiss him and ask why he disappeared. But no, you wouldn't do that.

The class passed. Jason remained silent. You noticed him looking at you but when you turned to look back, he looked away and ignored you again.

You weren't putting up with it.

Class ended and Jason left first. You went after him. When you finally reached him, you grabbed his arm.

"What's gotten into you?!" were the first words that came out of his mouth. Everyone looked at you. "Where have you been?!"

"y/n, not here." He called you by your name. He doesn't call you that.

Jason held your hand and you went to a calmer place without an audience.

"Aren't you going to answer my questions?" You looked at him indignantly. He wouldn't look him in the eye. "Answer me, Jason!"

"I can't do it anymore, okay?!" Jason yells and finally looks you in the eye "This isn't going to work anymore!"

"What?..." You shake your head, "What do you mean? Jason, what does that mean?!"

"I'm breaking up with you." You can see the sadness in his eyes. He didn't want to do that.

"Jason, what happened in crime alley-" He interrupted you

"It wasn't supposed to happen. I shouldn't have taken you there."

"You disappear for two months and just tell me you want to break up with me without any explanation?!" Tears left your eyes "Wow, how brave of you!"

"Just... I can't anymore..." Jason shakes his head "Can..." he sighed "Can we just be friends?"

"Friends?" You shook your head

"Please."

"Goodbye, Jason."

"No, please!" He tried to take your hand. But with a tearful look, he let you go.

Little did you know that it really was goodbye.

IM NOT CRYING!! YOU ARE!!

Coment and reblog please!! And thank u!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Brian Merchant’s “Blood In the Machine”

Tomorrow (September 27), I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine. On October 2, I'll be in Boise to host an event with VE Schwab.

In Blood In the Machine, Brian Merchant delivers the definitive history of the Luddites, and the clearest analysis of the automator's playbook, where "entrepreneurs'" lawless extraction from workers is called "innovation" and "inevitable":

https://www.littlebrown.com/titles/brian-merchant/blood-in-the-machine/9780316487740/

History is written by the winners, and so you probably think of the Luddites as brainless, terrified, thick-fingered vandals who smashed machines and burned factories because they didn't understand them. Today, "Luddite" is a slur that means "technophobe" – but that's neither fair, nor accurate.

Luddism has been steadily creeping into pro-labor technological criticism, as workers and technology critics reclaim the term and its history, which is a rich and powerful tale of greed versus solidarity, slavery versus freedom.

The true tale of the Luddites starts with workers demanding that the laws be upheld. When factory owners began to buy automation systems for textile production, they did so in violation of laws that required collaboration with existing craft guilds – laws designed to ensure that automation was phased in gradually, with accommodations for displaced workers. These laws also protected the public, with the guilds evaluating the quality of cloth produced on the machine, acting as a proxy for buyers who might otherwise be tricked into buying inferior goods.

Factory owners flouted these laws. Though the machines made cloth that was less durable and of inferior weave, they sold it to consumers as though it were as good as the guild-made textiles. Factory owners made quiet deals with orphanages to send them very young children who were enslaved to work in their factories, where they were routinely maimed and killed by the new machines. Children who balked at the long hours or attempted escape were viciously beaten (the memoir of one former child slave became a bestseller and inspired Oliver Twist).

The craft guilds begged Parliament to act. They sent delegations, wrote petitions, even got Members of Parliament to draft legislation ordering enforcement of existing laws. Instead, Parliament passed laws criminalizing labor organizing.

The stakes were high. Economic malaise and war had driven up the price of life's essentials. Workers displaced by illegal machines faced starvation – as did their children. Communities were shattered. Workers who had apprenticed for years found themselves graduating into a market that had no jobs for them.

This is the context in which the Luddite uprisings began. Secret cells of workers, working with discipline and tight organization, warned factory owners to uphold the law. They sent letters and posted handbills in which they styled themselves as the army of "King Ludd" or "General Ludd" – Ned Ludd being a mythical figure who had fought back against an abusive boss.

When factory owners ignored these warnings, the Luddites smashed their machines, breaking into factories or intercepting machines en route from the blacksmith shops where they'd been created. They won key victories, with many factory owners backing off from automation plans, but the owners were deep-pocketed and determined.

The ruling Tories had no sympathy for the workers and no interest in upholding the law or punishing the factory owners for violating it. Instead, they dispatched troops to the factory towns, escalating the use of force until England's industrial centers were occupied by literal armies of soldiers. Soldiers who balked at turning their guns on Luddites were publicly flogged to death.

I got very interested in the Luddites in late 2021, when it became clear that everything I thought I knew about the Luddites was wrong. The Luddites weren't anti-technology – rather, they were doing the same thing a science fiction writer does: asking not just what a new technology does, but also who it does it for and who it does it to:

https://locusmag.com/2022/01/cory-doctorow-science-fiction-is-a-luddite-literature/

Unsurprisingly, ever since I started publishing on this subject, I've run into people who have no sympathy for the Luddite cause and who slide into my replies to replicate the 19th Century automation debate. One such person accused the Luddites of using "state violence" to suppress progress.

You couldn't ask for a more perfect example of how the history of the Luddites has been forgotten and replaced with a deliberately misleading account. The "state violence" of the Luddite uprising was entirely on one side. Parliament, under the lackadaisical leadership of "Mad King George," imposed the death penalty on the Luddites. It wasn't just machine-breaking that became a capital crime – "oath taking" (swearing loyalty to the Luddites) also carried the death penalties.

As the Luddites fought on against increasingly well-armed factory owners (one owner bought a cannon to use on workers who threatened his machines), they were subjected to spectacular acts of true state violence. Occupying soldiers rounded up Luddites and suspected Luddites and staged public mass executions, hanging them by the dozen, creating scores widows and fatherless children.

The sf writer Steven Brust says that the test to tell whether someone is on the right or the left is simple: ask whether property rights are more important than human rights. If the person says "property rights are human rights," they are on the right.

The state response to the Luddites crisply illustrates this distinction. The Luddites wanted an orderly and lawful transition to automation, one that brought workers along and created shared prosperity and quality goods. The craft guilds took pride in their products, and saw themselves as guardians of their industry. They were accustomed to enjoying a high degree of bargaining power and autonomy, working from small craft workshops in their homes, which allowed them to set their own work pace, eat with their families, and enjoy modest amounts of leisure.

The factory owners' cause wasn't just increased production – it was increased power. They wanted a workforce that would dance to their tune, work longer hours for less pay. They wanted unilateral control over which products they made and what corners they cut in making those products. They wanted to enrich themselves, even if that meant that thousands starved and their factory floors ran red with the blood of dismembered children.

The Luddites destroyed machines. The factory owners killed Luddites, shooting them at the factory gates, or rounding them up for mass executions. Parliament deputized owners to act as extensions of law enforcement, allowing them to drag suspected Luddites to their own private cells for questioning.

The Luddites viewed property rights as just one instrument for achieving human rights – freedom from hunger and cold – and when property rights conflicted with human rights, they didn't hesitate to smash the machines. For them, human rights trumped property rights.

Their bosses – and their bosses' modern defenders – saw the demands to uphold the laws on automation as demands to bring "state violence" to bear on the wholly private matter of how a rich man should organize his business. On the other hand, literal killing – both on the factory floor and at the gallows – was not "state violence" but rather, a defense of the most important of all the human rights: the rights of property owners.

19th century textile factories were the original Big Tech, and the rhetoric of the factory owners echoes down the ages. When tech barons like Peter Thiel say that "freedom is incompatible with democracy," he means that letting people who work for a living vote will eventually lead to limitations on people who own things for a living, like him.

Then, as now, resistance to Big Tech enjoyed widespread support. The Luddites couldn't have organized in their thousands if their neighbors didn't have their backs. Shelley and Byron wrote widely reproduced paeans to worker uprisings (Byron also defended the Luddites in the House of Lords). The Brontes wrote Luddite novels. Mary Shelley's Frankenstein was a Luddite novel, in which the monster was a sensitive, intelligent creature who merely demanded a say in the technology that created him.

The erasure of the true history of the Luddites was a deliberate act. Despite the popular and elite support the Luddites enjoyed, the owners and their allies in Parliament were able to crush the uprising, using mass murder and imprisonment to force workers to accept immiseration.

The entire supply chain of the textile revolution was soaked in blood. Merchant devotes multiple chapters to the lives of African slaves in America who produced the cotton that the machines in England wove into cloth. Then – as now – automation served to obscure the violence latent in production of finished goods.

But, as Merchant writes, the Luddites didn't lose outright. Historians who study the uprisings record that the places where the Luddites fought most fiercely were the places where automation came most slowly and workers enjoyed the longest shared prosperity.

The motto of Magpie Killjoy's seminal Steampunk Magazine was: "Love the machine, hate the factory." The workers of the Luddite uprising were skilled technologists themselves.

They performed highly technical tasks to produce extremely high-quality goods. They served in craft workshops and controlled their own time.

The factory increased production, but at the cost of autonomy. Factories and their progeny, like assembly lines, made it possible to make more goods (even goods that eventually rose the quality of the craft goods they replaced), but at the cost of human autonomy. Taylorism and other efficiency cults ended up scripting the motions of workers down to the fingertips, and workers were and are subject to increasing surveillance and discipline from their bosses if they deviate. Take too many pee breaks at the Amazon warehouse and you will be marked down for "time off-task."

Steampunk is a dream of craft production at factory scale: in steampunk fantasies, the worker is a solitary genius who can produce high-tech finished goods in their own laboratory. Steampunk has no "dark, satanic mills," no blood in the factory. It's no coincidence that steampunk gained popularity at the same time as the maker movement, in which individual workers use form digital communities. Makers networked together to provide advice and support in craft projects that turn out the kind of technologically sophisticated goods that we associate with vast, heavily-capitalized assembly lines.

But workers are losing autonomy, not gaining it. The steampunk dream is of a world where we get the benefits of factory production with the life of a craft producer. The gig economy has delivered its opposite: craft workers – Uber drivers, casualized doctors and dog-walkers – who are as surveilled and controlled as factory workers.

Gig workers are dispatched by apps, their faces closely studied by cameras for unauthorized eye-movements, their pay changed from moment to moment by an algorithm that docks them for any infraction. They are "reverse centaurs": workers fused to machines where the machine provides the intelligence and the human does its bidding:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/17/reverse-centaur/#reverse-centaur

Craft workers in home workshops are told that they're their own bosses, but in reality they are constantly monitored by bossware that watches out of their computers' cameras and listens through its mic. They have to pay for the privilege of working for their bosses, and pay to quit. If their children make so much as a peep, they can lose their jobs. They don't work from home – they live at work:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/22/paperback-writer/#toothless

Merchant is a master storyteller and a dedicated researcher. The story he weaves in Blood In the Machine is as gripping as any Propublica deep-dive into the miserable working conditions of today's gig economy. Drawing on primary sources and scholarship, Blood is a kind of Nomadland for Luddites.

Today, Merchant is the technology critic for the LA Times. The final chapters of Blood brings the Luddites into the present day, finding parallels in the labor organizing of the Amazon warehouse workers led by Chris Smalls. The liberal reformers who offered patronizing support to the Luddites – but didn't imagine that they could be masters of their own destiny – are echoed in the rhetoric of Andrew Yang.

And of course, the factory owners' rhetoric is easily transposed to the modern tech baron. Then, as now, we're told that all automation is "progress," that regulatory evasion (Uber's unlicensed taxis, Airbnb's unlicensed hotel rooms, Ring's unregulated surveillance, Tesla's unregulated autopilot) is "innovation." Most of all, we're told that every one of these innovations must exist, that there is no way to stop it, because technology is an autonomous force that is independent of human agency. "There is no alternative" – the rallying cry of Margaret Thatcher – has become our inevitablist catechism.

Squeezing the workers' wages conditions and weakening workers' bargaining power isn't "innovation." It's an old, old story, as old as the factory owners who replaced skilled workers with terrified orphans, sending out for more when a child fell into a machine. Then, as now, this was called "job creation."

Then, as now, there was no way to progress as a worker: no matter how skilled and diligent an Uber driver is, they can't buy their medallion and truly become their own boss, getting a say in their working conditions. They certainly can't hope to rise from a blue-collar job on the streets to a white-collar job in the Uber offices.

Then, as now, a worker was hired by the day, not by the year, and might find themselves with no work the next day, depending on the whim of a factory owner or an algorithm.

As Merchant writes: robots aren't coming for your job; bosses are. The dream of a "dark factory," a "fully automated" Tesla production line, is the dream of a boss who doesn't have to answer to workers, who can press a button and manifest their will, without negotiating with mere workers. The point isn't just to reduce the wage-bill for a finished good – it's to reduce the "friction" of having to care about others and take their needs into account.

Luddites are not – and have never been – anti-technology. Rather, they are pro-human, and see production as a means to an end: broadly shared prosperity. The automation project says it's about replacing humans with machines, but over and over again – in machine learning, in "contactless" delivery, in on-demand workforces – the goal is to turn humans into machines.

There is blood in the machine, Merchant tells us, whether its humans being torn apart by a machine, or humans being transformed into machines.

Brian and I are having a joint book-launch tomorrow night (Sept 27) at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine:

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/the-internet-con-by-cory-doctorow-blood-in-the-machine-by-brian-merchant-tickets-696349940417

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/2023/09/26/enochs-hammer/#thats-fronkonsteen

[soulaires]

aaron warner family headcanons

The Warner Family.

pairings: dad!aaron warner x mom!reader

summary: get to know more about the warner family!

warnings: fluff, domestic, ooc, domestic shenanigans, protective aaron warner …

🪩:: voicemail ; read my other aaron warner fics here.

Aaron found out about it when he heard some crying in the bathroom at the middle of the night, noticing your lack of presence beside him, he got worried and walk towards the bathroom.

There, he saw you, in front of a mirror having a breakdown.

He approached you and asked whats wrong.

“love?” he said softly, as he hugged you from behind and caressed your hair, “My love, whats wrong?” he asked you worriedly.

“aaron..” you trailed off as you continue to sob. He hugged you tightly and kissed your forehead , pulling away as he make you look at him, “what is it, angel? You can tell me.” he urged you.

“I’m pregnant.” you blurt out.

With the lack of reply, you panicked.

“I missed my period recently and I feel kinda shit lately so me juliette and nazeera bought an pregnancy test earlier and I tested all 7 of them and they are all positive, I don’t—”

As you were rambling, he quickly hugged you tightly and lifting you up to the ground as he span you around. You laugh softly at this gesture as he peppered kisses to your face and hair while he whispered sweet nothings.

“Its okay. We will be okay. Don’t worry. We got this, yeah? I love you. Thank you. Thank you, I love you so much, My love.”

at the first stage he got nervous about being a dad and have some self doubt but later got over it as he saw you patying your belly despite it still not visible.

he got more protective over you and never ever let you do things.

you guys told your friends by a guess the word game. They all cried.

He bought a book about being a dad and take notes on pregnancy books to help you out.

Baby proofs the every part of the house immediately.

He went to every appointment with you

He never ever made you feel guilty for your cravings.

Oh you want a food from a store hours away? Just wait.

A hellspawn food combination that you want? He will eat it with you.

Massage? Done.

A food from a different country? He ordered his men to get it ASAP.

Want some sweets especially made by your husband even though you have never tasted his baking? He learned how to bake immediately!

You guys did an gender reveal in the most fun way.

You did it as both kenji and juliette worn a baby costume with 'boy' written in the blue bib for juliette while 'girl' in a pink bib for kenji

They both FIGHT to determine who wins to know the gender

They even go overboard as they jumped into the swimming pool racing each other to the finish line

Kenji won.

So, its a girl!

You guys decorated her room immediately

You did ALOOOTTTT of shopping!!!!!

Your husband just spoils you rotten as you keep buying cute toys, plushies, and pretty cute clothes!!!

“my love, don't you think its a bit too much?” “I am sure the little princess do not need that much clothes, honey.”

he gave up as soon as he saw some cute baby clothes + a matching one.

When you guys did a baby shower its so emotional like omg you guys are gonna be parents!

You and Aaron planted a tree so it grows with baby dior!

teenager!dior safe place is the tree, she goes there to lay down, read and to relax when stresses!

Your friends wrote letters for dior to read when she reached the age 7, 11, 13, 15, 16, 18, 20, 21 and 22!

You and aaron made her a gmail account as you guys constantly wrote her some letters and random things there for her to read in the future

When you went into the labor he desperately wished to take away your pain and was crying with you. He comforted you as he cares your hair and gives you kisses.

“shh, its okay, baby. Im here. Im not going anywhere. ”

“you got this, my love. You are doing so well.”

“Aaron! I can't do this—”

“yes, yes you can, darling.”

He really can't bare to see you in so much pain even though he had seen so much worse

He was very gentle and was crying when he held your baby girl in his hands. His princess, his girls, his universe.

After the labour, you were barely allowed to do things in the house, he only let you rest while he take cares with everything.

You guys had an 3 months lockdown, not allowing anyone to visit the baby

Always keeping an eye for baby monitors

You and him do an rock, paper scissors when it comes to changing baby Dior diapers (he lets you win, sometimes.)

Dior have your eyes so he is a victim to those puppy dog eyes. He can't say no to you, what more to his princess especially with your eyes?

Learns to do her hair!!

Dior first words is not 'momma' or 'dada' it was Kenny. Kenny. You and aaron felt betrayed.

Despite with the nickname, kenji teared up and always paraded the moment (to your husband dismay) he grows to adore the nickname when she keep calling him that

He sometimes forget that he played dress up with baby di so sometimes he go to work with tiara, ribbons, those princess accessories on him.

“Refrain from laughing, there is nothing funny about this matter.” “uh...theres something on you, sir.” “oh.”

Sometimes they were to scared to point it out

Kenji, nazeera and juliette made fun of him not until they were a victim of the dress up

At one point, kenji kidnapped baby dior and was later banned from seeing her for 2 months (barely a month in dior throwed a tantrum wanting to see her uncle kenny)

Baby dior played with your make up when she misses you! She wanna look like you because she misses you so much

Dior is an nature girlie! Aaron believes his angel is a reincarnated of persephone/artemis

Baby dior wears her pants backwards. She believes that “tails” should be at the back. You and Aaron gave up on the fight.

You guys had an motto that if its not hurting anyone or themselves, don't fight it. Let them.

One time you guys thought she was playing phone call but turns out she was in an hour real call with james.

Seashells hunting !!!!!

Everytime you guys went to a beach aaron always buy a big beautiful seashell then hides it in the sand for her to find!!! And her reactions always makes you and him melt!!

he also buries some treasure chests

He made an contract of no boyfriend until shes 30 and made baby dior sign with her prints with paints. He framed it.

You scold him for that and he just shrugs lol

teenage!dior have you in her closefriend and private insta!!

she collects shells and glue them to a cardboard and gifts it to you!

She wants a sibling so one day she just go “I want a baby sister or brother 🥺”

Keeps wishing on a well for it

Aaron is 100% in he just goes “Princess, ask mommy :)” “me too, baby. Let’s just ask momma for it, hm?”

Well, let’s just say she always get what she wants…

authors note: I had fun doing this Omg I wanna make it a series, do you guys want it? Please let me know!!! Feedbacks and reactions are very much appreciated!!!

(Aaron Warner) tag list 🏷 : @ravisinghs-wife @ab-baybay @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @cosmicswan

If you want to be added to my A.W tag list plz let me know in my inbox ! 💌

[fatehbaz]

In September 2022, the Australian High Court upheld a law that effectively allows “preventative incarceration,” or the imprisonment of people even after their sentence has been served, based on whether or not a court thinks the prisoner might be at risk of committing a future crime.

Indigenous people make up 4% of the population of Western Australia, but 40% of the state’s prisoners are Indigenous.

At Western Australia’s Banksia youth prison, 75% of incarcerated youth are Indigenous.

Australia allows for the imprisonment of children as young as 10 years old.

---

Excerpt:

Casuarina prison is a sprawling, concrete jungle on the southern outskirts of Perth, Western Australia (WA). It is a maximum-security, adult facility, home to people who may never leave its confines. However, on July 20, the penitentiary “welcomed” a new cohort of prisoners: 17 kids under the age of 18, who had been moved from the Banksia Hill Juvenile Detention Center to Casuarina [...].

When current WA Premier Mark McGowan was elected in 2017, his Labor party promised to lower the rate of Indigenous incarceration in the state, which is the highest in the nation. First Nations people are 16 times more likely to be incarcerated in WA than non-Indigenous people, a number that has only risen despite the promise of the government.

Dr. Hannah McGlade, a Noongar academic and human rights lawyer, isn’t surprised by the state’s failure to uphold its promise. “Our government cares little for Aboriginal lives,” McGlade told The Diplomat. [...]

In the past month, the Australian High Court upheld a law designed to keep the worst offenders in prison indefinitely, even after their sentences have been complete.

Known as the High Risk Serious Offenders Act (HRSOA), the legislation was challenged in Australia’s apex court when Peter Garlett, a 23-year-old Noongar man, was imprisoned after stealing AU$20 and a necklace while pretending to be armed. Despite this being his first adult offense, when his sentence was up, the Western Australian government asked the High Court to keep Garlett, now 28, in prison.

The court agreed, effectively paving the way for preventative incarceration in Australia.

Though five of the seven High Court judges upheld the constitutional validity of the HRSOA, many academics, lawyers, and activists who deal with the lives of First Nations people inside the legal system on a regular basis, note that this will only further trap Indigenous Australians in the carceral system. Garlett had been in near-continuous detention since he was 12, and this became the rationale for keeping him in prison beyond his criminal sentence.

One of the judges even hypothesized that the law could “potentially lead to the imprisonment of one seventh of the entire prison population of Western Australia for offenses that they have not committed.” [...]

“This is a crystal-clear example of an indirectly discriminatory law: one that is not discriminatory in its express terms but is discriminatory in its practical effect.” [...]

Though Indigenous people make up less than 4 percent of the state population, nearly 40 percent of Western Australia’s prison population is Indigenous. That is particularly troubling given the horrific record of Australian prisons. Since the Royal Commission into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody in 1991, over 500 First Nations people have died while imprisoned in Australia. In 2020-2021 alone, 13 prisoners died in custody in WA – five of them Aboriginal.

No custodial or police officer has ever been found criminally responsible for any of these deaths.

The structural forces pushing Indigenous people into Australia’s prisons start early. In the Banksia Hill Juvenile Detention Center, three-quarters of the inmates are Indigenous. Despite its mandate to rehabilitate people for their eventual release, reports show some of the prisoners receiving as little as five hours of education a month. In April, the state’s prison watchdog outlined a series of “cruel, inhumane, and degrading” treatments in the facility’s Intensive Support Unit. Children have reportedly made suicide pacts due to their treatment, with some being kept in isolation for 23 hours a day. [...]

Penglis and McGlade point to the age of imprisonment in Australia being only 10 years old as devastating. [...]

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Text by: Dechlan Brennan. “How Western Australia Criminalizes Indigenous Children.” The Diplomat. 7 October 2022. [Italicized first lines/heading in this post added by me.]

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