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the-xolotl · 4 months

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What a Bloody Mess !

Alastor x Fem!Reader

ღ a/n: a special gift for my friend Cass over at the discord server~ thank you for the delicious idea. this is def a lil self-indulgent hehe

summary: Alastor's cannibalistic cravings go further than you initially thought. And he's gotten a particular appetite for you this time around.

ღ TAGS: no use of y/n, explicit fem anatomy descriptions, cunnilingus, menstrual oral, oral (fem receiving), scent kink, blood play, face sitting, courting rituals if you squint, scenting, primal habits (? kinda), Al mentions your fertility, explicit depiction of menstruation and ovulation, dubcon.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED ON SIGHT. Thank you~♡

The past two weeks have been hell, ironically. The days leading up to your monthly cycle are always annoying and uncomfortable, not only because of the hormonal imbalance and emotional instability but because of the physical symptoms. Starting with ovulation being a drag, walking around with the constant squelching wetness between your thighs for an entire week that makes you feel embarrassed, it’s ridiculous, it makes you feel like you’re in heat—like an animal. Every step makes you grimace, unable to look anyone in the eye. Let’s not even mention the various lusty, dirty, lewd impulsive thoughts that came with it, the carnal need to be filled; You’re more nervous than usual but despite that, you try to push yourself to be sociable around the hotel.

But you only come to regret it when you notice a certain Radio Demon hanging around you. Like, a lot. Alastor is already usually very cordial and gentlemanly toward you, that’s just who he is and you’ve never given him a reason not to be, however, as of a few days ago, Alastor had been hovering over your general area; often standing or sitting next to you, striking up conversations, teasing you more than usual. What caught you off guard the most were the little acts of service he did. Even offering to accompany you places so you didn’t have to go alone. It came off as protective… And in an odd way possessive. Also, he seemed irritated anytime anyone else grabbed your attention away from him, not very obviously or outwardly so, but noticeable enough because you were so used to watching his behavior you could pick up on it.

You also noticed fewer people approached you, especially if he was around or with you. It was definitely odd behavior from the radio host to be in constant contact with you. And being you’re currently struggling with your own “issues”, it’s annoying and unpleasant having Alastor following you around. Because the idea that anyone could possibly smell the blood on you made you feel gross, even if realistically that’s not very likely. But the worst of it was by far when your actual period started. It felt awkward, your hormones were ramped up to a thousand, peak horny but not being able to relief yourself and not wanting to deal with the mess.

To avoid Alastor you opt to stay locked up in your room, occasionally going down to the kitchen to get a snack or some proper food. And that seemed to work for a little, until he showed up at your door with the excuse that he hadn’t seen you around very much, and became a little worried for you. So here he is standing at your hotel door, “I appreciate the concern, Al, I really do but right now just isn’t a great time—” there’s a hurry in your voice as you try to press him away from the door frame, trying to close it or get him to take a hint but this is the Radio Demon you’re talking about.

“Dear, it’s my job to ensure the comfort and happiness of all hotel residents, including you” his smile grew more conspicuous, instead he used the close proximity to wrap and arm around your lower back to keep you trapped against him. His face inches closer to you, sharp eyes fixed on your blushed face. You tried to recoil away from him but he’s got you pressed chest to chest—well, your chest to his torso more like because he’s stupidly tall— and his entire expression darken. Like he had planned this, like you had fallen into a carefully laid out plan. Heat rose up further up your cheeks and spread through your entire body as you still squirmed in his arms.

“Alastor please, I’m not playing your games anymore. I-I really want to be alone right now,” you can’t help the stutter in your voice. His warmth is so inviting, the way you fit perfectly against him you want nothing more than to be wrapped up in him. In more ways than one, especially with that hand that’s gently thumbing your hip as a means to soothe you. The demon leans in closer still, small cracks of feedback become louder as his mouth graces the shell of your ear and you swear you’re losing your mind. Because as is, he’s putting minimal strength to keep you where you are, so your mind wonders what else he could do, how much more could he make you do if he really tried. It send a shiver down your spine at the thought of feeling those slender claws digging into your flesh—

“Are you sure that’s what you really want?” that velvety voice is enticing, it’s making your already fuzzy brain even more hazy. No, is the honest truth you want to give him. Yet, the last shred of reason nags at you to not let the horny thoughts win. However, that thin thread is about to snap with how insistent Alastor is being. “Let me help you with your… Little predicament, darling,” the lilt in his voice is playful, alluring. Your body goes stiff, though.

“What are you talking about?” you ask nervously. The deer chuckles pulling away and fixing his low-lidded eyes once again on yours, those ruby eyes that seem to look into the darkest depths of your soul with a single glance. You feel paralyzed both from fear and anticipation awaiting his answer.

His free hand comes up to your belly, oh-so gently rubbing the expand of your abdomen. It makes you shudder, your gaze falls down to his hands curious and oddly aroused by the gesture. He doesn’t answer immediately and even when he does it’s not direct. “Last week while going about the hotel as I usually do… I caught a scent I had never quite smelled before. Sweet yet tart. I had wondered for hours on end where it could have possibly come from and how it came and went,” He explained slowly, as slowly as his hand rubbed your abdomen in wide patterns, “Until I realized it came and went as you did. You, little one, have been driving me insane for d̸̞̖̹̎̃̉͊͛̾͗̊̍͘̚a̴̢̼͔̗̬͚̺̠͖̹͔͕͈̭̳͒y̴̧̻̹͙̰̭̽̔̄͂̑̂̈́̔̂̋̌̀́͝s̸̨̙̲̰̲̞̯̖̮̪͌́̽͂͝.”

His voice became much more grave and the radio filter intensified, both hands grabbing at your waist tightly, almost painfully. You unconsciously squeeze your thighs together feeling a warm liquid start to pool. In a panic you tried to snap out of his grasp but that only made him hold on tighter. Did his hands grow? but you don’t have time to wonder how his two hands encircled your entire waist because he’s lifting you up as if you weigh nothing but a couple of grapes, then your back is against something soft— your mattress you suppose— and Alastor with elongated antlers, his body bigger than he normally is and eyes turned to radio dials. You should be fucking scared shitless but seeing his demonic form makes your cunt clench around nothing. There’s no helping you really.

Tendrils sprout around your sheets to hold you where you lay, his large hands come to encircle your thighs spreading them. “Alastor wait! Wait a second!” your face is hot and bright red, “I’m— Oh Satan don’t make me say it,” tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. Your mind is torn in half because dear unholy hell you needed relief, you haven’t been able to cum or touch there because of your messy little predicament but the shame of Alastor seeing the mess is too much.

Alastor laughs pushing your legs apart and further up nearly folding you in half, “Oh I know. I’m a cannibal, pretty girl, I can handle a little blood, now will you allow me to drink from you? You smell positively ripe for the taking,” Alastor presses his face against your still clothed pussy taking in the scent he’s been chasing for almost two weeks.

The action unconsciously made you moan, “Yes, yes fine!” your eyes squeezed tightly feeling entirely too shy and embarrassed to even look at him. His words made your heart skip a beat, this had to be the oddest form of cannibalism— Does it count?— you’ve ever seen, heard of or otherwise. For Alastor, that was all he needed. He’s now a one track minded being with nothing to stop his hunger until it is sated.

He quickly did away with your panties, but not before pressing the fabric against his nose one last time before disregarding it somewhere on the floor, your needy sex twitching for attention. It made you look away from him too many emotions bubbling inside you, it’s a little overwhelming how fast it’s happening and what is happening. It’s dawning on you that Alastor is asking to eat you out, to taste the blood—

Your thoughts are interrupted again but his tentacles lifting you up, Alastor had laid down at some point you hadn’t realized and you were being positioned right on top of his face. You tried to hover out of habit but Alastor wouldn’t let you, his radio voice crackled again, “Oh no, darling. Ỹ̵͇͕̕ō̸̪̟͐ȕ̸͇͎̆ ̶͈̃̂a̸̯̿r̶͓̈́̇e̴̱͑̓ ̵̡͈̿g̴̨͠ò̴̲͖ḯ̸̹n̶̢͚̈́͂g̷͇̎ ̷͖̅t̶̳͇̉̄ǫ̵̫̈́ ̵̮͚̋s̸̘͐͋i̴̜̓t̵̲͌̍,” using his hands he pushed you down on his waiting tongue and held you there as he didn’t hesitate to lap up your slightly bloodied folds.

“Alastor!” you whine loudly, again closing your eyes and even covering your face with both your hands. But you won’t deny how unbelievably good it felt, relieved you’d finally feel release and you couldn’t tell if it’s because someone else is touching you but your sensitivity felt like it had skyrocketed. Your whole body trembled, the tentacles around your waist and chest were doing all the holding up as well as keeping you in place. It’s a little horrifying to be eaten out like this but he’s licking at you like you’re the last drink in hell making you reel and throw your head back. Moans and mewls very soon filled the air and bounced off the walls along with soft sensual jazz that played just a little louder than your own voice. Just enough to mask them from being heard outside of the bedroom.

As Alastor sucked and lapped at your clit, tentacles press harder into your lower abdomen to coax out your sweet fluids enjoying the various noises and the ones you struggled to keep in, “What a shy flower you are, but be a good girl and let me enjoy you,” he cooed at you, his long tongue licking up and down your slightly then teasing your entrance before plunging it deep into your hole. Your eyes widen at the feeling once again squirming and hips bucking, it’s an odd sensations having his long, flexible muscle so deep inside. You could feel the tip reaching your cervix and not leaving a single part of you unexplored. Mind numbing pleasure of your orgasm building up made your ears ring and you knew you wouldn’t last. But Alastor didn’t seem to mind or even care about your impending orgasm because he didn’t slow down his strides. Mouthful after mouthful of your blood dripped down his tongue and into his mouth he groaned in delight at the taste.

“Darling, I’m not doing this entirely for your pleasure. I’m glad to you grant you some release, do cum as many times as you’d like by all means,” he informs from between suck and licks, “But I’m not stopping until I’ve had my fill,” he growled and went right back to his task. You gasped feeling his teeth grace your soft folds, making you keen and clench around his tongue. You felt his smile widen against you, he did it again. And again and again, his teeth probably nicked you a few times but you at that point didn’t mind, your orgasm is just over the horizon and the pain mixed with the immense pleasure only had your back arching against his tendrils that still held you up. Even your hands came to tangle in his hair and antlers holding on tightly feeling that coil in your abdomen about to snap.

And suddenly with a particular rub of his tongue against the little bundle of nerves inside you, your orgasm crashed over you like a ton of bricks. It was so strong it caused goosebumps to rise across your entire body and scream out in pure, unadulterated pleasure. Alastor groan some curses under his breath as you tug his hair when you cum, sucking feverishly to catch every last drop of your release and bloody. It’s dripping down his chin at this point but he can worry about the bloody mess later. He isn’t even near done with you yet. Your reaction to his administrations and the delectable smell wafting off you in waves now that you’ve finally came are making him even more ravenous than when he first shoved his face between your legs.

“I’m going to drink you dry, my darling. Give me everything, pet.”

ღ a/n: it took me days to be satisfied with this one akdkskald but i had so much fun writing it. so thank you cass <33

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lipid · 1 year

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MEXICO DECRIMINALIZED ABORTION AT A FEDERAL LEVEL TODAY!!!!

The Supreme Court of Justice of the Nation (SCJN) has decriminalized abortion at the federal level throughout the country. This unanimous decision of the highest court obliges federal public health institutions, such as the Mexican Institute of Social Security (IMSS), Institute of Security and Social Services for State Workers (ISSSTE) and Pemex, to offer the service on a free basis. In addition, it indicates the resolution of the Court, in no case may medical personnel be criminalized. This decision is one more step towards the freedom to terminate the pregnancy, after the historical precedent of 2021.

This Tuesday, thanks to an injunction from the feminist organization Gire, the First Chamber of the Court ruled: "The legal system that penalizes abortion in the Federal Penal Code is unconstitutional, since it violates the human rights of women and people with ability to gestate”. This represents several advances, on the one hand, it is not only that abortion cannot be criminalized, but also that federal health institutions must provide the service.

#WOOOOOO #mexico #reproductive rights #abortion

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xmalfoyweasleyx · 4 months

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Lucien - NSFW alphabet

This is the 3th alphabet of my 1,3k followers celebration. This is one of my favourites that I've written :) 18+!! Warning: smut (gifs too)! Let me know if you like the gifs or if you don't like them... PS: Lucien, my dear husband, I love you so much. There should be more of you on this app.

Previous alphabets: Rhys, Cassian

◦◦⋆⋆✧◦◦⋆⋆✧◦◦⋆⋆✧◦◦⋆⋆

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's the sweetest after you've had sex. He grabs a washing cloth and something to eat and drink. He has the most adorable look on his face when he does this for you (one of his love languages is acts of service).

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

You love his hair, the long locks are so beautiful and soft. You love to play with it or braid it. In terms of your sex life and his hair... You constantly have the locks in your hands. You always grip it when he's fucking you or eating you out. Sometimes he has that pleading look on his face, begging you to pull his hair without needing to use any words.

Lucien is obsessed with your legs, he thinks they're beautiful. He strokes them when he's sitting next to you, but he also does it while he's fucking you. It's his way of showing affection. He also likes to put your legs in all sorts of positions where he can easily grab them. This man watches your legs in the most unsubtle way ever when you walk by.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Lucien comes a lot and likes to play with it afterwards. When he comes in you, he fingers it back in. And when he comes on you he licks it off or he makes you lick it off his fingers. That's enough to turn him on again and restart it all (to then again, push it in you). "We can't let it go to waste isn't that right baby?". "I have to make sure you are as full as possible"

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He just wants to hear he's your good boy, the praise makes him go wild. He begs you to say it again and again. The look in his eyes changes immediately when you say that name, he looks so desperate for you :(

"I'm your good boy" or "I'll be good I promise, just touch me baby, please")

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

In terms of places he's fucked? He is experienced. He didn't have that much lovers, but he has fucked girls from the autumn court, men from the spring court,... He had lovers in all courts of Prythian.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Riding him but you're pressed against his chest. He prefers when you ride him when he's sitting on the side of the bed and you're straddling him. He loves regular cow girl too.

69!!!!

Fucking you from behind, but you are laying on your stomach and his full body is on top of you, his chest against your back. This way he can be as close as possible while fucking you hard and fast and whisper filthy things in your ears. I can't help but put a gif in here for this:

Spooning, his face breathing in your neck and hands not leaving your tits

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He is pretty serious but with the right amount of teasing and sarcasm (just a reminder of the first book, love book 1 Lucien)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Carpet matches the drapes yes. He also shaves, cause sometimes he is embarrassed because of the color :( :( :(

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Lucien is very intimate. He always tries to have you as close as possible to him when he fucks you. Your foreheads pressed to each other, his lips over your whole body or his face pressed into your neck.

This man also says 'I love you' a lot during sex, and when you say it, he comes immediately because of the intimacy <3 HE HOLDS YOUR HANDS!! I have to put in another gif for this man:

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Lucien looooves mutual masturbation. Facing each other while you're touching yourselves, staring into your eyes passionately. He just gets so turned on when he sees you moaning and writhing, pleasuring yourself (and he loves to make a remark about how it's not enough because it aren't his fingers, this makes him so smug ugh). "Yes pretty girl, touch yourself for me", "Pretend those fingers are mine, you like to think about that don't you?" he says while tugging on his own cock.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hair pulling. Both ways. He loves to pull your hair when he's fucking you from behind. He is the kind of person who grabs it so messily and intimately, his fingers sprawled out over your whole head, the strands loosely tucked in between his finger.

But yeah, he also loves when you tug his hair. He doesn't have that beautiful long locks for nothing. Like i've said, he always has a pleading look on his face when he wants you to tug, so you always know when to do it. But sometimes you like to wait and make him beg, those eyes are so pretty when he begs. Lucien moans so loud when you eventually pull.

He also has a big praise kink, he needs it, and you need it

Breeding!!! He wants a family, he wants you full of his cum. The first time you begged him to come in you he came so hard, a fraction of his powers showed (the male lit up the whole bedroom with those blinding lights)

And following that... he likes to play with his powers (the fire and the light)

He also loves to rub his cock against your clit and then cum like that on your pussy

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Lucien is basically the mister worldwide of Prythian , he likes to fuck you in all kinds of different places around Prythian. It's like this big challenge he made up for himself. He's already fucked you in the fields of the spring court, on Helion's throne in the day court, in an abandoned alley in Velaris,.. and in a room next to Beron's in the autumn court.

Now he only needs to fuck you in the winter, summer and dawn court and his mission is completed.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Domestic life with you. When you are cooking he gets turned on and grabs your hips while kissing your neck. "You would be such a good mom, maybe I should fuck a baby into you?"

Oddly enough, he gets turned on when he sees you riding a horse. Obviously it reminds him of the way you ride him, bouncing up and down so graciously. But he doesn't dare to admit it because you would tease him if you found out. He's just staring at your body the whole time. "What are you looking at baby?" you ask. "Nothing nothing" he answers, shaking his head.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Even though he likes hair pulling and some spanking, he wouldn't like it when he hurts you too much. Also, things like knife play are not for him (this male has trauma).

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers giving but he loves receiving equally. He gets very turned on when he's eating you out so that's why he loves 69. It feels amazing when he groans into your pussy because of the way you suck him off.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's sensual but more in a fast paced way. He fucks you hard and fast, but it's very passionate.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes, when he is traveling for his emissary business he loves quickies. Against a tree? In a cabin in the woods? In a room in some random High Lord's palace? Yes.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Like I've mentioned, he loves trying out new places. You and him try out new things the whole time, searching for what you both like or dislike.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He goes for many rounds, especially when you're ovulating. He always seems to know when it's that time. Lucien just has to make sure you have as much of his cum in you as possible then.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No, but just because he doesn't know about them. Otherwise he would go crazy and buy all sorts of toys at once, spending tons of money on it. He would come home with a broad smile on his face "You'll never guess what I found, baby" he smirks.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is a sarcastic king and that does make him a tease. More in words than in actions though. When he gets out of the shower: "You like what you see honey?" Or "I'm sure we can get your pretty lips to better use, don't you think bunny?"

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Lucien is loud. And he isn’t shy about it. He just loves to show you how much he enjoys himself, so he moans, groans, grunts,…

Bonus thought: I dreamed about this and it was so wild, I had to share it (there are phones I’m sorry). So you aren’t dating and he’s you’re best friend. You call him up because you need help with some paperwork. YOU KNOW WHAT THE MAN DOES? He picks up, but he talks with heavy breaths and moans. The man is fucking some girl and he still answers you?! I mean, Lu would definitely do this stuff. It’s so hot to hear those heave breaths when he talks to you and he knows very well how much it turns you on. “Omg Lucien what are you doing?” you ask shocked. He just keeps breathing heavily and moans, actikg like nothing’s happening. It makes you so horny and flustered (and jealous cause who’s that other girl?) My lord, this man is so hot and he knows it. Maybe I should just write this out in a separate fic

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You both love reading, so you try to recreate scenes from the books you're currently reading. Sometimes it's just spicy scenes, and he let's you read it while licking your pussy. But you also like to pretend you're characters from the books you always talk about (like role play).

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Lucien's longer than average, but it isn't that notable, just the right size. He genuinely has a pretty dick though. The color is golden brown and it has a big vein on the side. Like, I'm serious, it's really nice. How do I explain this, it's all very symmetrical lol. So yeah, sucking it is addictive ;)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Autumn court men have fire in their blood and fuck like it, right? So he would have a pretty high sex drive. On top of that he's Helion's son… (I don’t need to give more context on that)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He isn’t that sleepy but he loves the cuddle and trace little patterns on your hips. And because of the comfort of it all, he falls asleep easily.

#acotar #lucien x reader #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #pro lucien #lucien #lucien smut #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vandaddy #i love that tag

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funkopersonal · 4 months

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Here's your daily reminder that...

Jews are only 0.2% of the worlds population but...

Jews make up 14% of the World Total and 38% of the United States of America total winners for the Nobel Prize for Literature (source).

Of the 965 individual recipients of the Nobel Prize and the Nobel Memorial Prize in Economic Sciences between 1901 and 2023, at least 214 have been Jews or people with at least one Jewish parent, representing 22% of all recipients. (source)

Jews make up 14% of the total winners of the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction 18% of the total winners of the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry; 53% of the total winners of the Pulitzer Prize for Non-Fiction (source).

Jews make up 39% of the total winners of the Antoinette Perry (Tony) Award for Best Play; 54% of the total winners of the Tony Award for Best Book of a Musical (with 62% of all Composers and 66% of all Lyricists of Best Musical-winning productions being Jewish) (source).

Jews make up 40% of the total winners of the Academy Award (Oscar) for Best Original Screenplay; and 34% of the total winners of the Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay (source).

Although Jews constitute only 3% of the U.S. population...

80% of the nation’s professional comedians are Jewish (source).

90% of American comic book creators are jewish (source)

38% of the recipients of the United States National Medal of Science are Jewish (Source).

Jews are very successful, with educational levels higher than all other U.S. ethnic groups with the exception of Asian Americans, and income levels the highest of all groups. Six out of ten Jewish adults have college degrees, and 41% of Jewish families report a household income of $75,000 or more” (source)

Jews are a minority across the globe. We've been historically opressed and hated. But these key figures from history are all Jewish and loved, yet many don't even know they're jewish (or they don't know these people in the first place!):

Stan Lee (birth name: Stanley Martin Lieber) - An American comic book writer and editor, Former executive vice president and publisher of marvel Comics, creator of iron-man, spider-man, and more.

Albert Einstein - a Theoretical physicist, Received the 1921 Nobel Prize in Physics, developed the theory of relativity and the "worlds most famous equation" (E = mc^2), and more.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg - Former Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States, co-authored the initial law school casebook on sex discrimination, co-founded the Women’s Rights Project at the ACLU in 1972, and more.

Jack Kirby (birth name: Jacob Kurtzberg) - an American comic book artist, co-creator of Captain America, one of the most influential comic book artists

Harry Houdini (birth name: Erich Weisz) - a Hungarian-American escape artist, illusionist, and stunt performer, noted for his escape acts.

Emma Lazarus - An American author remembered for her sonnet "The New Colossus," Inspired by The Statue of Liberty and inscribed on its pedestal as of 1903.

Julius Rosenthal, Lillian Wald, Rabbi Emil G. Hirsch, Stephen Wise, and Henry Moskowitz - Jewish activists that helped form the NAACP along with W.E.B. Dubois, Ida B. Wells-Barnett, and Mary Church Terrell.

Mark Zuckerberg - Founder and CEO of Meta, a businessman who co-founded the social media service Facebook, and within four years became the world’s youngest self-made billionaire Harvard alumni.

Joseph Pulitzer - a politician and newspaper publisher, his endowment to the Columbia University established the Pulitzer Prizes in 1917, he founded the Columbia School of Journalism which opened in 1912.

Jacob William Davis - a Latvian tailor who is credited with inventing modern jeans and who worked with Levi Strauss to patent and mass-produce them, died.

Irving Berlin - drafted at age 30 to write morale-boosting songs for military revues (including “God Bless America”). Many Berlin songs remained popular for decades, including “Puttin’ on the Ritz,” “Cheek to Cheek,” “Anything You Can Do (I Can Do Better),” “There’s No Business Like Show Business,” and two celebrating Christian holidays: “White Christmas” and “Easter Parade.”

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel - received his doctorate in Berlin. He was arrested by the Nazis in 1938, moved to the U.S. in 1940, and became an influential figure in the 1960s, marching with the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. in Selma, Alabama, and speaking out against the Vietnam War.

Elie Wiesel - Romanian-American writer and professor, holocaust survivor, nobel laureate, political activist. Authored 57 books including Night, a work based on his experiences as a Jewish prisoner in the Auschwitz and Buchenwald concentration camps

Bob Dylan - an icon of folk, rock and protest music, won the Nobel Prize in literature for his complex and poetic lyrics.

J. Robert Oppenheimer - ran the Manhattan Project, considered the "father of the atomic Bomb," presented with the Enrico Fermi Award by President Lyndon Johnson.

Betty Friedan - co-founded the National Organization of Women and became its first president, wrote The Feminine Mystique (1963) and helped spark the second wave of feminism.

Gloria Steinem - one of the most prominent feminists of all time, launched Ms. Magazine and co-founded the National Women’s Political Caucus with Bella Abzug, Shirley Chisholm, Betty Friedan and Myrlie Evers-Williams, widow of Medgar Evers.

Sergey Brin - an American businessman best known for co-founding Google with Larry Page, president of Alphabet Inc.

Judith Heumann - a founder of the disability rights movement, led a 26-day sit-in at a federal building in San Francisco. The protest spurred implementation of Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act, a precursor to the Americans with Disabilities Act.

Larry Kramer - co-founded Gay Men’s Health Crisis in response to the AIDS epidemic but was soon ousted over his confrontational activism. He went on to help launch a more strident group, ACT UP, and wrote a critically acclaimed play, The Normal Heart, about the early AIDS years in New York City.

Steven Spielberg - released his critically acclaimed epic film Schindler’s List, based on the true story of a German industrialist who saved Jews during the Holocaust. The movie won seven Oscars and led Spielberg to launch the Shoah Foundation at the University of Southern California, which filmed interviews with 52,000 survivors of the Holocaust and genocides in Nanjing and Rwanda.

Calvin Klein - made designer jeans and the infamous ad starring Brooke Shields revolutionized the fashion industry, sold his company to Phillips-Van Heusen (now PVH) for $430 million. Klein was the first designer to win three consecutive Coty Awards for womenswear.

Daveed Diggs - an American actor, rapper, and singer-songwriter. he originated the dual roles of Marquis de Lafayette and Thomas Jefferson in the musical Hamilton, for which he won a 2016 Tony Award for Best Actor in a Featured Role in a Musical. Along with the main cast of Hamilton, he was awarded a Grammy Award for Best Musical Theater Album in the same year.

And so much more. (a pretty decent list is available here)

Not only that, but the following are all Jewish inventions...

The Teddy Bear - made by Morris and Rose Michtom in honor of Theodore "Teddy" Roosevelt.

The Ballpoint Pen - *the first commercially sucessfull ballpoint pen was made by Lazlo Biro, a Hungarian-Jew, and his brother.

Mobile Phones - made by Martin Cooper, nicknamed the "father of the cellphone", and was born in Chicago to Ukrainian Jewish immigrants.

The Barbie - made by Ruth Marianna Handler, born to Polish-Jewish immigrants.

Power Rangers - made by Haim Saban, a Jewish-Egyptian

Video Games - made by Ralph Baer, a German-Jew

Peeps - made by Sam Born, a Russian-Jewish immigrants who came to the United States in 1909.

Cards Against Humanity - created by a group of Jewish boys from the same high school

Many Superheroes including Superman, Ironman, spider-man, batman, and more!

and more! (an illustrated list available here.)

Conclusion: If you're Jewish, be proud. You come from a long line of successful people. No matter what happened to them, Jews persevered, and they strived for sucess. Be proud of your culture, your history, these are your people. You're Jewish.

(feel free to reblog and add more, or just comment and i'll add it!)

Last Updated: June 25, 1:35 AM EST

#funkowrites #jumblr #jewblr #jewish tumblr #israel solidarity #judaism #jewish #antisemitism #stop antisemitism #op is a proud jew #proud to be jewish #jewish joy #jewish positivity #jew #proud jew #we will persevere

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carriesthewind · 1 year

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The IA's "Open Library" is Not a Library, Yesterday's Lower Court Decision does Not "Hurt Authors," and the Planned Appeal Is (Almost Certainly) NOT a Good Way to Try to Change Bad Law (In Fact, It's More Likely to Make Bad Law Worse)

Ok, so a day later, I'm still mad about this. If anything, I'm even madder. I'm going to write this as a response to the Internet Archive's "The Fight Continues" blogpost, but before we begin, let's get some facts straight:

Copyright law in the United States, especially the law around digital lending, currently sucks. It's really really bad, and anyone with a stake in the game - except the big publishers and e-book services that profit from it - hate it.

That said, copyright law exists as a thing. As I said in a previous post, you *can* try to change it through court cases, but there are certain things you cannot change. And there are certain things you can try to change, but it will be an uphill battle to change them in a positive direction. And notably, as bad as digital lending law is in the U.S., it still could always get worse! And one general rule of impact litigation: if you are trying to change the law, you want to make sure you have the best possible facts. Because the worse your facts are, the worse your case is likely to go.

Yesterday's district court ruling DID NOT CHANGE ANY SUBSTANTIVE COPYRIGHT LAW IN THE U.S. I cannot emphasize that enough. Regardless of whatever you think of the ruling, it was applying already existing law to the facts.

This is because the Internet Archive's "Open Library" absolutely violates existing copyright law. It just does! They broke the law, they had plenty of notice they were breaking the law and harming authors (more on that below) and just think the law shouldn't apply because they don't like it.

The Internet Archive's "Open Library" is not a library. Some big ways it differs:

While it pretends to have a one-to-one owned-to-loaned ratio, as the opinion granting the publisher's motion for summary judgement notes, IA concedes that it allows "partner libraries" to add books to its collection and then doesn't check (and has no way of checking) if the book is out of circulation at the "partner library" at the same time it's being "checked out" of the Open Library. In other words, it's like if you took a book, scanned the pages, and then gave the scans to your friend who then loaned the scans out to other people but totally promised they were only lending the scans to one person at a time so it's basically like there is still just one copy! And meanwhile you still own, are reading, and lending out the physical copy of the book. Except instead of one book, they were doing this on a massive scale. NO, THAT'S JUST THEFT.*

Speaking of which, the "Open Library" didn't keep that promise! Their "Emergency Library" just let everyone borrow as many copies at a time as they could! Again, THAT'S JUST THEFT.

Like I'm sorry if you don't like the idea of copyright at all: right now, we live in a capitalist system where authors need to be paid for their work in order to, like, not die. If you take their work, scan it into your computer, and give it away for free to anyone and everyone, THAT'S JUST THEFT.

Also, most authors love libraries! Libraries allow more people to access their books while not substantially impacting their revenue and not impacting their rights! AUTHORS - not just publishers, authors - DO NOT LIKE AI'S "OPEN LIBRARY." Why haven't authors sued to stop this before, why is this the publishers suing? From the above letter: "Even simple copyright lawsuits must be brought in federal court, and often cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. A challenge to the Internet Archive could easily cost millions." Publishers have deep pockets that authors and authors' groups don't. Also, authors who object to AI stealing their work are frequently subject to harassment.

If IA won this case, the new law that would be made is this: it would be legal to steal an author's works.

*I'm using "theft" and "steal" instead of "piracy" throughout this write-up to make it clear what this is. "Pirating books" is just stealing them.

So to sum up the facts above: copyright law in the U.S. sucks, but it exists. Attempting to change it for the better through the court system would be very difficult. Even then, changing the law for the better would likely require a case with good facts. Unfortunately, the law could also change for the worse. Yesterday's ruling did not change any law. The facts in this case are very bad, because the IA absolutely violated copyright law. That is in part because the IA's "Open Library" is not a library; they just steal books. Many (if not most) authors and author's groups don't like that IA is stealing from them. If IA won this case, that victory would mean that anyone was allowed to steal an author's works.

*deep breath*

Ok, let's turn to the IA's statement, "The Fight Continues":

"Today’s lower court decision in Hachette v. Internet Archive is a blow to all libraries and the communities we serve."

The Internet Archive is not a library.

No it's not. It is a blow to the Internet Archive, specifically, because you broke the law and it ruled you broke the law. As stated above, it does not change anything with regard to copyright, including digital copyright, law in the U.S., and therefore does not impact libraries or the communities they serve. If you appeal this ruling, as you have stated you intend to, and the law does change for the worse (which is always a risk of appeal, and a risk that gets worse when you have bad facts), THEN libraries might be affected.

"This decision impacts libraries across the US who rely on controlled digital lending to connect their patrons with books online."

I mean yes, in the sense that "controlled digital lending" isn't normal e-book lending. It's the thing you made up where you steal books and illegally redistribute them.

This genuinely sucks for libraries and communities that don't have other ways of accessing digital books because the current copyright scheme sucks so bad! Real libraries are doing things to try to help, and not just steal from authors! More on that below!

"It hurts authors by saying that unfair licensing models are the only way their books can be read online."

OH GO FUCK YOURSELVES

Ok this line, this line right here? That is honestly why I wrote this whole thing.

How DARE you cloak your theft in the real struggles authors face with unfair licensing models. How DARE you pretend you are on the side of authors when you are stealing their works, and they have made it quite clear that they would like you to stop, please. And how DARE you frame it in this "for exposure" bullcrap that ignores the real struggles that authors have to eat, to get healthcare, to get any sort of fair pay and wages for their work, and instead pretend that all authors should care about is whether or not their books can be read online.

And bluntly? If you - not IA, YOU, tumblr user reading this - if you shared this bullcrap statement and told people to donate money to the IA because of this? If you told people they should steal more books in response (because it's the publishers fault, ignore the real authors who are actually harmed)? How DARE you. How DARE you pretend to be on the side of authors and writers.

"And it holds back access to information in the digital age, harming all readers, everywhere."

Except for those readers who are also authors, and need to eat.

And readers who want to read books that will never get written if authors can't write (because they need to eat).

And also, no it doesn't, because it doesn't change the law. It just applies the law that already exists to you. Because you are not above the law.

"But it’s not over—we will keep fighting for the traditional right of libraries to own, lend, and preserve books."

You are not a library.

You were not (and are not) fighting for "the traditional right of libraries." Plenty of other organizations are fighting against bad copyright law in the U.S. This court case, however, was literally just about you stealing books.

Like I cannot emphasize enough that you were just stealing and you got caught.

"We will be appealing the judgment and encourage everyone to come together as a community to support libraries against this attack by corporate publishers."

You aren't a library.

Fuck you for borrowing the (justified) hatred of corporate publishers to paper over your bad actions.

Does "coming together as a community to support libraries against this attack" mean giving you money, as suggested by the calls to action at the bottom of this page? Because you aren't a library.

"We will continue our work as a library."

You aren't a library.

"This case does not challenge many of the services we provide with digitized books including interlibrary loan, citation linking, access for the print-disabled, text and data mining, purchasing ebooks, and ongoing donation and preservation of books."

First, and most important: these are all uncritically good and important things that the IA does! Despite the rest of this post, I am really really glad the IA exists, that it is doing these things, and I hope that it will continue to do this things!

You are correct that this case does not challenge those services! Because those services aren't just stealing books from authors, which is what you were doing, which is what this case is actually about!

I'm skipping the statement from Brewster Kahle because it's just more of the same. The statement then invites you to Take Action! by donating to IA and positing themselves as standing up for libraries! (They are not a library.)

But real libraries and librarians are actually fighting the good fight over lack of access to materials, especially digital materials and bad laws, and you can support them!

If you actually do want to "come together as a community to support libraries," and support digital access, may I suggest instead donating to The Brooklyn Public Library's Books Unbanned program?:

https://www.bklynlibrary.org/books-unbanned

While they aren't directly challenging bad copyright law, they are directly fighting back against laws that are much more actively and materially impact people's access to books, including providing free e-book and database access to everyone in the U.S. age 13-21. It's a great and important program, and your donations can really help!

#libraries #author's rights #internet archive

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fairuzfan · 3 months

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During an appearance at Vassar College in early February, controversial New York Times Jerusalem bureau chief Ethan Bronner was asked about the ongoing evictions of Palestinian families from homes in East Jerusalem which Israel occupied in 1967. Israeli courts have ruled that Jewish settlers could take over some Palestinian homes on the grounds that Jews held title to the properties before Israel was established in 1948.

Bronner was concerned, but not only about Palestinians being made homeless in Israel’s relentless drive to Judaize their city; he was also worried about properties in his West Jerusalem neighborhood, including the building he lives in, partially owned by The New York Times, that was the home of Palestinians made refugees in 1948. Facts about The New York Times’ acquisition of this property are revealed for the first time in this article.

“One of the things that is most worrying not just the Left but a lot of people in Israel about this decision is if the courts in Israel are going to start recognizing property ownership from before the State [of Israel was founded],” Bronner said according to a transcript made by independent reporter Philip Weiss who maintains the blog Mondoweiss.net.

Bronner added, “I think the Palestinians are going to have a fairly big case. I for example live in West Jerusalem. My entire neighborhood was Palestinian before 1948.”

The New York Times-owned property Bronner occupies in the prestigious Qatamon neighborhood, was once the home of Hasan Karmi, a distinguished BBC Arabic Service broadcaster and scholar (1905-2007). Karmi was forced to flee with his family in 1948 as Zionist militias occupied western Jerusalem’s Arab neighborhoods. His was one of an estimated 10,000 Palestinian homes in West Jerusalem that Jews took over that year.

The New York Times bought the property in 1984 in a transaction overseen by columnist Thomas Friedman who was then just beginning his four-year term as Jerusalem bureau chief.

Hasan Karmi’s daughter, Ghada, a physician and well-known author who lives in the United Kingdom, discovered that The New York Times was in – or rather on top of – her childhood home in 2005, when she was working temporarily in Ramallah. One day Karmi received a call from Steven Erlanger, then The New York Times Jerusalem bureau chief, who had just read her 2002 memoir In Search of Fatima.

Karmi recalled in a 15 May 2008 interview on Democracy Now! that Erlanger told her, “I have read your marvelous memoir, and, do you know, I think I’m living above your old house … From the description in your book it must be the same place” (“Conversation with Palestinian Writer and Doctor Ghada Karmi”).

At Erlanger’s invitation, Karmi visited, but did not find the elegant one-story stone house her family had moved into in 1938, that was typical of the homes middle- and upper-class Arabs began to build in Jerusalem suburbs like Qatamon, Talbiya, Baqa, Romema or Lifta toward the end of the 19th century. The original house was still there, but at some point after 1948 two upper stories had been built.

Erlanger, responding to questions posed by The Electronic Intifada via email, described the residence as “built over the Karmi family house – on its air rights, if you like. The [New York Times] is not in [the Karmi] house.” Erlanger described the building as having an “unbroken” facade but that it consisted of “two residences, two ownerships, two heating systems,” and a separate entrance for the upper levels reached via an external staircase on the side.

Questions The Electronic Intifada sent to Thomas Friedman about the purchase of the property were answered by David E. McCraw, Vice President and Assistant General Counsel for the newspaper, who wrote that the original Karmi house itself “was never owned even partly by The Times. The Times purchased in the 1980s a portion of the building that had been constructed above it in the late 1970s.” The purchase was made from “a Canadian family that had bought them from the original builders of the apartment.”

McCraw acknowledged in a follow-up conversation that as a general principle of property law, the “air rights” of a property – the right to build on top of it or use (and access) the space above it – belong to the owner of the ground.

Exiled from Qatamon

Ghada Karmi standing by the front door of her childhood home in Jerusalem’s Qatamon neighborhood in 2005. (Steven Erlanger)

Hasan Karmi hailed originally from Tulkarem, in what is now the northern West Bank. In 1938, he moved his family to Jerusalem to take up a job in the education department of the British-run Palestine Mandate government. Ghada – born around November 1939 (the exact date is unknown because her birth certificate along with all the family’s records, photographs, furniture, personal possessions and an extensive library were lost with the house) – has vivid memories of a happy childhood in what was a well-to-do mixed neighborhood of Arab Christians and Muslims, foreigners and a few Jewish families. The neighbors with whom her parents socialized and with whose children the young Ghada and her siblings played included the Tubbeh, Jouzeh, Wahbeh and Khayyat families. There was also a Jewish family called Kramer, whose father belonged to the Haganah, the Zionist militia that became the Israeli army after May 1948.

Karmi describes the house at length in her memoir – but she told The Electronic Intifada her fondest memories were of the tree-filled garden where she spent much time playing with her brother and sister and the family dog Rex. The lemon and olive trees she remembers are still there, Erlanger noted to The Electronic Intifada.

In the mid-1940s, the lively Qatamon social life gave way to terror as the dark clouds of what would come to be known as the Nakba approached. Violence broke out all over Jerusalem after the UN’s devastating recommendation to partition Palestine without giving its people any say in the matter. Spontaneous riots by Arabs were followed by organized violence from Zionist groups and mutual retaliatory attacks that claimed lives from both communities. This climate provided the pretext for the Haganah’s premeditated campaign to seize Jerusalem.

Poorly armed and disorganized Arab irregulars, who had nevertheless succeeded in disrupting Zionist supply convoys to Jerusalem, proved no match for highly-trained and well-armed Zionist militias which, on the orders of David Ben-Gurion, began a well-planned campaign to conquer the western parts of the city. The occupation of western Jerusalem and some 40 villages in its vicinity was executed as part of the Haganah’s “Plan Dalet.” These events are well documented in books including Benny Morris’ The birth of the Palestinian refugee problem, 1947-1949 (1987), Walid Khalidi’s (ed.) All That Remains: The Palestinian Villages Occupied and Depopulated by Israel in 1948 (1992), Salim Tamari’s (ed.) Jerusalem 1948: The Arab Neighborhoods and their Fate in the War (1999) and Ilan Pappe’s The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine (2006).

Zionist militias used frequent bombings of Arab civilians to terrorize residents into fleeing. These attacks were amplified by posters and warnings broadcast over loudspeakers that those choosing to remain behind would share the fate of those killed in atrocities.

Karmi wrote that one night in November 1947, their neighbor Kramer came to see her father and said, “I have come to tell you at some risk to myself to take your family and leave Jerusalem as soon as possible …. Please believe me, it is not safe here.” Many Qatamon families left after the Zionist bombing of the nearby Semiramis Hotel, which killed 26 civilians including the Spanish consul-general, on the night of 4-5 January 1948.

The Karmis however held on, and Ghada records in her memoir her mother steadfastly saying, “The Jews are not going to drive me out of my house … Others may go if they like, but we’re not giving in.”

Toward the end of April, bombardment by Zionist militias against virtually undefended Arab areas became so heavy, and the terror generated by the Deir Yassin massacre earlier that month so intense, that the Karmis relented and departed by taxi for Damascus, via Amman, with nothing but a few clothes. Their intention was to bring the children to safety at their maternal grandparents’ house while the adults would return home to Jerusalem. A few days after reaching Damascus the elder Karmis tried to return to Jerusalem but were unable to do so. So began the family’s exile that continues to this day.

As Arabs left their homes, Jews were moved in by the Haganah. “While the cleansing of Qatamon went on,” Itzhak Levy, the head of Haganah intelligence in Jerusalem recalled, “pillage and robbery began. Soldiers and citizens took part in it. They broke into the houses and took from them furniture, clothing, electric equipment and food” (quoted in Pappe, p.99). Meron Benvenisti, an Israeli scholar and former deputy mayor of Jerusalem, wrote in his book Sacred Landscape of personally witnessing the “looting of Arab homes in Qatamon” as a boy. Palestinians also lost art work, financial instruments and – like the Karmis – irreplaceable family records, as the fabric of a society and a way of life were destroyed.

Jerusalem return denied

The Karmis’ story is a variation of what happened to tens of thousands of Jerusalem-area Palestinians during the Nakba, in which approximately 750,000 Palestinians were expelled or fled from their homes all over the country and never allowed to return. (In my book One Country I describe the departure under similar circumstances of my mother’s family from Lifta-Romema.)

As of 1997, there were 84,000 living West Jerusalem refugees (23,000 born before 1948), according to Tamari. Half lived in the West Bank, many just miles from their original homes, but thousands of others were spread across Jordan, Lebanon, Syria and the Gaza Strip.

Arab property is well-documented through administrative and UN records, but tracing the fate of an individual house or proving title is extremely difficult if not impossible for Palestinians scattered, exiled and forbidden from returning home. Some, who have foreign passports that allowed them to make brief visits, have attempted to locate their family properties. In recent years a small Israeli group called Zochrot (Remembering) has even joined in – taking some displaced Palestinians back to their original villages and homes, whose traces Israel often made deliberate efforts to conceal or destroy. But such activities are not welcomed by most Israeli Jews still in denial about their state’s genesis.

Ghada Karmi recalls an earlier attempt to revisit her family home in 1998. The residents were unwelcoming and would not give her the phone number of the landlord, though a plaque outside bore the name “Ben-Porat.”

The owner of the original, lower-level house at the time The New York Times bought the upper levels was Yoram Ben-Porat, an economics professor who became president of the Hebrew University and was killed with his wife and young son in a road accident in October 1992. According to Erlanger, the house remained with heirs from the Ben-Porat family who rented it out until it was sold in 2005 to an Israeli couple who did some remodeling. It is unknown when the Ben-Porats acquired the house or if they were the ones who had the upper levels built.

During Karmi’s 2005 visit, Erlanger invited her to see his part of the house and introduced her to the Israeli tenants in the lower level who gave her free access while Erlanger took photographs. For Karmi, revisiting the house was disconcerting. She described to The Electronic Intifada its occupants as “Ashkenazi Jewish Israelis, liberals, nice people who wanted to be nice.” She felt like asking them, “how can you live here knowing this is an Arab house, knowing this was once owned by Arabs, what goes through your mind?” But, she explained, “in the way people have of not wanting to upset people who appear to be nice, I didn’t say anything.”

The New York Times

In the early years after their original residents left, many of the former Arab neighborhoods were run down. But in the 1970s, wealthier Israeli Jews began to gentrify them and acquiring an old Arab house became a status symbol. Today, Israeli real estate agencies list even small apartments in Qatamon for hundreds of thousands of dollars or more, and house prices can run into the millions. In Jerusalem, such homes have become popular especially with wealthy American Jews, according to Pappe. The New York Times did not disclose what it paid for the Qatamon property.

It was a curious decision for The New York Times to have purchased part of what must obviously have been property with – at the very least – a political, moral and legal cloud over its title. Asked whether The New York Times or Friedman had made any effort to learn the history of the property, the newspaper responded, “Neither The Times nor Mr. Friedman knew who owned the original ground floor prior to 1948.”

As Friedman prepared to make the move to Jerusalem from Beirut where he was covering the Lebanon war in the early 1980s, The Times hired an Israeli real estate agent to help him locate a home. According to McCraw, Friedman’s wife Ann went ahead to Jerusalem and looked at properties “and she, working with the agent, made the selection for The Times.” During the process Friedman visited Jerusalem and looked at properties as well, a fact he mentions in his book From Beirut to Jerusalem. By the time the property was selected, Friedman had moved permanently to Jerusalem and oversaw the closing.

The choice of the Qatamon property – over several modern apartments that the real estate agent also showed – makes The New York Times a protagonist and interested party in one of the most difficult aspects of the Palestine conflict: the property and refugee rights of Palestinians that Israel has adamantly denied. It also raises interesting questions about what such choices have on news coverage – with which the newspaper itself has had to grapple.

In 2002, an Electronic Intifada article partly attributed the pervasive underreporting of Israeli violence against Palestinians to “a structural geographic bias” – the fact that “most US news organizations who have reporters on the ground base them in Tel Aviv or west Jerusalem, very far from the places where Palestinians are being killed and bombarded on a daily basis” ( Michael Brown and Ali Abunimah, “Killings of dozens once again called ‘period of calm’ by US media, 20 September 2002).

In 2005, The New York Times’ then Public Editor Daniel Okrent echoed this criticism, writing:

“The Times, like virtually every American news organization, maintains its bureau in West Jerusalem. Its reporters and their families shop in the same markets, walk the same streets and sit in the same cafes that have long been at risk of terrorist attack. Some advocates of the Palestinian cause call this ‘structural geographic bias.’” (“The Hottest Button: How The Times Covers Israel and Palestine,” 24 April 2005).

Okrent recommended that in order to broaden the view of the newspaper’s reporters, it should locate a correspondent in Ramallah or Gaza – where she or he would share the daily experiences, concerns and risks of Palestinians. This advice went unheeded, just as Executive Editor Bill Keller recently publicly rejected the advice of the current public editor that current Jerusalem Bureau Chief Ethan Bronner should be reassigned because of the conflict of interest created by Bronner’s son’s voluntary enlistment in the Israeli army.

Thus, in a sense, Bronner’s structural and personal identification with Israel has become complete: when the younger Bronner joins army attacks in Gaza, fires tear gas canisters or live bullets at nonviolent demonstrators trying to save their land from confiscation in West Bank villages, or conducts night arrest raids in Ramallah or Nablus – as he may well be ordered to do – his father will root for him, worry about him, perhaps hope that his enemies will fall in place of his son, as any Israeli parent would. And on weekends, the elder Bronner will await his soldier-son’s homecoming to a property whose true heirs live every day, like millions of Palestinians, with the unacknowledged trauma, and enduring injustice of dispossession and exile.

#palestine #palestine history

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probablyasocialecologist · 12 days

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Libraries have traditionally operated on a basic premise: Once they purchase a book, they can lend it out to patrons as much (or as little) as they like. Library copies often come from publishers, but they can also come from donations, used book sales, or other libraries. However the library obtains the book, once the library legally owns it, it is theirs to lend as they see fit. Not so for digital books. To make licensed e-books available to patrons, libraries have to pay publishers multiple times over. First, they must subscribe (for a fee) to aggregator platforms such as Overdrive. Aggregators, like streaming services such as HBO’s Max, have total control over adding or removing content from their catalogue. Content can be removed at any time, for any reason, without input from your local library. The decision happens not at the community level but at the corporate one, thousands of miles from the patrons affected. Then libraries must purchase each individual copy of each individual title that they want to offer as an e-book. These e-book copies are not only priced at a steep markup—up to 300% over consumer retail—but are also time- and loan-limited, meaning the files self-destruct after a certain number of loans. The library then needs to repurchase the same book, at a new price, in order to keep it in stock. This upending of the traditional order puts massive financial strain on libraries and the taxpayers that fund them. It also opens up a world of privacy concerns; while libraries are restricted in the reader data they can collect and share, private companies are under no such obligation. Some libraries have turned to another solution: controlled digital lending, or CDL, a process by which a library scans the physical books it already has in its collection, makes secure digital copies, and lends those out on a one-to-one “owned to loaned” ratio. The Internet Archive was an early pioneer of this technique. When the digital copy is loaned, the physical copy is sequestered from borrowing; when the physical copy is checked out, the digital copy becomes unavailable. The benefits to libraries are obvious; delicate books can be circulated without fear of damage, volumes can be moved off-site for facilities work without interrupting patron access, and older and endangered works become searchable and can get a second chance at life. Library patrons, who fund their local library’s purchases with their tax dollars, also benefit from the ability to freely access the books. Publishers are, unfortunately, not a fan of this model, and in 2020 four of them sued the Internet Archive over its CDL program. The suit ultimately focused on the Internet Archive’s lending of 127 books that were already commercially available through licensed aggregators. The publisher plaintiffs accused the Internet Archive of mass copyright infringement, while the Internet Archive argued that its digitization and lending program was a fair use. The trial court sided with the publishers, and on September 4, the Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit reaffirmed that decision with some alterations to the underlying reasoning. This decision harms libraries. It locks them into an e-book ecosystem designed to extract as much money as possible while harvesting (and reselling) reader data en masse. It leaves local communities’ reading habits at the mercy of curatorial decisions made by four dominant publishing companies thousands of miles away. It steers Americans away from one of the few remaining bastions of privacy protection and funnels them into a surveillance ecosystem that, like Big Tech, becomes more dangerous with each passing data breach. And by increasing the price for access to knowledge, it puts up even more barriers between underserved communities and the American dream.

11 September 2024

#books #library #libraries #internet archive #ebooks

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 6 months

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Three. Four. Five. || Toxic!Husband!Price

For @glitterypirateduck's “O, Captain!” writing challenge! I used prompts:

30. "I hate you but if anything happened to you I'd burn the world" vibe.;

42. The story spans over a period of 10 or more years;

78. Give us a "That's my Wife!" moment.

Rating: E Words: 3.3K cw: toxic couple, VERY toxic, insults, death wishes, smut fade to black, pregnancy. Tags: f!reader, you/your pronouns but no Y/N, miilitary/court martial inaccuracies, very bad family dynamics?, dark humour??. Summary: John and Reader are in the worst fucking marriage ever. A collection of moments, dialogues and scenes from their terrible relationship. a/n: They are SO fucking toxic and dumb, I cannot- This is also very different from the stuff I usually write. This is ALSO not particularly angsty, more so dark humour.

There was a time when you loved John Price.

With all your heart, all your soul (and all your pussy).

That time was when you were young.

Ages 14 to 21, you loved him. He was your first kiss, your first time. High school sweethearts, you supported him through the academy, he supported you when you went to university.

You stayed together through his first and second deployments. It was like an old-timey WW2 romance.

So many letters exchanged back and forth. All lovey-dovey, with faint pen ink and smudged blotches on the pages as you made plans for the future.

Phone calls with spotty service and loads of static, only five minutes per soldier, 5 minutes which he’d spend only ever spend talking to you, asking you to relay any other messages to his mum, dad, siblings so he wouldn’t have to hang up with you.

Polaroids clipped on the inside of envelopes which he would then slip into the breast pocket of his shirt, keeping you over his heart… one he’d often pull out and look at during transpo, thumbs tracing your eternal smile.

Polaroids of yours, a bit more risqué, which he would keep tucked into a journal under his pillow, for his eyes only.

John would walk around overseas with a smile on his lips after getting a letter or a call from you, brag to his teammates about his “bird back home”, never going out to bars to find one night stands like they did…

But sometime after his second deployment and joining the SAS, the puppy love that had lasted for years started to dwindle.

Slowly but surely, you found that you were both growing distant.

You assumed you were both growing a bit ‘comfortable’, perhaps complacent… like all relationships tend to get after a while.

By that time, John and you had already moved in together and you were no longer consistently alone for months at a time waiting for him to return from deployment. You blamed it on that. Plus, you’d been together for years by then!

But it felt different. There was distance, emotional and physical. Whenever he cuddled up to you, you felt cold and so did he. The kisses to your forehead were meaningless, the dinners at home eerily silent.

And between the distance and the inability to make proper plans, proper dates, celebrate milestones together, forgotten anniversaries, overlooked birthdays… It turned into arguments.

And one argument turned to three, to five, to seven… hundred.

You found yourself growing bitter, angry, hateful.

It wasn’t a sudden shift or anything.

Not like you woke up one day and the one thought in your head was “I hate him”...

But you remember hating him longer than you ever loved him.

You tried breaking up. And failed.

Some… bastardised feeling of guilt came to the forefront of both your minds at the idea of throwing away 5 6 7 8 9 10 years together, and giving up on your first love… and maybe even fear of having to start anew with someone else.

So, you simply continued going through the motions. You got engaged, big shiny rock on your finger, all big smile, but no tears came when he proposed. Your families were ecstatic, not quite able to see through the thinly veiled deceit.

For the wedding, you pulled out all the stops, stressed yourself out preparing the ceremony and reception with the women in your family (and his! His mother and sister were so happy that John was getting married!), going wedding dress shopping…

You had a beautiful ceremony, John wearing his full dress suit, army green, with the beige SAS beret. You were both 27, and together for 13 years.

Then, came the honeymoon, which was cut short. Not that it was a true honeymoon. Just three days in a coastal town in Northern France, having to be within a day's drive of Hereford lest he get called out for a sudden mission, which he was.

Not that you expected any different from him. So the distance continued growing, as did the arguments.

You hated him. He hated you.

Then came the predictable “So, when can we expect some grandkids?”. You put it off for a couple more years, blaming it on your high-priority careers, the law and the military, so similar and so different; his lack of time at home and how regrettable it’d be for you to be alone through the pregnancy; the want to be ‘more present’ for the future kids, needing to wait for things to settle down a bit more…

You’d been together for so long at that point, 15 years under your belt, starkly aware that neither of you is going anywhere. The world keeps spinning and your relationship hasn't ended. Fuck it, might as well go for it.

And now here you are.

It’s been eighteen years since you met. Aged 32, you no longer have arguments, you have throwdowns. You pull out every weapon in your arsenal. Neither of you plays nice.

Insults are traded often. Death wishes even more so. And, more often than not, they’re delivered with such a deadpan nonchalance that you’re sure people would think you both psychopaths.

“Going on a mission. ‘ll be back in a few days.”

“‘Kay, hope you die.”

“So do I.”

“Just had a fender bender with a stupid bloke. The car’s at the shop. Taking an uber to the base to get your car.”

“Okay. Shame you didn’t die a fiery death.”

“Don’t remind me, already cried about it.”

"I'm getting discharged."

"Why?"

"Shot."

"And it couldn't have killed you?"

“Can you get out of the damn toilet? I’m bleeding.”

“Period, accident, or just part of your satanic rituals?”

“Period.”

“Tough luck. Hope you bleed out.”

It never gets physical, never violent. John would rather die than lay a hand on you and you’d never DARE lay one on him. It’s just a lot of yelling, a lot of insulting, a lot of throwing things around, and, especially, a lot of revenge plans being executed to drive each other crazy.

Like recently. You found out John had gotten a grey-haired wig about the same length and texture as your hair, and has been snipping off a few hairs at a time, planting them around the house to blame you for leaving your hair everywhere, while simultaneously making you feel like you’re going grey. So, you put grey hair box dye in his shampoo and beard oil, to make him think he’s going grey.

Or three months ago, when you replaced all your lightbulbs with dimmer ones and lowered the brightness on all electronics, to make him think his eyesight was starting to go bad. You drove him so mad that he had voluntarily signed up for sniper assessments because he was worried he’d become a liability for the team.

Or eight months ago, when John had to return home in the middle of the day wearing a ruined uniform and just about ready to blow smoke out of his ears, having ripped holes in the uniform midway through a meeting all because 2 or so weeks prior you had painstakingly undone part of the stitching on it after an argument, and that had resulted in him baring his hairy thighs and armpits to a boardroom full of officers.

It’s bad. Very bad. You’ve had your windows and doors insulated to make sure the neighbors don’t hear your screaming matches and call the cops on the “domestic violence” happening next door.

You probably shouldn’t have kids with this man. And yet-

He drives you insane.

And you’ve TRIED to fix it! You did. Marriage counseling, rage rooms, axe-throwing, paintball matches, yoga, meditation.… Nothing worked! In fact, it only infuriated you more because:

“You’ve got a tactical advantage, you need to play with a handicap!”

“Tough luck, sweetheart. Get good or get shot!”.

“You can throw harder than that.”

“Oh, I’ll show ya throwing hard, you gobshite!”

“Okay, when are you planning to start?”

“My back hurts-”

“Because you’re getting old.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m just telling you the truth. Face it, John, if the downward dog hurts your back, then you’re old.”

“Can you breathe any louder?”

“Yes, I can. Wanna see?”

“Just shut up. I can’t hear myself think.”

“Not much to hear either way, pretty hollow in there.”

“I hate you.”

“Feeling’s mutual, sweetness.”

There are only three occasions when you’re not actively at each other’s throats. Other, then, of course, when John’s working, especially when he’s overseas. You can’t fight if he’s both a) not home and b) unreachable via calls or texts or e-mails.

When you need a favor from the other, something you can’t quite do, or that falls in the other’s ‘jurisdiction’ in house chores.

“The washing machine’s leaking.”

“Turn off the water main, I’ll go check in a sec.”

“Mkay.”

“Here. Popped a button.”

“I don’t have any more army green thread.”

“Then use brown or black or whatever.”

“Where are your car keys?”

“What for?”

“Going to get it washed and detailed.”

“My purse.”

“You’re not gonna wear that, are you?”

“Why?”

“Besides the fact that it’s wrinkly? That’s a ‘house’ shirt, not a ‘going out’ shirt. Wear this one instead.”

2. When you’re both complaining or dealing with an outside force, a 3rd party, together.

"Excuse me, hi, I'm sending this back it's not cooked the way I asked."

"Ma'am that's exactly what you-"

"Are you calling my wife a liar?"

“Oh, fuck no. Why the fuck is he winning the Great British Bake Off?"

"Hm? Oh- oh! Yeah, why the fuck is he winning?"

“Bloody hell, he rolled his pastry too thin and had watery pie filling-”

“Wankers. This is not fair.”

“John. John!”

“What?”

“Look-”

“Blood hell, he’s back early-”

“Yeah and her boytoy’s car still there. They’re definitely still going at it.”

“Oh, this is going to be fun.”

“Excuse me! Hey, excuse me! Pick up after your bloody dog! NO, don’t you start with me, you keep leaving your dog’s shite right by our garden, don’t you see the sign my husband’s posted up?! Pick it up or I’ll do it and then drop it in your garden.”

3. During sex.

Marching into the bedroom after breakfast, you find John combing through his hair in the bathroom mirror. The room is steamy from the hot shower he just took.

“Take your trousers off. I’m ovulating.” You warn him as you wave your phone in the air, showing off the period tracking app.

“I literally just showered.” John replies as you’re already shrugging off your robe and pajamas.

“Well, believe or not, I don’t control my ovaries, John.” You reply. “Now take your trousers off.”

“Already on it.” He replies as he already starts taking off his shirt and sweatpants, leaving them on a pile on the floor, before his boxer briefs follow suit.

His hand palms his cock as you’re getting comfortable on the bed, tugging on it lightly as he watches your fingers do the same between your legs.

“Can we try to enjoy it this time?” He asks you in earnest.

“Sure.” You reply simply. “Been a while since we’ve had proper sex and not…”

“Not a breeding session?” He quips as he kneels on the bed between your parted thighs. His hand replaces yours and he starts rubbing your clit for you.

“Shut it…” You quip, while your own hand wraps around his cock, stroking it slowly. John lowers himself onto you and his lips slowly brush against yours before he kisses you.

No, as it turns out… There are actually four occasions when you’re not actively at each other’s throats:

4. The Kid

In a day like any other, you’re lying in bed, reading a book. It’s a lazy Sunday morning, your big, round belly feeling particularly heavy. You’ve stolen every other pillow in the house to try and find some comfort, which you fail remarkably at.

“I think I’m going grey.” John states to no one in particular.

He’s in the en-suite bathroom, applying beard oil across his mutton chops like he tends to do, about three times a week.

“You are.” You remark in a bored, dismissive tone as you read a book in bed.

“That’s not funny. I’m not that old.”

“You’re getting up there.”

“Look who’s talking, we’re the same age.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Jonathan?”

“It means you’re there yourself, darling.”

Raising your eyes from the book in your hands, the bottom of which rests atop your pregnant belly, you cock a brow at your ‘beloved’ husband.

“And this is coming from Santa Claus?” You retort swiftly.

John peeks his head out of the bathroom door to look at you. “You think you’ve got a leg to stand on, you crone?”

Grunting under your breath, you glare at him, and he glares at you, complete silence in the bedroom.

There’s something in that face of his, the look in his eyes, those STUPID fucking mutton chops that you’ve told him to shave and he refuses…

Grabbing your book and rolling it into a cylinder, you hurl it at him, putting as much force behind your arm as you possibly can. It misses the mark, but only because he had the presence of mind to duck.

“You’re such a fuckin’ knobhead!” You insult him, tongue dripping with bitterness.

“Wel, not like I can be anything else, really, when I’m married to such a raging cunt.” He retorts.

“OH FUCK YOU!” You retort.

“ALREADY AM MORE THAN FUCKED, SPENDING THE REST OF MY LIFE WITH YOU.”

“OH, PLEASE, YOU’RE MORE MARRIED TO YOUR BLOODY GUN THAN YOU ARE TO ME!”

“YEAH CAUSE AT LEAST MY GUN DOESN’T DRIVE ME FUCKING MENTAL!”

“OH PISS OFF!” You shout, your face twisting with a scowl.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be stressing yourself out like this. It’s not good for your blood pressure. Or for John Junior.”

“First of all, it’s not gonna be a boy. Secondly, even if it is a boy, we’re not naming him after you. And thirdly, how about you die, then I won’t get stressed.”

“And why would I do that, when I can stay right here, perfectly alive and healthy, and watch you give birth to John Junior, and have the pleasure of rubbing a ‘I told you so’ right in your face?”

“Oh fuck you. It’s not going to happen.” You sulk and cross your arms over your chest, leaning back against your mountain of pillows.

“Someone doesn’t like the idea of having a son that takes after me, hm??” John teases as he comes up to the bed, a brow cocked.

You trail him with your eyes as he sits next to you on the bed. “Absolutely not. I wanna have a child I actually am able to love, and not one that I have to lie to.”

“A mother’s love knows no bounds, huh? What a load of crap.” John quips.

“Oh, that’s 100% true. I love this baby to bits already, but if it takes after you… I’ll probably die.”

“Good.” John remarks, causing you to roll your eyss. “Much better than if our child takes after you. Spawn of Satan, he would be.” John’s hand slides up your leg and slowly cups your swollen stomach.

“I should probably address the fact you just called our child ‘Satan’s spawn’, but I’m more concerned over the fact you keep calling the baby a ‘son’.” You murmur as you uncross your arms and watch him caress your skin.

“I feel like it’s a boy, I don’t know what to tell you.” He replies as his calloused fingers drag over the stretch marks and linea nigra on your stomach.

“What if it’s a girl?”

“What about it?”

“I’ve seen enough men online getting pissy over havin’ a daughter.” You quip and cock a brow up, looking him in the eyes.

John’s eyes lock onto yours. “Not me.” Then they return to the belly as he continues rubbing you. “Would love a little girl too.”

“Hm.” You remark and slowly, your hand rubs over the belly on the opposite side, where John’s hand isn’t. “We’ve gotta promise not to yell or argue in front of the baby.”

“Kind of hard to do that when I’m married to the Devil.” John quips, causing you to look up at him, eyes narrowed.

“You’ve gotta promise. We’ve gotta promise.” You murmur as you look at him.

For a moment, his usually grumpy face softens and he nods. “I promise.”

Nodding as well, you echo the sentiment. “I promise.”

No, wait, five:

5. When you have his back.

“General, that is not what I asked you. I would ask that you stop beating around the bush, feeding me, the jury, and the people watching at home, fabricated information and embellished words in a sorry attempt to save your credibility. Stick to the questions being asked and stop wasting our times.” You warned the man as you paced the space in front of the stand.

“Me and everyone else in this room are looking for nothing but the truth, or must I remind you that you are under oath and also live on television?” You ask outloud as you turn to look at him.

“No, counselor.” The General, a heavy-set, older, mustachioed man replies, through gritted teeth, his face showing a polite expression while the man himself was seething on the inside.

“Very well, then, I’ll repeat the question. Were you or were you not aware of the aforementioned, unsactioned operations being conducted in the Al-Mazarah and Urzikstan border, involving CIA and MI6 operatives?” You asked, eyes glaring into the man’s eyes as you leaned into the stand near him.

“Well, as with most operations...”

“A yes or no is enough, General.” You told him sternly.

“Yes.” The man grits out.

“And did you, or did you not, give permission for these CIA and MI6 operatives, working under the guise of NATO, and I quote, from the transcript: “Authority to use any means necessary” on the enemy forces?” You confronted him.

“Well-”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“And did you do that while being aware that the teams involved would interpret such command as permission to execute an operation in which they’d use ‘extreme physical persuasion’ or, in other words, torture to achieve their goals?”

“I-”

“Did you or did you not, General?”

“Yes, but-”

“And did you, or did you not, not only demand the censoring of the clear and transparent reports received in the aftermath of that operation but also sign off on them yourself, to circumvent the proper channels of evaluation, which would force an internal audit to be conducted?”

“Yes-”

“So, in short, you just confirmed that you authorized your troops to, essentially, wipe their asses with the Geneva convention and comit war crimes on the POWs under their care?”

“Counselor-” One of the judges called out.

“Withdrawn. No further questions, Mr. Chairman.” You told the Chairman and the jury panel that sat above you, as you swiftly turned around and marched up to your table, high heels clacking on the polished floors of the court room.

Your eyes locked onto John’s as he sat in the back of the room, wearing his full regalia, his eyes locked onto yours with a strange shine to them… Almost like he’s proud of you.

As soon as you sit on the chair and the Chairman once again takes over, addressing the room, the General, calling other witnesses, your phone’s screen lights up on the chair next to you.

Picking it up quietly, you spot a message of John’s:

John: that’s my girl. knew you could do it. you: you owe me big time. John: i do. saved my arse there. you: of course. it’s what I’m here for. John: almost making it sound like you love me. you: no but I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. you: no way in hell you’re leaving me alone with 3 children. John: i see. selfish woman. you: shut up. you: and try not torturing POWs next time. John: yes, ma’am.

Five occasions seem to be enough to keep a 23-year marriage afloat.

a/n: Big thanks to my beloved @crashtestbunny for helping draft/plot all these interactiions and just the general toxicity! And also @mothymunson your beloved Toxic!Price is here!

[ O, Captain! Masterlist ] || [ My Masterlist ]

#ikea writes 💚#ocaptainchallenge #cod x reader #cod fanfic #masterlist #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #call of duty #cod fandom #captain price #captain john price x reader #captain price mw2 #price mw2 #price

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sitp-recs · 4 months

Note

Drarry fics where Draco is absolutely whipped for Harry? Especially love when everyone seems to know it except for Harry. Thanks! :)

Hi there! It’s hard to see Draco let Harry do whatever he pleases even when he’s pining ahaha but I do have a few suggestions. Would highly recommend eidheann and lettered as authors who usually write fics with a hopelessly in love Draco:

The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth by hiimcibee (T, 19k)

Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. Potter is not someone Draco wants a one-off with. Potter is — Draco’s beloved!

And Back Again (Where You Belong) by eidheann (E, 16k)

He thought back on their previous handshakes, and smiled faintly at the fact they always seemed to mean so much more to him than they did to Potter.

Whoo Knew? by oceaxe (E, 18k)

Despite having had a crush on his Auror partner for years, Draco's been biding his time and waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his case. But when Harry subscribes to a new wizarding personals service, Draco gets a wake-up call.

Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by lauren3210 (E, 19k)

In which Harry thinks he’s a playboy, everyone else knows better, and Hermione will kill Seamus if Ron tries to collect on that bet.

Nothing But You On My Mind by Moonflower_Rose (M, 21k)

Potter has been in Australia on an internship for almost a year, and Draco cannot wait for him to get back home. They'll finally have a chance to talk about their feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong? Loads, as it turns out.

The Green Vial by eidheann (E, 31k)

After months of seeing Harry Potter walk into his Apothecary disappointed and hopeless, Draco offers to carry the baby that Harry can't. Now he's just got to hide the fact that he's been half in love with Harry for years.

dirtynumbangelboy by magpie_fngrl (E, 39k)

After Harry’s unfortunate encounter with his ex, Draco Malfoy makes him a proposition. Draco wants his parents to stop matchmaking him and Harry wants to make his ex jealous. All they need to do is simply pretend they’re in love. Problem is… Draco already is.

Another Heart Whispers Back by slytherco (E, 53k)

At twenty-five, Harry Potter is still a virgin and sorely lacking in options to change that state anytime soon. To help him find a plus one for Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and maybe kill two birds with one stone, Harry’s friends set him up on a series of blind dates. The only problem is, there’s something not quite right with each of their candidates.

Harry Potter Gives a Shit by talithan (E, 58k)

“Where are you headed?” “No place special,” Draco fumbled, and flushed further. But then: “I can change that,” said Harry Potter.

Finely Drawn Lines by The_Sinking_Ship (E, 61k)

Draco doesn’t consider himself an artist (though the dozens of sketchbooks lining his shelves might suggest differently). Yet ever since Potter returned to Hogwarts, accepting a teaching position alongside Draco, his drawings have taken on a rather singular focus.

Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (E, 104k)

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #pining Draco

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book--brackets · 2 months

Text

The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater (2012-2016)

Every year, Blue Sargent stands next to her clairvoyant mother as the soon-to-be dead walk past. Blue never sees them--until this year, when a boy emerges from the dark and speaks to her.

His name is Gansey, a rich student at Aglionby, the local private school. Blue has a policy of staying away from Aglionby boys. Known as Raven Boys, they can only mean trouble.

But Blue is drawn to Gansey, in a way she can't entirely explain. He is on a quest that has encompassed three other Raven Boys: Adam, the scholarship student who resents the privilege around him; Ronan, the fierce soul whose emotions range from anger to despair; and Noah, the taciturn watcher who notices many things but says very little.

For as long as she can remember, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love to die. She doesn't believe in true love, and never thought this would be a problem. But as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she's not so sure anymore.

Shades of Magic by V. E. Schwab (2015-2017)

Kell is one of the last Antari--magicians with a rare, coveted ability to travel between parallel Londons; Red, Grey, White, and, once upon a time, Black.Kell was raised in Arnes--Red London--and officially serves the Maresh Empire as an ambassador, traveling between the frequent bloody regime changes in White London and the court of George III in the dullest of Londons, the one without any magic left to see.

Unofficially, Kell is a smuggler, servicing people willing to pay for even the smallest glimpses of a world they'll never see. It's a defiant hobby with dangerous consequences, which Kell is now seeing firsthand.

After an exchange goes awry, Kell escapes to Grey London and runs into Delilah Bard, a cut-purse with lofty aspirations. She first robs him, then saves him from a deadly enemy, and finally forces Kell to spirit her to another world for a proper adventure.

Now perilous magic is afoot, and treachery lurks at every turn. To save all of the worlds, they'll first need to stay alive.

The Witcher by Andrzej Sapkowski (1992-2013)

For over a century, humans, dwarves, gnomes, and elves have lived together in relative peace. But times have changed, the uneasy peace is over, and now the races are fighting once again. The only good elf, it seems, is a dead elf.

Geralt of Rivia, the cunning assassin known as the Witcher, has been waiting for the birth of a prophesied child. This child has the power to change the world -- for good, or for evil.

As the threat of war hangs over the land and the child is hunted for her extraordinary powers, it will become Geralt's responsibility to protect them all. And the Witcher never accepts defeat.

Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones (1986-2008)

Sophie has the great misfortune of being the eldest of three daughters, destined to fail miserably should she ever leave home to seek her fate. But when she unwittingly attracts the ire of the Witch of the Waste, Sophie finds herself under a horrid spell that transforms her into an old lady. Her only chance at breaking it lies in the ever-moving castle in the hills: the Wizard Howl's castle.

To untangle the enchantment, Sophie must handle the heartless Howl, strike a bargain with a fire demon, and meet the Witch of the Waste head-on. Along the way, she discovers that there's far more to Howl--and herself--than first meets the eye.

In this giant jigsaw puzzle of a fantasy, people and things are never quite what they seem. Destinies are intertwined, identities exchanged, lovers confused. The Witch has placed a spell on Howl. Does the clue to breaking it lie in a famous poem? And what will happen to Sophie Hatter when she enters Howl's castle?

The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher (2000-2020)

As a professional wizard, Harry Dresden knows firsthand that the “everyday” world is actually full of strange and magical things—and most of them don’t play well with humans. And those that do enjoy playing with humans far too much. He also knows he’s the best at what he does. Technically, he’s the only at what he does. But even though Harry is the only game in town, business—to put it mildly—stinks.

So when the Chicago P.D. bring him in to consult on a double homicide committed with black magic, Harry’s seeing dollar signs. But where there’s black magic, there’s a black mage behind it. And now that mage knows Harry’s name…

Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie (1911)

Peter Pan, the book based on J. M. Barrie's famous play, is filled with unforgettable characters: Peter Pan, the boy who would not grow up; the fairy, Tinker Bell; the evil pirate, Captain Hook; and the three children-Wendy, John, and Michael-who fly off with Peter Pan to Neverland, where they meet Indians and pirates and a crocodile that ticks.

The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov (1966)

One hot spring, the devil arrives in Moscow, accompanied by a retinue that includes a beautiful naked witch and an immense talking black cat with a fondness for chess and vodka. The visitors quickly wreak havoc in a city that refuses to believe in either God or Satan. But they also bring peace to two unhappy Muscovites: one is the Master, a writer pilloried for daring to write a novel about Christ and Pontius Pilate; the other is Margarita, who loves the Master so deeply that she is willing literally to go to hell for him. What ensues is a novel of in exhaustible energy, humor, and philosophical depth.

Saga by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples (2012-present)

When two soldiers from opposite sides of a never-ending galactic war fall in love, they risk everything to bring a fragile new life into a dangerous old universe. Saga is the sweeping tale of one young family fighting to find their place in the worlds. Fantasy and science fiction are wed like never before in this sexy, subversive drama for adults.

The Farseer Trilogy by Robin Hobb (1995-1997)

Young Fitz is the bastard son of the noble Prince Chivalry, raised in the shadow of the royal court by his father's gruff stableman. He is treated as an outcast by all the royalty except the devious King Shrewd, who has him secretly tutored in the arts of the assassin. For in Fitz's blood runs the magic Skill--and the darker knowledge of a child raised with the stable hounds and rejected by his family.

As barbarous raiders ravage the coasts, Fitz is growing to manhood. Soon he will face his first dangerous, soul-shattering mission. And though some regard him as a threat to the throne, he may just be the key to the survival of the kingdom.

Earthsea Cycle by Ursula K. Le Guin (1968-2001)

Ged was the greatest sorcerer in Earthsea, but in his youth he was the reckless Sparrowhawk. In his hunger for power and knowledge, he tampered with long-held secrets and loosed a terrible shadow upon the world.

This is the tumultuous tale of his testing, how he mastered the mighty words of power, tamed an ancient dragon, and crossed death's threshold to restore the balance.

#best fantasy book #poll #the raven cycle #shades of magic #the witcher #howl’s moving castle #the dresden files #peter pan #the master and margarita #saga #the farseer trilogy #earthsea cycle

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whataperfectwasteoftime · 2 months

Text

The Rift - Chapter Five

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Marcus Acacius x Marcus Pike x f!Reader

Rating: M, adult content, 18+ only. Next chapter will be E!!

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Marcus Acacius is a shameless flirt, yearning and sexual tension, Marcus Acacius as the author stand-in who gets impatient and straight up pushes everyone's face together

Summary: At the same time that Marcus Acacius is growing more and more accustomed to modern living, you are settling into your strange new life with an unconventional roommate who only speaks Latin, an FBI Agent you're secretly in love with, and the leader of the Heroics. All three of them are mainstays at your apartment, and you couldn't love the situation more. Or could you?

A/N: Is it heating up in here, or is it just me?

Masterlist | Chapter Four | Next chapter>>

(Acacius)

Marcus Acacius performs the now-familiar task of turning on the water for a hot shower, turning the little handle to exactly where you showed him and pulling the little knob on the faucet. Water immediately cascades into the tub, and as he steps under the hot spray with a satisfied groan, he wonders to himself why he desires to return home at all.

Now that more intricate, technical conversations are possible with the help of Moreno’s magic devices, you and Pike have been able to explain in more detail about the strange world he finds himself in.

Now he understands that he has traveled thousands of years into the future, and many of the incomprehensible things he’s seen have begun to make sense. Having studied history in his own time, he’s perfectly familiar with the progression of society and invention. Extrapolate this over thousands of years, and you have such things as cars, skyscrapers, and tee-vees.

He could ask question after question about this world all day long, but the two of you seem just as interested in his life, and he finds himself talking about his service as a general, the wars he’s fought in, and even stories of his childhood.

The other man, Moreno, seems to be curious too, and stops by every few days for dinner and conversation, and the four of you often talk late into the night, satisfying his every curiosity from airplanes to elevators. One night, he receives a crash course in the meaning of the word ‘Heroic,’ discovering the man’s otherworldly abilities when someone bumps into a small table, sending a lamp crashing to the floor. Or, it would have crashed to the floor, if it had not begun floating in the middle of the air just before reaching the ground. He watches in dumbfounded awe as the Hero guides the metal object through the air with one hand outstretched and sets it back down gently on the table.

Marcus Acacius is… content.

He dresses himself in some of the new clothing you and Marcus had given him, puts his translator in a pocket, carefully places the earpiece in one ear, and heads to the kitchen.

“Morning!” you greet him brightly. “Marcus has a few meetings that he had to go in for, so it’s just us today until the afternoon.”

He nods good-naturedly and gives you a smile. You always seem to fluster when he does so, and he isn’t sure how to react. In his own time, he had no trouble calling on women–or men, for that matter–but this world is so different, and he does not know the conventions of courting, or what is considered to be proper and improper. Both you and Pike are attractive, and you both fascinate him. If he were in his element, at one of the Emperor’s feasts, perhaps, he would entertain the two of you at once. As a high-ranking official, he’s certainly no stranger to the pleasure of many bodies entwined on a bed at once.

He wonders, sometimes, if this sort of thing is still done.

Marcus retrieves a mug from the cabinet and fills it with the black coffee drink you and Pike enjoy so much. He finds he rather likes it too, provided enough sweet cream and sugar are added to dilute the bitter taste. He swirls a spoon around, watching as the drink takes on a lighter shade of brown.

“What do you want to do today?” you ask as you sip from your own mug.

Marcus thinks for a moment. “I want to watch another one of these ‘films’ that you put on the teevee.”

You laugh. “You liked that, huh? How about we wait for Marcus to get home, and then we’ll watch another.”

“I like the one with the small people and the magic ring.”

“I figured you would.”

“In that case, do you have any more books that are in my language?” He had already finished the first one you’d given him, happy to have something familiar and comforting in his hands.

“Oh, absolutely,” you answer. “Come with me. We’ll find you something.”

He follows you into the little room that is filled from floor to ceiling with books and watches you peruse the shelves.

“If it is no longer spoken by any living person, as you say, why are so many of your books in my language?”

You pause thoughtfully, one finger resting on the spine of a book. “People have studied these works for centuries. Historians, philosophers, politicians–many people in this time study the works of people who lived thousands of years ago.”

“I find it comforting,” Marcus muses, “that there is so much of this world that I do not recognize, and yet these words endure.” He thinks for a moment, frowning. “How is it that so many people are familiar with these texts if the language is no longer spoken?”

“Oh, well most people read them in English–or whatever modern language they speak.”

“And yet you have them as they were written,” he points out.

You duck your head bashfully and look away from him–Why? “What I do for work…” you begin carefully. “I study ancient–well, ancient to us–civilizations. My specialty is Imperial Era Rome–your time. I’m kind of considered to be an expert.” You laugh nervously, still looking away from him as you explain.

Marcus finds it endearing, your reticence, but your area of study explains why the Agent brought him to you in the first place. He steps closer, so that you can no longer avoid looking at him. “You are an expert in… me, then?” he teases.

He revels in the surprised bark of laughter that you can’t suppress in response to his joke.

“Lots of people are fascinated with objects from the past,” you explain, still smiling. “We put them in big buildings called museums and people come from all over to see them.”

“I would like to see this,” Marcus decides immediately.

You hesitate. “Moreno doesn’t want you to be out in public any more than strictly necessary,” you tell him carefully. “There’s a lot of tension over how the Rift–the door to your time–was handled. If people knew you came through, he worries it would cause even more chaos.”

He considers this. “It is strictly necessary for me to see the museums,” he decides.

You giggle softly. “Let me ask Pike, see what he thinks. Maybe we can sneak you over there. Ah! Here–” you hand him a book. “You’ll like this one.”

“Aenē̆is,” Marcus reads from the cover. “Thank you,” he says gratefully, choosing not to use the translator.

The two of you read in your living room until the late afternoon, when you’re interrupted by a light tap on the door.

“I should really give you a key at this point,” you joke as you open the door to Agent Pike.

Marcus watches his face with interest, noticing how his lips part and his eyes widen with surprise before he quickly shakes himself and gives a noncommittal response. When you turn away and walk back to the couch, retrieving your book, the man’s eyes follow you the entire way. When he notices he’s being watched, he quickly looks away.

“Marcus!” the Agent greets him brightly, clearly attempting to cover up the fact that he was just caught staring. Marcus isn’t sure why the man is so desperate to hide his obvious attraction to you. Is this a modern custom, or is it simply an idiosyncrasy of this man, in particular?

“Are we expecting Moreno tonight?” you ask.

“I haven’t heard from him,” Pike answers as he sinks down onto the couch next to you.

“You should text him,” you suggest as you elbow the man in the shoulder. “Tell him we’re watching movies now.”

“I could,” he shrugs.

Marcus decides to speak up. “I enjoy the evenings where there are four of us,” he says. “You always order extra food.”

The Agent snorts. “We can do that.”

Marcus smiles. It might have been said as a joke, but the sentiment was genuine. There is a particular kind of energy in the room that he enjoys when the four of them are together. It isn’t just the conversation that he finds so interesting; Moreno and Pike both wear every emotion on their faces–even more so when the wine flows–and Marcus has always been excellent at reading people.

The attraction Moreno has for Pike is obvious. Pike is harder to read, because while his interest in the other man–and in Marcus himself–is clear from his body language, his feelings for you appear to be nothing short of infatuation.

And you… you’re interesting, too. The interactions between you and Pike indicate a history of affection and friendship, but he sees the way your eyes dilate when you look at Moreno… and when you look at him.

And when the four of you are together, Marcus thinks, the tension is delicious.

(You)

The best thing about watching a movie with Marcus Acacius, you decide, is not the movie itself. It’s watching Marcus Acacius watch the movie. You can’t help but watch the man’s face for his reactions to every scene. Your recliner has a lousy view of the TV, so the four of you are crammed onto the couch–because Moreno did show up, after all–sipping glasses of wine and watching Braveheart. You’re seated between Pike and the General, and Moreno is on the other end next to Pike.

Unfortunately, because you keep looking at him, the Roman keeps looking back at you, too, and it worries you that he’s getting the wrong idea. The man is gorgeous, of course, but your heart belongs to someone else, and has for quite some time now. When this is all over, you really need to tell Marcus–your Marcus–how you feel. At the same time, you don’t want this period in your life to end. You’ve never been a person who has many friends at once, and the three men who crashed into your life–and your home–have given you more companionship in the span of a few weeks than you’ve felt in your entire adult life. Each one is a comforting presence in their own way, and when all four of you are together, you’ve never felt more at ease.

Not to mention each man is devastatingly handsome. You’ve been head-over-heels for the FBI Agent ever since he showed up at your office with an unbelievable story about Roman artifacts and a pleading look in his pretty brown eyes. Marcus Acacius, well–his commanding, charismatic presence in your home is impossible to ignore. He’s a terrible flirt, you’ve discovered, not just with you, but seemingly with Pike as well. You think he mostly does it to fluster the man, but there seems to be genuine affection behind his playfulness. And the leader of the Heroics? He hardly needs an explanation. Marcus Moreno was your first celebrity crush. Pushed into the superhero limelight in his early twenties, he was a mainstay in teen magazines during your high school years. Sometimes you can’t believe that the hero is a regular at your apartment, so familiar to him now that he helps himself to the six pack of beer that you keep in your fridge.

A set of unbelievable circumstances brought you together, and now here you are. On the couch. Feeling the fabric of Marcus Pike’s soft henley on one arm, and the bare skin of the Roman’s bicep barely contained by the t-shirt he’s wearing on the other.

You can’t tell if it’s the wine or their proximity that’s making you more lightheaded. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Moreno subtly shift closer to the man beside him.

You don’t know how the rest of them are able to concentrate on the movie.

You watch as a brutal fight scene shows on the screen, and you instinctively look to Acacius to gauge his reaction. He notices, of course, and raises his eyebrows in challenge.

“The fighting seems so real, it is difficult to remember that these men are playing pretend,” he observes. He shifts in his seat, crossing one ankle over his knee and stretching his arm out on the back of the couch, just behind your shoulders, and seeming to accidentally brush the side of Pike’s neck with his fingers.

The Agent’s eyes flick sideways with a small, questioning frown at the touch.

“My apologies,” the Roman says, but before he returns his gaze to the screen, he gives you a subtle wink.

Marcus Pike murmurs something about needing more wine and gets up.

“Bring the bottle,” Acacius says. “Another round for us all, yes?”

The other man obeys, bringing the bottle and filling each glass in turn. When he comes to you, your eyes meet as more burgundy liquid splashes into your glass. You don’t know what’s darker, the wine, or his pupils.

When he sits down, you note, he’s even closer than before.

“What I simply do not understand,” the Roman suddenly says to the man beside you, the deep timbre of his voice felt in your chest, “is how you can be so deeply enamored with this beautiful woman beside you and do nothing.”

“E-Enamored?” Marcus chokes. “I–I’m not–”

“You are not?” the other man teases. “Then you do not mind if I partake?”

“Stop that,” you scold. “You’re just trying to elicit a response and you know it.”

“Ah, I did not specify with whom I was speaking of partaking,” Acacius says darkly. His fingers caress the other man’s neck again, this time with intent.

Marcus sputters wordlessly, his mouth opening and closing, but you can feel the soft tremor that runs through him at the soft touch.

“Hey–” Moreno protests, looking irritated and put-out.

“Shhhhh,” the Roman cuts him off. “You would be more than welcome to join, hero.”

Moreno’s mouth snaps shut.

“But ah,” the man teases, “what rude guests we would be if we stole our hostess’s bed for ourselves, no? I think we should invite her as well.”

“You’re serious,” Moreno remarks skeptically.

“Is it not done in your time?” he asks, feigning innocence. “A group of people simply enjoying themselves?”

“No, it’s–it’s definitely done,” you say shakily. “It’s just that… I mean, we don’t know if we all want–”

“It is a simple matter to ask,” Acacius interrupts. “I will begin with you. Would you care to join all of us in bed?”

He speaks about it so plainly that it makes your skin tingle and your heart starts to race. All three men are looking at you: The Roman with patient expectation, the Heroic with obvious curiosity, and the Agent—his intense gaze burns you from the inside out.

“Yes,” you hear yourself answer. “Yes, I–I would.”

“And you, hero,” the man moves on. “Are you interested in a night spent together?”

Moreno shrugs, as though he can’t think of any reason not to agree. “Yeah,” he says, chuckling softly in disbelief. “Sure, why not?”

Acacius fixes his gaze on the one remaining person to answer. “And you–the man who found me in the darkness. What say you?”

Marcus’s eyes flit rapidly between the three of you, hesitating.

Say yes, you plead in your head. Say yes, Marcus.

You watch as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. He makes you wait for an eternity.

Then, he nods.

#marcus pike #marcus moreno #marcus acacius #the mentalist #we can be heroes #gladiator 2 #pedro pascal

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year

Note

may i request the batfam as felonies?

Dick: roller skating in unmarked areas of a national park (Title 36 Code of Federal Regulations §2.20)

Jason: mayhem (Code of the District of Columbia Chapter 4 §22-406)

Tim: barging into a Zoom meeting uninvited (Title 18 U.S. Code §1030)

Damian: throwing rocks inside a cave (Title 36 Code of Federal Regulations §2.1(3))

Duke: breaking a government-owned lamp (Title 40 U.S. Code §8103(b)(4))

Cullen: having offensively bad hygeine in the Library of Congress (Title 40 U.S. Code §5104(e)(2)(C))

Stephanie: failure to report food service tips (Title 26 U.S. Code §7201)

Cassandra: climbing a tree on Supreme Court grounds (Title 40 U.S. Code §6133)

Barbara: changing the weather without telling the secretary of commerice (Title 15 U.S. Code §330(a))

Harper: stealing kitchen grease (North Carolina General Statutes Chapter 14 §14-79.2)

Carrie: owning a slingshot (New Jersey Code of Criminal Justice Title 2C §39-3(e))

Kate: leaving the country with more than $25 worth of nickels (Title 31 U.S. Code §5111(d)(2))

Alfred: mislabeling turkey ham (Title 9 Code of Federal Regulations §381.171(d))

Selina: associating with pirates (Title 18 U.S. Code §1657)

Bruce: writing a check for less than $1 (Title 18 U.S. Code §336)

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burdigel · 2 days

Text

Theories and Headcannons Pt. 22

So new week, new theory about Doc's new poker game and the hermits decided to be used as the monarchs and joker for each type of deck. Innovated from the French-suited playing cards, Doc's poker deck has four suits, diamonds, hearts, clubs and spades, and each suiting having three court cards, King, Queen and Jack. This results in only twelve available spaces considering one hermit takes one court card each and leaves fifteen hermits unable to be represented by the cards. Nethertheless even with the limited representation of the hermits, each cards has its depth and lore.

Starting with the suit of diamond, has Doc representing its King, Gem representing its Queen and Scar representing its Jack. As diamonds is represented as a valuable material considering its bartering and trading value in Hermitcraft, being the main currency for shops, it's reasonable that Doc would be the face of Kings of Diamonds. Gem's reasoning is also obvious due to her talent considering both PVP and her building skills. Finally Scar, being the Jack of Diamonds is poetic due to his bartering (scamming) skills built from his charisma to trade for "diamond" tiered items with common items.

The court of Hearts is a different story considering its representatives are Rendog for the King, Falsesymmetry for the Queen and Bdubs as its Jack. With the symbol of Hearts often depicted as red and hearts in general epitomising the living flesh of a person, Ren as the King is perfect. As RentheKing in Hermitcraft Season Nine and the Red King back in Third Life, Ren deserves the position of King of Hearts. Second to the King of Hearts, is Falsesymmetry, the winner of Season's 10 demise. With hearts also depicting the life and soul of a person, it's also fitting for the winner to recieve the mantle of Queen of Hearts. The final court of Jacks is Bdubs, who in Season Nine of Hermitcraft was the assistant or right-hand man to RentheKing. Resulting in his title of the rank below the King, Jacks of Hearts.

With the court of Spades, majority of its court was already explained by Doc in his previous Hermitcraft 10 episode, (29) with the Jack of Spades being Mumbo, a spoon, Etho being definitively cool and the suit of Spades being objectively cool (in Doc's perspective), and Pearl fitting the role of Queen of Spades. But the reasonings run deeper than this besides Mumbo's spoon reasoning. Take Pearl, the Queen of Spades. Back in Season Nine, she was the Cleaning Lady, taking on jobs of cleaning chestmonsters and other messes with a price. Spades is often linked with the concept of cleaning so it was natural to pick Pearl. The final court card, Kings of Spades, is given to Etho and rightfully so because of his connections to Shade-E-E. Originally Shade-E-E was a "subscription service" and later evolved to a "gardening service" which entailed him using dirt and other blocks to create pixel artworks for the other hermits in saeson seven. And what else is connected to dirt, spades, hence the King of Spades being Ethoslab.

The final suit, Clubs, consist of King of Clubs being Xisumavoid, Queen of Clubs being ZombieCleo and Jack of Clubs being Grian. Although the listed hermits' connections to the suit of Clubs may be vague, there is a connection hidden between the layers of history the deck of cards retains. With majority depictions of a deck of cards using French-suited playing cards, other versions of the standard 52-card deck is found throughout multiple continents with German depications of the Club being an acorn. Acorns also being a symbol of strength and resilience, a trait Xisuma has constantly demonstrated throughout the decade Hermitcraft has been running. Cleo's connections of the suit of Clubs includes her role as an enforcing monarchy, the Queen, with a royal baton otherwise known as a sceptre being a symbol of royalty. Finally, Grian's relation to the Club are the multiple depictions of the suit of Clubs being of a plant. Plants and weeds like the clover and acorns are all edible to a range of bird species, both domestic and wild and with the fandom's collective decision to represent Grian has a human with avian features, it's his connections to birds that create his relationship with the Jack of Clubs.

These twelve court cards all with their representative hermits all have depth and lore leading their portrayal as the monarchs and Jacks of each suit.

---------

So this theory is finally here and I hope it made up for the multiple weeks without theories. Still have to cope with exams but soon I will be free from these shackles.

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