#i have been debating making another one but the question is Can I Tolerate Moderating That

[aroaceleovaldez]

because i like making lists and community resources i'm kinda tempted to make a list of riordanverse/pjo discords, since they can be difficult to find

would people be interested in that at all?

[dinoburger]

I’m providing screenshots from a report I made a few months back, most of which I’ll let you decipher for yourselves that’s a small sample of the behaviour tolerated in a server I became very involved with which is LISA: The Pointless

to summarise, an indie rpgmaker fangame still undergoing development with a server hosting hundreds of people - not all of them active mind you, but this is the scale of things

I was very involved for a time, it’s caused me a lot of stress and grief and subsequently I’ve purged most of anything that ties me back to these people

TW for Racism, RACIAL SLURS (PARTICULARLY THE N WORD), Transphobia, Transphobic Slurs, Targeted Harassment (specifically of queer artists), Screenshots of Footage of Animal Harm (nothing graphic mind you but still upsetting), Mentions of Child Molestation, Anti-Semitism

also talking about very meagre attempts at server administration to do damage control, this was a statement made by the lead developer/creator Edvinas Kandrotas

also that there were a lot of fingers pointed at me for not discussing my issue with the administration when really, the issues this server has and has had are fundamental, to the point where other servers themed around indie RPGmaker games have been raided by individuals from this server

a lot of those kicked or temp banned for their behaviours in the server are allowed back in and continue to behave inappropriately in more insidious ways

the moderation themselves, some I have witnessed getting involved (take note, the dark blue-grey names are moderators, the red names are head admin and the pink name is an “anti-mod”, a role which is elected by the public where they are allowed into the private moderation channels of the server to... debate against the rules...)

the moderation and developers alike have been maliciously ignorant

a lot of my friends have also been personal targets of the server and feel their presence online being endangered.

I’m going to note here that my friend was only harassed even more after this, because he and a lot of these artists were unaware what was going on it just seemed like these people were coming out of nowhere

this is probably continuing

I never bothered to get caps of it but my work was often getting shared around too, sometimes outright fetish art - I am an adult and I have every right to make adult content, but I will only ever share it in spaces where it can be appropriately filtered, not in public discord servers

that being said I also did not consent to the adult mod I made being shared on the LISA wiki either but that’s another issue.

everything censored below is art from lgbt artists that was being reposted

there were more videos and gifs akin to this, including one of a dog being hit by a chemical explosive being shared repeatedly

despite this kind of material actually being banned in written word, there is in fact a moderator encouraging this behaviour (“it’s the fucking monkey’s fault”)

one of many things that exacerbated my anxiety to contact the moderation to begin with

I will note that the user DandySlav was demodded not too long after going on these huge transmisogynistic tirades throughout the server but the fact that he managed to get as far as becoming one of the head moderators raises a lot of questions

I never captured it either but I did also see Edvinas himself publicly confront another user for complaining about these behaviours

I’m going to say that if anyone has anything they’d like to contribute or wants to discuss privately my DMs are open. if anyone wants to know about who’s been involved I’m happy to go more in depth but it’s hard to specify a lot of this because while some members are active on social media a lot aren’t, change handles often or are otherwise anonymous.

I can say with a fair amount of confidence though that these people were involved, if we’re going to put names to actions. I have a longer list of names if anyone wants to know.

most of what you need to know is already above but I’m editing back in to talk about personal experience a bit and small updates that don’t really change anything

this post starts out with saying that these screencaps are from a report that was sent to the discord moderation team and earned this server a strike

however, at that point I was still unsure how to go forward. I had no confidence in the moderation team, half the time a lot of the behavior I’ve shown here was excused as banter or if they ever acted on it, revoking punishment happened commonly enough that a lot of those banned eventually returned

they allow people to be targeted with no repercussions.

after the strike, I was outed after confiding my lack of trust for the moderation, I was banned without being told - I didn’t even get a “fuck you” from the moderation team - and was told second hand that they’d announced my name publicly to their server as the instigator, painted me as an antagonist and followed that with an off handed “but don’t harass them”

of course what’s been happening since, and for months after, has been waves and waves of harassment from people making blank accounts, coming to my friends and trying to convince them that I groom children, various other things.

this is far from everything but some examples

a lot of this was before I made this public. I wrote the report in July of last year, it wasn’t acted upon until sometime later in 2020, I took it public around, well this post should be timestamped, in november of 2020 apparently whoops

I was already feeling pretty beaten by then, I was asking myself a lot if this was even the right thing to do, but this is about more than me. The first iteration of this post was riddled with guilt and nonsense because frankly I was scared, I felt dirty for being involved in something that did a lot of harm to a lot of people

but the Pointless server is not a monolith, it’s run by people with names

pretty much anyone who’s a developer, most of the fangame scene, and a chunk of the fans are pretty aware of what’s going on and either condone or refuse to speak out on it

I whinged vaguely about it on twitter but head Timeless developer Lloyd was an active participant and I watched him unprompted start talking about how “there’s only two genders” - if these screencaps don’t prove enough the kind of thing these people get into because anyone with any sense doesn’t want to hang out there, idk what to say

hell, if you have braincells and faith in humanity to kill you could easily find these sentiments on the LISA subreddit just by dipping into the comments

I’m going to finish off by saying there is no evidence anything has changed, as I mentioned I’m still getting harassed, the only statements Ed has ever released publicly are about the MU

the only thing that ever happened, disregarding everything else so absolutely wrong is that the n word was temporarily banned and then unbanned

[the-bjd-community-confess]

DOA Bullshit and Bias Hubbywrangler is always in the comments foaming at the mouth whenever someone says less than positive things about DOA. Your autocratic bullshit only works on DOA; you cant control what people say online and you certainly cant ban them for having an opinion, but since you enjoy being an asshole to those who are scared of joining DOA, have felt unwelcome there or discriminated against, why not say something that really matters? The other moderators dont comment on things here, but a mod did on IG and had her ass handed back to her, why not give it a go here? Fantyfofo and MANY others got banned with no warning because they cast doll mannequins to make wigs, something that was not in the rules before banning them - no warning and not allowing them to fix their "mistake". This is unfair, specially because theres just a big red banned on their username and most assume its scamming; you know the damage that this does. when people question this, you just brush their frustration off. Youve sometimes said that these people are lying and the ban was actually not what this person is saying. Well, why not put in the reason why someone is banned? Youve already placed an obnoxious BANNED title under their name, its only fair for everyone to know why they were banned, so no one would accuse you like they have in the past for power tripping. You know the average user would see the banned title and avoid purchasing or dealing with said person - even if the ban was because they made another account, made a mannequin head or ffs, disagreed with a mod offsite. Before you say no, I know for a FACT that Aimeeeee banned a person because they had a disagreement with her on LJ, if you need names, its Hi3ru. I also know of the bullshit secret section of DOA that got hacked and leaked over a decade ago with Sal3m and JaM3 being particularly the shittiest of them all. Dont give me this non-biased bullshit when you obviously dont know how to be anything but biased. This may not be the case these days, but the secret section was there, anyone who has been in the hobby for a long time would remember it or has seen it. There is zero recast tolerance on DOA, yet Mannie admitted that she posted her recast and got suspended for it, when others did the same mistake but got banned permanently, please make it make sense. How is she not banned permanently? How is she still active in the forums when not only did she post her recast, but she admitted to it on her tumblr, and had made tutorials on how to purchase one safely? When being fair, the rules should apply to everyone; that does not mean your friends get to be exempt from it. Speaking of, how do you expect to be the "authority" on everything BJD, when even mention or linking of recasts get you banned or suspended? Do you think a newbie, or someone who has english as their second language will first assume its a fake? When a person wants a discussion - note discussion, not statement - on recasts to educate themselves to make an informed decision, is met with a suspension; how likely do you think they will get a recast out of spite for being "shunned" from the community? No sense in spending too much, "artistic integrity" when the artists and the "head" of the community is hostile towards you. This is such a missed opportunity for DOA to make something great, actually make a difference and encourage being pro-artist instead of bullying a person who is questioning it (no, those who made informed decisions on purchasing recasts can fuck off). I had my recent feedback deleted off my page because the moderators suspect the feedback is from offsite and is against the rules. Did you know, that when you get banned, there is no reply or appeal? You have to send an email which never gets replied to. The other thing; there would be an archive of dolls being sold. Clothes and accessories? Once its sold, its gone. The feedback I got was from those sales AND DOA suspended me because they suspected it was offsite sales. Putting that on the side; why limit feedback on DOA to only sales done on

DOA? IG and FB allow feedback from everywhere; as long as you have experience with that buyer and that seller, that should be the only thing that matters. Having the problem transaction thread for members only is also a decision I wont understand. Yes bad feedback can be linked to the feedback page, but how am I supposed to see and judge the feedback if there is no access to the bad feedback linked, because problem transactions are members only? People are fed up with the rules and tip toeing on DOA. Conversations have become so inane and stupid that I feel my IQ drop every time I read the debate section. The forums used to be enjoyable with actual meaningful conversations and now people only go to DOA to read the problem transaction threads, or BJD news. The discussions is nothing but people talking about their purchases, their missed purchases or purchases they hope to make. There is no conversation and you have no one to blame but yourselves because of the free use of bans, suspensions and this shitty punishment point system you threaten people with. You honestly need to get over yourselves because others see you as intimidating. Some mods are better than others, but generally speaking, you guys are power tripping assholes who are way to proud to get with the times and realize that the current way of running the forum is outdated. This is why many see DOA as an archive; talk too loud and the librarian shuts you up; only old threads have any value. Why do you think people have moved to discord, facebook and instagram? You know what would be nice? Allowing name changes. People will pay for it if you provide it, and you can always link the past usernames on their profiles like ebay. Let people change their names. Not alot will pay for extra doll profiles, and extra DOA PM space, but they will pay for name changes. If anyone else has anything to say, please sound off in the comments. H0bbitwrangler has defended DOA a lot, and they are an active mod that comments and lurks here; let them know what you think because they are trying to make DOA seem like the only ones having an issue are those who were banned "fairly".

~Anonymous

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

I’m autistic and I would like to be active in leftist spaces but I don’t know how. Also, do you participate in riots and all that stuff as a leftist? I don’t leave the house a lot and I’m scared

(I’ll add a read more to this post because it’ll be long.)

Sadly, most things in this world weren’t designed for us, anon:(. However, that doesn’t mean that we can’t contribute.

But first, there are a few things I need you to know about leftists spaces in general:

The infighting is worse outside of online spaces.

Said infighting is normal because there are... let’s call them branches.

The communist branch — communists want the proletariat to have control of the state.

The anarchist branch — anarchists want to abolish the state.

Some people would consider socdems (socialist democrats) as leftists, but they believe capitalism can be reformed. Somebody who still believes in capitalism can’t be called a leftist.

You can’t expect groups of people with wildly different goals to not fight. But sometimes those fights are useful and other times, they are petty.

There are also common grounds that those branches can reach, and they often do, but you never hear about it because it isn’t “interesting”.

Depending on your geographical location, you might not be safe if you take part in leftists spaces unless they’re online. The fight against capitalism, fascism, and colonialism is important, but your safety should be your priority.

Don’t trust people who say theory isn’t necessary.

Read theory. And critique of that theory. And then build your own opinion.

Theory isn’t a holy scripture, you can discard the things that you feel don’t apply to your community.

I know theory is challenging, and I don’t have a perfect solution, but if you need help with passages or bodies of work, please dm me. I’ll help you out as much as I can.

Using the label “leftist” is controversial in some spaces. Don’t worry too much about that if you’re just getting started. It’s okay to not know in which branch of the left you feel more comfortable as long as you’re open-minded.

Don’t fall for “democratic socialism and socialism are different because socialists don’t believe in democracy.”

Socialism is already democratic. Socdems just want to be progressive moderators (think of Bernie Sanders and his policies, for example.)

Listen to a wide range of leftists, but prioritize leftists of color.

Stay away from the “dirtbag left”. Their use of slurs and edgy humor can be triggering. They throw the r-slur in every debate and conversation.

If you want to watch leftist YouTubers, don’t pay too much attention to the “debate bros.” Some of them will be entertaining, but debating isn’t that important to the movement.

Now, I’m agoraphobic. Protests and riots aren’t something I can really tolerate even though I’ve tried. Maybe one day I’ll be able to change that.

But if you know a collective that’s protesting or rioting, you can ask them what you can do to help.

Sometimes they need people to take care of their kids, or people to let them know what the media is saying, or people to hand out pamphlets, or people to design those pamphlets, or people to get them medical attention...

There are so many things you can do from home, I promise! Monitoring police channels is another thing that I’ve seen American and European neurodivergent people do. Just ask.

About direct action...

For context: the left isn’t prominent in Mexico. The Worker’s Party has a coalition with the bourgeois parties at the moment. Our president is a demagogue who lied about his political beliefs and disguised himself as a leftist when he’s a neoliberal.

Where I live, people are so reactionary that they consider the president a communist. Here in my State, everybody’s either a centrist or a conservative. Leftists mostly keep to themselves because we’re not safe — much less if we’re part of a marginalized group which is most likely the case.

Such a thing isn’t too different from other States. We can spend days talking about why that happened and how much US imperialism has fucked us up, but I don’t want to digress.

As you can imagine, mutual aid is tough for me to do for multiple reasons, but it isn’t impossible.

I’ve left my house like ten times this year and I have three friends in total — one of them doesn’t even live in my country. Educating them has been one of the highlights of my year. And they now can pass that knowledge on.

The leftist movement needs more people willing to share knowledge. The movement also needs direct action, but you know what’s also direct action? Mutual aid.

I’m poor and helping out people with money is kinda tough when I have to save money for a ridiculously expensive surgery (it’s for my father), but I give whatever I can.

In my city, there are a lot of immigrants looking for a job. And I can’t give them such a thing, but whenever I can, I cook as many meals as possible and my father gives them out.

Mutual aid isn’t always big, but it can make a lot of difference. Sometimes you can only help out somebody by giving them a meal while they help you out by making you company. But that should be enough for us.

Disabled and neurodivergent people aren’t considered when certain groups form. Another way you can do mutual aid is by helping out neurodivergent and disabled kids. A lot of them can’t go to school or can’t get the tools they need to have a decent life.

There are ways. Unconventional, and smug neurotypicals or able-bodied people might say they’re not enough, but they are. I promise you they are, and the people you help will always be grateful.

Thank you for trusting my perspective on this. I hope this was helpful. If you have more questions or want to talk about this in length, message me.

[a-room-of-my-own]

quillette[.]2019/11/04/meet-the-gay-activists-whove-had-enough-of-britains-ultra-woke-homophobes/ 🙌

Are gay people allowed to meet and organise in defense of their interests? A hard yes, you might have thought. But some apparently disagree.

Witness the response to the London-based LGB Alliance, a newly created British group that asserts “the rights of lesbian, gay and bisexual people to define themselves as same-sex-attracted.” The group’s creation has sparked vitriol, not from the traditionalist Christians or social conservatives who might have opposed such groups in the 1980s or 1990s, but from the self-described progressive left.

Readers who aren’t steeped in the most fashionable iteration of identity politics might now be scratching their heads. Unless you’re taking cues from Leviticus, what could possibly be wrong with saying it’s okay to be gay?

The answer is that, in acknowledging the reality of same-sex attraction, you are indirectly acknowledging the reality and importance of biological sex as a driver of attraction. You are also indirectly acknowledging that members of the opposite sex are not members of your dating pool—even if they tell you that they share your gender identity. Which means you have effectively pled guilty to that grave modern thoughtcrime, transphobia.

If you are not on Twitter, have not set foot on a college campus in the last few years, and don’t read woke web sites such as Teen Vogue, where this sort of thing is taken very seriously, you may imagine that I am engaged in some kind of Swiftian send-up of identity politics gone amok. After all, just about every single person reading this knows quite well how sexual attraction works. But I am quite serious: Activist groups that brand themselves as mainstream representatives of the LGBT community not only preach the idea that true attraction is based on gender, they also have sought to de-platform and mob anyone within their ranks who points out that this idea is completely divorced from the way the human brain actually works. In this make-believe world, to be gay—in the way gay people actually experience being gay—is to be a transphobe.

This is not an entirely new development. As gay-rights groups pivoted to become “trans-inclusive” in recent years, this de facto homophobia has emerged in plain sight. Rather than simply combat violence, bullying and discrimination against trans people, and press for better health care and representation for them—all noble and important goals—those groups have taken on an ideological mission. One might even call it quasi-spiritual: They have replaced biological sex with gender identity—an indefinable internal essence that one demonstrates outwardly by adherence to masculine or feminine stereotypes—throughout their literature and activism.

Stonewall UK, for example, was set up in 1989 to fight Section 28 of the Local Government Act of 1988, which banned schools from “promoting homosexuality” and “pretended” (i.e., gay) “family relationships.” But that same group now defines gay and lesbian people as those who are “attracted to the same gender” (my emphasis), and that evidence of transphobia shall be taken to include “the denial/refusal to accept someone else’s gender identity.” The logical consequence of these distorted definitions is to define same-sex-attraction as bigotry. In 1988, it was conservative homophobes in government claiming that homosexuality was a dangerous, counterfeit identity. Now the homophobes are the progressives running organizations that claim to champion the interests of lesbians and gay men.

Of course, doctrinaire trans-rights activists might attack straights with equal vigour—since straight men and straight women are just as focused on the reality of biological sex as gay men and lesbians. But all bullies seek out the weak and vulnerable, which is why they now rail against the LGB Alliance with more fury than they direct at society as a whole. That’s why the LGB Alliance’s launch meeting was an invitation-only affair, held at a secret location—the sort of security precaution that one might implement when moderate Muslims break away jihadists. “This is an historic moment for the Lesbian, Gay and Bisexual movement,” tweeted Allison Bailey, the criminal-defence barrister who chaired the event. “LGB Alliance launched in London tonight, and we mean business. Spread the word, gender extremism is about to meet its match.”

Based on the reaction from defenders of the new gender orthodoxy, you would have thought Bailey were a Cossack leader announcing a pogrom. “This is frightening and nasty. There is no LGB without the T,” tweeted Owen Jones, who is perhaps Britain’s best-known gay journalist. (This is not new behaviour for Jones, who often starts pile-ons against anyone he regards as transphobic—especially women.) Anthony Watson, an advisor to the opposition Labour Party, said he was “horrified and disgusted,” and described the Alliance as a “#hategroup.” Linda Riley, the editor of Diva, a lesbian magazine that proclaims itself “trans-inclusive,” adapted Martin Niemöller’s famous 1946 confession, First They Came, Tweeting, “First they came for the T…”—thereby suggesting that refusing to prioritize the artifice of gender ideology over inborn sexual orientation is the first step toward some kind of real or metaphorical Holocaust.

Trans activists also used a despicable tactic that now has become a common feature of these cultish campaigns: attempting to beggar those they disagree with. Gendered Intelligence, a non-profit group that works exclusively with trans people (and apparently sees no irony in attacking an organisation focused exclusively on the rest of the LGBT grouping), urged followers to write to Bailey’s law chambers in London, “expressing your concern with the barrister in question and with the new group.” This same mob also sent equally spurious complaints to JustGiving, which hosted the Alliance’s fundraising page. The company panicked and temporarily suspended the Alliance’s account.

The original mover behind the Alliance was Kate Harris, a lesbian and veteran civil-rights campaigner, who a decade ago was a Stonewall fundraiser. She had become increasingly enraged by the harassment of lesbian women that was tolerated, even encouraged, by such groups. Harris and Beverley Jackson, another veteran campaigner, had been writing to Stonewall executives for months, seeking a discussion about the malign impact of gender-identity extremism. They asked Stonewall’s chief executive at the time, Ruth Hunt, whether she was worried about the enormous increase in the number of teenage girls attending GIDS, Britain’s gender-identity clinic for under-18s, and what she would say to the growing number of “de-transitioners”—people who abandon their trans identity and return to an identity corresponding to their biological sex. Many of these girls (as most of them are) describe themselves, with hindsight, as having been motivated by internalised homophobia.

“What upsets me most is that this is all based on the legitimacy we created,” Harris told me. It was this anger that inspired her to gather a group of notables, some of whom had been involved in Stonewall during its early days, to draft an open letter to the group’s current management and board for publication in the Times of London on October 4, 2018. The signatories included Simon Fanshawe, one of Stonewall’s founders, novelist Philip Hensher, actor James Dreyfus, feminist campaigner Julie Bindel, and several trans people who regard Stonewall’s divisive approach as likely to harm the interests of the trans community in the long run.

“We urge Stonewall to acknowledge that there are a range of valid viewpoints around sex, gender and transgender politics, and to acknowledge specifically that a conflict exists between transgenderism and sex-based women’s rights,” the authors wrote. “We call on Stonewall to commit to fostering an atmosphere of respectful debate.”

In response, Ms. Hunt pretended that the letter writers were inventing some kind of non-existent tension. “The petition also asks us to acknowledge that there is a conflict between trans rights and ‘sex based women’s rights,’” she wrote. “We do not and will not acknowledge this. Doing so would imply that we do not believe that trans people deserve the same rights as others.”

A year after this fruitless exchange, it had become clear no change of direction was forthcoming. Ms. Hunt had stepped down, and Stonewall was looking for a new CEO. One potential candidate who was approached by a recruiter disclosed that exploratory questions about whether it might be possible to soften the organisation’s dogmatic position on gender were dismissed out of hand. Many of the signatories of the 2018 open letter decided it was time for a decisive break from an organization that, while pretending to represent L, G,B and T alike, had come to prioritize the most extreme T faction.

Despite all the harassment to which LGB Alliance already has been subject, the group still got off to a flying start. Its JustGiving page has been reinstated, and is on course to hit a £25,000 initial target. The attacks on Bailey sparked widespread outrage and sympathy. Gendered Intelligence deleted its outrageous tweet about her. (Such a personal and highly politicized attack is unlikely to have gone down well with the Charities Commission, which regulates non-profits). Even fans of Owen Jones think a witch hunt against Bailey—a black lesbian from a working-class background—was a low blow. Several publications have written about the LGB Alliance, painting it as everything from a saviour of left-wing politics from its own worst elements, to a front for U.S. evangelicals seeking to export America’s culture wars. The articles in praise were pleasant to read; those lambasting the group neatly underscored the urgency of its mandate. All in all, the Alliance can be said to have arrived. So what next?

Like many of us, Bailey saw parallels with the actions of an abusive spouse. “Just think about what this means LGB,” she Tweeted. “The T has said that this is a marriage that we cannot leave, even if the T becomes abusive. If we try to leave, we will be threatened. If we do manage to leave, we will be starved of cash.”

On its agenda will be protecting women’s sex-based rights—including the right to have certain services offered in spaces free of male bodies. The group will also be campaigning against legislative changes that would compromise female safety.

Stonewall and other trans groups frequently misrepresent Britain’s Equality Act of 2010, which states clearly that single-sex spaces and facilities are perfectly lawful provided they are a “proportionate means to a legitimate aim.” They insist, falsely, that separately stipulated protections against discrimination and harassment for trans-identified people ensure that they can access all spaces intended for the opposite sex. Under such false guidance, Girlguiding UK and Sport England have gone “trans-inclusive,” a euphemism used to describe policies that enable males and females to “self-identify” into spaces intended for the opposite sex. Anyone with even the faintest grasp of biological reality will see immediately why such policies impact most heavily on girls and women.

The Alliance also will lobby for a change of tack at GIDS, Britain’s gender-identity clinic for under-18s, which is under fire for being too quick to affirm children’s claims of a cross-gender identity. It will disseminate unbiased information on the risks of transition and the evidence that gender confusion in children usually resolves itself during puberty, so that young people and their parents have an alternative to a gender-identity narrative based wholly on mechanical affirmation of a child’s claims. It will also seek to give a voice to detransitioners, whom trans activists often accuse of never having been trans in the first place (a claim that completely contradicts these same activists’ insistence on a policy of unfettered self-identification, which equates thinking you are trans with being trans).

If the Alliance flourishes, it could help forge a new consensus on trans rights, one that doesn’t rely on a denial of the reality of biological sex or sexual orientation. And who knows? If sanity prevails, the LGB and T communities may one day find rapprochement.

Helen Joyce is finance editor for The Economist.

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

A View To A Winchester (Part 3)

Series Page

Summary: Julie’s starting a new life after divorce in a home with a very nice view.

A Dean X OFC story. No idea how long it will be, but I’ve got time on my hands. I got this idea staring out the view of my home office window and thinking how nice it would be to have Dean Winchester to ogle. I’m thinking it will go the fluffy route, with some angst, and maybe some smut down the line. Not sure yet.

Section Word Count:  2,664

Section Warnings: mild language, getting fluffy up in here, Dean being adorable, Dean eating

~~~~~

Dean appeared to be playing hide and seek again with Julie. She’d gone out to the patio five minutes after she heard the mower engine cut off. A half-hearted search around the house showed no sign of Mr. Winchester. But, there was ample evidence of a very well mowed and attended lawn. Her nose twitched at the scent of freshly cut grass. She went to retrieve the food and dining necessities from inside the house. It took her two trips and there was still no trace of the hunky individual. Not even in his own yard, stowing away the mower, which is where she figured she’d spot him.

The sliding door closing whipped her focus to the house. Her mom waltzed out toward the patio. Julie crinkled her lids at the purse resting in the crook of her elbow. “What are you doing? You aren’t going to pay him, too, are you?”

“I’m going to the store for a couple hours.”

Julie shook her head. “What?”

“I’ll be back. Most of the stuff is already put away in the kitchen. You can manage these few dishes.” She smiled. “Dean knocked on the front door while you were out here getting things ready. He said he’d be about ten minutes. Was going to wash up. For dinner. I told him I’d let you know.” A mischievous grin lined her mouth now. She grabbed her phone out of the purse’s side pocket and stared at the screen. “It’s 3:30 now. I’ll be back around 6:00. That should give you enough time.”

Who are you and what have you done with my mother? “Enough time for what?”

Brigida giggled. “Just have a nice time.” She leaned closer. “When I brought Wes and Samuel their pasta, I told them you and Dean were having a meal together. Samuel said he’d keep Wes out of your way.”

That explained why Wes hadn’t come out to say hi. “Oh, Ma. You got the neighbors in on whatever this is, too?” Julie cringed. “They’ll be spying through their windows.”

“Sometimes it’s fun to be the one others are staring at, Giulia. Give them something to talk about.” She patted her daughter’s cheek. “Have fun.”

Julie dropped into the wicker chair and watched her mother stride with pride toward her car in the driveway.

Is this really happening? She focused on her breathing as Brigida backed down the drive. Dean Winchester is washing up. Her mouth dried up again.

And, with that thought, she heard his voice. “Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.” She turned to his yard, where he stood leaning against the chain link fence.

He cleaned up well and fast. His damp hair was not quite as fluffy, but still spiky. He was in a fresh pair of jeans, blue plaid, grey shirt and a pair of sneakers. The smile widened as he waited for Julie’s response. Laugh lines appeared and a pair of heart-stopping dimples made him even more charming. How is that even possible?

“N-No. Not too long.”

He nodded then stared at the fence for a few seconds. Some inner debate seemed to be going on in his head. He tilted up to look at Julie. “Would you mind?”

“Mind what?”

“Feeling a little lazy to walk all the way around.” He hopped up, locking his arms on the top of the five foot fence, then proceeded to swing his body over it. It wasn’t the most graceful landing, but it was still rather impressive. He wiped his hands along his denim covered thighs and sighed. “Getting too old for that.” He made a beeline to the empty chair and sat down across from Julie. “I really appreciate you and your mom going to all this trouble.”

“Least we could do. Mom did most of the work.” She lifted the tray cover and revealed the bowls of pasta and meatballs.  

Dean’s eyes widened. “Oh, man.”

Julie smiled at the eagerness on his face. She got lost in the perfection again and then remembered her manners. She lifted up from her seat and put his bowl in front of his place setting. Then did the same with hers. A quick deposit of the tray and its cover found her back in her seat. “I do have some dessert I made last night, if you’re still hungry after all this food.”

He shot his gaze up to lock with hers. “Pie?” The seriousness in his voice caused her core to pulse. And, she finally got the chance to inspect the color of his eyes. They were the most interesting, mercurial shade of green she’d ever seen.

“Uh, no. Apple cobbler.”

“Whew.” He shook his head. “I was going to have to marry you if you said pie.” Dean gave her a wink and grabbed a fork. He straightened in his seat and held the utensil upright - a soldier manning his weapon, readying at the front lines of a battle.

Julie laughed. “Pie’s the clincher, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.” He emphasized the short phrase in a sinful, sexy tone. His eyebrows raised, hopeful. “I’m starving.”

Julie motioned to his bowl. “Please. Go ahead and start.”

He grinned and stabbed at one of the large meatballs, biting into it with abandon. Julie held back another giggle as the sauce dripped down his chin. The moan that escaped his throat halted any feelings of amusement and stirred up want. Were his slow, methodical chews and utter bliss displayed on his face intentionally trying to elicit another feeling of hunger from her? Julie watched the entire show, realizing before it was too late that her eyes had widened on instinct. He gulped and finally wiped the dribbles off his face with a napkin. His Adam’s apple bobbed with some additional swallows. “Phew.” He sighed. “Hell. That’s… your mom made these?”

Julie nodded.

He shook his head. “She’s a national treasure.” Dean took his time again to savor the flavors of his next bite. When he came up for air, he asked, “How are you not the size of a linebacker with a mom that cooks like this?” The look on his face held no malice, but genuine wonder.

Julie focused on her bowl for a few seconds. “I was a chubby kid. I still love food. It’s taken decades to learn and practice moderation. The struggle is real. If mom lived with me full time, the temptation to eat would be too great.” Her mouth dipped into a slight frown, surprised at herself and the intimate confession.

Dean shoveled some of the penne into his mouth next, hunched over his bowl. “Yeah. Food’s awesome.”

She sat in silence, taking in the situation. A weird energy, a co-mingling of their polarizing personalities circling the table, had her unsteady, unsure. This Dean teetered between ladykiller to adolescent within seconds. How much was an act and how much was real? It certainly was turning into an unpredictable afternoon.

The fork scooted pasta like a pushbroom in Julie’s bowl.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” Dean asked.

Julie raised an eyebrow. Is that a trick question?

“The whole food thing?” He shook his head and straightened in the seat. “I can get a little carried away.”

She glanced down and noted his empty bowl. How the hell did he eat that fast? “When was the last time you had a home-cooked meal?”

A tiny, wistful smile crooked up the side of his mouth. Eyes popped open when he spotted the Italian bread on another plate. He snagged a slice and mopped up the remaining sauce. “Over a year. Friend back in South Dakota. She’s a good cook, too.”

“Is that where you’re from?”

“Nope.” He stuffed the bread in his mouth. His whole face got it in on the chewing action. This lasted for some seconds.

Nice avoidance tactic.

“How about you? I know you just moved here and your mom is back in the city. Did you grow up in Wilmington?”

Julie nodded, occupying her mouth with a forkful of pasta. Two can play at that game, Mr. Winchester.

He seemed to pick up on the dueling defenses. He whipped out a cocky grin that relinquished her of any weapons left in her arsenal. She cleared her throat and dropped her gaze away from his. The slow lean back by Dean caused the wicker of his chair to strain and creak. When she looked up, he stared her down with an unwavering focus. His broad shoulders increased his amount of personal space and took up more of Julie’s. “What’s the story with your mom and the fumigation?”  

He’s trying to find some neutral territory. Julie cleared her throat. “My mom takes a lot of pride in keeping her house clean and tidy, inside and out. The owners of the row home next to her had left their property unattended and unkempt for so long... I’d hear about it every time I called. Bug and rodent problem had gotten to an unacceptable level about six months back. Complaints by neighbors, including mom, eventually earned a visit by code enforcement officers. Mom thinks the owner had died and the property was never claimed by any relatives. All of that led to a quick sheriff sale. Now, the new owners are doing what needs to be done to remedy the situation. And, if they were going to fumigate the home for pests, they told mom, it would be in her best interest to do the same. Or, she might have some new critters sharing her space.”

“How bad was it at her house? Bugs?”

“I was paying a pest service to do monthly treatments. My mom has a pretty high tolerance level when it comes to roughing it. But, thank goodness the other neighbors joined together to complain. Us doing it wasn’t enough.” Julie smiled. “She gets frustrated when she can’t take care of something herself.”

He smiled. “I kind of got that vibe.”

Let’s give this another try. “I’ve noticed you don’t have a set work schedule. Gone for a couple of days or even weeks at a time. What do you do for a living?”

His brow wrinkled with a raise of both eyebrows. “You’ve been paying attention to my comings and goings?” His expression was stern, unmoving.

“N-no. I haven’t.” Shit. “The view from my office looks right over into…” Abort. Abort. Her lips clamped shut.

He grinned. “Oh, so you’ve been spying on me? Hm, I’m getting a little rusty in my old age, I guess. I usually have a great sense of when I’m being watched.” A shrug. “But, maybe that’s because you don’t seem like you’d be a threat.” One brow raised this time. “Should I be worried?”

Julie shook her head. “You must flirt for a living.”

He laughed. “Only when my job requires it.”

She gulped and took a stab at some forwardness. “Are you on the job now?”

He shook his head. A hard stare at her lips ended with a lick of his own. “Nope.”

Breathe, Jules. “Good. Should I bring out some dessert?”

His demeanor shifted and he turned rigid. “As much as I’d enjoy that, I probably shouldn’t.”

“Oh.” Julie smiled. “Watching your figure?”

“I just need to get going.” He stood up.

“Oh.” The word fell out of her mouth, flat, defeated. She got up with haste and grabbed the tray to clean up. “Sure. Sorry.”

He was already stacking the bowls and corralling utensils. “No. I apologize. But, I really appreciated this. Thanks.”

Julie nodded and threw everything on the tray.

“Let me get the door for you.”

“You don’t have to.” She made a beeline for the house, desperate to escape, up the stone path to the concrete landing.

Dean double-timed his steps to get to the door before she did. Damn, he’s fast. His arm locked in front of her, hand resting on the door handle. “Really, Julie, thank you. I’m happy to take care of your lawn whenever I’m doing mine.” His soft smile reached to his eyes. Even the crinkles around his eyes are sexy. How is that even fair? “Free of charge. No food necessary.”

Her lips tightened and she managed a nod. She realized he wasn’t going to open the door until she said something. She replied, “If you have time, when you’re around. That’d be great. Thanks.”

He nodded, looking pleased with himself and pulled on the handle. She stepped up and in, placing the tray on the coffee table. She expected him to have disappeared when she turned back to the door. Instead, his frame took up most of the open doorway and he leaned in slightly. His gaze darted around the living room in a somewhat nosy fashion. He likes to spy, too.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke when his stare fell back on Julie. “You and your mom seem like good people.” He shrugged. “I don’t have much experience with the neighbor stuff. Or, normal stuff in general.”

Her arms folded over her chest in a defensive posture. Gorgeous or not, the seesaw behavior was exhausting and making Julie edgy. She pointed behind him. “Letting bugs in.”

“Oh.” He pointed to the living room. “Can I come in for a second?”

Hot or not, letting a veritable stranger into her house wasn’t a Julie move. “No offense, Dean. But, we just met.” She motioned for him to scoot. His brows lifted in surprise, but he obliged and shuffled backward. She met him on the concrete walkway, closed the door, and waited.

The atmosphere was heavy and thick with awkwardness. He rubbed a hand on his thigh, only solidifying how very easy on the eyes he was. “It’s just… I’ve pieced together you’re going through a not so great time, relationship-wise.”

She thrummed fingers on her forearm. “My mother probably spelled it out for you. I don’t think any piecing of facts was necessary.”

He shook his head. “Well, she didn’t tell me everything. But, I do know if you had a guy that took care of you the way he should… I wouldn’t be enjoying your company and having a great meal that your mother cooked.”

She felt her eyes crinkle. Not in any way as sexy as his crinkles. “I’m sorry if we came across as desperate for a man’s help.”

A hand raised in defense and he tilted his head back. “Whoa, whoa. I’m thinking I’m the one that came across as desperate back there.” The hand dropped down in a slow and purposeful wave, as if he was on a game show presenting a grand prize. “Sweetheart, the last thing I see when I look at you is desperation.”

Her mouth shut at his compliment.

“Like I said, you seem like a great woman. And, maybe I can learn some neighborly tips from you. When I’m around.” He grinned.

“Okay.” She smiled. “Give me a minute? I have one more tip to share with you.” He opened his mouth to reply, but she had turned to dash into the house.

I raised you better, Giulia.

She returned quick as she could with a covered paper plate. Dean’s mouth turned up in a smile. God, I so could get used to seeing that smile on a regular basis. “Some apple cobbler.” She clarified.

“Awesome.” He licked his lips looking down at the plate she held. He offered her his cell phone, already open to a new contact page. “Should get your number. You know, in case something happens in the neighborhood.” The attempt at an innocent smile was downright comical.

She grinned as they exchanged items. “Good idea.” Her finger tapped info into the screen and then handed the phone back.

He slid the phone into his front jean pocket. “Thank you.” The plate tipped in his hand. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

“I hope so. You’ll have to let me know how much.”

“Will do. Have a good night, Julie.”

“You too, Dean.”

Part 4 

Series Page

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to a special edition of FiveThirtyEight’s weekly politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

sarahf (Sarah Frostenson, politics editor): Just what is going on in Nevada? On Wednesday, we had maybe our most spirited debate of the primary cycle yet, but what isn’t clear is how it did — or didn’t — affect the race. (Remember, despite capturing many, many headlines, former New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg isn’t actually on the ballot there.)

To some extent, the polling picture in Nevada is actually quite clear. Of the few recent polls we do have, Sen. Bernie Sanders sits atop nearly all of them, and according to our primary forecast, he has a 75 percent chance of winning the most votes there. Our model still gives former Vice President Joe Biden a 1 in 9 chance of pulling off an upset victory, former South Bend, Indiana, Mayor Pete Buttigieg a 1 in 15 shot and Sen. Elizabeth Warren a 1 in 20 shot. (Philanthropist Tom Steyer and Sen. Amy Klobuchar’s odds are a bit more underdog-ish, at 1 in 50 and 1 in 100, respectively.)

But as we know from New Hampshire, debates can matter. And Nevada is just a really hard state to poll, so what should we be keeping an eye on heading into the caucuses on Saturday?

clare.malone (Clare Malone, senior political writer): I’m reticent to say that the Nevada polls give us a clear picture of the race. I feel like it’s perhaps better to come with a more collective open mind, while acknowledging that Sanders is the front-runner numerically.

micah (Micah Cohen, managing editor): Yeah, I’d be very cautious with our Nevada forecast at the moment. It can only work with the polls it has, and there obviously haven’t been any post-debate polls yet. It’s always hard to predict these things but I’d bet that debate could swing the polls by a lot.

sarahf: Right, there are only five polls of Nevada for all of February. I hear you.

That said, Sanders has consistently done pretty well.

micah: But would anyone be surprised by a last-minute Warren surge in Nevada? Akin to Klobuchar’s in New Hampshire?

clare.malone: That’s one thing I’ve been turning over in my head, Micah. Is Warren a really good cultural fit for Nevada?

And by cultural fit I mean: She’s originally from Oklahoma and her professional work is inextricably linked with the housing crisis, which hit Nevada hard. She’s got the kind of working class background that could potentially resonate in a state whose caucuses are union-dominated. So maybe Nevada is a potential comeback state for her?

sarahf: I could definitely see a Warren comeback. One wild card, though is that this the first time Nevada has offered early voting, and so that means there were already nearly 75,000 votes cast before the debate last night.

It’s an important reminder that this is already happening in a number of Super Tuesday states, too — including California, which is the biggest delegate prize. I’m not sure it’ll matter, but I am intrigued by how it factors in.

clare.malone: Yes, I mean, I think the big roadblock for a potential Warren surge is what you say, Sarah — her poor showing in the first two states and a ream of voters who have already made up their minds.

And I will say, the fact that Nevada is union-dominated could DEFINITELY work against her in the sense that the unions seem to prefer Biden, or at least seem to prefer a more traditionally Democratic mainstream choice.

micah: Agreed. But, and Nate pointed this out on the podcast, most people who vote early are people who already have their minds made up. That is, there are still plenty of voters who haven’t voted, and those voters are more likely to be ones who Warren would presumably have a chance to win over because they’re undecided.

But going back to the “Is Warren a good fit for Nevada?” question, all the shared characteristics/experiences Clare highlights are dead on. But also … hmmm, how do I say this … I wonder how voters in Nevada will react to a forceful debate strategy by a female candidate.

That is, do voters consciously or subconsciously view Warren’s performance through a sexist/gendered lens? Most likely, right?

sarahf: Why Nevada more so than any other state?

perry (Perry Bacon Jr., senior writer): Right, that might apply to all 50 states.

micah: True. But Nevada’s population also has a smaller share of college-educated adults than the average state.

clare.malone: I think Nevada is a state that’s got a lot of Democratic primary voters who haven’t been as tuned-in to the primary process as those in Iowa or New Hampshire, which makes it a more useful barometer.

And I think Micah’s point is perhaps that some of those people might be more likely to have an unvarnished response to Warren and won’t have seen their response to her filtered through a months-long primary process lens.

The smart thing I think she did in her closing remarks at the debate was to say, I’ve been in politics for the least amount of time of anyone up here.

micah: Actually, I take some of this back: It looks like Nevada has a decent record of electing women …

clare.malone: I’m always skeptical of how people react to female presidential candidates, though … But point well taken.

micah: Totally agree — is the presidency different? (I think yes, but we don’t know that in a research sense.)

perry: I tend to think that Warren’s performance increased her chances of being one of the candidates who gets to 15 percent in several Super Tuesday states. She will get more media coverage out of this debate — I am still fairly bearish on that prospect.

sarahf: That certainly seems reasonable to me. She did have a strong debate performance, and as we saw with Klobuchar in New Hampshire, it really could impact voters who are still deciding. That said … I’m not sure I agree with this take from journalist Peter Hamby, but it did give me pause about Bloomberg’s performance and what that could mean for how Warren is perceived.

The Bloomberg commentary tonight reminds me of this from the second Trump/Hillary debate in 2016 https://t.co/0llnmwf4Bu

— Peter Hamby (@PeterHamby) February 20, 2020

Which brings us to the million dollar question of Wednesday’s debate: Did Bloomberg’s performance shake things up?

micah: I think that Hamby take is wrong (and he’s super smart). The key difference: This is a primary. That was a general. A bad debate performance in a general election is typically mollified, in terms of its impact on the vote, by partisanship. In a primary, voters are much more likely to switch between candidates. See Marco Rubio, New Hampshire, 2016.

clare.malone: I think Bloomberg’s performance definitely helped Biden.

sarahf: More than say, Warren, Clare?

clare.malone: Well, I think Bloomberg and Biden are inextricably linked. Bloomberg’s entire rise is premised on Biden’s fall. When Bloomberg falls, Biden rises.

Bloomberg was meant to be seen as the more effective moderate option, given Biden’s mediocre showing … and then Bloomberg had a mediocre showing.

micah: Yeah, I agree with that. If Bloomberg falls, it both directly and indirectly helps Biden. It helps him in terms of actual voters available, it helps Biden seem more liberal, it does a lot! The question on Warren feels somewhat more separate, although she’s certainly competing with Bloomberg for press attention.

perry: If Bloomberg had been great, that would have hurt basically everyone. There are a lot of Democrats who are going to just vote for someone and aren’t that moderate or liberal or ideologically committed.

So Bloomberg’s lackluster debate performance was good for Biden but also Buttigieg, Klobuchar — really, all of them.

But there’s another debate on Tuesday and Bloomberg’s ads run everywhere all of the time. I don’t think this precludes him from doing well on Super Tuesday.

clare.malone: I agree with that. I’m not entirely sure nervous Democratic voters will be ready to count him out.

One thing I take from that series of Pete Hamby tweets is: Sometimes it’s hard to tell what voters will tolerate!

sarahf: 2016 shook my confidence in understanding what voters want.

clare.malone: Lol

LOT GOING ON THERE.

micah: It doesn’t preclude Bloomberg from doing well on Super Tuesday, but it weirdly complicates the path for Sanders before then. Sanders is sitting atop national polls, atop Nevada polls and in a close second in South Carolina polls. As long as the Biden-Bloomberg-Buttigieg-Klobuchar lane was muddled, Sanders’s position is extra safe. Basically, he can win states with 25 to 30 percent of the vote.

But if Biden can get some momentum off of a Bloomberg decline (and maybe also Buttigieg and Klobuchar as they didn’t do much to help themselves), maybe Biden can … win Nevada?!?! Or crush it in South Carolina?

sarahf: Speaking of Biden … he really needs to finish second (or first!) in Nevada, right? Granted, it’s still only the third state to vote, but it’s the first one that isn’t 90 percent white, so it’s also sort of an important litmus test for candidates who have struggled to build diverse coalitions. (Warren, Buttigieg, Klobuchar — really everyone except Biden and Sanders, right?)

What should we be looking for there on Saturday? Currently, Sanders seems to hold an edge among Latino voters, but it’s not insurmountable as Amelia Thomson-DeVeaux and Nathaniel Rakich wrote on Thursday:

Sanders is highly favored by Latino voters in Nevada

Top Democratic candidates’ support among poll respondents who identified as Hispanic or Latino (depending on the poll), in six polls conducted since Feb. 9

Pollster Sanders Biden Steyer Warren Buttigieg Klobuchar Data for Progress 66% 7% 8% 5% 4% 7% WPA Intelligence 50 13 9 11 9 0 Beacon Research* 33 16 18 14 7 3 Univision 33 22 12 6 8 1 Mason-Dixon 31 34 3 6 7 5 Point Blank Political 20 8 29 8 12 4

*Internal poll for the Steyer campaign.

Source: Polls

clare.malone: Yeah, I think that Biden needs to make up a lot of ground in Nevada and South Carolina in order to save face (and save his campaign).

micah: Totally. My hunch is that Biden could have sold the media on “Iowa and New Hampshire aren’t representative — wait for Nevada and South Carolina.” But his campaign seemed to be selling “Iowa and New Hampshire aren’t representative — wait for South Carolina. (Nevada? Oh, don’t worry about that.)” And Nevada is actually more representative of the party, as Perry has written. So that was a hard sell.

clare.malone: If he makes a weak showing in Nevada, I think that could have them worried about his gold-standard state, South Carolina.

micah: I think he needs to do “well” in Nevada.

“Well” = “whatever the media decides ‘well’ equals”

clare.malone: Win/place/show?

Or just win/place?

sarahf: No more fourth-place finishes.

micah: Maybe he needs to finish above all the other candidates in the moderate lane?

Or does he also need to finish above Warren?

perry: I think I have in my head something like this for Nevada: Sanders, Biden, Warren, Buttigieg, Steyer, Klobuchar, with the last four kind of bunched up in high single digits and low teens. That’s just my assumption from seeing the various polls. If Biden is below second, I think there will be more super-negative coverage of him. And that can make South Carolina harder to win too.

sarahf: I agree that anything other than a second-place finish for Biden in Nevada is hard to spin if part of your explanation for doing poorly in New Hampshire and Nevada is that they aren’t representative. Plus, and as Micah said, Nevada is actually more representative of the Democratic Party than South Carolina. And 13 percent of the 2016 caucus electorate was black, according to the entrance polls, so if Biden’s pitch is I can win over black voters and build a diverse coalition, a lot is on the line for him there.

micah: Yeah, and as Geoffrey Skelley has written, Biden has lost a lot of support since Iowa and New Hampshire — among people of all races but also black voters. In other words, black voters aren’t some kind of special firewall for Biden.

So if Biden claws some of that back, it would help him in Nevada as well as South Carolina.

IDK, I just feel like this is a moment in the campaign when we might see a ton of volatility.

clare.malone: And if he loses South Carolina he might have to drop out.

Just sayin’

perry: I think Super Tuesday is so close now that I don’t think any candidate should drop out.

Early voting is already happening in some of those states. I’m not predicting what Biden will do, but he should not drop out after South Carolina if Super Tuesday is three days later.

micah: Biden could finish fourth in Nevada and lose in South Carolina and drop out and that would not at all surprise me.

Biden could win Nevada (or finish in a strong second), run away with South Carolina and be leading in national polls by the time we reach Super Tuesday, and that would not surprise me.

clare.malone: But I think if Biden can’t prove viability in South Carolina, it would be pretty humiliating.

perry: So in most of these states and the Democratic primary overall, I think the plurality of voters are white voters who do not support Sanders. So I think Micah is right — that speaks to the potential volatility of the race.

Super Tuesday has a lot of states with black/Latino populations larger than Iowa and New Hampshire, but still some states where it’s not that high. That’s why I think a Buttigieg or Klobuchar can win, say, Virginia if they perform well among college-educated white voters in particular and white voters overall.

sarahf: But if, as you say, Perry, there is a plurality of white voters who are on Team Anyone But Sanders, wouldn’t it behoove someone from the moderate lane who had disappointing finishes in Nevada and South Carolina to drop out? I wouldn’t put it past at least someone dropping out after Nevada.

Is that misguided?

perry: I don’t know what you get from dropping out.

micah: This isn’t based on anything in particular, but I would expect a couple dropouts before Super Tuesday.

You get to avoid humiliation.

sarahf: Also, potentially you avoid a messy contested convention, which I think has to factor into some of this? Or, if the storyline that many party insiders oppose his nomination is to be believed, I can imagine some members of the party pressuring candidates to drop out so there can be an alternative to Sanders.

micah: I think that’s right.

perry: If the moderate lane was coordinating to avoid Sanders winning, yes, one or two of them should drop out. Bloomberg’s campaign sent out a memo yesterday saying exactly that. It would be smart for some moderate bigwig (like House Speaker Nancy Pelosi) to encourage this.

micah: This is why I think the Nevada debate wasn’t great for Sanders. I thought Sanders had a fine debate on Wednesday night. Certainly we would expect his support to at the very least not go down. But he was leading in Nevada and rising in South Carolina and leading in a lot of Super Tuesday states.

The BLOOMBERG BOMBS storyline just introduces a ton of potential volatility — particularly in terms of how the moderate lane does or does not consolidate — and because the status quo was pretty great for Bernie. Volatility is potentially bad for him.

But maybe the party won’t actually move to fight a Sanders nomination.

perry: At this point, I just don’t see a lot of evidence that the moderate lane candidates are being realistic about their chances or are focused on boosting one member of that group, as opposed to themselves.

micah: It’s certainly hard to imagine Buttigieg and Klobuchar and Bloomberg cooperating with each other at the moment!

perry: The big question is whether that has to happen before Super Tuesday.

What the Bloomberg people were saying is that the coordination needs to happen now.

micah: Mathematically it kinda does, right?

sarahf: What is it, 38 percent of delegates are awarded by then?

perry: Like of course Klobuchar drops out after Super Tuesday, but they need her to drop out now.

sarahf: I think there is an incentive for moderate Democrats who are hand wringing over Sanders to consolidate ASAP.

micah: Yeah. This is why our forecast has such a high chance of no one winning a majority of pledged delegates:

sarahf: To bring it home … does this mean Nevada might actually be really important this year? It feels as if the media often kind of skips over Nevada in preparation for South Carolina.

perry: If Nevada results in one of these candidates packing it in, then yes, it matters.

clare.malone: It matters more because of the failures of the earlier states.

The field is just muddled in this way that feels unusual.

micah: It is unusual!

perry: Sanders winning three states in a row will be big no matter what. And another candidate winning Nevada would be huge. So I think Nevada matters hugely.

[libertariantaoist]

History, in general, only informs us what bad government is.

To preserve our independence, we must not let our rulers load us with perpetual debt. We must make our election between economy and liberty, or profusion and servitude. . .I place economy among the first and most important of republican virtues, and public debt as the greatest of the dangers to be feared.

Peace, commerce and honest friendship with all nations; entangling alliances with none.

The natural progress of things is for liberty to yield and government to gain ground.

Timid men prefer the calm of despotism to the tempestuous sea of Liberty.

To compel a man to furnish contributions of money for the propagation of opinions which he disbelieves and abhors, is sinful and tyrannical.

In matters of Power, let no more be heard of confidence in men, but bind him down from mischief by the chains of the Constitution.

The care of every man's soul belongs to himself. But what if he neglect the care of it? Well what if he neglect the care of his health or his estate, which would more nearly relate to the state. Will the magistrate make a law that he not be poor or sick? Laws provide against injury from others; but not from ourselves. God himself will not save men against their wills.

If we were directed from Washington when to sow and when to reap, we would soon want for bread.

When all government, in little as in great things, shall be drawn to Washington as the Center of all power, it will render powerless the checks provided of one government on another and will become as venal and oppressive as the government from which we separated.

If we can but prevent the government from wasting the labours of the people, under the pretence of taking care of them, they must become happy.

On every question of construction, let us carry ourselves back to the time when the Constitution was adopted, recollect the spirit manifested in the debates, and instead of trying what meaning may be squeezed out of the text, or invented against it, conform to the probable one in which it was passed.

The course of history shows that as a government grows, liberty decreases.

I believe the states can best govern our home concerns and the federal government our foreign ones.

The policy of the American government is to leave their citizens free, neither restraining nor aiding them in their pursuits.

A strong body makes a strong mind. As to the species of exercise I advise the gun. While this gives moderate exercise to the body it gives boldness, enterprise and independence to the mind. Let your gun, therefore, be the constant companion of your walks.

The man who reads nothing at all is better educated than the man who reads nothing but the newspapers.

I am not a friend to a very energetic government. It is always oppressive.

Single acts of tyranny may be ascribed to the accidental opinion of a day. But a series of oppressions, begun at a distinguished period, and pursued unalterably through every change of ministers, too plainly proves a deliberate systematic plan of reducing us to slavery.

The principle of spending money to be paid by posterity, under the name of funding, is but a swindling futurity on a large scale.

Money, not morality, is the principle of commercial nations.

The future inhabitants of [both] the Atlantic and Mississippi states will be our sons. We think we see their happiness in their union, and we wish it. Events may prove otherwise; and if they see their interest in separating why should we take sides? God bless them both, and keep them in union if it be for their good, but separate them if it be better.

Dependence leads to subservience.

When angry, count ten before you speak; if very angry, a hundred.

If a law is unjust, a man is not only right to disobey it, he is obligated to do so.

If people let government decide what foods they eat and what medicines they take, their bodies will soon be in as sorry a state as are the souls of those who live under tyranny.

An elective despotism was not the government we fought for.

Rightful liberty is unobstructed action according to our will within limits drawn around us by the equal rights of others. I do not add "within the law," because law is often but the tyrant's will, and always so when it violates the rights of the individual.

Tyranny is defined as that which is legal for the government but illegal for the citizenry.

Whensoever the General Government assumes undelegated powers, its acts are unauthoritative, void, and of no force.

Congress has not unlimited powers to provide for the general welfare, but only those specifically enumerated.

When a man assumes a public trust, he should consider himself public property.

The issue today is the same as it has been throughout all history, whether man shall be allowed to govern himself or be ruled by a small elite.

Nothing gives one person so much advantage over another as to remain always cool and unruffled under all circumstances.

I never consider a difference of opinion in politics, in religion, in philosophy, as cause for withdrawing from a friend.

The ground of liberty is to be gained by inches, and we must be contented to secure what we can get from time to time and eternally press forward for what is yet to get. It takes time to persuade men to do even what is for their own good.

The spirit of resistance to government is so valuable on certain occasions, that I wish it to be always kept alive. It will often be exercised when wrong but better so than not to be exercised at all. I like a little rebellion now and then. It is like a storm in the atmosphere.

It is error alone which needs the support of government. Truth can stand by itself.

The legitimate powers of government extend to such acts only as are injurious to others. But it does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are twenty gods, or no god. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.

[Political] offices are as acceptable here as elsewhere, and whenever a man cast a longing eye on them, a rottenness begins in his conduct.

I have sworn upon the altar of god, eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man.

A wise and frugal government which shall restrain men from injuring one another, which shall leave them otherwise free to regulate their own pursuits of industry and improvement, and shall not take from the mouth of labor the bread it has earned. This is the sum of good government.

Sometimes it is said that man cannot be trusted with the government of himself. Can he, then, be trusted with the government of others?

I have ever deemed it fundamental for the United States never to take active part in the quarrels of Europe. Their political interests are entirely distinct from ours. Their mutual jealousies, their balance of power, their complicated alliances, their forms and principles of government, are all foreign to us. They are nations of eternal war.

Experience [has] shown that, even under the best forms [of government], those entrusted with power have, in time and by slow operations, perverted it into tyranny.

Laws that forbid the carrying of arms, disarm only those who are neither inclined, nor determined to commit crimes. Such laws make things worse for the assaulted and better for the assailants. They serve rather to encourage than to prevent homicides, for an unarmed man may be attacked with greater confidence than an armed man.

Our legislators are not sufficiently apprized of the rightful limits of their power; that their true office is to declare and enforce only our natural rights and duties, and to take none of them from us.

I would rather be exposed to the inconveniences attending too much liberty than to those attending too small a degree of it.

My reading of history convinces me that most bad government results from too much government.

If there be any among us who wish to dissolve the Union or to change its republican form, let them stand undisturbed, as monuments of the safety with which error of opinion may be tolerated where reason is left free to combat it.

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[rwbyremnants]

WARNINGS: Awkward dinner, kink club, violet wand, hard domming, voyeurism, whipping with a riding crop, trampling, bondage, hogtying, toe-biting, fingering, strapon sex.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! We hope you enjoy, and you can also spot the Always Open reference~

=Chapter 5

Three weeks later, and that arrangement was still going strong. There was still bowling each week, but in addition, there were the odd nights where Winter would call and pick Qrow up, particularly after a stressful or boring day. Of course, it was never something Qrow minded.

However, today was a slightly different meeting. Dinner, and general chatting, so Winter said. It was an offer that surprised Qrow, and yet he didn't question it. He was happy that someone else could tolerate his company without eventually fobbing him off or trying to convince him to stop his drinking in some way. Alas, for tonight he was on his best behaviour, and waited outside the restaurant as Winter asked.

When she arrived, the elder of the Schnee sisters was dressed rather modestly, even for Winter. A long, black dress with a high neckline that revealed almost nothing, and a warm cardigan of navy blue that complemented her low heels and handbag. A very sensible but elegant outfit, completed by diamond earrings and a matching teardrop pendant.

"Early, I see," she said with a pleasant smile. "How unlike you. Welcome, but unlike you."

Turning toward her, he found Winter Schnee was a sight to take his breath away. He couldn't help but gaze up and down that elegant figure of hers, taking it all in. But realising he was still leaving her hanging for an answer, he cleared his throat. "Well, I gotta impress someone, I guess. Might as well be you."

Chuckling, she gestured toward the entrance to the moderately fancy place she had chosen. It wasn't terribly high-end, which had been a deliberate decision; if he decided to do the "gentlemanly" thing and insisted on picking up the check, it wouldn't cost him half of his rent payment.

"Shall we?"

He nodded, holding out his arm for her as they paced inside. Even if they weren't together, it seemed like the correct gesture to make. Something as formal as her attire. Which made him realise something about his simple jacket and slacks. "I feel a little underdressed."

"Compared to me? Yes. In general, not at all; you look lovely." She leaned over, so she wouldn't be overheard by the others waiting around in the lobby of the restaurant for a table. "Haven't I told you how much I like you in that black necktie? Really suits you."

Raising an eyebrow, he smiled right back at her, leaning in toward her again just before the waiter came over to seat them, giving a quick wink. "I'll remember that and wear it more often, then."

"Table for two?" their formally dressed waiter asked, one who really did put Qrow to shame for his choice in attire. Not that he appeared too concerned of that.

Nor did Winter, as she replied, "We have a reservation, under Schnee?" The waiter nodded his understanding, and turned toward the maître d'.

"Ah, here you are," the middle-aged woman said with a smile, barely glancing at the book in front of her. "We aren't terribly busy tonight; if you'd like, we can get you our best seat, or the one you already reserved."

"The best," Winter said without missing a beat.

"Oh, you really are pulling out all the stops tonight," he couldn't help but comment as they followed their waiter toward the table. So she'd reserved in advance, had she? One would assume they really were a couple from the setting of the restaurant. Fancy, but nothing over the top; certainly romantic, however. The few people that were already inside were all couples, happily talking to one another and even exchanging the few loving gazes and words.

Once seated, the waiter gave them both menus and asked after drinks. Winter didn’t hesitate. "Let's have… a bottle of a merlot. Something simple for a simple evening. Unless you have another preference?" she said to Qrow.

This was the challenge. Usually it would have been beer, or else something stronger. Or he'd have had at least one by now on his own means, even before getting to the dinner location. But while the temptation was there to have a drink, he instead put his hand up and shook his head. For once, he wanted to be on top form.

"Just water for me, thanks."

"Hold on," she whispered - but she wasn't going to do what he had feared and insist on the wine. "We'll both have a juice cocktail. Are you ready?" The waiter held his hand poised over his order pad, already writing. "Half orange, a quarter pineapple, a quarter cranberry. No ice. Oh, and one of those little umbrellas - for mine." Her eyes were full of mirth when they turned back to Qrow for his approval.

Having to take that in for a moment, he blinked before nodding his head and agreeing, "U-uh, yeah. What she said, for me, as well."

"If you insist." The waiter jotted down the order just as Winter described, giving a nod before they headed back over to the bar area to prepare it.

Once they were alone again, Qrow leant forward against the table. "You didn't have to do that for me, you coulda had wine."

"Well…" Sighing, she glanced over at the bar. "I've never known you to turn down liquor, and wondered… well, if you were starting AA or something. Not that you have to be to have a dry night! But, if you were, it would be rude of me to drink right in front of you."

Rolling his eyes, he leant straight back in his chair again, sighing outwardly as he grabbed the menu. "You wish. I just figured this is a fancy-schmancy dinner and I oughtta be sober for it, so I'd try to be."

"Then I appreciate your consideration. Even if you're rolling your eyes at mine," she added pointedly before hoisting the menu up to hide her expression. Holding up his own to look at the options, Qrow browsed at his leisure. First he looked toward the starters, debating if to indulge in those or not; and then toward the main entrees.

But as he was browsing, he remembered the events Winter had attended earlier today; lunch with Weiss to discuss baby names now that she was back in the state. Eager to know, he asked, "So, does Weiss know what they’re calling the baby yet?"

"Not even a clue," she said. And left it at that, continuing to glance through the various food items. At length, she decided she had a good order picked out and laid hers aside, drumming her fingertips against the tabletop.

He laughed to himself while continuing to browse. "Really? You spent all day with her and not even a nickname or something?"

To borrow his phrase, she told him shortly, "Nope." Then she picked up her water glass and sipped at it very slowly, gazing out across the crowd. Truth be told, it was partly that everyone else there was a couple that bothered her. She hadn't thought this through, it seemed.

Shrugging his shoulders, he finally put his menu down, folding his arms and resting them on the table. "Fair enough. I suppose you'll all be thinking about that when she's bigger… God, that'll be a sight."

Brought out of her reverie, she asked, "What will?"

Unable to wipe the smirk off his face, he laughed again. "Weiss, when she really starts showing. It's just… she's such a half-pint."

In spite of her now-deflated mood, she did chuckle. "You know, I hadn't thought of that yet. She is on the petite side, isn't she?"

"Is that what the kids call it these days?" Qrow asked playfully, taking a quick sip from his own water as he looked toward her again. As he sighed when finishing it, he laughed. "God, imagine if she's one of those that'll be huge? Poor Yang's the kinda girl who'd wanna carry her everywhere."

"You know, I could see that. She's very supportive. In the literal sense, if that's how things go for her."

Then their juices arrived, and the waiter was ready to take their order. "What will we be having?" she asked Qrow.

"Hmm." He nodded back to her and to Winter, before he lifted the menu one more time. "Gimme the roast with new potatoes. And how about you, my dear?"

Smirking at the form of address, she turned and said, "I'll have the veal scallopini and braised asparagus, with your side Caesar. And please make sure the veal is medium-well done, if you please." Then she folded up the menu and handed it to the waiter, and off she went.

When she had walked enough out of earshot again, Qrow bent forward. "That’s the most uppity sounding order I ever heard."

"Really?" she shot back at him coldly. "I'm sure it's no can of Spam with a spoon like you must be used to, but I enjoy it."

"Wow. Did the temperature just drop, or is it me?" Leaning back in his chair again, he stared off around the restaurant. He wasn't about to dignify that comment with any other answer.

But it was only then that he was noticing the other people present. And all of them were couples. No doubt people would assume the same of them, or at least that it would be a date going rather wrong for Winter. Now he really was beginning to feel conscious in his choice of common clothes.

And Winter wasn't likely to enliven the conversation any further. Qrow had made two mistakes that had nothing to do with his choice of attire, though he would probably be thinking that was all he'd done wrong. She tried to tell herself that she shouldn't expect any more from him, being that he was a man and rather rough around the edges, but she couldn't help it. Her ire was up.

"…So…" Trying to change the subject, at at least get them both talking again, he looked back around. "Do you take many of your doms here?"

"No." She sipped her juice, waiting. Trying to work past her irritation, since he clearly didn't realize he was being irritating in the first place.

"…Right." Clearly she wasn't going to talk to him properly. And so he went to look back around the restaurant, completely oblivious to the fact she was annoyed by something so simple as a comment on her food choice. Scratching his head out of slight nerves, he tried another question. "Is this a place you go to often?"

Glancing over, Winter couldn't help but notice how hard he was trying. Bless his soul, he just had no idea when he was being insensitive or boorish. Sighing through her nose, she finally set her juice down.

"I do tend to take clients here from time to time. But no, I don't normally take… those kinds of clients out to dinner."

Silently mouthing "oh," he nodded his head, taking his juice at last and giving it a try for himself. He didn't exactly know what to expect, but anything that was slightly better than the green that was at Winter's was welcome. The hum that followed once he'd tried it said enough, but he still said, "Hey, that's real nice."

At long last, her smile returned, if small and rather taut. "Well, if you're determined to stay away from the hard stuff tonight, I thought you might like to try something new. Still has a bit of a bite to it from the cranberry, so… so it's something." She realized she was sounding a bit silly, so she stopped.

But it didn't bother Qrow at all. Instead, he smirked back toward her, taking the glass and drinking another sip of it, sighing contentedly afterward. "Well, glad you're thinking of me by ordering something with a kick."

"If it's a kick you want… my offer stands to walk on you." She hid a dark little grin behind her glass now.

"Don't push your luck." But he knew her words were just teasing. It seemed their conversation was back to play again. Although that came with a benefit to Qrow, it was a subject he could at least have some confidence in. "Though I have to admit, I'm curious which clients like being stepped on."

"Oh, you'd never know to look at them. Some of them are the small, waifish men you'd expect, but some are… large, and powerful." Her eyes were pointing dead at Qrow now, sweeping down to the table and back up to his eyes in a slow, methodical movement. "Well-muscled and confident. Yet they get into a play-space, and they want me to fuck them in the ass while wearing fishnet stockings and calling them 'Stacy'. Then, afterward… back to their lives as attorneys, doctors, used car salesmen."

That had Qrow turning completely silent. The image of Winter in those stockings was one he enjoyed in his mind; and even images of her dominating men were rather satisfying. But they were just images, he could never imagine the action itself. Perhaps that was for another reason.

"I just don't picture you as a Dom." He smirked. "Not after the play we've had, anyway."

Shrugging, she looked out over the other patrons. Happily chattering away, posing for selfies together. Leaning in romantically. They all looked quite ridiculous to her, but she knew they must get something out of it. She just couldn't imagine why.

"I'm an excellent Dom, Qrow. I could make you bawl like a baby." Then she turned back, smile completely mild. "But I rarely do that anymore, it's… I always found being on the bottom more satisfying for some reason. Doesn't mean I don't like to switch things up now and then."

"I'm not saying you couldn't Dom," he reassured, folding his arms again and leaning on the table once more. He quickly browsed around to make sure no one was listening, then said quietly, "Just a little difficult to imagine when last time you had a plug in, calling out for mercy while I was paddling you."

"Hmm…" Her eyes rolled upward toward the ceiling as she remembered that scene. "Fair is fair; I did request the paddling. And I couldn't sit the next day, I'll have you know! You have more oomph than I expected!"

Chuckling to himself again, he couldn't wipe the smug grin off his face at all. "You were the one that kept telling me to do it harder! Even if I did have to be gentle when I took you from behind after."

Even though she was obviously enjoying their conversation, she still wasn't blushing; this was not her first time bandying about the subject of BDSM in a public setting. "Your abdomen slamming up into that plug over and over is on my list of very… clear memories now. You were an animal…"

Qrow tilted his head in agreement. He didn't seem to mind either about the conversation topic. That, or he didn't care for the other people around. Instead, he only smirked more. "Well like I said, I'll be taking you in your ass one day. I guess that's preparation."

"That's a privilege you have yet to earn. But… you are on your way, I think."

Just then her salad arrived. The waiter also gave them a basket of breadsticks, so luckily Qrow wasn't forced to watch her eat alone. Giving a quiet nod to the waiter as they paced off again, he looked back toward the meal on Winter's plate. Not as uppity as he first thought. Still, he grabbed one of the breadsticks in the middle of the table to keep his hands busy and to nibble on.

"Looks good."

"Have you had a Caesar salad? You can try a bite if you like." Spearing a bite with her fork, she drew it to her mouth as she pushed her bowl out to one side, so he could better reach if he so chose.

"Might as well give it a try, while I'm waiting for my old fashioned roast beef." Taking his fork, he helped himself to a forkful of leafy greens from her plate, taking them straight into his mouth. For a moment, he chewed slowly to try and savour the flavours within, looking up in thought.

Just around that time, Winter swallowed her own mouthful and was able to ask, "Well?"

"Not bad," he covered enough to say, swallowing the last of it once finished. "It's not meat, but it's alright."

"Oh, is that the rule of measurement? How does it stack up against meat?" Rolling her own eyes this time, she drew the salad back toward herself. "Hopefully you're enjoying your breadsticks more."

"Well, I can think of something that tastes nicer than salads and meat…" Looking back toward her with a sly smirk, he finally took this moment to take a few bites of his breadstick. Just leaving enough time for her to realise what that comment suggested.

At first, her eyebrows went up. Then she had to hide a giggle behind her hand. "Okay… I appreciate the innuendo, but the shape of the breadstick… makes it sound like you're talking about something else." Then she shrugged as she went back to her salad. "Unless you do, in fact, enjoy giving blowjobs."

Eyes snapping open, he found himself suddenly coughing, beating his chest to try and force the remnants of food he had eaten down his throat the rest of the way. Once he could finally breathe again, he shook his head. "Whoa, whoa, The hell kinda guy you think I am?"

"A switch." But she decided to let him off easy. "Don't worry, I'm only teasing. I'll do the fellating around here, I suppose."

Having to take a quick gulp of his drink to settle his throat, he looked back again. "Look, I said I'm up for trying anything, but I'm as straight as they come, sweetheart. I ain't ‘fellating’ any dudes."

"I said a blowjob," she corrected slightly. "I didn't say 'dudes'. You of all people should know those don't necessarily go hand in hand." But she didn't press the point further. Of course, the reason he should know was because of a family member, and the last thing she wanted was to force that image into his brain. Still, it bore mentioning.

"What do you mean they don't go hand in ha- …ohhh, right." That comment certainly made him feel very small, especially when he of all people should have clicked on straight away. He was still a work in progress, after all.

But thankfully, a distraction arrived, in the form of his meal which was slid in front of him by the waiter. "Ah! Right on time. Real beef."

Smiling at the waiter, Winter waited for their two plates to be placed, issued a quiet, "Thank you," then waited for her to depart. When they were alone again, she leaned in and said, "Sorry if it seemed like I was slapping you on the wrist. Just a reminder."

Having already began to distract himself by cutting up the meat on his plate, he gave a small nod. "No, you're right. It's something I have to keep reminding myself. Sometimes I just forget, which is pretty bad considering the niece has been out for… years."

Cutting up her potatoes, Winter thought about that for a moment. Then she paused in her movements. "It's strange, isn't it? Thinking about how long it's been… even just me knowing Yang, it's been years now. Stranger for you."

Swallowing a bite of his meal, he looked back over, shrugging his shoulders. This subject seemed to come up a lot between them. It was funny how in a way, it was because of Yang their arrangement existed. In multiple ways.

"Like I said, I kinda just pretended it wasn't happening. But when she actually started transitioning… it felt weird." However, he then shrugged his shoulders. "Tai and I had a talk about it, and he said it felt weird for him too. But then he reminded me one thing I never forgot; if it feels weird for us, how weird has it felt for her all these years she wasn’t herself?"

"Very true. That's… what I've had to learn the most, what I almost learned too late." Clearing her throat, almost more to head off her own dark thoughts rather than because she needed to, she continued, "Which is why I did a lot of research after that. First online, and then I asked Yang a few questions. I was really thinking so backward about it, that it was a 'lifestyle choice' and so on. Instead of who they are."

"I remember watching a thing about it, some kind of documentary. When they said how common it is, I was kinda shocked." Just as he was about to take another bite of his meal, he stopped himself to laugh a little more. "Heck, I've probably met some trans folk without even realising! Crazy world."

Nodding, she raised a bite of her veal and chewed thoughtfully. Waiting until she stopped, she told him, "I've met one or two others I've known about, but yes, probably more I did not. I mean, if there's anything Yang proves, it's that anything is possible."

"Damn right. If I didn't know her as Ying for as long as I did, I'da thought she was born a girl. It's crazy."

"A very beautiful one at that." Then she thought she might try something. They hadn't done a lot of this back and forth, other than Qrow reassuring her that she was attractive, but perhaps they could change that. "She certainly inherited her looks from your side of the family, I think."

Having just finished more of his beef, he smirked back to her. Yet it was a smirk that didn't particularly seem all too attractive, considering his cheeks were full of food. Although once he swallowed, he nodded. "Yeah, guess us Branwens have always been lookers."

Snorting, she gestured to her own cheek. "You have a little… there."

Tilting his head a moment, he eventually realised what she meant. And immediately grabbed the napkin to dab away at the offending area. That might have been the first time Winter Schnee actually saw her Dom truly blush from embarrassment.

----------------------------------------------------------

Following their food, both of them waived dessert. When Qrow attempted to pick up the check, Winter firmly told the waiter they were going Dutch, and therefore to split the bill. Having paid and finished their second helpings of juice, they walked out into the crisp early evening air.

And kept walking. Instead of going across the street to the parking garage they had used, they were heading along the sidewalk. When they passed through a crosswalk to the next block, it became definite that they were headed somewhere else next.

"So are you gonna give me a hint to what we're getting for dessert?" Qrow hadn't a clue where they were headed. He wasn't particularly a city man, and wasn't even sure if he'd ever been to this area at all. They had already passed a pancake house, so that seemed off the cards. "Is it ice cream or something?"

Still acting as coy as ever, she merely said, "Would you like ice cream?" Meanwhile, she was taking out her phone to send a quick text. She wasn't being particularly shy about what she was typing.

'OMW. Do you have everything?'

'All good on this end. TTYS'

Then she tucked the phone away again as if nothing had ever happened.

"I'm good with whatever; you said it's something special for dessert, so I thought I'd leave you in charge." He had noticed the single text from Winter, the one that said "on my way," but never caught who said contact was. Where was she taking him?

But as they turned down one of the alley ways, that answer was gradually becoming clear. There were one or two doors that lead to the rear entrances of bars and restaurants, but one door had a sign handing above it. One that simply said the words:

"’The Clamp’? What kind of a name is that?"

"What kind of a name is 'Qrow'?" But to show she wasn't truly chiding him, she turned to him and faced him squarely. She had been building up to this moment without truly letting him know what was going on, and now was the time to at least partly reveal her plans for their evening.

"So… you've been wondering where we're going. This is it. There are a few things I want to tell you, and should, but… I'm still not going to tell you everything. Only that you don't have to do a single thing you don't want to do." Her expression was very carefully neutral. "For now, you ought to let me know if you're feeling adventurous tonight. If not, we can go around the corner to a little gelato shop I know. No harm, no foul."

Raising one eyebrow questioningly, Qrow looked again between the neon sign and Winter. He had no idea what to expect from this establishment, but it seemed there was far more than met the eye. Scratching the top of his head, he asked, "Wasn't one of your rules 'no public play' though? Like, if you wanna sit in a back booth and get each other off, sure, but-"

"Not exactly," she headed him off. "I just need to know if you're at least curious. And it sounds like you are, but I can't take it for granted. If you are… there might be a treat waiting for you inside this bar. If not, we'll go do something else." One hand falling to her hip, she quirked an eyebrow and asked, "What do you say?"

That had made things very interesting. She hadn't flat out said it wasn't getting one another going in public, but hadn't confirmed it, either. He was left in a small limbo that had him curious to find out just exactly what was going to happen behind those doors.

With that in mind, he finally asked, "What kind of treat?"

Her lips pursed so she could blow upward to sweep her bangs from her eyes. "You don't do well with birthday surprises, either, do you?" Then she leaned in and grasped his ever-present black tie, tugging him in a little closer. "I said, it's a treat. If I tell you what's going to happen, it won't be. And you won't be required to do anything that's outside your comfort zone; I have a way of making sure you won't. So, are you in, or are you out, Branwen?"

For a moment longer, he looked toward the door once more. What a Pandora’s Box. From what he assumed, it was a club. That meant they'd probably be drinking again. Worst case scenario, he'd be too drunk to do anything; which wasn't exactly a new experience. The way he saw it, there was nothing to lose.

"I'm in."

"Good. Then follow me." She had only taken one step when she turned to look over at him. "Oh, and anytime you want - or need - to leave, just 'remind' me that you have work in the morning. I'll know what you mean." Then she led him in the front door.

When they got inside, everything was a little different than he had been expecting. For one thing, the bartender was wearing a mesh shirt. And it only got stranger. People everywhere were wearing leather. Some of them were somewhat scantily clad, but everyone was more or less covered when it came down to it. Even the furniture tended to be black leather with studs. A few of the patrons were dressed in somewhat casual clothing, though no one was slovenly; even those absent of leather were at least semi-smart. The lighting was rather low, and the music was a pulsing bass beat that was loud enough to make conversations private without making ears bleed.

At first, it seemed like he hadn't noticed. He simply followed behind her and looked around at how the UV lighting made some particular colours bright. Gradually he began to notice people's particular choices in attire. And he had to double take.

Nearly everyone was wearing fetish gear. All in one place. Yet they were all drinking, laughing, talking together as if it was a perfectly regular club. Men and women of all ages and backgrounds, all the same.

"What is this place?!"

"The Clamp," she informed him as if the name had been what he meant. "Come on, order something. If you still don't want a drink, they make fantastic Italian sodas. In fact…"

Walking up to the bar, she didn't even have to open her mouth before the big bear of a man in mesh smiled at her and leaned in. "Princess! What's your pleasure, Majesty?"

"We'll have two Toasted Marshmallows, Texas. Add a shot of gin to mine."

Still in shock, Qrow had to look back and forth between her and the bartender now busy fixing their drinks. He didn't just know her, he knew her pet name; the name she used for their arrangement. Was this a previous Dom? But then again, Winter just pointed out; she knew this place. She knew the drinks it offered, and what was good. That meant one thing:

"You, uh… come here often?"

Looking over her shoulder at him, she raised an eyebrow. "What was your first clue? My knowing it existed, bringing you here…?"

Feeling silly yet again, there was a somewhat obvious redness in his cheeks. Even with the dim lighting of the room!

"I-I uh… I figured, maybe you found it online, or something. Dunno."

She was still smiling bemusedly at him when the two drinks appeared. He didn't even bother to ask for money or whether or not she wanted to start a tab. Apparently, that wasn't necessary where "Princess" was in involved.

"Here," she said, handing him the one without the straw. "No alcohol, but I think you'll like it."

"I think I could use the kick now…" But he took the drink regardless, still attempting to take everything in as he gazed around.

But while he was still getting a grasp on things, the man known as Texas looked back to Winter again, leaning against the bar. "Your friend arrived half an hour or so ago, she's up in room six. I think she shut the visor but she said to just knock and she'll let your pretty little ass in."

"Thank you," she muttered back. Then she turned and sat down, leaning her back against the bar as she sipped at her own. "Didn't expect her to go straight up… but that's alright. I know she's a bit more shy about these things."

"I think she wanted to get changed and ready for you both. She wasn't wearing anything risque when she got here. Though she did take a drink up, so when you get there she should be less shy, if you know what I'm saying."

This conversation was being half-listened to by Qrow, who only just managed to catch the last part. Patting her shoulder to get her attention, he asked, "Wait, wait… we're meeting someone here, too?"

Winter took a long drink, closing her eyes at the sharp-yet-sweet flavour. Any more gin than she had requested would have ruined it; already, it was on the brink of such. But it was still good. Then she turned to him.

"I have arranged… a demonstration. If you're not interested, we can leave now. I understand. But if you are, I do have to remind you of something." Her face grew more serious. "Nothing that happens here leaves here. This isn't just me asking; it's house rules. If you can't abide by that, this entire arrangement is off, and we default to gelato."

"I'd think about your answer, pal,” Texas put in with a semi-sympathetic nod and tone of voice. “Princess here's had this arranged for a couple of weeks. Would be a shame to waste it."

The bartender's words had Qrow thinking more and more. A demonstration; that could mean a lot of things. They could be here to see some kind of fetish show, which although he wasn't opposed to, was something completely new. There were porn videos, sure; but this wouldn't even compare. Something was telling him it would involve Winter in some way, which was another exciting factor.

Finding his heat down in his trousers was answering for him, he eventually turned to the bartender, nodding. "Pour me a double shot of whiskey and it's a deal."

"Oh?" Winter asked with a slight chuckle. "What happened to your night of abstinence?"

"That was before you dragged me to a fetish club, Princess. Got a feeling I’m gonna need it." He made sure to exaggerate her nickname as he looked back to her. But the instant he was handed the small glass with the whiskey, he downed it in one, immediately returning the glass to the bar as he wiped his mouth clean. It didn't even make him shudder like a normal person would.

"Hey, are you too nervous for this?" she asked, out of genuine concern. "I told you that you don't have to-"

"Less talkin, more showin'." He reclaimed the non-alcoholic drink and stepped away from the bar, ready to follow whenever she intended to lead him.

Nodding her understanding, Winter paced away, taking a long drink of her own beverage before she turned towards the back. Dodging around a few tables and couches, she came to the doorway with a curtain that said "restrooms" overhead. Nipping the curtain aside, she immediately turned left and came to a stop before a small desk where a dark-skinned girl was reading a magazine, and the velvet rope - a literal velvet rope - stretched from next to her across the bottom of a staircase.

"Yes?" she asked, looking up - and her expression brightened. "Hey, Princess! Been a minute."

"It has. Would it be alright if I had a guest lanyard for my associate?"

Looking him up and down appraisingly, she reached under the desk and produced a lanyard, the fabric patterned to look like yellow "caution" tape. Hanging from it was a badge that mimicked a STOP sign, except the white letters in the middle said "VISITOR."

It was yet another thing to take in. Never in his life did Qrow think places like this existed, and better yet, never did he think they existed this well-organised. Guidelines, lanyards, penned off areas; everything seemed to have a code. He usually detested any form of rules, but in this case, he was more than happy they existed. For a relatively new Dom, and being new to the community in general, it was reassuring to know there were things in place to protect him. Even if they made the somewhat humiliating lanyard necessary.

But the door-checker was already standing up to let them through. Her violet outfit was fairly modest, but still trimmed with studded black leather; suited to the setting without being completely given over to it.

"Right this way," she bade them with a mild smile, eyes raking up and down Qrow. Apparently, she was as interested in him as in their intentions once they moved along.

Even though he was simply following Winter, he could practically feel the woman's gaze. And he couldn't help but smirk, even sparing a quick wink back toward her before they disappeared up the staircase.

"I think I pulled there," he said smugly once they were out of view and earshot, even slightly nudging Winter to make sure she was listening.

"Oh, do you? Might want to be careful with Cheshire; she's extremely selective, and very high maintenance. A great friend, but a minefield to date, or even to plan a scene with because she doesn't typically do that in the club. Likes to separate work from pleasure."

"Cheshire, huh? Pretty name. I'll have to remember that." Yet again, he tried to look back down the stairs; even if it was impossible to see her anymore, the intention was there. But as they continued to pace up the stairs, the music growing slightly louder, there were even bigger sights than the attire of the bartenders and door-checkers to come.

What was on the ground floor was tame compared to the scene on the upper floor. Or more appropriately put, scenes. Most people were wearing even more revealing gear than on the ground floor, and there were multiple activities going on in different areas of the room. One corner, there was a hot tub, with two women side by side, one wearing a leather uniform while the other was completely naked, only wearing a collar and a leash. Then there was another bar set up like Winter's bedroom, with a man restrained wearing very little, being tickled by multiple people, both men and women. There were plenty more scenes going on in the dim light.

Gazing across the room, Qrow could swear his jaw would have dropped to the ground if it wasn't secure. Suddenly the things he was doing with Winter didn't seem so extreme after all.

"We could do something here in the future," Winter told him offhand, shrugging off her cardigan; the room was a bit warmer than the downstairs, probably because of the hot tub. "Or, we could stop to watch if you're curious. Our appointment upstairs already knows that we're going to take our time getting up there."

"I… uh… is that chick getting fucked in the hot tub?" There was so many different things going on, Qrow had no idea where to focus. People were actually doing their own scenes here, in full view of anyone else in the room. It was a surreal experience, and that was without taking into account the various intriguing sounds that could be heard.

Presently, Winter was approaching a box that was suspended from the ceiling, with a mesh sack draped over the head sticking through one end. Hanging from said box was a sign that said, "Help yourself." Picking up a long, thin wand pulsing with violet light from a nearby stool where it had been placed, she raised it up and grazed it lightly over the backside poking out the other end. The toes of the feet folded underneath it curled from the sparks that shot between said wand and the exposed flesh.

"Thank you," commented the somewhat feminine voice.

"Are you allowed to converse in-scene today?" Winter asked. There was a nod, so she smiled. "How've you been, Candy?"

"Good," Candy sighed. "They busted me down from full-time to part-time, but at least I didn't get laid off. Plus, my benefits package is kicking in despite the pay cut - with my savings, I can look into getting bottom surgery."

Grinning darkly, Winter raised the glass tip of the electrode and touched it against the soft sack hanging down from the sub's ass. The gasp was pronounced and full of pleasure. "Why would you ever want to get rid of these beauties?"

"Just living my truth. And… I'm not in a good space for gender-teasing today."

"It's alright," Winter soothed her, putting down the wand to pet over her bottom gently. "All I meant is you're beautiful the way you are. Your body, your right to change it."

Even through the mesh, there seemed to be a visible smile. "Thanks, Princess. Seriously. Are you here on your own today?"

"Not quite." Her eyes flicked over to Qrow, but she didn't call to him, didn't prompt him to join her. His comfort level was still a top priority.

But it seemed it wasn't a problem. Startled though he was, he didn't seem at all uncomfortable. In fact, he had already been called over by one of the other club members. A much more dominant woman, one with long black hair, and bangs that covered one of her eyes. She had a sub of her own, one who was gagged and had her arms tied behind her back, forced to lay on the ground until anything further happened. Seemed the sudden distraction of “showing the new guy around” played into her favour.

Having listened to the small chat with Candy and noticed which man Winter was looking to, one of the other bartenders, whose only business on these floors was to clear glasses back downstairs, approached Winter, speaking up slightly. "Better get him to watch himself, looks like Cinderella's got her eye on him. I still say she's bad news."

"Oh…" Her eyes darkened when she saw the little brunette. "Well… he can handle himself, but it can't hurt to keep an eye out. Thanks, Junior." Giving Candy a brief slap on the ass by way of a farewell, she began to approach her neophyte Dom.

"The trick is pushing the boundaries. All the time. The closer you get to someone's limit you get, the further you'll push it next time you play." But Cinderella’s lesson to Qrow was interrupted as Winter was pacing toward them. Giving a slight nod as she returned to her subdued sub on the ground, she smirked toward her. "Is he with you, Princess?"

"He is," she told her shortly. "And how about we let him find his own way to his Domming style without your input, shall we? Thank you for offering, though." Her smile was positively poisonous. Not even Qrow, when they had first started talking and she acted as if he were the scum of the earth, had ever been the recipient of a scathing look like that.

"Well, if either of you need any advice from a real Dom, I'll be here. Ta ta." Cinderella was just as practiced at poisonous looks, and even more so with words. The advantage, and disadvantage to a place like this, was that people knew how each other played. And it was common knowledge that 'Princess' was mainly a sub, who Dommed on the odd occasion when she needed it. To anyone else, it would be fine. To Cinderella, it seemed a sign of weakness. That she wasn't a “real” Dom at all.

Qrow however, simply followed. He didn't know what to think, other than assuming he was just talking to another person and getting advice. But it was clear Winter didn't like her as a person. "Okay, so… what's your beef?"

Winter's response was curt as her eyes followed Cindrella. "That little bitch might have actually learned her craft from the Marquis de Sade himself. Don't trust her any further than you can throw her." Then she turned back and sighed, trying to dispel her bad mood. "Shall we move along, or did you want to give Candy a zap or two? Feel free."

"Give Candy a… who is Cand- oh." He spotted the suspended box, and the rather pleasantly exposed rump below. He didn't seem to notice the other small detail that was also exposed, and simply gave a little nervous laugh toward Winter again. "L-Let's move on, shall we? Electro stuff isn't my thing."

"Nor mine, though I'm not strongly opposed to it… should you get curious later," she added with a slight smile, finally relaxing back into her old self. She did however bring them past Candy's head to whisper, "I'll say 'hello' again if you're still here when we're through upstairs."

"Oooh, breaking in the new blood?" Candy's voice was positively purring. "Let me know if he's availab- ahhh, he’s new-new. Sorry, didn't see the sign."

Nodding approvingly, she patted the mesh-covered head. "Quite alright." Then she moved along toward the next set of stairs, which were at the other corner from the one they had ascended. Once out of earshot, she addressed him again.

"That lanyard means more than just you're new; it's a 'hands off'. Generally speaking, Cinderella shouldn't have approached you at all, but… of course, she didn't try to initiate play or drag you into anything. So technically, she did nothing wrong." Her lip curled. "That's how Cind works. Technically, she rarely does anything that can be outright damned, but skirts so close to it that you want to slap her anyway."

Slowly ascending behind her on the stairs, he nodded. Gradually he was beginning to understand the guidelines; no “scenes” downstairs, be respectful to anyone with the lanyards, stick to rules set in play. Even if some scenes were complex, the system wasn't.

Shrugging his shoulders, he admitted, "The pushing limits thing seemed a little… a little too edgy for my liking. She was saying how rare it is that she has a session that doesn't end in a safety word. That seems kinda reckless."

"And she said it as if it were something to be proud of, right? Typical."

By this point, they were in another corridor. It led toward another set of stairs to ascend yet further upward, but there were two other hallways branching off to one side. Winter turned down the first, and glanced along the tops of the doors. A few along, there was one that had a pearl necklace hanging from the handle. Smirking, Winter approached it.

"Alright, Rooster… we're here. Now, you remember what I said about never repeating what goes on here, right?"

"You said it so much it's drilled into my head. Seriously, you act like you're gonna open that door and I'm gonna find someone like Tai or something." But finally he was by her side, and watched eagerly as she opened the door to his surprise.

The first thing that was noticeable about the room was that there was a bench across the far wall, and otherwise it was devoid of furniture. Entirely white. A leather bag dyed violet was on it, half-open and innocent looking enough on its own. And seated by the bag was…

"Ah," Glynda Goodwitch said as her eyes raised from the smartphone she had been scrolling. A fluffy robe that matched her bag shrouded her body in warmth; below its hem she was only wearing two ankle cuffs much like those Winter had worn before. "Excellent, I was hoping it wouldn't be too much lo-"

And she paled when she saw who was standing there. Not only paled, but froze completely. Looking back at her was Winter, and to Glynda's shock, Qrow. The same Qrow who'd been attempting to flirt with her at their bowling games, winding her up more and more. And now he was seeing her in next to nothing, in the middle of a fetish club. Needless to say, his eyes were just as wide as hers.

"God, Winter," she breathed sharply, clutching at the neckline of her robe even though it wasn't open in the slightest. "The nerve of- I can't believe you would-"

"I didn't tell him who he'd be meeting, either," she reassured Glynda as she took the pearls off the doorknob and slipped inside, pulling the door shut. Reaching over to the panel beside the door, she flipped a switch down toward the word "OCCUPIED", and a dim red light began to glow through the door's window. Her next step was to pull a shade down that blocked out said light completely.

Having to blink over and over to try and understand what he was seeing, Qrow eventually looked toward Winter again with the still shocked expression, finally swallowing enough to talk again. "I-uh… Would never have guessed we shared a hobby, Goodwitch."

"Don't!" the woman snapped, standing up and digging in her bag for her shoes. "Oh, I can't believe I came down here for this, that I didn't- YOU, of all the people on the planet! I'd rather have seen Taiyang walk through that door, or my old boss who kept calling me 'thunder thighs'! What am I even doing here?!"

"Hey wait wait wait, hold up…" Holding his hands up in surrender, he tried his best to get Glynda's attention. Lord only knew what this surprise was planned with her, but it seemed like Winter and her had but a lot of planning into it. Even if it wasn't told who would be the other person. Still, once she glared back at him, he shrugged his shoulders. "Winter's been introducing me to the scene and told me the rules here; nothing leaves the building. I had no idea what I was walkin’ into here."

"He didn't," Winter shored him up. "I didn't want to tell him who you were outside of the Clamp, just in case he reacted badly… even though I seriously doubted it would happen."

"But he's QROW!" she burst out, gesturing harshly at the man with her high heel. "He is… a complete Neanderthal, and I thought you and I were on the same page! Besides the fact that I don't like men in the first place!"

That explained a lot. No wonder his attempts at flirting failed so spectacularly; Glynda was a lesbian. If the hint was any bigger, it would slap some reality into them. But as it stood, Qrow remembered the key word.

"Demonstration," he repeated, wandering further into the room for the seat. "That's what you said. I don't gotta get involved, I'll just hang back and watch, of course.”

But Glynda was already shuddering and shaking her head, trying to pull her heels on while standing up so she didn't have to sit next to him. "You know… I was willing to do that, for Wi- for Princess. Because she's the best Dom I know; not the most skilled or the roughest, but the most respectful of boundaries. A truly caring Dom. Probably because she's a sub most of the time, and she understands both sides. But I don’t think I can do this in front of… of you."

Winter walked closer, and Glynda stood her ground, mouth set stubbornly. "Listen, Snowmane. You're going to put on a show for my master, and for me. And you're really, really going to like it. But I understand finding out who my new master is makes you a little nervous. To sweeten the pot…"

Without finishing her sentence, she set her drink and the cardigan she'd been carrying onto the bench, beside Qrow and Glynda's bag. Then she reached up behind her shoulderblades and easily unzipped her modest dress. As it began to slide down her body…

A most unusual outfit was revealed, one that had remained entirely hidden all throughout dinner and their walk there, during their move up two flights of stairs. One that shut Glynda up immediately. Black leather, strips of which encircled her waist and down to her groin, up over her shoulders and criss-crossing her stomach and back, though it left generous gaps of flesh visible. Her legs were bare from hips all the way down to her black high heels. Over her chest she had been wearing a tan padded bra, but when she took that off, gleaming metal spikes belted each breast, looking provocative and dangerous.

In addition to shutting Glynda up, it also shut her master up completely. He was in rather the same boat as her, staring toward “Princess” wide eyed and shocked. She'd been wearing that all this time while they were in a fancy restaurant, and he had no idea?! It was maddening! The whole situation was. But he had a feeling it was going to get even more maddening if Glynda agreed to stay.

"Well?" Winter demanded, kicking the dress over to fall neatly atop the cardigan. It didn't even brush her glass. "If you can't hack this, I'm going to play with the Rooster by myself."

Now Glynda was unsure. Glancing between his casual, scruffy appearance, and the outfit displaying quite a bit of the Dom she had been waiting to sample, she leaned a bit closer to Winter, closer to that exquisite skin she coveted.

"I… are you sure he won't try to interact with me?" she whispered anxiously, positively trembling. "You know I like to be watched, and you used that - I'll let that slide since you're in charge of the scene. But you also know I'm less comfortable when those eyes are attached to a male!"

"This is the scene. You either get on your knees or you get the hell out of this room." When Glynda flushed, she rolled her eyes, and broke the character she had barely started to build. "He's not going to lay a finger on you, or I will make him regret it. You know I wouldn't let anything bad happen to you. I'm not Cinderella."

"If I'm allowed to say something?"

When the two girls were looking toward him, Glynda with a more of a glare than anything else, he continued to sit still, leaning back against the wall instead. He could still sense how uncomfortable she was, even with Winter's reassurance. And it was all his fault from how he treated her while bowling, even if he had toned it down since they first started. Maybe now she needed to see a different side of him.

"Look, I'm new to this stuff, and I'm a jerk on top of that; but I'm not completely controlled by my dick, alright? Winter said ‘demonstration’, so I'm not getting involved at all. But on top of that, if you need me to leave any time, just say the word and I'll go, no questions asked. Ruby put one of those Tetris-type games on my phone; I can start figuring that out while you finish up in here."

Glynda still looked skeptical. Winter turned her face back toward herself by force, thumb and fingers pressing into either cheek.

"You are mine tonight. Not his. And as he said, if you really can't handle him being here, he knows the way back down to the bar. Or to go play with Candy; she's in the box tonight."

"Exactly, I know my boundaries," he assured, sitting back against the wall again and brushing his hair back. He was more than eager for the display before him to begin, but prepared to leave if she wasn't ready. He might even pay Cheshire a visit, despite the warnings; he wasn’t scared of a little maintenance.

Of course, Glynda could only hear his words, not see him. Winter had her pinned. And very slowly, she whispered, "Ready when you are, Your Highness."

"Good. Now… last question. You remember our rules?" A nod. "You remember the agreed upon scene?" A nod. "Any last-minute changes, any at all? Now is the time."

"Um…" Her face flushed with complete embarrassment. "I… if I tell you, can you not ask why?" Winter nodded, so she leaned very close to her and whispered as quietly as was possible, "If y-you could… p-please leave my ass alone tonight? I'm sorry, I know what we said before, b-but it w-"

"Shhh," Winter whispered softly, touching their foreheads together. Her hand was still grasping Glynda's face, but the gesture was entirely gentle. "It's fine. I can adjust to that."

Even now, he was beginning to see a different side to Winter. Although the attire, and her words, had confirmed that she was going to be the dominant party in this room, he was yet to believe it for himself. He simply couldn't imagine the woman who he'd been chaining up, taken roughly in various different ways with various different tools and items, doing all that to someone else. And that was leaving out the fact that he'd more or less found she was vaguely interested in women, too, to be willing to do this with them.

But he kept to his word, sitting back, saying nothing. Not a single word about it, no matter how much he wanted to tease Winter.

Finally, having reassured her sub as to that one final detail, which Qrow did not hear, Winter whispered, "I've heard what you need before you start play." So she brought her face forward and kissed her softly upon her lips, then drew back and told her evenly, "We're only playing. When playing is over, it is over."

"Only playing," Glynda echoed, as if they were performing some sort of bizarre, unholy catechism. "When playing is over, it is over. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Begin play."

There was no moment or breath separating the last words with the next action. Winter literally shoved her down by the face so hard that Glynda fell to one side, her arm and thigh making a dull THUD! against the padded floor.

It was so sudden that it made Qrow jump slightly in his seat, eyes snapping wide open. He never dreamt of being so harsh to a sub, even if he got reassurance, yet Winter didn't even hesitate!

And Glynda didn't complain either. There was barely even a grunt when she hit the ground, only a subtle smile to herself. Already she could feel her heart pounding. It was the best aspect of being handled so roughly, the excitement of it. The adrenaline rush made for the best pleasure. Slipping her gown off her shoulders, she tossed it aside, before getting back to her knees.

"Did I say I wanted you naked yet?!" Winter snapped immediately - though the sight before them was quite delicious. A tight leather corset that did nothing to cover her breasts was all that she was wearing, besides the ankle cuffs and matching ones at her wrists. A collar also dangled around her neck, one that had a healthy metal loop with which to attach a lead.

"O-oh… sorry, Princess." She could only apologise, still sitting on her knees upright as she awaited her punishment. That was the secret intention all along, to be punished for those actions. Holding out her hands, she offered up the wrist cuffs to her. "Please, punish me how you see fit, Your Majesty."

"Alright. Bring me something to punish you with." When Glynda didn't react fast enough, she snapped, "Today! Don't make me do everything for you, spineless cur!"

Flinching at the sudden shouting, she nodded quickly, getting back to her hands and knees rather than standing again. "Y-yes, Highness. Right away, Your Highness."

And then she crawled. Crawled toward the supply of toys in her bag, a few inches from where Qrow was sitting. At first she hesitated, but when he moved away from the bag slightly, she let a faint smile show, and finally rummaged through it. There were a few items she removed; two clamps, a few of the buckles for securing her in place, and a X-shaped leather piece, with metal rings on each of the ends. Just like the one Qrow spotted at Winter's, but had no idea of the purpose for.

"Bring them here, Snowmane. Now." Winter had paced backward a few steps, so that when Glynda did approach, they would be perfectly positioned in front of their audience.

"Yes, Your Highness." She bowed her head, trying her best to keep the items together as she held them close to her chest with one hand, and used the other to just barely crawl. Once she was close enough, she placed them before her Dom for the evening, before settling back onto her knees again, waiting patiently.

Winter inspected these items for a long, tense moment, pacing back and forth. Her eyebrows were knitted even before she came to a stop in front of her current pet.

"Where… is the riding crop?"

Oh, that was a mistake. She'd forgotten a toy Winter specifically wanted. Even if she didn't say it aloud, that meant for further punishment as soon as she got it. Hunching her shoulders and appearing as small as she could, she didn't collect it just yet, merely answered, "I thought this would be satisfactory, Ma'am."

"Did you call me 'Ma'am'?" Raising one leg, she rested her high heel against Glynda's face. "I am to be called 'Princess' or 'Your Highness', you worthless fool!" Then she pushed Glynda backward with a quick spasm of muscle, withdrawing her leg afterward. "And you thought wrong!"

Flung back once more, her arm and side impacted the ground with a quieter slap! But before more abuse could come, she did as commanded, scrambling back to the bag again to retrieve the crop for her Dom.

And all the while, Qrow found himself staring between them both. Winter certainly was able to dominate. She had the attitude to do it perfectly, without question. The sight before him was enough to already pitch a tent in his trousers. Probably a good thing he had the drink, after all.

As she reached down for the crop and took it, Winter used it to point directly at her face and said very coldly, "Head down, ass up. It's time for your punishment."

Without question, Glynda turned around, bowing her head right to the ground while keeping her backside high in the air. Instinctively she had braced, knowing what was coming. But God was she looking forward to that.

Just as Qrow was. While in the midst of play, he either used different terms or gestured the action, Winter just flat out said it. Without fear of any rejection, or disobeying. She was a dictator above questioning by her subjects.

The tip of the crop trailed over her soft hemispheres of flesh, teasing and taunting. There was no sense in jumping straight to the end, but she also didn't want to dawdle. Therefore, a second later, she swished it downward and brought the tip up against one of her cheeks with a THWAP!

"NNNUUUGH!" she found herself growling out, hands curling into fists as she attempted to bear the pain. This was a light tap, she knew it would get far worse. But even so, it made her heart race faster, just as she desired. The mere knowledge that more was to come was making her grow wet down below.

Kneeling down, Winter used her other hand to rest upon the somewhat-covered back, holding her in place as she reared back and brought the crop down again, this time flat across both cheeks. More evenly distributing the pain. Another groan burst forth, one that made the sub press her face up against the floor even more firmly. It hurt, but hurt good. She was adoring every moment of abuse. Even the knowledge that someone was watching was making it even more exquisite, despite her initial reluctance.

Another blow, and another. She made sure to adjust her trajectory with every landing of the crop, to ensure she was leaving multiple stripes that Glynda could wear proudly for a few hours, rather than a single one that might not fade for too long. The abuse continued for a while, making more and more marks upon Glynda's rear. Several visible marks for her to wear under her gown for when she eventually headed home.

No doubt it would make sitting difficult for a while. But Glynda trusted Winter to know her limit, and eventually when the spankings stopped she took her moment to catch her breath again, closing her eyes and panting heavily to slow her speeding heart. It was a full minute later when she eventually spoke again.

"Th-Thank you, Your Highness."

The riding crop rose again, but this time only traced small circles, then dipped down toward her glistening sex. "Ahh, I see now why you thanked me for your punishment. You enjoyed it. Sick, and pathetic. But that's alright; there's more to come. I'll break you yet."

Standing, she cast a glance over at Qrow, to gauge how the guest was handling the show they were putting on. She couldn't openly acknowledge him or ask him questions during the scene… or could she? No, she would refrain for now, more for Glynda's comfort than anything.

Her guest was still staring wide eyed – and quite obviously holding his legs together, trying to refrain from making his enjoyment all too obvious for them both. Again, mainly for Glynda's benefit should she look over.

Thankfully, she didn't. She tried to stare elsewhere to distract herself, sighing happily when she was finally touched in the wet warmth. Oh how she adored it… she even found herself backing up against it, whispering, "Yes, Highness… I-I want you to break me."

"Good," Winter replied with a small smile. She glanced overhead, to make sure the bar was where it should be, before her heel raised up and began to press down against Glynda's backside with a goodly amount of force.

And it worked. Forced to fall forward, in the most undignified manner, she was pressed flat against the ground, finding herself whimpering slightly at the embarrassment she felt from it all. Winter might as well be stepping all over her back, grind her into the dirt in addition.

Which was exactly what Winter meant to do. Reaching up even as she moved, she hopped lightly onto Glynda's back. Began to tread on her, leaning more of her weight forward on her feet so that her pointed heels didn't dig into the woman too badly - in addition to holding the overhead bar so she didn't quite allow her full weight to push down into her sub.

"Ohh, this is nice," she cooed downward. "I've been wanting a good, soft doormat."

All the while, Glynda was lowly growling, biting her lip to try and hold in from being too loud. In regular scenes with Winter, she would allow herself to become unhinged. But now she could feel the eyes of Qrow upon them, she refrained. But at least Winter was adapting willingly, respecting their new alteration rather than pushing things too far.

"Hmm," Winter mused as she slowly walked up her back to stand between her shoulders. "What can I do to this average white woman approaching middle age who has found herself beneath me? Literally, and figuratively."

Still biting her lip, she shuffled herself very slightly however she could, attempting to make herself comfortable, even if it was a fruitless task. Was she genuinely asking? That wasn't how exactly they'd planned the scene, but it came with a little relief that Winter gave her the option to change things because of the eyes in the rooms.

"R-Restrain me, Highness," she begged. "S-So I can't move."

"That was rhetorical!" Winter turned and stomped down on her spine very slightly harder to punctuate her words, though still holding her weight upward partially. "Although, I suppose it was a question. You are excused, Snowmane."

After yelling from the stomp, she attempted as best she could to look back around as best she could, offering a small smile. "T-Thank you. You're too kind, Your Majesty."

Again, she began to walk downward, standing briefly on her rump before continuing along her thighs. She didn't dare walk further down, as the bulk of calves and ankles wasn't substantial enough; she might truly hurt her down there.

"You want to be restrained, do you? Well… I think we can manage that." Stepping lightly off, she snapped, "Hands behind your back, knees bent. Let me see how well you can help Princess get you ready."

Giving a light nod, she did just as she was asked. Even at her age, she was flexible enough to do both quite easily, and hold the position long enough for Winter to prepare her. And only now was Qrow starting to figure out what the cross section of leather was for, from how it aligned with the rings on Glynda's anklets and wrist cuffs. It was meant to hold her in that position. Some kind of hogtying device.

"Don't need these," Winter said dully, using the riding crop to flick off the heels Glynda had pulled on when still flustered over Qrow's arrival. Then she smirked and said, "Hold this for me," as she tucked the riding crop between Glynda's big toes and the rest of them, so that it was held horizontally above her own hindquarters. "Drop it, and you'll suffer."

"Y-Yes, Your Highness." An additional challenge had been set. Holding onto it as best she could with her toes, she continued to maintain the undignified position for longer while Winter prepared everything.

Nodding her silent approval, she reached over to the items Glynda had placed there, waiting. Picking up the "X" and the carabiners, she first attached them to each leather cuff, turning them in the proper directions so that they would be accessible. Then she began attaching them to the X one at a time, until…

Glynda was trussed. Arms up and above her slightly, knees bent as tightly as they could be, she was now in no way able to move or do anything other than roll from side to side somewhat - and even that would have been a task. Completely hogtied, and without a single stitch of rope.

“Well damn,” Qrow managed to whisper just out of the sub's range of hearing, still now trying to keep his legs firmly together to stop his growing bulge from becoming too obvious. The display had completely changed him, turned him from the smug Dom to a silent child, forced to watch and not touch.

All her sub could do was flex her hands lightly, still having to hold the crop in place with her toes. There was nothing left she could physically do.

"Next stop… oh, I don't know," Winter mused as she stood, walking in a lazy circle around the woman. Looking over her nearly nude form, trapped as it was. "There are so many things… where to start? I know; I'll check the bag."

So she did; she paced over to the bench and began to paw through the contents, carelessly adding blouse and a pencil skirt to the stack of her own discarded clothing. So much better to look through the toys. Looking over her shoulder, she smirked - first at Qrow, then at her sub.

"What's this for? A reward, or an implement with which I should punish you?"

And what she held up was… a carrot.

Glynda didn't want to look around, well aware that she was going to have to see Qrow if she did; but she had no choice. She had to look over to see what her mistress was holding. Yet again, her cheeks flushed red, and she looked away in shame. "I-I suppose… it can be both, Highness."

Catching the look, Winter also glanced at Qrow. To Glynda's horror, she seemed to be looking over to him for input. She could feel it in her gut what the answer would be already, that Winter would humiliate her by using a carrot as a way of bringing her end rather than the gentle fingers she loved, or even one of the other toys in the bag.

But when Qrow realised that she wanted an answer from him instead, he looked back and forth between them. Able to understand the reference of her name, and the significance of a carrot in the situation; he knew the answer he wanted to see, but he also felt a little guilty for inserting himself into a scene for which Goodwitch clearly wasn’t prepared. So, luckily for her…

"A reward, I think."

Smiling first at him, then over at Glynda herself, Winter said, "You heard your master's master. No making 'carrot cake' out of your sugary sweetness."

Then she reached into the bag and pulled out something else. A large harness with a moderately-sized dildo dangling from inside of it. So the rumours were true that, despite her age and experience, Glynda was an exceptionally tight fit; otherwise, the implement would have been larger.

"And here I was thinking you were straight," he managed to whisper, keeping a volume so low that Glynda only looked on in confusion toward him. But then she spotted the item which she knew she desired. And already, had began to nod.

"Yes, that one, Your Highness."

Smirking to herself as she stepped through the loops, Winter whispered, "Such an eager little slut. You'd think you haven't been fucked in weeks. And maybe you haven't, hmm?" As she paced over to stand in front of Glynda, she continued, "Have you been starving yourself of satisfaction just for li'l ol' me?"

As best she could in her awkward position, she looked up toward her, licking her lips when she saw the long length present on her body. It was true; as per their arrangement, Glynda had stopped herself doing anything since they first discussed it. All to make her more eager for tonight, more sensitive to her touch. Even with Qrow's eyes watching her, she needed to be sated. Badly.

"I have, Highness," she informed her, trying to wriggle her hips however she could. "I-I beg of you."

"Then show me how much you want it - with actions, not words." As she knelt in front of her forcibly prostrated sub, she held an index finger up within her field of vision. "But remember… don't drop the crop."

Biting her lip, she nodded against the ground, closing her eyes as she attempted to sway her hips back and forth to try and entice her in. Already there was a satisfying amount of moisture building there, from being teased and toyed with. It was a rather oddly satisfying display, but one that expressed her need. And all the while, she kept hold of the crop in her toes, trying not to budge it at all.

Suddenly, there was a length of smooth plastic pressing up against her cheek. Then the voice of her Dom saying in a quiet, even tone, "That wasn't what I meant."

"O-oh…" She looked down toward the ground again. "F-forgive me, Your Highness; what do you mean?"

"You know…" Reaching down, the fingers she so desired grasped at her hair and yanked her head up forcibly. "I'm beginning to suspect you're being obstinate on purpose. Hoping for me to teach you more lessons. Let me spell this one out for you."

The head of the strap-on was now literally pressing up against Glynda's lips, and Winter moved her hips from side to side for good measure. All she declined to do was reach down and force her jaw open herself.

Finally, she understood. Nodding against the length right upon her lips, she opened wide, trying as best she could to take it into her mouth as Winter pushed back and forward. For their audience today, Winter had began to fuck her face. Her sub held on as best she could, suppressing the urge to yell or even gag. She had to do this right.

"Good girl," Winter sighed, sounding as if she could actually feel the sensations. "Ooh, you're pretty good at this. For a lesbian." There was a slight gagging sound, but Winter didn't relent. "Oh, relax the back of your throat more. Focus on breathing through your nose… that's it."

She didn't dare nod, only continued to let her throat be abused as Winter asked. More went in, more was being accepted. It wasn't something she did often, but she was practised enough to put on a good show. Her cheeks glowed brighter when she suddenly realised where the saliva that was now covering the member would be going.

After about a minute, Winter drew back and pet her face, soothing her with, "Nice and wet. You're going to get a treat for that." And, of course, she pressed the carrot up against her lips - sideways, so she could hold it. "There. Now, don't lose your special treat!"

It was another challenge, like the riding crop. So many things to carry! Well, at least here she had the benefit of gripping with her teeth, holding the carrot still in her mouth for when Winter moved behind her. Gradually, she tried to watch where she was going, until she couldn't any longer, and resigned herself to laying her head on the ground.

Standing purely so she could walk around Glynda with her heels clacking loudly, Winter began to position herself behind the sub. But she decided to tease her a bit first; not in the cruel ways she had so far, but teasing nonetheless.

"You're so ready," she purred as the toe of her heel pressed gently up against her sex.

"Hmm…" she moaned against the carrot in her mouth. Even just that was enough to send tingles down her spine. It couldn't be helped, she had enough teasing. She needed someone to end that torment and finally give her what she craved.

Even as Qrow watched more intently. No longer was he concerned about the fact the bulge was obvious in his trousers, he simply leant forward to watch the moment of truth.

"Really ready. I can't believe how wet you are. But then again, you've been a good girl, doing as Princess asked and not doing anything to yourself until today. And that means you get another reward." Kneeling down between the bent knees of her charge, she began to glide her fingers over her sodden folds, just enough to continue the teasing in a more satisfactory manner. Then she leaned forward and grasped the riding crop with her teeth, drawing it up and away from Glynda's dubious grip. Only after that did she take it in her free hand. "Especially for holding onto this for me."

"Hnnn…" There was a dull shiver that rose up through her body now that she was finally touched, hands beginning to curl into fists once more while she tried to hold on. Now that her toes were free, she curled them just as tight, anything she could to keep herself going.

Which enticed Winter to chuckle and lean in to sink her teeth into those now. Glynda squirmed quite a lot at the little bite, and something like a giggle sounded from behind the carrot. "Hmm… you know, it's been awhile since I've done this." The fingers began to work faster, teasing more and more of her flesh. "Am I performing to your satisfaction, Snowmane?"

"Nnnnn!" Nodding against the ground again, she found herself biting into the carrot into her mouth slightly, assuring her grip even more. Those fingers could work miracles, perform magic. Out of all the Doms she could have, Winter was probably her favourite. And she was experienced with plenty.

At long last, one of the fingers dipped inside, still sliding up and down but edging inward a bit at a time with every pass along the wetness. "Yes, that's right… moan for me. Let me know how much you needed this. How only I can give you what you need. You are completely dependent on me for pleasure now, aren't you?"

"Yhhh… Nnnn…" she attempted to moan against the carrot, desperately trying to push herself back against the fingers that were taunting her, trying to get more. If that didn't prove how desperate she was, nothing would.

It occurred to Winter that she was being too kind to the supple woman beneath her. Older than her or Qrow by a few years, but still young and firm, in reasonably good shape. Though she did not scene with many women, Glynda was on her list of the ones she would repeat such activities with. But she was her sub; an obedient one, and one she didn't want to treat unkindly, but that was the whole purpose of their activity, wasn't it?

Time to tease her further. "Would you believe how wet she is?" she cast over in Qrow's direction. "She must really like you watching her. Or me touching her. Or both."

"Hmm?!" Managing to look around toward them both, she spared a moment to glare in her direction, then toward Qrow. There was still shame she felt in the fact it was him of all people watching her. But in fairness, he'd kept his promise. He didn't make a single sound, other than when Winter asked for his input. So he simply smirked back toward her and shrugged, like it was some kind of game.

"Yeah, you like putting on a show," Winter continued as she began to thrust the finger in and out of her, to speed up her movements and the roughness of her handling overall. "For women… men… anyone. You can't help yourself."

The glare was dissolving slowly into a pleasured daze, one that was making her moan louder and louder against the carrot in her mouth, biting further down. She was so close already, from just one finger! And Winter wasn't letting up. Her finger withdrew and a second was added, which slowly worked inside to widen her. Then she began to pound in and out of her at a reduced speed, feeling the inner walls adjust to the larger presence.

That had an unfortunate side effect. When she moaned even louder due to that second finger, gritting her teeth still to stop herself from finishing too soon… she bit through the carrot. Its remains dropped to the ground with a large bite mark in it.

Once realising her mistake, her eyes snapped open wide again, and she clenched her fists and toes to brace for what was to come. But all Winter said to her with a dark little grin was, "Well, what are you looking at me for? Pick it back up. Unless you want me to stop…"

Having to finish the bite she accidentally took first, she attempted to shuffle herself forward toward it. But those attempts looked ridiculous as she wriggled her body back and forth, still clenching her toes and fists in some ridiculous hope it would help. But she barely moved an inch. Closing her eyes tightly, she growled outwardly, knowing she couldn't achieve such a feat. Why did she have to bite that hard?!

But Winter said nothing about it. Even though she had insinuated that she would stop, her fingers only slid in and out of her sub's tight, slick entrance at breakneck speed as she leaned forward, using the position to gain better leverage.

Trying her best to maintain some form of dignity as the abuse continued again, Glynda bit her lip, moaning louder and louder against it. She could feel her arms and legs quivering, knowing deep down she wasn't going to last until the strap on would be used. In any other scene, multiple orgasms were a blessing; but while Qrow was watching, it was too much humiliation for her to bear.

"Now you're resisting," Winter observed accurately, pressing the tip of the riding crop right up against Glynda's aching clit as she continued to glide in and out of her. "Trying not to come for me. But that's what I want: you to come. So why are you fighting back, Snowmare? Did you want even more punishment than you deserve for the carrot?"

Finally, she gave in. Closing her eyes tightly, she began to quiver all over, unable to hold back the moans anymore as she yelled out loudly. The muscles around her fingers clamped down, trying to extend her pleasure as much as possible while her legs shuddered violently against their restraints. The first orgasm of the evening, done.

Gradually, the fingers came to a stop, then rested inside of her for a few seconds. The crop came up and traced circles around on her hindcheeks.

"Very good, Snowmane. You came for Princess beautifully." Then the tip rose, trailed down the sole of one foot. "However…"

"H-Huh?" she was barely able to ask between her panting, only just attempting to look over and check what she was doing.

But Qrow was seeing perfectly, watching as she was getting her length ready to do more and more to her. He was hard enough already, how much worse would this performance make him?

"You're going to have to receive punishment for dropping the carrot and failing to pick it back up." Then the crop went underneath her chin, turning it slightly to look at her more directly. Her voice dropped to a stage whisper, effectively suspending her Dom persona. "Now, listen. Our original agreement stands, but… unless you call a halt to play, Qrow is going to help me - very briefly - get you into position. If you can handle him doing that and only that, blink three times."

There were two emotions Glynda was feeling. One, she didn't want Qrow anywhere near her. Even if he had kept to the promise, Qrow was still Qrow. The perverted old lush whom she tolerated being on their bowling team, whom she turned her nose up at every flirt. But he hadn't made a single pass at her tonight, or a single comment. He'd been a much better man in one sitting than he had for weeks, but could she trust it – trust him?

However, the second emotion burned brighter. Curiosity. She had no idea what Winter was planning, and trusted her with everything. Qrow must be trustworthy if Winter was allowing him to do this.

Finally, she blinked three times.

"Good girl," she purred in her Dom voice again. Then she glanced up at Qrow. "Do you mind? I just need you to lift her up for a moment, and then you can sit back and watch the grand finale."

Then Winter sat down on the bench, moving enough things aside to give herself plenty of room to move, should she need to do so. Leaning forward, she stretched her hands out in Glynda's direction. Ready to assist when Qrow answered, if he was amenable.

"She's okay with that?" Winter nodded in response, and Qrow got up and set to work. Pacing over to the hogtied sub, he stood behind her, waiting for orders.

"Get her up here," Winter said matter-of-factly, reaching back to slap her thigh before her hand came back forward, ready to help haul her up once Qrow had eased her off the floor. "She's in for the ride of a lifetime."

"Alright." As best he could, he supported her legs, bringing her up off the floor as Winter commanded, whilst she did the same with her arms. Both of them lifted her upward toward the bench, settling her down onto Winter with her legs facing outward. It provided more than enough room for Winter to do as she pleased, while keeping her at a reasonable height to do just that.

Not intending to cause any more discomfort than necessary, Qrow sat himself down again on the bench, moving a couple of feet away just to keep a comfortable distance. He made a note of the softer, more thankful look on Glynda's face because of it.

Settling the elder blonde up against her front, reaching up to cup her neck gently, Winter leaned up to her ear to whisper in a sensual voice. Just another moment of broken character… somewhat.

"I'm so wet from all this play. And so are you. But I want to make sure you're okay keeping going after Qrow touched you. I mean… are you still comfortable enough?"

She was more than comfortable. Especially now that Qrow had moved a small distance away in respect of their wishes. Flexing her fingers idly for a moment, she whispered back to Winter, out of character, "He's actually doing very well… I'm still a little annoyed, but it’s alright. Maybe I'll have to buy him a drink after this."

"Glad to hear that," she uttered back softly. "And I'll buy you one; I really appreciate this, and you've done great." Then she leaned back and said in a normal tone, "Now… what do you say I punish your slobbering little cunt as hard as I can?"

Smiling again now that the scene was back on, Glynda nodded. The neediness of her voice returned, and she tried to wriggle her hips side to side to entice her. "I hope I am to your liking, your majesty."

Nodding her agreement rather than speaking it aloud, Winter reached back and gripped her hindcheek tightly for a moment. "You certainly are."

While Glynda remained silent as she braced herself for entry, Qrow was preparing himself for that moment of truth. His nerve endings were on fire, he could feel the fabric of his underwear restraining him, gliding across his so, so ready member as he shuffled in his seat. This private display was one of the most erotic things that had ever graced his eyes.

Knowing her sub was completely helpless put a lot of the burden onto Winter. So she shouldered it by lifting her hips up by the backs of her thighs, hauling her up a few inches at a time until she was positioned above her temporary cock. It was a precarious position, but the elder Schnee daughter worked out often enough that she could manage it with minimal effort.

Then she began to lower her down, feeling the resistance. Her aim had been more or less true, and she felt it slip to one side as it went up and into Glynda.

"Oooohhhh!"

That sound was completely unhinged. A request she needed sated more than anything, it was finally being fulfilled. And quite literally, filled. The older woman enjoyed every moment, feeling the member slip into her body with very little resistance – thanks to how dripping wet she had been. The dazed expression on her face fell to a grin, and she quivered with excitement again.

"T-Thank you… Your Highness! NGH!"

The sheer gratitude broke through Winter's façade. Maybe they had enough roughness for the day; of course, they both enjoyed the game, but now was time for Glynda to just have a good, solid orgasm. To that end…

"Does Snowmane want to finish like this? Or should I release her hands?"

It was an honest question; sultry, not at all cruel or taunting. Panting loudly still, she attempted to get her head together to give an answer. Being tussled in such a way was thrilling, but having a second orgasm while in that position was awkward. For the sake of her own aching joints, she breathed, "R-Release… If you'd be so kind, my Princess."

"Alright… one moment, then."

Regrettably, Winter had to leave her to sit still as she reached behind her back and traced her fingers up to the carabiners that held her wrists clipped to the hogtie restraint in the middle. Working for a few seconds on each one, she was able to unclip them and toss the clips aside. Her feet were still bound to the restraint, but that was inconsequential.

Now that her hands were free, she placed them into Winter's shoulders instead. Using them as her support, she looked Winter in the eye, continuing her dazed, yet delighted expression. Ready for whatever Winter was about to subject her to.

Feeling that Glynda was prepared and in position, the Princess began to ram up into her relentlessly, listening to their thighs slap against each other with every apex. Soft mounds were rubbing and sliding over the spikes of her own outfit, and though they weren't all that sharp, she did have to wonder what that sensation was like while being penetrated.

To Glynda, it was a harsh roughness. One that, if she had to put her finger on it, made the whole affair last longer. While she was sure that the fast and rough pumping of the fake member into her body would bring her to a finish far faster than before, the numb pain combined with the fact that this was her second orgasm slowed its progress, made her hold on longer.

Each moan and pant of Glynda's was making Qrow twitch all the more with need. To the point when he wasn't sure if he'd have to excuse himself after all.

"Do you hear that sound?" Winter panted from the exertion. "That slick, squelching noise? That's you, Glynda. You're so wet… you let this little Princess get a woman like you soaking, and now… you need me to drill you until you scream, don't you?"

Barely able to string a sentence together, “Snowmane” nodded quickly, closing her eyes as she allowed her head to fall back. She continued to try and push herself back against those thrusts, to get herself off faster to equal out the pain. It wasn't long now.

"Yes!" she yelled out. "That's all I want, Majesty! I want to… scream again, so badly!"

Licking her dry lips, Winter began to pump into her as hard as her body could possibly manage, arching her back and trying not to focus on how much her body ached to switch places, to be the one riding the cock as hard as Glynda was at that moment. But she had a task to complete; she could worry about herself later.

Thankfully, for everyone in the room, her orgasm came swift and hard. After a few more thrusts she bellowed out again, holding her hips down around that glorious shaft as tightly as she could manage. For the second time that evening, her inner muscles were clamping down onto it, trying to milk it for all it was worth. Her legs shuddered, and white hot pleasure flowed through her veins. It was much harder than her first. Far more satisfying.

And Winter's look was transfixed as the woman spasmed and moaned above her, eyes drinking in the sight. The detached pleasure she felt from bringing it about with her own efforts… it was unspeakably delicious. She really did feel like a princess.

[awhilesince]

Monday, 16 April 1827

6 1/4

2 10/60

my bowels tolerably well – sat half asleep near half an hour on the pot – the washer woman came at 8 1/2 – settled with her in 5 minutes – 

at my desk at 8 35/60 – wrote the 2 last lines – read over Marian’s letter – from 7 55/60 to 10, wrote 2 pages and the ends, and under the seal to Marian – glad of the good account of themselves – so will not dwell upon the disagreeable intelligence of Northgate not being likely to let – trust Marian speaks generally, and has no reason to apply particularly to me what she observed about its being ‘very necessary if not absolutely necessary for a person of moderate fortune to live not very distant from their inheritance’ – If she or my father thought my presence necessary of course they would tell me so – 

‘we are now so comfortably settled, that I should have no difficulty in leaving my aunt for any length of time, that could be necessary – In fact, from harass, or anxiety, or 1 thing or other, I have been a little out of sorts lately, and mean to change the air a little by and by – what we shall do next year, it is as yet quite impossible to say – my aunt’s general health is certainly better here, than it was, or than those, who ought to know best, thought it would be, in England: – but I do not mean to say, that the complaint is, or is likely to be, driven away from her limbs – However by next spring, she will be better able to judge for herself – to me, so long as we are sufficiently within reach of our affairs, it is matter of indifference where we live – It is possible to be happy anywhere, if the mind be right – the loss of those whom we have all our lives been accustomed to see, is a greater loss than we may have imagined till it has been been tried; but even this may be got over, if there be adequate reason for it – I suspect that, as you grow older, you will let slip many of your own schemes of going here and there – Perhaps you have already 1/2 forgotten many of your dreams about St. Petersbourgh etc – ‘a rolling stone gathers no moss’ – If moss stands for money, nothing can be more true – we do pay dear for most things; and there are many things cheaper in England than here: – but we have no doctors’ bills to pay as yet; and perhaps we should not have saved much at the year’s end by going to any place in England, which has yet occurred to us – But saving is not the question – I am only anxious to do what is best for my aunt; and whatever she even fancies, be it what it may, we shall try – send our remembrances particularly to Mrs V– (Veitch) with a kind message from my aunt, and remembrances to all the principal of our connaissances – make what use you like of my remembrances at Market W– (Weighton); but do not forget Mrs Skelding – I conclude Mrs I– (Inman) is still at Lancaster – if they go to Hull to give my thanks etc to Mrs Knight for the Euripides Medea by Parson given me in remembrance of Mr K– (Knight) 

mention the reports in the French papers of yesterday (Journal des Debats) of Mr Canning’s being prime minister and to make his own cabinet – and how all the liberal French are delighted – read over my letter wrote the above (except the 1st 1 1/2 lines) folded and directed my letter to ‘Miss Marian Lister Shibden hall, H–x (Halifax), Yorkshire Angleterre, post payé’ and sent it in to my aunt to read all which took me till 10 40/60 – 

from then to 11 10/60 at breakfast – then sent back volume 10 Anquetils précis de l’histoire universelle ‘à Madame Madame Sené avec les compliments and les remerciennes de Mademoiselle Lister’ written on the paper in which the back was folded – then sent off my letter to Marian (vide 4th line above) at 11 20/60 – then finish dressing –

Talking to my aunt – considering what things should be got, etc etc went out at 1 – Took George with me – bought several things at Bertrand’s – Sardines à l’huile not in season – for they should be fresh to be put in oil (and Bertrand had not any), and would not come in of 3 months – En passant chez Lesueur (rue des Petit Champs No. Number 31.) saw some nice looking beef (ribs) asked the price 10 sols a lb. (pound) – bought 6 1/2 lbs. (pounds) they were giving me a lb. (pound) of rejouissance at 9 sols – would not have – then must pay 1 sol a lb. (pound) more for the beef – did so – asked the price of mutton – 14 sols a lb. (pound) – nice but not so small as Mignand’s – 

just before entering the place des Victoires turned to the right down to the passage Verododat – thro’ it, and came out into the rue St. Honoré opposite the oration – En passant went into No. 82 rue St. Denis près celle des Lombards – large wholesale confections shop – only asked me 3/50 a lb. (pound) for fine chinois, the same for apricots – the latter not yet egouttés – bought a lb. (pound) of the former determining to make this my shop – for marmalade d’abricots and all such things 2/. a lb. (pound) – the little pots I buy said to contain 3 oz. (ounces) less than a lb. (pound) – 2 francs a lb. (pound) = 2 1/2 sols an oz (ounce) – at this rate I am right to buy of Bertrand’s – I only give 32 sols. for 13 oz. (ounces) and have the pot – from the confection’s (B. Perrot Pezé), to No. 1. rue des Lombards – bought 3 lbs. (pounds) tea, and sent home George – 

sauntered down the rue d’Arcis, and to the Marché au Gibier – a woman asked me 18 sols for fineish skewered pigeons (Bertrand said I ought to have very good at 1/. but there from 14 sols to 30 sols!), I could have got them easily for 15 sols, but only offered 12 sols – then strolled along the Quais looking at prints and maps as I passed – the troops reviewed by the king today in the Champ de Mars – a crowd about the port royal (de Louis 16) etc – thro‘ the gardens – just got under the arcade in time (at 4) to Escape a shower – detained there perhaps 20 minutes – the channels in the streets full of water – obliged to cross (from the rue neuve de Luxembourg) over the little communion show in the rue Richepanse – beginning to rain again just before I got home –

came in at 4 1/2 – Monsieur and Madame Sené with my aunt in her bedroom about her bed on account of bugs – they must come from MacDonald’s bed – Madame S– (Sené) now recollects the nurse had this bed once (last year) in a 4rième when they were from home, and she complained much of bugs – the bois de lit is to be taken away and MacDonald to have another – all very civil – talked a while to my aunt – 

came to my room at 4 50/60 – wrote the last 20 lines – settled with George, – and went out (to Mrs B–‘s Barlow’s to dine) at 5 35/60 sent George at 5 20/60 to be then to wait till 7 and then come back to my aunt – washed my hands and changed shoes and stockings at Mrs B–‘s (Barlow’s) – Miss Gauntlet had been there some time – 

Dinner at 6 1/4 – sent George home in about an hour from then – peas soup maigre – hind 1/4 lamb, and vol au vent at 4 /. asparagées and mashed potatoes – then a Charlotte Russe (a cream enclosed in a pretty pudding-like mould of savoy biscuits) at 5/. For dessert oranges – biscuits and rout cakes almonds and raisins – tea about 9 – joking Miss G– (Gauntlet) about being a physionist – she said there was something wicked in the corner of my eye – I said there was something ditto in the left corner of her left eye – she had heard it remarked before – she said there was something wicked in the corner of Mrs B–‘s (Barlow’s) eye, but it was more hid there in mine – joked Mrs B– (Barlow) about Miss G–‘s (Gauntlet’s) having given her the name of ‘latent wicked’ – 

got to talking about Switzerland – had the map out – mentioned our 1st intention of going by Strasbourg – would do very well – Miss G– (Gauntlet) saw Chamouny 16 August – by all means cross the tête noir, but dangerous too early or late in the season – If not go, return by Lyons – very well worth seeing – Dijon a pretty little town – the Deux Cloches there one of the best Inns, and reasonable, Miss G– (Gauntlet) has been at on the continent – At Geneva the Crown very good – will get all sorts of information there but be generally be guided by the Guide book – this always the best – not interested to advise this way or that – 3 days quite enough for Venice – she bought prints of Parni at Florence – Morgan the best and dearest; but the English turned over his portfolio, and said so much inquiry without purchasing, he will not let them do so now – a Miss Trail Travelled thro’ Italy by herself – had 30 letters of recommendation, and thus went from house to house – a singular genius for painting – copies all the famous heads, Raphael’s mistress, Titians Flora. etc etc in miniature – has left her family to study painting in Italy – a gentlewoman – now at Rome – copies most beautifully – many of her things likely to make a great noise in England when she returns – sat talking Till 12 – George had been waiting since 9 1/4 – sent him for a fiacre for Miss G– (Gauntlet) 

got home at 12 1/4 – sat up looking over my French cookery books – some useful information in the confiseur moderne about bottling wine – [O two dots, marking discharge from venereal complaint] – Miss G– Gauntlet strongly recommends all persons travelling to get as many and good letters of introduction as they can –

left margin: Fahrenheit 50 at 7 1/2 44 1/2 at 12 1/4 tonight Fine morning then threatening rain – smartish shower about 4 to 4 1/2 – afterwards fair –

reference number: SH:7/ML/E/10/0081, SH:7/ML/E/10/0082

[shithowdy]

I realize this is a personal question from a rando stranger, but: do you mind explaining a little about what made you pull back from being a 4ch raider/participating in lulz culture? a friend of mine works for twitter's abuse dept and she is really struggling how to figure out the best ways to fight online trolling - any anecdote would be useful? (i recognize this is a big ask - feel free to ignore this if it's too much/private to talk about)

No it’s fine to talk about! I prefer to be open about my abhorrent behavior in the mid/late aughts since it was pretty impactful on both people I hurt and my own way of dealing with that kind of culture.

Trolling online these days is so much more organized, methodical, and scientific than it was back then. Social media was still a new concept, and websites had a lot more focus on niche audiences. Peoples’ online presences were scattered across several websites– their art would be on DeviantART, their private musings would be on their Xanga, their most social activity would be a forum attached to an anime fansite, and their different interests would be spread across several messageboards, LJ communites, Yahoo/MSN groups, etc.

Site names have changed and this isn’t 100% untrue now, but for the most part, segmented online presences are a dying breed. Most people share ALL of their work and thoughts on tumblr/instagram/twitter/reddit, all with one account, all very easy to learn about somebody. Things like DA still exist but are tertiary and not a primary method of interacting online. Reverse image searching, google maps, facebook, and people-finding tools also make hunting down someone to harass or impersonate them a lot easier.

I start by saying this because it’s important to observe the evolution of trolling, both in methods and intent. The internet is a completely different animal– before, to use an unsettling analogy, it was almost more about the hunt, now it’s about the kill.

Nothing in particular made me leave the subculture overnight. There was no conscious revelation that I could share in the hopes that others have it. I began roleplaying in World of Warcraft in 2009, and if I had to offer a turning point, that would be it. I went from being an angry little internet elemental to somebody meaningfully involved in a creative community that needed to work together to make each other happy instead of constantly trying to one-up one another. I played a character that was friendly, charismatic, and loved to help people. Between having to be in this constant mindset for roleplay’s sake and just in general getting to know people, I developed empathy for my fellow internet inhabitants.

As time went on it helped me explore more facets of myself, namely my very closeted queerness. RP communities are an extremely mixed bag and I encountered a lot of people openly sharing points of view I’d never considered about the world, eloquent people using a written platform where they can say everything they want to say in one place and consider it as long as they need before putting it out there.

I didn’t leave behind cruel behavior because I was stricken by shame. I just lost interest in it because I found more positive outlets, and listened to people with opinions counter to ones I’d held.

But how does this tie in to preventing abuse? I’m not sure that it does. Obviously there are plenty of cruel, manipulative, dreadful people in RP and other creative communities that have no intention of working as a team or considering others’ viewpoints, so it’s obviously not a result of the environment. But I think the empathy is an important factor– people behave as they do online because anonymity dampens empathy. Even if someone’s Twitter handle is their real name and their icon is their real face, their feelings are ultimately just a bunch of words on a screen, a person that in no way impacts your life. You don’t have to be privy to the devastation on their face as you tell them they’re broken and deserve to die. Bullying is a senseless but perpetual aspect of human nature and the emotional disconnect makes it worse.

Unfortunately empathy is not something Twitter, or any website, is capable of instilling in its users. That is something that needs to be addressed offline. People need to be made more acutely aware of their monkeyspheres, and be asked difficult questions like, “Why do you perceive X as unworthy of compassion? Who are they hurting? What is your goal? Why do you think that needs to be a goal?”And you can’t ask these questions online. You can’t make somebody uncomfortable with their worldview if they can hit backspace at any time and ignore it. But maybe asking the right questions often enough will eventually force them to think about it whether they want to or not.

Regardless, most people who bully do so because they have a perception of what’s “right”. This isn’t always a deep social issue such as racism; sometimes it can be something as simple as not liking how they spend their time, or the way they dress. One of my lowest moments in my teens was against a fanartist who traced various artwork to instead be their OC and a canon character. That’s it. That was their crime. But I was determined to make them stop doing it by any means necessary, and this meant impersonating them on /b/, alerting them to their existence. They figured out pretty quickly that it was me impersonating but they had already fixated on their artwork and I received no backlash, and they continued to hound them across various accounts. For what it’s worth, I did reach out a couple years back to apologize– but the damage remains.

Take that mindset and apply it to anything, from the notion that the bully has been denied something and is lashing out against a perceived cause, to a genuinely devoted moral crusade. The belief that they are “doing the right thing” (teaching a lesson, attacking somebody “bad”, thickening someone’s skin) is a unifying factor. Nobody sits there chuckling about how evil they’re being– they’re thinking, “this will show them”, and they get a rush out of having some control over this perceived slight.

What can websites do? They can take a more active role in moderating their community. They can ban hateful accounts and personally reach out to victims.

What can victims do? It fucking sucks, but don’t engage. I see a lot of debate on this but standing up to bullies online is a lot different than in real life. With a lot of media being based on “sharing”, retaliation opens up the potential for a wider audience of scum and they absolutely thrive on distress and watching people spend their time acknowledging them. You are not showing that bullying won’t be tolerated by refuting their words, you’re just giving them more shit to screenshot into their group chats before they roll in and call you more slurs that you publicize for them yourself by engaging. I say this from the perspective of someone who did that. A blocked/deleted insult is no fun. An insult with a “get a load of this guy cam” reaction image followed by several reblogs of people insulting the anon or saying how unacceptable this is is successful.

What can trolls do? Find a better outlet, you guys. Honestly. It’s a rush to feel like you have some kind of control and power over people by drawing reactions out of them but making people happy feels even better. Cruelty impresses only people that will have no qualms hurting you too.

[eovinmygod]

From www.newstatesman.com By Mehdi Hasan

As a Muslim, I struggle with the idea of homosexuality – but I oppose homophobia

I've made homophobic remarks in the past, writes Mehdi Hasan, but now I’ve grown up — and reconciled my Islamic beliefs with my attitude to gay rights.

’Tis the season of apologies – specifically, grovelling apologies by some of our finest academic brains for homophobic remarks they’ve made in public. The Cambridge University theologian Dr Tim Winter, one of the UK’s leading Islamic scholars, apologised on 2 May after footage emerged showing him calling homosexuality the “ultimate inversion” and an “inexplicable aberration”. “The YouTube clip is at least 15 years old, and does not in any way represent my present views . . . we all have our youthful enthusiasms, and we all move on.”

The Harvard historian Professor Niall Ferguson apologised “unreservedly” on 4 May for “stupid” and “insensitive” comments in which he claimed that the economist John Maynard Keynes hadn’t cared about “the long run” because he was gay and had no intention of having any children.

Dare I add my non-academic, non-intellectual voice to the mix? I want to issue my own apology. Because I’ve made some pretty inappropriate comments in the past, too.

You may or may not be surprised to learn that, as a teenager, I was one of those wannabe-macho kids who crudely deployed “gay” as a mark of abuse; you will probably be shocked to discover that shamefully, even in my twenties, I was still making the odd disparaging remark about homosexuality.

It’s now 2013 and I’m 33 years old. My own “youthful enthusiasm” is thankfully, if belatedly, behind me.

What happened? Well, for a start, I grew up. Bigotry and demonisation of difference are usually the hallmark of immature and childish minds. But, if I’m honest, something else happened, too: I acquired a more nuanced understanding of my Islamic faith, a better appreciation of its morals, values and capacity for tolerance.

Before we go any further, a bit of background – I was attacked heavily a few weeks ago by some of my co-religionists for suggesting in these pages that too many Muslims in this country have a “Jewish problem” and that we blithely “ignore the rampant anti-Semitism in our own backyard”.

I hope I won’t provoke the same shrieks of outrage and denial when I say that many Muslims also have a problem, if not with homosexuals, then with homosexuality. In fact, a 2009 poll by Gallup found that British Muslims have zero tolerance towards homosexuality. “None of the 500 British Muslims interviewed believed that homosexual acts were morally acceptable,” the Guardian reported in May that year.

Some more background. Orthodox Islam, like orthodox interpretations of the other Abrahamic faiths, views homosexuality as sinful and usually defines marriage as only ever a heterosexual union.

This isn’t to say that there is no debate on the subject. In April, the Washington Post profiled Daayiee Abdullah, who is believed to be the only publicly gay imam in the west. “[I]f you have any same-sex marriages,” the Post quotes him as saying, “I’m available.” Meanwhile, the gay Muslim scholar Scott Siraj al-Haqq Kugle, who teaches Islamic studies at Emory University in the United States, says that notions such as “gay” or “lesbian” are not mentioned in the Quran. He blames Islam’s hostility towards homosexuality on a misreading of the texts by ultra-conservative mullahs.

And, in his 2011 book Reading the Quran, the British Muslim intellectual and writer Ziauddin Sardar argues that “there is abso­lutely no evidence that the Prophet punished anyone for homosexuality”. Sardar says “the demonisation of homosexuality in Muslim history is based largely on fabricated traditions and the unreconstituted prejudice harboured by most Muslim societies”. He highlights verse 31 of chapter 24 of the Quran, in which “we come across ‘men who have no sexual desire’ who can witness the ‘charms’ of women”. I must add here that Abdullah, Kugle and Sardar are in a tiny minority, as are the members of gay Muslim groups such as Imaan. Most mainstream Muslim scholars – even self-identified progressives and moderates such as Imam Hamza Yusuf in the United States and Professor Tariq Ramadan in the UK – consider homosexuality to be a grave sin. The Quran, after all, explicitly condemns the people of Lot for “approach[ing] males” (26:165) and for “lust[ing] on men in preference to women” (7:81), and describes marriage as an institution that is gender-based and procreative.

What about me? Where do I stand on this? For years I’ve been reluctant to answer questions on the subject. I was afraid of the “homophobe” tag. I didn’t want my gay friends and colleagues to look at me with horror, suspicion or disdain.

So let me be clear: yes, I’m a progressive who supports a secular society in which you don’t impose your faith on others – and in which the government, no matter how big or small, must always stay out of the bedroom. But I am also (to Richard Dawkins’s continuing disappointment) a believing Muslim. And, as a result, I really do struggle with this issue of homosexuality. As a supporter of secularism, I am willing to accept same-sex weddings in a state-sanctioned register office, on grounds of equity. As a believer in Islam, however, I insist that no mosque be forced to hold one against its wishes.

If you’re gay, that doesn’t mean I want to discriminate against you, belittle or bully you, abuse or offend you. Not at all. I don’t want to go back to the dark days of criminalisation and the imprisonment of gay men and women; of Section 28 and legalised discrimination. I’m disgusted by the violent repression and persecution of gay people across the Muslim-majority world.

I cringe as I watch footage of the buffoonish Mahmoud Ahmadinejad claiming: “In Iran, we don’t have homosexuals . . . we do not have this phenomenon.” I feel sick to my stomach when I read accounts of how, in the late 1990s, the Taliban in Afghanistan buried gay men alive and then toppled brick walls on top of them.

Nor is this an issue only in the Middle East and south Asia. In March, a Muslim caller to a radio station in New York stunned the host after suggesting, live on air, that gay Americans should be beheaded in line with “sharia law”. Here in the UK, in February, Muslim MPs who voted in favour of the same-sex marriage bill – such as the shadow justice secretary, Sadiq Khan – faced death threats and accusations of apostasy from a handful of Muslim extremists. And last year, a homophobic campaign launched by puffed-up Islamist gangs in east London featured ludicrous and offensive stickers declaring the area a “gay-free zone”.

I know it might be hard to believe, but Islam is not a religion of violence, hate or intolerance – despite the best efforts of a minority of reactionaries and radicals to argue (and behave) otherwise. Out of the 114 chapters of the Quran, 113 begin by introducing the God of Islam as a God of mercy and compassion. The Prophet Muhammad himself is referred to as “a mercy for all creation”. This mercy applies to everyone, whether heterosexual or homosexual. As Tariq Ramadan has put it: “I may disagree with what you are doing because it’s not in accordance with my belief but I respect who are you are.” He rightly notes that this is “a question of respect and mutual understanding”.

I should also point out here that most British Muslims oppose the persecution of homosexuals. A 2011 poll for the think tank Demos found that fewer than one in four British Muslims disagreed with the statement “I am proud of how Britain treats gay people”.

There is much to be proud of, but still much to be done. Homophobic bullying is rife in our schools. Nine out of ten gay or lesbian teenagers report being bullied at school over their sexual orientation. LGBT teens are two to three times more likely to commit suicide than their heterosexual peers.

Despite the recent slight fall in “sexual orientation hate crimes”, in 2012 there were still 4,252 such crimes in England and Wales, four out of every five of which involved “violence against the person”. In March, for instance, a man was jailed for killing a gay teenager by setting him on fire; the killer scrawled homophobic insults across 18-year-old Steven Simpson’s face, forearm and stomach.

Regular readers will know that I spend much of my time speaking out against Islamophobic bigotry: from the crude stereotyping of Muslims in the media and discrimi­nation against Muslims in the workplace to attacks on Muslim homes, businesses and places of worship.

The truth is that Islamophobia and homophobia have much in common: they are both, in the words of the (gay) journalist Patrick Strudwick, “at least partly fuelled by fear. Fear of the unknown . . .” Muslims and gay people alike are victims of this fear – especially when it translates into hate speech or physical attacks. We need to stand side by side against the bigots and hate-mongers, whether of the Islamist or the far-right variety, rather than turn on one another or allow ourselves to be pitted against each other, “Muslims v gays”.

We must avoid stereotyping and demonising each other at all costs. “The biggest question we have as a society,” says a Muslim MP who prefers to remain anonymous, “is how we accommodate difference.”

Remember also that negative attitudes to homosexuality are not the exclusive preserve of Muslims. In 2010, the British Social Attitudes survey showed that 36 per cent of the public regarded same-sex relations as “always” or “mostly wrong”.

A Muslim MP who voted in favour of the same-sex marriage bill tells me that most of the letters of protest that they received in response were from evangelical Christians, not Muslims. And, of course, it wasn’t a Muslim who took the life of poor Steven Simpson.

Yet ultimately I didn’t set out to write this piece to try to bridge the gap between Islam and homosexuality. I am not a theo­logian. Nor am I writing this in response to the ongoing parliamentary debate about the pros and cons of same-sex marriage. I am not a politician.

I am writing this because I want to live in a society in which all minorities – Jews, Muslims, gay people and others – are protected from violence and abuse, from demonisation and discrimination. And because I want to apologise for any hurt or offence that I may have caused to my gay brothers and lesbian sisters.

And yes, whatever our differences – straight or gay, religious or atheist, male or female – we are all brothers and sisters. As the great Muslim leader of the 7th century and son-in-law of the Prophet Muhammad, Ali ibn Abi Talib, once declared: “Remember that people are of two kinds; they are either your brothers in religion or your brothers in mankind.”

Mehdi Hasan is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and the political director of the Huffington Post UK, where this article is crossposted

Mehdi Hasan is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and the co-author of Ed: The Milibands and the Making of a Labour Leader. He was the New Statesman's senior editor (politics) from 2009-12.

[claremal-one]

Is Nevada More Wide-Open Than We Realize?

Welcome to a special edition of FiveThirtyEight’s weekly politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

sarahf (Sarah Frostenson, politics editor): Just what is going on in Nevada? On Wednesday, we had maybe our most spirited debate of the primary cycle yet, but what isn’t clear is how it did — or didn’t — affect the race. (Remember, despite capturing many, many headlines, former New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg isn’t actually on the ballot there.)

To some extent, the polling picture in Nevada is actually quite clear. Of the few recent polls we do have, Sen. Bernie Sanders sits atop nearly all of them, and according to our primary forecast, he has a 75 percent chance of winning the most votes there. Our model still gives former Vice President Joe Biden a 1 in 9 chance of pulling off an upset victory, former South Bend, Indiana, Mayor Pete Buttigieg a 1 in 15 shot and Sen. Elizabeth Warren a 1 in 20 shot. (Philanthropist Tom Steyer and Sen. Amy Klobuchar’s odds are a bit more underdog-ish, at 1 in 50 and 1 in 100, respectively.)

But as we know from New Hampshire, debates can matter. And Nevada is just a really hard state to poll, so what should we be keeping an eye on heading into the caucuses on Saturday?

clare.malone (Clare Malone, senior political writer): I’m reticent to say that the Nevada polls give us a clear picture of the race. I feel like it’s perhaps better to come with a more collective open mind, while acknowledging that Sanders is the front-runner numerically.

micah (Micah Cohen, managing editor): Yeah, I’d be very cautious with our Nevada forecast at the moment. It can only work with the polls it has, and there obviously haven’t been any post-debate polls yet. It’s always hard to predict these things but I’d bet that debate could swing the polls by a lot.

sarahf: Right, there are only five polls of Nevada for all of February. I hear you.

That said, Sanders has consistently done pretty well.

micah: But would anyone be surprised by a last-minute Warren surge in Nevada? Akin to Klobuchar’s in New Hampshire?

clare.malone: That’s one thing I’ve been turning over in my head, Micah. Is Warren a really good cultural fit for Nevada?

And by cultural fit I mean: She’s originally from Oklahoma and her professional work is inextricably linked with the housing crisis, which hit Nevada hard. She’s got the kind of working class background that could potentially resonate in a state whose caucuses are union-dominated. So maybe Nevada is a potential comeback state for her?

sarahf: I could definitely see a Warren comeback. One wild card, though is that this the first time Nevada has offered early voting, and so that means there were already nearly 75,000 votes cast before the debate last night.

It’s an important reminder that this is already happening in a number of Super Tuesday states, too — including California, which is the biggest delegate prize. I’m not sure it’ll matter, but I am intrigued by how it factors in.

clare.malone: Yes, I mean, I think the big roadblock for a potential Warren surge is what you say, Sarah — her poor showing in the first two states and a ream of voters who have already made up their minds.

And I will say, the fact that Nevada is union-dominated could DEFINITELY work against her in the sense that the unions seem to prefer Biden, or at least seem to prefer a more traditionally Democratic mainstream choice.

micah: Agreed. But, and Nate pointed this out on the podcast, most people who vote early are people who already have their minds made up. That is, there are still plenty of voters who haven’t voted, and those voters are more likely to be ones who Warren would presumably have a chance to win over because they’re undecided.

But going back to the “Is Warren a good fit for Nevada?” question, all the shared characteristics/experiences Clare highlights are dead on. But also … hmmm, how do I say this … I wonder how voters in Nevada will react to a forceful debate strategy by a female candidate.

That is, do voters consciously or subconsciously view Warren’s performance through a sexist/gendered lens? Most likely, right?

sarahf: Why Nevada more so than any other state?

perry (Perry Bacon Jr., senior writer): Right, that might apply to all 50 states.

micah: True. But Nevada’s population also has a smaller share of college-educated adults than the average state.

clare.malone: I think Nevada is a state that’s got a lot of Democratic primary voters who haven’t been as tuned-in to the primary process as those in Iowa or New Hampshire, which makes it a more useful barometer.

And I think Micah’s point is perhaps that some of those people might be more likely to have an unvarnished response to Warren and won’t have seen their response to her filtered through a months-long primary process lens.

The smart thing I think she did in her closing remarks at the debate was to say, I’ve been in politics for the least amount of time of anyone up here.

micah: Actually, I take some of this back: It looks like Nevada has a decent record of electing women …

clare.malone: I’m always skeptical of how people react to female presidential candidates, though … But point well taken.

micah: Totally agree — is the presidency different? (I think yes, but we don’t know that in a research sense.)

perry: I tend to think that Warren’s performance increased her chances of being one of the candidates who gets to 15 percent in several Super Tuesday states. She will get more media coverage out of this debate — I am still fairly bearish on that prospect.

sarahf: That certainly seems reasonable to me. She did have a strong debate performance, and as we saw with Klobuchar in New Hampshire, it really could impact voters who are still deciding. That said … I’m not sure I agree with this take from journalist Peter Hamby, but it did give me pause about Bloomberg’s performance and what that could mean for how Warren is perceived.

The Bloomberg commentary tonight reminds me of this from the second Trump/Hillary debate in 2016

https://t.co/0llnmwf4Bu

— Peter Hamby (@PeterHamby) February 20, 2020

Which brings us to the million dollar question of Wednesday’s debate: Did Bloomberg’s performance shake things up?

micah: I think that Hamby take is wrong (and he’s super smart). The key difference: This is a primary. That was a general. A bad debate performance in a general election is typically mollified, in terms of its impact on the vote, by partisanship. In a primary, voters are much more likely to switch between candidates. See Marco Rubio, New Hampshire, 2016.

clare.malone: I think Bloomberg’s performance definitely helped Biden.

sarahf: More than say, Warren, Clare?

clare.malone: Well, I think Bloomberg and Biden are inextricably linked. Bloomberg’s entire rise is premised on Biden’s fall. When Bloomberg falls, Biden rises.

Bloomberg was meant to be seen as the more effective moderate option, given Biden’s mediocre showing … and then Bloomberg had a mediocre showing.

micah: Yeah, I agree with that. If Bloomberg falls, it both directly and indirectly helps Biden. It helps him in terms of actual voters available, it helps Biden seem more liberal, it does a lot! The question on Warren feels somewhat more separate, although she’s certainly competing with Bloomberg for press attention.

perry: If Bloomberg had been great, that would have hurt basically everyone. There are a lot of Democrats who are going to just vote for someone and aren’t that moderate or liberal or ideologically committed.

So Bloomberg’s lackluster debate performance was good for Biden but also Buttigieg, Klobuchar — really, all of them.

But there’s another debate on Tuesday and Bloomberg’s ads run everywhere all of the time. I don’t think this precludes him from doing well on Super Tuesday.

clare.malone: I agree with that. I’m not entirely sure nervous Democratic voters will be ready to count him out.

One thing I take from that series of Pete Hamby tweets is: Sometimes it’s hard to tell what voters will tolerate!

sarahf: 2016 shook my confidence in understanding what voters want.

clare.malone: Lol

LOT GOING ON THERE.

micah: It doesn’t preclude Bloomberg from doing well on Super Tuesday, but it weirdly complicates the path for Sanders before then. Sanders is sitting atop national polls, atop Nevada polls and in a close second in South Carolina polls. As long as the Biden-Bloomberg-Buttigieg-Klobuchar lane was muddled, Sanders’s position is extra safe. Basically, he can win states with 25 to 30 percent of the vote.

But if Biden can get some momentum off of a Bloomberg decline (and maybe also Buttigieg and Klobuchar as they didn’t do much to help themselves), maybe Biden can … win Nevada?!?! Or crush it in South Carolina?

sarahf: Speaking of Biden … he really needs to finish second (or first!) in Nevada, right? Granted, it’s still only the third state to vote, but it’s the first one that isn’t 90 percent white, so it’s also sort of an important litmus test for candidates who have struggled to build diverse coalitions. (Warren, Buttigieg, Klobuchar — really everyone except Biden and Sanders, right?)

What should we be looking for there on Saturday? Currently, Sanders seems to hold an edge among Latino voters, but it’s not insurmountable as Amelia Thomson-DeVeaux and Nathaniel Rakich wrote on Thursday:

Sanders is highly favored by Latino voters in Nevada

Top Democratic candidates’ support among poll respondents who identified as Hispanic or Latino (depending on the poll), in six polls conducted since Feb. 9

Pollster Sanders Biden Steyer Warren Buttigieg Klobuchar Data for Progress 66% 7% 8% 5% 4% 7% WPA Intelligence 50 13 9 11 9 0 Beacon Research* 33 16 18 14 7 3 Univision 33 22 12 6 8 1 Mason-Dixon 31 34 3 6 7 5 Point Blank Political 20 8 29 8 12 4

*Internal poll for the Steyer campaign.

Source: Polls

clare.malone: Yeah, I think that Biden needs to make up a lot of ground in Nevada and South Carolina in order to save face (and save his campaign).

micah: Totally. My hunch is that Biden could have sold the media on “Iowa and New Hampshire aren’t representative — wait for Nevada and South Carolina.” But his campaign seemed to be selling “Iowa and New Hampshire aren’t representative — wait for South Carolina. (Nevada? Oh, don’t worry about that.)” And Nevada is actually more representative of the party, as Perry has written. So that was a hard sell.

clare.malone: If he makes a weak showing in Nevada, I think that could have them worried about his gold-standard state, South Carolina.

micah: I think he needs to do “well” in Nevada.

“Well” = “whatever the media decides ‘well’ equals”

clare.malone: Win/place/show?

Or just win/place?

sarahf: No more fourth-place finishes.

micah: Maybe he needs to finish above all the other candidates in the moderate lane?

Or does he also need to finish above Warren?

perry: I think I have in my head something like this for Nevada: Sanders, Biden, Warren, Buttigieg, Steyer, Klobuchar, with the last four kind of bunched up in high single digits and low teens. That’s just my assumption from seeing the various polls. If Biden is below second, I think there will be more super-negative coverage of him. And that can make South Carolina harder to win too.

sarahf: I agree that anything other than a second-place finish for Biden in Nevada is hard to spin if part of your explanation for doing poorly in New Hampshire and Nevada is that they aren’t representative. Plus, and as Micah said, Nevada is actually more representative of the Democratic Party than South Carolina. And 13 percent of the 2016 caucus electorate was black, according to the entrance polls, so if Biden’s pitch is I can win over black voters and build a diverse coalition, a lot is on the line for him there.

micah: Yeah, and as Geoffrey Skelley has written, Biden has lost a lot of support since Iowa and New Hampshire — among people of all races but also black voters. In other words, black voters aren’t some kind of special firewall for Biden.

So if Biden claws some of that back, it would help him in Nevada as well as South Carolina.

IDK, I just feel like this is a moment in the campaign when we might see a ton of volatility.

clare.malone: And if he loses South Carolina he might have to drop out.

Just sayin’

perry: I think Super Tuesday is so close now that I don’t think any candidate should drop out.

Early voting is already happening in some of those states. I’m not predicting what Biden will do, but he should not drop out after South Carolina if Super Tuesday is three days later.

micah: Biden could finish fourth in Nevada and lose in South Carolina and drop out and that would not at all surprise me.

Biden could win Nevada (or finish in a strong second), run away with South Carolina and be leading in national polls by the time we reach Super Tuesday, and that would not surprise me.

clare.malone: But I think if Biden can’t prove viability in South Carolina, it would be pretty humiliating.

perry: So in most of these states and the Democratic primary overall, I think the plurality of voters are white voters who do not support Sanders. So I think Micah is right — that speaks to the potential volatility of the race.

Super Tuesday has a lot of states with black/Latino populations larger than Iowa and New Hampshire, but still some states where it’s not that high. That’s why I think a Buttigieg or Klobuchar can win, say, Virginia if they perform well among college-educated white voters in particular and white voters overall.

sarahf: But if, as you say, Perry, there is a plurality of white voters who are on Team Anyone But Sanders, wouldn’t it behoove someone from the moderate lane who had disappointing finishes in Nevada and South Carolina to drop out? I wouldn’t put it past at least someone dropping out after Nevada.

Is that misguided?

perry: I don’t know what you get from dropping out.

micah: This isn’t based on anything in particular, but I would expect a couple dropouts before Super Tuesday.

You get to avoid humiliation.

sarahf: Also, potentially you avoid a messy contested convention, which I think has to factor into some of this? Or, if the storyline that many party insiders oppose his nomination is to be believed, I can imagine some members of the party pressuring candidates to drop out so there can be an alternative to Sanders.

micah: I think that’s right.

perry: If the moderate lane was coordinating to avoid Sanders winning, yes, one or two of them should drop out. Bloomberg’s campaign sent out a memo yesterday saying exactly that. It would be smart for some moderate bigwig (like House Speaker Nancy Pelosi) to encourage this.

micah: This is why I think the Nevada debate wasn’t great for Sanders. I thought Sanders had a fine debate on Wednesday night. Certainly we would expect his support to at the very least not go down. But he was leading in Nevada and rising in South Carolina and leading in a lot of Super Tuesday states.

The BLOOMBERG BOMBS storyline just introduces a ton of potential volatility — particularly in terms of how the moderate lane does or does not consolidate — and because the status quo was pretty great for Bernie. Volatility is potentially bad for him.

But maybe the party won’t actually move to fight a Sanders nomination.

perry: At this point, I just don’t see a lot of evidence that the moderate lane candidates are being realistic about their chances or are focused on boosting one member of that group, as opposed to themselves.

micah: It’s certainly hard to imagine Buttigieg and Klobuchar and Bloomberg cooperating with each other at the moment!

perry: The big question is whether that has to happen before Super Tuesday.

What the Bloomberg people were saying is that the coordination needs to happen now.

micah: Mathematically it kinda does, right?

sarahf: What is it, 38 percent of delegates are awarded by then?

perry: Like of course Klobuchar drops out after Super Tuesday, but they need her to drop out now.

sarahf: I think there is an incentive for moderate Democrats who are hand wringing over Sanders to consolidate ASAP.

micah: Yeah. This is why our forecast has such a high chance of no one winning a majority of pledged delegates:

sarahf: To bring it home … does this mean Nevada might actually be really important this year? It feels as if the media often kind of skips over Nevada in preparation for South Carolina.

perry: If Nevada results in one of these candidates packing it in, then yes, it matters.

clare.malone: It matters more because of the failures of the earlier states.

The field is just muddled in this way that feels unusual.

micah: It is unusual!

perry: Sanders winning three states in a row will be big no matter what. And another candidate winning Nevada would be huge. So I think Nevada matters hugely.

from Clare Malone – FiveThirtyEight https://ift.tt/38IE58G

via https://ift.tt/1B8lJZR

[bountyofbeads]

The Global Machine Behind the Rise of Far-Right Nationalism https://www.nytimes.com/2019/08/10/world/europe/sweden-immigration-nationalism.html

The Global Machine Behind the Rise of Far-Right Nationalism

(Russia’s hand in all of this is largely hidden from view. But fingerprints abound.)

Sweden was long seen as a progressive utopia. Then came waves of immigrants — and the forces of populism at home and abroad.

By Jo Becker | Published Aug. 10, 2019 | New York Times | Posted August 11, 2019 8:38 PM ET |

RINKEBY, Sweden — Johnny Castillo, a Peruvian-born neighborhood watchman in this district of Stockholm, still puzzles over the strange events that two years ago turned the central square of this predominantly immigrant community into a symbol of multiculturalism run amok.

First came a now-infamous comment by President Trump, suggesting that Sweden’s history of welcoming refugees was at the root of a violent attack in Rinkeby the previous evening, even though nothing had actually happened.

“You look at what’s happening last night in Sweden. Sweden! Who would believe this? Sweden!” Mr. Trump told supporters at a rally on Feb. 18, 2017. “They took in large numbers. They’re having problems like they never thought possible.”

The president’s source: Fox News, which had excerpted a short film promoting a dystopian view of Sweden as a victim of its asylum policies, with immigrant neighborhoods crime-ridden “no-go zones.”

But two days later, as Swedish officials were heaping bemused derision on Mr. Trump, something did in fact happen in Rinkeby: Several dozen masked men attacked police officers making a drug arrest, throwing rocks and setting cars ablaze.

And it was right around that time, according to Mr. Castillo and four other witnesses, that Russian television crews showed up, offering to pay immigrant youths “to make trouble” in front of the cameras.

“They wanted to show that President Trump is right about Sweden,” Mr. Castillo said, “that people coming to Europe are terrorists and want to disturb society.”

That nativist rhetoric — that immigrants are invading the homeland — has gained ever-greater traction, and political acceptance, across the West amid dislocations wrought by vast waves of migration from the Middle East, Africa and Latin America. In its most extreme form, it is echoed in the online manifesto of the man accused of gunning down 22 people last weekend in El Paso.

In the nationalists’ message-making, Sweden has become a prime cautionary tale, dripping with schadenfreude. What is even more striking is how many people in Sweden — progressive, egalitarian, welcoming Sweden — seem to be warming to the nationalists’ view: that immigration has brought crime, chaos and a fraying of the cherished social safety net, not to mention a withering away of national culture and tradition.

Fueled by an immigration backlash — Sweden has accepted more refugees per capita than any other European country — right-wing populism has taken hold, reflected most prominently in the steady ascent of a political party with neo-Nazi roots, the Sweden Democrats. In elections last year, they captured nearly 18 percent of the vote.

To dig beneath the surface of what is happening in Sweden, though, is to uncover the workings of an international disinformation machine, devoted to the cultivation, provocation and amplication of far-right, anti-immigrant passions and political forces. Indeed, that machine, most influentially rooted in Vladimir V. Putin’s Russia and the American far right, underscores a fundamental irony of this political moment: the globalization of nationalism.

The central target of these manipulations from abroad — and the chief instrument of the Swedish nationalists’ success — is the country’s increasingly popular, and virulently anti-immigrant, digital echo chamber.

A New York Times examination of its content, personnel and traffic patterns illustrates how foreign state and nonstate actors have helped to give viral momentum to a clutch of Swedish far-right web sites.

Russian and Western entities that traffic in disinformation, including an Islamaphobic think tank whose former chairman is now Mr. Trump’s national security adviser, have been crucial linkers to the Swedish sites, helping to spread their message to susceptible Swedes.

At least six Swedish sites have received financial backing through advertising revenue from a Russian- and Ukrainian-owned auto-parts business based in Berlin, whose online sales network oddly contains buried digital links to a range of far-right and other socially divisive content.

Writers and editors for the Swedish sites have been befriended by the Kremlin. And in one strange Rube Goldbergian chain of events, a frequent German contributor to one Swedish site has been implicated in the financing of a bombing in Ukraine, in a suspected Russian false-flag operation.

The distorted view of Sweden pumped out by this disinformation machine has been used, in turn, by anti-immigrant parties in Britain, Germany, Italy and elsewhere to stir xenophobia and gin up votes, according to the Institute for Strategic Dialogue, a London-based nonprofit that tracks the online spread of far-right extremism.

“I’d put Sweden up there with the anti-Soros campaign,” said Chloe Colliver, a researcher for the institute, referring to anti-Semitic attacks on George Soros, the billionaire benefactor of liberal causes. “It’s become an enduring centerpiece of the far-right conversation.”

From Margins to Mainstream Mattias Karlsson, the Sweden Democrats’ international secretary and chief ideologist, likes to tell the story of how he became a soldier in what he has described as the “existential battle for our culture’s and our nation’s survival.”

It was the mid-1990s and Mr. Karlsson, now 41, was attending high school in the southern city of Vaxjo. Sweden was accepting a record number of refugees from the Balkan War and other conflicts. In Vaxjo and elsewhere, young immigrant men began joining brawling “kicker” gangs, radicalizing Mr. Karlsson and drawing him toward the local skinhead scene.

He took to wearing a leather jacket with a Swedish flag on the back and was soon introduced to Mats Nilsson, a Swedish National Socialist leader who gave him a copy of “Mein Kampf.” They began to debate: Mr. Nilsson argued that the goal should be ethnic purity — the preservation of “Swedish DNA.” Mr. Karlsson countered that the focus should be on preserving national culture and identity. That, he said, was when Mr. Nilsson conferred on him an epithet of insufficient commitment to the cause — “meatball patriot,” meaning that “I thought that every African or Arab can come to this country as long as they assimilate and eat meatballs.”

It is an account that offers the most benign explanation for an odious association. Whatever the case, in 1999, he joined the Sweden Democrats, a party undeniably rooted in Sweden’s neo-Nazi movement. Indeed, scholars of the far right say that is what sets it apart from most anti-immigration parties in Europe and makes its rise from marginalized to mainstream so remarkable.

The party was founded in 1988 by several Nazi ideologues, including a former member of the Waffen SS. Early on, it sought international alliances with the likes of the White Aryan Resistance, a white supremacist group founded by a former grand dragon of the Ku Klux Klan. Some Sweden Democrats wore Nazi uniforms to party functions. Its platform included the forced repatriation of all immigrants since 1970.

That was not, however, a winning formula in a country where social democrats have dominated every election for more than a century.

While attending university, Mr. Karlsson had met Jimmie Akesson, who took over the Sweden Democrats’ youth party in 2000 and became party leader in 2005. Mr. Akesson was outspoken in his belief that Muslim refugees posed “the biggest foreign threat to Sweden since the Second World War.” But to make that case effectively, he and Mr. Karlsson agreed, they needed to remake the party’s image.

“We needed to really address our past,” Mr. Karlsson said.

They purged neo-Nazis who had been exposed by the press. They announced a “zero tolerance” policy toward extreme xenophobia and racism, emphasized their youthful leadership and urged members to dress presentably. And while immigration remained at the center of their platform, they moderated the way they talked about it.

No longer was the issue framed in terms of keeping certain ethnic groups out, or deporting those already in. Rather it was about how unassimilated migrants were eviscerating not just the nation’s cultural identity but also the social-welfare heart of the Swedish state.

Under the grand, egalitarian idea of the “folkhemmet,” or people’s home, in which the country is a family and its citizens take care of one another, Swedes pay among the world’s highest effective tax rates, in return for benefits like child care, health care, free college education and assistance when they grow old.

The safety net has come under strain for a host of economic and demographic reasons, many of which predate the latest refugee flood. But in the Sweden Democrats’ telling, the blame lies squarely at the feet of the foreigners, many of whom lag far behind native Swedes in education and economic accomplishment. One party advertisement depicted a white woman trying to collect benefits while being pursued by niqab-wearing immigrants pushing strollers.

To what extent the party’s makeover is just window dressing is an open question.

The doubts were highlighted in what became known as “the Iron Pipe Scandal” in 2012. Leaked video showed two Sweden Democrat MPs and the party’s candidate for attorney general hurling racist slurs at a comedian of Kurdish descent, then threatening a drunken witness with iron pipes.

Under Mr. Akesson and Mr. Karlsson, the party has hosted the American white nationalist Richard Spencer. High-ranking party officials have bounced between Sweden and Hungary, ruled by the authoritarian nationalist Prime Minister Viktor Orban. Mr. Karlsson himself has come under fire for calling out an extremist site as neo-fascist while using an alias to recommend posts as “worth reading” to party members.

“There’s a public face and the face they wear behind closed doors,” said Daniel Poohl, who heads Expo, a Stockholm-based foundation that tracks far-right extremism.

Still, even detractors admit that strategy has worked. In 2010, the Sweden Democrats captured 5.7 percent of the vote, enough for the party, and Mr. Karlsson, to enter Parliament for the first time. That share has steadily increased along with the growing population of refugees. (Today, roughly 20 percent of Sweden’s population is foreign born.)

At its peak in 2015, Sweden accepted 163,000 asylum-seekers, mostly from Afghanistan, Somalia and Syria. Though border controls and tighter rules have eased that flow, Ardalan Shekarabi, the country’s public administration minister, acknowledged that his government had been slow to act.

Mr. Shekarabi, an immigrant from Iran, said the sheer number of refugees had overwhelmed the government’s efforts to integrate them.

“I absolutely don’t think that the majority of Swedes have racist or xenophobic views, but they had questions about this migration policy and the other parties didn’t have any answers,” he said. “Which is one of the reasons why Sweden Democrats had a case.”

A Right-Wing Echo Chamber

As the 2018 elections approached, Swedish counterintelligence was on high alert for foreign interference. Russia, the hulking neighbor to the east, was seen as the main threat. After the Kremlin’s meddling in the 2016 American election, Sweden had reason to fear it could be next.

“Russia’s goal is to weaken Western countries by polarizing the debate,” said Daniel Stenling, the Swedish Security Service’s counterintelligence chief. “For the last five years, we have seen more and more aggressive intelligence work against our nation.”

But as it turned out, there was no hacking and dumping of internal campaign documents, as in the United States. Nor was there an overt effort to swing the election to the Sweden Democrats, perhaps because the party, in keeping with Swedish popular opinion, has become more critical of the Kremlin than some of its far-right European counterparts.

Instead, security officials say, the foreign influence campaign took a different, more subtle form: helping nurture Sweden’s rapidly evolving far-right digital ecosystem.

For years, the Sweden Democrats had struggled to make their case to the public. Many mainstream media outlets declined their ads. The party even had difficulty getting the postal service to deliver its mailers. So it built a network of closed Facebook pages whose reach would ultimately exceed that of any other party.

But to thrive in the viral sense, that network required fresh, alluring content. It drew on a clutch of relatively new websites whose popularity was exploding.

Members of the Sweden Democrats helped create two of them: Samhallsnytt (News in Society) and Nyheter Idag (News Today). By the 2018 election year, they, along with a site called Fria Tider (Free Times), were among Sweden’s 10 most shared news sites.

These sites each reached one-tenth of all Swedish internet users a week and, according to an Oxford University study, accounted for 85 percent of the election-related “junk news” — deemed deliberately distorted or misleading — shared online. There were other sites, too, all injecting anti-immigrant and Islamophobic messaging into the Swedish political bloodstream.

“Immigration Behind Shortage of Drinking Water in Northern Stockholm,” read one recent headline. “Refugee Minor Raped Host Family’s Daughter; Thought It Was Legal,” read another. “Performed Female Genital Mutilation on Her Children — Given Asylum in Sweden,” read a third.

Russia’s hand in all of this is largely hidden from view. But fingerprints abound.

For instance, one writer for Samhallsnytt, who previously worked for the Sweden Democrats, was recently declined parliamentary press accreditation after the security police determined he had been in contact with Russian intelligence.

Fria Tider is considered not only one of the most extreme sites, but also among the most Kremlin-friendly. It frequently swaps material with the Russian propaganda outlet Sputnik. The site is linked, via domain ownership records, to Granskning Sverige, called the Swedish “troll factory” for its efforts to entrap and embarrass mainstream journalists. Among its frequent targets: journalists who write negatively about Russia.

“We’ve had death threats, spam attacks, emails — this year has been totally crazy,” said Eva Burman, the editor of Eskilstuna-Kuriren, a newspaper that found itself in the cross hairs after criticizing the Russian annexation of Crimea and investigating Granskning Sverige itself.

At the magazine Nya Tider, the editor, Vavra Suk, has traveled to Moscow as an election observer and to Syria, where he produced Kremlin-friendly accounts of the civil war. Nya Tider has published work by Alexander Dugin, an ultranationalist Russian philosopher who has been called “Putin’s Rasputin”; Mr. Suk’s writings for Mr. Dugin’s think tank include one titled “Donald Trump Can Make Europe Great Again.”

Nya Tider’s contributors include Manuel Ochsenreiter, editor of Zuerst!, a German far-right newspaper. Mr. Ochsenreiter — who has appeared regularly on RT, the Kremlin propaganda channel — worked until recently for Markus Frohnmaier, a member of the German Bundestag representing the far-right Alternative for Germany party. Documents leaked to a consortium of European media outlets — documents that Mr. Frohnmaier has called fake — have suggested that Moscow aided his election campaign in order to have an “absolutely controlled MP.”

Mr. Ochsenreiter, for his part, has been implicated in Polish court in the financing of a 2018 firebombing attack on a Hungarian cultural center in Ukraine. The plot, according to testimony from a Polish extremist charged with carrying it out, was designed to pin responsibility on Ukrainian nationalists and stoke ethnic tensions, to Russia’s benefit. Mr. Ochsenreiter has not been charged in Poland, but prosecutors in Berlin said they had begun a preliminary investigation. He has denied involvement.

Mr. Suk declined to comment.

Then there is Nyheter Idag. Its founder, Chang Frick — a former Sweden Democrat official who takes a maverick’s glee in his defiance of orthodoxy — readily admits to being a paid contributor to RT. At a pizza shop near his home one afternoon, he pointedly noted that his girlfriend was Russian and, with a flourish, pulled out a wad of rubles from a recent trip.

“Here is my real boss! It’s Putin!” he laughed.

But Mr. Frick, the son of a Swedish Roma and a Polish Jew, said Nyheter Idag answered to no one, neither the Sweden Democrats nor the Kremlin, though he added that his relentless reporting about the problems posed by immigrants dovetailed with both their agendas.

“People can see what’s happening in the streets,” he said, adding, “I’ve been accused of being a racist — I’m being ‘paid by the Sweden Democrats,’ I’m ‘a spy for Russia.’ That just tells me I’m kicking where it hurts.”

Still, he said he had reason to believe that “there is a little bit of collusion between Russia and some Swedish right-wing media.” One of his early scoops involved exposing the drinking and womanizing shenanigans of a Sweden Democrat member of Parliament who had been invited to Moscow. During that reporting trip, he said, he was invited to serve as an independent observer in Russia’s presidential election and to meet Mr. Putin.

He declined the invitation.

There is another curious Russian common denominator: Six of Sweden’s alt-right sites have drawn advertising revenue from a network of online auto-parts stores based in Germany and owned by four businessmen from Russia and Ukraine, three of whom have adopted German-sounding surnames.

The ads were first noticed by the Swedish newspaper Dagens Nyheter, which discovered that while they appeared to be for a variety of outlets, all traced back to the same Berlin address and were owned by a parent company, Autodoc GmbH.

The Times found that the company had also placed ads on anti-Semitic and other extremist sites in Germany, Hungary, Austria and elsewhere in Europe.

Which raised a question: Was the auto-parts dealer simply trying to drum up business, or was it also trying to support the far-right cause?

Rikard Lindholm, co-founder of a data-driven marketing firm who has worked with Swedish authorities to combat disinformation, dug deeper into the Autodoc network.

Hidden beneath the user-friendly interface of some of the earliest Autodoc sites lay what Mr. Lindholm, an expert in the forensic analysis of online traffic, described as “icebergs” of blog-like content completely unrelated to auto parts, translated into a variety of languages. A visitor to one of the car-parts sites could not simply access this content from the home page; instead, one had to know and type in the full URL.

“It’s like they have a back door and it’s open and you can have a look around, but to do that you have to know that the door is there,” Mr. Lindholm said.

Much of the content was not political. But there were links to posts about a range of divisive social issues, some of them translated into other languages. One hidden link — about female genital mutilation in Muslim countries — had been translated from English to Polish before being posted. Yet another post, from a site called AnsweringIslam.net, concluded, “Islam hates you.”

Thomas Casper, a spokesman for Autodoc, said the company had no “interest at all in supporting alt-right media,” and added, “We vehemently oppose racism and far-right principles.”

He said the company’s digital advertising team worked with third parties to place ads on “trusted websites with substantial traffic.” Autodoc, he said, had instituted controls to try to ensure that it no longer advertised on far-right sites.

As for the icebergs, after receiving The Times’s inquiry, the company removed what Mr. Casper called the “obviously dubious and outdated content.” It had originally been placed there, he said, to improve search engine optimization.

But Mr. Lindholm said that made no sense. “By linking to irrelevant content, it actually hurts their business because Google frowns on that,” he said.

Links Abroad

Another way to look inside the explosive growth of Sweden’s alt-right outlets is to see who is linking to them. The more links, especially from well-trafficked outlets, the more likely Google is to rank the sites as authoritative. That, in turn, means that Swedes are more likely to see them when they search for, say, immigration and crime.

The Times analyzed more than 12 million available links from over 18,000 domains to four prominent far-right sites — Nyheter Idag, Samhallsnytt, Fria Tider and Nya Tider. The data was culled by Mr. Lindholm from two search engine optimization tools and represents a snapshot of all known links through July 2.

As expected, given the relative paucity of Swedish speakers worldwide, most of the links came from Swedish-language sites.

But the analysis turned up a surprising number of links from well-trafficked foreign-language sites — which suggests that the Swedish sites’ rapid growth has been driven to a significant degree from abroad.

“It has the makings, the characteristics, of an operation whose purpose or goal is to help these sites become relevant by getting them to be seen as widely as possible,” Mr. Lindholm said.

Over all, more than one in five links were from non-Swedish language sites. English-language sites, along with Norwegian ones, linked the most, nearly a million times. But other European-language far-right sites — Russian but also Czech, Danish, German, Finnish and Polish — were also frequent linkers.

The Times identified 356 domains that linked to all four Swedish sites.

Many are well known in American far-right circles. Among them is the Gatestone Institute, a think tank whose site regularly stokes fears about Muslims in the United States and Europe. Its chairman until last year was John R. Bolton, now Mr. Trump’s national security adviser, and its funders have included Rebekah Mercer, a prominent wealthy Trump supporter.

Other domains that linked to all four Swedish sites included Stormfront, one of the oldest and largest American white supremacist sites; Voice of Europe, a Kremlin-friendly right-wing site; a Russian-language blog called Sweden4Rus.nu; and FreieWelt.net, a site supportive of the AfD in Germany.

This loosely knit global network does not just help increase readership in Sweden; researchers have tracked how Russian state outlets like RT and Sputnik, along with Western platforms like Infowars and Breitbart, have picked up and amplified Swedish immigration-related stories to galvanize xenophobia among their audiences.

Bjorn Palmertz, a disinformation specialist at the Swedish Defense University, said this “information laundry” had resulted in globally viral stories like the one about the Swedish town that allowed a mosque to issue calls to prayer while denying a church’s application to ring its bells — never mind that the church had not applied.

“Sweden is portrayed either as a heaven or a hell,” said Annika Rembe, Sweden’s consul general in New York. “But conservative value-based politicians in Hungary, Poland, the United States and elsewhere would use Sweden as an example of a failed state: If you follow this path, your society will look like Sweden’s.”

The ‘Village Of The World’

The auditorium at Rinkebyskolan, a middle school across the street from Rinkeby’s town square, filled rapidly. Women wearing hijabs and burqas spilled in, taking their seats on the left. Men sat to the right. From the speakers came the voice of an imam reading from the Quran.

Developed as part of a 1960s-era government initiative to build a million affordable dwellings, Rinkeby was originally home to a mix of Swedes and laborers from southern Europe. Over time it became known as Sweden’s “Village of the World,” with people from more than 100 countries living in drab, low-slung apartment blocks. Today, more than 91 percent of Rinkeby’s roughly 16,400 residents are immigrants and their children.

At a long table in front of the auditorium sat Niclas Andersson, a towering man who serves as Rinkeby’s police chief. Once prayers concluded, the audience began peppering him with questions.

Some worried about drug trafficking inside the apartment complexes, others about the prevalence of guns. Could the police install more cameras?

To be sure, Mr. Andersson said in an interview afterward, there were problems in Rinkeby, his posting for 18 years. But it is hardly the hellscape that nationalists bent on painting Sweden as a failed state hold it out to be.

Many newcomers still struggle to get a foothold in the job market, so unemployment is relatively high, at 8.8 percent. And in the larger Rinkeby-Kista borough, there were 825 reported episodes of violent crime last year, a rate 36 percent higher per capita than Stockholm as a whole.

But Mr. Andersson does not recognize the Rinkeby portrayed in the movie — directed by a filmmaker who has shot political ads for Republicans in Congress — that led Mr. Trump to make his “last night in Sweden” remarks. Rinkeby is not a no-go zone, Mr. Andersson said, an assertion supported by the film’s chief cameraman, who has acknowledged that officers who seemed to suggest otherwise had been edited out of context.

In fact, the number of police officers in Rinkeby has more than quadrupled since 2015. Assaults and robberies are down, Mr. Andersson said. Fatal shootings are down, too — of 11 in Stockholm last year, one was in Rinkeby. Nationally, the violent crime rate is one-fifth that of the United States.

“It was a heavily slanted picture,” Mr. Andersson said. “You zero in on a couple of incidents, then use that to describe the whole area.”

By the time Mr. Trump zeroed in on Rinkeby, “the government was tackling the problems,” said Amela Mahovic, a local reporter for Swedish public television. When the actual clash broke out soon after, she said, community elders spread the word to local youths: “You need to stop this.”

But soon, they said, they found that outside forces wanted the world to see a different picture.

Guleed Mohamed, then a researcher for public television, said he had spoken to a reporting team from Russia and Ukraine in Rinkeby Square that week and had tried to ask about Russia.

“They changed the subject to how multiculturalism doesn’t work,” he recalled. “And then they quickly connected that to the clash — ‘I want to talk about the riot. Don’t you think this is connected to the influx of migrants?’”

Hani Al Saleh, a Syrian who came to Sweden as a teenager, was working as a guard in Rinkeby. Tall and muscular with a sculpted beard, Mr. Saleh is known as “Amo,” or uncle, by the local youth. He said three young immigrants he knew told him that Russian journalists had tried to bribe them with 400 kronor (about $43) apiece.

“Boys, do you want to do some action in front of the camera?” they said the Russian journalists asked them.

Mr. Saleh later took a Danish journalist to meet two of the young men. After searching online, they recognized the logo of the Russian state-owned news channel NTV, along with the Russians who had made the offer.

The journalist contacted NTV, which denied the whole thing. But besides Mr. Castillo, the night watchman, The Times found other witnesses who backed up Mr. Saleh’s account.

Elvir Kazinic and Mustafa Zatara said they were in the square a couple of days after the clash when they overheard another group of young men talking about Russian journalists and a 400 krona bribe to fight.

“To stoop to that level and offer kids money,” said Mr. Kazinic, a Bosnian émigré who serves on Rinkeby’s district council, “that is low.”

Mr. Zatara, a poet, knows well the consequences of stirring up anti-immigrant racism. His father, Hasan Zatara, a Palestinian, came to Sweden in 1969, earned a high school diploma and opened a convenience store.

Standing behind the cash register on a January afternoon 27 years ago, he became the final victim of John Ausonius, a serial shooter who terrorized immigrant communities, killing one person and wounding 10 others. Hasan Zatara was paralyzed.

Mr. Ausonius later said he was inspired by the anti-immigrant party of the day, New Democracy.

“When my father was shot in 1992, we had New Democracy,” Mustafa Zatara said. “Today we have the Sweden Democrats. Then, they wore bomber jackets and boots. Today, they wear bow ties and suits. It’s normalized now in the Swedish political corridor.”

Building A Coalition

After the commotion in Rinkeby died down, Russian news agencies kept calling the police, fruitlessly asking permission to ride with officers patrolling the district.

“This went on week in and week out,” said Varg Gyllander, the department’s press officer.

Last September, right after the Swedish elections, the requests abruptly stopped.

The Sweden Democrats had their best showing yet. Their nearly 18 percent share of the vote hamstrung Swedish politics, with the mainstream parties unable to form a government for more than four months.

The Social Democrats finally formed a shaky coalition that excluded the Sweden Democrats. But it came at a price: some prominent center-right politicians are now expressing a willingness to work with the Sweden Democrats, portending a new political alignment.

In February, the Sweden Democrats’ Mr. Karlsson strode into a Washington-area hotel where leaders of the American and European right were gathering for the annual Conservative Political Action Conference. As he settled in at the lobby bar, straightening his navy three-piece suit, he was clearly very much at home.

At the conference — where political boot-camp training mixed with speeches by luminaries like Mr. Trump and the British populist leader Nigel Farage — Mr. Karlsson hoped to learn about the infrastructure of the American conservative movement, particularly its funding and use of the media and think tanks to broaden its appeal. But in a measure of how nationalism and conservatism have merged in Mr. Trump’s Washington, many of the Americans with whom he wanted to network were just as eager to network with him.

Mr. Karlsson had flown in from Colorado, where he had given a speech at the Steamboat Institute, a conservative think tank. That morning, Tobias Andersson, 23, the Sweden Democrats’ youngest member of Parliament and a contributor to Breitbart, had spoken to Americans for Tax Reform, a bastion of tax-cut orthodoxy.

Now, they found themselves encircled by admirers like Matthew Hurtt, the director for external relationships at Americans for Prosperity, part of the billionaire Koch brothers’ political operation, and Matthew Tyrmand, a board member of Project Veritas, a conservative group that uses undercover filming to sting its targets.

Mr. Tyrmand, who is also an adviser to a senator from Poland’s anti-immigration ruling Law and Justice party, was particularly eager. “You are taking your country back!” he exclaimed.

Mr. Karlsson smiled.

Christina Anderson contributed reporting.

[loudlytransparenttrash]

Islam apologists, you only have yourselves to blame

I know that nothing in politics is simple enough to be condensed down to a single issue but as close as this last election was, there's a number of factors that helped swing the election in favor of Trump. One of them was his no nonsense approach to Islam. For years Muslim moderates, liberals and anti-extremists have been writing, lecturing and studying how to effectively reform Islam, deradicalize its followers and make it more compatible with the 21st century. Recognizing the distinction between people and ideas, these reformers promote tolerance and peace towards Muslims but unapologetically critique the ideas held in the Quran. This approach represents the very essence of American values - treat all individuals equally but scrutinize all ideas rigorously with critical thinking and rationality.

But at every turn, the reformers have been attacked, not just receiving threats from Muslims but by other liberals. Sam Harris was called an Islamophobe for criticizing the bad ideas held in the Quran. Maajid Nawaz, a Muslim of Pakistani origin and Ayaan Hirsi Ali, an ex-muslim from Somalia are still being labeled anti-Muslim extremists by the SPLC because they talk about reforming Islam. Only two days ago Ali had to cancel her trip to Australia as she received death threats. Death threats for speaking about Islam. Dr. Bill Warner, an Islamic scholar who has studied the Quran for over 30 years, was told by the president of a Florida college that he should be censored and never be allowed to speak because he was critical of Islam. When did it become standard practice for universities to support the censorship of ideas? Ali Rizvi, Wafa Sultan, Sarah Haider and other critics of Islam have all faced the same explosive reactions from leftists, the defenders of Islam, who don't have the slightest clue what they're defending. Merely scrutinizing an ideology is treated as social barbarism by those unable to draw the distinction between criticism of an ideology and contempt for its practitioners. Ironically, those actually living under oppressive Islamic regimes are often grateful for the secular voices speaking out on their behalf because with Islamic blasphemy and apostasy laws they have no voice.

The left loves to assure us that terror has nothing to do with Islam yet these terror groups are only following and copying what’s in the Quran and Hadith. It’s why we have the term “moderate Muslims” as they aren’t following their Quran, many Muslims have never even read it, they don’t adhere to the fundamentals of Islam as ISIS does. When you really start getting into the meat of the Quran and Hadith, there are doctrines that pose staunch opposition with classical liberal values. It's easy to say the critics are taking the Quran out of context but there are hundreds of Islamic scholars and clerics all studying the context and none of them can agree on one interpretation. That’s why Dr. Shabir Ally can talk about the fair nature of Islam while Abu Bakr al-Baghdadithe, who also has a PhD in Islamic studies is running a campaign of hate and terror in the name of Allah. They get their fundamentals directly from the Quran and the Hadith. There isn’t a moderate version and a terror version, it comes from the same book. The same verses can and are interpreted in different ways by different sects but the fact that it’s full of bloodshed, hatred towards infidels, beheadings and mutilation, they leave the door wide open to such easy interpretation.

Many educated Muslim apologists arguing for the peaceful nature of Islam often avoid the Hadith, avoid violent verses from the Quran, and jump through hoops to try to interpret “beat them,” “slay them,” or “If somebody (a Muslim) discards his religion, kill him” in a peaceful way. But how on earth do they expect a billion Muslims - many in highly illiterate regions - to all interpret them as anything other than literal? Their violence and views come directly from the Quran and the Hadith, and for this reason alone these texts are imperfect and subsequently, so is Islam. The Quran is full of contradictions, granting Islam a tremendous amount of power because it can claim to be a religion of peace while simultaneously advocating jihad. People often say things like Islam was the first to give women their rights but Muslims are given the right to rape infidel women, permitted to rape and beat their wives and take part in polygamy. Muhammad himself at the age of 53 married and had sex with a 9 year old girl.

In Saudi Arabia, one of the most devout Muslim nations and home of Islam's most holy site requires women have chaperones at all times, forbids them to drive, forces them to cover from head to toe and whipping and stoning women for being raped or holding hands with another female. Muslim women are denied education and within many Muslim countries only a quarter of the women are literate. In many Muslim nations they give women half a testimony in court, they aren’t allowed to speak or defend themselves in court without a male relative to speak for them and they’re often beaten or killed if they stray from any of these laws. God forbid if she has a bacon cheeseburger, wants to wear a t-shirt in summer or have a one-night stand. Even in the more “moderate” Muslim countries such as Turkey, their public swimming pools have great imposing dividing walls to keep women out of sight. Women aren’t even allowed to pray with the men, they are sent to the back or into another room. And god help her if she wants out of Islam. In some Muslim countries there are laws in place that condemn apostate with a death sentence while the rest have some other form of punishment for apostasy. They all at the very least have blasphemy laws that requires punishment of anyone who criticizes Islam or Muhammad. So much for freedom and women’s rights... The worst part is, Canada has recently voted for this exact Sharia law to be introduced into the country.

Apologists claim that the radical views and actions of many Muslims don’t represent Islam and they are using a peaceful religion for their extremism but religious extremism is not a problem if your core beliefs are non-violent. The problem isn’t fundamentalism. The only problem with Islamic fundamentalism is the fundamentals of Islam. These “radical views” which the left disassociates with Islam are really the most authentic display of Islam. It’s why 50 Muslim countries ban LGBT groups, 10 Muslim countries can legally kill gay people and many more legally whip and imprison gays, 16 Muslim countries ban all Jewish people from entering - how can they say it’s only a tiny fraction of Muslims who hold these extreme views when we are talking about entire Islamic countries following none other than Islamic law? We cannot be silent on this issue. We cannot let fear blind us or lose our compassion but we need to be discussing ways to promote assimilation and secular Western values.

Unfortunately the second we start to have this conversation, the Islamophobia card gets pulled out by privileged, blue haired buffoons who have never had their clitoris sliced off, have never had acid thrown on their face and have never been forced into arranged marriages against their will as those who they are calling Islamophobic have. Their idea of oppression is not being given free tampons from the government. They fail to distinguish the difference between anti-Muslim and anti-Islam so anyone who questions Islam must automatically make them Islamophobics who hate all Muslims. Phobia means an irrational fear and there is nothing irrational about approaching Islam with calculated caution but if you question it you are called a racist. Islam is not a race. It is a belief and a way of life that people of many different races choose whether or not to follow. It is an idea and if we can’t criticize an idea, then free speech is truly dead. All ideas should be questioned, no belief should be able to go unquestioned. If a belief is true then it will hold up to scrutiny and if it doesn’t then why try to hide it? There are thousands being killed and millions suffering worldwide in the name of a religion and yet some people are still concerned that we shouldn’t challenge a belief system for fear of offending? If terror attacks shake the beliefs of Muslims worldwide as much as they say they do and then it should lead them to question the violent nature at the core of their ideology and embrace an overhaul and begin to hold Islam to the same standard we demand and expect from other religions.

The fact is a lot of Americans are afraid because they don't understand what's going on, they know there's a problem and they want to solve it in a kind and compassionate way but sadly the voices of reason, those that may be able to provide an actual viable solution are squashed. We should be having calm and rational conversation and debating how Islam needs to reform itself to be compatible with classical liberal values in the 21st century. Instead the conversation is constantly being hijacked by the apologetic, irrational left with character assassinating slurs which has silenced many great minds on the issue. Rather than having a progressive conversation about Islam, most politicians keep silent or make excuses for it, allowing someone like Trump to step in because he's the only one that has ever addressed it. It’s why we have to put aside the septic PC gag and talk about this rationally because by silencing the intellectuals, the Muslims calling for reform and the anti-extremists, liberals on the left have handed a platform to Trump on a silver platter. The left only have themselves to blame for the rise of the Trump to presidency. Islam is guilty and the more you try to convince us it’s peaceful, the more we will prove to you that it isn’t. We must speak out and Islam must be criticized without relent for dogma, inequality, unwarranted violence and sexism have no place in the evolution and future of mankind.

[seenashwrite]

The Midwife: Part Two

Status: Complete (Part 2 of 4) Word Count: 2.4K Category: Mini-series; Behind-the-scenes canon compliant; Mystery; Historical; Teamwork; On-the-hunt   Rating: Teen & Up Character(s): Various O.C.s; References to familiar people/places Pairing(s): N/A Warnings: None Author’s Note: post-story Overall Summary: In the mid-1950s, a member of the New York City chapter of the Men of Letters is sent to the United Kingdom to assist with what appears to be another stack of cold case dead-ends, when he suddenly finds himself questioning one of his closest-held convictions.

         *~* The Midwife : Master Post *~*

. 

She was already sipping and though the sugar cubes in my teacup had long dissolved, I was still watching the dark orange liquid swirl around my spoon. The soft clink of her cup coming to rest on its saucer prompted me to stop. I cleared my throat to try and clear my head, setting the spoon aside, then raising my eyes.

"Try it,” she said. “Make sure you like it. We'll whip up a different kind if not."

"I'm sure it will be fine." I lifted my cup and drank to prove it to her, forced a small smile as I swallowed. I was a coffee person. I was not going to let my hostess know.

"I thought I'd begin with imparting information. You and your colleague have gotten many things..."

"Wrong?"

"Twisted."

"Ah."

"The professor is not elusive due to assistance by a coven. Not by what I'd call magic."

"What would you call it?"

She rotated the teacup slowly between her hands, eyes not leaving mine as she replied. “I would call it ingenuity.”

"And her daughter?"

"The girl is long dead. The completely ordinary girl. Your second incorrect assumption."

"But Sunder had been with angels, we---"

"I cannot speak to the professor's personal life. I can only say she was in the company of a Seraphim before she left."

"But how can you be certain that they weren't.... weren't involved for longer, that perhaps---"

The borderline glare cut me off well before the cold tone. “This is your concern - knowing if they were involved?” She uttered a short tsk, gave me a slow shake of the head as she once more lifted her teacup, but she paused to say one last thing before drinking.

“Humans find such fascinating ways to waste their time.”

EARLIER THAT DAY

There were only two stops for our assignment. We came away from Dartmoor with nothing but ruined suit pants and shoes. Burt was annoyingly optimistic the entire time, while I was beginning to feel something akin to despair.

“Chin up!"

“Shut up.”

Our conversations had definitely devolved.

The present locale was more of a straight shot back to London, so that was something positive, likely getting us back expediently once we were done. However, the area of our forthcoming search was larger than that at Dartmoor. Much larger. 

A handful of local teenagers there were easily paid off - and they sold themselves short, should've charged a higher fee - to get us going in the right direction. They'd been monkeying around out in the moors since they were children, to their parents' chagrin, I'm sure.

Here, in Sedgemoor, it was another story - we weren't going to be getting much assistance in terms of a guide. The locals were beyond wary to speak with us, and I was thankful more than ever for Burt's ability to slip into a full accent and conversational slang because I didn't know how much more of a wild goose chase through peaty sludge I could stand. Had I been alone, their standoffishness would've resulted in a reaction from me that could've cost me my career. Quagmire, while apt, didn't quite cover it.

A few willing - slightly drunken - souls at the inn's pub gave us options for ideal places to kick off our trek. We were smarter now, replacing our typical garb with sensible slacks and boots, though Burt had adopted a more safari look than my own, complete with khaki Bermuda shorts and a hat that would’ve made Hemingway proud. The bright white knee socks made me cringe.  

I'd taken on the Sherpa role and my own personal, upright yak was bearing the burden of a large backpack filled with our testing gear and water and emergency supplies. It was good for him, he needed the physical exercise. As for mental exercise, I dearly wished for a scaling-back; he'd already started in on a new notebook back in Dartmoor, jotting almost constantly now, page after page filled with thoughts I didn't have the heart to discourage.

My partner-in-chaos had somehow convinced himself Nephilim were hiding in the moors.

We'd gotten off the train and to the inn later than I'd have liked the night prior, and despite downing four pints of stout brew while Burt worked his charms, I'd tossed and turned the entirety of the few hours we'd had to rest. Burt talked almost the entire time on the train, talked the ears off the people in the pub, talked in his sleep. And he showed no signs of stopping.

“Think about it, Jacky - we don't know how angels communicate, or if they can recognize each other on sight, at least, down here,” Burt was saying as we slogged along, mid-afternoon now, having set out at just past the crack of dawn.

I kept quiet. Down here. As if heavenly residents were above us.

“Can they possess any ol' body, like demons? Do they monitor the ones on earth somehow, with some sort of---"

"Concentrate," I interrupted him, extending a hand out to help get him over one of the less death-defying portions of a rhyne.

Once he was across and distracted with catching his breath, I pulled out the compass to check how we were faring.

"Not much further," I told him. "Ready?"

"Because what I keep going back to, is - are they keeping track of Nephilim? Are they even aware of exactly how many there are?" Burt went on, not acknowledging me.

I sighed as I put the compass back in my pocket, then kept walking, my pace keeping me several yards in front of him.

"You'd think so, you'd think they'd want to keep those powers under control. Wouldn't you? Jack? Wouldn't you think?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. The headache coming on was long overdue. I was desperately trying to keep my tone in check. "You mean God? That's what you mean, specifically - God himself or angels acting upon his orders, right?"

"Right."

"Then Burt, if I were God or a mighty archangel, and my minions were procreating against my wishes, no - I would not be keeping some sort of school attendance or sporting roster. I would snap my fingers and blow the disobedient to bits, but not before I did the same with their offspring."

I was scanning the moderate upwards slope we were coming upon that was absolutely blanketed in thick fog, wondering how our small flashlights were supposed to help us navigate through it, when I noticed the absence of sucking and sloshing behind me. I stopped and turned. Burt was standing stock still - and sinking slightly - staring at me with a dropped jaw. Then he made the sign of the cross, who could guess why, causing me to roll my eyes and huff.

"They would be God's children as much as the angels," Burt said softly.

Now my jaw dropped. "Did we read the same Old Testament growing up? I know you're a good Catholic boy and I was raised as Protestant as it gets, but I'm pretty sure the both of us, and a slew of other faiths, are square with the idea that God is vengeful---"

"Can be vengeful---"

"---no, he IS vengeful, and he doesn't tolerate disobedience. Not from any of us, angels included, or are you also forgetting the Morning Star's boot in the ass?"

We stared at each other for more than a few heavy moments, the only sound a fierce, whipping spurt of wind.

"They would be considered abominations," I finally said. "Pick a sacred text. Hell, it's even what the Apocrypha says. It's what our experts say. Why are you acting like it's the first time you... Damn it, Burt!"

"Those translations are debated!"

"You know, you're right - maybe they are just giants. Hey, think the Moles consider this drowned mess a leftover from the mother of all floods? We'll play archaeologists, carry back some oak-sized bones on the plane? No, wait - maybe we should be looking for a beanstalk!"

Burt frowned. "What if they're just fallen? What if they just need... deserve... some grace?"

"Do you not understand the concept of 'abomination'?"

"That's not what Sunder concluded."

"And what the hell do you know about Sunder? What do I really know about Sunder? She destroyed most of her work when she ran off---"

"Now who's throwing out wild theories?"

"It's not wild, it was in the original case reports---"

"So now we're trusting the Moles when they're saying nothing beyond what we saw was recovered, Jack? The very ones that were trying to force her into joining up? Threatening her daughter if she didn't?"

I narrowed my eyes. "They're real pieces of work, you know I'd be the first to say it. But there was nothing in the things we've seen that showed they were anything other than a bunch of chafed asses after a woman - who, by the way, was ten times smarter than their best lore gurus - had the gall to reject their precious invitation."

Minutes passed as Burt seemed to be involved in an internal debate with himself regarding what he was about to say in response.

"Have something to share?" I snapped.

"I know they did it because I asked Father... and two of Mother's older brothers."

I was floored. That Burt had asked, and that they had apparently given him answers, was a hefty breach of our protocols. Mixing family and Men of Letters business - even in legacies, even regarding business long gone stale - was a serious violation. For more than just him.

Burt could have been banned, any other active members of his family banned, and any living retirees would face a lengthy investigation, the punishment for any guilt unearthed, well... I chose not to think on it long. Instead I turned away and kept trudging towards the slope.

"They weren't directly involved," Burt said, and I heard him trying to pick up his pace to catch up with me. "But they saw things, heard others talking. And I believe them."

"You believe rumors."

He was undeterred. And he spilled his guts, every drop of what his family had relayed. How the Moles assigned to recruit Sunder took advantage of the fact that she'd been widowed. How they wanted to make her believe they could have her daughter taken away. That the Men of Letters were influential enough to make authorities think she was more than just an academic, that her recent work showed she was insane, unfit to care for a child.

"So how is that anything other than a threat?"

I stopped and turned again, almost colliding with Burt. "Are you -- are you actually trying to say you think the Moles tried to make her run? Just so they could hunt her, force her to be a member? Is that what you're driving at?" A bit of a glare was coming to his eyes, but I didn't stop. "Are you trying to get your whole family banned? Get me banned by telling me all this? You've put me in a position of deciding whether or not to report you!"

Burt was close to fuming, I could tell by the veins coming out in his neck and the new beads of sweat creeping from under his hat that were not from exertion. "No, I don't think they knew she'd run!"

"Then what?!"

"I think they figured out what we did, that she was getting information from angels - at least an angel, who knows if there were more, and for how long. Something must've gone wrong, and badly wrong, for her to run. And, yeah, she could've contacted the Moles. Sunder was nothing if not logical, she knew they wanted her, and she’d know we'd be her best hope if she got on the wrong side of the heavenly host."

Another fit of harsh wind, and it seemed to drag the line of fog closer.

“‘We'?! She's been out there playing with fire all this time, and to what end, we don’t know, which is the point. Yeah, that is what we should be working on, not whatever this garbage goose chase is, but we're not," I said, my jaw so tight my words were slipping out through clenched teeth. “This is our mission. We’re off the Sunder case, Burt! I’ve accepted it! Now get it through your thick skull!”

“Y-you.... you've accepted it?" Burt scoffed. "Tell me another one, Jacky. And while you're at it, make me believe you don't want to find her so we can help her."

So there it was. Burt's passion had nothing to do with finding her to assess the danger, and everything to do with keeping her - and if we were right, possibly her Nephilim daughter - safe. I was very close to punching him right in that chubby mug of his.

"Stop acting like you know Sunder! Stop acting like we can get into her mind. We can't - she's gone completely 'round the bend, whatever she's doing, and it's gonna get her killed. She's not going to be a problem for long - that is my theory. Case closed."

Burt and I stared at each other for who knows how long before he took a deep breath and tried again.

"I don't claim to be in her head. But she’s a mother---"

"Mother to a---"

"---and you don't have any children, Jack. You can't understand. We're God's children, sure, but the angels were his first, and their creation was purposeful, they were designed, they were planned, and you can't plan to create a life and not have love be part of it."

My ire crumbled right along with his face. I wanted to kick myself. Burt's wife had suffered so many miscarriages, I'd truthfully lost count. They'd finally gotten past a worrying point with her current pregnancy and it had only added to his geniality. Not presently, though, as I'd just single-handedly managed to crack his sweet spirit into pieces.

"Burt, I didn't mean to---"

And suddenly his expression went back to fierce determination as he demanded the truth in one simple question:

"What did you do that made them take the Sunder case away?”

Author's note: This is doubling as an entry to  @klaineaholic 's Challenge Celebration for reaching 400 Followers, because she provided such an excellent set of prompts from "Steven Universe" that I couldn't resist. My prompt was the quote "Humans find such fascinating ways to waste their time.”

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