#this would not have been a problem if more than one party member spoke the local language with any real fluency

[isaacathom]

last session i (me, all on me) made the choice to split the party because we needed to report a death but we also had an objective to complete. so i went, okay. the guy who can speak the language needs to go talk to the guards, but in case that goes poorly, I'll go with him. The other two will head off to the next objective and try and get a book off a kid.

and it was a solid plan. we reported the death, we headed for objective 3 (as a rendezvous, yknow), encountered some difficulty, and wait.

and it was then that we all sort of realised that the second group i had created, of the doctor and the rogue, is the group with 0 impulse control who had earlier that day sent a horse skidding 20m and sent themselves flying 30m in a real cockup cascade of a horse riding accident.

anyway the rogue broke into the house and ended up nearly getting stabbed by a 10 year old

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (38)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none (Due to the nature of the next chapter there will be no taglist. Please read bottom note for more info)

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz). YOU GUYS! Y'all my bad for missing Thursday's update! I live in the US so it was Thanksgiving for us and then the weekend was full of things. So I hope you can enjoy this update!

That night, the boys had taken it upon themselves to have their own small party in honor of starting the heist tomorrow. San had brought out some Moonshine they had saved, Wooyoung and Seonghwa made a good dinner. All of it was meant to keep the hopes up. A way of keeping them all happy before something that would take up all their energy. 

You, however, seemed to keep thinking back to the whole thing. It might have been something the boys were used to. In fact, it was probably a lot tamer than what they were used to, but you couldn’t help to think how wrong it felt. 

It wasn’t because you were going to feel bad about the entire thing–quite the opposite. Honestly, if Klein was doing something illegal with the money he was taking from the citizens, he deserved everything he had coming to him. Same thing with Quaid. The thing that left you bothered was the fact that you would be taking part in a heist. 

Had you learned that what you have planned had happened from someone in town, you would've said: Well, good. They deserve something like that. You’re not above thinking they weren’t criminals. Because they were in fact just that. If it was up to someone else, you would praise them for what they are going to do. 

But you grew up knowing the law, being told what was wrong and right. No matter how many times you would tell yourself that this was for the greater good, it still left a sour feeling in your gut. You could push someone for having taken a towel from the hotel and still feel bad about it. Only because you were told to be polite. Never steal. Never cheat. 

But there were greater evils out there than just someone taking a towel. And your boys were the ones who were stopping them. 

“You alright?” Hongjoong asked, coming to sit at your side. 

“What was your first heist like?” You asked, turning to face him. 

“A complete and utter uncoordinated mess.” Wooyoung cackled, moving to sit in front of you. 

He sat crossed leg, placing his cheek against your thigh as you sat on a log. The rest of the boys calmly walked over, some nursing a shot of moonshine. Seonghwa took the other side of the log next to you. Mingi sat on the floor in front, wrapping his arms around the leg Wooyoung wasn’t occupying. 

“That bad?” You snorted. 

“We got what we needed, but we weren't exactly stealthy with it.” Hongjoong explained. “Left a huge mess behind.” He rolled his eyes, looking over at some of the members who looked away, guilty. 

“But we still pulled through.” Yunho told you, coming up behind you to rest his head on top of yours. “Besides, it wasn't our problem after taking the horde. As long as the people were happy.” He shrugged. 

Thinking about all those stories they were able to tell you so far, each one ended in a happy ending–for both them and the poor people of the town they were in. You had yet to hear about a heist gone wrong. The only time you did was when they claimed Yeosang got captured by the Black Pirates. 

However, that was before they started doing what they do. Back when they were just teenagers, following everything their families would tell them. Nonetheless, it seemed that they had been doing heists after saving Yeosang from the Black Pirates. So they must have known what they were doing while being in Strickland. It left you to wonder how they had gotten discovered. 

“Why did you guys get caught in Strickland?” You spoke up. “That you had to leave.”

“We might have gotten used to being stealthy, but this was something out of our control.” Hongjoong sighed. “We just messed with the wrong documents that gave us away. However, we got what we needed. At least enough for us to move forward with plans of taking down Strickland.” He told you. 

It seemed to be the ultimate goal for all of them. Wanting to take down that compound. And you could understand why. Who wants to live in a world where no one has their own emotions? It might sound like a utopia to some, thinking that everyone would be equal, but who would want that? Who would want to lose their free will?

“Was it enough?” You asked. 

“More than enough.” Seonghwa answered softly. “At least for us.”

There was no guarantee that the government would allow Sciensalver to go through with their drug of creating emotionless people. Maybe they would be stopped before it got to a certain point. But what about the corrupts of the world? The ones who would see it as an opportunity to gain control over a lot of things. Something like that in the wrong hands would not go well. 

“It's normal to be nervous for your first heist.” San began to tell you. “If any of them tell you they weren't, that's a lie.” He grinned, giggling when some of the boys began to protest.

They started to bicker again, you watching in amusement as they seemed to let go of everything holding them back from tomorrow. They were so carefree. It was clear they had been doing those kinds of things for a long while. Even better when they knew how to work with another. 

“I don't know if it's nervous of things going wrong or just me doing something criminal like.” You admitted. 

“You'll get an adrenaline rush as you're going in. The thoughts of being a criminal will be far from your mind.” Yeosang rubbed at your shoulders, taking Yunho spot behind you. “Besides, when you leave the money at the doorsteps of people who need it, everything feels better.”

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[eddiemunsonw]

Hellfire Club

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your plan to pick up your cousin Dustin at his Hellfire Club meeting ends a little… differently.

OR

Eddie and you do the do

CW/Disclaimer: Smut. But kinda sweet and sorta funny smut.

Author's note: Enjoyyyyyyy. :)

Words: 3935

On your way into Hawkins High, you were met with the majority of students leaving it instead. Some guys gave you lingering looks as they checked out the “new girl” but to your relief no one approached you. It would be kind of awkward to tell them you had a few years on them and therefore no interest in the slightest. Dustin had told you how to get to the drama room where he was attending his “Hellfire Club” meeting and thanks to his clear instructions it wasn’t too hard to get there. Since you weren’t entirely sure how long they would take, you had brought along your sketchbook and assumed it would be no trouble to hang out there for the time being.

The room was dark as you entered, an atmosphere created by a faded orange, yellow hue that seemed to have been used to create a sunset type of feel. A couple of fake torches were lit and in the middle of the room stood a large, dark wooden table surrounded by wooden chairs that were currently occupied. At the head of the table was a throne and with one glance at the guy who had claimed that seat, you knew he was probably the Dungeon Master.

You didn’t know a ton about Dungeons & Dragons, but Dustin had taken it upon himself to tell you lots about it during the times you visited him and your aunt Claudia. Hence, it also wasn’t a secret to you that the guy with the unruly brown hair went by the name of Eddie Munson. His eyes were on you the moment you walked in, giving you a peculiar look that seemed to calculate what to do with you. One part seemed to want you gone, the other… wasn’t too sure. Without further ado you decided that the best way to not interrupt them was to simply sit down at the other side of the table opposite Eddie.

The frown on Eddie’s face deepened when you did and he cocked his head in confusion, eyes following your gaze towards Dustin. You had assumed that he would’ve told the guy that you would be “joining” the session. When Dustin was about to speak, Eddie was just a little quicker and you found him looking in your direction again.

“To what do we owe the honor of your presence, miss…?”

Dustin grabbed his second chance before you could answer.

“That’s Y/N, my cousin. She was uhm… picking me up.” A frown appeared on his face and it seemed as if there was more to that statement. However, Eddie wasted no time.

“Okay… can’t she wait somewhere else?” Eddie asked, his brow raised as he eyed Dustin with mild curiosity and a sliver of annoyance. Dustin was starting to get impatient as this time you spoke up before he could, again.

“Don’t worry, she can speak just fine.” You gave him a tight lipped smile as his face turned towards you, hair softly swaying with the motion. Eddie responded with a quick smile of his own that didn’t meet his eyes and he looked frankly quite uninterested in what you had to say.

“Actually…” Dustin started apologetically, glancing over at you, “I no longer need the ride.” At your subtle eyebrow raise he hastily continued. “I couldn’t reach you, I tried! I’m gonna go somewhere with Lucas later so… I don’t need the ride anymore.” he finished in one breath.

“Oh, alright. No problem.” You shrugged and grabbed your sketchbook, causing confusion to etch into the faces of all other party members as they looked at you expectantly.

“Y/N…?” Dustin tried hesitantly. A smile teased the corners of your lips as you heard the softest, impatient huff coming from the head of the table.

“Oh? Hope you don’t mind if I linger for a bit? Robin took my car because I assumed I’d be here for a while, which is why I’m earlier than we agreed upon actually. I don’t really feel like hanging around elsewhere in the school, and the weather isn’t exactly peachy today. Quite like the change of scenery here, actually.”

“Would be great if you could take your desire for nice scenery elsewhere, actually,” Eddie mumbled. “We’re having something serious going on here.”

Barely able to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, you sighed softly before addressing him.

“Relax, Munson. I won’t interrupt. Promise.”

From the looks of it Eddie wanted to retort, but when Dustin gave him a look he just rolled his eyes and for some reason, he relented. As if you weren’t there at all, he continued what he was saying before your arrival had interrupted him in the first place.

It was actually quite entertaining to listen to them playing the game. Mostly because of Eddie, really, with all the effort he put into various characters and the range of voices he had for them. You found yourself resting your pencil on the paper more often than not to glance up at him, only to find how often his eyes would look in your direction. You couldn’t help but smile and sometimes softly giggle along with the rest of the party whenever he did something funny. Whether it was intended or not. 

At some point however, you were thoroughly engrossed in your drawing when all of a sudden a ringed hand came into view, holding what you recalled as a d20.

“Blow on it, for good luck.”

You glanced upwards at Eddie who gave you an expression that you found hard to read at first. Suddenly, as his brows knit together the slightest fraction, you recognized it. A challenge. For whatever reason he needed proof that you weren’t ridiculing him behind your smiles and giggles. Not sure how you knew, but you just knew that that was what it was about, for some reason.

Your free hand cupped around his and you blew gently on the dice, looking upwards through your lashes to meet his eyes again.

“Like that?” you asked innocently, knowing exactly what you were doing. His eyes darkened a fraction when you licked your lips out of habit. You couldn’t help but smile when his eyes shifted away from you as he nodded, hand lingering in yours for just a touch longer.

“Yeah, just like that.”

And with that, the tone had changed. Your eyes met his over the table when he rolled eighteen, which was enough for what he had wanted to do apparently because he smiled. It wasn’t just a smile. Although hard to put into words, you knew you had played the cards he had given you just right.

Where the party hadn’t commented on his little good luck charm action, they did speak up when Eddie started describing a damsel in distress exactly like you. Your hair, eyes, even the color of your shirt was woven into the description. It wasn’t just those details that did it for them, though. It was how he continued to describe how effortlessly beautiful she was. A real head turner. All while stealing obvious glances at you as he went on to add details such as a necklace and rings. He had changed your watch into a bracelet.

As Eddie continued to add the mischievous sparkle in your or “their” eyes, Dustin interrupted him with a near whine that made it very clear he was feeling quite uncomfortable.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, but can we stop adding my cousin into the game? It gives me the heebie-jeebies.” Dustin begged.

Eddie cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes as he read Dustin’s expression carefully. He made a show of taking a sip of his mountain dew that he had poured into a chalice first and smirked.

“There are many people who go by that description, Henderson. Can’t help but gather my inspiration from the direct environment sometimes though. Would you rather have the damsel look like you?”

Dustin pouted as the rest of the party laughed and he scribbled something onto his paper. You were sure he wrote down to remind himself to never ask you for a favor again.

“Well?” Eddie pressed, a big grin on his face.

“... no.”

“Glad we agree.”

At the end of the session, Dustin was surprised you hadn’t left yet. You simply shrugged and said Robin must be taking longer. The kids left to make some copies of a poster they needed next Monday for their science project and then they would be off, heading into the weekend. You, however, hadn’t moved a muscle. Not even when Eddie had packed up about all of his stuff. He seemed a little more nervous, a little agitated now that it was just you two. His confidence had taken a subtle dip and you didn’t mind. You thought he looked cute with those slightly pink cheeks. He glanced over at you and you held his gaze, crossing your arms and noticed he mirrored you.

“What’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

Eddie nodded and rested his elbows on the table, cupping his hands to hold his face up. He looked a little worn out, which wouldn’t surprise you considering all the talking he had done. You sat forward as well, doing the same as you quirked a brow.

“I don’t know. I just— why’re you still here?” It genuinely seemed to confuse him. In all honesty, you weren’t sure why you were still there. 

“Have I overstayed my welcome? If I ever was? Welcome, that is.” you asked as you tilted your head a little. Eddie sighed and leaned back in his throne and you put your sketchbook away. As you leaned back in your chair, you noticed he was still staring at you.

“That’s not—” He pursed his lips together, trying to let his mind form words to deal with his mess of a brain which was currently working overtime. You watched as he straightened his back just as you did and picked up a dice in front of him. Eyes wandering all the way back to your end of the table, you noticed a dice nearby that probably belonged to either Eddie or another member of the party. As you picked it up, Eddie spoke.

“Are you copying me?”

You looked up and raised a brow at him, only to find he was already raising one at you. He clenched his fist around the dice just as you did. All not on purpose, really. It just happened.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, though a little voice in your head said that maybe you should start copying him on purpose. Just to see. So when he raked a hand through his hair, you did too. He rolled his eyes, so did you. A subtle laugh escaped his lips in disbelief, and you shook your head simultaneously after.

“So you are.”

“So you are.”

“Ah, speech too?”

“Ah, speech too?”

Neither of you made a move to leave the drama room, although that had been Eddie’s intention. He had no desire to linger in this room with you, someone who did things to his brain and the rest of his body. As much as his rational side wanted to get out of here, though, the desire to stay was much stronger. He licked his lips, pleased to see you doing the same although it sent shivers down his spine immediately. He tapped his nose with his finger and so did you. Both of you smiled.

“Interesting,” you both mused. Eddie started to like the game. Grabbed onto the back of his throne so his shirt tightened against his chest and rode up a little. His satisfied smirk made you roll your eyes when you copied him. Apart from blinking, your eyes never left each other. His hands traveled over the table graciously before grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking it gently. The grimace on your face made him giggle.

“What are we doing?” Eddie asked softly as he grasped at his shoulder with his hand, gently trailing it down towards his chest. His cheeks were flushed, anticipation in his eyes as he followed your hand. He licked his lips subconsciously and felt the need to shift in his seat.

“I don’t know,” you responded honestly. You just knew that you didn’t want this to end. Your hand grazed your bra through the fabric as he dared to move lower, making you almost cup your breast. It wasn’t until he made a squeezing motion that you protested.

“Not exactly fair, is it?” you mumbled, though you did in fact squeeze your boob as many times as he squeezed the empty air in front of his chest.

“That I don’t have boobs to squeeze? Very unfair,” Eddie agreed. He grinned boyishly as your eyes traveled to the back of their sockets again. “Any more eye rolling and they’ll stick there permanently.”

“I’d stop if you’d stop squeezing air, maybe.” Squeezing your breast in front of a guy you had met on the same day in a setting like this wasn’t exactly on your bucket list. Had you known it would get you this hot, you might have jotted it down on paper.

“Alright,” Eddie said lightly, adding a second hand now to rub up and down his chest. When he made a show of rubbing his thumbs over his nipples, which you were surprised to see poking through his club t-shirt, the softest noise escaped his lips. You smirked as he looked a little panicked, clearly not intending to let it out. Just as he wanted to move away from his chest to save himself the embarrassment, you let out a gentle hum of your own.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered, his eyes darkening. You briefly wondered how high the chances of anyone coming in unexpectedly were. Hopefully Eddie knew. He rubbed his chest more vigorously, his thumbs grazing his nipples, wishing for the movements to release more sounds out of you. He no longer cared as much for the noises he made himself, as his focus was on you. The soft hums, soft moans. It was at that moment that he dared to move his hand down to palm himself through his pants. Eyes blown out with lust watched your hand travel down as well.

“You touching yourself?” he asked softly, his other hand squeezing his peck through his shirt.

“Depends… are you? I’m copying you after all, like you said. All I can see is that you moved your hand down in your lap.”

A low chuckle rumbled up in his chest and he nodded.

“I am. Though… can’t exactly copy me there, now can you?”

“Not exactly, no. But we worked it out for our chests too, didn’t we?”

Eddie nodded, a groan escaping his lips as he let his thumb find the head of his cock but realizing once again that these aesthetically tight jeans were very inconvenient at times like these.

“Mhm. So. Are you?”

Your hand cupped your mound through your jeans, which didn’t really do much for you, but you nodded nonetheless. For a moment, all you did was stare at each other as you silently dealt with the lack of feeling through both of your jeans.

“Fuck it,” Eddie mumbled, reaching down with his other hand as well to unbuckle his belt and shove his hand down his pants. It took some willpower to not immediately dive into his boxers as well.

“Get inside your jeans,” he ordered, his voice low.

“How do we ask nicely?” you teased. Eddie moaned softly as he ran his thumb over the wet spot of his boxers where the head strained against it and smirked.

“Jus’ wanna make sure you feel good baby.”

“Hm. Fair enough,” you shrugged, as if you weren’t dying to shove your hand down your pants at this point. Once your fingers grazed across the front of your panties, a whimper escaped you. Shit. You were wetter than you expected and couldn’t help but blush at the realization.

“You make such pretty sounds,” Eddie commented softly before adding a moan of his own to the mix. “Kinda wanna… find out what sounds you’d make for me.”

“Hmm… what would you like to do to me?” you asked, your voice spreading like silk over the table before it reached his ears. Eddie bit down on his lip and sighed slowly.

“So many things, sweetheart. But… I’d taste you first. Go down on you and make you roll your eyes back for good reason.”

“Sounds confident.”

“‘Cause it’s a promise.”

Your eyes met again and you mirrored his expression without trying. His mouth stood agape, brows knit together as he felt himself, hand wrapped lightly around his length determined to drag it out as long as he could. You were playing with your clit, alternating it with sliding down your lips to spread your wetness all around. Moans came easier now, mingled with each other. Everything outside of you and the table separating you both seemed to disappear as you continued to stimulate yourselves.

Without removing his hand, Eddie got up out of his chair and rounded the table. You met him halfway. His free hand grabbed the back of your neck to pull you in for a bruising kiss, layered with lust and need. Your tongues danced together in a battle for dominance while he replaced the hand in your pants with his own. His fingers found your sensitive spots effortlessly, thumb working your clit as he pumped his fingers inside. He nudged down your jeans until they were halfway down your thighs and you did the same to him along with his boxers and wrapped your hand around his cock. He buckled inside your hand and a sweet whine escaped him as he desperately started to move.

You tried to drown your moans into your kisses but he moved away to nip at your neck instead.

“Wanna hear you baby,” he murmured against your neck, licking along the side while leaving soft nibbles in between. You threw your head back and moaned, louder than anticipated and when you whispered something along the lines of “oh shit”, he chuckled.

“You’re so cute. So cute and pretty. When you blew on those dice— fuck.”

“Yeah what was that about, huh?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips until they formed an “O” when Eddie started rubbing your clit faster.

“Just needed some luck.”

“Still feeling lucky?” you asked, leaning back to meet his eyes. You jerked him off faster and judging how much effort went into responding to you, you knew he was close.

“Y-Yeah, I think so, why?” he asked as he tried to still his hips.

“Fuck me.”

Eddie grinned darkly and smashed his lips onto yours.

“Fuck yes.”

In one swift move he pushed any lingering clutter off the table and lifted you up on it, pushing you down with his body so you would lay down. He removed your jeans and panties and spread your legs as he kneeled down before you.

“Need a taste.”

With the flat of his tongue he licked a long stripe upwards, moaning against your cunt as he lapped up the juices that his fingers had spread around. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently before circling around it with his tongue. Your hand tugged on his hair not so gently and the vibration of his moans sent your juices flowing. Before he could get lost in eating you out, you pulled him back up by his hair.

“C’mon Eddie, please.”

“Pretty girl needs me so bad, huh?” he cooed teasingly. You slapped his arm affectionately and he grinned.

“As if your cock isn’t quivering at the mere thought of getting some. You can make me roll my eyes back for good reason some other time.”

“That a promise?” Eddie asked, a little too honest and a little less confident with the way he cupped your cheek and gazed down at you with his pretty brown eyes.

“Mhm, if you’re good.”

Eddie smiled and fished out his wallet and swiftly wrapped a condom around himself. He leaned down, kissing you a little sweeter than he had before and you felt the head nudging your opening. As his tongue licked into your mouth, he bottomed out inside you and you gasped pleasantly. Where it had started with a burning fire surging inside you both, currently it felt like the urgency had gone. There was no rush, yet enough desire and as soon as Eddie picked up the pace, your moans filled the echoing room again.

“That’s it baby, that’s it. Fuck you feel so good. Jesus H. you’re— oh shit.”

You grasped at his back, nails digging into his skin as your hands were buried under his t-shirt. Eddie’s hands were on your hips, pushing you back onto his cock with each thrust as his lips sloppily kissed yours to drown out the loudest moans.

“‘M close, you close?” he grunted, watching in satisfaction as you nodded, words no longer coming to you in favor of your sweet moans. He nodded in understanding, kissing your cheek quickly before pounding into you harder. You were both so lost in each other that you didn’t notice the door opening.

“Hey Y/N, your car is in the parking lot so— Jesus CHRIST! NO. NO! What?! I knew it, I knew it. Gross. You’re gross! I can’t believe— with my cousin, Eddie? With Eddie of all people, Y/N?! This is too much too—”

Eddie scrambled you up against him, trying to shield your exposed parts as well as he could when he looked over your shoulder at Dustin in horror. It all happened so quickly that by the time you looked over your shoulder, you could already see the door closing again as Dustin fled.

“Oh shit. I should— I have to— He’s gonna be so upset—” you stammered, wanting to move but staying still as you still very much had Eddie’s cock buried deep inside you. Eddie shook his head, nipping at your neck with needy kisses.

“He’ll still be consolable later, I won’t be though if we stop right now. Please.”

“Eddie.”

“Baby, sweetheart. Please,” he pleaded. “I really wanna,” he moved out halfway and thrusted back in slowly, “...make you feel so good.”

You bit down a smile and kissed him eagerly as he picked up his pace again, gently letting you back down so he could use both his hands to grab your hips. It didn’t take long before you both reached your highs, his hips stuttering as your walls clenched around him, desperate moans meeting desperate kisses. You rode out your orgasms until he pulled you back up in a hug, smoothing his hands over your back as the table wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing to lay down upon, he remembered from a solo session.

“So… will you be joining again next week baby?” he murmured against your cheek, leaving a kiss with his words.

“I don’t think I’ll be allowed in here after traumatizing Dustin like that,” you smirked.

“Lucky for us I’m the Dungeon Master,” he quipped with a grin that matched yours. His hand lovingly cupped your cheek to steal a kiss from your lips. You hummed in thought.

“How about… you take me to dinner after the meeting and we find a place more uhm, comfortable and a little more private?”

Eddie smiled and gave you a nod.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Leave a heart or even better, reblog if you liked this! It helps me a lot getting more exposure and therefore more people to read it. :)

This fic can also be found on my ao3!

[mariacallous]

The French Revolution may have been one of the world’s first experiments in mass democracy, but those governing France have long had a problem with the idea.

Throughout the 19th century, successive rulers tried to curtail democratic rights or did away with them altogether. Even the advent of universal male suffrage in 1848 did little to inflect this skepticism. A large swath of the governing classes mistrusted the masses and the elections that gave them a voice. (And most of those in power also agreed that women should not be given the vote; they were only enfranchised in 1945.)

The catastrophic defeat of 1940 at the hands of the Germans and France’s experience of authoritarian rule under Marshal Philippe Pétain ensured that, after the liberation of France in 1944, most anti-democratic voices were silenced. But French politicians did not suddenly embrace the democratic process.

On the contrary, the reconstruction of the country after the war was led by unelected technocrats, and when Charles de Gaulle returned to power in 1958, he changed the constitution to ensure that the democratic urges of the French were firmly kept in check. His new constitutional settlement—known as the Fifth Republic—bypassed parliament by creating one of the most powerful directly elected executives in the world. It also instituted a two-round electoral system that was designed to allow voters to express their frustration in the first round before making a “sensible” choice in the subsequent runoff.

As for the French themselves, they have long been aware of the various attempts to keep their political urges at bay. That is why the power of protest and the fear of the angry mob have been powerful driving forces in French politics. Even today, every minister knows that their days are numbered if the street turns against them, regardless of the result of the previous election.

With all of this historical baggage, it is not hard to see why almost everyone was completely taken aback by President Emmanuel Macron’s unexpected announcement on June 9 that he would be dissolving parliament. Only an hour before, the first estimations of the results of the European Parliament elections had been released. There was little in the way of suspense: Opinion polls had predicted for months that the far-right National Rally party would do very well. In the moments before Macron spoke, people were more likely to be worried about finishing their washing-up than the composition of the European Parliament.

But Macron had other ideas. His decision to call an election flew in the face of two centuries of French political history. Every single one of his predecessors would have told him the same thing: When the chips are down, the very last thing you do is ask the French people to decide. They will punish you—not simply because they don’t like you, but also because you had the temerity to ask them what they think.

How, then, can we explain such a momentous and uncharacteristic decision?

In the days since Macron’s announcement, even the most experienced political journalists have struggled to answer this question. It appears that there was a special group of advisors working on the possibility of dissolving parliament. There were also members of Macron’s coalition who were recommending this course of action—especially a cluster of right-wing senators, whose mandate is not dependent on the outcome of direct elections.

But this is hardly an adequate explanation. Presidents always have teams whose job it is to game different political scenarios, and they also have to deal with incessant lobbying from their allies. If we want to understand Macron’s logic then we need to probe deeper into his worldview and his vision of French politics.

We might start with the historical precedents that exist for Macron’s dissolution of parliament. There have been only three preemptive dissolutions of the parliament under the Fifth Republic: In 1962, de Gaulle needed parliamentary support for his decision to create the directly elected presidency. In 1968, he sought a new mandate in the wake of the huge student and worker protests that had taken place in the spring. And in 1997, Chirac hoped to confirm his success in the presidential elections of 1995 by renewing the right-wing majority in parliament.

It is clear which of these precedents is in Macron’s mind. In 1962 and 1968, de Gaulle’s party was massively reelected, and he came away with renewed legitimacy for his policies. In 1997, by contrast, Chirac was severely punished. The left gained more than 200 seats and formed the majority in parliament until 2002. Given how much more fragmented French politics is in 2024—and given the collapse in party discipline since the 1990s—the dissolution of 1997 seems to be a far more accurate guide to what might happen in a few weeks’ time.

Of course, Macron knows his political history; he knows the risks. He might believe that he has the charisma and stature of de Gaulle, but he will be aware that the general himself was punished by the popular vote. When de Gaulle called a referendum on decentralization only a year after his spectacular success in the 1968 parliamentary election, he told the French that he would resign if he lost. And he still lost.

Even the most formidable French leader of the 20th century was ejected from power by a dissatisfied electorate. What makes Macron think he can do better?

The only credible answer, it seems to me, is that he has belatedly embraced the power of chaos. After telling the French incessantly since his first victory in 2017 that he is the guarantor of stability and the only bulwark against the political extremes in France and Europe, he has decided that his goals can be most successfully achieved by utterly destroying the existing system of political parties and coalition.

Already in the past few days, profound realignments have taken place on the left and right of the political spectrum. It is not impossible that the French center right—the political heirs of Gaullism—will all but disappear. On the left, the real fear of a far-right government has forced entirely incompatible politicians, from Trotskyists to centrist social democrats, into an ad hoc alliance. In the best-case scenario, Macron emerges from this turmoil as the only credible figure of government, like a revolutionary leader left standing after a purge.

But the risks of unleashing chaos are huge. Macron could lose his parliamentary power and his party. He could suffer a crushing defeat at the hands of an angry electorate. Most of all, he could permanently tarnish his legacy by being the first French president to swear in a far-right prime minister who is supported by a far-right majority in parliament. The symbolism of this would be almost as powerful as the notorious picture of Pétain shaking hands with Hitler in 1940.

Many people have compared Macron’s gamble to former Prime Minister David Cameron’s decision to call a referendum on the United Kingdom’s membership of the European Union in 2016. But Cameron was naive: He was told he would win, and he had not drawn any lessons from the near-miss of the referendum on Scottish independence in 2014.

Macron is not naive; he understands exactly what he has done. He may, in time, be vindicated. But if he fails, he alone will bear the responsibility for tearing France apart.

[dreamescapeswriting]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗼𝘆𝘀 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗝𝗶𝗻 𝗗𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - september 2022

⤜MASTERLIST

You anxiously played with your fingers and Jin smiled, linking his hand with yours and giving it a small and encouraging squeeze to let you know everything was going to be okay. The two of you were finally going to take the time to meet the boys and it was safe to say that you were beyond nervous about all of it. You were far younger than Jin since there were seven years between you both and you weren't sure how accepting the boys were going to be about all of this. Even as you stood in the dorm's living room facing them all it didn’t make any of this nicer for you, what if they hated you? What if they didn’t think you were good enough? 

As if reading your mind, Jin gave you a kiss on the top of your head before introducing you. You weren’t a stranger to any of the boys by any means but this was introducing you as someone important in Jin’s life. Before you were just someone who worked in the HYBE building and now you were Jin’s girlfriend.

"Guys, this is Yn...She's my girlfriend." Jin said, giving your hand another squeeze and looked at each of the boys waiting for their reaction.

YOONGI:

Yoongi stared over at you both, his eyes dancing between your interlocked hands and your face as he could easily read how nervous you were about standing in front of them, 

"Yn, you want to come and sit down? He's got you standing up there like you're some attraction at a zoo." Yoongi teases, making space for you on the sofa between him and Hoseok and you swallow the lump in your throat, walking over to them and taking a seat trying to calm down your racing heart. 

"Don't worry about it too much, we love that you make him happy...Isn't that the main thing?" Yoongi questions, eyeing up all of the boys who seemed to be holding back their own thoughts. But Yoongi adored it, he loved the idea of Jin dating someone younger than him, after all, it was only seven years and there were plenty of other couples in the world that had a larger age difference between the two of them.

HOSEOK:

"I think it's great!" Hoseok cheered out happily, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he let out a small and happy chuckle. The two of you had always been quite close at work and knowing that he now got to see you more often he was even happier about it. 

"You can help us all tease Jin more," Hoseok smirks, gently nudging your sides as you nod in agreement with him. 

"And you guys can help me plan surprise parties for him," You smirked as Jin groaned and shook his head at you all, slightly regretting his idea to introduce you to each of the members all at once. He should have done it one at a time and had rules for them to play by.

NAMJOON:

Namjoon was suspicious about the entire thing from the start of this relationship but he'd never voice the concerns in front of you he'd only ever told them to Jin.

"Joonie?" Jin asked coldly, noticing that Namjoon was being quiet about the whole thing while the other seemed to be welcoming you with open arms.

"You already know my concerns," Namjoon said plainly and it felt as though an arrow had been shot through your chest. Jin had told you Namjoon was apprehensive about the whole thing as he didn't want this to course problems for the rest of them. The one thing that worried Namjoon was a news agency spinning a story that Jin only liked to date younger women which just wasn't true in the slightest but as the leader, Namjoon was always trying to look out for his members.

"If that comes along we will handle it," Jin said as he smiled over at you, he didn't want you to think that the boys were accepting of you when they were. 

"I would never do something to hurt or turn people against him." You spoke out which made Namjoon smile over at you, it was never you that he had the issue with. 

"I know, I just worry about him," Namjoon smiles before doing his best to make you feel welcome.

JIMIN:

"I knew it!" Jimin screamed out suddenly making you jump a little before Jin laughed, Jimin then collected some money from Taehyung and Jungkook. 

"What did you guys bet on? That we were together?" You questioned as Jimin nodded, counting his money as he looked rather proud of himself. 

"I bet that the two of you were secretly dating," He told you happily before Jungkook and Taehyung told you that they had bet the two of you were nothing more than friends.

"How long have you guys been seeing each other?" Jimin asked, raising his eyebrow while the others yelled at you not to tell him since he also had a bet on that too. The whole thing made you smile as you thought the two of you had been pretty secretive about it at first.

TAEHYUNG:

Taehyung smiled at you after giving his money over to Jimin,

"I thought the two of you were just really close, I was actually jealous about how close the two of you were," He admitted before a blush began to play on his cheeks and he flushed a little.

"We can be close if you want though," You suggested before Jin protectively - and possessively - wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into him. 

"Not as close as us," He mumbled while looking at you and whining, he didn't want you to be as close with Taehyung as you and he were. 

"Of course not, baby," You cooed, kissing Jin's cheek making everyone smirk and beginning to tease Jin for being so whipped on you.

JUNGKOOK: 

Jungkook absolutely adored it, he got to have someone that was closer to his age and someone he could hang out with and someone he could have on his side to tease Jin whenever the time came for it. 

"Does that mean we can hang out more?" Jungkook asks as you look at him and slowly start to nod your head. 

"Sure,"

"Hey, no. Yn's my girlfriend, I'll be the one that gets to hang out with her." Jin said with a small pout playing on his lips but Jungkook just smirked as you shook your head. 

"No way, I get to hang out with Jungkook. He can be my next best friend."

Tagline: @millenniumspec @chiisaiblog @rjdy-367 @tinyoonsblog @sw33tnight @taestannie @cherrybubblesandvodka @army24--7 @acciocriativity @mitzwinchester @heyjiminnie @kimahnjung98 @halesandy @jin-from-the-block @aerastus @namjooningelsewhere @ratherbfangirling @psychosupernatural @afternoonteabiscuit @lyoongx @periandernyx @heeseunger24 @laylasbunbunny @royallyjjk​ @critssq​ 

[legally-lupin]

Slug Club Christmas Party- Draco Malfoy x reader

Summary: you don’t know why you did it.

Warnings: slight swearing

Words:1k

You strutted down the halls in a black silk dress that hugged your curves. Your heels clacked against the old floors as you passed through the moderately empty hallways. You were attending the slug club party as you are a member of the slug club as well as Harry and Hermione.

When you entered the room you gave a small smile to Neville who offered you a drink.

“Champagne?” Neville offered you a glass and you gave your fellow Gryffindor classmate a smile before walking towards Hermione. The girl saw y/n from behind Cormac’s shoulder she smiled in relief and walked towards her friend. The two girls hugged before being joined by Harry. The three went behind a curtain when Hermione was patting herself with a napkin.

“Thank Merlin you got me out of that” Hermione breathed patting her forehead

“what’s happened to you?”Harry looked at his friend

“Hm? Oh, I’ve just escaped -- I mean, left Cormac. Under the mistletoe.”

You gasped at your friend who smiled sheepishly.

“Cormac! That’s who you invited!” Harry spat

“I thought it would annoy Ron most.But he’s a menace. He’s got more tentacles than a Snarfalump plant.” Y/n snorted at her friends joke before she was then frightened by a waiter peeking in with a tray in hand.

“Dragon Tartar?”

“No thank you,” The three said

“Just as well. They give one horribly bad breath.”

Hermione grabbed the tray from the waiter and started stuffing her face.

“On second thought -- maybe it’ll keep Cormac at bay. Oh no, here he comes!”

Hermione pops two of the Dragon blobs into her mouth, shoves the tray in Harry’s hands and flees away from her friends. Y/n looked at Harry who was just as confused. Cormac peered in.

“I think she went to powder her nose,” Harry said looking around

“Slippery little minx, your friend. Likes to work her mouth too, doesn’t she? Yak yak yak. What is this I’m eating, by the way?” Cormac says with his mouth full y/n looks at him in disgust

“Dragon balls,” the two said

Cormac’s face drops , y/n smiled as she and Harry start to head out. They both jumped to see Snape ripped the curtain away.

“What’s going on back here?” Snape spoke looking at the three Cormac started heaving and threw up all over Snape’s shoes. Oh no.

Snape stares at Cormac darkly. Y/n tries to slowly escape pulling Harry with her.

“You’ve just bought yourself a month’s detention, McLaggen.Not so quick Potter, Y/n you may go” you shot a good luck smile to Harry and darted off. You found a seat next to Blaise who looked bored out of his mind and started talking to him. He wasn’t all bad Blaise. He’s nothing like the others he’s quiet and is surprisingly not mean. Then all of a sudden the air shifted and everyone in the room was silent. Voices were heard outside the door and they charge in.

“Take your hands off me, you filthy squib!” A voice angrily huffed in bursts filch and Draco Malfoy. Everyone goes towards the commotion. Draco Malfoy was in filch’s rough grip.

“Professor Slughorn, sir! I’ve just discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party.” Filch spoke Draco moved clearly humiliated in filch’s grip.

“Okay, okay, I was gate-crashing. Happy?” The blonde hair boy confessed before you stepped in before Snape could. You had no idea what you were doing.

“Draco! I thought you were not going to come I waited outside for you for ages.” You looked at him pretending to be angry

“Sorry professor Slughorn. Draco is my plus one. He is not gate crashing. Just a little late” you linked your arm with his and filch let him go. Slughorn smiled

“Ah, no problem miss l/n! ok everyone back to it” the music resumed and you smiled sheepishly at the taller Slytherin boy. He looked down at you with furrowed brows

“What was that about?” The boy spat dragging you to a corner you can see Harry staring daggers at Malfoy.

“What I helped you-

“I didn’t ask for your help” Draco huffed looking around

“Now I’m stuck here-

“Listen all I did was save your ungrateful arse from getting detention. You can leave if you want to I’m not going to force you to stay” you huffed crossing your arms over your chest and slumped down in your chair. Draco looked at you seeing how upset he made you. he placed a hand on your shoulder smiling slightly

“Look I’m sorry ok I’m not used to anyone helping me. I do appreciate it. thank you y/n” you squinted trying to see if he was lying but he looked genuine

“How can I make it up to you?” He grabbed your hand making you look up

“By not being an arse and enjoying the night” with that Draco pulled you up and you both started to dance with the others.

“Listen y/n I am so sorry,” Draco said as he pulled you in closer your head on his chest. All of a sudden his heart started beating fast and he started to shift nervously you looked up in worry

“Draco-“ he interrupted you

“Go on a date with me. To Hogsmeade this weekend?” His blonde hair fell in front of his face and he had a pink tint all over his cheek he was nervous

“Will you buy me fudge flies?” You ask batting your lashes he chuckled and spins you around

“Yes”

“Then yes I will Draco” he smiled proudly

Later on:

He walked with you to your common room. Harry and Hermione trailing in-front of you still close enough to hear you.

“Go on guys I’ll meet you there” they reluctantly walked into the painting leaving you alone.

“So,” you said rocking back and forth on your feet

“It’s been a really good night. And I’m so sorry for being such an arse to you. You look stunning by the way” you blushed at his words. He conjured a bouquet of flowers and gave them to you.

“Goodnight y/n” he placed a kiss on your hand you giggled slightly

“Goodnight Draco”

[thewingedbaron]

Waterfall

A little Tav x Shadowheart as a treat :)

SPOILERS FOR SHADOWHEART'S ROMANCE BELOW.

Tav stalked cautiously up the path, her ears humming with the sounds of the night. Every step brought with it a sense of exhaustion. Despite her careful steps, she felt as if she were dragging herself up the rocky incline, blundering to and fro until the gravel underfoot threw her uncertain steps out from under her. It had been a long day, terribly long, as she had spent most of it stalking from shadow to shadow, gathering as much information on the goblin’s camp as she could. 

From a distance, one wouldn’t have even known that the marauding band of goblins were preparing for a raid. Word had it that the remaining supplies, stolen from the tiefling band and some other unfortunate caravan, were being prepped for a great feast. A multi day party for the lower members of the band while their leaders plotted their next move against the well fortified druid grove. Best that she could determine from what little whispers she had gathered, these leaders were more of the “True Souls”, like the cultists her party had encountered on the road a few days earlier. There were three of them, best Tav could tell. 

The goblins spoke of a priestess of the Absolute with some kind of holy reverence, as if she could hear their every word. They also spoke of a hobgoblin, a fearsome warchief spearheading the attack on the grove. Finally, the darkest whispers were of a drow, the mastermind of the operation. What little the goblins spoke of her was often whispered in the deepest shadows, and her name was always accompanied by nervous glances over the shoulder, as if the drow would materialize behind them like some kind of wraith. Minthara, they called her. 

Yet for all the goblin’s talk, there was no mention of the druid Halsin. 

Tav pinched the bridge of her nose, forcing herself back to the present. Those are tomorrow’s problems, she reminded herself. There are still others to attend to tonight. 

Shortly after they had returned to camp, Tav had found herself cornered by Shadowheart. They had hardly spoken save for a few comments here or there since Tav’s misstep the night before, but when she approached, Shadowheart had asked Tav to meet her outside of camp tonight, after the others had gone to sleep. In the moment, Tav had eagerly accepted, seizing the chance to repair the rift between them. But as she climbed the narrow animal path, following the whisper of Shadowheart’s footprints on the soft rock Tav’s stomach clenched with unease. 

“Settle yourself,” Tav hissed. “You’ve faced wolf packs with more confidence than this. Mielikki save me, it’s a conversation, Tav.” 

Yet her own words rang hollow in her mind. She would have gladly faced a dozen wolf packs with night but her crossbow and dagger at her side than try to untangle her confused feelings regarding the dark haired cleric. People… people were so much more confusing. None so much as Shadowheart. A wolf did not hide its intentions when its hackles raised and teeth barred. But some people would smile as they drove a knife between your ribs. Surely Shadowheart did not intend… no. 

Tav sighed, failing to dismiss the maelstrom of emotions that clouded her mind. Better to just get there. She thought. The only way out is forward. 

Tav tilted her head as a new sound reached her ears. The merry roar of a waterfall. Whatever Shadowheart wanted to discuss, she had picked a wonderful spot for it. 

* * *

“Tav! Care to join me?” Shadowheart sat on a large, flat rock beside the crest of the waterfall. Beyond her, the water pooled at the top of the fall, as if waiting its turn to be cast from the rocks into the twisting creek beyond. The water glowed with silvery moonlight, casting its rays back up from the water, giving Shadowheart an almost otherworldly glow. Or, perhaps that was just Tav’s imagination working overtime as she dropped onto the rocks next to the half-elf. Tav was grateful for Shadowheart turning aside to retrieve a half empty wine bottle so she wouldn’t see the dark flush to Tav’s cheeks. 

“A drink for our hero?” Shadowheart asked, producing two silver goblets. Her lips pursed as she poured a measure of wine into each. Tav tried her best not to stare at them as she accepted her glass. 

“Hero?” She asked, eyebrow cocked as she swirled the wine in her glass. 

“But of course,” Shadowheart smiled. Something stirred in Tav’s chest. “I would have been dead half a dozen times today, were it not for your crossbow. Though I think I more than evened things against that bugbear and the ogre.” 

“I didn’t realize we were keeping score.” Tav replied, flushing a shade deeper. 

“We really shouldn’t. Afterall, I would hate to leave you so far behind.” The cleric’s lips lifted into a light smirk. “A toast then. What should we drink to?” 

“To us.” Tav grinned. 

“To us.” The goblets made the most wonderful clink as they taped together. The wine tasted of sweet berries with a hint of vinegar. 

“Tell me something about you, Tav.” The tiefling nearly spit out here wine as Shadowheart smiled at her. “I don’t want to hear about goblins, or tadpoles, or near death experiences. Tell me something about you.” 

Tav grinned sheepishly, a sudden touch of anxiety sent a shiver down her spine. “What would you like to know?” 

“Anything.” 

“Alright,” Tav cocked her head, thinking for a moment while she tried to ignore the burning sensation of Shadowheart’s eyes on her face. “When I was a child, there was this little bakery on the corner of the street. Madam Poppet’s, or something of the like. She was a nasty old witch, always screaming at us kids for lounging about in the street. So, in the early mornings, I would scale the side of her shop and steal the pastries she left to cool in the window. I got pretty good at hiding just from her chasing me down the street with at wretched ladle of hers.” Tav grinned as she touched the back of her head where the wooden ladle had fallen so many times before. “She used to call me a devil blooded child, tried to report me to the fist a few times, but they could never find me.” 

Shadowheart’s giggle lit a spark in Tav’s chest. It was an unexpected sound from the Lady of Shar. High pitched, lighthearted, freeing. It was wonderful. 

“Alright, your turn.” Tav said quickly, concealing the blush to her cheeks with a deep draft of wine. 

“I’m not sure how interesting I could be.” Shadowheart replied, “I told you already that I do not remember much.” 

“Surely there must be something that you remember.” 

Shadowheart pursed her lips as she thought. She’s definitely doing that on purpose. Tav was glad their tadpoles seemed inert for the moment, preventing them from slipping into each other’s minds. 

“I love night orchids.” the half-elf’s eyes widened slightly, as if she were remembering the memory as she spoke it. “And…”

“And?”

“You mustn’t laugh.” 

“I won’t” 

“Swear it.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Tav replied, crossing her heart with a finger. 

“Very well.” Shadowheart took another draft of wine, as if to steel herself. “I can’t swim.” 

“You can’t?” 

“Is that so surprising, oh mistress of the woods?” Shadowheart demanded, eyebrow cocked. Were it not for the silvery moonlight, Tav would have sworn the half-elf’s face was beat red. Her eyes dared Tav to say something about it. The effort was ruined but a moment later when they both broke down into laughter. It was a good belly aching laugh. For the first time and days, something in Tav’s chest unraveled, as if all the tension she had been carrying within herself had suddenly popped and released. Tears streamed down both of their faces as they feel, side by side, onto the cool stone. From there, they laughed at the stars. 

They stayed by the waterfall for the rest of the night, drinking and talking about every topic that didn’t have to do with goblins, or tadpoles, or mindflayers. 

“Its nearly light, the others will be up soon.” Shadowheart whispered long before Tav was ready to hear the words. But, when she opened her eyes, she saw it was true. A soft blue had crept over the horizon, the first light of dawn had begun to take the sky. 

“Surely they can wait a little longer.” Tav glanced at her companion, surprised as her gaze met Shadowheart’s.

“Is that so?” A ghost of a smile touched the cleric’s lips. “Thank you for this. For last night.” 

“You’re welcome.” Tav returned the soft smile. “I hope there are many more to come.” 

“Me too…” Tav could have sworn she saw something pass through Shadowheart’s eyes. Anxiety? Sadness? Regret? Desire? She kicked herself. The cleric remained as unreadable as the night sky above. A flood of anxiety washed over Tav as her heart began to pound. No time like the present. 

“If you want something, Shadowheart, take it.” Tav breathed. 

Shadowheart’s lips pursed. Then, she smiled as she shifted to fully face Tav. Tav could feel Shadowheart’s breath on her face. She could smell her perfume. Their foreheads were nearly touching as Shadowheart murmured. “I think… I just might.” 

Her lips tasted sweeter than any berry Tav had ever known.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

To Hell and Back | Prologue

Masterlist Next Chapter

Synopsis: The Agency was a task force set up to fight against the evil in the world and to protect its citizens from harm. But evil has a way of always coming back. Agent Mitchell and his team of elite agents have been fighting against Iceman’s criminal activities for years but when a member of their team is brutally murdered and the entire human race is threatened Agent Mitchell takes this personally and he’s out for revenge.

Warnings: guns, fighting, swearing, images of gore and violence, there will be smut, high speed car cases, classified information, torture, murder, character death, 18+ minors DNI. Thank you @a-reader-and-a-writer for proofreading for me. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Berlin August 2021

As an agent you swear an oath to serve your country and protect the citizens from harm. You all knew the risks when you joined the Agency but this was something else. Agent Floyd had been murdered in cold blood, he had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time or that was what you had all been told. But ‘it was a tragic accident’ and ‘we’re sorry for your loss’ didn’t cut it. No, you'd wanted answers from an agency that always sought the truth and they weren’t giving you many. You all knew who was to blame, it was clearly written in the way everyone spoke, in silent whispers in the corridor, behind closed doors in board meetings. Everyone knew who had murdered Bob Floyd but they wouldn’t tell his team, the agency knew better than that.

When you join a team of elite agents you're not just a team but a family, working in unison, each playing their part like a well oiled machine, each member knows their role and without them the team would suffer. Bob Floyd had been a technician and analyst, he solved the problems, hacked encrypted systems, provided the team with fake identities. He’d been at the center helping everyone and without him the team was lacking. There was only so many fuck ups you could make without a technician to clear up the mess and that was where the Dagger Team was struggling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Dagger Team was a tightly knit group, made up of the best of the best agents that the Agency had to offer. Pete Mitchell aka Maverick was team leader, with years of experience under his belt as a field agent on missions and undercover, he knew all the ticks of the trade. Natasha Trace aka Phoenix was the seductress, she could talk or bribe her way into anywhere, covert parties and government buildings. She had a specific skill set and she used it to her advantage, manipulating anyone she needed to and with Bob’s help Nat could go anywhere. Bradley Bradshaw aka Rooster brought the muscle, he was a skilled agent with plenty of experience with difficult missions. He was ex-Navy and his skills had become very useful on more than one occasion. Jake Seresin aka Hangman was an ex-CIA agent. He’d never been one to follow the rules and often enjoyed playing by his own. He was a valued team member and he always managed to find a reason to blow something up. You were the brains of the operation, the level headed one who managed to keep the team calm and united during difficult situations. There had been plenty of times when the team had relied on you to come up with a plan B. Then there was Bob, the center of all operations.

The Dagger team was one of the most highly valued teams that the Secret Missions Agency had. Not being a government acknowledged Agency meant that you could often do things and go places that were outside normal boundaries of law and that was what had led you on your latest mission. To capture and gather information on Iceman. Iceman had been a thorn in the Agency’s side for many years, having been in charge of terrorist organizations, heists and murders. He was known worldwide for his deeds.

The Agency had a tip off from an inside agent stating that Iceman would be in Berlin for a short few days, that would be their window of opportunity. You’d landed in the private jet on a runway just outside of Berlin and were collected by a private operator who was going to take you to your hotel. The plan was to try and intercept Iceman at the German Opera Berlin.

You’d been dropped off at the hotel, there had been a mix up with bookings and the manager had apologized profusely so it left you sharing two rooms. You and Nat decided to share the smaller of the two rooms, while the boys all piled into the large room.

You sighed, flopping down on the bed and laughing as Nat surveyed the room, her high heels clicking against the tiled floor. You could hear the boys bumping and banging around the room next door and you knew there was a fight for the beds.

“I’m surprised you and Mav didn’t want to take this room,” Nat smirked, absentmindedly running her hand down the silk curtains. You snorted rolling onto your stomach so you could face her.

“What do you mean?” You tried to keep your face plain and emotionless, you’d been trained to keep a storied face but whenever it came to Mav you had a job not to smile. Nat laughed again, “it is so obvious how you looked at him. A blind man could see it.” You propped yourself up on your elbows opening your mouth to defend yourself when there was a light tap on the door.

Nat strolled over, throwing the door open and revealing a nervous looking Bob, he gave you a small smile.

“Hey, I’m just popping down to the bar to grab some drinks. Do you both want anything?”

Nat smirked at him, rubbing her finger over her lips as she thought. “We will take two large white wines please, Bobby.” You watched as Bob blushed at his nickname, smiling nervously.

“Of course.” He scurried off down the corridor and Nat closed the door triumphantly.

“You’ve gotta stop playing with him, Nat. The poor guys like putty in your hands.”

Nat sat down beside you, running her hand through your hair.

“I know, isn’t it fun?” She laughed, pushing herself off the bed and heading to the bathroom. “I’m going to shower.” She’d declared before disappearing.

You lay back on the bed again, eyes heavy as your lids dropped slowly. You’d only recently come back from another mission and with a quick layover in New York you’d been off again. It couldn’t hurt to catch a few hours right?

Nat shaking your shoulders roughly caused you to jump up ready to defend yourself.

“What’s going on?”

“They’ve taken Bob.” Nat's voice laced with worry as she grabbed both your bags in her hands.

“Who has?” You rubbed your eyes, trying to brush away the blurry sleep.

“Iceman.”

The team gathered in the lobby, waiting for Mav’s instructions. He ushered the group out to the higher car, his face stoic and emotionless, letting nothing show.

“Mav, what’s the plan?” You asked, leaning over to the front seat and talking softly to him. Mav shivered slightly at this interaction, turning to face you.

“We’re gonna get this son of a bitch and we will get Bob back. I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maverick wasn’t a man for breaking promises but stood here watching as they brought Bob’s body down from where it had been hung, Mav couldn’t help but feel like he’d failed him. They hadn’t stood a chance against Iceman’s team and Bob had ultimately paid the price. They had mutilated him, touring him with an inch of his life before hanging his lifeless body up on the rafters behind the set of the opera house. Jake and Bradley had cut Bob’s body down, laying him gently into the body bag. Mav watched as you tried to console Nat who was sobbing uncontrollably.

“He won’t even have a proper funeral,” she’d cried and you’d held her even tighter.

It was part of the contract that you’d signed when joining the agency, that if you were caught or killed then the Agency and US government would deny all knowledge of the operation or your existence. Your life and work are forgotten, brushed under the rug like some kind of inconvenience.

“We’ll give him a proper send off. I promise.” Mav said to Natasha who looked up at him with tear stained cheeks.

“I’m sorry if I don’t believe you Mav. Your promises don’t seem to mean a lot at the moment.”

He knew that she was just hurting but the pained look that Mav wore told you he’d felt that too and he blamed himself.

You’d buried Bob on the outskirts of Berlin, in a quiet wooded area where he could finally rest. His grave left unmarked as if he’d never existed at all but he’d existed to you, to all of you and he’d continue to live on through all of you. When a member of your team is brutally murdered you don't lie down and give up your fight until the last man and that is exactly what the Dagger team would do. Iceman didn’t know what would hit him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[rubyarrows]

The Liaison Pt2

In ops, the team briefed YN in on everything they had Beaumont. Every lead they have hit, known whereabouts, the slightest bit of background information they had on the man, they made her aware of it all. As they spoke, the YEC eyed girl made notes of anything she may have thought would help her out. She added it all to the other things she had found out while on the plane. The young agent pulled out her tablet and started drawing lines on a map to signify the places that the team knew had been in one color and other places she had found him pop up under alliances in another.  

After mapping out his known whereabouts, she looked up at everyone around her. “It’s clear to me that Beaumont has been using at least some of his training to stay off the grid as much as possible. But what he hasn’t been using it for is nourishment. His wife’s atm card has been flagged multiple times within the last few weeks at several grocery stores in the surrounding area. Didn’t you all say that Johanna said she lost her card a few weeks prior?” 

Callen nodded. “Said she lost it in the car after a girls night. It was in her back pocket when she got in the vehicle but not when she got out, and she has had to use their credit card for all the purchases she’s made in the last few weeks leading up to Sebastian’s run.” 

“You’re thinking Beaumont is using her card to make it seem like she found it again.” Sam says as he looks over the bank reports and pinged area that YN had put on the big screen. 

“It’s a possibility. I’ve seen it done quite a few times. Someone up and runs off from their big problems but before doing so they take the extra money their significant other has laying around or their bank card a week or so beforehand. Often, they help them look for it just to make themselves feel better. The unknowing party involved doesn’t usually catch on to it until days or weeks later. By that time, the suspect has all they need.” she added as she quickly typed on her tablet. “My brother always says when in doubt, follow the money. It’ll take some time to get into the actual store records even with a phone call, but from what I'm seeing here, the lieutenant likes to frequent one store in particular.” 

Kensi moves closer to the screen to get a closer look. “Looks like we have a good place to start.” 

YNN nods. “I do suggest starting with a base radius of ten miles surrounding the store though. It's not that far away from Angeles National Forest. He’s got a lot of ground to fit into like some sort of gopher.” 

Deeks looked over at his team members in awe. “It still surprises me that she can catch on to the littlest details they we seem to overlook.” 

“In your defense, most people don’t think to look deep into the significant other’s personal records if the surface is as spotless as Johanna Beaumont’s. The girl was never the suspect, just her bank account.”  the YHC haired girl said as she looked over at her boyfriend. 

The next week felt like a blur for the LA team as they began to compile more information on where Beaumont was thanks to YN’s help. They seemingly had made more progress in the small amount of time the girl was there than they had when she wasn’t there at all. Just as she had suggested, they had followed the money trail from Mrs. Beaumont’s bank card. The store it was mostly used in had no issues handing the surveillance footage over. 

After that, the team scoured high and low throughout a ten-mile radius of the store and eventually found an abandoned shack about five miles from any civilization. After staking out the place for hours, they found Lieutenant Beaumont stalking back with handfuls of wood for a fire. Callen and Deeks chanced Beaumont through the forest for twenty minutes before Marty was able to tackle the former navy man to the ground and apprehend him. 

As the sun set, casting hues of oranges and pinks across the sky, YN and Marty sat side by side with their feet resting in the warm sand, watching the waves as they crashed onto the shore. The couple sat there enjoying the serene beauty of the moment. Something they hadn’t gotten to do in a long time. 

Deeks turned to YN with his heart pounding in his chest with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. “Hey, YNN, I’ve been thinking, right?” 

She turned to look at him as he spoke, “What have you been thinking about?” 

The blonde-haired man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box that he has carried around with him for weeks leading up to her next arrival. He stood up from his spot on the rock they had been sitting on and pulled her up with him. “With everything we’ve been through together from the distances and the dangers of our jobs, it's hard to even picture what life would have been without knowing you in the slightest. Got me thinking that I would never want to imagine my life without you being a big part of it like you are now.”  

Deeks knelt down on one knee in front of her, looking up into the depth of YN’s YEC eyes. “I can’t offer you much, but what I can offer is everything I’ve got. YN DiNozzo, will you marry me?” 

 Tears welled up in the young girl’s eyes as she looked down at the man she loved. She nodded and her voice filled with emotion. “Yes, Marty. Oh god, a thousand times yes.” she exclaimed as she leaned down grabbing his face and placing a love-filled kiss onto his lips. 

Marty stood up and gently placed the ring upon her finger with a grand smile on his face. As he did so the sound of applause boomed from behind the sand dunes and rocks that they stood in front of. YN turned in her spot in the sand to see all members from both LA and DC teams standing there watching with smiles as big as the one she had on their faces and all beaming with joy. 

“Tell no one, huh?” she said back to Marty. 

He looked down at his feet and had a sly grin on his face. “This kind of thing just would not have felt right without our family present. 

McGee, Ziva, and Gibbs stood side by side with Callen, Sam, Kensi, Hetty, Eric and Nel as they walked over to congratulate the newly engaged couple. The two of them were overwhelmed with love and happiness as they watched their friends and colleagues move closer. But as they gathered around them YN noticed that there was somebody missing. Gibbs knew who she was looking for and motioned with his head behind them. 

The girl directed her YEC eyes in the direction her mentor had motioned to and there she found her older brother down the beach aways, watching as everything happened. She could just slightly make out the smile on his face. YNN let go of Deeks’ hand and slipped away from the crowd, but she could still feel all eyes on her as she made her way towards Tony. 

The older DiNozzo sibling met his younger sister halfway, the smile on his face ever growing as he made his way over to her. “Look at you, YNN. I don’t think being engaged has ever made anyone look more beautiful and happier as it does on you.” he said as he pulled his sister into his embrace. “Congratulations, kiddo.” 

YN’s smile grew as she returned the hug that Tony was giving her. “How long have you known he was going to propose?” she questioned. 

Tony rocked his head back and forth feigning thought. “A month give or take.” He finally admitted as the two of them made their way back to the group about fifty yards away from them. “Called me and said he would much rather have my blessing than dad’s and to be honest I don’t blame the guy.” 

“Oh, neither do I.” YN said and shook her head. “Last I heard the man was off in London with Melinda.” 

“See that just shows you talk to the old man way more than I do.” he said with a slight chuckle. 

“I didn’t talk to him. I heard that from Aunt Sherri.” the younger one admits with a small laugh of her own as they walked up on the group of people. 

With an amused look on his face, Tony shook Deeks’ hand and said, “Welcome to the family, brother. All I ask is that you take care of her.” 

Deeks gently pulled his now fiancé back over to him with a smile on his face. “Wouldn’t dream of ever doing the opposite. She means the world to me.” 

The older DiNozzo nodded. “I know the feeling.” 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a beautiful warm orange glow over the beach and YN stood there with the people she was more than happy to call her family, she was grateful that she was able to share these moments with the people she loved. She knew that she would never have been able to make it this far without them by her side every step of the way. She was beyond thankful for every single one of them and having them there with her to celebrate a special moment between her and Deeks was just the cherry on top. 

[canonicallyobserving911]

Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley: “Captain and found dad!”

Robert ‘Bobby’ Nash is captain of the 118 firehouse and he has been and continues to be more of a dad to Buck than Philip Buckley ever has been and probably ever will be.  After Buck was assigned to the 118, it didn’t take long for him and Bobby to establish a mentor/mentee type of relationship but it was strained because Buck didn’t grow up with a father figure who was relatable or taught him how to be respectful since Philip was both emotionally and mentally absent.  Bobby said Buck would sometimes call him “Pops” in 1x1 “Pilot” when he told Buck that they weren’t a family and the firehouse wasn’t a clubhouse. Since being reckless worked to get him attention from his parents, Buck assumed being reckless would help him get the same type of attention once he became an adult, but he was wrong.  After he stole the firetruck more than once to hook up with random women, Bobby fired him but he rehired him after Hen and Athena spoke up on his behalf.  The longer Buck worked with Bobby, their relationship began to merge into that of a found father and a found son within the 118′s found family.

In 2x14 “Broken” when Eddie climbed up the side of a burning house to save Alex, Buck looked at Bobby and said, “I feel like if I ever did that you’d yell at me!” and he was right because Bobby has and still does yell at Buck sometimes whenever he does something that is reckless.  They’ve had their disagreements like they did in 3x4 “Triggers” and 3x5 “Rage” when Buck filed a lawsuit against the department, the city and Bobby since Bobby told the brass that Buck wasn’t ready to return to active duty even though he passed all his certification tests and had been cleared by the doctors.  Even though they have argued sometimes, Buck and Bobby worry about each other.  Bobby was worried about Buck’s safety and his health in 3x1 “Kids Today” after Buck coughed up blood during his welcome back to the 118 party.  Buck worries about Bobby too.  In 3x10 “Christmas Spirit”, after Bobby had been exposed to a dangerous chemical while the 118 responded to an automobile accident in 3x9 “Fallout”, Buck told him that he was one of the most important people in his life and he didn’t know what he would do if anything happened to him.  Bobby has no problem chastising Buck whenever he goes against Bobby’s orders like he did in 4x14 “Survivors” when he climbed up that crane without any protection and he knew a sniper was on the loose.  Buck went upstairs after they had returned to the firehouse and basically asked Bobby for his punishment when he said, “So...are you ever going to say anything?” and Bobby said, “I don’t know Buck, what would you like for me to say?” Then Bobby proceeded to chastise him by explaining how he knew Buck was never going to change but he also knew that Buck does those reckless things because he cares about others.  When Buck thanked him, Bobby quickly corrected him and said, “Today was not that!”.  Bobby told him “Don’t do it again!” when he was done talking and Buck understood.  That’s one of the major differences between Bobby and Philip, Bobby chastises Buck for being reckless but Philip use to reward him for it.

Unlike Philip did in 2012 when Buck left home and didn’t return, Bobby didn’t let Buck runaway in 5x5 “Peer Pressure” when he said he wanted to put in for a transfer.  Bobby told Buck he wasn’t going anywhere and he would be there when Chimney returned.  Philip just let Buck leave in 2012 and didn’t chase after his own son.  After a roof collapsed on top of Bobby and May in 5x16 “May Day” and the rest of the 118 had to dig them out, Buck was extremely worried about Bobby and he remained that way until Hen and Eddie reassured him while they were at the hospital that Bobby would be ok.  Buck took responsibility for his girlfriend’s actions and apologized to Bobby in 5x18 “Starting Over” after she put two members of their found family in danger again like she did in 2x6 “Dosed”.  In 6x1 “Let the Games Begin” Bobby had to have a difficult conversation with Buck about the available interim captain spot since Bobby was going to be away from the firehouse for a few days.  Their relationship is one hundred times better than whatever it is Buck has with his biological father Philip.  Buck sees Bobby as the father he’s always wanted and he emulates him in everything he does; therefore when he finally has a family of his own with Eddie, he will be able to incorporate the things he learned from Bobby within his own family like he already does when he spends time with Christopher.  Hopefully he will forget all about the things he experienced as a child with his own biological father. Bobby may not be Buck’s biological father but he is his found dad and he has been there for him since Buck’s been with the 118.

GIF 1x1 “Pilot”

GIF 2x14 “Broken”

GIF 3x1 “Kids Today”

GIF 3x1 “Kids Today”

GIF 3x4 “Triggers”

GIF 3x6 “Monsters”

GIF 3x10 “Christmas Spirit”

GIF 3x10 “Christmas Spirit”

GIF 3x15 “Eddie Begins”

GIF  3x15 “Eddie Begins”

GIF 4x14 “Survivors”

GIF 5x5 “Peer Pressure”

GIF 5x16 “May Day”

GIF 5x16 “May Day”

GIF 6x1 “Let the Games Begin”

GIF 6x1 “Let the Games Begin”

[coopermorrow]

Can you write a Ryan Dunn x Male! Reader where Ryan and the Reader are staying up late and decide to have a nice little dance party together

Sure thing! I hope you like it! :)

LATE NIGHT DANCE PARTY - RYAN DUNN X MALE!READER

Characters: Ryan Dunn, Male!Reader

Warnings: light alcohol use, cursing

Contains: Ryan being a pretty fun dude

It was a warm summer night and whilst all the rest of the Jackass cast and crew had left for the night, only Y/N L/N remained along with his best friend Ryan Dunn. Ryan and Y/N met during the filming of the first movie. Y/N had just joined the crew as a camera man and was having a hard time communicating with the other Jackass members, mostly because they were so intimidating to him. Ryan on the other hand was what some would say a softie for the boy. The two men became fast friends, especially once they both learned they had the same sense of sarcastic humor.

Ryan and Y/N had just gone up to the roof to enjoy the nice warm weather and look at the night sky, a small cooler full of beer and a boombox with them. Y/N always did like to have music playing in the background. It didn't matter what was going on. He just loved it. Ryan didn't mind it either.

The two men sat in silence for a few minutes, just sipping their beers with the sounds of classic rock playing softly in the background. Y/N didn't mind the quiet. Him and Ryan had been talking and goofing off all night. Apparently, that wasn't enough for Ryan as he sighed and stood to his feet, half empty beer bottle still in hand. Y/N looked at him, a confused expression on his face. Ryan rolled his eyes and shook his hand at his best friend.

"Come on, get up."

Y/N heaved himself up off the roof tiles and watched as Ryan turned the music up before throwing his bottle to the ground. It wasn't until Ryan started dancing around that Y/N understood what was happening.

When the two men first started hanging out they'd have late night dance sessions and what not every once in a while when they weren't in the mood to talk. A large smile filled Y/N's face as he started messing around with Ryan. The two laughed the whole time, missing when they used to do this on a regular basis.

There wasn't a specific style of dance they were doing. They were just having fun and would change it up for each song. For one it was just them looking like they were having seizures and for the next they were participating in horrible ballroom dancing.

It felt like they were up there for hours, and they probably were. Ryan took Y/N's hand and spun him around on the rooftop, careful to not let him fall or get hurt. Short brakes were taken in between songs so they wouldn't get too tired out. And even if they did neither of them would mind because they were with each other.

It wasn't until the sun started coming up that Y/N decided they should probably call it quits. Ryan agreed and they both helped to clean up the roof and the surrounding areas before heading inside to go to sleep. Y/N tossed Ryan his spare clothes that were always kept at his house for moments like these. The two friends changed in silence before getting into bed. Neither man had any problem with sharing the same bed. They'd been close friends for years.

As Y/N shuffled around to get comfortable Ryan spoke up. "We need to do this more often. I missed this."

Y/N sighed lightly and nodded, eyes heavy. "Yeah. It was fun. Maybe we can make it a regular thing like we used to."

After those words were spoken, the two cuddled up under the blankets and fell asleep together, worn out from all the dancing they'd done on the rooftop.

Sorry this took me a couple days to write. I couldn't really think of a good idea for this one, so it definitely isn't one of my best works. It's also way shorter than I'd like it to be so I may re-write it if something better comes to me. I hope it's not too bad though.

[coochiequeens]

WTF Scotland?

A prisoner who identifies as transgender is requesting taxpayer-funded “gender affirming care” through the National Healthcare System (NHS) in Scotland. Paris Green, 30, whose birth name is Peter Laing, is currently being held in the women’s section of Edinburgh’s Saughton jail, where he is serving a life sentence for murder. 

Green is seeking to become the first prisoner in the United Kingdom to have the full procedure euphemistically referred to as ‘sex reassignment surgery’ on the public dime.

In 2013, Green was one of three men found guilty for the torture and murder of 45-year-old Robert Shankland. 

Green, along with two other men had invited Shankland, 45, to a party at Green’s residence in Glenrothes, Fife, in March of 2013. Once Shankland arrived, the men tied him up, then beat and tortured him for seven hours. Shankland was also sexually assaulted him with a rolling pin before he died as a result of either suffocation or blunt force injuries. The three killers then sold Shankland’s mobile phone for £26 and spent the money on sandwiches, which they ate at the scene of the crime as Shankland took his final breaths.

When sentencing the trio at the High Court in Glasgow, Judge John Morris called the crime “utterly depraved,” stating: “This was a particularly gruesome murder which effectively involved the torture of your victim over many hours. It beggars belief that you could act towards another human being in this way.”

Upon conviction, Green was initially detained at Cornton Vale women’s prison, but was transferred to the women’s ward in Edinburgh after only five weeks in detention because he repeatedly engaged in sexual relations with the female inmates.

Speaking to the Daily Record from jail, Green said that he regretted committing the “inexcusable” crime and insisted that undergoing genital surgery would help him become rehabilitated. He blamed his “anger” over his identity for his violent actions and said he felt disgusted by his genitals.

“Nothing is more important to me than becoming fully the person I should have been. I want to feel comfortable in the shower rather than feeling repulsed. Having male genitalia feels wrong.”

When asked why he had committed the brutal murder, he said: “It was inexcusable – all I can say is I had a really awful childhood and was totally messed up. I was carrying a lot of anger inside me even before I realized I should have been a woman and that made me more angry.”

Green initially began taking hormones in 2011, and met with a surgeon at Nuffield Clinic in Brighton in 2020. But the medical professional delayed the procedure after expressing concern for the safety of other patients on the ward due to the nature of Green’s sadistic crime

Shankland’s family members have for several years campaigned against Green being housed with women, as well as being permitted to receive state-funded medical interventions. In 2018, the estimated cost to taxpayers for Green’s surgery was said to be approximately £20,000. Over the past decade, relatives of the victim have launched petitions and contacted representatives to state their case. 

One petition, created by Leigh Robb, states: “My uncle Robert was brutally murdered by three people who were all sentenced to a minimum of 18 years. Problem is that one of his murderers is a man who likes to be known as a woman ‘Paris’. This man is set to undergo full gender realignment on the NHS payed [sic] for by us tax payers. He should not be rewarded for this brutal crime and should serve his time in a man’s prison. Please help me get some justice for my uncle and our family.”

Family members spoke with The Daily Mail in 2018, detailing their objections to Green’s placement in a woman’s prison and to his potential surgery. Pauline Bell, Shankland’s sister, said, “[He] should not be getting the operation on the NHS. It’s not lifesaving treatment. [He] took ­somebody’s life away and destroyed a family.”

Shankland’s mother, Mary, told the press, “Green doesn’t know the meaning of the word remorse. [He] shouldn’t get the operation, especially when so many people need vital treatment on the NHS – and they’re not getting it. But the authorities are jumping through hoops for him.”

Shankland’s family also set up a Facebook page, Justice for Robert Shankland, where they shared updates and attempted to gain support for their efforts.

On one post from 2013, a woman who claims to have been housed in Cornton Vale with Green during the five-week period he was held there commented in support of the victim’s family, saying that the convicted murderer told her how he had committed the grotesque slaying. She also claimed that Green threatened to kill himself should he be sentenced to life in prison.

Using a mixture of both masculine and feminine pronouns, she said that Green was “vile to the core” and that he selectively took hormones, like a “game” he was playing with the staff at the women’s prison. “It’s always going to be [a] game to Paris. I can’t ever forget. I hate [him] with a passion,” the former inmate wrote.

Another former prisoner detained with Green similarly remarked: “When I first went in [he] looked, talked and acted like a woman. But [he] had a spell where [his] behavior changed. It seemed [he] was having doubts, had stopped taking the hormones and was growing facial hair again. [He] was also sexually active and everyone knew about it. [He] had at least one girlfriend.’

Still another anonymous insider told the media that Green was notorious for having sexual relations with female inmates, adding: “He didn’t seem to be acting much like a woman to me.”

At the end of January, following a slew of violent male criminals claiming to identify as women and some requesting housing in the women’s estate, the UK Ministry of Justice updated its transgender prisoner policy. The new framework restricts male inmates with intact genitalia, or those who have been convicted of a sexual offense, from being placed in women’s prisons. In February, the Scottish Prison Service confirmed that newly convicted or remanded prison inmates will initially be placed in jails according to their sex at birth.

Speaking with the Daily Record, Dr. Kate Coleman of the campaign group Keep Prisons Single Sex, said, “Green, who is serving a sentence for torture and murder, would, under the new Ministry of Justice policy, be held in the male estate. We hope the SPS [Scottish Prison Service] will similarly place the safety of women at the center of their revised policy when the policy is finally released.”

A report from The Times in 2018 revealed that a senior official of the Scottish Prison Service, Gordon Pike, who was one of those responsible for its “gender identity and gender reassignment policy,” would turn out to be a sex offender himself, having hoarded 22,000 indecent pictures of children.

By Genevieve Gluck

Genevieve is the Co-Founder of Reduxx, and the outlet's Chief Investigative Journalist with a focused interest in pornography, sexual predators, and fetish subcultures. She is the creator of the podcast Women's Voices, which features news commentary and interviews regarding women's rights.

Isla Bryson was convicted in January of raping two women in 2016 and 2019 

Prosecutors said 31-year-old, who still has a penis, 'preyed' on vulnerable women

Sex beast's lawyers recieved a total of £30,428.23 from Scottish Legal Aid Board

A trans double rapist received more than £30,000 of taxpayers cash to mount a defence - while she was initially sent to a womens prison.

Isla Bryson, 31, was convicted in January of raping two women: one in Clydebank in 2016 and one in Drumchapel, Glasgow, in 2019.

The case sparked an uproar after Bryson was initially housed in an all-female prison before being moved to the male estate following the outcry.  see rest of article

[siriannatan]

Arranged Rearrangements Chapter 2

AO3 - for anyone who prefers reading there :}

When he landed by his manor, dusting off snow from himself once more he was instantly accosted by a gaggle of advisors. All worried by the message from Mythland that fWhip has left. Not sent by Mythland's side but by their own agents send to make sure fWhip was treated as a lord of his standing should be. Curiously enough they were much more worried about his well-being than how Sausage might react. Well, they did hear Mythland failed to feed him properly and how he was ignored most of the night. Not things fWhip himself would mention. And tonight was the first time agents tailed him to one of these parties since his court was a bit worried as to why he never wanted to go to these parties. He usually did not complain as much when his duties needed him to go to one. Enjoyed dancing even.

"My lord, please do not worry us by vanishing so suddenly," one advisor huffed as the group followed him into the manor. Calling maids to bring the Count his midnight snack in form of a whole bottle of animal blood. Getting a steady supply of human blood without worrying one's neighbours was a bit difficult.

fWhip did not complain even if he wasn't all that hungry. He did tell Scott he'd eat more when at home after all. "Well, as you've heard, I left the party hungry, so hungry I flew to Rivendell by mistake, king Scott was luckily awake and helped me and we had a nice chat, he'll be coming over tomorrow to discuss an important matter," fWhip deemed important enough to tell them they would have a guest and come up with an excuse why he even saw Scott tonight.

"If we might ask... What is Lord Scot's important matter? So we can prepare to not take too much of his time..." another advisor asked.

"Something about him and me being technically engaged by the elven law," fWhip shrugged as if it was no big deal. It was a huge deal and all his present advisors gasped. "Someone was supposed to marry someone and there was an argument and by the elven law, the engagement moved on and now binds him and me. So... how does it look on our side so I'm not surprised? He has letters and other papers too and is ready to demand the agreement be finally held up. He seemed annoyed that it was ignored for so long."

The advisors exchanged a harrowed look. What would Mythland say? "Well... The issue is... Rivendell is no longer part of the Alliance..."

"Yes, because of the marriage issues," fWhip nodded. A maid quickly walked in, left his 'snack' and left him alone in the sitting room with the shaking advisors, who just as he expected were wracking their brains to get him married to Scott. The alliance with Mythland was solid enough with no marriage. Rivendell was strong and rich and Scott had a stellar reputation even if he had to take the throne suddenly. Almost overnight.

"Yes, but if we have two more member rulers to say they are fine with letting Rivendell back into the alliance the whole engagement should move on smoothly. If you wish to, since your lordship is the head of Wither Rose Alliance cancelling the current engagement with Mythland should not cause problems... But we will look into it further early in the morning, and call a representative from their side to explain. Since the engagement with Lord Scott has been in effect much longer it is the more official agreement.." the advisors swapped who spoke but somehow managed to stay coherent and in line with the subject. "For tonight we'll let your lordship rest..."

"I doubt Sausage will mind calling the engagement off, we were always more like brothers anyway before his council started to push the whole thing," fWhip nodded and sipped some blood. Nasty compared to Scott's but it kept his brain working as it should. "But, yes, do look into it a bit more before our guest arrives. You're dismissed, go rest yourselves we'll have a lot of work to do early tomorrow," he dismissed them with a toothy smile that got them scampering away and wishing him a good night.

With his council finally gone fWhip sighed and relaxed slightly. That went a lot smoother than he expected even if he expected them to not be against the idea. He was pretty sure Gem and Pearl would be easy to convince to say yes to Rivendell re-joining the Alliance. Pearl always dealt with bandits from no man's land and Mythland, even though they had a strong army it was relatively small and very hard to divide and move. On the other hand, Rivendell's army was made up of small squads of rune knights, archers and mages and moved both quickly and easily. He could easily help keep Pearl's more peaceful land safe. Certainly easier than fWhip or even Gem.

Speaking of. His sister was always friendly towards Scott and would probably love a fifth person on the Alliance Council to cut any discussions when neither side could convince the other on issues. She might be a bit angry since Scott had his own school of mages but she'd get over it. She usually agreed with fWhip and he had no intention of saying no.

And even if she did. Sausage would probably say yes just to not be engaged to fWhip anymore. But he was as likely to say no as well so fWhip would rather not rely on him entirely. Well, there was Scott's conflict with the Lost Empire of the forest (or jungle as they called themselves) elves to do with Xornoth, Scott's older brother, eloping with their king. They were friendly with Mezalea. Mezalea was a big ally of the Cod Empire. The biggest enemy of the Wither Rose Alliance. That could sway him as well.

But, in the end, it would all be a whole bunch of political talks going on for hours and hours. At least Scott didn't have a council everything had to go through which made things a little less complicated.

fWhip could suffer through all that if it meant he could cuddle Scott more often and not have to sneak out to spend time with him. For Nether's sake, he'd be expected to spend time with Scott whenever they can spend time together and be with him at all the parties. And finally have a partner willing to dance with him. At least judging by Scott's often sighs how this or that time it was a shame he could not steal fWhip for at least one dance...

[championofnyx]

Misperception of Issues and Lack of Treatment Part 2: Brion Markov

Both in the case of Mary and Brion, there is influence of a second party contributing to them ultimately switching sides: Granny Goodness and Zviad Baaovi, but both do not have full control over their targets and have to play off of pre-existing emotions and insecurities. We’ve talked about how Mary’s longing for the feeling of power associated with her Sergeant Marvel form. So what did Zviad use to manipulate Brion? An overinflated sense of responsibility mixed with new guilt.

Let's first talk about responsibility. We know from Deathstroke that Tara was with Brion when she was kidnapped, or that she was supposed to be with him. He had invited her to a foreign country (where I am guessing he attended school at the time) and then left her when she was taken. Landing responsibility for ripping his family apart. This is later emphasized in the first episode during his conversation with the Nuremberg Code Violation (Dr. Jace) about his wishes to become a meta-human, but more importantly, a protector, of both his people and family. His sister was taken when she was in his protection, and to make up for that failure, he has convinced himself that he must change and become more so that no one else he cares about is harmed again. Taking both the responsibility for what happened, and the prevention of another family member being hurt. 

The second time this is emphasized is in his decision to join the outsiders. This one is a little bit of a reach, but I think it explains a lot if you bear with me. Going back to the first episode we know that the King and Queen had dedicated their lives, and a significant amount of Markovias resources to ending trafficking in the nation, both rescuing and preventing kids from being kidnapped. A dedication they wouldn’t have had to make if Tara wasn’t kidnapped if Brion hadn’t allowed her to be kidnapped. This ended up leading to their deaths. We only got two scenes with Brion before their murders, but in both of them, he spoke kindly, firm at moments that needed emphasizing, but never the anger that we are so used to. Even in the interview with Kat Grant, he walked away rather than engage in her inappropriate questioning. Anger being the most commonly displayed emotion in grief tends to be evidence of an underlying sense of guilt surrounding the death. Brion feels responsible for his parents' deaths because they would have never had to place themselves in danger if he hadn’t messed up. This is why he assumes responsibility to carry on with their wishes: saving meta-kids.

Now, let's talk about season 3, episode 11. In this episode, Dick tries in his own problematic way to talk through what he believes is going on with Brion. In which, we see that the others, or at least dick, view the impact behavior we spawning from a sort of nostalgic jealousy. Longing both for a home that had been lost, but also jealous over the fact that his brother was able to live in the lost home. Rather than seeing it from a sense of guilt, feeling responsible for both his sister’s kidnapping and his parent’s murder and, at this time, having no way to fix it. He can’t find his sister, he can’t help his brother rule their country, he can’t help continue on his parent’s work, and he is stuck on a farm in Rhode Island with no ways to make amends for his perceived sins. This is why we begin to see an adjustment in his behavior as he is given these outlets over the season, finding his sister, joining the outsiders, and being given an opportunity to help others, but these are all bandages. Instead of providing therapy, they saw what was on the surface, the inconvenience of a hot head with volatile powers, and were too relieved to see that it wasn’t their problem any more than to ask why it was there in the first place. 

I mean for christ sakes be lived with a counselor and no though this boy needs professional help after all the shit he had gone through? But, SImilar to the case of Mary, those around them misunderstood what was causing their problematic behavior and tried to fix it without taking the time and effort to fully understand where it come from through professional mesures and not a diagnosis made by unqualified parties. 

Since we’ve been introduced to his character, Brion has been attempting to fix every problem that his perceives as his fault, which is hindered by his own unaddressed ptsd, from both the kidnapping of Tara and the murder of his parents. First by wanting to become a metahuman that could eventually protect his country, and more importantly, his family like he couldn’t before and preventing more tragedy from befalling those he cares about. Second in joining the outsiders that was formed with many goals, but one that is highlighted in the series, rescuing kidnapped children, fulfilling the promise his parents made that got them murdered, a pledge they wouldn’t have had to make if he hadn’t failed to protect his sister. And lastly, in his conversation is Violet, so let’s talk about that. 

What really hit me was when Brion spoke of needing “to make something good come out of the ashes” because that is all we’ve been seeing him trying to do. And yet, all of his attempts have led to unhealthy choices, throwing himself into more and more dangerous situations that have been paying off, up until Zviad stepped in, and used the desire to make up for past failures by promising that his strength would be his country's salvation. That the past year and everything that had happened really did add up into making into a person that could protect family and country. A level that couldn’t have been pulled if the pattern laid out was recognized sooner by those, particularly the adults, surrounding him. 

Part three will focus on the exception made to this pattern, and why it was noticed when the others weren’t. 

[mariacallous]

The old man standing beside the prime minister on Wednesday, who spoke with pain and emotion about what happened in Israel on Saturday the 7th, was until 13 days ago one of the main targets of the rightist, Bibi-ist poison machine.

Ministers and lawmakers of the ruling party urged him to mind his own business, not to interfere with our lives and to respect our democracy.

Right-wing media personalities mocked his advanced age and moments of confusion. They rebuked him for not meeting the prime minister sooner. They reminded him that Israel wasn’t a banana republic and we have no need for his repeated preaching of “shared values.”

They received these messages directly from the most senior rank in Israel. The sentiment in the Prime Minister’s Office was this: Let’s hang in there until November 24, our dear brother Donald Trump will return and then we’ll be free.

Israel, as a nation, has much to be ashamed of this cursed year. The campaign against U.S. President Joe Biden is at the top of the list of shame. If he had been made of the same stuff as the vengeful, infantile Trump, who never forgave anyone for slighting him, he wouldn’t have rallied to our side in a way that was no less than historic. Nor would there have been a visit here. It’s extremely doubtful we would have seen the defense aid now being funneled to us in such quantity and quality. They don’t make friends of Israel like this anymore.

It’s not easy for a person who will turn 81 in a month’s time to fly to a place with a seven-hour time difference, open an intensive, exhausting schedule of discussions and meetings and then board the plane back to Washington again. He didn’t have to do it. His secretary of state spends many days here, the secretary of defense was here. He could have sent his vice president, Kamala Harris. She is also a staunch friend of Israel, and she was also subject to the inevitable shower of abuse (in the context of the judicial overhaul) from the cartoon foreign minister, Eli Cohen.

Biden came to Israel, a state at war, to express his love and commitment to the Jewish state, and also to warn enemies like Iran and Hezbollah not to join the war. So far he has done everything he could humanly do to strengthen Israel, from the aspects of security, strategy and leadership. Granted, it doesn’t harm his election campaign – quite the opposite. A survey released in the United States on Wednesday shows that for the first time in a long while, he is rising in the polls in contrast to Trump. His team, headed by National Security Advisor Jake Sullivan, is running the crisis in a much colder fashion than Biden’s emotionalism. For them this is an opportunity to prove to the Middle East – especially to Saudi Arabia – what a superpower looks like when it comes to the help of an ally in danger.

His and Secretary of State Antony Blinken’s involvement in the war cabinet discussions is unprecedented, like everything that is happening now. At this point, they’re more updated than the defense cabinet ministers in all the security details regarding Gaza and the northern border, should it conflagrate.

In the short term, this will help Israel prevent opening a northern front. In the long run, it could be a strategic problem. But sometimes what strengthens the United States could weaken Israel. The Abraham Accords, like the deal being formed with Saudi Arabia, which is now suspended, were based on the Sunni states’ recognition that Israel is the strongest state in the region. But when Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu calls his parents when he’s beaten up at school, and they rush in to help, Israel looks weak.

Besides, Biden doesn’t trust Netanyahu and his cabinet, whose extreme members constitute a clear danger to the state’s – and region’s – security. The prime minister has proved in the nine months between January 4 and October 7 that he needs close supervision.

At countless crossroads, he acted irrationally and consistently ignored the warning signals raised in front of him. Again and again, he violated his commitment to the president to legislate in agreement with the opposition. He infuriated the Americans so many times that they find it difficult to believe he’s changed.

He hasn’t, and he won’t. So beside the huge carrots being granted to Israel, there’s also a big stick hovering above.

[farmergilesofham]

My Second Destiny OC Story (Part 2 of the first)

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Having dealt with the wanderers' Hive-related problem, I found myself showered by invitations to accompany the group in their journey towards the Last City, of which they too had heard tell. Their accounts differed somewhat from the stories Loxley had regaled me with, but remained much the same in the important respects: it was a safe haven, it was a place of rest, it was a place where they could raise their children without fear. The Last City, in my travels with these people and others, took on mythical form - it was with a religious fervor that the young and old alike spoke of it, of its flying buttresses, of its valiant defenders, of a city bathed in the eternal reverent Light of the Traveler.

All told, I was their protector for ninety-seven years. We crossed an ocean together.

Before my arrival, the party (whom the children tried to name all manner of creative things, to little avail) had subsisted mainly by scavenging for food, water, and supplies. Their defensive capabilities were nonexistent, and their pursuit by a single contingent of Hive had left everyone ragged and on the near edge of despair. I soon set about rectifying their situation.

The surrounding landscape still seemed shockingly devoid of life, despite being so close to fairly dense woodland, yet it was not awfully long before careful snares found a dozen oversized hares, and scrummaging in the undergrowth produced some of the most excellent mushrooms I have ever had the genuine pleasure to set eyes upon. Travel was essential, however, so I set about having the strongest of the adults fell a few thin beeches, which were swiftly lashed together into the base of a hand-cart. However, with the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, I despaired for the lack of some solid wooden wheels, until I was shown the most excellent invention made popular at some point after my death - wheels crafted from solid metal! Quite the invention indeed.

Fitted with a proper set of wheels, repurposed from some terribly rusted machine, the cart housed most of the group's possessions, and seated the children when travelling across difficult terrain. We set out that same evening, the group filled with a sudden confidence that my arrival meant they could finally entertain their dream of reaching the Last City, alive.

The stars are different now than I remember them, if only slightly. There are somewhat fewer of them.

Our first meal, taken around midnight as we reached a more defensible location - a wooded hollow, in the midst of three rotund boulders - was apparently the best they had had in months. It was the first thing I had eaten in centuries, but to mention such a thing would have been rude, I figured. The spit-roasted hares were delicious, as were the mushrooms we fried on a large, flat rock. I found some small root vegetables quite similar to potatoes growing just at the foot of one boulder, and a treatment on the rock found they were, indeed, some variation of potato hitherto unknown to me. I have made note of these and other new plants in my personal journal, which for now I shall be keeping to myself. I can't have you stealing my best recipes, can I?

I watched over them, sleeping huddled together around the long fire, as the gentle light of the stars slipped away in lieu of a warm, bright sunrise. We set off shortly thereafter, and that is when I learned all their names.

The eldest members of the party, each at least sixty when I joined them, if not older, were Darma, Mago, and Kara. Darma was a surprisingly spry, chestnut-brown woman, with all the telltale signs of a long and active life resplendent on her ever-smiling face. Mago, a crotchety old fellow ever possessed of more bark than bite, as he snuck little sugardrops to the children while their parents weren't looking, only to complain over some ache of his or another when eyes turned back to him. He, too, had skin dark by nature, and darkened still by so much time in the sun, in contrast with the shock of white hair miraculously clinging on to his aged scalp. Kara was... she was kind. She was easily the most able of the elders, and used that ability wisely indeed. In the end, she outlived even some of the younger generation, and we buried her under the shade of an aged oak in sight of the sea. She always said that if nothing else, she wanted to see the ocean at least once before she died.

I sat with her, in the light of the setting sun, and held her hand as she passed with the ending of the day.

The other original members of the party were Aulia, Alina, Siobhan, Kronan, Salieri, Perrhe, and Himilco among the adults, along with the children: Stora, Sinon, Parrha, Arrhon, Siti, Velasqua, and Kastor. Most folk were unrelated, stragglers picked up along the road or secreted away from unfavourable situations. Perrhe, Parrha and Arrhon were the only ones there related by blood, and they flourished when everyone worked together. It was after learning everyone's names that I taught the children how to make themselves a sling, with which they might catch themselves a bird for dinner, or knock down anything stuck higher than they could reach it. For the rest, as we made camp the following evening, I fashioned in short order a set of staves, with slots for lashing on simple metal points.

Though the stars are a little different, I can still navigate by their position, and indeed I used this to our advantage... until Lox chimed in, helpfully pointing out that in fact he had had a compass embedded somewhere in that biscuit tin of a body this entire time. Alas, my chances of seeming the all-knowing leader were dashed, and Lox was unbearable for the rest of the week. Do not believe anything he tells you about my being weepy and inconsolable, it is nonsense.

At a certain point, a hazy, jagged mass appeared on the horizon. We spent much of the day walking along well-beaten earth towards it, each mile passed emphasising the enormity of what we then thought was a low mountain, encrusted with outcrops of jagged stone.

That is all, for now. Of my first meeting with a Warlord, and the events which transpired thereafter, I may yet relay at a later date.