#Central Armed Police Force

[newsmrl]

Know what is the controversial law AFSPA implemented in Assam since 1990, which Assam CM Himanta Biswa is planning to withdraw

AFSPA can be removed from Assam soon, Assam Chief Minister Himanta Biswa was addressing the Commandant’s Conference on Monday. He said the move would facilitate the deployment of Assam Police battalions in place of the Central Armed Police Forces or CAPFs. AFSPA, the controversial law in force in Assam since 1990, gives security forces the power to crack down and arrest anyone without a warrant.…

[fandom-geek]

Tánaiste and Minister for Foreign Affairs Micheál Martin has announced €20 million in support for the UN Palestinian refugee agency (UNRWA) and urged countries that have suspended funding to resume and expand support to the agency. Mr Martin is holding talks in Dublin with UNRWA Commissioner-General Philippe Lazzarini. UNRWA, which provides healthcare, education and other services, has been pitched into crisis since Israel alleged that 12 of its 13,000 staff in Gaza were involved in the 7 October Hamas-led attack on Israel that precipitated the war in Gaza. The allegations prompted a number of countries to suspend funding, including the United States, its largest donor. Ireland contributed €18m directly to UNRWA in 2023, part of €36m provided to the Palestinian people.

[edunative]

UPSC Central Armed Police Forces AC

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[valueadss]

Central Armed Police Forces CAPF (AC)

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[freejobalert1]

CAPF Medical Officer Recruitment 2023

CAPF Medical Officer Recruitment 2023 : सेंट्रल आर्म्ड पुलिस फोर्स ने मेडिकल ऑफिसर भर्ती 2023 का नोटिफिकेशन जारी कर दिया है। केंद्रीय सशस्त्र पुलिस बल में मेडिकल ऑफिसर के 297 पदों पर भर्ती की जाएगी। CAPF Medical Officer Recruitment 2023 के लिए ऑनलाइन आवेदन 15 फरवरी से 16 मार्च 2023 तक कर सकते है l इस भर्ती के लिए योग्यता, आयु सीमा, आवेदन शुल्क एवं सभी जानकारी निचे दी गई है l CAPF Medical Officer…

[starlightshadowsworld]

Monikers I would give to the Armed Detective Agency and why.

Yukuchi “Silent Death” Fukuzawa

-Former assassin who hasn’t lost his touch at all. The Agencies last line of defence and there secret weapon.

-Plays into him coming across as the stoic silent type.

Edogawa “Case Cracker” Ranpo

-He’s known for one thing and he’s going to make sure everyone knows it.

-Ain’t ever found a case he can’t crack.

-Probably said by the police force rolling their eyes and realising oh…shit he’s the real deal.

Akiko “Butterfly Butcher” Yosano

-She beats people with a cleaver, I rest my case.

-Butterflies in her ability and hairpin, and I like alliteration.

Doppo “The Forger” Kunikida

-To forge as in to create something (and depending on the definition it can mean to make an intimation of a thing) which fits his ability.

-Forgery is also a crime and that felt fitting for mr ‘fuck authority I make my own rules’

Katai “Signal” Tayama

-Refers to how his ability lets him manipulate electric signals.

-The central communication line for the Agency and you cant do shit without a signal so it shows how important he is to them even in his absence.

Osamu “Unchained” Dazai

-Slippery bastard who often goes off doing his own thing.

-Refers to both his party trick of escaping handcuffs and the way he’s never caught unless he allows himself to be.

-Very ‘you’re trapped in here with me’ vibes.

-Somewhat ironic considering how he remains chained to this life.

Kenji “Earthshaker” Miyazawa

-Refers to what bought him to the Agency and plays into how he’s seen (and is) a terrifying force of nature.

Junichiro “Phantom” Tanizaki

-His main strategy in a fight is to make himself invisible to the enemies eyes.

-Can and will make people disappear.

Atsushi “White Fanged Demon” Nakajima

-Play into when the tiger was basically a cryptid. Is he a tiger or something else in entirely sort of thing.

-And how Atsushi’s been demonised his whole life.

-Thought it’d be fun to give him a moniker similar to Akutagawa, who’s been known as the Black Fanged Hellhound.

Kyouka “Jasmine Dagger” Izumi

-Refers to her prowess as a swordswoman.

-The jasmine flowers in her hair. How she’s the flower in darkness that not only braved the light but thrives in it.

[fatliberation]

The Fat Protestor

by @sparklejams and @jordallenhall

For everyone showing up to protest the US government funding of a genocide -- be loud, be safe. Your body is a force. If you are able, use it.

Police identify people by body type/clothing. Be aware (as if you could possibly forget) that you don't have the privilege of blending into the crowd.

Be aware that fatmisic police protocol and infrastructure can endanger your life during arrest.

Let this inform the risk that you take.

If you get arrested: raise hell about being cuffed with your hands in front of your body.

Mid-fat, super-fat, and infinifat people are especially at risk of positional asphyxia when cuffed with their arms behind them. Be especially vocal about any stress position where your knees are raised (sitting on a low police van bench, for instance).

Police typically don't listen to folks when concern is expressed over being cuffed in the back -- be loud. Verse yourself and your community in de-arresting practice. These risks are not commonly known, though are present not only for fat people, but also those with asthma and other breathing difficulties.

Make sure the people you are with are informed of these risks before protesting.

Direct action is sweaty. Prepare against crease rashes (yep - it's a normal self care maintenance thing if you have skin rolls/folds. It's normal. It's common. It's nothing to be ashamed about.) by drying with paper towels, using antiperspirant or cornstarch under your breasts/belly. When you get home, shower and treat with a wound cleanser (shoutout bactine spray) or a tea tree oil balm or soap as needed.

Our fat bodies are magnificent contributions at protests. Our fat bodies take more effort to move - think of all the wonderful ways we can use this to our advantage at a protest or direct action. We can block pathways and hold precious land with our fat bodies. We can shield and protect precious people with our fat bodies.

Bring:

• Change of socks. If you get caught in the rain or doused with water, or even if you sweat through your socks - walking around in wet socks will cause bad blistering.

• Light first aid/bandaids

• Water, snacks, meds

• A physical copy of your emergency contact in case of arrest

Try to go with other fat people. Comrades in normative bodies may not always consider your body and what is safe for you - so make sure you loudly advocate for yourself and your needs within whatever group you are with.

Stay cool. Take breaks. Sit or stop when you need to. Try to be hyper-mindful of getting overheated.

In case of hospitalization:

• Make a packet containing all medical info, advance directives, and emergency contacts. Put it in a clear sleeve with a humanizing photo of you with loved ones at the front.

• Learn more about how to make a Connection Kit and humanize yourself to healthcare workers in the Know Your Rights Guide on nobodyisdisposable.org

Remember that there is so much to do beyond the front lines.

• Provide jail support (wait to greet released protesters with water, snacks, hugs, and rides home).

• Provide your home as a central prep and recovery space before/after.

• Stay near the action and offer your car as a mobile phone charging station.

• Provide childcare.

• Drop off supplies.

Honor your body as a resource for civil disobedience. Center your needs.

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 A child, killed in an Israeli airstrike, is found in the arms of his dead father by Palestinian civil defense personnel under the rubble of their residential home in the Gaza Strip on Saturday after a long night of IOF warplanes bombing their way across the entirety of the enclave.]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏠💥🚑 🚨

ZIONIST BOMBING CAMPAIGN KILLS DOZENS ON DAY 176 OF "ISRAEL'S" WAR OF GENOCIDE IN THE GAZA STRIP

On the 176th day of "Israel's" ongoing war of genocide in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 7 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of at least 71 Palestinians, mostly women and children, while another 112 others have been wounded over the previous 24-hours.

The Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS) reported on Saturday that a total of 26 personnel have been killed since the beginning of the Zionist aggression on Gaza, including 15 team members who were killed while performing their duties.

PRCS crews also reported transporting the bodies of two martyrs, killed as a result of occupation artillery shelling of a civilian structure in the Al-Maghazi Camp, in the central Gaza Strip.

Israeli occupation forces continued with their offensive near Al-Shifa Medical Complex, located in the Al-Rimal neighborhood of Gaza City, besieging the hospital for at least 10 consecutive days, while horrific attacks on civilians, patients and medical personnel in the hospital are being reported, including field executions of civilians, illegal detentions, torture, and forced displacement of local residents and civilians sheltering in the complex.

Elsewhere, Zionist occupation forces bombed a residential home belonging to the Abdo family on Al-Wahda Street, in the Al-Rimal neighborhood of Gaza City, resulting in the deaths of 10 family members.

In yet another horrific atrocity, Zionist soldiers assassinated a police officer in Gaza City as he drove his wife and children in his civilian vehicle, killing all seven family members.

IOF warplanes also bombarded The Shuja'iyya Club, a local sports club in the Al-Shujaiya neighborhood, east of Gaza City, resulting in the martyrdom of several citizens, including members of the popular committees in charge of organizing the distribution of humanitarian aid.

The Zionist occupation army also targeted starving Palestinians waiting for food aid on Salah al-Din Street, in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, east of Gaza City, wounding a number of civilians.

Occupation bombing, shelling and gunfire also continues to target civilians across the northern Gaza Strip.

Meanwhile, the Israeli occupation forces also completed the destruction of the city of Prisoners, north of the Al-Nuseirat Refugee Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, leveling 21 out of 24 buildings in the area.

Simultaneously, Zionist warplanes bombed several civilian homes near the Prisoner Towers, west of the Al-Nuseirat Camp, martyring five civilians.

Occupation fighter jets also bombarded the town of Al-Mughraqa, along with the Al-Nuseirat Camp, Al-Maghazi and in the vicinity of the Wadi Gaza Bridge in the central Gaza Strip.

The IOF also targeted the headquarters of the municipalities of Al-Bureij and Al-Zawayda in the central Governate of the Gaza Strip, which can no longer provide basic services as a result.

In yet another horrific crime, IOF warplanes bombed a civilian residence belonging to the Musa family in the Al-Maghazi Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, killing several family members and wounding a number of others, while the explosion from the blast also wrought massive destruction on nearby houses.

In the south of Gaza, local paramedic and civil defense crews say they transported the bodies of 13 Palestinians who were slaughtered in mass killings after the occupation bombing of the town of Al-Qarara, north of Khan Yunis.

Violent raids continued when Zionist aircraft bombed central Abasan al-Kabira, east of Khan Yunis, in the south of the Gaza Strip, martyring two Palestinian civilians and wounding a number of others, while occupation warplanes also wrought massive destruction after bombing several multi-storied residential buildings in the Austrian neighborhood west of Khan Yunis.

The Zionist occupation army, including tanks, armored vehicles, and warplanes, have been hammering, with violent airstrikes and heavy artillery shelling, targeting various areas of Khan Yunis, with special attention paid to the eastern and western neighborhoods of the city, and also in the vicinity of Nasser Medical Complex.

Several firebelts were also launched by IOF fighter jets targeting the Khuza'a neighborhood, east of Khan Yunis, along with the Sufa and Abasan areas, northeast of the city.

It is also being reported that the number of dead as a result of the IOF bombing of the Abu Muammar family home in Rafah City, in southern Gaza, on Thursday morning has risen to 14.

The infinitely rising death toll resulting from "Israel's" war of genocide in the Gaza Strip has now exceeded 32'705 Palestinians killed, with more than 25'000 of the victims being women and children according to the United States Pentagon, while an additional 75'190 civilians have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression beginning on October 7th, 2023.

#source1

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#infographicsource

#videosource

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[afghanbarbie]

The sex-based apartheid against women in Afghanistan cannot be reduced to, "Afghan men saw Afghan women enjoying freedom and got mad, so they established extremist religious governments to stop it." I am really tired of seeing this misconception and oversimplification spread around by leftists, liberals and feminists – it's racist, and simply not fucking true.

The majority of Afghans want a secular government and for the oppression of women to end. The Taliban represent a minority of Afghanistan's people. The deterioration of Afghan society – in particular, women's rights and freedoms – directly results from decades of foreign intervention, imperialism and occupation. Afghans did not destroy Afghanistan, the United States did, and the USSR paved the way for them to do so.

Had Afghanistan never been treated like a pawn in the games played by imperialistic powers, had we not been reduced to resources, strategic importance and a tool for weakening the enemy, extremism would have never come to power.

An overview of Afghanistan's recent history:

The USSR wanted to incorporate Afghanistan into Soviet Central Asia and did so by sabotaging indigenous Afghan communist movements and replacing our leaders with those loyal to the USSR. The United States began funding and training Islamic extremists – the Mujahideen – to fight against the Soviet influence and subsequent invasion, and to help the CIA suppress any indigenous Afghan leftist movements. Those Mujahideen won the war, and then spent the next decade fighting for absolute control over Afghanistan.

During that time period, known as the Afghan Civil War, the Mujahideen became warlords, each enforcing their own laws on the regions they controlled. Kabul was nearly destroyed, and the chaos, destruction and death was largely ignored by the United States despite being the ones who caused and empowered it. This civil war era created the perfect, unstable environment needed to give a fringe but strong group like the Taliban a chance to rise to power. And after two decades of war, a singular entity taking control and bringing 'peace' was enticing to all Afghans, even if their views were objectively more extreme than what we had been enduring up to that point.

When the United States invaded Afghanistan in 2001, they allied with the same warlords that had been destroying our country the decade prior and whom they had rallied against the Soviets – these are the people that made up the Northern Alliance. The 'good guys' that America gave us were rapists, pillagers, and violent extremists, no better than the Taliban. And that's not even mentioning the horrible atrocities and war crimes committed by American forces themselves.

So, no, Afghan men did not collectively wake up one day and decide that women had too much freedom and rush to establish an extremist government overnight. No, this is not to excuse the misogyny of men in our society – the extremists had to already exist for Americans to fund and arm them against the Soviets – but rather to redirect the bulk of this racist blame to the actual culprits. The religious extremism and sex-based apartheid would not be oppressing and murdering us today if they hadn't been funded and supported by the United States of America thirty years ago. And despite all the abuses and restrictions, many Afghan women prefer the Taliban's current government to another American occupation. I felt safer walking in Taliban-controlled Kabul than I did being 'randomly searched' (sexually assaulted) by American military police in my village as a child.

Imperialism is inextricably linked with patriarchal violence and women's oppression. You cannot talk about the deterioration of Afghanistan without talking about the true cause of said decline: The United States of America. Americans of all political views, including leftists and feminists, are guilty of reducing or outright ignoring Western responsibility for female oppression in the Global South, finding it much easier to place all blame on the foreign brown man or our supposedly backwards, savage cultures, when the most responsibility belongs with Western governments and their meddling games that forced the most violent misogynists among us into power.

(Most of this information comes from my own experience living as an Afghan Hazara woman in Afghanistan, but Bleeding Afghanistan: Washington, Warlords and the Propaganda of Silence covers this in much more detail. If you want more on the Soviet-Afghan war and Afghanistan's socialist history, Revolutionary Afghanistan is an English-language source from a more leftist perspective)

[redsrooftopprincess]

Soldier (Part 1)

Fem Reader x Raphael

Warnings: Violence, Kidnapping, Suggested Assault

He's been fighting this fight since he was a kid, watching from the shadows, keeping the people of his city safe. Ensuring they can go about their nights unmolested, living boring middle-class civilian lives he could only dream of.

For a long time the bitterness of it consumed him. His teenage years were spent learning to navigate his rage. By his early twenties he'd reached a sort of acceptance. He wasn't happy, or even content, really, but he'd fallen into a comfortable routine and he wasn't quite ready to check out early just yet.

Wake up, check news, coffee w/ dad, check police reports, work out, team meeting, gear up, head out.

The city was his mission, his purpose.

Then he met you, and his mission changed.

Instead of checking the news before rolling out of bed, he started checking for texts from you. Instead of using his lifting time to work through problems and strategies, he uses it to think up excuses to visit. Instead of grabbing a quick cup of coffee at Casey and April's halfway through the night and getting back out on patrol, he sticks around, sometimes for hours, just to talk to you.

And he's grown used to it. To you. To the softness. And while he still goes out on patrol every night, he's started feeling less and less like his only purpose in life is protecting the city.

For the first time in his life, he feels like a person. A real person. And he loves it.

.

Two quick raps againt the metal door as Raphael strides casually into the lab, "Hey, you heard from (Y/N)?"

Donatello doesn't look up from the very tiny reclaimed motherboard he's working on. "Nope. Shit." He jerks his hand back as he singes himself on the soldering iron, cursing his oversized fingers. "Truth be told, I could use her help, too." He looks up at him, "Why?"

"I don't know. Just a feeling."

.

The first thing you notice is the fuzzy feeling in the back of your throat. Then the headache hits full force. Drugged. Your eyes blink open and you squint though the pain into a dimly lit warehouse. As you look around you, you're alone.

The boys have been trying to find the central location of a weapons trafficking ring, and while out today, you'd stumbled upon a lead. Was it really stupid of you to follow it with no communication and no back up? Yes. Are you are preemptively annoyed at Leo for the lecture you are rightfully going to receive later? Also, yes.

Ahead of you is a concrete wall about ten feet wide in blooming shades of sweat-stain yellow, the back of some kind of office, you imagine. Around it and you is an open warehouse filled with crates and equipment, and as the ringing in your ears subsides, you hear some kind of operation buzzing around on the other side of the wall.

You close your eyes as the world spins, and reach for your head with your hand. All you're offered in return is a sharp pain in your wrists. Zip ties. Okay, this is getting worse.

You know this. They coached you on this. It was one of the first things they did. Basic kidnapping protocol. They had a lot of enemies, and the second you laid eyes on them, you became a target.

"Assess the situation."

Once the dizziness passes, you open your eyes and try your legs. Ziptied to the chair legs. Your hands are tied to each other behind your back. Your bag is on the desk ten feet away with your phone peeking out of it. You can hear talking not too far away, but whoever they are is out of sight. In front of you is the wall, behind you is a large roll-up bay door.

"Find where they fucked up."

The chair legs are straight, and no one is watching. You tip the chair back, sliding the zip ties off the ends and looking around before standing as silently as you can. You step through the loop of your arms bringing them in front of you, breaking the hardware store brand zip ties the way they taught you.

"Stay low. Get creative."

You make it to the desk. A middle-aged white male with a patchy goatee stands on the other side of some crates. You manage to grab the strap of your bag and wait until he turns away to pull it toward you. You're careful not to change the location of the bag on the table, just turn it enough to knock your phone off the desk into your hand.

"Find a way to get to us. Even if it's just a phone call."

.

Raph's phone rings in his hand. He holds up and points to it before answering.

"Hey."

"Help me," you whisper into the phone as quietly as you can.

Your whisper is a siren, pulling all focus to the phone in his hand. He makes eye contact with Donatello, who stands as his brother tenses.

"Where are you?" He puts the phone on speaker and sets on the table in front of him. He leans in, straining to hear you.

"I don't know.... I'm in a warehouse, but that could be literally anywhere."

"Describe it." Donnie interjects, striding over to the table, you hesitate. "The smallest detail will help. Don't just use your eyes."

You take one last glance around and close your eyes. You breathe deep. Salt. Iron. The silence of a wide open outside, not the cramped streets of the city.

"The Yard. I'm in a warehouse at the Navy Yard." You look around, the new information providing context, "It looks old. Rusted through in some places. I'm-"

You scream as your violently pulled out from under the desk by your upper arm.

"(Y/N)!!!" Raphael roars, bracing against the table.

As you're being dragged to your feet, you kick your phone under one of the taller stacks of crates. The boys listen as you're tossed, unceremoniously, back into the metal discount party supply chair, and backhanded across the face for emphasis.

The force of the blow nearly knocks you out of the chair, but as you right yourself, you're laughing.

"What the fuck is so funny?" Shitty goatee demands, his fetid breath washing over you. Why can't bad guys brush their teeth? It's basic hygiene.

You grin up at him through bloody teeth, that even now are probably cleaner than his, "There's been a trace running on that call from the moment they picked up."

"Shit." He says, annoyed. He sends a couple lackeys over to move the crates.

"Won't do any good," you call over, "they probably already have your location by now."

"Why? Who did you call?" The man demands.

You blink up at him. He doesn't know? So you were kidnapped by just a normal... everyday asshole...?

Oh, this poor, dumb bastard.

"Just a couple friends of mine," you say casually as your grin widens, "They're gonna tear you apart."

The man straightens and looks down at you with a disgusting smile. "Listen, bitch. With the amount of firepower in this building, I can't wait to see 'em try."

You look over at the guys trying to move the crates and get to the phone. The man takes that opportunity to grab you roughly by the hair and throw you down against the concrete.

"In the meantime..."

Seventeen seconds. That's how long it takes to find a location. That's how long he listens them hurt you.

.

Soldier keep on marchin' on

Head down 'til the work is done

Waiting on that morning sun

Soldier keep on marchin' on

Head in the dust, feet in the fire

Labour on that midnight wire

Listening for that angel choir

You got nowhere to run

You wanna take a drink of that promise land

You gotta wipe the dirt off of your hands

Careful son, you got dreamer's plans

But it gets hard to stand

Soldier keep on marchin' on

Head down 'til the work is done

Waiting on that morning sun

Soldier keep on marchin' on

Quiet now, you're gonna wake the beast

Hide your soul out of his reach

Shiver to that broken beat

Dark into the heat

Soldier keep on marchin' on

Head down 'til the work is done

Waiting on that morning sun

Soldier keep on marchin' on

Soldier keep on marchin' on

Soldier, Fleurie and Tommee Profitt

.

Tag List:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @footninja

[newsmrl]

जानिए क्या है 1990 से असम में लागु AFSPA, जिसे वापस लेने का प्लान बना रहे असम के सीएम

1990 से असम में लागु विवादास्पद कानून AFSPA सुरक्षा बलों को कार्रवाई करने और बिना वारंट के किसी को भी गिरफ्तार करने का अधिकार देता है। इसके अलावा, किसी की गोली मारकर हत्या कर देने पर यह कानून सुरक्षा बलों को गिरफ्तारी और मुकदमे से छूट देता है। असम को नवंबर, 1990 में AFSPA के तहत अशांत क्षेत्र घोषित किया गया था। तभी से इसे हर छह महीने में बढ़ाया जाता रहा है। मुख्यमंत्री सरमा सोमवार को कमांडेंट…

[phenakistoskope]

i'll be honest, i don't understand why it's so surprising to people that hindus commit various forms of violence in bengal, where violence against muslims is a routine occurrence.

what was surprising to me is that the vegetarians in question aren't vegetarians at all, they were simply dabbling in vegetarianism to celebrate ram navami; the couple who called the police and the woman cooking the fish are all bengalis of similar background, they are intimately aware of each others cultural tendencies.

and the really strange part is that the police actually responded to this on a day that is quite busy for them, to quote from the article:

In the past few years, West Bengal has not only witnessed huge participation in events related to Ram Navami and Hanuman Jayanti, but also reported several untoward incidents. Last year violence was reported at Rishra in Hooghly district as well as in Howrah. Central forces were deployed in several sensitive areas on Hanuman Jayanti after judicial intervention. On March 30 last year, violence broke out during a Ram Navami procession in Dalkhola in North Dinajpur district. The police initially booked 162 people in the wake of communal violence triggered by an attack at Tajamul Chawk, Uttar Dalkhola. On March 26 in 2018, clashes were reported during a Ram Navami procession at Raniganj in West Bardhaman district. One person was killed and several police officers were injured. Asansol-Durgapur Deputy Commissioner of Police Arindam Dutta Chowdhury was attacked with a bomb and he lost his hand in the attack. The tension then spread to Asansol. The police also recovered the body of a Muslim man who was killed allegedly in communal violence. Around 60 people were arrested in the case. A day before that, on March 25, 2018, a statue of freedom fighter Maulana Abul Kalam Azad was pulled down and a man was killed, following an armed Ram Navami procession at Kankinara in North 24 Parganas district’s Bhatpara municipality.

[edunative]

Central Armed Police Forces CAPF (AC)

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[txttletale]

hi I've been following you for a while and I had some questions about MLism. First, while I think I have a decent understanding of how it works economically, how would a ML government (after the revolution) ensure it doesn't become too powerful? like what systems would be put in place so that it hears public opinion and dissent (should there be any) and not try to maintain power through oppressive means?

Secondly, what would the aftermath of the revolution look like? once the government is overthrown, there will most likely be a period of instability where different factions trying to sieze control. How would the MLs make sure that they get seated in power?

I am genuinely trying to learn more about it, so I'm sorry if those questions are ignorant. Thanks!

i mean, that first part? i'll be completely honest with you and say that in my opinion that's a partially unsolved problem. i think that lenin's prescriptions in state & revolution, based on the actions of the paris commune--that all 'officials' should be subject to democratic recall at any time and paid no more than anyone else--would be a good start.

but of course the USSR did not ossify and see abuses of power because its leaders simply forgot about what lenin wrote--the centralization of power and limiting of worker democracy was a direct result of the newly formed state apparatus having to fight brutal years-long civil war followed as mere decade later by a brutal years-long international invasion. & this is of course a situation that will be faced by any serious socialist government & their newly formed apparatus!

however, on the other hand -- cuba has succesfully maintained an incredible system of participatory democracy. i think that mao's idea of the 'mass line' -- that theory must constantly be in dialogue with the situation on the ground and the situation of the workers -- is vital to maintaining this. in its own time of crisis, during the 90s, instead of 'pulling the ladder up' on workers' councils, cuba expanded and doubled down on its participatory democracy. i think if any nation has succesfully followed lenin's theory and example, it's cuba, and the mass workplace and municipal democracy that the cuban communist party has invited should be the model for any future socialist revolution.

and quite frankly the reason why MLs will 'take power' after the revolution is because marxism-leninism is the only revolutionary socialist ideology with a plan and ability to take and maintain power over the bourgeoisie. i think one thing reading lenin will very much clarify is that the socialist state is not something that is built after the revolution but a continuation of the revolution -- lenin explains aptly the marxist position that, having taken up arms in order to dethrone the bourgeoisie, to not establish a marxist dictatorship of the proletariat is to throw aside those arms that have already been wielded and used. 'not setting up a worker's state' isn't inaction, but a deliberate choice to be disarmed and helpless in the face of foreign intervention or counterrevolution.

and this is also why i think that while solving the (very real and dangerous!) spectres of bureaucracy, of revisionism, of socialist militias becoming police forces "special bodies of men apart from and above" the people instead of "self-acting armed organizations" of the people is a vital and pressing question for marxism-leninism to address in both theory and practice, it is just as vital to note that only marxism-leninism can succeed to the point where this becomes a problem--only marxism-leninism has shown the historical ability to put the workers in a position of political supremacy that they might risk losing to these flaws and missteps.

& seriously, don't be sorry for asking questions. any questions in good faith are welcomed on this blog, because i'm a communist and i do in fact think it is my job to explain communism to people. have a nice day & don't be so down on yourself!

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (part 7) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names) Genre: modern AU, slow burn word count: 5.6k notes: I can't wait for your opinions on this one

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649 @luffysprincess

‘Kaz’

‘Baby’

‘Love’

‘What??’ he replied to the flood of messages.

‘AC is broken’

Kaz hesitated, staring at the screen, then he typed ‘Yes’

‘:)’

Half an hour later, y/n arrived at his house, looking visibly relieved. “Oh saints, I can breathe again,” she exclaimed, collapsing onto the couch. “It’s a centralized problem. The whole building is hot as hell.”

Kaz went back to type on his computer at the kitchen table, glancing up briefly. “Did they say how much time before it works again?”

“No,” she sighed, sinking further into the cushions. “I’m on forced leave from work.”

“You sound almost sad,” he chuckled, his eyes flickering back to the screen.

“I am. You have no idea of the interesting booking I had,” she said, turning to look at him. “Do you want to know what he asked for?”

“I think I’ll live better without knowing,” he replied, smirking.

“Boring.” y/n pulled out her phone and started watching TikToks, her occasional laughter punctuating the silence.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, both absorbed in their screens. The rhythmic tapping of Kaz's keyboard mixed with the occasional burst of sound from y/n's videos. 

After some time, Kaz broke the silence. “I have to work after dinner.”

“You have the weirdest work schedule,” she commented, glancing up. “Do you want me to make dinner?”

“We can order something,” he suggested, not looking up from his screen.

“I’ll cook.” y/n got up and opened his fridge, surveying its contents. “You know that you could eat something other than meat?” she said, studying the shelves.

“I think I have ice cream too,” he shrugged.

“So healthy,” she commented dryly, closing the fridge. “Is there a supermarket nearby?”

“Yep.”

“I’m going,” she announced.

Kaz stared at her, a small grin playing on his lips. y/n sighed, already knowing what he wanted. “It’s in my bag, take it.”

Kaz closed his laptop and settled onto the couch, pulling her Nintendo Switch from the bag. “Why don’t you just buy one?” she asked, not truly annoyed.

“Because I would develop an addiction. Speaking of, take the keys. I won’t get up to open the door even if you arrive with the police,” he replied, already engrossed in the game.

y/n muttered something about him being a child before taking his keys and heading out.

When she returned, y/n put on some music and started cooking, dancing around the kitchen between cupboards and stoves. Kaz occasionally shouted at the game, clearly immersed. The atmosphere in the apartment was light and relaxed.

“Have you been using my vape?” y/n asked, suddenly annoyed.

“No.”

“It’s empty.”

“Maybe it has a leak,” he suggested, not raising his eyes from the game. y/n cupped his face and turned it towards her, leaning in to smell his breath.

“You smell like cherries, you dirty liar. After all your venting about how smoking is bad?” y/n accused, her eyes narrowing playfully.

Kaz laughed, trying to maintain his focus on the screen. “Shut up, you’re distracting me.”

“Oh, I’m distracting you?” she shot back, crossing her arms. “Who was it that went on a twenty-minute rant about how terrible smoking is for your lungs, your heart, your—"

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he interrupted, his fingers flying over the buttons.

“And here you are, sneaking hits off my vape,” y/n continued, her tone teasing, “you even put it back in my bag to hide your tracks, just give up and buy one.”

“No, smoking is bad,” Kaz replied firmly, though his eyes never left the screen.

y/n let out an exasperated sigh. “Unbelievable.” 

y/n was done cooking and sighed as she saw Kaz completely engrossed in her game, sitting on the couch with no intention of moving. "Kaz, come on don’t be a child."

Kaz, eyes glued to the screen, mumbled, "Just one more level, I promise."

Rolling her eyes, y/n decided it was time for drastic measures. With a mischievous glint, she leaned over and swiftly snatched the console from his hands. “Hey!” he protested, reaching out to grab it back.

“Nope, you’ve had enough,” she declared, holding the console high above her head.

Kaz jumped up from the couch, trying to reclaim his—well, hers—gaming device. “Give it back, y/n! I was about to beat my high score.”

She laughed, stepping back and keeping the console out of his reach. “No.”

He lunged forward, and they began a playful tussle. y/n darted around the coffee table, and Kaz followed, both of them laughing. “You’re not getting away that easily,” he teased, reaching out to grab her waist.

She squealed, spinning out of his grasp and holding the console behind her back. “You’ll have to catch me first!”

Kaz paused, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Come on, my leg is already killing me today.”

“Then give up,” she laughed.

He feigned to the left, then quickly moved to the right, catching y/n by surprise. She tried to dodge, but he was quicker, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her off the ground.

“Put me down!” she laughed, kicking her feet in the air.

“I don’t care if I break my leg again, you’re giving it back,” he replied, twirling her around.

She clung to the device, laughing uncontrollably. “Okay, okay, you win!” she conceded, handing it over.

Kaz gently set her down, keeping a firm grip on the console. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She playfully swatted his arm. “You’re a child.”

He chuckled, slipping the console into his back pocket. “And you’re annoying.”

They stood there for a moment, both catching their breath and smiling at each other. y/n shook her head, still laughing. “I’m going to cancel your game’s data.”

“There’s no need to get violent,” he said, offended, while they headed to the table. Kaz’s mouth watered at the sight and smell of the food.

“You cook really well for someone who hates eating,” Kaz said with his mouth half full.

“Rude, but thank you,” y/n replied with a smile, her fork tracing patterns on her plate.

Kaz stared at her, his gaze lingering a bit too long. 

y/n noticed and rolled her eyes. “Kaz, don’t look at me like that. If you say something about my relationship with food, I’m so going to remind you that you have a girlfriend and that I’m a prostitute.”

“We’re just eating,” he mumbled, trying to justify himself and feeling really guilty. He was still mad at Inej for postponing her visit, and he knew that he and y/n were playing with the boundaries that should exist in their relationship. 

He tried to focus on his plate, but his thoughts kept drifting. Maybe in that moment, it could look like an innocent dinner, a friend helping out a friend even, but later? When they would inevitably share a bed, without any payment beforehand? Or when he would book her for another session?

Kaz's mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions. He knew he should feel loyal to Inej, but he was still frustrated that she wasn’t there, and y/n had a way of making everything seem so easy.

y/n seemed to sense his turmoil. She put her fork down and reached out, touching his hand lightly.

“Are you feeling bad?”

“Yes,” Kaz admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” y/n replied with a small smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

He couldn't help but laugh, despite himself. “Fuck off.”

Kaz came back home later than he thought, plus, he took an unexpected punch in the eye that hurt like a bitch. He saw a dim light and soft talking coming from his room.

“Are you having fun on your trip?” he heard y/n's voice, but couldn't make out the answer. However, he heard her laugh.

Kaz peeked into his room, and y/n smiled at him, “It's my grandma,” she said, gesturing to the phone.

“Are you with a boy, sweetie?”

“I'm with a… friend,” she replied.

“Show him to me.”

“No,” she laughed.

“Is he ugly?”

“Grandma! No,” replied y/n, Kaz raised a brow, leaning on the doorframe, now very interested.

“Is he hot or is he cute?”

Kaz raised his brows even more, waiting for her answer.

“Don’t you have something to do? What happened to your face?” y/n narrowed her eyes to look better at him.

“Just a punch,” he shrugged before disappearing into the bathroom.

Kaz could still hear pieces of the conversation from her side. “No, Grandma, we're not sleeping together… My AC is broken… No, I didn't break it on purpose… Yes, he's cute… It's 4 am here!... Have a nice day, I love you.”

He took his spot in the bed as y/n put away her phone. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, my grandma is on one of those old-people-travels on the other side of the world and wanted to talk to me about her new crush. I was sleeping so well,” she said, leaning back into the pillows.

“Her new crush? How old is she?” he asked skeptically, taking the console she had left on his side.

“In her seventies. She’s a bit wild.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” he commented.

Kaz settled into the bed, gingerly touching his bruised eye. y/n was leaning against the headboard, her phone still warm from the call with her grandmother.

“Who punched you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she studied the bruise.

“An idiot,” Kaz replied, his voice laced with irritation.

“Hmm, he might have his reason. You're very punchable.” y/n’s lips curled into a teasing smile.

Kaz snorted, feeling a bit defensive. “It wasn’t my fault this time.” He rubbed his temples, the stress of the day catching up to him. The lingering ache from the unexpected punch added to his irritation.

y/n rolled her eyes playfully, nudging him with her shoulder. “Sure, it wasn’t.”

“I’m sending you back to your house,” he said, his tone half-serious, as he stretched his legs out, trying to ease the tension that had settled in his muscles.

“I’m taking back my Switch,” she shot back, snatching the console from his side with a triumphant grin.

Kaz’s hand shot out in a playful attempt to reclaim it, but she was quicker, holding it out of his reach. “Go to sleep,” he said, exasperated but amused, his frustration easing into a faint smile as they bantered.

“Do you want a kiss to make the pain go away?” she said with a dangerous smile.

Kaz sighed, a mix of annoyance and fondness tugging at him. “Are you a healer now?”

“I can be a lot of things,” she teased, her tone light and playful.

“Stop flirting with me,” he replied, though the teasing glint in his eyes softened his words.

“Alright,” y/n turned on her side, settling into the playful rhythm of their exchanges.

Kaz battled with himself for a moment, then gave in to the pull he felt towards her. He pulled her closer, their bodies fitting comfortably together.

“Maybe it’s worth a try, it hurts really bad,” he muttered against her neck, his voice muffled.

“Kaz, are you whining?” she asked, laughter dancing in her tone as she turned to face him. Her eyes met his, a hint of mischief in their depths.

He huffed in mock indignation, a playful glint in his eyes. “I'm not whining,” he protested lightly, but the corners of his mouth betrayed a smirk.

The girl's gaze lingered on his waiting lips, a teasing smile playing on her own. With a deliberate slowness, she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his temple. Kaz responded with an annoyed hum, his eyebrow quirking in response to her playful gesture.

“What? Were you expecting more?” she asked, raising a brow mischievously, her eyes flickering with amusement.

Kaz tilted his head, feigning contemplation. “I don’t know, maybe a little more sympathy?” he teased, his tone light despite the heaviness of their unspoken tension.

“Oh my poor baby, come here,” she playfully pulled him closer, her arms wrapping around him and messing with his hair.

He leaned into the contact, closing his eyes briefly and allowing himself a moment of comfort in her embrace.

“You’re so clingy, Kaz,” she commented after a while, her voice light with teasing. “Who knew you had it in you?”

“I’m not,” he retorted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“And you’re also delusional,” she added playfully, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on his back.

“Shut up,” he replied softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself.

“Are you this annoying with your girlfriend too?” she teased gently, the question hanging in the air.

“She’s not paid to spend time with me,” Kaz replied, his tone tinged with seriousness.

“I’m not working tonight,” she reminded him gently, her fingers stilling on his back, their closeness emphasizing the unspoken boundaries between them.

Kaz nodded silently, the weight of their complicated relationship settling over them once more. He knew their moments together existed in a fragile balance, a delicate dance between companionship and something more undefined.

Kaz hated how peaceful he felt, how badly he craved the normalcy of their interactions, the lightness. Every time Inej would come back, it was like they had to learn to adjust to each other again. And when they were finally comfortable, she would leave again. While he fell asleep, Jesper's words kept echoing through his mind: “You're playing house with a hooker.” He couldn't be more right.

He couldn't ignore the transactional nature of their relationship, the blurred boundaries that came with it. Yet, there was something genuine in the way she looked at him, in the way she laughed at his jokes, in the way she cared.

He couldn't deny that he was playing a dangerous game, one that could hurt everyone involved. But in the quiet moments, when it was just the two of them, it felt almost normal. It felt like he had someone who understood him.

As he finally drifted off to sleep, Kaz couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He knew he was betraying Inej. The emotional connection he was forming with y/n was real, and it scared him.

When Kaz woke up the next morning, y/n wasn't there. In the kitchen, he found breakfast ready and a note: “Didn't want to wake you, I have to go. Thanks again for yesterday.”

He went on with his day, wondering if the AC at y/n's house had been fixed or not. He knew he wasn't supposed to think about it, that he wasn't supposed to hope that she would write to him again. But at some point, he gave in.

‘How's the AC?’ he texted.

‘Still broken,’ she replied.

Kaz was unsure of what to do. Rationally, he knew that he shouldn't have even texted her.

‘Don’t worry, I'm staying with a friend,’ she sent, like she was reading his mind. He was a bit annoyed, more than he let himself admit.

‘Guess I'll find others Switch and vape,’ he replied, a bit unjustifiably bitter.

‘Ask your girlfriend,’ she retorted. Kaz sighed; he deserved it.

As he put his phone down, Kaz couldn't shake off the unease. He knew his connection with y/n was treading dangerous waters, but he also couldn't deny how much he enjoyed her presence, the effortless way she fit into his life. He leaned back, trying to focus on work, but his mind kept drifting back to y/n. He knew it was wrong, but for the first time in a long time, he felt something akin to happiness.

***

A few days later, Kaz was waiting for y/n to pick him up since she finally got her driving license back, thanks to one of her clients who pulled a few strings, and she wanted to show him her bright new Mini Cooper. She sent him a picture of her outside his house. Kaz was gathering his things when a series of messages got his focus.

‘SHE'S HERE.’

‘INEJ IS HERE.’

‘SHE'S ENTERING THE BUILDING.’

Kaz froze, looking out of the window, he saw the Mini make an illegal turn and speed away. 

He was still paralyzed when Inej opened his door. “Surprise!” she said brightly.

“Nej! What are you doing here?” Kaz hoped he sounded happy, while the adrenaline of being almost caught made his heart race. He moved to hug her, unsure of how to seem natural. Since when was he so bad at concealing his thoughts?

Inej started talking about how he was right, that she had been unfair with him, but his mind was focused on how close she had been to seeing him getting into y/n’s car. Kaz had no idea what kind of excuse he could've come up with.

“Sorry, were you going somewhere?” Inej noticed how he was actually ready to leave.

“Just a work thing. Let me make a phone call and cancel,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Kaz went to his room to call y/n, who answered from the speaker of the car with a series of curses. “That was so fucking close, I'm so sorry, love.”

“It’s not your fault, great timing by the way,” he said, his words leaving a bitterness in his mouth. He couldn't believe that his girlfriend was in the other room, and he was calling another girl to talk about how close they got to getting caught together. What kind of person was he becoming? Kaz leaned against the wall of his room, the phone still warm in his hand, and stared at the ceiling. The situation felt surreal, like he was watching someone else's life unravel. How had he ended up here?

“Shut up, my legs are still wobbly. Enjoy your evening and don't take her to that place with the rooftop pool; my boyfriend is taking me there.”

He snorted. “The old man?”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend to annoy?” she laughed. “Get lost, Kaz. See you soon,” she said before ending the call. He stood there a second more, then typed ‘Be careful’ and hit send.

Kaz took a deep breath, steadying himself before rejoining Inej. He plastered on a smile, hoping it looked genuine. The weight of his deceit pressed heavily on him, and as Inej continued talking about her recent travels, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was spiraling into something he couldn't control.

“Why do you have vegan ice cream?” Inej asked, puzzled, as she rummaged through Kaz’s freezer.

Kaz’s heart skipped a beat. “Fuck,” he thought, the image of y/n flashing through his mind. He had completely forgotten about that.

“It was on sale,” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant, though the slight hitch in his voice betrayed him.

Inej raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “You’re always saying that being vegan is stupid. Who are you, and what did you do to my boyfriend?” She laughed, stepping closer and pulling him into a light kiss.

“If she only knew,” Kaz thought, guilt gnawing at him. 

***

Kaz and Inej fell into a comfortable routine, with Inej practically moving in with him. She only went to her house every few days, which should have felt like a step forward in their relationship. Yet, Kaz couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Despite his progress with his touch aversion, which he had always seen as a significant hurdle, Inej seemed uncomfortable with the changes. Every time they were in his car, he had to force himself not to touch her. This was something he had never imagined possible, because for him, it had become a habit to drive with his hand on y/n's thigh. But Inej kept shoving him away.

Of course, Kaz knew that Inej had her own issues with physical contact, stemming from her traumatic past. He understood that her boundaries were there for a reason, and he respected them. However, he couldn’t help but feel that his issues were more pressing on their relationship, more in need of resolution. He had worked so hard to overcome his aversion, thinking it would bring them closer. They had started holding hands and sharing the same bed, but Inej wasn’t as clingy as he discovered himself to be.

Doubts began to cloud Kaz's mind. Maybe if he hadn’t sought a quicker way to solve his problems, he would have been more at peace now. But would he, really? The ability to remain calm when someone accidentally brushed against him wasn’t exactly a bad thing. It was progress. But he wondered if he had pushed too much with y/n. Had he relied on her too heavily to guide him through his issues? He had just wanted to be the right person for Inej, but now he started feeling like he had gotten it all wrong.

He recalled the late-night conversations with y/n, the way she had encouraged him to face his fears, to push his limits. It felt good, liberating even. But now, with Inej beside him, those same actions felt like betrayals. Inej’s discomfort was palpable, and it made Kaz question everything. Was he really doing this for her, or was it for himself? Had his need to fix himself overshadowed the essence of their relationship? When exactly did he stop doing it for Inej and started doing it for himself?

Kaz’s mind was a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. He had always believed that conquering his touch aversion would be the key to a more intimate, more fulfilling relationship with Inej. But now, with her subtle rejections, he felt more distant from her than ever. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, to reassure her, but every touch seemed to push her further away.

As he lay in bed beside Inej, Kaz couldn’t help but think about how different things were with y/n. It was intoxicating, but it also made him feel guilty. He had sought out y/n to fix his problems, but now he realized that the solutions she offered might not be compatible with his life with Inej.

Kaz rolled over, staring at the ceiling. He needed to find a balance, a way to reconcile the progress he had made with his need to respect Inej’s boundaries. He had to stop doubting himself and start focusing on what truly mattered: being there for Inej in the way she needed, not the way he thought she needed. It was a daunting task, but Kaz knew it was the only way to salvage their relationship.

All of Kaz’s good ideas and resolve dissolved into a murky cloud of confusion as he found himself slipping out of bed and quietly getting into his car. The drive was eerily silent, matching the turmoil in his mind. He parked nearby and waited, feeling foolish with each passing minute. The neighborhood suddenly filled with the blare of loud music, and Kaz’s heart lurched as he saw y/n’s Mini Cooper turn the corner at an alarming speed, brakes squealing in protest. He watched, almost in disbelief, as she parked somewhat haphazardly, and she and her friends stumbled out of the car, leaning on each other for support. y/n lingered a moment longer than the others, retrieving something from under her seat.

Kaz approached quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “y/n,” he called out.

Startled, she turned, a frown creasing her features. “Are you drunk? You just got your license back,” Kaz blurted out, unable to stop himself.

y/n sighed, “I’m just a bit tipsy.”

“What happened to that light?” Kaz gestured towards the damaged light on her car.

“Why the fuck are you here, Kaz? Where’s your girlfriend?” Her annoyance was palpable.

Guilt flooded Kaz. “I… She’s sleeping. At my house.”

y/n raised her brows in surprise. “Kaz, why are you here?”

Avoiding her gaze, Kaz struggled to find an answer. He had no clear explanation for his impulsive decision. “She’s… She’s not you,” he finally admitted, the words heavy with admission.

y/n’s face hardened, her arms crossing defensively. “Yeah, are you here to remind me?”

“No, I—” Kaz faltered, unable to voice the thoughts that had been swirling in his mind for days.

“What?” y/n’s tone was sharp, demanding.

Taking a deep breath, Kaz finally gathered his courage. “I want you.”

y/n looked down, shaking her head slightly. “No, you don’t,” she replied coldly, her voice cutting through the night air. “y/n, let me explain—”

“Explain what?” She interrupted him, her tone laced with bitterness. “You don’t know me, Kaz. You want what we have when you pay for it, because I’m a whore and you’re my client.”

“That’s not true, y/n—”

“It is true,” she insisted, her voice hardening. “You don’t want me, trust me. Fuck, Kaz, I told you ages ago that if you were catching feelings for me we should’ve stopped.” She ran a hand through her hair, frustration evident.

Kaz felt anger building inside him, fueled by frustration and a sense of injustice. His words were sharp, a challenge to y/n, cutting through the air with an intensity that matched the turmoil in his heart.

“Oh yeah, because I’m the only one here who crossed boundaries, right? Look at me and tell me that you don’t feel anything.” Kaz’s voice held a mix of accusation and desperation. He locked eyes with y/n, searching for any sign of affirmation or denial, needing validation that what he felt wasn't one-sided.

y/n hesitated, her eyes clouding with a fleeting mixture of emotions—sadness, uncertainty, and something Kaz couldn't quite decipher. Her hesitation spoke volumes, a pause filled with unspoken truths and conflicted feelings.

Kaz held his ground, waiting for her response, hoping against hope that she would reveal what he yearned to hear. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and the weight of their complicated situation.

When y/n finally spoke, her voice carried a hint of vulnerability beneath its usual composure. "You don’t know me," she repeated, her words laced with a touch of sadness, less firm than before.

After y/n's words hung in the air, Kaz felt a knot tighten in his chest. Her raw honesty pierced through his defenses, forcing him to confront uncomfortable truths he had been avoiding.

“I want to know you,” Kaz insisted softly, his voice a whisper of vulnerability amidst the tension.

“No, you don’t! Let’s be serious, Kaz,” y/n's tone sharpened with frustration, her eyes holding a mix of defiance and pain. “We do this. We get together, we go on dates, how long before you ask me to leave my job?”

Her words hit Kaz like a blow to the gut. He knew she was right. The thought of y/n continuing her work while they pursued something deeper had always nagged at him, buried beneath his desire for closeness and intimacy. Yet, facing her accusation head-on made it all too real.

“How long before it makes you lose it and become like my ex-boyfriend, beating the shit out of me?” y/n’s voice quivered with the weight of her past, her fear palpable in the air between them.

Kaz's heart clenched at the mention of her ex-boyfriend, a reminder of the darkness y/n had escaped and the wounds she still carried. He couldn't bear the thought of causing her more pain, of becoming a source of anguish rather than solace.

He wanted to argue, to assure her that he was different, that he would never hurt her. But the truth lingered in the back of his mind, unspoken yet undeniable. Deep down, he knew y/n was right. He couldn't ignore the unease he felt about her profession, about the risks and compromises it entailed.

As y/n stood before him, her vulnerability laid bare, Kaz struggled to find the words to express the turmoil inside him. Admitting that he couldn’t accept her job felt like a betrayal of everything y/n represented—an independent spirit, unapologetically herself.

But he also couldn’t deny the growing ache in his chest, the longing to protect her from harm, even if it meant sacrificing the connection they shared. It was a choice he wasn’t ready to make, yet one that loomed over their fragile bond.

“I would never—” Kaz began, his voice tinged with hurt and frustration.

“He said that too,” y/n cut in sharply, her words a stark reminder of past betrayals and broken promises. Kaz winced, feeling the weight of her accusation like a punch to the gut. He wanted to protest, to defend himself against the comparison to her ex-boyfriend, but y/n’s pain was palpable, and he couldn’t deny its validity.

“y/n, let me just—” Kaz attempted to interject, but his words faltered as he struggled to find the right words to bridge the widening gap between them. His mind raced, grappling with the realization that his actions had inadvertently pushed y/n away, reinforcing her fears and insecurities.

In that charged moment, Kaz saw y/n not just as the confident and alluring woman he had grown close to, but also as someone who carried deep scars from a past he hadn’t fully understood. He had prided himself on being different, on offering her a haven from the shadows of her past, yet now he saw how fragile that sanctuary had become.

“y/n,” Kaz began again, his voice softer now, tinged with regret. “I never meant to—”

“Save it, Kaz,” y/n cut him off, her tone weary yet resolute. “You can’t change who you are any more than I can change who I am.”

She stepped closer, her hand brushing his hair gently. “Go back to your girlfriend, love. Or break up with her if you don’t want her anymore. It wouldn’t work between us.”

“Why do you think that?” Kaz whispered, his hands trembling slightly as they found their way to y/n’s waist, pulling her closer against him. His heart raced with a mixture of longing and fear, the weight of his words heavy on his tongue. He could feel y/n’s warmth against him, a tangible reminder of the connection they shared, yet he feared it might slip away forever.

“Tell me that you’re not happy with me,” Kaz continued softly, his voice cracking with emotion. “Tell me that it’s all a facade, all fake, and I’ll leave and never look for you again.”

His words hung in the air, a desperate plea wrapped in vulnerability. Kaz knew that admitting his feelings meant risking everything—his relationship with Inej, his self-image, and the fragile bond he had formed with y/n. Yet, in that moment, all he could think about was the uncertainty of their future and the ache of wanting something he might never have.

y/n’s eyes searched his face, her expression unreadable as she weighed his words. Kaz held his breath, waiting for her response, knowing that whatever came next would change everything.

“You can’t give me what I want,” she murmured sadly, a wistful smile on her lips. “I like my life, the freedom of it. I don’t want to change it. And you shouldn’t change yourself, not for Inej, but even more, not for me. You two are legends, Kaz. What you did for each other, all the fears you overcame for her, the—”

Kaz cut her off, unable to bear another moment of uncertainty. He pressed his lips firmly against hers, a desperate attempt to drown out the doubts and fears that threatened to consume him. y/n responded instantly, her hands sliding to the back of his neck, pulling him closer in a mix of longing and hesitation.

He guided her a few steps back, maneuvering until she was pressed between his body and her car. Their kiss deepened, a passionate exchange that spoke volumes without words. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist for Kaz. All that mattered was the taste of her lips, the feel of her body against his, and the undeniable pull between them.

For a heartbeat, everything felt right, like they belonged in each other's arms. But beneath the surface of their heated embrace, Kaz couldn't shake the weight of y/n's earlier words. He knew their connection was fraught with complications, tangled in emotions and circumstances that threatened to unravel any semblance of stability.

Yet, as he held her close, Kaz couldn't deny the intensity of what he felt. It was more than physical attraction; it was a yearning for understanding, for connection, for something deeper than he had ever allowed himself to explore before.

But as quickly as their passion ignited, y/n pulled back, leaving Kaz momentarily stunned and breathless. Her eyes searched his, a mix of sadness and resolve shining through.

“Go away,” she whispered, her voice tinged with sadness. “Go back to your girlfriend and forget about me.”

Kaz nodded slowly, as if emerging from a dream. “Don’t ever ask me again to be the better person,” she continued, her voice flat yet determined. “If I ever find you here again, I won’t stop you. I won’t hesitate. I will let you do whatever you want. And I won’t care. I’ll move on with my life. But you will regret it, trust me.”

Her words hung between them, stark and undeniable. Kaz felt a knot tighten in his chest, a mix of guilt, regret, and a profound sense of loss. He had pushed too far, crossed boundaries he shouldn't have, and now he faced the consequences of his actions.

With a final nod, Kaz turned and walked back to his car, each step heavy with the weight of uncertainty and regret.

[sansculottides]

"Workers, do not be deceived: it is the great struggle: parasitism and labor, exploitation and production are at death-grips. If you are sick or vegetating in ignorance and squatting in the muck; if you want your children to be men gaining the reward of their labor, not a sort of animal trained for the workshop and for war, fertilizing with its sweat the fortune of an exploiter, or pouring out its blood for a despot; if you want the daughters whom you cannot bring up and watch over as you would, to be no longer instruments of pleasure in the arms of the aristocracy of wealth; if you want debauch and poverty no longer to drive men to the police and women to prostitution; if, finally, you desire the reign of justice, workers, be intelligent, arise! And let your stout hands fling beneath your feet the foul reaction! ...Long live the Republic! Long live the Commune!"

--Statement of the Central Committee of the National Guard of the Paris commune on April 5, 1871.

The National Guard of the Commune was not the same as the old government's army that defended bourgeois interest; the National Guard of the Commune consisted of the workingmen of Paris. Their officers and Central Committee were democratically elected and subject to recall if they lost the confidence of the people.

The Paris Commune started today, March 18, in 1871. At the time the working people of Paris were driven to poverty and starvation by the war with Prussia. On this day in 1871 the people of Paris--especially women and children--chased out the bourgeois government, who ran away pitifully with their tails between their legs to Versailles, leaving the city to the control of its workers. The workers of Paris established their own government that sought not to merely address urgent and base concerns such as hunger, rent, and unemployment, but also to found a kinder society by radicalizing institutions such as education or the concept of the family. It was the first attempt at a workers' state in history.

The Commune lasted for only 72 days, when the French government violently and ruthlessly crushed it. They brutally massacred the workers in the event that is known as Bloody Week. Historian Donny Gluckstein wrote: "Bloody Week was a graphic example of a capitalist state stripped to its bare essentials--'armed bodies of men'--exterminating a threat to the system of domination and exploitation." Paris suffered a labor shortage after this massacre.

We remember the Paris Commune, its principles, and its battle. Even today we sing the Internationale, a product of that relentless hopeful spirit of the Commune and its people who dared to believe a kinder world was possible--if only we fight for it.

Picture is the Communards Wall at the Père Lachaise Cemetery, where workers of the Commune were killed by bourgeois forces. People still leave flowers every year.