#I doubt they would have actually done so. but according to my course's policies they could have

[neon-angels-system]

one of the people I'm working on a group project with tried to put AI-generated images into our presentation. I've been procrastinating so I only caught it today. two days before said presentation. the images have been there for five days. how did none of the other group members pick up on this. the images were supposed to be diagrams. none of the labels made sense. I'm going to bash my head against a wall.

[youngbugandtonystank]

what's the difference between what wanda did to those people in wandavision and what tony did with ultron?

I have so many asks about this. Hate asks, and people wondering what’s going on. This is the only one I’m answering.

Both of them are responsible for their actions. I’ve seen people try and take away either Tony’s responsibility for that or Wanda’s engagement and accountability. 

In Tony’s case, the Ultron program was supposed to be a global peacekeeping program to protect the people, acting as a suit around the world to prevent events like the Battle of New York. He was doing it in the name of peace and safety. Tony was rightfully scared because he was the only one who knew what was coming. Wanda intentionally enhanced that fear in him and this drove him to create Ultron with Bruce. He has responsibility for it. Same as Bruce. He owns up to this, he took full responsibility and agreed that they needed to be regulated. 

Tony Stark: A few years ago, I almost lost her, so I trashed all my suits. Then, we had to mop up HYDRA... and then Ultron. My fault.

--

Tony Stark: There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys.

--

Tony Stark: That's good. That's why I'm here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stop manufacturing.

--

If people think he needs to be in jail for it, then I’m guessing the rest of the Avengers too since all of them have made mistakes and killed people too. As a matter of fact, after the events of Wandavision, I’m sure that Wanda should be in the Raft, but because she’s ‘a poor baby’ yall won’t think she deserves that. 

SPOILERS

It’s a big possibility that we don’t have all the info about what happened in Wandavision but we’re going to go with what we know so far. 

In Wanda’s case, she did it to appease her grief and pain, and I can understand why she would get to that point, she’s been through a lot and maybe she was about to lose her mind. Instead of recruiting Wanda after the Sokovia incident, they should’ve given this girl treatment for her mental health problems. She just lost her brother and passed through a very traumatic war zone, of course she needs assistance. Cap and Natasha were the ones responsible for her because they were training the ‘new’ avengers. Sam was with them and he used to be a counselor to veterans with PTSD. He could’ve helped Wanda with some of her traumas. As shown in the series, Wanda did the whole hex business before meeting Agatha, which means creating that little reality was all Wanda’s responsibility. Hayward and Agatha did exactly what Wanda did to Tony (and the avengers/other people) in AOU. They manipulated her and played with her emotional traumas. Hayward showed her Vision’s body parts and Agatha started to pull strings to know how Wanda did what she did and her real powers while orchestrating against her. 

Both of them have made mistakes. No one is better than the other. I don’t understand why some fans want to make someone responsible more than the other or blame one character for the other. While Wanda gave Tony that vision and pushed his self-destructive side to obsess over saving the world, he did create Ultron, what Tony didn’t predict was that the robot was going to corrupt itself. Same with Wanda, while Agatha and Hayward contributed to her trauma, she held hostage and isolated 3,892 people to create her perfect reality, ripping these people away from their identities and free will to fit her own fantasy. Don’t turn this into ‘omg poor her, it’s Tony fault that she’s this way'. I can’t believe I have to repeat this but you don’t see Peter Parker obsessively looking for the person who manufactured the gun instead of the criminal who actually killed Uncle Ben. Ridiculous that I have to repeat this example. 

Oh and about Vision’s body (damn yall have a gift to turn everything into Tony’s fault for some reason). I can’t believe some of you think Tony (while grieving for 5 years) would give Vision to Hayward. You’re either pulling stuff out of your asses or you didn’t pay attention to the show. Maria Rambeau founded and was the Director of S.W.O.R.D. In 2018 (when IW happened), this is where she came up with a new policy within S.W.O.R.D. to ground snapped agents in case they ever returned. Maria was diagnosed with cancer, then two years later (2020), she passed away. Then, Hayward was promoted to Director of S.W.O.R.D., in his first years (2020-2022) he refocused the organization’s work from extraterrestrial operations to robotics, nanotechnology and artificial intelligence, etc. There, that was the 5 years. Then in 2023 it’s when he started project Cataract, which revolved around rebuilding Vision as a sentient weapon. Tony was dead when this happened. How come yall don’t get this part? I don’t understand, do you really think his dead corpse signed some papers to give Vision to those people? LMAO

Instead of thinking Tony would give up Vision just like that, think (possibilities):

Maria was the head of S.W.O.R.D., she might have just been keeping his body safe without doing anything with him. Maybe she trusted Hayward and he, obviously, betrayed her because he’s turning her organization into something else after her death. 

One of the Sokovia Accords regulations states that the use of technology to bestow individuals (the term ‘enhanced individual’ in this book is defined as any person, human or otherwise, with superhuman capabilities) with innate capabilities is strictly regulated by the government, as is the use and distribution of highly advanced technology. Vision signed those accords ('I'm saying there may be a casualty. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict... breeds catastrophe. Oversight...oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand’) The Avengers were no longer be a private organization and they operate under the supervision of the United Nations. This means they (UN) were the ones that referred Vision’s body to S.W.O.R.D., to a trustworthy leader, Maria. 

Vision died in Wakanda, not in New York. Tony was missing for 22 days after the snap, the rest of the avengers should’ve taken responsibility for his body.  

Why is it always Tony’s fault but never consider that other parties are also involved in this? 

I want to address some other asks with this one. I know some of you are angry because people are starting to blame Tony all over again, so a few things to remember:

Tony did not create the Accords. The Accords were the result of all the collective actions the Avengers have done in their superhero careers. All of them have made mistakes and the collateral damage of that was taken into consideration by the government and 117 countries around the world. He signed the accords because he knew that he could amend them with the support of the rest of the avengers and he knew about Thanos (something big was coming). 

Obadiah Stane (it’s so bizarre for me seeing that some people don’t know who this guy is, I’m guessing that the people who are watching Wandavision are too young to remember or didn’t watch the Iron Man movies at all which is highly probable) was the one selling weapons to the wrong people, not Tony. Obadiah was the CEO of Stark industries and became second-in-command for two decades. He grew jealous of Tony and began cooperating with the Ten Rings in Afghanistan, selling them Stark Industries weapons illegally. Imagine blaming all of it on Tony when Obadiah basically murdered thousands only because he felt a little green. If someone who you trust (he had no reasons to doubt Obadiah since he was like a second father-figure for him) does something behind your back (take into consideration that people like Pepper; who was Tony’s assistant and had knowledge of all of Tony’s activities and responsibilities, Rhodey; who was the liaison between the military in the department of acquisitions and Stark Industries, and Happy Hogan; who was his personal bodyguard and Head of Security of Stark Industries, didn’t know what Stane was doing either), how are you going to know about it? Tony trusted him. And when he realized what was going on he immediately stopped all of it. He worked hard to be better and people overlook that because they want other characters to look better. 

Don’t act like Tony was the only one assisting the military. All of the avengers assisted in one way or another. Natasha (who used to be an assassin) was in the Red Room, trained in the Black Widow Program in association with Leviathan and the Soviet Armed Forces, served for KGB, etc. Bruce Banner used to work for the United States government and was commissioned to create a super serum for them. Same goes with the rest, Sam, Clint, etc. Steve Rogers was a soldier lmaoooooooooooooo like, what happened to Tony with Obadiah happened to Steve with SHIELD/HYDRA in TWS. He trusted the people working in there (SHIELD), served for them, did missions for them and as soon as he found out what they were doing behind his back he turned against them. 

Knowing all of this, how is Tony always the villain for yall? I’m guessing because Tony’s popularity in the MCU, but still, aren’t yall tired of not understanding the plot and having people repeat it to you constantly? Watch the movies if you want to understand the franchise, people. Stop following the crowd. 

Also, Wanda is not a kid, she’s a 35 year old woman in Wandavision, she was 26 in AOU and 27 in CW. Hardly a child. Tony had almost her same age (38) when he realized Obadiah was selling illegal weaponry behind his back. The only reason people don’t fully forgive Tony is because 1. he’s a man and 2. he’s a billionaire. Even if Wanda was poor she still killed and hurt many people over the course of her life. Stop trying to make Tony the villain only to downplay Wanda’s actions. 

Both have killed people, both have made mistakes. They’re both responsible for them. 

[fyodorz]

52. “Are you showing off for me?” for ranpo with gender natural reader

Hi! Thank you for the request, anon! I hope you enjoy it 💕

ʚ┈┈┈┈┈┈♡┈┈┈┈┈┈ɞ

Are you showing off for me? | Ranpo Edogawa

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: tw blood (it's a crime scene)

You had been sent off with your boyfriend Ranpo to solve a case. Of course you didn't mind, you loved seeing Ranpo at work. You had boarded the train with him to get to your destination, sitting next to him.

"So what's the case today?" You asked.

"I think Kunikida said it was a murder case. We'll get more details there." Ranpo replied, relaxing with a lollipop in his mouth.

You gave a nod and laid your head against him, making him ruffle your hair playfully. You squeaked and batted his hand away with whine of "noooo". That only served to make Ranpo laugh as you tried to fix your hair.

"You're so mean." You pouted, making him laugh more.

"I know." He said, giving you a cheeky grin as he got comfortable again.

The rest of the ride was pretty mild. You and him made conversation, he shared some of his endless bounty of snacks with you. When your ride came to a stop, you took Ranpo where the crime scene was.

The scene was what you would expect. You two had arrived at an apartment that was buzzing with police. Thankfully Ranpo was easily recognized and you two were allowed in to the unit. Inside were even more officers. The body was in entry way a couple feet from the door, covered in a white sheet to conceal it from view. Despite the sheet, it was quite obvious what was under it just from the shape and the slowly growing pool of blood under it.

The wall next to the entry way was spattered with blood, as if the victim was shot or bludgeoned. Inside a crying woman was talking to an officer, trying her best to describe what happened while a teenage boy hid behind her, avoiding looking at the sheet and blood. A few nosey neighbors had attempted to gather as well, only to be warded off by the police. Both you and Ranpo quickly took in the scene as an officer came to speak with you two.

"Ah, Ranpo, detective [l/n]! Glad you're here. Our victim is 43 year old Sora Takahashi. Over there is his wife Ayano and their son Akira. Victim was beaten to death and there was no sign of a break in, but we've been unable to find the murder weapon. The wife and son both have an air tight alibi. The murder happened at approximately 6:09 am." The young officer read off his notes to you after greeting you. Once he was done he looked back up at Ranpo and you.

Ranpo hummed and glanced at you, taking his trademark glasses out of his pocket. You smirked slightly at him before you turned to the officer, which surprised your cocky boyfriend.

"Did mister Takahashi have a life insurance policy?" You asked, making the officer blink.

"Uh, yes actually, for about 5 million yen." He replied, a bit surprised.

"Did miss Takahashi have any close male friends?"

"She was close with her next door neighbor according to her son. One Daisuke Hanamura I believe."

"Have you questioned him?"

"He's been out of town for a few days."

"Any camera feed show otherwise?"

"The cameras on this floor had been cut, unfortunately."

As you were about to speak again, Ranpo wrapped his arms around you from behind. "[Y/n], are you showing off for me?" He hummed.

You softly laughed and took his hat off his head, making the detective pout. "I am, I believe mister Hanamura is the culprit." You said.

"Alright, let's see if Ultra Deduction agrees with you~." Ranpo said, putting on his glasses. After a moment he nodded, "the culprit is indeed Daisuke Hanamura. You'll find the murder weapon in the trunk of his car. Ayano Takahashi and Daisuke Hanamura worked together to murder Sora Takahashi for his life insurance policy and were planning to run away together. Miss Takahashi had Mister Hanamura leave town for a few days, only to come back early in the morning and beat Mister Takahashi to death while Miss Ayano and Akira were out for breakfast."

The officer was in awe of Ranpo's ability for a moment before he quickly went to inform his superior. Ranpo gave you a kiss on the cheek, "nice work, junior detective~," He teased playfully. "Maybe soon enough you'll be on my level."

"I don't have Ultra Deduction do I doubt I could ever be on your level." You replied with a smile.

"Oh my dear [y/n], you'd be surprised." He hummed, wrapping his arms back around you as you leaned your head against his chest.

ʚ┈┈┈┈┈┈♡┈┈┈┈┈┈ɞ

Requests: Open

I hope this was alright!! Might be a little rusty because its my first time writing something other than poetry! Thank you again for requesting! If you enjoyed please consider buying me a coffee on my ko-fi! (Link is in my pinned post) have a lovely day!!

[koko-bopp]

Muffin

kim dongyoung x male!reader

word count – 0.7K

genre – fluff, college!au

warnings – lotssss of flirting on Doyoung's side

synopsis – Doyoung works at a cafe at his university, you've recently started coming to his workplace, and he can't seem to stop fawning over you.

"Oh my god he's so beautiful! Isn't he beautiful?– don't even answer that he's so gorgeous I–"

"Doyoung. Doyoung. For the love of anything partly breathing," Taeyong let out the longest sigh possible, before pinching his fingers on both hands as if it would further implement a point, "Do your fucking job. I completely understand that you find art students the most attractive beings on earth, but I also need you to keep this job so I don't die alone here. Please, can you do that for me, Doyoung?"

Doyoung rolled his eyes, then did a whole 90° bow, "Yes, sir. Right away, sir–"

"Get up, you bastard," Taeyong knew his best friend was just being sarcastic in his actions, but when they're at the back of the counter and there's some teenager just wanting to corder a coffee but sees the employees bowing at each other like they're peasants. Yeah, not the best look for the cafe. "Just give him a free coffee if you really want to talk to him."

"He's already had two."

"Give him another. Fuels his addiction, good for your commission work."

"Tae, that's mean, you know I–"

"Then give him a muffin. But give him the one from yesterday, he doesn't deserve a free fresh one yet."

Doyoung scanned the muffins in the glass cabinet behind him, because the fresh one are at the counter. Doyoung had made the strawberry muffin with white-chocolate glaze, the item he's made that he's specifically proud of. Why not show off his skill?

Now it was a matter of actually.. giving it to you.

"You've literally been more obsessed with him when you found out he's in one of the came lecture halls as Jeno, but please, only find out if he's single–"

"I just wanna know how big–"

"Don't even finish that sentence."

"–His bank balance is."

"Nice. Get yourself a rich boy. But he's an arts major, I honestly doubt it."

Doyoung shrugged, "He's still hot."

Taeyong rolled his eyes, throwing the piece of cloth on the counter onto his shoulder before hitting Doyoung on his back with his hand, "Do what you want, but get back to work after you do."

He picked up the muffin using a pair of tongs, putting it on a nice plate. He wondered if sprinkling the sweet with powdered sugar was too much. It probably was... But you're rather sweet, so sweet and sweet, mathematically, are supposed to cancel out.

Maybe not according to food critics, but whatever.

The boy anxiously carried the small plate to you. You sat on a round table in the middle of a bunch of tables around you. There was a laptop and two other books in front of you with pictures of artworks scattered here and there. Your earphones were plugged into your phone as your foot tapped to the rhythm. Though, your concentration was purely on your laptop, your hands typing away at what he guessed was a report or an artist's statement.

"Hi," Doyoung said, accidently too shy.

Your head perked up from your laptop, and you gave him a bright smile, removing one of the earpieces to hear him properly, "Hey," You responded, "Have I done something or..?"

"No, not at all!" Doyoung backtracked, "It's just that, this cafe has a special policy where it gives a free muffin to the best looking person in the room, and you're this week's winner!"

A breath-y laugh left your throat, and your cheeks felt warm at the compliment, "That's cute. Are you serious?"

"Of course! I picked this out for you!" Doyoung definetly lied, if you looked close enough Taeyong was rolling his eyes to the back of his brain. He placed the sweet on an empty space on your table, "If you come back next week, I have no doubt that you'll win again."

You smiled at Doyoung, his behaviour was adorable. "Was this a unanimous decision?"

"No, just me," Doyoung giggled, "I'd say I have a good taste in men and sweets. My speciality tends to be sweet men."

You chuckled at his responses, placing your chin under your palm as you looked up at Doyoung, but your eyes went wide when you realised who he was, "Wait, wait, you're Jun's friend, yeah? The music major? You're in the same dance crew as him?"

"Why?" Doyoung nervously laughed, then joked, "Did he say something bad?"

"No, no, it's was just that you'd popped up on Jun's photo gallery one time and I'd been pestering him to give me your number for ages," You admitted, "Apartently all twenty one of his dancemates are off limits. Oh god, I can't believe I didn't notice it before."

Doyoung chuckled, "That's fine, however, Jun doesn't exactly have to know..." He took out the notepad that was sitting in the front pocket of his apron, and his blue pen from his jeans, scribbling something on the paper before ripping it out and handing it to you, "... Exactly where you got my number from."

[loudsuitlover]

Doctor Harry XXV. Pierdo verticalidad

BLUE’S POV

Ollie: So you mean you still haven’t told him?

The Golden Girls’ group chat goes crazy as I keep ignoring them. Harry’s thankfully not paying attention for he’s been too focused reading some research he’s found interesting. We’ve been in silence for hours now. I started studying from the notes he gave me for my exams on February and I gotta say they’re amazing. It’s clear he wrote them too because they’re so explanatory and full of tricks to remember stuff. All the conversation we’ve had is me asking him some doubts or him just randomly getting up and kissing me.

But no, I till haven’t told him about Marie’s beach house weekend getaway. He hasn’t asked either but I’m sure he knows something because both Adam and Mario are going and I’m sure they’ve talked about it. I don’t know what’s holding me back.

I want him to come along and I know it’d be good for him too because he’s been drowning himself in work like crazy lately and I think he needs to stop. When we’re not together, he’s working, and sometimes even when we are together, like right now, he’s working too. Yet I guess I’m still afraid of his rejection.

Marie: If you don’t tell him, I will.

Jason: He’s going to say yes!!!

Ollie: You guys are dating for crying out loud. When are you going to believe he actually likes you?

And then here it is. That’s the problem. Dylan never went to Marie’s beach house because it was The Golden Girls exclusively and now that it’s the first time that we are bringing companions… I always thought it would be him… But…

“H”

“Yes?”

“Mmm… Do you have plans for the weekend?”

His green eyes shift from his laptop screen to my face and I notice the change on his breathing. He licks his lips and shakes his head.

“Would you… Maybe like to go to Marie’s beach house for the weekend? With me? Adam and Mario are coming too.”

He just stares at me in silence for the longest seconds. Oh God, he’s going to say no.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want.”

Still nothing.

“Look, just forget I asked.” I fake chuckle.

Lord, I knew it.

“Do you want me to go?”

“I just invited you.” I frown. “Why would I if I didn’t-”

“Why didn’t you invite me sooner?” He licks his lips. “You’ve had plenty of chances and you never said anything so I thought you just didn’t want me there.”

I search for the annoyance on his eyes but I don’t find it. Wouldn’t that matter to him? I frown and look down at his notes.

“Baby, it’s okay.” He chuckles. “The fact that we’re together now doesn’t mean I have to be included on every single plan of yours. You can still make plans with your friends and not me, that’s fine.”

“Yes, but this time all my friends are bringing their partners and they happen to be your friends too so it would be so rude of me not to invite you.”

He smirks. Oh, no, now he’s going to think I just invited him because it would have been rude of me not to. That was his point all along and why did I say it like that?

“That’s not what I wanted to say.” I pout. “It came out wrong. I didn’t tell you anything sooner because I didn’t want you to reject me. You’re very busy and I just didn’t want you to feel forced to tag along to a plan that might not be your cup of tea.”

“Why would it not be my cup of tea?” He narrows his eyes.

“I don’t know.” I shrug.

“A weekend away at the beach with my girlfriend and friends… I’m trying to look for the part that you think might not be my cup of tea.”

When I look at him, he’s frowning, pretending to be deep in thought and I end up chuckling. He smirks at me again.

“Like I said, it’s okay if you want to be on your own.”

“I would love for you to be there.”

He holds my gaze and I know he’s now weighting the truth in my words so I just hold his and let him examine me. I pout and give him puppy eyes and his stern expression then breaks when he grins. His eyes drift to his laptop once before he looks back at me.

“Fine.” He smiles.

“Cool.”

He chuckles through his smile and gets back to his document but I point a finger at him.

“There will be no laptop though.”

“What?”

“You can’t bring your laptop.”

“What do you mean I can bring my laptop? I have everything on this computer, what if I get a call and they need my report on something?”

“They can do it themselves.” I shake my head. “It’s your weekend, H, you need to disconnect.”

“I’m not going to get on my laptop and work deliberately, Blue. I’m talking about an emergency.”

“Well, they can solve an emergency without you, Harry. They need to learn to respect your time for yourself.”

“You need to learn to respect my job’s my job.”

My lips set on a thin line as I challenge him. He can’t keep doing this to himself. He behaves like he’s 50 years old and has a family to look after and a job at some office where he could get fired any minute and that’s just not his scenario.

“I’m not going to fight you on this, Blue. I’ll bring whatever the hell I want to bring and that includes my laptop.”

“Fine, then I’m disinviting you.”

His jaw clenches. He’s getting mad and it’s been a while since I don’t piss him off but I’m doing this for him. He confessed to me it didn’t make him happy to work so much so I’m going to remind him. I’m not saying I want him to get wasted and do silly things, I just want him to be able to go out for the weekend to just be Harry and completely forget about the hospital and everything else.

“Are you seriously prohibiting me from working?”

“Don’t make it out as something it’s not. I’m not prohibiting anything, I’m just saying if you’re coming with me to spend a weekend away, you’re coming with me to spend a weekend away and that means no work. I wouldn’t meddle in your work if I didn’t know how you feel about it but I know you’re not proud of the way you handle it so this is not me prohibiting, this is me caring.”

He looks ahead, away from me, and stays silent for God knows how long. This is ridiculous, I need to get back to studying.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m counting to ten.”

“Are you really that mad?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to say yes.”

“To what?”

“Not to bring my laptop, are you happy now?” He gets defensive and I don’t like it. “Do you feel a little more superior now with your rules? Are you happy that you score another point?”

“You’re a jerk.”

And my voice croaks. I know he’s referring to the no weed policy and it hurts me that he would use that against me. I don’t know how hard it’s being for him not to smoke weed because I don’t really know how often he used to smoke or whether he has some sort of addiction. He told me he didn’t but no one ever says they do. I get back to his notes before he can say anything else.

“I hate it when you insult me.” He says calmly.

“And I hate that you think I’m trying to control you just because I try not to have you doing self-destructive things.” I confess. “My rules” I throw all the disgust and hurt his words gave me with that “like you call them it’s just another way of caring about you. I don’t want you bringing your laptop to Marie’s house for the same reason I don’t want you smoking weed and even though you think that’s some personal shit of mine, it’s because you don’t do it in a healthy way and I don’t like it when you don’t treat yourself right.”  

With that I just get back to studying and ignore his attentive stare as I draw a diagram on my notebook but I can hear him breathing until he stands up and walks towards me placing a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, baby. You’re right, I’m a jerk.” I look up at him because I secretly love that he knows how to apologize. “And I’m very lucky to have you.”

“It’s okay.”

He leans in and presses his lips against mine.

“Are you almost done?” He asks on the crook of my neck before he presses a kiss there too.

“Not really.” But I tangle my fingers on his hair.

“Come on, I want to cuddle after your demonstration of affection.”

I chuckle at how silly he can be.

“I suppose I can study snuggled on the couch too.”

“Uh, uh.” His hands grab my arms and take them away from the table before he holds my torso and lifts me up from my chair. “No more studying today, baby. You need a little mental break if you don’t want to have a mental breakdown.”

I chuckle against his lips and he grins because he knows he won. I kiss him back already standing up and his hands just move from my torso to my ass.

“Let me take your mind off and get you off.”

I laugh but of course I let him.

And two days later we’re in his car and I’m giving him directions to Marie’s house.

“You sound like you know how to drive.”

He glances at me as if he had said that testing the waters and I swallow and choose to ignore him.

“Is it because of Dylan’s accident?”

My shoulders tense up.

“Yes.”

He quickly glances back at me and I know he’s surprised I answered. I guess he thought he was going to have to insist a little more for me to tell him. He glances at me again.

“Keep your eyes on the road.”

“Sorry.” He clears his throat. “I just… Have you not driven since then?”

“No.”

His eyes drift to me again and I point to the road. I decide on talking on my own accord so that he doesn’t get us both killed.

“I don’t know why but… Ever since the accident I just… I got behind the wheel and just froze. It was like my feet didn’t work and I couldn’t step on the pedals.”

“But… You were not in the car, were you?”

“No.” I swallow. “But I heard it.”

I take a deep breath. It takes me by surprise that I can talk about this. And inside a car to make things more incredible but I actually think I want to tell him.

“We were on the phone.” I whisper. “When he crashed, he was talking to me on the hands-free, obviously so I heard it.”

“Fuck, Blue.” He clicks his tongue. “I didn’t know that, baby. That must have been terrible.”

Okay, now I’m crying. But that took long. I sob and wipe my tears trying to get it together but Harry just rests his hand on my knee and doesn’t say anything. He lets me cry and I am so grateful for that.

“It was.” I sob. “I can’t… He was listening to this song by Sebastian Ingrosso when it happened and I just… I can’t listen to the song without hearing the crash on my mind.”

“Fuck, baby.”

He turns the radio off and I cry for a while embraced by his silence. I never imagined the most comforting thing to cry to was having his hand on my knee and his silent presence. I’m lucky he asked that right after he got on the highway so that I don’t have to give him any more direction for 34 kilometres.

When I manage to find my regular pattern of breathing, he gives me a side glance and a smile and I feel it like an arrow pinning on my heart.

“Thank you.”

He smiles.

“No problem, love. You can talk to me whenever you want” he squeezes my knee “about anything.”

I hold his hand and bring it to my lips and he glances at me with a stern but pleased expression. I let go of his hand and smile.

“You really suck at keeping your eyes on the road.”

He chuckles.

“You’re very distracting.”

“Sorry.”

“No problem, there are barely any cars and this road looks like an Scalextric.”

“Did it take you very long to drive?” I ask him. “After the accident, I mean.”

“Hell yeah.” He nods. “Like a year, I’d say.”

“And how did you do it?”

“Well, obviously with therapy and help… Mostly from Adam. It amazes me, still to this day, how he managed to be by my side and help me get out of that dark place I was when he had been on the accident too and I mean I… He… You know what happened to him and he still was never mad at me or anything.”

“It was an accident, babe.” I whisper. “He wasn’t mad at you because he had no reason to be.”

He swallows. I know that’s hard for him to believe but it’s the truth.

“It also amazes me that you’re here.” He whispers. “All things considered. So thank you.”

I hold his hand that’s resting on his thigh this time and kiss it again and he smiles. I place it on my thigh afterwards and he only takes it back to change the gears or place it on the wheel.

“Adam is one of the kindest guys I know.”

He says that so out of the blue it has me questioning why he brought it up and when I don’t comment anything on his random thought, he quickly glances at me and answers my silent question.

“He asked me whether you liked him.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“Told him I didn’t know.”

“Why? When you could have just told him sure, she does?”

“Because would that be true?” He shrugs. “I don’t want to put words on your mouth and I genuinely don’t know whether you like him or not.”  

“It bothered me that he told you I was at my dad’s and that he used Marie to get that.”

“He didn’t use Marie. He likes Marie. A lot.”

And you? Do you like me?

“Well next time tell him it’s not me who has to like him but Marie and so long as he doesn’t hurt her, there’s no problem for me.”

“So you don’t like him.” He smirks.

“That’s not what I said.” I frown.

“You didn’t say you liked him either.” He laughed.

“I don’t- I don’t really know him.”

Harry nods.

“Would that be a problem for you?”

“What?”

“If I didn’t like him.”

He sighs.

“Well, the only reason you wouldn’t like him is because you don’t know him so no, it’s not something that worries me.”

“How are you so sure of that?”

“I’m telling you” he grins, amused with this “he is one of the kindest guys I know. I mean if you had gotten to properly know him around the first time you met him, you might have fallen for him.” He raises his eyebrows in his signature this-is-my-point face. “That’s how great he is.”

I smirk.

“And why would I not fall for him if I get to know him now?”

He glances at me with a teasing smirk.

“Blue! Your best friend is dating the guy! Keep it in your pants, lady!”

I laugh and shake my head.

“Take this turn to the left and then on the stop sign turn to the right and that’s it.”

“Alright.”

“What about you? Do you like my friends?”

He shrugs.

“I don’t really know them but they’ve always been nice to me and they put up with you so they deserve some credit.” He jokes.

I swat his arm and he pretends it hurts while I laugh.

“I like Marie the most even though I know she doesn’t always like me.”

I smirk.

“She didn’t use to like you, that’s true. But you guys are like friends now.”

“Why do you say it as if it was a bad thing?” He chuckles.

“Because you guys are more alike than you think.”

“No, I know we’re alike. That’s why I like her.”

I chuckle at his fake narcissistic comment and he chuckles along.

“Well, then it’s her who doesn’t see it.”

“I mean it’s definitely there. We both like you, Adam likes us both. I think that says something.”

“I like you both.” I add.

He glances at me as he stops on the stop sign right before Marie’s road.

“What? It takes you as a surprise that I like you?”

“To be quite honest, yeah.” He chuckles.

“What? Why?”

He shrugs.

“It’s right here. This is Ollie’s car. Park here but do elaborate while you’re at it.”

He chuckles and starts pulling over so he doesn’t look into my eyes while he speaks but instead in every mirror and through the windows.

“Sometimes I wonder, you know, if we hadn’t fucked that night we went out for dinner or if my looks weren’t irresistible for you” he jokes “would we be friends? And I think on my part of course but… I think…”

The honk of a car interrupts him and when we both look at the source of the distraction, we see Olivia smiling like the Cheshire cat on her car honking and her headlights pointing at Marie and Jason who are dancing with cocktails on their hands right in front of it. They both grin at us and motion with their hands for us to join them.

“Are they already drunk?” Harry chuckles.

“Probably yes.” I explain. “I didn’t warn you but this weekend is madness. This is the Golden Girls full on so don’t be afraid if-”

But I can’t finish my warning because Olivia opens my door and gets me out of the car pulling from my armpits with her tiny hands. Harry just laughs and like that Ollie and I join Jason and Marie on their weird dancing.

Marie and Jason scream like teenage girls as if we hadn’t seen each other in years and Olivia and I laugh. I see Harry carrying my bag on his shoulder and talking to Mario who’s taking Ollie’s stuff out of her car and a smile makes its way on my face.

“We need to make a few more mojitos so we can have a proper baptism toast.” Jason says “but this weekend is promising.”

Marie gets teary eyes and the three of us laugh.

“No, guys, I’m serious. I’m so happy you think that and I’m very glad you all are here.”

“Of course, Marie Anne.”

“Okay, now let’s get inside because I’m freezing and those two are carrying your things.” She giggles.

I watch Harry greeting my friends and for some reason enjoy very much the way JJ gives him a bro-hug and can’t fight my shit eating smirk as we follow Marie towards our room.

Harry and I are getting the last room on the first floor and next to ours there’s one just for Jason. On the second floor, there’s Marie and Adam on Marie’s parents’ room and Olivia and Mario on the other one.

I turn to investigate Harry the moment I close the door and my friends move to the second floor to check Olivia’s and Mario’s room. Jason follows them.

“This house is ridiculously huge.” He says.

I smile with lips closed. He should see my Dad’s house at Capitol if he thinks this is ridiculous. He has a look around the room but I watch him. I don’t know when I became this insecure about my friends and my lifestyle but I guess I just want him to feel comfortable around us.

The room has sea views and a floor full of fake fur carpets and the bed is made with a thick duvet and a very soft blanket on top that look like a lion’s mane. If I look too long at the bed I might lie down and don’t come out of the room again.

“This place is really nice.” Harry smiles. “Do you always stay in this room?”

“No, I usually stay upstairs with Marie because it’s warmer there and you know how sensitive to the cold I am.”

“Yes.” He smiles. “Well, we’ll have to cuddle.” He shrugs. “Are you okay? You’re weird.”

“I’m fine.”

I tilt my neck when I hear the knock on our door and Harry raises his eyebrows.

I call in whoever is outside and it’s Adam who opens the door. Only then I realize he’s the only one we haven’t yet seen. Harry grins widely at the sight of his friend and gives him a hug.

“Hello, Indie.” He smiles at me.

I remember my conversation with Harry on the car and find Adam’s behaviour endearing so I give him a warm smile.

“Hi, Adam. It’s nice to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you too.” He grins. “I just came to say hi really, I was getting the fire started when you guys arrived.”

“Nice.” Harry says.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go control the amount of alcohol Marie is pouring on those mojitos.”

Harry laughs.

“Yes, you should.”

Adam closes the door when I put my bag on the bed and open it to get my toilet bag out.

“Such a nice, kind guy Adam is.” Harry says and I chuckle.

I’ll admit I’m a little worried about the last bit of our conversation on the car when he intended that he didn’t think we would be friends if we didn’t fuck. That hurts me and the fact that it surprises him that I liked him?

And the fact that I am a sharing a room with him instead of with Dylan.

That too.

Before we can start a conversation, there’s another knock on our door and Harry just chuckles. This time it’s him who opens the door and Ollie gives him her best behaviour eyes.

“Nice sweater, Harry.” She smiles.

She’s too much. Harry frowns and gives me a confused look but I just brush my friend’s behaviour off and he chuckles.

“Thank you, Olivia.”

“You can call me Ollie, you know.”

“Noted, Ollie.”

My friend walks past him and paces around the room for less than a minute before she lies on the bed and rolls over herself like a little girl on a pile of autumn leaves. She mindlessly tell us about the new bathroom on the second floor but I know she just doesn’t know how to tell us what she came here to say. I almost laugh when I see the way Harry’s looking at her as if she was insane. She kind of is.

“What do you want, Ollie?”

Harry’s green eyes shift to my figure and I can hear his silence reproof on my bluntness but I know my friend. She sighs and lies on her side, resting her head on her closed fist and sinking her elbow on the bed.

“Guess who got an internship in Paris.” She smiles.

“In Paris?” My eyes opened wide.

“Yes! Isn’t it great? The city of light, the city of love!”

No, it’s not. It’s horrible. Paris is very far away and with how busy our schedules are with the hospital practices I’ll see her what? Twice a year?

But I can’t tell her that. She’s grinning like a kid on Christmas and her body is radiating so much energy I feel guilty for thinking like that. I’m just going to miss her a lot.

“Yes!” I lie smiling. “It’s great.”

“It’s on the maternity unit too! We had an interview on Skype and my tutor is so cool, she’s this French blond badass with French bangs and a lot of determination and I searched her on Google and she’s so smart too, she’s got lots of articles on Science and Nature. I can’t wait to work with her!”

She looks like a teenage girl who has just been given her first kiss, she’s all giggles and euphoric excitement. I’m happy for her, of course I am… I just feel like crying if I think about next year without her.

“I’m so happy for you. You deserve this, Ollie.”

“Thank you.” She smiles.

“What did Mario say?”

She smiles timidly but her eyes look sad suddenly and she plays with straps of my bag on the bed.

“He was very happy for me. Actually he offered to go with me to my first official interview. He’s so sweet…”

“A weekend in Paris with Mario?” I smile.

She giggles and I feel Harry walking closer to me.

“I know.” She bites her lip before she gets up from the bed. “What do you think, Harry?”

“I think it’s a great opportunity and I think you’ll do good.” He smiles at her.

“Thanks.” She melts with his smile and I roll my eyes. “Now, you two get to the living room. There will be time for shagging afterwards.”

“Olivia, get out of here.”

She finds her way out laughing and Harry chuckles with eyes closed at her cheekiness. When we hear the door, I catch the way he’s trying to hide his smirk.

“What?”

“You’re a terrible liar.” He chuckles. “You do not want her to go to Paris.”

I sigh and take a seat on the bed next to my opened bag.

“Of course I don’t want her to go to Paris! She was the first person I met at Uni and we’ve done this together and… I always thought our first year of residence would be together too.” I shrug. “I guess I’m just not ready for things to change and I don’t want to have her that far away.”

“Yeah, I understand.” He smiles.

“Also, poor Mario! It’s been so hard for him to get her and now that he finally has her, she’s slipping through his fingers.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely not as happy as she think he is.”

I tilt my neck to look at him and he shrugs.

“Guys talk too, you know.”

“What has he told you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He smiles and when I’m about to complain he leans down and presses his lips against mine. His fingers intertwine with mine in the middle of the kiss and he makes me stand from the bed.

“Now let’s go get you a mojito.”

When we make our way outside, the scene takes me by surprise because we’ve never really have these many guys around. They’re all a little older than us too and it kind of feels like were turning older ourselves. Ollie is leaving us to go to Paris and I wonder if everyone else knows and I was the last to hear about this or whether she came tell me in my room because the rest don’t know it yet. I wonder how they’d take it, what they’d say; but I know they will be supportive despite their real feelings.

After dinner, we all sat down on the couches near the fireplace and have a game at Party and Co; boys against Jason’s angels. He said there was no need in adding in changing the name of what was clearly aimed to be  the girls team to Jason’s angels, specially because according to him there was zero units of angels among us three; but I guess it was just Ollie’s way of making him feel special.

We’re halfway in the game and winning because the boys suck when I stand up to get myself another drink. I pour some Sprite for Harry too even though he didn’t ask and I hear Jason and Mario discussing the last point the boys lost in mimics. I chuckle at the way Mario seems so invested defending why they deserve the point when they didn’t get it right when I feel someone standing behind me. Adam smiles at me.

“I’m so glad you finally decided to invite him.”

Tilting my neck, I follow the trace of his gaze until my eyes land on Harry who is sitting down next to Mario and smiling at his interaction with Jason.

“You could have too, you know.”

“Oh, he would have never come had it been me inviting him.”

“Why not”

He gives me a knowingly look but smiles.

“He would have said he didn’t want to bother you.”

“As if he could.” I smile.

He just shrugs and pours some rum on a glass, I take it for Marie, and opens a bottle of whisky, I guess for himself.

“Well, I’m very glad you did.” He continues. “This is what he needs, really, to hang out with friends and just disconnect from work and… I’m happy he’s got you.”

He’s starting to make me nervous. I can feel the heat on my cheeks and my neck. I give him a side glance but he just chuckles.

“I haven’t seen him like this in forever.” He nods his head. “He’s happy.” He shrugs. “And it’s because of you.”

“He’s helped me more than I’ve helped him.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “But still, look at him.”

I tilt my neck so I can see him. He’s smiling, now talking to Jason about Lord knows what, but he seems a lot more calmed than usual. I like seeing him with my friends. It’s an endearing image.

“I am not like… Mad at you or anything.” I announce. “Just so you know.”

He frowns as he gives me a confused look.

“I didn’t like that you used Marie to get information for Harry but-”

“What?” He frowns, horrified. “No, no, no, I did not use Marie for that or for anything. I would never do that. I like Marie. A lot.”

His eyes set on my friend who looks gorgeous as she scolds Olivia with her eyes wide opened and her lips set on a thin line and I sigh.

“Well, I just wanted you to know that I… I don’t mind you.”

He smiles.

“I think that means you like me.”

I frown as I grab both my glass and Harry’s and he grabs his.

“Marie told me you’re much like a cat. Maybe little hugs or kisses but if you need a friend, you call Indie. She’ll be there for you.”

“That’s right.” I smile. “I do not like to have my personal space invaded.”

“Unless you’re Harry…” He adds.

“Unless you’re Harry.” I laugh with him.

I take a seat next to Harry and offer him his glass of Sprite and his eyebrows raise as his eyes widen in surprise. He wasn’t expecting it but he smiles gratefully and takes it. I give him a little smile but quickly look away so that my brain doesn’t melt with his dimples.

As we keep on playing, his hand finds my knee or the low of my back and he draws meaningless patterns against my jeans or my sweater or just rests his hand against my body. I am grateful for his warm and his closeness but I don’t reciprocate because I’m drunk and because it’s embarrassing for me to display my affection for him in front of my friends.

After we win the game, Jason plays some music and approaches us swaying his hips like Shakira and like that Olivia’s up too. Harry leans his back on the cushions on the couch and gets comfortable and before I lie on him and embarrass myself on his embrace, I stand up and dance towards my friends, who are happily cheering at me.

I don’t know how long we danced for but at some point Olivia refills my drink and I drink that one too. I start to feel dizzy and my friends start to look prettier. I giggle when I realize Jason’s staring at me.

“Harry’s fun.” He all but yells.

I tilt my neck to see him and check whether he heard that but he’s laughing hard at something Mario said and my eyes wrinkle as I grin at him. He looks so good when he’s happy.

“He really is.” Olivia adds.

“You have to stop giving him the eyes.” I raise my eyebrows at her and she grins.

“What”

“You know what I mean” I get closer to her face so I can lower down my voice “you flirt.”

“I’m seeing someone.” She grins.

“You’re not denying it.” I close my eyes.

Olivia just laughs. We’re both joking though, I know she would never ever do anything that could hurt me but I’ve still noticed how she looks at him.

“He’s a fucking God and a girl’s got eyes.” She admits. “But… To begin with, he is crazy about you; he couldn’t care less about any eyes being given to him and…” She grins “I really like Mario, there I said it.” She giggles.

Jason’s jaw falls opened and his eyes open wide. I grin at my friend.

“I love him for you!” Jason hugs her. “And have you seen the way he looks at you Well done, girl. And you, Indigo Blue, you haven’t said it but I’m guessing now that you guys are officially a thing, you’ve come to terms with the fact that you actually like Harry…” He tries.

“No shit, Sherlock!”

The two of them laugh and my eyes drift back to him. I more than like him. I look up to him.

Marie and Adam join the party on the improvised dance floor and I still watch Harry laughing with Mario. I want to hear whatever it is he’s saying. I wonder whether they’re talking about past experiences and I find myself walking towards them like a moth flies to the light. I haven’t told him, but I love hearing about his life, his past and all the reasons that made him the person he is today. I don’t really like the dark bits but because I hate that he’s suffered so much but I gotta say, even though at the beginning out of all the emotions I thought I could feel admiration was never one I considered, I am amazed by his strength.

When I get to them, Mario’s still talking but Harry’s eyes are on me and he’s giving me a wide grin. I’m going to take a seat on the couch but his hand holds the back of my thighs preventing me from doing so. Instead, he guides me to sit on his lap and after doing that, we are both facing Mario who grins at us.

“You know what’s the best part of dating Olivia?” Mario asks us and we both shake our heads. “Look at her, she’s so into dancing that she doesn’t notice I’m not there.”

I throw my head back and laugh because he’s right. I’m sure she would go crazy if Mario was to appear on her back and dance with her but if he doesn’t, she’ll happily dance nonetheless. She doesn’t really need him to have fun and the fact that he likes that instead of feeling intimidated or left behind by that is the reason I like him so much.

“I’m so happy she found her way back to you.” I smile at him. “You’re awesome.”

“Thank you.” He laughs it off but he’s blushing.

“After what happened with Jack, I was afraid that she was going to get even worse with the whole not having feelings for the male population shit but here you guys are.” I shrug.

Mario grins.

“She’s never said she’s got feelings for me but I’ll take it.” With that he stands up from his spot of the floor. “And now if you excuse me, I’m gonna go try to participate on her dancing party.”

Him leaving leaves me alone with Harry and when I tilt my neck to look at him, he’s smiling at me. I smile back.

“You’re very smiley” I push his hair back from his forehead “and very handsome.”

He chuckles and his hands move up from my hips to my waist where he gently pinches me.

“You look hot.”

I sloppily grin at him and he laughs.

“And drunk.” He adds.

“I am a little drunk.” I confirm. “But are you having fun”

He nods and my eyes drop to his pink lips. He licks them so I know he knows and I smile. His phone rings and both our eyes set on the screen. Hampstead. I look back at him and his jaw is clenched. He gently holds me up I take it so he can answer the phone but I still confront him.

“Are you kidding me? It’s 11:30 pm on a Friday.”

“Exactly, that’s how important it might be.”

“I’m so tired of this.” I shake my head.

“I’m tired of this too.”

With that he picks up the phone and walks away excusing himself from the noise. I sigh and look away until my eyes find the balcony. I need some air.

I discreetly make my way outside so that my friends don’t notice and follow me and I walk the short distance from the door to the balcony and the rail and rest the top of my thighs against it as I hug myself trying to warm up from the cold around me. I should have taken my coat.

I watch the sea, seemingly angry in the winter cold, as it roars and threatens to get closer to the cabin only to step backwards as if someone was holding it back. I wonder if that’s how Harry feels with me, I wonder if I’m being too much, too annoying or if I’ve ended up being as controlling as Javier.

I get mad at myself. I’m drunk, but I can still clear my thoughts. I don’t know who I’m even doing this for. The door cracks open only to be shut after somebody’s feet and I don’t turn around until Mario rests the low of his back against the rail. He’s lighting up a cigarette. I didn’t know he, likewise Ollie, smoked.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do when she leaves for Paris.” He confesses.

I give him a side look and take a deep breath.

“Me neither.” I whisper.

He sighs and shuts his eyes before he turns his body around so he can rest his elbows on the rail.

“I won’t tell her that, obviously, but I don’t think I can even tell her how I really feel about her without her freaking out and like probably ghosting on me again.”

“I wish I could tell you what I think she’ll do but honestly Ollie’s pretty unpredictable. She likes you though. I can tell you that.”

“I know.” He smiles. “I mean she hasn’t told me but she doesn’t have to. I can tell.”

He gives his cigarette a puff and we both stay silent for a few minutes. I can’t really tell him that I think Olivia is just running away from him because she’s scared, can I? I guess I can’t even tell Olivia that.

“Mario”

He looks at me.

“If someone called you from the hospital right now, would you answer?”

“Sure.” He frowns.

“Do they usually do that?”

“What?”

“Call you when you’re not even working at ungodly hours?”

“What? No!” He frowns. “Oh, you’re talking about Harry…”

I look ahead and sigh.

“He puts too much pressure on himself…” He offers “But I guess he’s not as good as he is for nothing… Is that why you looked sad?”

“I’m not sad… I’m just… Worried that I’m being too annoying… I just want him to disconnect, you know, to be able to be with me or with his friends without worrying about the hospital; but I’m afraid that’s just who he is, you know, that he is Doctor Harry 24/7…”

Mario smiles.

“I think he needs that. You know, before he met you, he was… He’s always been kind and nice but he’ll go home straight from the hospital and then straight back to work in the morning.”

“But he used to date Camille, didn’t he?”

“Did he tell you that?” He frowns but his tone just sounds shock.

“No” I shake my head “I just heard Camille and Dulce talked once and I mean we’ve mentioned it a couple times but he’s never given it much importance.”

“Well, yeah, I don’t think it was very important…”

I nod. Is that how he feels about me too? Would he not talk about me either if we broke up?

The next person to join the outside low mood party is Jason but he’s a lot nosier than Mario has been, probably because he’s a lot drunker too. Mario and I chuckle as he clumsily approaches us.

“Holy shit, it’s freezing in here.”

“Well, go back inside!” I laugh.

“No way. I want to talk about Olivia too. Why does she have to leave?”

Mario smiles.

“Don’t we all wonder?”

“I think you should ask her to stay.”

“What are you talking about, Jason? No! We have to support her. That’s what friends do.”

“Friends also stop their friends when they’re running away from something good.”

I roll my eyes. Oh, Lord, he’s going to mess up. Mario gives me a confused look, Jason hiccups, I want to kill him. The door cracks opened again and Olivia and Harry walk outside.

“Here she is!” She tells him. “I told you.”

Harry walks towards me but this time he doesn’t grant me any smiles. I look away from him but feel him standing behind me.

“Aren’t you freezing?”

He doesn’t give me time to answer or even to turn around before I feel his warm arms wrapping around me and pulling me against his chest and covered with his thick warm coat. Without even processing what’s going on, I welcome his embrace and wrap my arms around his waist. One of his arms rests on my shoulders and pull me to him and the other rubs against my back to warm me up.

“Olivia, love, why don’t we go inside?” Mario guides her inside.

“Yeah, I want to cuddle.” She pouts.

He chuckles and carries her inside so Harry, Jason and I are left alone.

“Blue, about what I said earlier” he starts.

“It’s okay.”

He takes it I don’t want to talk about it and lets it be and my eyes meet Jason’s.

“You guys…” Jason sighs. “I know it’s terrible but I miss David…”

Harry stays quiet. I don’t know whether he remembers his name or whether he just knows he helps more now by just listening. I do the same.

“I know he was terrible and a jackass but I loved him” He shrugs. “And know I’m all alone and you guys are all in love and it’s just me all alone here.”

“You will never be alone until the day that I die.”

Jason smiles drunkenly before he starts telling Harry about David and I just stand there and let them talk. I like feeling Harry’s arms around me and I like the way he listens to Jason and acknowledges his feelings and validates them.

It’s soothing to me too because even though he’s not talking to me, seeing his reaction to his kind of anticipates how he would react if I ever told him about Javier and that comforts me in a way I can’t explain.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go inside.” Jason smiles.

We watch Jason leaves in silence. Strong arms are still pulling me close to him and keeping me warm when he speaks.

“That David was a dick.”

I laugh. I don’t think I ever told him the girls and I used to call him David Dick but I might as well have. I look up at him and nod instead.

“So tiring with the “you’re mine, you’re mine”, sounds like one of the seagulls from Nemo to me.”

I throw my head back and laugh again but he’s just grinning down at me. It fascinates me how his sense of humour is so strange, he doesn’t even recognize when he’s being actually funny. I shake my head.

“I’m sorry” He says. “I’m not tired.”

I sigh and move my hands from his waist to his chest.

“I’m sorry too. I just want you to relax but sometimes I forget I don’t have a say.”

“You do have a say.” He corrects me. “But I already didn’t bring my laptop, this was just a phone call…”

“I know.”

He nods slowly and his eyes drop to my lips. I tilt my neck back so my mouth is closer to his and he leans in until the space between us disappears. His lips open and close against mine, encouraging me to do the same, and his tongue, wet and warm, slips through my parted lips and make me suck on my own breath. Pecking his lips a few times, I gently push his chest away and escape his embrace.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I’m going back inside.”

I try to walk away from him, but his arm has snaked in front of my body and is now trapping me between his body and the rail as his hands rest on it. I am caught on his trap when I look up into his green eyes. He smiles devilishly at me, much like a child who’s done something wrong, and I feel all my senses melting under his spell. The way his face moves with every expression is mesmerising and the fact that this man decided to be in a relationship with me makes me feel like a perfect woman.

“What are you doing?” I whisper. “Don’t be silly, let me go.”

Harry shakes his head but his eyes never leave mine. I can see how much he wants me on his eyes, the way he looks at me, the intensity he’s holding. I know I have got his undivided attention and I also know for now he couldn’t care less about anything else in the world. He’s here, he’s now and there’s nothing else in his mind.

“What’s so funny?” He smiles.

I haven’t realized I was laughing until he said that. I don’t know what’s funny. I might jut be nervous or excited or happy.

“Nothing.” I blush.

“You don’t know what I’m doing?”

I frown amused and tilt my neck to the side like a confused puppy.

“I’m fucking you with my eyes.” He whispers.

I roll my eyes pretending his words didn’t make my walls clench.

“Cause I want to fuck you” he grinds his hips against mine and pushes me against the rail and I can feel he’s getting there “for real.”

That’s it, he won, I’m all gone for. I kiss him. My hands tangle on his hair and one of his arms squash my waist against his body while his other hand rests on my thigh. I moan against his mouth but his tongue claims dominance and I let him. He slows down the kiss and my breathing calms down and his hands set on the lower part of my back and we just kiss, slowly and meaningfully, and I feel my heart beating in a frenzy.

He’s grinning at me after he pulls back but he’s silent and I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what I could say that could possibly make it better so I just stare at him and I study his face and everything I love about him. I love his mouth and his eyes and his smile and his scent.

“Blue…” He smiles.

His lips part but before he can say anything else Marie’s opening the door and sticking her head outside.

“Guys, beerpong tournament. I signed you up and your rivals are already waiting at the table.”

I raise my eyebrows once and pat Harry’s chest as he sighs heavily.

“Looks like you’re gonna have to wait.”

He leans in and slips his tongue inside my mouth again.

“Just wait until I get you alone.”

[biconicfinn]

id like to know, what are your takes on politician!Alec? if you want to talk about that

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK!!!!! POLITICIAN ALEC IS MY FUCKING JAM DJKABVHJKDBVKADVBFAV okay anon strap in because this will get crazy

holy shit this is long so i’m putting it under a read more!! 

okay so first of all: alec is someone who has been trained from a young age to be a politician, he would have been educated in diplomacy and politics, his parents were expecting him to become head of the new york institute and they have no qualms about living vicariously through their children and forcing their burdens on them as we have seen in the show.

he was probably taught clave law and the accords, a whole bunch of languages (polyglot power couple malec ftw) because i assume the NYI uses english as their lingua franca because of their location but since institutes also have to deal with local downworld and mundane populations it’s safe to assume that in other countries where english isn’t the main language, they go with the local languages and alec would need to communicate with these other institute heads, etiquette, some formal ballroom dances like the waltz, the art of negotiation, administrative stuff like resource allocation, budgeting, public speaking, the nitty gritty details of the clave workings, in addition to the knowledge of the different races of the shadow world, hand to hand combat, combat with a variety of weapons (he masters archery to utter perfection but he definitely is also incredibly proficient in close range combat as well).

sorry i just love alec and he is definitely more competent than most of the Alec StansTM (yall know what im saying) make him out to be

okay so!!!!! it’s pretty much canon that alec has spent a considerable amount of time as acting head of the NYI; what with maryse and robert always fucking off to idris to lick the boots of the clave and so he probably has a good relationship with the people under his command. he’s probably put protocols in place to reduce casualties and injuries, form patrol teams that are well-balanced so that they are versatile enough to take just about any threat that comes their way, etc.

of course, thanks to a little thing called the nephilim’s deep-rooted homophobia, a lot of the work alec put in probably got negated when he came out. it took a lot of courage for him to come out and to be openly gay. raj was an absolute asshole to alec for no reason and often questioned his leadership decisions post coming out, and even if not all the shadowhunters reacted like that, they did show some resistance(?) to alec’s leadership when he was appointed head and questioned him. it probably took a lot out of him because it’s one thing to have your people doubt you as a leader because of your actions or words; your decisions as a leader, it’s another thing for them to mistrust you entirely because of a fundamental part of your identity that you can’t change. you can build trust by publicly admitting and apologising for mistakes and putting in honest work to be better, but it’s impossible to build trust when the other person doesn’t even see you as human to begin with. 

this is turning into a hoti!alec ramble but i promise i will bring this back to politician!alec okay i promise i just need to establish the headcanons i’m building on first sorry 

okay back to business!!!! i feel like alec is so very genuine and honest outside of the political sphere alec “casual wedding vows” lightwood anyone? so when he does show his ability to be a complete fucking shark in the political arena a lot of people are blindsided because they expected him to be very honest and direct but he knows that as much as he’d like to be genuine, he needs that shrewdness to navigate the political minefield of idris. he prefers directness, but if you take the manipulative, indirect, route and underestimate him, he will not hesitate to turn your own methods against you.

he is also the type of leader who constantly tries to make an effort. his intentions were genuine with the downworld cabinet and i think that if it wasn’t set up in the middle of the shitstorm which was valentine’s re-emergence and the circle’s rise, it would have been more successful. he has a lot to learn and unlearn, and he (an utter perfectionist) will do as much as he can to help the downworld. i like to think that in a post s3 world, but before the time skip, he helps to re-establish the ties between the shadow world factions in new york and focuses on being the nephilim voice of the downworld to the clave, constantly trying to push for new accords and reformed policies, and he makes an effort to not speak over the downworlders, but instead be their representative and ally to the clave because the clave are racist bastards who wouldn’t listen to them but they have to listen to alec lightwood (”it’s lightwood-bane, actually”), one of the heroes who stepped up to defend alicante when the rift to edom opened. (and also because if they did try to slander or belittle him, they risk angering magnus, who has enough clout to embargo most warlocks from providing magical assistance to any local institutes, if he feels that the downworld is being ignored despite the fact that a warlock is the sole reason why alicante was’t razed to the ground, or that he and his husband are being targeted by the clave. because they are That Couple.) in conclusion alec is a good ally okay?

but as much as he tries/tried to do right by the clave, he sometimes also doesn’t give a fuck about them. he’ll be in meetings at idris, and maybe they’re discussing asinine, irrelevant, minor issues that are really just stupid excuses to showboat and compare family clout and whatnot and he’ll be pissed as fuck because instead of discussing actual relevant issues like irregularities/strange patterns in demon attacks, hunting down remaining circle sleeper cells, reparations for the downworld (like for the heavenly fire project), rewriting the accords, rebuilding idris, helping get the attacked institutes back up and running, you know, actual important issues that need attention but no, we’re discussing some petty family squabble that turned into a political feud that involves everyone and their fucking uncle. and he gets so damn angry he just blows up and rants at them and tears them a new one. he finishes his impressively long spiel with “you know what? fuck this. when you guys are done fighting like children and taking up precious time that we should be using to talk about real, pressing issues that affect the entire shadow world instead of five people at this table, let me know and i’ll be there but until then don’t bother. if you’ll excuse me, i’m going back to my husband. thank you. and for the last damn time, my name is alec lightwood-bane. i already changed my damn name legally so fucking use it.” and he just leaves to go back to new york because fuck the clave. 

he goes back home to the loft and it’s like the stress and anger just melts away because he walks in on magnus dancing around the kitchen as he cooks dinner, singing dancing queen at the top of his lungs, laughing when magnus twirls to see him leaning against the doorway of the kitchen with his heart eyes and blushes at being caught doing somethin so silly

he becomes a successful inquisitor by sheer force of will and determination. it’s not at all intentional, but it just happens. with the success of the cabinet and the measures he puts in place, he shares it with other institute heads and slowly more and more institutes are collaborating with the local downworld and most of the time, the statistics pay off in the long run. there are starting troubles as with any new initiatives, but soon enough there is a sizeable number of institutes following them successfully and it’s hard for the clave to ignore. alec gets invited to alicante to discuss the possibility of him becoming inquisitor just when the downworld deputy program is taking off in new york. (it all starts with simon asking “so are you guys nephilim or shadowhunters? what’s the difference? or is it interchangeable?” and then they realise that while nephilim is a term to describe half-angel half-human beings, shadowhunter is a term more commonly used by active duty demon hunters and drops out of use as a self-descriptor when the nephilim in question leaves combat. “so that means technically anyone in the shadow world whose job it is to fight demons is a shadowhunter? right?” and the lightbulbs light up in alec’s head immediately) oops time to get back to it the point. 

okay so!!!! the clave offer alec the position of inquisitor and it’s part recognition for his efforts and acknowledgement of his skills, part them wanting to keep him under their control. how does that work? well it’s simple. if alec is inquisitor and the clave makes it as hard as possible for him to do any effective work, bogging him down with bureaucracy and and votes on motions that are just shy of the majority needed to pass laws etc etc. basically throw every road block they can at him and wear him down; forcing him to step down and thus silencing him, and by extension, the downworlders who rely on him for a voice in the clave. 

malec side note: so they first say that magnus can come to alicante and make an exception for him, and the general plan is to make it look like they’re actually doing something good when it’s to lull them into a false sense of security. (but alec and magnus choose to live in brooklyn first because despite everything, it is still dangerous for magnus to be the only warlock in a city full of nephilim) but then alicante opens up to the rest of the shadow world, magnus becomes the high warlock of alicante, and the clave are dealing with the force of nature that is known power couple and ultimate badasses magnus and alec lightwood-bane. oops. 

but they underestimate the power of alec’s Lightwood(-Bane) DeterminationTM and his sheer stubbornness. so their plan backfires spectacularly when within the first few years, he’s implemented laws to open alicante up to downworlders, expunge criminal records of downworlders who were previously wrongfully charged with crimes, rehabilitation of wrongfully imprisoned downworlders, mandatory downworld cabinet and downworld deputy initiatives worldwide, as well as be part of the core group that rewrote the accords to be more fair. 

alec probably retires after like five years of being inquisitor and then magnus steps down as high warlock and they just travel the world together and be in love and happy, occasionally consulting on political issues here and there but for the most part they just run off into the sunset to be immortal husbands together because they’ve sacrificed enough for the good of the shadow world to last several lifetimes. 

[blog-sliverofjade]

Hearth Fires 5: Waking Up

Pairing: Remi Denier x OFC

Summary:  Lorel Maddox just wants to live as a human, run her bakery in peace, and forget. Unfortunately, the alpha of the local leopard pack has very different ideas.

Remi Denier doesn’t know what to make of the female Changeling who wants nothing to do with him or the RainFire pack. He does know that he has a driving need to protect her. Even if it’s from herself.

While they’re embroiled in a battle of wills, there’s a war brewing on the horizon. The outside threat could not only destroy everything they hold dear, but tear apart the fragile new bonds of the Trinity Accord, plunging the world into bloodshed to rival the Territorial Wars of centuries past.

Word count: 2363

Content warning for canonical fantasy racism.  When I started writing this, I hadn’t realized that fantasy racism can be problematic.  I based it on real world examples so it’s a weird mix of actual peoples’ experiences atop a fictional shifter race.  

As you read, try to remember that these aren’t instances I dreamed up in my head, they came from authentic occurrences in the US.  The excerpt before the second part?  Taken from flyers posted in 2019.  This is reality for actual, living, breathing people to this day.

Hearth Fires Masterlist

Beta read by the stupendous pandabearer

Remi’s cat crouched in preparation to battle with the strange predator in sheep’s clothing in their midst; pinpricks in his bottom lip were a sure sign that his teeth were more feline than human at the moment, and his claws itched to unsheath.  How could he have been so blind? He needed to eliminate the threat before anyone could question his leadership, a lethal strike to prove his dominance.

That thought wasn’t him.  It was an echo of another alpha from another time and brought him out of the homicidal haze with a cold splash of dread.  He had to shove the memories and the associated sick feeling in his gut into a box in order to concentrate on the situation at hand.

Holding himself with a predator’s stillness, he studied his prey.  Whenever one of his packmates was unduly intimidated by someone, outsider or not, he and the pack kept a close eye on that individual.  He didn’t haul off and rip their throat out. He could hardly bring her down in front of their youngest in the middle of what was meant to be a celebration.  Such casual exposure to violence could damage young psyches, as well he knew. Yet, it was all he could do not to charge over there and tear the ocelot away from the little family.  Unlike that other alpha, he couldn’t act upon suspicion alone.

The baby hunter had no compunctions about cuddling up to Lorelei, something she would never have done if Lorelei was even close to going rogue.  Moreover, several cubs surrounded her now, curious about the visitor. Their youngest, hunter or otherwise, were some of the best judges of character and the best litmus test when it came to the health of a pack.  It was when the adults didn’t pay attention that problems arose.

“He’s different.”

“Oh sweetie, of course he is.  He lost his mate. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

He shook off the echoes of the past like his cat shook off water and shoved them back in the box.

The music had switched from general background party music to a dance mix, which made overhearing their conversation difficult even with his superior hearing.  Moving closer, he stopped at one of the tables of food so he could eavesdrop without being noticed. Staring at the ocelot would only put her on her guard.

Lorelei didn’t appear on the verge of a rampage; rather, she seemed overwhelmed.  Then again, who wouldn’t be when surrounded by the cubs who were peppering her with questions?  His tension eased a fraction when he saw that none of them appeared scared of her.

“Just you and your nana and papa?”  Remi couldn’t help a small smile at Jasper’s wide-eyed incredulity.  Most of their little ones had grown up in packs or in extended family units at the very least.  Such a small family without ties to dozens of “aunties” and “uncles,” as well as numerous friends of all ages, was an unthinkable concept to them.

The interrogation wandered into what type of cat she was since she smelled different and, to his knowledge, none of them had met an ocelot.  They were much smaller than leopards and the children would probably be delighted at having a grown-up playmate their own size. She was actually rather good with them once she relaxed, and he wondered how she’d handle being swamped by them when they were the same size.  He grinned at the thought of little cats ending up in a wrestling pile and the knot in his chest eased.

Elias waded through the throng to speak to Lorelei.  What came out of his mouth must not have been his usual bullshit because she didn’t slap him.  He seemed downright courteous, which was unnatural and creeping Remi out more than a bit. Lorelei only nodded to him after Tien gave her an encouraging smile.

The senior soldier pulled Lorelei to join the growing cluster of dancers.  While she was willing, it was painfully obvious that she was far from comfortable in her own skin, moving stiffly and keeping her head on a swivel to look for anyone staring.  Elias, picking up on her discomfort, shifted to hide her much smaller body with his own. In thanks, she smiled up at him and shifted slightly closer.

His cat wanted to be the one to crack open her prickly exterior and unravel the mystery of her.  The only problem was after seeing her interactions with the pack, Remi seemed to be the only one she wanted to swipe a claw at.

The rancid emotions he had stuffed down sprang back with a vengeance, sending irrational jealousy spiking through him.  For some reason, she brought out his inner psychopath, all the dark urges and instincts that he kept chained within. Very few knew about them, and he intended to keep it that way.

With a sigh, he rubbed at his temples to ease his pounding headache.  If only he could place the blame on the recent circulation of human supremacy rhetoric, but that would merely be an excuse for his own lack of control.  He told himself that things would be better once she was pack since he disliked having an unprotected submissive female in his territory, which was true, especially with the possibility of active anti-Changeling groups in the area.

He felt scraped raw on the inside.  It had been a while since he’d been this spun up in his head and he needed to get that sucker back on straight.  This was a time for joy, not the shadows haunting him.

“Leaving already?” Lark asked from behind him.  She had managed to sneak up on him, which was a sure sign that he was off his game.

“If you feel the need to babysit, go chase after the cubs,” he growled over his shoulder.

“I’m doing my job.”  She let his temper roll off her.  “Need someone to run with?” He shook his head.  He’d prefer a good fight, but in this mood he was likely to shred even a sentinel.  “Remember you have to be back in time to help judge the costume contest.”

An affirmative grunt.  Pack bonds were important, especially in such a young pack, but he had to vent this before his attitude began to affect everyone else.

WAKE UP HUMANS!

Our children deserve a future free of Changeling violence.  These animals come into our communities with their drugs and violence, lowering property values, living off welfare, and preying on hard-working humans.  In the name of “political correctness,” we the taxpayers are prevented from standing up to these parasites.

DON’T BE DELUDED BY A “BRIGHT NEW FUTURE”

We need to change the country’s liberal policies that are eroding our values.  It’s alright to be human and we need to stop being ashamed of it. Changelings want us afraid and divided to prevent us from having a group identity.  We have been the victims of the other races for too long. They try to divide us, take away our rights, and plan to eliminate us because they fear us.

STOP CONTRIBUTING TO HUMAN GENOCIDE!!!  KEEP THE HUMAN RACE PURE!!!

       -Excerpt from letters sent to residents of Sevier County, Tennessee September 2083

Lorel hummed and swayed along to music while she piped bright pink rosettes onto the rows of cupcakes in front of her.  The radio was set to the show of the DJ from the party, a pretty human packmember by the name of Aoife. Country wasn’t her typical choice of genre, but it reminded her of dancing at the party.  She hardly knew anything about Elias, and therefore had no feelings about him one way or the other, yet she couldn’t get the other night out of her mind; not that she was dreaming of the soldier or anything.  

She had been completely dumbfounded; no one had ever asked her to dance.  Well, not since that horrible prom night in high school, anyway. While she’d doubted that the leopard would try to pull what her teenaged date had, she had looked to Tien and gotten reassurance.  She barely knew the other woman but trusted that Tien wouldn’t knowingly put her in danger.

It had been a long time since anyone other than her aunt had touched her, and far longer since she’d had any physical contact of a non-platonic nature.  Elias had made it clear that he found her interesting and attractive, which she could have chalked up to the promiscuous nature of Changelings. But he had also been respectful of her boundaries even though it was obvious that her limits were far more stringent than that of a Changeling’s, and possibly those of many humans.

She kept her distance not just because she didn’t want them to assume she was easy, or that she was going to join the pack, but because it simply felt too good and not even in a sexual way.  At first, Elias’ touch was nearly painful, like her skin was so focused in its need that every sensation was heightened ten-fold to absorb everything at once. Startled by the sensitivity, she had been about to retreat when the song ended, but the ache of the loss had her saying ‘yes” to the next person who approached.

The sun had set and red, yellow, orange, and white fairy lights strung between the trees had lit up.  At that point, she’d called it a night with the excuse that she had to work in the morning; while that was true, she had worried that she’d be tempted to go exploring the woods in animal form.  Even if they’d allowed her, she couldn’t permit the cat to take over.

Tien had approached her with arms wide in expectation of a hug.  Unsure of what to do, Lorel did her best impression of a statue as the other woman’s arms had folded around her.  It wasn’t a brief embrace, either. It was strong and warm and all-encompassing. Maternal. And she soaked it up like rain after a drought, her skin still starving even after all the dancing.  Although her aunt had lavished affection on her before going travelling, as if she’d tried to compensate for the lack over the years, there was a quality among the Changelings that felt like she was finally coming home.

Lorel had let herself relax into the hug and had, had to force herself to pull away, fussing with her clothes to keep from reaching out to the other woman again.  Her cat’s tail had lashed in irritation at the denial, but didn’t act out in any other way, thankfully.

At the sound of the door opening, she set the bag of frosting down and headed out front while wiping her hands on a clean, damp cloth.  A woman looked at something on her phone as she approached the counter.

“Good morning,” Lorel greeted her.  The customer held up a finger while she tapped something into her phone.  Lore’s customer service smile grew strained while she waited. When she finally looked up, her scent soured before Lorel could offer a sample of berry crumble cake.

“Where’s Nora?” she demanded.

That was a question she’d heard far too many times, but this time the edge to it had her ocelot’s upper lip curling away from her teeth.

“My aunt’s currently on a beach enjoying her retirement.”  The mask wavered as Lorel fought against mirroring the sneer of her cat.

“Is there someone else who can help me?” she frowned.

Okay, that was a new one.

“Just me, I’m afraid,” shrugged Lorel.  “Is there a problem?”

“Don’t snap at me.”  Lorel swore that the other woman was two seconds away from clutching her pearls, if she’d worn any.  “I just want to know when someone else will be in to serve me.”

What in the name of all that was good and holy?

“Ma’am, I’m the owner,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Right,” she rolled her eyes, then muttered, “I just don’t know where this country is headed.  Animals like you taking jobs from good people.”

In an instant, her cat went from unamused disdain to homicidal rage.  Lorel throttled it back, but her eyes flashed yellow-green if the sudden ashen hue underneath the woman’s spray-on tan was any indication.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”  Lorel didn’t bother with the fake smile this time.

“How dare you!”  Her colour returned, going straight to red.  “I’m going to sue for intimidation.” Her shrill voice grew louder and louder until Lorel’s ears protested the abuse.  She stormed out, entering a code into her phone.

She released the breath she’d been holding only to inhale a lungful of perfume strong enough to make her eyes water.  Her ocelot wanted to hunt her down like a rabbit, but she convinced it that the meat was bad. She propped open the door to air out the store and the obnoxious woman stood in front of the yarn shop next door.  Still on the phone, she turned and the blood drained from her face when she saw Lorel.

“Oh my god, she’s following me!” she shrieked.  

Lorel rolled her eyes and decided she’d go put her irritation to good use by kneading dough for cinnamon buns.  As much fun as decorating cupcakes for a little girl’s birthday party was, that required a steady hand and hers were shaking with unexpressed anger.

The butcher’s block was barely floured when the sounds of sirens pierced her eardrums.  She dusted off her hands and returned to the front to find four cops standing there, each with a hand on a weapon.  Blinking, she froze mid-brush. I probably shouldn’t offer them doughnuts, she thought.

“Good afternoon, officers.  Would you like to try the berry crumble?”  She gestured to the silver tray with the samples and bit back a laugh at their bewildered expressions.  Evidently, they’d expected to find her frothing at the mouth from the way the blonde was still carrying on outside to a fifth cop.  They probably hadn’t anticipated a woman who more resembled a librarian than a murderous beast.

[leonaesque]

Poetic Injustice: On Ateneo and Negotiating Complicity

To be a successful comprador is an art. Tony Tan Caktiong knows this. Given the scale at which multinational corporations influence Philippine culture, at this point, who are we to refute it? And how? Profit-seeking forces itself on us; to be recognized. Every mass-produced item of clothing featuring the pattern of an ever-smiling billion-dollar bee is indication enough: Art is execution. In fact, being the recipient of foreign capital requires deliberate hands able to maintain thousands upon thousands of labor-only contractual workers, despite their having worked at the same establishment for years on end. These workers produce what no middleman can. Yet a company will still view being bought-out by an industry giant as the ideal exit strategy. Each moving part makes for one striking image of monopoly– worthy, one might insist, of being featured in a gallery.

Jollibee Foods Corporations (JFC) acquires stakes or ownership of restaurant chains in order to expand, as it has done over the course of many years with local and foreign brands. Their current roster includes Greenwich, Chowking, Red Ribbon, Mang Inasal, Burger King PH, The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, and Panda Express PH. The company also runs businesses internationally, such as Smashburgers in the United States, and Yonghe Dawang or Yonghe King in China.[1] Of course, the face of this massive undertaking remains the once tiny Magnolia-inspired ice cream store, Jollibee, now every business-oriented insect’s wet dream.

Ernesto Tanmiantong, brother and successor of Tony Tan Caktiong as Chief Executive Officer (CEO) of Jollibee Foods Corporation, is the latest former Chairperson of the Ateneo de Manila University Board of Trustees.[2] One can even find his name, along with his wife’s, gracing a first-floor exhibit hall of the Ateneo Art Gallery, found inside the university’s so-called creative hub, the Arete. In the months before the start of the first semester of S.Y. 2018-2019, Tanmiantong’s adorable, marketing-committee-approved buddy in white gloves and a chef’s hat took a trip to the then-newly inaugurated art gallery for a photo-op. The mascot then posed with several installments and paintings, a couple of which depicted farmers and workers.

According to the Department of Labor and Employment (DOLE), JFC is one of the most notorious businesses with regards to the perpetuation of the practice of contractualization.[3] Contractual workers are, according to law, not employed by– and, therefore, not the responsibility of– the company they provide labor to. Because of this, these workers do not receive benefits or compensation, are often subject to abusive working conditions, and are vulnerable to the shameless practice of mass termination. No doubt, the Public Relations stunt with the Ateneo Art Gallery was ill-timed; right at the height of protests against the corporation, in the midst of its non-compliance with the DOLE’s order to regularize upwards of 6,000 of its workers– there was Jollibee: tone-deaf and taking pictures to post on his Facebook profile, The Atenean Way.  

Ironically, as the statement by Ateneo’s School of Humanities Sanggunian (which condemned the incident) pointed out, perhaps even the person inside that oversized blinking head of the Jollibee mascot was a contractual worker, posing in a space that he might never have been able to enter without the cartoon-bee-mask of his exploitation.[4] Surely, it does not matter whether or not the institutional faux pas was an intentional case of art-washing. At least, it should not. Is there such a thing as art for art for art’s sake?

---

There is this poem entitled “The Doomed” written by Mikael De Lara Co. A friend of mine recommended it to me once after a workshop session because my piece, he said, reminded him of it. I do not think my friend meant to insult me. Unless he did.

“The Doomed” is a poem about writing a poem, wherein the poet-persona is aware that, while he is writing poems about lilies, there is violence somewhere, which he is both physically and socially detached from. This violence is manifest into the shooting of Liberal Party supporter and candidate, Hamira Agcong, in 2010, as well as the infamous Ampatuan Massacre that occurred in 2009, where 58 people were kidnapped and killed.  

Where do poems fall under in the realm of social praxis (if at all)? “The Doomed” ends with the lines “I want to find beauty in suffering. / I want to fail.” Yet, the poem’s aestheticization of the murders via tone and imagery is blatant. The declarative rejection of an ideal like beauty or portraying beauty betrays the poet’s pretentiousness in what can only be his underlying conservativity. There is no attempt to avoid it. With lines like “You sit at your desk / to write a poem about lilies and a clip of 9mm’s / is emptied into the chest of a mother…” and “… a backhoe in Ampatuan crushes the spines of 57 / – I am trying to find another word for bodies”, it sounds as though these killings are more poetic material than actual, politically motivated deaths. Tell me, is the reader to blame for reading what is on the page? Mikael De Lara Co fails in failing, making the poem and its project a useless endeavor.

Despite the pointedly crafted grief into the persona’s voice, “The Doomed” does nothing to grieve the circumstances which brings about its dramatic situation. Why are people “doomed”, if not for the bureaucrat capitalists that viciously plot to stay in power? Could the poet not have addressed that, instead of weeping about his writing process? I do not believe that the poem would have failed that, at least, because all language inevitably fails in the face of social reality. That would be lazy, if it were not bullshit.

But I suppose that is why “The Doomed” fails, most of all: The poet believes it is fine to write speeches for a leader who allowed farmers and indigenous people to be harassed, as long as they could be tagged as members of the New People’s Army, the armed faction of the Communist Party of the Philippines. A text speaks, though the words are not on the page. So, the poet dooms.

Mikael De Lara Co has won many awards for his writing and translations, including the prestige-inducing Don Carlos Palanca Award for Literature. He graduated BS Environmental Science from Ateneo de Manila University, where he was once an editor of Heights, the school’s official literary publication. He has been published in many other magazines, literary journals, and the like, where his author’s notes proudly indicate all these accomplishments and more, such as having, himself, worked for the Liberal Party and once been a member of the former President Benigno Aquino III’s staff under the Presidential Communications Operations Office. Ergo, ghostwriter, alongside a number of other Ateneans who were also once part of Heights.

“Noynoy Aquino was a fascist” is a phrase that does not get said often enough. The Aquino administration, with its neoliberal policies the color of dehydrated piss, is credited with the starving thousands of farmers to death. Unsurprising, I suppose, for a family of landlords to inherit a disdain for the very hands that feed them. Corazon Cojuanco Aquino passed the Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Program (CARP) during her regime, and her son amended it with an extension and reforms (CARPer), making it even easier for land owners not to have to redistribute their lands at all.

For all its “Kayo ang boss ko” and “Daang Matuwid” pandering, the Aquino administration did not skimp on its counterinsurgency program, Oplan Bayanihan, which heavily drew from the U.S. Counterinsurgency Guide.[5] Here, it was farmers and Lumad, some of the most vulnerable sectors of Philippine society, that were tagged as rebels, terrorists, communists, etc., simply for knowing and standing for their rights, as the government failed to decimate actual armed revolutionaries in the countryside.

The massacre that took place under the Aquino administration occurred in Kidapawan, Cotabato on April 1, 2016. According to reports, among the group of 6,000 protesters that was mainly composed of farmers and activists, 116 were injured, 87 went missing, and 3 were killed.[6] Perhaps the lilies in “The Doomed” were a metaphor for De Lara Co’s beloved Noynoy.

---

Speaking of Ateneo: For an institution that makes yearly claims to combat historical revisionism and uphold the memory of the victims of human rights violations under the Martial Law era, this university loves to slurp on major Marcos ass. In 2014, President Fr. Jose Ramon Villarin, SJ drew flack for having rubbed elbows with the iron butterfly herself, Imelda Marcos, at an Ateneo scholars’ benefactors’ event.[7] The mere thought of Imelda posing as a charitable, bloated cockroach in a wig that feasts on all that is lavish and garish, while the university welcomes her to do so is nearly comical. I imagine the blood.  

In 2019, a similar incident ensued[8], this time with Imelda’s daughter, Irene, whose art connoisseur lifestyle she lives second-hand. It was during the inauguration of the Arete’s amphitheater, named after Ignacio B. Jimenez, a crony of the corrupt family themselves.[9] Community backlash forced the building’s executive director, Yael Buencamino, to resign and for University President, Fr. Jose Ramon Villarin, SJ to issue a statement in response to the instance.

Yet, despite the triumph of Ateneans in demanding accountability for having the Marcoses at our literal and metaphorical dining table, there are also the Camposes, the Consunjis, the Lorenzos, and other local elite whose hands are stained with generational blood, that have established their presence in the campus with no near hopes of showing them out. Students could also be as loud as they pleased about the violations on workers’, farmers’, and national minorities’ rights that these families are frequently attached to, with only the answer of a warning that school organizations may lose sponsorship opportunities. What else can we expect? Of course, the names that line the halls that one studies in are the limits of academic freedom.

---

A few semesters ago, I wrote a poem to be workshopped by my co-English staffers in Heights as part of our membership retention requirements. It was not a good poem, I know. It was about my experience of integrating with the striking workers of Sumifru, a multinational Japanese company that produces fruit, whose union was called NAMASUFA (Nagkahiusang Mamumuo sa Suyapa Farm). After struggling to get word out of their plight and facing violent dispersals and harassment, 200 workers came all the way from Compostela Valley to Metro Manila via boat and plane, despite the difficulties of travel due to the imposition of Martial Law throughout Mindanao. Their objective was to pressure the DOLE and its Secretary, Silvestre Bello III, into action; that is, to be firm in enforcing Sumifru’s compliance to regularize their workers, which the company refused to do even though the DOLE had legally recognized them as their workers’ employer. The workers set up camp in various places, such as Mendiola, Liwasang Bonifacio, and beside the Commission on Human Rights inside the University of the Philippines Diliman campus, and often welcomed students who came to learn about their cause.  

During the workshop, the discussion began with a silence and an awkward laugh. Political realism was how my poem was diagnosed, for obvious reasons. However, the main critique that I remember was that my use of language– the words multinational corporation and bureaucrat capitalists, in particular– did not induce the feeling of the struggle that the workers went through. It was not the language workers used or would use. I refuted this claim, saying I had talked to the workers. That this is exactly what they say. No, it is not poetic. It is real.

I agree, though, with the verdict that my poem was not good, if the basis were form. I agree because I do not think poems need to be good to say what is needed. If the basis were factors other than form, I still do not think the poem is good. I mean, either way, it does not change the fact that, ultimately, I only wrote a poem for a workshop, despite any intention of bringing awareness to NAMASUFA. Is a poem going to save them their jobs? Does that make a difference? Did it make a difference?

The Sumifru workers returned to Mindanao last July, 2019. I have left Heights as well.

---

Within the Ateneo campus, a tarpaulin overlooks the red brick road that the entire Loyola Schools population traverses. The sign merits a purposeful, impossible-to-miss position on the old Rizal Library building, immortalizing the critique: “We find the Ateneo today irrelevant to the Philippine situation because it can do no more than to service the power elite.” Nothing could be more fitting, in my opinion. The Ateneo de Manila University’s commitment to performativity deserves to be blasted in our faces, if at least once a day.

This declaration was taken from the “Down from the Hill” manifesto published by The Guidon in November of 1968. The manifesto was written by a group of five students, namely Jose Luis Alcuaz, Gerardo Esguerra, Emmanuel Lacaba, Leonardo Montemayor and Alfredo Salanga, all of whom actively campaigned for an anti-imperialist orientation to nationalism.

I want to talk about Eman Lacaba. Throughout the Marcos regime, he was a student activist– a radical, so to speak, as disapproving administrative bodies might now label him. Presently, he is known for being a poet, revolutionary, guerilla, and a martyr during the Martial Law era. One of his most often discussed poems is “An Open Letter to Filipino Artists”, a piece that finds itself into syllabi like a de-fanged snake. The poem is a detailing of his experience as a cadre of the New People’s Army; the provinces he visits, his process of proletarianizing from a burgis boy to a communist rebel, and so forth. The epigraph of the work, a quote from Ho Chi Minh, affirms his praxis– “A poet must learn how to lead an attack.” The poem is the revolution that Lacaba takes up arms for. I guess now that he is dead, Ateneans can wholeheartedly claim him as one of their own.  

After the Martial Law era, Ateneo decided to create a body dedicated to the integration of its students with various disenfranchised sectors of society, as encouragement for their middle to upper-middle class youth to become more socially aware and active. The Office of Social Concern and Involvement (OSCI) is the current iteration of this. Their programs, from first year to fourth, require students to be socially involved enough to pass their Theology units. Commendable, no? Still. You can almost get sanctioned for so much as lighting candles for state-murdered farmers on the sidewalk by the gates outside of campus if it is not an Office of Student Activities-approved event– something I learned the hard way. I was not aware that bureaucracy was a key principle in Catholic Social Teaching.

So, does this mean the opposite of active non-violence is that which is inactively violent? The areas that OSCI allows their students to immerse in are carefully chosen, the interactions are prepared for in advance. In fact, they do not want to use the term “immerse” lest they be misconstrued with the damn leftists that climb mountains and “brainwash” unsuspecting poor people. You know, the ones that dare challenge the status-quo? Ateneo, or at the very least, its administration, will recognize the necessity of political action, but only to a certain extent. Nothing like Eman, the warrior-poet, whose militance is much too red to aestheticize.

The contradiction between what is said (marketed, poeticized, apologized for, etc.) and what is done should be scrutinized, instead of convincing ourselves that our interests are not merely our own. The dominant culture of a society will expose who supports those who hold political and economic power.  

[1] Cigaral (List: Brands operated by Jollibee Foods Corp.)

[2] (Leadership)

[3] Patinio (Jollibee tops list of firms engaged in labor-only contracting: DOLE)

[4] SOH Sanggunian (The Statement of the SOH Sanggunian on Jollibee's PR Stunt)

[5] Karapatan (OPLAN BAYANIHAN For Beginners)

[6] Caparas (WITH VIDEOS: 3 dead, 87 missing, 116 hurt as police fire on Cotabato human barricade)

[7] Francisco (Ateneo de Manila 'sorry' over Imelda's visit)

[8] Paris (Irene Marcos was invited to Ateneo, and students are up in arms)

[9] Rappler.com (Ateneo hit for art ampitheater named after Marcos 'dummy')

Works Cited

Caparas, Jeff. “WITH VIDEOS: 3 Dead, 87 Missing, 116 Hurt as Police Fire on Cotabato Human Barricade.” InterAksyon.com, 1 Apr. 2016, web.archive.org/web/20160402013745/interaksyon.com/article/125901/breaking--security-forces-open-fire-on-cotabato-human-barricade.

Cigaral, Ian Nicolas. “List: Brands Operated by Jollibee Foods Corp.” Philstar.com, The Philippine Star, 24 July 2019, www.philstar.com/business/2019/07/24/1937490/list-brands-operated-jollibee-foods-corp.

Francisco, Katerina. “Ateneo De Manila 'Sorry' over Imelda's Visit.” Rappler, 6 July 2014, www.rappler.com/nation/62549-ateneo-manila-imelda-marcos-apology.

Karapatan (Alliance for the Advancement of People’s Rights). OPLAN BAYANIHAN For Beginners, Karapatan, 2011.

“Leadership.” Leadership | Ateneo Global, global.ateneo.edu/about/leadership.

Paris, Janella. “Irene Marcos Was Invited to Ateneo, and Students Are up in Arms.” Rappler, 8 Apr. 2019, www.rappler.com/nation/227702-irene-marcos-invited-to-ateneo-students-protest-april-2019.

Patinio, Ferdinand. “Jollibee Tops List of Firms Engaged in Labor-Only Contracting: DOLE.” Philippine News Agency RSS, Philippine News Agency, 28 May 2018, www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1036679.

Rappler.com. “Ateneo Hit for Art Ampitheater Named after Marcos 'Dummy'.” Rappler, 21 Apr. 2019, www.rappler.com/nation/228633-ateneo-ignacio-gimenez-ampitheater-marcos-dummy.

“SOH Sanggunian.” SOH Sanggunian - The Statement of the SOH Sanggunian on..., 2 July 2018, www.facebook.com/sohsanggu/photos/a.157891440898864/1893103380710986/?type=3.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Dead Man Walking (10/10)

Summary: Prime Ministers don’t normally wake up in morgues after they’ve been murdered, but that’s exactly what Robert Sutherland has just done. Right in front of Lacey’s nose. With limited resources and not knowing who to trust, Sutherland and Lacey must work together to get to the bottom of the attempted assassination.

Based loosely on this dream I had.

Rated: E overall, this chapter is T.

Note: This is meant to be ‘darkly humorous and amusing mystery’ rather than ‘gripping political thriller’…

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [AO3]

Dead Man Walking

Ten

Sutherland had really not anticipated how much paperwork came with nearly being assassinated and having the Head of the Civil Service arrested for said near-assassination. What he had hoped would be a fairly peaceful summer break had, overnight, turned into a complete frenzy, not helped at all by the fact they were trying to do their utmost to keep everything out of the papers. 

Naturally, despite Carrie’s most valiant efforts, this was completely impossible, and the red tops were going above and beyond when it came to conspiracy theories. Sutherland was extremely glad that it was the summer and he didn’t have to deal with quite as many public appearances, or anyone in the Commons wondering aloud to the Speaker if the Prime Minister was in a fit state to be running the country given that he was probably suffering some kind of psychological trauma as a result of nearly dying. On top of that, the delicate political situation that had led to him hosting the meetings at Chequers in the first place had still not gone away, and it would only become more acute as time went on. 

Sutherland leaned back in his chair and sighed. It felt very strange to be back in Chequers given what had happened the last time that he was here, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it. On the one hand, Sir Albert had been arrested and wasn’t around to make a second attempt on his life since the first one failed, but on the other hand, it was clear that he had not been working alone, and Sutherland still didn’t really know who he could trust. In a way, he felt safer down here at Chequers than he did back in Downing Street, because it was far more likely, given the phone conversation that Carrie had overheard, that Sir Albert’s co-conspirator was London-based. 

He glanced down at his phone, looking at his ongoing conversation with Lacey. They had been messaging each other fairly frequently over the last few weeks and had spoken a few times as well, talking about the day to day life of Downing Street and Carrie’s latest shenanigans, and how Lacey’s studies were going. She was on track to complete her doctorate on time and graduate in January, and Sutherland wondered how much of a stir it would cause if he were to go to the ceremony. Probably too much, but he would definitely send his congratulations.

Chatting with Lacey was always a breath of fresh air whenever things were getting out of hand. She would pull him out of the politics and into the wider world, reminding him that there was indeed a wider world out there that was affected by all the decisions that she was making. Sometimes, thinking about the bigger picture and trying to do the best for the entire country, he could lose sight of individuals.

And of course, there was the simple fact that she was Lacey, and he really liked her, and he enjoyed spending this time with her just because she made him happy. And, he liked to think, he made her happy. How they had managed to be so compatible despite being so vastly different was beyond him, but he was incredibly grateful for it. When he’d first gone into politics, he had let his personal life take a back seat, and when he had become Prime Minister, all thoughts of beginning a relationship had been parked firmly on one side - he had missed his chance and that was that. Now a great chance had been presented to him - in extraordinary circumstances, that was true - and he didn’t want to mess it up.

There was a soft knock on the door, and it startled Sutherland out of his reflections. He was still getting used to the layout of the new room, having decided that he really didn’t want to continue using the room that he had died in as his main office, and the door was in the wrong place according to his auditory memory.

“Come in.”

Carrie poked her head around the door. “How are you doing? Set the world to rights yet?”

Sutherland shook his head. “Of course not. The day I do that, I’ll instantly announce my retirement as I know I’ll never have it so good again. What about you?”

“Oh, I’ve still got plenty of things to be getting on with, not least of all getting to know all of your hugely increased security personnel. I definitely appreciate how seriously they’re taking all this, but it has played havoc with one of my cunning plans.” 

Sutherland raised an eyebrow. Carrie’s cunning plans ranged from rearranging all the potted plants in Downing Street to tricking obstinate MPs into voting for bills that needed votes. He glanced down at the paper in front of him and wondered how many they’d have to sweet talk to get this one to pass. He’d been working on the proposal as a pet project all summer, intending to present it when parliament reconvened, a new draft bill for changes to student loan interest rate caps. Lacey’s words during their time together had had an impact on him, and even if he never saw her again, he felt that trying to make her voice heard in the House would be a fitting way to thank her for everything she had done for him. 

“Anyway,” Carrie continued. “I was just checking that you’ll be all right if I clock off for the night. You know you can always call me if you need anything.”

Sutherland nodded. “I know. It’s just strange being back here. It’s as if nothing’s changed and everything has changed at the same time. I’ll only be partaking of hot beverages that I have prepared and that have not left my sight.”

“That’s my man.” Carrie crossed the room and patted his shoulder. “Anyway, I have a hot date with a local taxi driver to look forward to, so I’ll leave you to your brooding. Lighten up, it might never happen. And if you think about what’s already happened this summer, I’m pretty sure that you can survive anything that the opposition might throw at you.”

“Too soon, Carrie.”

“My apologies. Well, you enjoy your evening. I’m certainly going to enjoy mine, even if I’m slightly concerned that my mother might end up stalking me. Oh, by the way, I brought you a present.”

“I don’t know whether to be pleased or scared. Some of your presents are dubiously thought out at best, and I don’t think any of them could be opened in front of my mother.”

“Oh, this one definitely can’t be opened in front of your mother. I’m certain you’ll enjoy it though.” Carried winked and left him alone but a moment later, there was another tap on the door. 

“All right, what did you forget…” Sutherland trailed off as he looked up and saw that the person coming into the room was not Carrie, but Lacey.

“Surprise,” she said. “Carrie snuck me in.”

Sutherland looked down at his phone, at the last messages that had been exchanged between them only about fifteen minutes prior. She would already have been in the building at that point. 

Lacey’s smile faltered a little. “Are you… happy to see me? I mean, I can go away again…”

“No! I mean yes. Yes, I am very happy to see you, no, please don’t go away.” He stood up quickly, coming across the room and closing the door. “It’s just a bit of a shock, that’s all. It’s very good to see you.” He took her hand, making to lead her across to the sofa, but something made him stop, a ball of nerves. Despite their ongoing communication, this was the first time that he had seen Lacey in person since those fateful couple of days when the world was turned upside down. 

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted. “Is now the right time to tell you that I was seriously thinking about looking you up whilst I was down here again and asking if you wanted to go out somewhere?”

Lacey’s smile returned, although it did not quite meet her eyes. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared. Also, dating isn’t exactly the same kind of experience when you’re being shadowed by several security guards all the time. Even more security guards than usual thanks to recent adventures.”

Lacey laughed, and this time the humour did reach her eyes, lighting up her whole face. 

“Yes, I can see that would cause some problems. Would they sit at a different table or would it be a family affair?”

“You know, I don’t actually know what the etiquette is. I’ve never done it before.”

“Well, I’m happy to leave it as a mystery for now. I mean, we don’t need to go out to date, necessarily.” Lacey paused. “I was never really the dating type anyway; I don’t really know how I would go about it.”

“Yes. I haven’t done it for so long that I don’t really know how to go about it either.”

“Maybe we’re best off staying in and ordering takeaway. I happen to know a very friendly taxi driver who’d probably be happy to go and get it for us.”

Sutherland chuckled, finally chancing to take Lacey’s hand and lead her over to the sofa. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Carrie has plans with Ursula tonight and I don’t think that they involve food delivery.” Although, that said, Carrie had been all for encouraging his relationship with Lacey and had indeed been the one to get her into Chequers in the first place, so maybe she would be happy to help them on their way to becoming a proper couple. A rather odd couple, and one that the tabloids would no doubt get a great deal of mileage out of when they found out, but a couple, nonetheless. 

Lacey glanced over her shoulder at his desk as they crossed the room. “What did I interrupt?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you have a clear desk policy as the PM?”

“Ah, yes.” Sutherland rushed across to gather up the papers and shove them in his desk drawer, but not before Lacey had caught sight of his draft proposal. He plucked the sheet from her hand. 

“You took me seriously,” she said softly. 

“Yes. Your ideas were well thought out and whilst it was obvious that you were very impassioned about the topic, your arguments were coming from a place of reasonable thought and good logic rather than anger. You did most of the legwork, really, I just took everything that you said and put it into political terms.” He paused. “I can’t promise that it will get anywhere. The shadow chancellor’s probably already trying to shoot it down and he doesn’t even know that it exists yet, but at least it will bring the issue to the table and get people thinking about it.”

“I… I’m amazed. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sutherland shrugged. He hadn’t wanted to make it seem like he was doing it just to gain favour with her, or to make her feel like she owed him something in return.

“I didn’t want you to feel obligated.”

Lacey laughed. “You know, for a politician, you really do keep surprising me with how human you are.”

“I shall take that as a compliment.”

“You should.”

He finished tidying the desk and they finally made it to the sofa, sitting down close together. It was an easy closeness, falling back into the strange familiarity that they’d shared at Mrs de Ville’s house, and it felt so right, despite their long separation. 

“So, I might be a bit presumptuous, but…” Lacey reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of champagne. “I thought we might toast to our reunion. Since we’re not going out to a bar or anything. Also, it’s not actually champagne, it’s the only sparkling wine they had at the supermarket.”

“I’m sure that supermarket sparkling wine and champagne taste much the same when drunk out of coffee mugs, which are all I have in here at the moment.”

“Yeah, I don’t want you running off to find champagne flutes or I won’t see you again for about an hour, this place is a complete rabbit warren. I got lost about five times getting to this room and I had Carrie as a guide. You can’t get rid of me now. I’ll be here forever.”

Sutherland just slipped an arm around her as she put the bottle down on the floor, pulling her in for a long-awaited kiss. 

“You know, I think I could live with that.”

[askovertherainbowblog]

Do you ever feel like your government is actively working to institute a theocracy right under your very nose, and all anyone can seem to do is tweet? (I’m not knocking the art of the well-placed tweet, by the way. Case and point the account pictured above.)

Here’s what’s going on in my part of the world, which is Alberta (Commonly known as the bible belt of Canada):

The recently elected UCP (United Conservative Party #UnderHisEye) has, by its inaction, effectively canceled a work group dedicated to eradicating the insidious and abusive practice of “reparative” therapy for LGBT+ persons. Minister of Health Tyler Shandro has claimed on twitter that he told the group they were welcome to continue meeting. However, according to Emma Graney of the Edmonton Journal, his office released a statement that “The working group has disbanded with the change in govt.” AKA, they’re pretending the group (which included a survivor of conversion therapy) doesn’t merit focus because conversion therapy/torture “doesn’t happen here.”

If you dig a little deeper, you’ll see this simply isn’t true. Of course, nobody is coming right out and calling their services conversion therapy. That would be bad PR. The practice is couched in the language of soul-searching, healing trauma, and respecting individual faith. Alberta survivor Kevin Schultz was undergoing private faith-based counseling to realign his sexual orientation as late as 2007. Journey Canada, formerly Living Waters, which claims to help folks “experience Jesus in their sexuality” (kinky?) still operates across Canada.

If anyone is in doubt, the Human Rights Campaign and the Canadian Psychology Association can shed light on why conversion therapy/counseling of any kind is deeply damaging and can even be life-threatening.

The previous NDP government at least gave the appearance of caring about the LGBT community. The UCP gives the appearance of wanting to give the appearance of caring. In any case, I kind of wonder, why not just oh I don’t know BAN CONVERSION THERAPY AS IF WE WERE A CIVILIZED 21ST CENTURY SOCIETY? The UCP certainly hasn’t shied away from taking bold action on controversial issues (eg. lowering minimum wage for minors like a bunch of literal cartoon Scrooge McDucks).

This conversion therapy fustercluck is one move in an alarmingly swift series of policy change plans the UCP has begun rolling out since April of this year. They have also pledged to remove key protections afforded to GSA’s (Gay-Straight Alliances, common “safe space” organizations for LGBT students found in secondary schools). This means teachers could, at their own discretion, be permitted to notify parents if their child joins a GSA. This would obviously defeat the whole purpose of GSA’s and put children at greater risk of abuse at home.

When urged to consult experts on why this was such a monumental mistake, and questioned about the purpose of his party’s decision, premier Kenney had this to say:

"I think it would be very rare [for parents to be notified]," Kenney said. "Probably only [when] dealing with very young kids or kids with unique emotional and mental health challenges."

AKA, he has no idea what the repercussions could be and is speaking in “likelihoods” like some kind of fiendish gremlin under a bridge, desperate to grant you three wishes whose loopholes will ruin your life. (PS: Back in 2006 Kenney bragged about working to repeal a spousal law that allowed gay men to visit their dying partners in the hospital during the AIDS crisis. So that’s the attitude we’re dealing with here.)

If you’re curious about what other draconian policies the UCP has lurking just around the corner you can read up on their full platform, which includes such gems as scrapping the carbon tax, pausing the K-12 curriculum review, pushing for more private health care options, and something ominously called the “climate war room.”

If you, like me, are having some serious Handmaid’s Tale flashbacks right now, you’re not being overdramatic. The erosion of minority and women’s rights at the hands of backsliding democracies worldwide is not some fad. It’s a real thing that is happening all around us while shiny apps are being pelted at us as a distraction.

So let’s move on to what can actually be done. Before I list some ideas, I want to cover a few key points. We’re often advised, as constituents of a district or riding, to take action by writing to our political representatives! Here’s why I think that’s a waste of time: the current political climate is extremely polarized. It’s a buzzword because it’s true. If your MLA is conservative, and you write them a letter urging them to see things your bleeding-heart liberal way... well, why would they care? You’re not even a part of the voter base they’re targeting, and they know it. They don’t need your support. Alberta voters skew overwhelmingly right-wing already.

My advice is to follow the money.

A PAC (Political Action Committee) is an organization that pools campaign contributions from members and donates them to campaigns for or against candidates or legislation. Shaping Alberta’s Future is a PAC whose stated aim is to promote a conservative Alberta with Kenney at the helm. In 2018, they raised a whopping $170,000 in two weeks to fund UCP ads. Their financial disclosure documents are pretty lengthy and can be confusing if you don’t know what you’re looking for. That’s why I’ve broken down the info into a list of the major 5-figure contributors, all (you’ll be bowled over with shock to learn) men, most of them members of the Motor Dealership of Alberta for some reason.

For those of us who live in Alberta/Canada, that means we can do the following:

HERE is a link to a form letter addressing major donors to Shaping Alberta’s Future, politely urging them to bring matters of LGBT youth safety to the government’s attention.

HERE is a link to a list of specific donors, their contact information, and contribution amounts. This info can be filled into the indicated sections on the above letter.

Simply print, sign, and mail the letters to the addresses provided. Postage should be fairly inexpensive but if it’s an issue, take a photo of your signed letter and Canada Post receipt and I’ll etransfer you the value of your postage (within reason, guys!). If you can’t access Google drive, I’ll copy the letter to you by whatever method you prefer.

If you’d like to add information to the above list, or offer a correction, please message us or email askovertherainbowblog@gmail.com.

Additional things you can do (from anywhere):

Spreading the word always helps. Set up an email list or reddit thread. If you’re Albertan, print ten extra letters and ask a few friends to sign them. Pride month is just around the corner: bring a sheaf of letters with you to a parade and throw them in the air like confetti. (You’ll probably get some free condoms for your trouble; nice!)

Donations are not possible for everyone but if they’re possible for you, Youthsafe.net has a list of organizations that could use your support.

Stay vigilant. Read full articles covering both sides of the issues you’re investigating, and investigate in turn the veracity of your sources. Read posts from people you don’t agree with and, as infuriating as it is to have your person-hood invalidated by pseudo-scientific doctrine, pause to digest other points of view before formulating a vitriolic response. I’m not advising moderation (fuck moderation) but I am advising strategy.

Pursue local involvement. It’s tough to sit in front of a news cast in rural Canada and watch women in Alabama have their reproductive rights stripped from them, knowing a small donation to the ACLU is probably the most you can do short of upending your life to go on a march, and that won’t even move the needle much. But everyone, everywhere where voting happens, can march into a town hall and make their voice heard when it comes to the bullshit in their own community. The people around you want to get involved; they’re just not sure how to do it. Give them a means and they’ll stand beside you!

xoxo

[bave-de-crapaud]

Forbidden

Part Two

Sirius x reader Post-azkaban Sirius Lives Word count: 1400+

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, smut, 18+

Disclaimer: all characters are assumed 18+  Please do not read if you are under 18+

A workplace romance cannot possibly go awry, can it?

———————————————————————————————————

“Y/N! How was your Christmas?!” You jumped as Antheia approached your desk. “ I didn’t get a chance to wish you Happy Holidays at the staff party.”

“Oh? I was there until the end?” You replied fidgeting. “And then…and then I went home.” Not strictly a lie. You did go home after the Christmas party…just via Sirius’ bed first.

“Oh, You should have stayed!” She exclaimed sitting on your desk. “We carried on the night at Soho in central London. Apparently, according to the Muggle Liaison Office, it is where all the good clubs are!” She paused looking behind her, then lowering her voice “I ended up kissing Melvin from Accidental Magic Reversal Squad.”

“Did you?!!!” Maybe this Sirius issue wasn’t going to be problematic anymore?

“Yeah, but I wish it was Sirius.”

Ah crap.

“Did you see where he went afterwards?”

Eyebrows raised, flashes of you sitting up on your knees, a pair of hands; one holding your left breast, the other rubbing sweet circles on your clit while Sirius’ chest pressed against your back as he thrust up into you, ~”Oh Godric you feel so good Y/N!”~ breathing into your neck at each thrust.

“Well…” swallowing hard and preparing to admit to your betrayal. “Actually…”

“NEW YEAR MEETING STARTS IN TWO MINUTES! COME ON Y/L/N, PERENNA! CHOP CHOP!” You were saved by your boss shooing you into the Ministry entrance lobby where all first meetings of the new year, AGMs, and Evacuations were held; largely because it was the only space capable of fitting all Ministry employees in one room.

As you made your way to the first floor, Antheia was jabbering on about her Christmas. It was hard to pay attention as your looming confession swirled round your brain, taunting you.

You had thought about how you would tell Antheia, a lot over the holidays and each time you formed what you considered the ‘right words’ flashes of your tryst would play before your eyes…Stumbling into the hallway of Grimmauld Place, Sirius’ mouth devouring yours, throwing clothes left, right, and centre as you climbed the stairs before somehow breaking the kiss to find yourself in your underwear on Sirius’ bed.

“…so, I said no presents over 10 galleons!” Antheia continued not noticing you not noticing…Sirius kissing your inner thigh as he buried his face between your legs and giving you the best orgasm you had ever had…

“…a teapot! That’s what he got me!”

Scrapping your fingers down Sirius’ back as he entered you telling you how long he has wanted you, placing his forehead on yours as he steadied his breathing before sliding out of you and rolling his incredibly hard cock back in, hitting you just where you needed.

“…and then my Great Uncle Archie said he liked my gift but I could tell he was lying!” Antheia finished while you both perched on a bench at the back of the meeting.

“Mhmmm, that’s great.” You responded lamely.

Antheia turned to you, “Y/N, were you listening? You…”

“GOOD MORNING EVERYONE!” The Minister of Magic’s voice boomed over everyone cutting Antheia short.

“First of all, I would like to wish you all a happy new year. I hope that your holiday break was relaxing and rejuvenating…” As the Minister continued you once again became lost in your thoughts:

-Just tell her -She’ll hate you -You’d deserve it -But why? -Because she likes Sirius! -Yes, but you like him too, you just didn’t voice it before she did -Doesn’t matter -Does it? All’s fair in love and war -She’s still going to hate you -What if it was just that one time? Does it still matter? -Well…technically two times. You had sex twice that night.

Maybe it would be best not to tell her? It’s not like you would be dating Sirius, it was just one night and you wouldn’t see him again…

…come to think of it neither would Antheia. Maybe you could just chalk this up to a lesson learnt in the past: never get drunk at the Christmas party again. The whole night is a farce for lust and debauchery and bad decisions.

For the rest of the morning briefing you half listened to the new policy plans, objectives of the Minister’s Office.

Thoughts of the Christmas Party still leapt through your mind but instead of making you anxious they gave you a pleasant unsettling fluttery sensation in your abdomen.

The scraping of seats and increase in volume of general mutter brought you back to your senses. Getting up, you and Antheia turned towards the lifts to head back to your office, not noticing Madeye Moody striding swiftly towards you.

“PERENNA, Y/L/N!” Moody called not bothering to stop as he made to stride by.

“Meet me in my office in half an hour. Got something to discuss with you.” He growled passing you on route to the lifts leaving you both confused and looking at each other.

“Oh Godric, what has he done now?” You exhaled. Antheia shrugged her shoulders and made to follow Moody.

“I’ll meet you there.” You called after her. “I need a coffee before this I think.”

— ——

Walking down the hallway of the second floor towards Moody’s Office with a warm coffee in your hand, mentally preparing yourself for the mountain of writing you no doubt had to do thanks to Moody’s work ethic, you caught yourself wishing for the months when Sirius was here and you were able to focus on your other tasks without being overwhelmed by the Auror Office.

Shaking your head slightly, you knocked and then opened the door to Moody’s office.

It was a strange office. Large but packed with a plethora of dark wizard detectors; a collection of sneakoscopes on the windowsill, dark magic repellers lining the walls, propped up in a corner a long wooden wing shaped relic used years ago to find concealment spells on inanimate objects much like a muggle dowsing stick used to find water in the 16th century, bookshelves full of books on dark magic, wizard law, Defence Against the Dark Arts as well as a board complete with moving documents displaying photos of tracked or wanted wizards, their statuses updating in front of you in real time.

“Y/L/N, come in and sit down.” Moody called from behind his desk gesturing to a chair in front of you.

You were caught by Antheia, sitting to your right, wearing an expression of Incredulity and elation…that was strange?

“Happy New Year, Y/N.” You started. You knew that voice. A deep soft voice which caused a swarm of butterflies to take flight in your stomach and all the blood in your system rush to your head and display on your cheeks.

Sirius Black was standing to your left, taking a seat in the chair next to yours.

As his grey eyes locked with yours a tingling pulse crept up your body freezing you in position.

He looked good. Better than good. He looked handsome, and sexy, and you felt a pull to him immediately.

What was he doing here?

Answering your thoughts while pointedly indicating to your chair for you to sit, Moody explained. “The extra skills Sirius has added to our ranks as well as the relief to your workloads has been very successful. The Minister has extended Sirius’ contract for a whole year.”

“That’s a brilliant idea!” Antheia burst out.

“However, because we, the Auror Office, still have some…” he paused “some ‘adjustments’ of our processes to do, the Minister has suggested Sirius be the direct line of contact with you – this may help to cover any ‘errors’ the Auror Office makes in the line of duty.”

“Hrumpf!” Moody laugh-huffed. “Errors VITAL to obtaining CONSTANT VIGILANCE!”

“What about you, Moody?” You added hurriedly trying to avoid a lecture on how catching bad wizards is more important than unsettling the muggle population. “Do the Aurors still take direction from you?” Surely Moody wouldn’t let Sirius usurp him?

“Yes of course Y/L/N! I am still in charge! This way I can focus on catching dark wizards and not public perception.”

“So that means, any and all issues of public relations pertaining to the Auror Office, we are to speak to Sirius now not you!?” Antheia could not contain her glee.

“Correct. Sirius will liaise with you on my and all Aurors behalf.” Moody nodded while simultaneously and surprisingly gracefully, lifting his bad leg onto his desk before turning to Sirius.

Oh Merlin’s saggy y-fronts.

“Thanks Madeye. I’m looking forward to working with you Y/N.” Sirius’ deep voice did things to your nether region as he looked at you intently before correcting himself quickly, “…with you both.”

Tag List: @evyiione @belladonnarey @virgilwrites @emmamass24 @sirius-lysad @mylovelykelsifer @riddikuluslypotter

[saizoswifey]

Hi there! In one of your translations of Saizo’s act 2, shortly after Momochi asks teen Saizo if he would’ve killed his best friend if he knew the real betrayal reasons, the jp version said he wouldn’t. But the English version, it said he would. Do you know if this change was on purpose?

Hey dear! 

Okay, this is so interesting and I’m super glad you brought it up because I’ve actually been thinking about this so much since reading the EN route. 

That’s right. I’m back at it again with another god damn Saizo lecture broken down with bullet points and long comparisons like I'm teaching a friggin college course on the man hahah strap on in for some more Professor Wifey’s Saizology. 

So I don’t have any SS of this scene from Tenka unfortunately. So I can’t even double check to see what it says. That post you are referring to was based on translations I had done almost 2 years ago and logged away in my google drive. And regarding your question, there are some explanations as to why. 

The first is that I could have mistranslated that line. (it’s happened to me before! It will definitely happen again! pfft) I remember Momochi being a bit difficult for me to understand in some parts and I specifically remember going over and over those 3-4 slides in particular because it was such an important part and also because the way he (dingle bells) speaks and refers to people was odd and new to me so I was trying to grasp exactly what was being said about whom. 

If I mistranslated, it’s because of the wording he uses. To me, it truly sounded like ‘if you knew about it would you have listened to me?’ and Saizo said ‘no.’ The syntax is wonky to me.

And to me, it made sense in the end that Saizo wouldn’t have followed orders had he known. That would have been proof of his heart...The thing Momochi was trying to kill? I mean, if Saizo would have just killed Sanochika for any reason just because Momochi said to, then...why would Momochi need to go through all of the trouble with this plan? It’s so extra why wouldn’t he have just been like yeahhh Saizo you guys are getting too close you need to end him he’s weak and therefore weakening you. And according to the English version, Saizo says he’d just agree and do it. Sooooo....idk man. I’m glad you mentioned it because as I read in English I was also saying wait, what?? when that happened. Then my mind went into overdrive haha. 

If I WAS correct, (and I’m not holding my breath but hey, for 2yrs ago I think I got everything else pretty spot on aside from the fancy localization and tweaks they do to make it read smoother, so I'm not going to doubt myself too much haha!) then basically we have two sort of different versions of Saizo, honestly. 

That scene as I said was pretty damn important to building who Saizo is, where he was and how much he’s changed since then. Both are pretty impactful either which way you look at it, I guess. 

The Saizo that said No (JP)

would establish a Saizo that abides by the policy and moral code that he won’t just go around killing people for no reason. *(And sidenote buuuut: he’s stated in several other stories that he has a policy against killing people for any type of reason other than to fulfill his orders from Iga.)

would establish that although he will not enjoy having to end someone emotionally close to him, it’s not against his moral code and his intense loyalty to Iga will outweigh any other justification for not doing it (not killing, that is)

would establish that he’s always had a heart and morals but the chains of Iga were the last thing keeping him from fulfilling a life of no bloodshed

would establish that therefore the most difficult thing to overcome would be to finally break the bonds with Momochi, the person he trusted implicitly at one time, the person he had been devoted to and blindly followed orders from for his entire life. 

would establish that it was more focused on Saizo’s personal journey to break this way of life he had always entrusted and fell back on as a fail safe. In a sense, he could always hide behind Iga and not take responsibility for his actions. This was him finally taking responsibility for what he had done, deciding he did not want to use Iga as a scapegoat anymore, he did not want to continue taking lives on command, and therefore he had to face them and seize control back. 

The Saizo that said Yes (EN) 

(I also want to highlight here that the answer Saizo gives in English is that he would “more than likely obey.” Not a 100% yes. Saizo is the type to try and deny the humanity in him until he gets up to that moment and time and time again he ends up acting with humanity instead of the way he had predicted he would handle it. He struggled like hell even thinking he was guilty. We will never know canonically, so I will let you form your own opinions on what you think he would have done! )

would establish that Saizo has almost no moral code or policy to speak of. He will follow orders regardless and will kill even his best friend if told that’s what he needs to do. 

would establish that despite being obviously traumatized by what he had done to Sanochika, in almost any other instance it's not a case of moral grappling but rather just killing as a means to an end, no matter who or what circumstances. There’s less thought process involved. It’s detached.  

would establish that if this is the case, Saizo’s biggest obstacle is, in fact, himself, not Iga. 

would establish and imply that BECAUSE he has gone through life not really bothered by the way he lives, ONLY haunted by that one single incident, that the main focus of Saizo’s personal journey has not been about how devoted to Iga he is and how difficult it is to break free. His personal journey’s actual main focus has been about him learning to appreciate life (INCLUDING his own) and trying to overcome his own thought process to see the world in a new way. To grapple with the way he sees himself after MC helps him discover his moral compass. Grapple with the ways in which he starts to change, and the fact that he doesn’t understand the way his mind and heart work now. 

would establish that it’s not Iga that Saizo needed to be rid of in the end. He could have always left Iga, if he really wanted to. He had Yukimura!, and later and for a while, he had MC too. It was Saizo’s old self that he needed to defeat. Momochi manipulated him, terribly, but it wasn’t until Saizo was tired of being complacent in his own way of life that he was able to change it all for good. And he truly needed MC and Yukimura for that. 

And lastly, I believe these two versions of Saizo are actually synonymous, they’re the same Saizo. All of these aspects are present in this character that we read in event stories and main routes. Which is why I enjoy him so much. The layers are incredible. 

However, the ‘why’ on the importance of this line, then, is because of the fact that it comes from how Saizo actually views himself. Whether he said yes or no, that was his own thought on the matter. Which is why it changes his personal conflict/journey and not the character. 

So if they were to change it from one to the other, I think by looking above you can see that the JP Saizo would be a bit more tortured, passive, with a lack of control, an outer conflict he has to resolve. The EN Saizo comes off as more of a gritty character, cold and heartless, an internal struggle focus. Which I guess could be different enough to warrant a change between platforms? Though I really doubt anyone but me would sit here and contemplate all of what you just read, if you just read it. Lol. 

Either way, even if it’s a simple translation error and nothing more, it’s kind of interesting to dive into how one minor change such as that could create such different takes. 

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Black voters effectively delivered Hillary Clinton the Democratic presidential nomination in 2016. She and Sen. Bernie Sanders ran about evenly among white voters, but black voters overwhelmingly backed Clinton. So did the Democratic establishment.

That team-up — black voters and the more establishment candidate — is not unusual.

We don’t have detailed exit polls of Democratic primaries for most other offices, but according to pre-election polls and precinct results in a number of high-profile House and gubernatorial primaries since 2016, black voters have tended to back the candidate from the party’s establishment wing over a more liberal alternative. And at least for now, we’re seeing the same pattern in the 2020 Democratic presidential race: Sens. Elizabeth Warren and Sanders are fairly competitive with Joe Biden among white Democrats, but trail the former vice president substantially among black Democrats.

Why, though? After all, African Americans have dramatically less income and wealth than white Americans, so messages of “big, structural change” (Warren) or a “political revolution” (Sanders) should, in theory, be particularly appealing. Because a higher percentage of black Americans than white Americans don’t have health insurance, a program like Medicare for All, for example, would disproportionately benefit black people.

So what gives? I’m going to offer some potential answers to that question, but let’s first get a couple caveats and complications out of the way.

First, it’s hard to come up with a definitive explanation for the establishment-black voter alliance because the “establishment” is a fuzzy concept. Exactly which candidate is a center-left, establishment Democrat and which is anti-establishment or “the liberal alternative” is all a bit subjective.

Second — and this is important — black Democrats are not a monolith and are divided in some of the same ways white Democrats are divided. Young black voters are less supportive of Biden (and were less supportive of Clinton in 2016) compared to older black voters. Similarly, black voters without college degrees are more supportive of Biden than those with degrees.

That said, blacks of all demographics are more supportive of Biden than their white counterparts, according to Morning Consult polling data. Young black voters are more supportive of Biden (and were more supportive of Clinton) than young white voters. Older black voters were more supportive of Clinton than older white ones in 2016 and now are strongly behind Biden. Black college graduates are more supportive of Biden than white college graduates. Nuances aside, the weakness of the liberal wing of the Democratic Party with black voters is a well-known phenomenon that people in the Warren and Sanders camps and anti-establishment liberal activist groups are openly grappling with.

So here are a few explanations for why black voters have tended to side with the establishment wing of the Democratic Party. I have tried to order these explanations from strongest to weakest (in my view, at least):

Establishment candidates typically have existing ties to the black community

This will sound tautological, but an establishment candidate is … well … established. A candidate who is part of the establishment wing of the Democratic Party likely has fairly strong ties to major constituencies in the party, such as labor unions, women’s rights groups and, of course, black leaders and voters. So when black voters backed Gov. Andrew Cuomo over Cynthia Nixon in New York’s Democratic gubernatorial primary last year, or Andy Beshear over Adam Edelen in Kentucky’s Democratic gubernatorial primary earlier this year, that was not shocking. Not only did Beshear and Cuomo spend years developing their own ties with the black communities in their states, but their fathers did, too. (Steve Beshear was governor of Kentucky, Mario Cuomo the governor of New York.)

Clinton in 2016 and Biden in 2020 similarly entered the primaries with longstanding ties to black voters. It’s worth considering if the story here is not that establishment candidates are smarter in appealing and connecting with black voters during the campaign, compared to anti-establishment candidates. Maybe it’s that the establishment candidate in a race is likely to be the person who enters the campaign with the strongest support among black voters.

Black voters are pragmatic

White Democrats are significantly more likely than black Democrats to describe themselves as liberal. Perhap that’s the simple explanation for why most black voters eschew more liberal candidates. But scholars of black voters argue that the liberal-moderate-conservative framework does not apply well to predicting the actual policy positions and voting behavior of black Americans.

In other words, it’s not clear that “moderate” black Democrats are moderate in the way that the word is most often invoked in white-dominated, elite settings, such ascable news and Twitter. They’re not demanding David Brooks-style centrism on economic and cultural policy. If, for instance, Biden endorsed Medicare for All and the elimination of most private insurance plans — the position of Sanders and Warren — I think it’s likely that black voters who like Biden would begin to feel more favorable about Medicare for All rather than breaking with Biden to find an anti-Medicare-for All candidate. Similarly, if Biden were out of the race, I’m skeptical that much of his support among black voters would go to Mayor Pete Buttigieg or Sen. Amy Klobuchar who are also positioning themselves as centrists on policy issues.

“The fact that blacks describe themselves as moderate or conservative on these measures is virtually meaningless, and results mostly from the fact that these ideological labels carry such little currency among black voters,” Hakeem Jefferson, a political scientist at Stanford University who studies black political attitudes, told me.

Instead, in interviews with black Democrats in 2016 and 2020, I’ve seen more pragmatism than moderation. In 2016, black primary voters were very fearful of Trump getting elected and felt Clinton was the best person to face him in a general election. They were skeptical that the broader electorate would like Sanders’s farther-reaching ideas, and even more doubtful Sanders could execute them if elected. During the 2020 cycle, black voters have regularly told reporters that they like Sen. Kamala Harris and other Democratic candidates but view Biden as the person most likely to defeat Trump.

Why would black Democrats be more pragmatic than white Democratic voters? In interviews, black voters often suggest they have a lot to lose if a Republican takes office. They don’t necessarily say this explicitly, but the implication is that they have more to lose than white voters, making them more risk-averse. That’s at least partially true. A higher percentage of black Americans (compared to white Americans) use government programs like Medicaid, for example, so cuts to those programs by Republicans are more likely to affect blacks than whites.

“On doorsteps in South Carolina, black voters sensibly asked me why I thought Bernie Sanders could accomplish more than Obama, whom the Republicans had done everything they could to stop,” wrote Ted Fertik, in a study of the Vermont senator’s campaign.1

“They saw no reason to believe that Sanders would be more effective, and given the fulminating racism of so many leading Republicans, they sensibly felt that the costs of a Republican presidency would fall more heavily on them,” he added. “They were therefore not inclined to take a risk on Bernie Sanders … even when they agreed with his proposals.”

Black leaders are part of the establishment and support its candidates

This is a slightly different point than No. 1, above. It’s not just that Sanders in 2016 and Warren in 2020 entered those races with weaker connections to black leaders than Clinton or Biden. During the primary process, black leaders weighed in — on the side of the establishment candidate.

In February 2016, fairly early in the primary season, the Congressional Black Caucus’s PAC formally endorsed Clinton. Eight black caucus members have endorsed Biden this year. None are behind Warren or Sanders. You might say that politicians just like to endorse front-runners, so they can be on the side of the winner. Not quite. Ten black caucus members have backed Harris, another candidate whose politics are best described as center-left establishment. (More on her in a bit.) And Biden and Harris are also getting the vast majority of endorsements from other high-profile black figures, such as state representatives and prominent mayors.

Why are elected black officials more likely to side with establishment candidates? Many of these candidates have long courted black community leaders, including elected officials, as I mentioned in No. 1. But I also think it’s the case that many black Democratic elites spent much of the last several decades courting the establishment, and are thus tied to it. You see this on Capitol Hill, where black House members are among the strongest defenders of Speaker Nancy Pelosi in her internal battles with Rep. Alexandria Ocasio Cortez and the progressive wing of the House. Black elites also express the same pragmatism that black voters do and are wary of pushing forward candidates they view as unable to win a general election.

It’s not clear that black voters follow high-profile endorsers. That said, the lack of high-profile black support for Sanders, Warren and other anti-establishment Democrats creates a self-reinforcing problem. They don’t have much support among black voters or black elites, so the press covers their lack of black support. A candidate defined by the press as lacking black support is going to have a hard time getting black voters to support her or black elites to endorse her.

The liberal wing of the Democratic Party appeals to the well-educated more than other groups, and the vast majority of black Democrats don’t have college degrees

Education has become an increasingly powerful predictor of voting behavior in U.S. politics in recent years. That’s proving true in 2020 as well. Warren, in particular, has significantly more support among Democrats with college degrees than those without them. But if education is a dividing line, it’s likely to divide white and black Democrats. Only about 24 percent of black Democrats have college degrees, compared to about 42 percent of white Democrats, according to Gallup data.

In other words, the alliance between black voters and establishment candidates may be partly about education, not race. Perhaps Warren’s limited support among black Americans is simply indicative of her broader challenge with people without college degrees.

We don’t have great data about how Sanders or other liberal Democrats did among black college graduates compared to non-college educated black voters, so I’m reluctant to emphasize this point too much. But there is a lot of evidence that the activist left wing of the Democratic Party is more educated than the rest of the party and perhaps is not connecting with voters — both black and non-black — who don’t have degrees.

The left wing isn’t running enough black candidates

There is some evidence that African Americans are more likely to turn out to vote if there is a black candidate. (These studies are generally of general elections of congressional races, so they’re not perfectly analogous to a presidential primary.) In recent Democratic primaries, the candidate who is well-liked by the white liberal activist wing of the Democratic Party has struggled with black voters (Bill Bradley in 2000, Howard Dean in 2004, Sanders in 2016, Sanders and Warren in 2020.) The exceptions were two black candidates: Jesse Jackson in 1988 and Barack Obama in 2008.2

So it would probably be helpful if the liberal wing of the Democratic Party was running more black candidates. It’s not that the liberal bloc of the party has no prominent black voices. Rep. Ayanna Pressley of Massachusetts is a part of the Ocasio-Cortez bloc on Capitol Hill. Andrew Gillum ran to the left and defeated a more establishment candidate in last year’s Democratic primary for governor in Florida, with black voters playing a key role in his victory.

But aspiring black politicians often need to downplay their liberalism to advance in elected office so that they can seem “electable” in a general election. This probably rules out some black candidates — Sens. Cory Booker and Harris, potentially — from becoming “liberal alternatives.” You might say that’s a problem for Booker and Harris, who are trailing Warren and Sanders in most polls. But it’s a problem for the anti-establishment wing of the Democratic Party, too. If the anti-establishment wing of the party were backing a black candidate in 2020, that person would likely present a stronger challenge to Biden, because he or she could more easily cut into his advantage among black voters.

We could come up with some other explanations, but I think those are the strongest. And this analysis points to a blueprint for the left wing of the Democratic Party if it wants to win more black votes:

Align with black candidates or non-black candidates with strong ties to black voters and leaders

Aggressively court black leaders for endorsements

Directly address black voters’ concerns that more liberal candidates have a greater chance of losing races to Republicans

And target black voters under 45 and those with college degrees, who might be less inclined to vote for establishment candidates.

So could that approach work for Sanders and Warren against Biden? Maybe. You could imagine Warren in particular getting endorsements from younger liberal black figures like Gillum or Pressley (particularly if Warren wins one of the early primary states and Harris finishes far behind and is no longer viable). And maybe those endorsements and Warren’s campaigning then lead her to become the candidate of black voters under 45 and those with college degrees, even if Biden still gets most votes from older and less educated black voters.

Remember, Sanders or Warren don’t necessarily have to win the black vote to become the Democratic nominee — they just can’t lose it by 60 percentage points, as Sanders did in 2016. (Biden is getting between 40 and 50 percent of the black vote in most polls now, so nowhere near Clinton 2016 levels. But Clinton was in a two-candidate field, and I would expect Biden’s support among black voters to go up as this gigantic field shrinks.)

But even if Sanders or Warren gets more support among black voters in 2020 than the Vermont senator did in 2016, I tend to think Biden will remain fairly popular with black voters overall — because of his ties to Obama and other black leaders and the perception that he can defeat Trump. So there is a very real possibility that black voters will play the same role in the 2020 presidential primary that they have played in Democratic politics over much of the last four years: blocking the path of the liberal left as it attempts to dethrone the party’s establishment.

[angrybell]

Things I have to get off my chest about Senator Kamala Harris (aka why no one should ever vote for her)

So you think Kampala Harris is a really great candidate for president. Really?

Was she a good DA? Her first elected office. Well, no, she was not. Her office somehow managed to get less convictions at trial than her predecessor (believe me, if you knew the sordid history of what her predecessor did to the office, it would amaze you). SF Weekly did a review of her office and reported that her prosecutors, “won a lower percentage of their felony jury trials than their counterparts at district attorneys’ offices covering the 10 largest cities in California[.]” Yeah, LA county was outperforming her, and their jury pool back then was a nightmare for prosecutors.

Was she an honest prosecutor? Nope. She was found to have hidden information about a crime lab technician which was discoverable under California law. This was information she was legally required to turn over to defense attorneys. This lead to 600 convictions being overturned and dismissed for prosecutorial misconduct.

Since this was SF, a bluer than blue city in a deep blue state, she received a promotion to Attorney General. Failure and abuse of power was rewarded.

As Attorney General, she directed her office to cover up prosecutorial misconduct. What does that mean I’m plain English? She protected prosecutors who falsified evidence.

This was not a one time thing either. Her prosecutors were cited for this multiple times. Just like when she was the SF DA.

In one case, the local DA added lines to the transcript of an alleged confession. Without them, there was no admission of guilt. Basically, they falsified the confession, so that the defendant would plead guilty. The only way it was caught was because the defense attorney fought for the tapes of the interrogation and got them. Now, the trial judge, when shown the evidence did the right thing: he dismissed the indictment completely.

Then-Attorney General Harris, who likes to portray herself as noble for not opposing the Prop 8 lawsuit, instructed her appellate prosecutors to take the issue up on appeal. She literally told them to defend lying and falsification of evidence.

This case was not the first time she’d had been caught defending a known lie to the courts. In a series of cases coming out of the Sierra Pacific/Moonlight fires, the investigators committed more outrageous misconduct. The state agency, CalFire (which handles wildfires in California) basically hid/destroyed evidence. And the Attorney General’s Office helped cover it up.

The conduct of the CA DOJ under Harris was so egregious, the Ninth Circuit was talking about making a referral for prosecution for perjury during the oral arguments in the Baca case.

In the Baca case, there was evidence that the prosecutor had actually suborned perjury. Harris’ appellate team tries to sweep it under the rug. Harris has her prosecutors fight tooth and nail to deny the appellate court access to transcript of hearing where the perjury came to light.

Did Harris’ DOJ prosecute these rogue DAs for their crimes? Nope. Did any of the appellate attorneys within her own office suffer any consequences? From what I’ve read, not a one has been disciplined in any fashion.

Clearly, she’s happy to tolerate and protect corruption. Is this what makes her a good choice give her your vote?

As Attorney General, she tried to force non-profit groups to release their donor lists. She was of the opinion that the government had the right to know the identity of everyone who donated to every group. Why? There’s no reason except for the purpose of harassment. Which is exactly what was happening as soon as the non-profits handed over their donor information. Witnesses at the trial testified to being harassed and intimidated because their private information was leaked.

Put another way, do you want Trump to have this power? No? Then you shouldn’t want Harris, or anyone else to have this power.

Fortunately, this program of Harris’ was stopped by the federal courts. And before you say “oh it was because a Republican judge”, the judge who enjoined the program was appointed by Lyndon B Johnson.

One of the reasons the judge ruled against Harris was because it was clear that the purpose of her program was not a proper one. Judge Real wrote, “As made abundantly clear during trial, the Attorney General has systematically failed to maintain the confidentiality of Schedule B forms.”

It was not an accident that the information was leaked. It was by design. She was blatantly using her power as AG to oppress people who disagreed with her.

And you want to reward her with your votes and give her more power? Do you think that she won’t turn on you if you end up disagreeing with her?

Think about that.

What has she done as Senator? Has she sought to find a way to broker compromise on issues where that is possible? If you look at her voting record, that’s not the case.

Has she gotten any legislation passed? She’s sponsored 76 bills, resolutions, and amendments to bills. She’s gotten the same bill passed twice. She’s gotten a couple of Senate resolutions thanking various groups for their service (my favorite was Buffalo soldier one).

So what’s the bill she’s gotten passed twice? It’s to outlaw lynching. Something I find hilarious because for more than a century, the Democrats blocked anti-lynching laws in Congress. Of course, the last lynching happened in 1981, so clearly it’s a pressing matter. In case your curious, it was a unanimous vote.

Is this a demonstration of her political skill? Not really. Being opposed to lynching in politics is as controversial as being in favor the sun rising in the East.

Being a politician means more than just winning elections in a state that is so in your favor, with a party machine that picks its people according to the wishes of the party leaders (and she clearly has thei favor). It means getting things done. So far, she’s done nothing. She’s built no alliances. She’s moved no bills through Congress.

She hasn’t even gotten a post office named and Bernie Sanders has been able to do that at least once.

What is she good at? She’s good at getting media attention and showing up to celebrate hard fought victories achieved by other people. The scene of her showing up in The Case Against 8 is one of the most disgusting displays of political opportunism I’ve seen in recent years. They fought the case. They went through it all. And she swooped in for a fucking photo op after doing nothing but making sure their victory was incomplete.

She’s not a good politician. She a good media whore.

Is that what you want in the next person to take the oath as the next President of the United States?

Where do you stand on your civil liberties? She’s anti-2nd Amendment, which I realize is a plus for people who are inclined to vote Democrat. What should trouble you is that she is also opposed to the 1st Amendment’s freedom of speech guarantee. How do we know this? She has called for Supreme Court Justices to be conformed who would overturn Citizens United.

Now, I realize that the propaganda is that Citizens United allowed “bad” money into elections, but that’s not true. the holding of the case deals with the power of the government to restrain free speech. The case is about a small group of people, who formed a corporation, to speak out on certain topics. One of those was to oppose Hillary Clinton and her proposed policies. If SCOTUS has ruled the other way, the ability of people to get their voices heard would be subject to government restraint. Or to put it in clearer terms: censorship. It would ensure only the wealthy would have a say in elections (who else has enough money to self fund a protest movie? Or ad?)

Think it would only restrain groups like Citizens United (you know, the evil right wing ones)? Nope. It would also apply to unions, the Sierra Club, and all the other “good” groups.

She has some other troubling positions that implicate the 4th Amendment. She is in favor of law enforcement doing a DNA dragnet through commercial DNA testing services, looking for familial DNA to develop leads on cases. I don’t know about you, but giving the federal government free reign to develop a DNA database is troubling.

Senator Harris is also proponent of civil asset forfeiture. As much as detested the Obama Administration, at least they were trying to make it harder to do. She is so much of a fan, she tried to make easier for the government to forfeit your property. Now, if you don’t know what civil asset forefeiture is, you’re not alone. In my experience, it’s one of the least understood things that the government does by lay people.

Essentially, civil asset forfeiture (“CAF”) is a law that allows the government to seize the assets of criminals. Sounds harmless right? Well, it’s an easy power to abuse. Under CAF rules she was supporting, the state would be able to forfeit the property if there was a “substantial probability” that it was obtained by criminal acts. Now, that sounds good but it’s really a lower standard. Remember, to be convicted of a crime, you have to be convicted only if there is proof beyond a reasonable doubt. To make it worse, the presumption works against the person who has lost their property to the state asset seizure. You have to prove the negative. Prosecutors love this, because they almost always win (I do have the dubious honor of having lost one of these cases as a prosecutor).

So what does all this tell you? Senator Harris has a history of abusing power, violating the law, and protecting government corruption. If that’s how you like your candidates, then she a perfect choice. If you care about someone who will not intentionall violate the law, use the government to harass and intimidate her opposition, or be effective at upholding the law and constitution, find someone else.

Please stop rewarding her track record of failure and abuse of power!

[maptoourescape]

Hi 😉 I was wondering what was your take on Heidi being on tour with the guys and everything that happened since she joined them aka fans reporting she has this cold face when watching the show and the lack of interaction between her +her parents and the twins’ mother? I really loved your piece on the summercamp last year I thought you nailed it, thank you in advance and have a nice day/evening/afternoon 😊

Hey there!Oh man anon, where to begin? You’re in for a treat, because I think I’llunleash much more than what you’ve bargained for, for the simple fact that Ihaven’t really ranted out everything that I wanted on other social mediaplatforms lol. I guess I should start off by saying that my opinion on thismatter is still unaltered. If anything, the points I have made within my SummerCamp essay seem to only get more and more probable with each passing day.Whatever little hope I might have been harboring that maybe (by some miracle)I’m wrong – that she is actually nota rotten individual – just keeps disappearing with every horrendous attitudeshe decides to present next. And boy oh boy is she set out to be horrendous.Big yikes.Let’s get one thing out of the way first, (because some people still can’t grasp this concept, and Iwant to clarify it before I dwell any further): the reason why I’m bothered byKlum is not because of any pettyjealousy people claim I must be feeling towards her. I feel like it’s sounbelievably superficial and sexist to claim that – what is saidbetween the lines – I “must dislike this specific vagina, simply because I wantits rightful penis”. Literally what the fuck? I quite honestly wouldn’t touchTom with a ten foot pole (no offense to him, but I really would not). Evenentering their personal bubble for pictures makes me feel uncomfortable,because I don’t want to be perceived as one of those predators who give thewhole fandom a bad name after they dry hump them as soon as they’re in their radius,so there’s that. What I feel towards this band is just so pure, and so muchabove any petty groupie fantasy others try to project onto me, that theargument of “me being jealous” makes literal bile rise up my throat. It’s revoltingto me. Not only me, but to many other people as well – people who also don’tfit the mold of what those “higher-moral-ground-wannabees” claim they are.The reason why a shit ton of people dislike Klum is very simple: we all see thesame red flags rising when we observe her attitude. It most definitely hasnothing to do with anyone’s attraction towards Tom himself. I just cannotcomprehend this stupid narrative. Most of the fandom doesn’t consist of twelveyear old girls anymore, so give me a break (albeit I personally never thirsted after any of them at all, ever, so whatever).Some people who see that Heidi’s problematic are gay, by the way. Some peoplewho see it are happily married. Some even have children for crying out loud.Are they all jealous too, according to that narrow point of view?Noticing someone’s reappearing toxicity – especially when it is masses of very different people all noticingthe very same destructive behavioralpatterns – is simply concerning. Yeah, I know the popular counter argument is “why should you care then, youhave no ties to him?” Well of course that’s true. No, I’m not the band’simmediate family. I’m not their friend and neither do I work for them. But themen of this band have had a huge impact on my life, and their art has helped methrough so much shit over the years of my adolescence and beyond. If notanything else, it feels fair to thenat least be honest about when I think they might be getting into some deep shitthemselves. An act of reciprocated gratefulness and respect, if you will. Thekind of “you helped me, and now, even though I can’t exactly help you per sebecause we are strangers, the least I can do is to be sincere in my thoughts ofgenuine concern”. I mean, look, I said it once, and I’ll say it again: at the end of the day, marryingsomeone like Heidi is Tom’s choice to make – or well, in my opinion and forlack of a better wording, his own mistakein the making. I’m pretty much the last person in the world who can changethat, and don’t worry, I’m aware of that. And sure, at the end of the day, it’snot me who’ll have to live with her. It’s not me who’s gonna suffer the immediate consequences of it.But although it’s not going to be me ending up being potentially hurt, Tom’sproblems will, by default, extend to damage anyone who ever cared for him aswell. And we, as a whole (well, most of us), do care for this fucking band. Goddamn we do. Just like we cared whenBill had to get his surgery; just like we cared whenever any of them had a caraccident; just like we cared when Gustav got into that bar fight all those yearsago; just like we cared when we saw them being stalked and burning out in frontof our very eyes – just in the same way, we care now, because we see someonewho appears to be absolutely venomous protrude not only their personal lives, but the band as a concept as well.The very same band that was always a sort of escapism resort that EVERYONE (theband AND the fans) could always come to when everything “in the real world” wasgoing astray – now being quite literally invaded by outside forces withoutfacing any proper resistance.Honestly, at this point, I should probably stop being so surprised by whateverHeidi Klum does next. But I’m apparently too naïve, or maybe just simply toogood natured to actually expect half of the disgusting things she does. I couldhonestly keep my mouth way more shut if it was just a “behind the scenes Tomthing”. As said – it’s his mistake to make, and even though I’d still roll myeyes way into the back of my head at the lack of brain functioning he’sexemplifying on a daily basis, I’d still be able to not be this vocal about it if it were just a “Tom thing”. The problem isthough – this isn’t just a Tom thing any longer (if it ever was at all). Thefact that I’m furious and ranting about it left and right openly is because Tokio Hotel lets Tom’s girlfriend involveherself into the band’s affairs. That’s the reason I even wrote the entireSummer Camp Essay, and I see now that it was a sort of foreshadowing of graverthings to come.Can you believe it, I’m finally getting to your point lol. Now let us address thesestupidities one by one.Tokio Hotel may have started as a hobby, something that all four of them lovedto do above everything else and “just happened to turn into their job”. But atthe end of the day, a dream job is still a job. I’m pretty damn sure it isfrowned upon in any other setting or situation to just drag your “significantother” to your workplace, and let them effectivelyinterfere with your job policies. Seeing how the nature of their job is, I’mhonestly fine when it comes to family/girlfriends/friends or such visitingtheir concerts. If I would be in their shoes, I most definitely would have donethe same. Pretty sure most anyone would – who doesn’t want to share their art not only with strangers, but withpeople who are closest to them in life as well! I know I would! What I would never, though, is stoop as low as tobreak my professionalism and have my family/girlfriends/friends or such 1. SIGN MY DAMN POSTERS.Not only did she do that, she also clearly provocatively and without anyreasoning whatsoever signed the poster with hissurname and not even her own, even though she clearly keeps on signing hernormal everyday autographs with her “established” name. Anyone who has thebrain capacity to count to ten can understand that such is done for thepurposes of drama, and portrays nothing less but a toxic possessiveness of ateenage girl who needs to “mark her territory”. And such is coming from a supposedlyestablished 46 year old woman. The behavior exhibited just leaves mespeechless. And I am all the more concerned when I see people defending such occurrenceswith the adjectives of “cute,” stating furthermore that it’s “not a big deal”.How about you tell that this “isn’t a big deal” to a potential someone who wasonly on a VIP once, when this is the sort of memory they’d be left with at theend of the day?Of course some of us – a lot of us – come to the gigs more than once, andactually have a shit ton of VIP packages. But not everyone is that lucky, andnot everyone is willing or able to spend that much money on the band. It isdistressing for me to think that someone might have gotten this one opportunityto meet them, but then at the end of the day took home a poster that was signedby, quite honestly, a random person who has nothingto do with the band or their own personalexperience with the four men. It is beyond my understanding how the members canclaim to be oh-so-professional, but then let something like this slidecompletely.Half of me honesty hopes that she’s done it in secret. At least in that versionof the events, the band would have a “redeeming way out”, seeing how it wouldhave been done behind their backs. Somehow though, I kind of doubt that is thecase. And that’s what honestly gets me pressed the most. The sheer thought thatthey’d be willing to – in any way, shape or form – give a complete outsider any sort of autonomy when it comes to“band things”. And it would be even worse if they’d find such to be “funny” atthe end of the day, if we ever addressed the matter with them.See, realizing that Heidi Klum is toxic is one thing, because (newsflash) Idon’t care about Heidi Klum. It is,though, entirely something else when the guys let her maneuver her way insidethe band. Even if manipulated into it, they still most likely seem to give herthe freedom of doing almost whatever the fuck she wants, and to think of them – the people I actually do care about – to be this misguided, and this unprotective when it comes to all matters Tokio Hotel… see that’s what actually gets me going.At this point, it really feels as though Klum’s just testing her limits to seehow far she can go before someone within the band circle starts to question hermotives, and tell her that she maybe shouldn’t get too involved with their business(not that it matters, because people like her have a prepared victim card theycan play at any time, so she’d get out of it as soon as she notices she’sreached said limit by claiming to be but a poor soul who meant no harm).Apparently, she can push fairly far though, seeing how2. HER KIDS WERE BROUGHT ON STAGE.This one seemed to have stirred up even some heated Pro!Heidi people out there,and albeit I’m sad it took this long for people to realize there’s muchfishiness attached to the smell she emits, it was still good to see it was awake-up call at least for some. Now whoever’s defending this is, in my book, honestly just gross. It would be one thing ifthe kids would express the wish to go on stage themselves, but judging by theirreactions – so from just standing there awkwardly not knowing what to do, tostraight up hiding from the crowd – didthey really? But you know what, scratch that, for the sake of theargument, let’s pretend no adult person is as disturbed as to suggest such athing themselves (cough)… Even if this wasa longing of the kids’ own free will… who in their right fucking mind wouldever allow that? Who thought itwould be a brilliant idea to throw on stage some (give or take) ten year olds,only to be screamed at by a mass of people in a language they do not understand, being surrounded bypeople they do not know. Not tomention no-one could have predicted thepublic’s reaction??? Of course the general consensus is that it would becompletely disgusting to boo at actualkids, because at the end of the day, none of what the adults surroundingthem do is their fault at all… but it stillcould have happened. And given how everyone most likely knows that Klumisn’t really popular in our community, shouldn’t they have thought about the repercussionsof their actions before putting sucha plan in gear? This lack of brain function is completely beyond me.Whether it was the kids themselves asking for it and no one rejected them;Tom’s idea for wanting to please Heidi; Heidi’s own messed up concept; orsomething else entirely… my question is still all the same: how about someone thinks of the children’s wellbeing,instead of parading them around like circus animals? Yeah, people mostly complained about this because the VIP’s were coldly toldoff as secondary as soon as the kids got involved. But I just wanted to saythis honestly goes well beyond the argument of “people paying a 1000€ to beable to have the best day of their lives, only to be told they have literallyno priority above the kids who were there out of what seemed to be pressurefrom Heidi Klum to get the spotlight she so desperately thinks she keeps lacking”.It’s not just about money. It’s about so much more than just money. To prove a point and for the sake of this essay though, I’ll still bring thisother argument up too:Look, I am of a firm belief that buying a VIP buys you – first and foremost – anexperience, and only then (assecondary) the contents of whatever the package one chooses to do includes. Andexperiences as such can obviously vary. Sometimes you’ll see the band be in agood mood, but sometimes you’ll get the vibe that they seem kind of down and uninterested.Honestly, all of those are fine by me personally. Even if I meet the band onone of their “down” days, I’d still find it beyond interesting, because Irealized at the very beginning already that I’m investing in something that iswell beyond just “a purchase,” and has many differentials in its equation – asmany as there are human emotions. You can’t exactly purchase good mood, and so youcan’t ever expect everything to be perfect and smooth, because you’re buyingyourself quality time with real life, actual, flesh and blood people, who canexperience all and every single emotion you toocan experience yourself: from despair to complete euphoria and everything inbetween. I think most people actually realize this and don’t mind it too much if theguys are moody – mostly because they rarely show it anyway, keeping up theirprofessional mask and making sure everyone is enjoying their experience to thefullest. That’s honestly such a tough part of their job, and we probably don’ttell them enough how much we appreciate that they do their best all the time to“meet everyone’s expectations,” even when they could honestly just say “fuckit”. Only… they kind of said their deepestand ugliest “fuck it” when they allapparently in unity agreed, that they have no problem if some individualsinterfere with their fans’ experience. Individuals to whom the concept of beingthere literally meant little to nothing. Because it’s not like thoseindividuals were on stage with their four favorite people in the whole world.Because those individuals haven’t been saved by their music again and again for15 years straight. Because to those individuals – even if they ended up havingfun (which they actually did not, so that’s even WORSE) – standing there wouldonly mean two minutes of semi-fun and euphoria, while to some of the fans,those two minutes would mean the wholeentire world, an experience they would never forget and always cherish deeply.So no matter how you take it, this is about way more than just one grand. It’sabout what the band was conveying to its fandom when they allowed this tohappen. It’s about how it felt as though they themselves don’t grasp theconcept of how much this means to some people. Of being ignorant on how much ofan impact they truly had on us in the years of our lives that we devoted tothem. About marking a clear void between the two fractures of “us” and “them,”putting themselves on a higher pedestal. Not to mention the fractures seem tobe opening up in between themselves as well, with other3. PEOPLE THAT ARE CLOSE TO THE BAND NOT BEING THAT ACCEPTING OF KLUM EITHERThe following includes both my personal experience, as well as experiences offriends that have been to concerts with and without me though the entire tour.While I have not seen Klum in Munich, (because I did not want to see her in Munich, and didn’t bother to turn my head evenremotely, because I just wanted to enjoy my time), my friends have all told mewhat I would suspect would be the case anyway, so you’re completely right onthe cold bitch-facing throughout the concert. Klum only ever cracks a propersmile when someone pokes her to ask for a selfie, finally satisfied that she’dgotten her share of the attention she so much craves and desires. Not even forjust the gig I’ve been to, but for the rest of them that are happening rightnow – people have all been telling me pretty much the same thing, again andagain, and there’s even been videos of her during the concerts to support theseclaims. Claims of “film, bitch-face, rinse and repeat”. Occasional jump andclap to not seem too out of place, maybe, but ones that aren’t even remotelyovertaken with any sense of pride or overflowing joy.One would expect of Mrs.ObsessedWithTheSurnameKaulitz to at least sing alongwith the songs, but she can barely manage Melancholic Paradise lyrics out ofher throat. Not to be prickly now – I’m not saying that that knowing TokioHotel songs by heart would or should be an indicator of the “true love” sheclaims to be experiencing towards Tom, but seeing the contrast between her andGustav’s wife or Georg’s girlfriend in this regard is just baffling. Not evenfor the fact that the two of them don’tseem to possess an apparently unstoppable itch when it comes to oversharingtheir enthusiasm on social media, but for the pure fact that they just plainobviously don’t have to create a social media hoax in order to portray theirgenuine happiness. Such namely always clearly shines on their proud faces,while Klum is the living example of what those girls who get front row looklike, who spend literally 2 hours of their ENTIRE concert just filming Tom fromup close, because apparently having 200gb of HD thirst footage of your iphonejust means so much more to some individuals than just enjoying and feeling the actual music seep through theirveins. But I digress.I didn’t really think too much about what either side of the parenthood isdoing – like you, I have heard mixed reports on that regard, because I know forsure the both mothers got along pretty well when they visited the concert inCologne, while on other occasions, fans have reported it might’ve not been likethat at all. All in all, I’m not bothering with them a lot, because no matterwhat their perceptions of their kids’ relationship is, it doesn’t seem to methey’ll have any sort of proper influence over it. The only thing I think I canpretty confidently claim is that both of the Gs partners aren’t all too fond ofher. You always see them separate from her on the gigs they do happen to attendtogether, and I haven’t seen them interact even once on Camp where there wereplenty of opportunities for them to do so.Besides that, everyone else is honestly still a damn mystery to me. All the wayfrom Bill and Andreas, to the Gs themselves – I still have no idea if they’rereally just that dumb to not noticethe very clear toxic patterns she is exhibiting, or if they just choose toignore the matter and let it slide again and again because Tom is, as of now,pretty much untouchable when it comes to the topic of her. Anon, I’m honestly dumbfounded, when it comes to this, Ireally am. Because even though I have pretty solid theories as to how Tom endedup being in this situation he’s in, I have still yet to find explanations forothers to not point out how disturbing it all is in retrospective.My options? They’re either:a) all just as manipulated as he is,b) all really lacking in the department of any sort of emotional intelligenceorc) their hands are actually tied, as they let him ride off his inexplicable exhilaration.But let’s be honest, what are the chances that everyone is faling for her tricks? What are the chances that everyone is emotionally backwards? My bet is that at least someone is seeing what’s going on here, but they just can’t do shit because Tom is so set to be stuck in his idealism.While we’re at this “undying euphoria” of his, can you just let me quicklybarge in with a major pet peeve I’m experiencing with Tom recently? Namely thefact of how he keeps glorifying Heidi as his “one and only true love,” and “somethingthat’s never happened to me before” and all the talk about how “the happiestday of his life is yet to come”. Ex-fucking-cuse me? I love Tom’s not-all-that-quirky-little-twelve-year-old-humorpersonality he pulls sometimes, but exclaiming all that just makes him seem beyond childish. In a way that is, to mepersonally, just very unpleasant. Irealize that he might have been fucked over and hurt more than we can possibly imagine,but to claim so impulsively and nonchalantly that “this is the first time he’sever been in love,” while being in a longass relationship before and even marryingbefore is just beyond disturbing. You can never take lessons from yourpast if you don’t learn to accept it, and this gives me all the more proof thatTom never really did processwhatever has happened between him and his ex-wife (which honestly doesn’t comeas a surprise). I’m stuck between being disappointed, because I though he hadit in him to work through his demons, sad for him that he doesn’t seem to havethe ability to do any sort of soul-searching, and just plain angry that he hasthe audacity to just ignore such a huge chunk of his life as if it didn’thappen whatsoever. Now that I’ve got that off my chest, I guess I might touch up on the fact thatshe4. SEEMS TO BE RANDOMLY INTRUDING VARIOUS Q&ASWhich people surprisingly also seem to be “okay with,” simply because the Gs’partners are both also sometimes present. Well guess what, even when the othertwo are listening in to a Q&A, it really isn’t the most professional. But atleast they have the decency to notshowcase a moment that was meant to be private to 6 million people. Weunderstand, the mighty Klum is above the petty rules of the peasants, no need to keep on ruining the only possibleprivate moments fans ever get to have with the band. “But what’s beenruined? You still get your Q&A, you still get your picture, what are youcomplaining about?” I hear people ask. I mean, first of all – the picture to meis just a little extra cherry on top which I can totally live without anyway(especially if it’s a solo one, seeing how they are really pressed about group picturesthis time around, and that’s the only one actually worth having in my book). Theactual reason for which I’m buying these VIPs are the Q&As. I love to talkto the guys, and I love it when they are raw, and completely unfiltered, anduncensored, and sincere with their fans, and when their appreciation for usactually sitting there and giving them good conversations comes through. Throw in a Heidi, and what do you get? Do peoplereally think their answers wouldn’t sway from what they could have been withouther presence? Do people really think Tom would be as genuine in his answers ifshe’d be lurking from the shadows? Do people really think she wouldn’t start pullingtheir attention from fans towards her eventually if she so wished? I’ve seen ithappen once on Camp, so I’ve no doubt she’d do it again if she simply felt likeit. And that’s just purely a no-go. Let them work. It’s half an hour of a day.Let the fans have their moment with their favorite artist. Stop intrusively insertingyourself in every situation that is humanly possible of inserting yourselfinto. This fandom doesn’t care about you. Get over yourself.I bet I’ll be able to give you way more emotionally charged info in that regardafter Saturday, where she’s almost bound to make a scene, seeing how it’s herbirthday.Ah, Saturday. A thought that should genuinely excite me. A Tokio Hotel concert,a meet and greet even! Tomorrow! Precious moments with the band that I’ve beenfollowing for more than half of my lifenow. Meeting people that have inspired me to become what I am, taught methat being me is enough.And so tell me, why do I feel anxiousnesswhere there should be happiness? Whyis my first thought “oh no,” instead of “fuck yes”? Why do I just keep thinkinghow “I don’t want this to be made into a random circus about a random assperson,” and how I desperately “crave to simply enjoy my show, with my music,and my band, nothing else”. What is the reason behind me being concerned about going to a TH concertinstead of being out of this worldexcited to the point of denial as I’ve always been?Well, your answer has a name and a surname. And she’s pushing this fandomfurther away from the band, one person at a time.I won’t even go into the stealing a M&G photo and editing out the fan part.I’m exhausted. If by now people haven’t caught up on her sheer deranged stateof mind, then it’s beyond me. All I can ask of you now, anon, is to cross yourfingers for me, and hope that I end up this tour on that same high note that Iwanted it to end, even if I picked the utmost worst date to do so. And crossthem then some further, in case it all goes south and they bring her out onstage and want to make me sing happy birthday to her, making everyone feelactually obliged and required to give two flying fucks about her. Because then,I’ll need all the willpower in the world to not get drunk and just tell themoff, speaking honestly about how what they’re doing is plain unprofessional,and that I want my 4 member band back, because I never fucking signed up for a5th one.Sorry if this is too much of a mess or didn’t exactly go into any psychological-research if that’s what you were expecting. If you have further sub-questions (want me to further elaborate on the manipulative behavior maybe), or want me to have a go at specifically just the parent issue, do let me know, and I’ll be sure to give it some more thought and answer further. But right now, it just really felt good to vent, so thanks for giving me that opportunity nonnie! And thank you for appreciating my posts!

[kasnoyoullgetintrouble]

On Maters Related to Love- WIP

(I don’t know when I will finish this but I thought I might as well post what I have so that I won’t forget about it, so take my half finished oneshot about how lovable Zevran is)

                       Contrary to popular belief amongst their rag tag crew of misfits, witches, and other undesirables, Zevran and Valonyla’s relationship wasn’t just  sex. If Valonyla had to put it on a scale of sorts, she would say at least 47% of their relationship was about sex. For some that number was too high, for others it was to low but in Valonyla’s opinion, it was just right. Their chemistry was just right, Zevran’s wiliness to try new things was just right, the pleasure was just right, everything was just right. That wasn’t to say, however, the sex was bad or average, the exact opposite actually. The sex was absolutely mind blowing, just as Zevran had proclaimed, but it was the ‘no strings attached’ policy the came with it that made the whole dalliance just right for Valonyla.

                       Valonyla wasn’t looking for a steady relationship, especially not after what happened to Nelaros back in Denerim. Granit, the two city elves never really had a ‘steady relationship’ since they had literally just met before the incident but it was something Valonyla had desperately hoped would come with their marriage. She had hoped to just settle down, to start going steady, and to begin the family she had so desperately prayed for when she was young and bright eyed. But what did she get? She got nothing but bloodshed and the fate of all of Fereldan placed on her shoulders.

                       So, what if she didn’t want something ‘steady’ now anyways? Valonyla didn’t want it and according to Wynne, she shouldn’t have it either. As a Grey Warden she needed to stand vigilant and strong, a beacon for hope and the warrior of peace. She needed to place the lives of others above her own because that was what she, albeit begrudgingly, signed up for. And although it would have been nice if Duncan were to have explained all this to her earlier, rather than have some old bitty from the Circle do it instead, Valonyla decided not to brood over it like she once had after meeting Wynne.

                       It was because of all these things that Valonyla gave so little fucks on how others felt about her and Zevran’s relationship because it wasn’t inherently wrong and Valonyla, in her opinion, deserved some pleasure from the whole Blight ordeal. They were friends (at best), who bonded over slightly crude jokes, their infatuation with knives, and their mutual approach to casual sex. If something happened to Zevran Valonyla would, no doubt, be sad over the lose of a good friend but she could live on and continue her duty as a Grey Warden because of what they were, friends. The sex was an enjoyable side benefit that Valonyla would fight anyone over if they ever dared to tell her how ‘inappropriate’ it was considering her ‘duty.’

                       It was this ‘duty’ that kept her from many things. A warm bed, decent food, a roof over her head and, most of all, companionship. Sure, Valonyla had the rest of her misfits to lean on but that wasn’t companionship, it was trust and a few unfortunate events. Though the terms were rather similar, companionship meant more to Valonyla because it was a choice she had made to be a part of. Trusting someone was easy given the right circumstances but finding someone you enjoyed spending time with was difficult, especially so considering Valonyla’s circumstances.

                       And that was what made up the 53% of her and Zevran’s relationship, companionship. It didn’t mean they were dating or romantically involved, as Wynne would put it, but from the outside looking in it rather seemed that way. Valonyla didn’t want it to be love, because love was just too much for her now already cluttered plate. Love was the knotted ball of yarn Wynne joked about herself unraveling as she knitted stockings or the glittering necklace that adorned Morrigan’s chest. Love was everything Valonyla would rather push away into the deepest crevices of her mind and burry with thoughts and memories she hoped to forget someday because it was, ultimately, pretty and complicated.

                       But companionship was different. Companionship with Zevran was late night poetry readings, which where done in outrageous Antivan accents that left Valonyla laughing her way into tears late in the night. Companionship was Zevran sweeping her up into a dance around the campfire, only to look like idiots in the process because they needed an excuse to touch, to hold one another. It was also the two bickering over which boot, leather or fur, was better just because hearing the other’s voice was comforting. It was… well you get the gist.  

                       Although it might seem like love it was, under no circumstances, love. Valonyla forbid it because she did not want something as complicated as love in her life after all the shit she had been through and she was sure Zevran was no different in that regard. Of course, as fate may have it however, things were bound to change.

                       They had just gotten done with one of their little ‘romantic escapades’ in Valonyla’s tent, leaving her exhausted but buzzing from orgasm. Had they done this earlier in their relationship Zevran would have been gone by now, suited up and ready for battle as he marched off towards his own tent for the evening, now not so much. Valonyla laid sated and naked, covers wrapped around her hips leaving her chest exposed to the amber light emitting from the lantern beside her. Zevran, on the other hand, was leaning over Valonyla, his face hidden in shadows but his golden eyes shining with curiosity as he traced patterns over her skin.

                       Now, Zevran chose to stay. Valonyla wasn’t sure when it started happening, but she didn’t particularly care either.

                       His fingers traced tantalizingly against her skin from the soft spot behind her ear that made Valonyla’s toes curl, down to the dip in her collarbone and then to the valley between her breasts. There was something reverent in Zevran’s touch, even as he mapped out every scar that marred her chest or belly, his touch stayed tender and soft. It was a strange feeling, something Valonyla had never been accustomed to before now, with anyone. Anytime someone got this intimate with her, their touches were heated and passionate like a roaring fire in the winter and when everything was all said and done the fire was subdued and all that was left was the cold. What Zevran was doing made her feel special, maybe even important. A part of Valonyla whispered she should stop him, that Zevran was crossing a line she needed to keep for the two of them to allow this casual fun to continue with no strings attached, but it was quickly smothered when Zevran placed a gentle kiss one of her nastier scars on her abdomen.

                       She liked it, Valonyla really liked it, but she just couldn’t understand why.

                       “V, might I ask you a question?” Zevran whispered against her pale skin, his breath sending a slight tremor up her spine.

                       Valonyla looked down at Zevran, giving her response little thought because in her eyes, it didn’t need any. “Of course.”

                       Zevran smiled at her lack of hesitance before his eyes dipped back down to her abdomen. Following his gaze, Valonyla’s mouth formed a small “O” as she realized what his question might be. He was looking, and now tracing, the small but angry looking scar located directly above her hip bone. It was a nasty looking thing that Valonyla had come to terms with long ago that it would never simply ‘go away’ like Soris had told her. The skin puckered and appeared misshapen in its heap of discolored and mutilated flesh leaving a permeant eyesore for all to see.

                       When she glanced up to see Zevran’s reaction, however, it made her eyes go a bit wide and her chest tighten. His expression didn’t appear disgusted but instead looked painfully sad, worried even. She reasoned he was just imagining the pain behind such a horrendous wound, but the way his eyes shimmered and his lips frowned told her otherwise. It told Valonyla he really truthfully cared, and the thought was almost physically painful because that wasn’t what their relationship was about, or at least it shouldn’t be.

                       But, like most things that bothered Valonnyla in her life, she pushed the thought into the back of her mind and averted her gaze from his handsome face and back to her abdomen.

                       “You want to know how I got that beauty?” Valonyla asked, masking her alarm from earlier with her usual sarcasm.

                       Zevran laughed with that stupid yet insanely charming laugh he reserved for their evenings together, which nearly left Valonyla undone. The laugh was like silk against smooth skin and the feeling of wine slithering down one’s throat, deliciously sinful. Valonyla thanked Andraste in that moment that the sound had graced her ears yet again, even if it did make her seem a little foolish.

                       “Yes, very much so,” Zevran paused, brow furrowing in thought before he turned to look at Valonyla. “Unless it is something you wish not discuss then, I won’t pry.”

                       Valonyla blinked at Zevran owlishly for a moment, her mind and heart racing under the sudden onset of emotions. Shockingly enough it didn’t feel like Zevran was prying, even if the scar was