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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 months ago

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Like her or not, we're now on the same side and this woman knows what she's talking about. She suggests actionable steps steps we must take to win ourcountry back from the fascists.

From Liz Cheney

Dear Democratic Party,

I need more from you. You keep sending emails begging for $15,while we’re watching fascism consolidate power in real time. This administration is not simply “a different ideology.” It is a coordinated, authoritarian machine — with the Supreme Court, the House, the Senate, and the executive pen all under its control. And you? You’re still asking for decorum and donations. WTF. That won’t save us. I don’t want to hear another polite floor speech. I want strategy. I want fire. I want action so bold it shifts the damn news cycle — not fits inside one. Every time I see something from the DNC, it’s asking me for funds.

Surprise. Those of us who donate don’t want to keep sending money just to watch you stand frozen as the Constitution goes up in flames — shaking your heads and saying, “Well, there’s not much we can do. He has the majority.” I call bullshit. If you don’t know how to think outside the box… If you don’t know how to strategize… If you don’t know how to fight fire with fire… what the hell are we giving you money for? Some of us have two or three advanced degrees. Some of us have military training. Some of us know what coordinated resistance looks like — and this ain’t it. Yes, the tours around the country? Nice. The speeches? Nice. The clever congressional clapbacks? Nice. That was great for giving hope. Now we need action.

You have to stop acting like this is a normal presidency that will just time out in four years. We’re not even at Day 90, and look at the chaos. Look at the disappearances. Look at the erosion of the judiciary, the press, and our rights. If you do not stop this, we will not make it 1,460 days. So here’s what I need from you — right now:

⸻

1. Form an independent, civilian-powered investigative coalition.

I’m talking experts. Veterans. Whistleblowers. Journalists. Watchdog orgs. Deputize the resistance. Build a real-time archive of corruption, overreach, and executive abuse. Make it public. Make it unshakable. Let the people drag the rot into the light. If you can’t hold formal hearings, hold public ones. If Congress won’t act, let the country act. This isn’t about optics — it’s about receipts. Because at some point, these people will be held accountable. And when that day comes, we’ll need every name, every signature, every illegal order, every act of silence—documented. You’re not just preserving truth — you’re preparing evidence for prosecution. The more they vanish people and weaponize data, the more we need truth in the sunlight.

⸻

2. Join the International Criminal Court.

Yes, I said it. Call their bluff. You cannot control what the other side does. But you can control your own integrity. So prove it. Prove that your party is still grounded in law, human rights, and ethical leadership. Join. If you’ve got nothing to hide — join. Show the world who’s hiding bodies, bribes, and buried bank accounts. Force the GOP to explain why they’d rather protect a war criminal than sign a treaty. And while you’re at it, publicly invite ICC observers into U.S. borders. Make this administration explain — on camera — why they’re terrified of international oversight.

⸻

3. Fund state-level resistance infrastructure.

Don’t just send postcards. Send resources. Channel DNC funds into rapid-response teams, legal defense coalitions, sanctuary networks, and digital security training. If the federal government is hijacked, build power underneath it. If the laws become tools of oppression, help people resist them legally, locally, and boldly. This is not campaign season — this is an authoritarian purge. Stop campaigning. Act like this is the end of democracy, because it is. We WILL REMEMBER the warriors come primaries. Fighting this regime should be your marketing strategy.

And let’s be clear:

The reason the other side always seems three steps ahead is because they ARE. They prepared for this. They infiltrated school boards, courts, local legislatures, and police unions. They built a machine while you wrote press releases. We’re reacting — they’ve been executing a plan for years. It’s time to shift from panic to blueprint. You should already be working with strategists and military minds on PROJECT 2029 — a coordinated, long-term plan to rebuild this country when the smoke clears.

You should be publicly laying out:

• The laws and amendments you’ll pass to ensure this never happens again• The systems you’ll tear down and the safeguards you’ll enshrine • The plan to hold perpetrators of human atrocities accountable • The urgent commitment to immediately bring home those sold into slavery in El Salvador You say you’re the party of the people? Then show the people the plan.

⸻

4. Use your platform to educate the public on rights and resistance tactics.

If they’re going to strip us of rights and lie about it — arm the people with truth. Text campaigns. Mass trainings. Downloadable “Know Your Rights” kits. Multilingual legal guides. Encrypted phone trees. Give people tools, not soundbites. We don’t need more slogans. We need survival manuals.

⸻

5. Leverage international media and watchdogs.

Stop hoping U.S. cable news will wake up. They’re too busy playing both sides of fascism. Feed the real stories to BBC, Al Jazeera, The Guardian, Reuters, Der Spiegel — hell, leak them to anonymous dropboxes if you have to. Make what’s happening in America a global scandal. And stop relying on platforms that are actively suppressing truth. Start leveraging Substack. Use Bluesky. That’s where the resistance is migrating. That’s where censorship hasn’t caught up. If the mainstream won’t carry the truth — outflank them. Get creative. Go underground. Go global. If our democracy is being dismantled in broad daylight, make sure the whole world sees it — and make sure we’re still able to say it.

⸻

6. Create a digital safe haven for whistleblowers and defectors.

Not everyone inside this regime is loyal. Some are scared. Some want out. Build the channels. Encrypted. Anonymous. Protected. Make it easy for the cracks in the system to become gaping holes. And while you’re at it? Stop ostracizing MAGA defectors. Everyone makes mistakes — even glaring, critical ones. We are not the bullies. We are not the ones filled with hate. And it is not your job to shame people who finally saw the fire and chose to step out of it. They will have to deal with that internal struggle — the guilt of putting a very dangerous and callous regime in power. But they’re already outnumbered. Don’t push them back into the crowd. We don’t need purity. We need numbers. We need people willing to burn their red hats and testify against the machine they helped build.

⸻

7. Study the collapse—and the comeback.

You should be learning from South Korea and how they managed their brief rule under dictatorship. They didn’t waste time chasing the one man with absolute immunity. They went after the structure. The aides. The enforcers. The loyalists. The architects. They knocked out the foundation one pillar at a time — until the “strongman” had no one left to stand on. And his power crumbled beneath him. You should be independently investigating every author of Project 2025, every aide who defies court orders, every communications director repeating lies, every policy writer enabling cruelty, every water boy who keeps this engine running. You can’t stop a regime by asking the king to sit down. You dismantle the throne he’s standing on — one coward at a time.

⸻

Stop being scared to fight dirty when the other side is fighting to erase the damn Constitution.

They are threatening to disappear AMERICANS. A M E R I C A N S. And your biggest move can’t be another strongly worded email. We don’t want your urgently fundraising subject lines. We want backbone. We want action. We want to know you’ll stand up before we’re all ordered to sit down — permanently. We are watching. And I don’t just mean your base. I mean millions of us who see exactly what’s happening. I’ve only got 6,000 followers — but the groups I’m in? The networks I touch? Over a quarter million. Often when I speak, it echoes. But when we ALL speak, it ROARS with pressure that will cause change. We need to be deafening. You still have a chance to do something historic. To be remembered for courage, not caution. To go down as the party that didn’t just watch the fall — but fought the hell back with everything they had.

But the clock is ticking.

And the deportation buses are idling.

* * * *

UPDATE AND NOTE:

I have received (what seems like) several hundred copies of a document allegedly authored by Liz Cheney entitled, “Democrats, I need more from you.” The “letter” was not authored by Cheney, but by someone who does not appear to have a readily identifiable profile as a pro-democracy activist. The purported author, “Dr. Pru Lee,” may not be the real identity of the author.

Setting aside the mysterious source of the letter, it has struck a chord with many Democrats. Indeed, many of the copies forwarded to me are accompanied by emails that express some sense of satisfaction that the author has criticized the Democratic Party for its failures and laid out a sensible plan for a path forward.

I suspect the letter was written by a Democratic consultant or insider who is upset with the progressive wing of the party and/or the grassroots movement. The author says, in part,

Yes, the tours around the country? Nice. The speeches? Nice. The clever congressional clapbacks? Nice. That was great for giving hope. Now we need action Don’t just send postcards. Send resources.

Many of the “recommendations” in the letter aren’t realistic—either in a reasonable timeframe or ever. For example, the letter demands the Democratic Party

Form an independent, civilian-powered investigative coalition. Deputize the resistance. Join the International Criminal Court. Fund state-level resistance infrastructure. Stop campaigning. You [the Democratic Party] should be publicly laying out: • The laws and amendments you’ll pass to ensure this never happens again • The systems you’ll tear down and the safeguards you’ll enshrine • The plan to hold perpetrators of human atrocities accountable.

I endorse the author’s passion and understand how the author has managed to channel the anger of rank-and-file Democrats toward their party. But it simply isn’t productive or helpful during this moment of crisis to devote our resources to attacking the Democratic Party.

Here’s a thought experiment: If you have forwarded the above letter to your closest one hundred friends and relatives, try drafting a sequel that begins, “Dear Republicans, I need more from you . . . .”

The virtue of the “Dear Republicans” version of the letter is that it shifts the focus to where it belongs: On those who are enabling Trump, rather than on those who are resisting him.

Is the resistance perfect? No. Is the Democratic Party perfect? No. Are congressional Democrats perfect? No. But compared to their Republican counterparts, Democrats look like heroes of democracy, warts and all.

Democrats aren’t the problem. They are the solution. Be part of the solution. We can sort out the credits and debits after we reclaim democracy!

[Robert B. Hubbell]

#Liz Cheney #resist #Hands Off #Robert B. Hubbell #political #Dr. Pru Lee #pro-democracy #save our republic #No Kings

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hoshifighting · 1 year ago

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Arranged Marriage

— Synopsis: Where you and Minghao parents had this grand scheme to merge their companies by marrying you off, thinking it'd be a brilliant business move. Determined to stake your claim and keep your marriage intact, your make a bold move during a business party—planting a lipstick-stained kiss on Minghao's lips and yanking him by his tie, leaving no doubt that he's yours and yours alone. — WC: 5.5k — WARNINGS: Smut, throat fucking, blowjob, fingering, penetrative sex, public make out, jealous kiss, angst, forced marriage, mentions of diets.

You're standing there in this fancy white dress, all sparkly and shiny, making your way down the aisle to where Minghao's waiting. He's looking all sharp in his suit, with his hair on point and a little smirk on his face. But as you're walking towards him, you can't help but remember the last time you two really talked was at some boring company event.

Now here you are, about to say your vows like you actually mean them. But deep down, you know it's all just a bunch of lies. You and Minghao both know it. It's all for show, to make your parents' company look good. And the worst part is, everyone at this big fancy wedding knows it too.

The party's huge, like a wedding and a business conference all mashed together. People you've never seen before are milling around, probably part of some shady business deal your parents cooked up. It's like this whole thing isn't even about love or unity anymore. It's just one big networking event disguised as a wedding.

But you go through the motions anyway, smiling and nodding like everything's perfect. You exchange vows that are as fake as the smiles plastered on both of your faces. And as the night goes on, you can't shake the feeling that this whole thing is just a sham. A pretty, expensive sham, but a sham nonetheless.

You watch as people schmooze and mingle, making deals and connections left and right. And you can't help but wonder if this is what your future holds too. A life of pretending, of smiling for the cameras while behind closed doors, it's all just business as usual.

But for now, you paste on your best fake smile and dance the night away, pretending that everything's okay. Because that's what you do when you're part of a family like yours. You put on a show, no matter what's really going on behind the scenes.

You're feeling suffocated by the crowd inside, like the tightness around your waist is almost causing claustrophobia. So you slip away to the backyard, sneaking a slice of cake from the waiters. Your mom had you on some ridiculous diet for a whole week leading up to this wedding, all so you could look "good" in your dress.

You plop down on a wooden bench, the dress spreading out in a big poof around you. Just as you're about to take a much-needed bite of cake, you're interrupted by a voice.

"Why isn't the bride inside enjoying her own party?" The voice belongs to Minghao, hands in his pockets as he stands there, looking at you.

You scoff, shooting him a look. "I'm sure no one's noticed. They're all too busy discussing the stock market or whatever." Your tone is sharp, the underlying tension between you and Minghao palpable.

Minghao snorts, clearly not impressed by your response. "Yeah, well, maybe if you spent less time worrying about your parents' company and more time actually enjoying life, you wouldn't be stuck in this mess."

You bristle at his comment, feeling a surge of anger rising within you. "Oh please, like you have any room to talk. Last time I checked, you were just as tangled up in all of this as I am."

Minghao's expression darkens, and for a moment, you worry you've gone too far.

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a half-eaten slice of wedding cake. You watch him go, feeling a mix of frustration and something else you can't quite name. Maybe it's just the champagne talking, but for a brief moment, you can't help but wonder what life would be like if you weren't tied down by expectations and obligations.

You stare at Minghao, disbelief written all over your face as you take in the sight of the one hotel room your parents booked for the both of you. A single queen-sized bed sits in the center of the room, effectively splitting the space into two halves. You shoot a glance at Minghao, and from the look in his eyes, you can tell he's just as shocked as you are.

The tension between you is palpable as you both stand there, sharing silent but deadly gazes. Finally, you break the silence, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, isn't this just perfect? Our parents booking us one room to 'get used' to each other. As if this whole shit wasn't enough already."

Minghao lets out a scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, because nothing says 'happily ever after' like forcing two strangers to share a bed on their wedding night."

You bite back a retort, opting instead for a more diplomatic approach. "Look, I think it's only fair that I take the bed and you can sleep on the couch."

Minghao raises an eyebrow, his expression incredulous. "And why is that?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You roll your eyes, feeling irritation bubbling up inside you. "Because I'm the bride, for one," you retort, "and two, I've been on my feet all night, walking around in a dress that weighs a ton and heels that could rival skyscrapers. I think I deserve a decent night's sleep."

Minghao lets out a short, humorless laugh. "Oh, please. Do you even know how exhausting it is to be the groom? I've been dealing with people all night, pretending to be someone I'm not, just like you."

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms defiantly. "Fine," you say, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips, "then let's settle this once and for all. Who's more tired: the bride who's been carrying around twelve kilograms of dress and heels all night, or the groom who's been putting on a show for hours on end?"

Minghao looks at you for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he's trying not to smile. But then he shakes his head, a look of resignation crossing his face. "You win," he says, finally relenting, "you can have the bed."

You smirk triumphantly, feeling a small sense of victory despite the absurdity of the situation. And as you crawl into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin.

The next day rolls around, and before you even have a chance to properly wake up, you're thrown into a meeting. Brunch with both families sounds nice in theory, but when Minghao's dad starts putting papers on the table and declaring, "Let's get to what matters," you realize this isn't going to be a typical family gathering.

You try to maintain a facade of composure, but the discomfort gnaws at you like a persistent itch. So you do what you've gotten used to doing – you look down, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room.

Minghao notices immediately, and you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face. His cheeks flush with embarrassment from his father's directness, but you can't bring yourself to look up and meet his eyes. The weight of expectation hangs heavy in the air, and you can practically taste the tension swirling around the table.

As Minghao's dad starts talking about business deals and partnerships, you try to focus on the sound of his voice rather than the sinking feeling in your stomach. But no matter how hard you try to block it out, you can't shake the feeling that you're just a pawn in someone else's game – a game you never asked to play.

You steal a glance at Minghao, but his expression is unreadable, his mask firmly in place. And in that moment, you realize just how alone you really are in this world of high-stakes deals and empty promises.

You're lounging on the couch, the TV blaring in the background, but your mind is miles away. The penthouse feels emptier than ever, despite being filled with all the trappings of luxury. You and Minghao live under the same roof, yet it feels like you might as well be living on opposite ends of the earth. Separate rooms, separate lives, with only a perfunctory "good morning" or "good night" exchanged between you.

The loneliness weighs heavy on your chest, suffocating you with its presence. You long for something more, something real, but it feels like an impossible dream in this gilded cage you've found yourself trapped in.

You're lost in the numbing glow of the television when your phone buzzes with a notification. It's Minghao, informing you of a press conference he's scheduled for later that night. You furrow your brow, puzzled by the sudden announcement.

But it's his last message from the previous night that catches your attention. "Can you at least put on your best smile tonight?" he'd asked, a request that feels more like a demand. And you can't help but feel a pang of frustration at his presumption.

You make your way to his room, finding him hunched over his computer, the glow of the screen casting harsh shadows across his face. You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms as you watch him for a moment before speaking up.

"What do you mean by that?" you ask, your voice tinged with a hint of annoyance. "Put on my best smile? What's that supposed to mean?"

Minghao looks up from his computer, his expression unreadable. "It means exactly what it sounds like," he replies coolly, his tone clipped. "We both know how important appearances are in our world. So why not make an effort for once?"

You roll your eyes, feeling the anger bubbling up inside you. "I think you mean that you want me to play the dutiful wife once again, to plaster on a fake smile and pretend like everything's fine," you snap, the bitterness seeping into your words.

Minghao's jaw tightens, and for a moment, it looks like he's about to argue back. But then he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, looking suddenly tired and defeated. "Look, I know this isn't what either of us wanted," he says, his voice softer now, tinged with regret. "But it's what we have to do. For our families, for the company."

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "Is that really all that matters to you? The company? "But fine," you say through clenched teeth, pushing yourself away from the doorframe. "I'll put on my best smile tonight. But don't expect me to enjoy it."

You sit in the backseat of the chauffeur-driven car, your gaze fixed on the passing landscape outside the window. The skyscrapers blur into a haze of steel and glass, a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling inside your mind.

Minghao breaks the silence with a casual remark, his tone tinged with amusement. "You don't look like someone who agreed to the terms of our agreement," he observes, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

You let out a frustrated huff, tearing your eyes away from the window to glare at him. "Yeah, well, maybe I need some time before I can fully commit to this whole acting profession," you retort, your words dripping with bitterness.

Minghao presses his lips together, trying to suppress a laugh at your expense. The corners of his mouth twitch with amusement, but he manages to keep his expression neutral as he looks away, pretending to be absorbed in the passing scenery.

You bristle at his reaction, feeling a surge of indignation coursing through you. "What's so funny?" you demand, your voice sharp with irritation.

Minghao shakes his head, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Nothing," he replies casually, his tone disarmingly nonchalant. "I mean, take all the time you need… Just try not to look too pitiful when we walk through those doors."

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

As the chauffeur stops and opens the door for you, signaling your arrival at the event, Minghao's voice cuts through the silence.

"Hand," he says simply, holding out his hand towards you.

You raise an eyebrow, shooting him a skeptical look. "Excuse me?" you reply, not quite sure you heard him correctly.

Minghao's lips twitch into a smirk as he repeats himself, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I said, hand," he repeats, his tone playful yet insistent.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at his audacity, but begrudgingly, you reach out and grab his hand, almost aggressively. His grin widens as he intertwines his fingers with yours, the touch surprisingly delicate despite the underlying tension between you.

As you and Minghao step into the event, hand in hand, you can feel the weight of your parents' surprised stares on you. Their eyebrows shoot up in disbelief at the sight of you two holding hands, a rare display of unity between the two families.

Minghao squeezes your hand gently, a small smirk playing on his lips as he catches your parents' reaction. "See?" he murmurs softly, leaning in close to you. "It's easy. A little thing like this makes them happy."

You can't help but feel a surge of resentment bubbling up inside you at his words. Easy for him to say, you think bitterly. He's always been the one who effortlessly falls into line, who knows exactly how to play the game to get what he wants.

But despite your inner turmoil, you force a tight smile and nod in agreement, not wanting to cause a scene in front of your parents. "Yeah, easy," you echo, your voice strained as you try to keep up the facade.

As the long-winded speeches from the ambassadors drone on, you find yourself sinking deeper into your chair, exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders. Minghao leans in close, his voice a soft whisper against your ear as he asks if you want something from the bar. You shake your head, declining his offer with a tired sigh.

He nods in understanding and excuses himself, disappearing into the crowd for a moment. But as the minutes drag on and the speech finally reaches its conclusion, Minghao still hasn't returned. Your eyes scan the room, searching for any sign of him, and that's when you spot her – a woman leaning in close to him, her body language oozing with flirtation.

Your stomach churns with a mix of anger and disbelief. What does she think she's doing? That's your husband she's flirting with, for crying out loud. You glance down at your wedding ring, then back at Minghao, then down at your ring again, the weight of it heavy on your finger.

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you stand up from the table, your movements cautious as you make your way over to them. Fuck, you hate that you're doing this right now, but you can't just sit idly by while some random woman tries to make a move on your husband.

Minghao's eyes widen in surprise as he catches sight of your determined gaze, and for a brief moment, you almost feel guilty for interrupting. But then you remember who you are – his wife – and the guilt fades away, replaced by a steely resolve.

"I have a wife," Minghao's voice cuts through the air, firm and unwavering, as you approach him and the woman who's been flirting with him. His words send a jolt of surprise through you, momentarily halting your steps.

But before you can even react, Minghao continues, his tone tinged with irritation, "And she's storming over here, so please, just leave me alone."

"Hi, Hao," you greet Minghao as you finally reach him, unable to hide the hint of irritation in your voice. "You took a long time. What happened?"

Minghao's eyes widen slightly at your abrupt approach, and he stammers for a moment before the woman beside him interjects, "Oh, she's your friend?"

Minghao's response is immediate and almost defensive. "No, I don't know her," he says quickly, his tone betraying his discomfort.

You can't help but suppress a smirk at his awkwardness, feeling a small surge of satisfaction at seeing him squirm. "Nice to meet you," you say smoothly, extending your hand to the woman. "I'm Mrs. Xu."

The woman's eyes widen in surprise as she takes your hand, clearly caught off guard by your assertive introduction. "Oh, um, nice to meet you too," she replies, her voice slightly shaky.

You turn your attention back to Minghao, noting the relief in his eyes as you come to his "rescue." Poor Minghao, you think to yourself, feeling a twinge of sympathy for him despite your earlier annoyance. He clearly didn't know how to handle the situation, and the sight of you coming to his aid seems to help him breathe a little easier.

The woman walks away, leaving you and Minghao standing there in the aftermath of the awkward encounter. You turn to him, your expression a mix of frustration and concern.

"Come on, Minghao," you begin, your voice low but firm. "You need to know how to handle situations like that. What if people who know our family saw that? It could cause all sorts of rumors and complications."

Minghao's jaw tightens as he meets your gaze, a flicker of defensiveness in his eyes. "I didn't ask for her to approach me," he retorts, his tone defensive. "I told her I have a wife. What more do you want from me?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair as you try to keep your temper in check. "I just want you to be more aware of how your actions reflect on both of us," you reply, your voice tinged with exasperation. "We're married, Minghao. That means we have to think about each other's reputations and how our behavior affects them."

Minghao's expression softens slightly at your words, but there's still a stubborn set to his jaw as he crosses his arms over his chest. "I know that," he says, his voice quieter now, more subdued. "But sometimes things happen, and I can't control them."

You shake your head, feeling a surge of frustration rising within you. "That's not an excuse, Minghao," you say firmly. "We both have to do better if we want this marriage to work. We have to be a team."

Minghao's lips twitch into a smirk of his own, a challenge flashing in his eyes as he steps closer to you. "Oh, is that so, Mrs. Xu?" he replies, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "And what exactly would it take for me to earn back the privilege of being called by my first name?"

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress a laugh at his cheekiness. "Maybe if you stopped getting yourself into awkward situations with random women at parties," you shoot back, unable to resist the opportunity for a playful jab.

Minghao feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt. "Hey now, that wasn't entirely my fault," he protests, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Besides, you were the one who came to my rescue, remember?"

Minghao's playful grin falters as you shoot him a pointed look, hands firmly planted on your hips. "Am I wrong now? What should I do then?" you challenge, your tone laced with frustration.

He shrugs, his expression sheepish as he searches for an answer. "You need to make them know I'm your husband," he suggests vaguely, a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes.

You narrow your gaze, a surge of determination coursing through you as you follow his line of sight to the woman who had been eyeing him earlier. She's still watching him, her gaze lingering a little too long for your liking.

"Fine then," you declare, your jaw set in determination. Without another word, you reach out and grab Minghao by the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. Before he can protest, you press your lips to his in a firm, possessive kiss.

For a moment, Minghao freezes, his hands hovering uncertainly in the air. But then, as if realizing what's happening, he responds eagerly, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair as the kiss deepens.

You trail kisses along his neck, feeling a low hum of satisfaction reverberate through him. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer as you continue to explore the sensitive skin of his neck with your lips.

When you pull back slightly, his eyes meet yours, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths. You reach up and gently tug on his bottom lip, a silent invitation for him to surrender completely to the passion between you.

Minghao's lips part in response, his eyes darkening with desire as he leans in to capture your mouth in another searing kiss. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, the intensity of the moment threatening to consume you both.

As you finally break the kiss, your lips swollen and tingling with the taste of him, you look at his face, satisfied with your handiwork. His lips, jaw, and neck are adorned with smudges of your red lipstick, a visible testament that being arranged or not, he is your husband.

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you reach out and grab Minghao by the tie, tugging him gently but firmly in the direction of the exit. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your sudden assertiveness, but he follows your lead without hesitation.

As you walk through the party, you make no effort to hide the fact that you're leading Minghao out by his tie. You want everyone to see, especially that woman who dared to flirt with him earlier. With each step, you feel a surge of satisfaction knowing that you're marking your territory, making it abundantly clear to anyone watching that Minghao belongs to you.

People turn to look as you pass by, their curious glances met with a confident smile from you and a sheepish grin from Minghao. You hold your head high, your grip on his tie unwavering as you guide him through the crowd.

Finally, you reach the exit, and with one last glance around the room, you pull Minghao outside, the cool night air washing over you both. Alone at last, you turn to him with a victorious smirk.

"Well, that was fun," you say, a hint of laughter in your voice as you release his tie. "But I think we've made our point. Shall we get out of here?"

Minghao chuckles, shaking his head in amusement as he takes your hand in his. "Absolutely," he replies, a warmth in his eyes as he looks at you. "Anywhere you want to go, Mrs. Xu."

As soon as you step through the door of your home, you're wrapped up in a frenzy of passionate kisses with Minghao. Clothes, shoes, and his tie fly off haphazardly as you stumble towards the nearest surface, unable to keep your hands off each other.

Between kisses, Minghao pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. "I didn't know you were that jealous," he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You hiss in response, your breath catching in your throat as his lips trail along your skin. "I wasn't jealous," you protest, your voice tinged with frustration. "I was just...rescuing you, you bastard!"

Minghao laughs at your outburst, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Hmm, just like a predator," he teases, his hands roaming over your body with a newfound confidence.

You scoff at his comment, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "You've seen nothing yet," you reply, meeting his gaze with a challenge in your eyes.

Minghao's eyes light up with excitement as he looks at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

"Yeah," you confirm with a smirk, pulling him in for another kiss.

But then, his hand moves to the top of your head, gently guiding you downwards until your knees find the ground. You look up at him with a mixture of desire and anticipation, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you eagerly await his next move.

With a shaky breath, Minghao pulls himself free from his pants, his cock standing proudly before you. You wrap your hand around it, feeling the heat and hardness of him beneath your touch. A wicked grin plays at your lips as you tap the tip of his cock against your face, biting your lip in anticipation.

Minghao lets out a shaky moan at the provocative sight before him, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you. "Fuck, you're so damn sexy," he groans, his voice rough with need. "You know exactly what you're doing to me, don't you?"

You smirk up at him, your hand still wrapped around his cock as you tease him with your lips. "Mmm, maybe," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction. "But I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you want me, Minghao."

His breath hitches as he meets your gaze, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guides you closer to him. "I want you more than anything," he confesses, his voice thick with desire. "I need you, baby. Please, show me how much you want me too."

You eagerly lower your mouth onto Minghao's throbbing cock, sucking greedily as you take him deeper and deeper into your mouth. You can feel him thrusting his hips, the need for more driving him to move against you.

Your hands slide down to his thighs, giving him the freedom to move as he pleases. His fingers tangle in your hair, guiding your movements as he sets the pace, his hips rocking against you in a rhythm of his own making.

As you take him deeper, you close your eyes, relaxing your jaw to accommodate his length. Minghao's voice breaks through the haze of pleasure, his words a gentle reminder of his concern for your well-being.

"Tap if you need to breathe," he murmurs, his hand tightening in your ponytail as he continues to move his hips.

You press your hand against his thigh in affirmation, letting him know that you're okay as you continue to take him deeper, your throat working to accommodate his length. Minghao lets out a low groan of pleasure, his hips moving in tandem with your movements as you both chase the pinnacle of ecstasy.

Between thrusts, Minghao's voice fills the air with a husky whisper. "God, you feel so fucking good," he moans, his words driving you to take him even deeper. "You're amazing, baby. Just keep going, just like that."

As Minghao's cock throbs in your mouth, you feel a surge of pleasure coursing through you, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Drool drips from your chin, a testament to your eagerness and arousal, as you continue to take him deeper, your mouth working tirelessly to please him.

With each throb of his cock, you can feel the tension building, the heat of his arousal radiating through you. Your eyes roll back in your head, lost in a haze of pleasure as you surrender yourself completely to the ecstasy of the moment.

And as Minghao's cock pulses in your mouth, you know that you've pushed him to the edge, his release imminent. With one final throb, he cries out your name, his body tensing as he spills his cum into your waiting mouth.

You swallow eagerly, savoring the taste of him. You moan softly as Minghao's lips meet yours again, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue, and he slowly guides you towards his room.

As you fall onto the bed, Minghao's fingers trace lazy patterns along your inner thighs, making you squirm beneath his touch, unable to hide your arousal as he gazes down at you with dark, hungry eyes.

"You're so wet…" he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he continues to tease you with his fingers.

Minghao's lips curl into a smug grin as his fingers trailing lower until they reach the damp fabric of your panties. With agonizing slowness, he begins to peel them away, revealing your glistening folds to his hungry gaze.

"Tell me what you want, baby" he whispers, his voice a low growl in your ear as he leans in close. "Tell me how you want me to make you feel."

You arch your back, aching for his touch as you meet his gaze with a sultry smirk. "I want your fingers inside me, Minghao" you breathe, your voice dripping with desire. "I want you to make me come so fucking hard"

Minghao's eyes darken with lust as he hears your words, his fingers finding their way to your slick entrance. With a wicked grin, he plunges his slender fingers deep inside you, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, he finds it – that deep spot that sends electric jolts shooting through you. Your pussy clenches around his fingers in response, a desperate attempt to hold your orgasm.

But Minghao isn't finished yet. With a wicked grin, he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers his intentions. "You're not going to cum yet," he murmurs. "Let me hit that spot with my cock, then you can cream around it as much as you want."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, with the promise of what's going to come. With a nod of agreement, you bite your lip in anticipation, eager for the moment when Minghao will fuck you with his cock.

As Minghao positions himself above you, his gaze locked with yours in a silent promise of pleasure to come, you sneak a peek at his cock. It's long, with bulging veins and dripping with pre-cum, making it clear he's rock hard and ready to go. The contrast with his slender body just makes it look even bigger.

Before you can even think of a response, Minghao speaks up, his voice low and husky. "You ready for me, baby?" he asks, his eyes smoldering with desire.

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can get a word out, his cock is stretching you out, leaving you breathless and speechless as he fills you completely.

As soon as Minghao finds your g'spot, your pussy immediately tightens around him, milking him with such intensity that he has to hold himself back from coming right then and there. His pretty moans only serve to heighten your own arousal, making it even harder for you to hold back your impending orgasm.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure as he tries to control himself. He hopes that you'll stop clenching, but as soon as he hits that spot again, he hisses in response, the sensation driving him wild.

Realizing that he's in danger of cumming too early, Minghao decides to focus on fucking you in just the right way, hitting that spot with precision and intensity. He squirms, desperate for you to climax first, knowing that your pleasure will only fuel his own.

With each thrust, each movement, the pleasure builds between you, reaching a fever pitch that threatens to consume you both. Minghao's hips move in a steady rhythm, his cock driving deeper and deeper into you with each thrust, his own pleasure mounting with each passing second.

And then, finally, it happens. You reach the peak of ecstasy, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm as pleasure washes over you in relentless waves. Your pussy clenches around Minghao's cock, milking him for all he's worth as he loses control, his own release crashing over him in a tidal wave of pleasure.

With a tired groan, Minghao collapses beside you, his body spent from the intensity of your shared passion. He turns to you with a lazy smile, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction.

"If I'd known all it took to get you to kiss me was making you jealous, I would've done it ages ago," he teases, his voice laced with amusement.

You roll your eyes, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "I wasn't jealous," you protest, crossing your arms over your chest.

Minghao raises an eyebrow, his expression incredulous. "Imagine if you were then" he scoffs, his tone teasing. "I don't think we'd be here right now if you weren't just a little bit jealous."

You huff in mock indignation, but deep down, you know he's right.

ou nudge Minghao playfully, a smile dancing on your lips. "Well, lucky for you, a little jealousy was all it took," you quip, teasing him.

He chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling as he gazes at you. "I guess I'll have to remember that for next time," he replies, his voice tinged with amusement.

You laugh, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "Oh, so there's going to be a next time now?" you tease, raising an eyebrow.

Minghao grins, leaning in closer to you. "Count on it," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he brushes his lips against yours.

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unsolicited-opinions · 2 months ago

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Amplifying Palestinian Voices

5/28/25

Hamza Howidy

Osama Hamdan, one of Hamas’s senior political leaders based in Lebanon, stood in front of cameras and said: *“We expect our great people to thwart the method of receiving aid today, just as they thwarted it yesterday. We trust that our people will endure hunger and not extend their hands to the occupier asking for aid.”* A man who hasn’t spent a single day under siege, who hasn’t lost electricity, water, or a child under rubble—preaches hunger as a virtue to a population shattered by war, displacement, and collapse. Hamdan speaks from a safe distance, while the people of Gaza live through the aftermath of a destroyed economy, famine-like conditions, and total institutional breakdown. This is the same leadership that looted Gaza’s food convoys, diverted international aid to its own networks, and then resold it at extortionate prices on the black market. While civilians lined up for hours just to receive a bag of flour, Hamas operatives enriched themselves. While hospitals ran dry and children died from dehydration, salaries continued flowing to the movement’s armed wing. Hamas didn’t just mismanage the aid system—they weaponized it. They created scarcity, controlled distribution through loyalty networks, and turned food into a reward for obedience. When people found alternative ways to eat—airdrops, private channels, independent convoys—Hamas responded not with solutions, but with threats and bullets. Dozens have been shot for trying to get flour without permission. And now, as a new international mechanism attempts to bypass their grip, their panic is disguised as principle. Hamdan’s words aren’t a rejection of occupation. They are a rejection of any aid they don’t personally oversee, tax, and exploit. His fear isn’t that the people are humiliated—it’s that they might no longer need him. There is no moral high ground here. Just a terrified, corrupt elite watching their control unravel. And once again, they’re ready to let their people starve for the sake of holding onto what’s left.

#jumblr #Hamza Howidy #Amplifying Palestinian Voices #Palestinian Voices #Fuck Hamas #Free Gaza From Hamas

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pickleking8 · 3 months ago

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14 - Adoption Isn't All It's Cracked Up to Be - Chapter Fourteen

Word Count: 1363

Ao3 Link

Previous - Masterpost

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Now, anyone who knows anything about running crime organizations (organizations of any legal status, really), is that information is gold. It pays, literally, to know who’s making the drug deal in the alley at three am, who’s smuggling weapons by the docks, hell, how many bananas Johnny’s grandmama bought at the market yesterday.

Everyone knows this. But, more importantly, Jason knows this. Which is why two weeks after his return to Gotham, he has eyes everywhere. Camera systems already in place? Hacked, they’re his now. Informant that you treated badly? Hey, a couple of well placed hundred dollar bills, and boom, he’s got a network going. Not even to mention the League of Assassins grade cameras monitoring nearly every street.

Point is, Jason is ready. Batman? Going down. Revenge? About to be dished out in glorious fashion.

Except for this one small, really teensy-weensy hiccup in his plans. Laughable, really, how easily he can dismiss this and continue on. No problems here. None, nada, zilch and zip.

…

Fuck.

Alright, reassessment. There appears to be a child.

A child that looks like him. Just like him. Same injuries, even.

…

The child is in the manor. The child does not want to be in the manor. Bruce is keeping the child from leaving the manor.

Double fuck.

Bruce called the child Jason.

Ohh, so many fucks. Infinite fuck. With a side of goddammit.

The couch protests, creaking with age and indignation, as he flops (in a very dignified way) onto it. It might interest you to know, dear reader, that this particular safe house had a very fascinating ceiling. It was white, and extraordinarily bumpy, bowing down and browned in some places from water, cracked into and covered with spider webs in others, and all together was in rough shape: does this interest you?

No?

Well, it sure seemed to interest Jason, as he laid staring at it for the better part of an hour.

…He has to save the child.

Three short buzzes from his phone, vibrating in his jeans pocket distracts him from his musings. Huffing out a sigh, the moth-bitten couch complains once more as he sits up. One of his new informants, calling him. David, if he remembers correctly. Nice guy, always showing pictures of his cat (David wasn’t lying, it really did have the prettiest eyes of any cat Jason had ever seen).

“What?” comes out as an uncouth greeting.

“Hey, boss. You know how you said to report if anything particularly unusual happened?” Jason straightened.

“Yeah? What happened?”

“Well, I saw this kid, running like a bat out of hell down 39th and 2nd. Pretty run of the mill, except the kid just kept… flickering, going invisible and back again. White, black hair, male, looked maybe fifteen and panicked as all shit. Injured. Turned into an alley and just… disappeared. Thought you might wanna know, with that ‘keep kids safe’ rule you got.”

“ Fuck. Okay, David, listen to me very carefully. Did anyone else see the kid? Which alley did he go into?”

“The one near Ms. Baker’s apartment. And no, I don’t think so, at least. It was pretty late, street was deserted, but I can’t be sure.”

“Okay, okay. Listen, anyone comes asking after the kid, you don’t tell them shit, got it? You find out anyone else saw, you tell them the same thing. I’ll take care of the kid. Understood?”

“Got it, boss. If anyone asks, I wasn’t even outside tonight.”

“Good.”

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His breath sounds loud through the modulation of his helmet, rasping and rattling; a last breath after a last breath after a last breath, Jason’s heart continuing to beat and lungs continuing to expand long after they should’ve stopped. Ever since he clawed his way to air, emerged with dirt and blood under his fingernails, he’s been aware of his breath, noticing each inhale, exhale, and gasp. Afraid that if his attention drifts, he’ll find himself back in that silk-lined prison of a coffin.

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Danny’s breath echoes in the space between the walls. It’s not the only sound present, he can hear the building settling around him, bits of cement dust trickling down, and somewhere, something with claws skittering across the brick. He tried not to pay attention to the way his breath was so loud it sounded as if the building breathed with him, creaking and groaning.

Ever since he stumbled out of that portal, body crackling with electricity and a circle spelling ‘ON’ branded permanently on his palm, he didn’t like hearing his breathing, reminding him that every inhale was stolen and every exhale a signal he was on borrowed time. Reminding him what a freak of nature he truly was, that when the universe stitched itself together with a loving hand, it never intended this, it never intended him.

He felt better when he was a ghost, when he didn’t have to breathe. When the aching in his chest subsided and he no longer felt like hands were crawling their way up his throat. When he was human, the feeling returned again, that wrongness, that stark reminder with every beat of his heart that he wasn’t meant to be.

Some creepy little boy with creepy little powers, indeed.

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The trail was damning: scattered trash, shoved aside in a panic here, a small smear of blood there, all pointing to… the wall.

The solid brick wall.

The suspiciously clean patch of solid brick wall.

Fuck, a meta. Jason had seen this before, metas who weren’t particularly good at phasing, or just not paying as much attention as they should have. They’d take the dirt and grime and such with them as they went, only phasing through the atoms they thought were in their way. Phasing was tricky like that, nearly as dependent on one’s mind as it was on one’s physical ability. It worked on a different set of rules: you phased through what you set your mind to phase through. You forgot about grime? Well, it comes with you. Hence: free wall cleaning.

Now, the real question was, did the kid phase all the way through, or did he stay in the wall? Jason had seen the kid earlier, and from what David had said, he was running on fumes. The state of the alley said he was too panicked to cover his tracks properly. Jason would bet that as soon as the kid thought he was out of sight, he’d dropped.

Well, shit. Now, there’s a kid that’s probably in the wall and scared out of his mind, and Jason’s got to get him out.

Double shit.

…Jason knocks. On the wall. Three raps, in quick succession, with his brass-covered knuckles.

A slight rustling, the quietest hitch of breath.

“Kid? I know you’re in there. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

More rustling, louder this time. Panicked.

“Please. I want to help.”

A head sticks out, mist spilling out of its mouth, floating gently upward, so all he can see of the kid’s face is piercing, glowing eyes of an all too-familiar shade.

He stares at the kid. The kid stares back, tense and ready to run.

“And who the fuck are you? Actually, it’s better if I don’t know. You’re dead, and that means you need to get the fuck out of this city and watch for hazmat suits. That’s the best I can do for you right now.”

The kid’s words are breathless, tinged with a melancholy bitterness that spoke to what could have, should have been, his eyes darting around, scanning the alleyway and the rooftops and Jason himself, assessing.

Jason breathes. In, out, ever so slowly; preparing himself to make a decision that cannot be undone. He needs something, something to get him to stay, something to get him to talk long enough for Jason to help him. So, he makes a decision that screams against every ounce of training he’s ever received.

He tells the kid his name, the name that has haunted this child for weeks, binding him to an identity, a person that isn’t him, isn’t him, isn’t him :

“I’m Jason. And you, I take it, are not.”

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Previous - Masterpost

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @tkiesai, @simplestoryteller

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Hey, everyone!! Apparently my writing juice only flows when I have a million exams next week, and I wrote this instead of studying for those :p

Ah well, it'll be okay. I'll just cram for the rest of today, wish me luck. Anyway, here's the latest chapter! Jason finally finds Danny! I struggled a little bit writing their interaction in the end, and I'm not entirely happy with how it turned out, but so it goes. As a side note, one of my personal head canons is that Danny's death scar isn't just the lichtenberg scarring, but the 'on' button branded into his palm as well. He got really into fingerless gloves after the accident.

Thank you for reading, and let me know what you guys think of the chapter!

#dpxdc #dcxdp #Danny phantom #Jason todd #red hood #adoption isn't all it's cracked up to be #my fic #I liked the first part of the chapter a lot #and I liked trying to create a parallel between Jason and Danny's deaths #and how they see breathing #let me know what you think of that #I'm not sure how it came across lol #anyway as usual I am very proud #please compliment me #stay safe and have a lovely day #<3

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nhaneh · 1 month ago

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Growing ever more frustrated with the use of the term "AI" and how the latest marketing trend has ensured its already rather vague and highly contextual meaning has now evaporated into complete nonsense. Much like how the only real commonality between animals colloquially referred to as "Fish" is "probably lives in the water", the only real commonality between things currently colloquially referred to as "AI" is "probably happens on a computer"

For example, the "AI" you see in most games wot controls enemies and other non-player actors typically consist primarily of timers, conditionals, and RNG - and are typically designed with the goal of trying to make the game fun and/or interesting rather than to be anything ressembling actually intelligent. By contrast, the thing that the tech sector is currently trying to sell to us as "AI" relates to a completely different field called Machine Learning - specifically the sub-fields of Deep Learning and Neural Networks, specifically specifically the sub-sub-field of Large Language Models, which are an attempt at modelling human languages through large statistical models built on artificial neural networks by way of deep machine learning.

the word "statistical" is load bearing.

Say you want to teach a computer to recognize images of cats. This is actually a pretty difficult thing to do because computers typically operate on fixed patterns whereas visually identifying something as a cat is much more about the loose relationship between various visual identifiers - many of which can be entirely optional: a cat has a tail except when it doesn't either because the tail isn't visible or because it just doesn't have one, a cat has four legs, two eyes and two ears except for when it doesn't, it has five digits per paw except for when it doesn't, it has whiskers except for when it doesn't, all of these can look very different depending on the camera angle and the individual and the situation - and all of these are also true of dogs, despite dogs being a very different thing from a cat.

So, what do you do? Well, this where machine learning comes into the picture - see, machine learning is all about using an initial "training" data set to build a statistical model that can then be used to analyse and identify new data and/or extrapolate from incomplete or missing data. So in this case, we take a machine learning system and feeds it a whole bunch of images - some of which are of cats and thus we mark as "CAT" and some of which are not of cats and we mark as "NOT CAT", and what we get out of that is a statistical model that, upon given a picture, will assign a percentage for how well it matches its internal statistical correlations for the categories of CAT and NOT CAT.

This is, in extremely simplified terms, how pretty much all machine learning works, including whatever latest and greatest GPT model being paraded about - sure, the training methods are much more complicated, the statistical number crunching even more complicated still, and the sheer amount of training data being fed to them is incomprehensively large, but at the end of the day they're still models of statistical probability, and the way they generate their output is pretty much a matter of what appears to be the most statistically likely outcome given prior input data.

This is also why they "hallucinate" - the question of what number you get if you add 512 to 256 or what author wrote the famous novel Lord of the Rings, or how many academy awards has been won by famous movie Goncharov all have specific answers, but LLMs like ChatGPT and other machine learning systems are probabilistic systems and thus can only give probabilistic answers - they neither know nor generally attempt to calculate what the result of 512 + 256 is, nor go find an actual copy of Lord of the Rings and look what author it says on the cover, they just generalise the most statistically likely response given their massive internal models. It is also why machine learning systems tend to be highly biased - their output is entirely based on their training data, they are inevitably biased not only by their training data but also the selection of it - if the majority of english literature considered worthwhile has been written primarily by old white guys then the resulting model is very likely to also primarily align with the opinion of a bunch of old white guys unless specific care and effort is put into trying to prevent it.

It is this probabilistic nature that makes them very good at things like playing chess or potentially noticing early signs of cancer in x-rays or MRI scans or, indeed, mimicking human language - but it also means the answers are always purely probabilistic. Meanwhile as the size and scope of their training data and thus also their data models grow, so does the need for computational power - relatively simple models such as our hypothetical cat identifier should be fine with fairly modest hardware, while the huge LLM chatbots like ChatGPT and its ilk demand warehouse-sized halls full of specialized hardware able to run specific types of matrix multiplications at rapid speed and in massive parallel billions of times per second and requiring obscene amounts of electrical power to do so in order to maintain low response times under load.

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spartanseagoat · 10 days ago

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Uranus Gemini -changing your mind

On July 7th, Uranus will enter the air sign of Gemini! This is a huge energetic shift that’s taking place.

Uranus in astrology is a generational planet that rules over

-humanity

-large crowds or massive groups

-weather

-the sky

-aviation

-science and medicine

-innovation

-protest, activism, non-conformity, the rebels

-politics such as voting

-networking

-technology (all)

It’s entered the sign of Gemini which rules

-education (k-12) and teachers

-learned behaviors

-how we process information

-how we communicate our thoughts

-our siblings and cousins

-neighbors and our local community

-our close friends

-transportation such as bikes, cars, buses, wheelchairs

-twins or multiples

-mirrors

-camera

-writers

-hands and lungs

What does this all mean?

It means society is quickly about to change, it’ll be a good change but it will be messy though, also a bit chaotic.

This transit will also trine Pluto Aquarius so this so this is why I say it will be messy. With Neptune being in Aries, there’s a new renewal of hope but ppl are going to fight for what’s right.

The last time we as a society went through these two planet transits, we had

-the American revolution

-the American civil war

-tail end of WW2

-French revolution

-Haitian revolution

There was also several protest and riots during this time.

*please know that I’m not trying to scare you but let you know the planetary patterns that has played out with both of these transits. Astrology is just a series of patterns and it’s my job to let you know these patterns to be self aware. We can never grow into the future if we don’t learn from the past. Change is terrifying but we got this!

Predictions: this is based on astrological patterns + my intuition.

-I do feel that there will be increases in protest the next few years. Some will be peaceful but ppl are at there breaking point and I do feel it will get violent in some areas.

-I’m seeing lots of new communities, almost like factions or communes being built. Ppl are desperately looking for community but feel so lost right now. It’s kind of like mini gated communities but it won’t just be for the rich, regular average ppl will form something like these as well.

-ai. I know so many ppl are against and I have my own problems with it as well. The harsh truth though, it’s here to stay. It’s become to engrained in our society now. Honestly, I think we’re only seeing the beginning of it. It’s going to evolve so much. On one hand, this will be good to help with medical research and innovation to help those who are disabled. I suspect we will discover new drugs to help cure diseases. The bad side that I’m worried about is that it’s going to become so realistic that we won’t know what’s true or not. Reality will be so distorted that we won’t know what’s real and what’s not. We need to find balance with this energy.

-education system especially in America(USA) will be different, so different. The old ways is not working anymore. Teachers are exhausted, children are “behind” traditional learning schedules. Parents have to work an arm and leg just to keep float. We’re trying trying to hold on to the old ways of this country but we as a society is constantly changing and growing. It’s like trying to use an old outdated system on a computer even though it’s filled with viruses. It’s time for a new computer. It wouldn’t surprise me if there’s a massive teacher strike or schools will start to become extremely short staffed. Change will become inevitable

-I believe electric cars will become more popular. It’s kind of out there but I wonder if we will see the first wave of flying cars.

-sort of similar to what I’ve been saying before, but I feel the housing market will also suffer due to more ppl just living with roommates in apartments. Apartments will be sought after more than houses will. This is where I think a lot of these smaller communities will develop. Gemini rules over siblings, right? I can see a lot of found family scenarios but in a sibling format.

- a new wave of poets, writers, activist will emerge. We are entering the era of “your words truly matter.” So many thoughts, opinions and reviews will happening I also feel ppl with disabilities will be the face of a lot of these new creative movements. Uranus rules over disability and outcast. The outcast of the world will be heard. Social media will play a huge part in this

-speaking of social media, I suspect a new player to enter the social media game. Maybe a woman or a partnership that involves a woman. It’s going to shocking how successful this new app will be but it will def make the tech bros nervous and envious of this person.

- completely random but hand tattoos will be popular, hand jewelry as well

How will this affect Gemini placements?

Gemini are about to go through lots of changes, the good news is that you guys adapt so well to change or at least better than most signs. A lot of you may change your appearance, move around a lot. I also feel you will start to act out a bit or have a teenage angst energy about you lol. You will be pulled in many different direction and you’ll be involved with lots of different things. You’ll meet new ppl unexpectedly, some ppl will stay in your life, others will not. Uranus is shaking your life up like an earthquake. You need it though, let’s be real. Lol

Are you ready for this transit?

#astrology #astrology community #astrology content #tropical astrology #astro community #Uranus Gemini #astro placements #spartanseagoat astrology post

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wisteriagoesvroom · 1 year ago

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happy "breaching the top 10 f1 rpf pairings on ao3" day to landoscar nation 🎂 because it's all about.... two people that are so much the same yet so different. australia vs the uk. oscar's cool collected calm versus lando's ricocheting personality. twitch streams and side hustles and multiple endeavors vs singlemindedness of racing. purity of craft vs embracing everything life throws at you and trusting that it'll all work out. the rivalry that isn't (well it is, but not really). pushing each other to be better. making heart eyes in a taylor swift video, reaching out to your teammate in silverstone after surviving a media maelstrom and him being pleased and stepping closer because he's been given permission to. making fun of your resident weeb for reading the words "kit kat" but just in a japanese accent.

it's being so ridiculously competitive that you'll hide in a burning bin in the name of fun for a game with made up points and then squinting at your teammate ringed with the bright light of the sun and laughing at how stupid this all is. it's making fun of your teammate's music taste that you can hear through the thin walls of the drivers' rooms. trusting the journey. mimicking each other's body language. knowing it's for the marketing but winking at the camera together anyway, like we're all invited to be in on the joke. two parallel lives woven in two different garages with almost identical specs. being so comfortable you have this weird rapport that is kind of a cipher and unknowable to anyone outside of the immediate network or team, but it's so assured and quiet that for the first time the person who's been the person who was once the younger teammate steps up, acts older now, and becomes comfortable with the silence.

it's knowing your best friend was on their renault team and not saying anything about it in public but the motorsport world is so small and specific and the experience so surreal that surely some laylines are just strangely predestined. it's about growing up together. it's watching the brit upstart in a generation of two other brit upstarts chase his dream and give up everything to win and get velcroed to the seat because he's kind of small, just like you, but you dream bigger than anyone dares to dream and you identify with the other's self belief that says you, too, could stand on that top step one day. it's you following the little blue-suited guy racer on social media and liking sooo many of his posts over the years, and not even bothering to hide that fact when you've probably become that goalpost for someone else one day, too.

it's chapter 2, with 3 more to go. it's watching your teammate win his first sprint race and finding it in yourself to be happy for him even when you're sad that it wasn't you. it's publicly saying that the rookie is not a threat, he's a threat who makes you race better. it's making fun of newbie's first day at mclaren and finding him unknowable. and he arrives with all this hype and pressure so what can you do but focus on you and step up your game, but he's always in the background and the periphery, chasing and chasing with this hunger that is unbelievable and unfamiliar because it's always humming in a way that made you mistake stillness for idleness in the past. but now, you know: still waters run deep, so you swim harder, too. drop the dj-ing. become more disciplined. train more. do things that don't matter, less.

because the future is vast. the future is happening constantly if you're ready to meet it. and maybe destiny will be kind, and your names will be remembered. your name, inked on a trophy in the precious metal of kings, and dreamers. your name, inked in gold.

but today, you're 22. you're 24.

you're driving a car as fast as you can, and everything that's possible, feels like it could be possible, right now.

#landoscar #oscar piastri #lando norris #f1 rpf #814 #the landoscar thesis #mctwinks #twinklaren #wiz.yaps #i started putting this as a tag on mechchrome's post announcing the top 10 pairings development on ao3 #and then i was like lol wait i have can't shut the f up ism #so i might as well make this a post #<- in fact the last two points might as well explain my entire existence on f1blr atp #overthink it? yes i will! thanks!#pls release me from the orange mind-tessaract

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acquired-stardust · 4 months ago

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Anime Spotlight #4: Gunsmith Cats (1995)

It's time for another spotlight! Join Ash as she takes a look at one of the coolest anime of the 90s along with some of the circumstances of its creation as well as some of the cultural context of the time with this article.

If you've been looking for something to watch or just want to pass a little time reading, Acquired-Stardust has you covered - check under the break for another entry in our series of spotlights on games and anime that are well worth your time!

It's November 13th, 1994, and the Chicago police department has recieved some reather peculiar guests for a tour of the facility. They've come all the way from Japan, cameras in hand and fresh off exploring the streets of the Windy City scouting locations as well as a trip to a gun range, for a film project. They're staff from Oriental Light and Magic, a studio operating out of Tokyo, and astonishingly their film project isn't live action - it's an animation.

Animation is not an art form that has historically garnered much respect in the west. Although by November of 1994 we would be well into the Disney Rennaissance, it's actually so early into the more recent mainstreamification of animation that Cartoon Network's first in-house production Space Ghost Coast to Coast (1994) is only a mere six months old.

In a time long before Toonami and 'Pokemania', when most Americans thought animation, cartoons, to be a form of entertainment for children and would likely conjure to mind images of one of many incarnations of Tom and Jerry or Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! (1969), it's hard for the average person not paying attention to the medium at large to conceptualize the phenomenon that Japanese animation has become in its native market as well as in limited American markets as an import for several decades, and the depth that the medium would have.

The officers of the CPD, proudly posing with and demonstrating a "Chicago typewriter" submachine gun to an impressed group of Japanese OLM staffers, had no way of knowing that that revolution would go on to capture America wholesale in just a few short years. That tidal wave was approaching fast, and OLM themselves would come to play a big part in it. Oriental Light and Magic, or OLM, would go on to be known for themselves helping to usher in Pokemania by animating the Pokemon anime, with the Gunsmith Cats team in particular being responsible for the bulk of Pokemon's movies.

The studio would also handle Berserk's incredible 1997 adaptation, as well as assisting on majorly influential titles like FLCL (2000) and recent craze DAN DA DAN (2024), but the only projects the OLM of 1994 has under their belts as a studio is providing graphics for three video games. This relative lack of experience as a company at the time (though not as individual talents under the OLM banner) makes the results of their outing all the more impressive.

Gunsmith Cats has something of a convoluted existence. Originating as a manga spin-off of Kenichi Sonoda's previous effort, the 1989 OVA Riding Bean, Gunsmith Cats as a manga is something of an alternate universe retelling and remix of Riding Bean that sees previous sidekick Rally Vincent take the reins as the lead role with her own new partner as a combination gunsmith/bounty hunter in Chicago.

The same way that the manga remixes elements of Riding Bean into a new, more focused and well rounded effort, Gunsmith Cats' 1995 animated version does much the same - certain characters and elements are refined and streamlined, certain rough edges are smoothed out and it ultimately coalesces into a project that is an incredible testament to the power of inspiration and obsession, as well as the OVA format as a whole. Despite diverging from the manga with an OVA-original antagonist with an extremely cool design and backstory, it's hard to complain about what we got.

Sitting atop a rather large hill of intersectionality, Gunsmith Cats represents and encapsulates the peak of various shifting landscapes in both American and Japanese culture and isn't all that dissimilar in style and substance to Hideo Kojima's fantastic 1996 adventure game Policenauts (for which you can read my article on by clicking here). A tribute to lifelong obsessions with cars, guns and American movies, Gunsmith Cats is one part Blues Brothers (1980), one part Leathal Weapon (1987) and one part Bubblegum Crisis (1987), guided by anime royalty of a now-previous generation in Kenichi Sonoda, who crafted it with the touch that only an obsessive fan can possibly hope to achieve.

It is an incredibly animated, wonderfully scored tribute to three of the things that American and Japanese media both ran on in the 1980s: guns, cars and girls. To that end OLM, as seen in a documentary included in the DVD release apparently produced by ADV Films, sought to draw out the potential of Gunsmith Cats with extremely extensive research into cars and guns with their trip to Chicago in pre-production, and their excursion absolutely paid off in spades.

The keen eye for detail present in the original work as well as the deep research and scouting undergone by OLM shines incredibly brightly here, coalescing into a romp the likes of which is only able to be executed with a level of quality and detail only possible in an OVA. Extremely authentic to its inspirations and a very specific brand of American culture that has long since faded, Chicago is rendered in stunning detail and has largely managed to avoid falling into the infamous 'Japanifornia' amalgamation many adjacent things do.

Guns and cars look and sound authentic, rendered with a similar level of detail and care to the city of Chicago itself, and the character designs by Kenichi Sonoda and Norihiro Matsubara practically leap off the screen to a degree that one could say the cars, guns and city itself are just as much the stars of the show as the human characters.

As for those human characters, they are similarly appealing in both design and personality, and the scenario in which they play is a very authentic take on one you could find in many big American movies of the era in which Gunsmith Cats looks to pay tribute featuring slimy ATF agents (no doubt inspired in part by previous incidents earlier in the decade that would color Amercian perception of the bureau for the remainder of the 90s), gangsters, corruption, informants and a particularly ruthless Russian (or is she Ukranian?) antagonist.

But Gunsmith Cats doesn't just stun visually. Its soundtrack, composed by jazz musician Peter Erskine, would undoubtedly serve as partial inspiration for landscape changing classics such as Cowboy Bebop (1998) which the opening animation, extremely similar to the iconic "Tank!" in both visuals and music, can attest to. Peter Erskine's score shines brightly here and even has an elaborate car chase scene in which it is allowed to take center stage.

As previously mentioned, sound effects such as firearms and Rally Vincent's iconic Shelby GT500 are largely captured from their real world counterparts recorded during the crew's excursions to America. The sounds of Chicago were so meticulously documented and applied that supposedly even an ADV employee at the time from the area recognized the overhead rail heard in the series as being just down the street from her parents' house.

Tasked with the English-language adaptation, now-defunct studio ADV Films was in top form with the production despite it only being their sixth, featuring some very strong cast members (those with an ear and eye for these things will note numerous cast members in various other ADV Films adaptations such as Neon Genesis Evangelion) as well as a strong script. A small thing that helps sell the overall authentic experience is the direction, notably featuring some panicked screaming in various scenes that sound less like the brand of phony made-for-animation yelling that one might be used to and much more like real human reactions.

As is typical with ADV Films the cast, writing and direction is extremely strong but can be a bit hit or miss, as many find protagonist Rally Vincent's sidekick, Minnie May Hopkins, to be annoying though I quite enjoy her. The strength and success of the English version, according to English-language writer/director Matt Greenfield recounting a discussion with Gunsmith Cats director Takeshi Mori, was vital in securing the funds necessary to produce the third and final episode of the OVA which had otherwise underperformed in Japan.

The main trio of the assertive and slightly androgynous Rally, tiny explosive-obsessed gremlin Minnie May and information specialist Becky all play off each other very well and are a lot of fun, though Minnie May is likely something of a sticking point for modern audiences due to her young appearance and mild sexualization, but it's important to remember that Gunsmith Cats follows a number of characters pretty deep into Chicago's criminal underworld and to not be lead too far astray by the cute and friendly art style it possesses.

These are characters who have likely been involved in all sorts of shady, horrible things which is easy to forget until some of the violence, not unlike the level of which you might find in films such as Die Hard (1998), comes crashing through to remind you that it is unafraid to give us glimpses of the rougher edges and underworld that the characters inhabit. Another of the rougher edges to Gunsmith Cats is its not-infrequent use of fanservice, something extremely standard at the time that has become an enduring trope of the medium but can often put people off to varying extents.

Gunsmith Cats is not just shockingly competent, it might be the greatest anime popcorn movie of all time. It has practically everything you could ever look for in an anime or even just an entertainment experience, and it has it all in abundance. It's rare that anything ever lives up to the 'good old days' that one forges in the fires of nostalgia, but Gunsmith Cats unquestionably does and is a shining example of just how good now-retro anime could be. It's a great testament to the OVA format as a whole, where a budget would be applied to a smaller number of total episodes to inject a huge dose of quality into a shorter runtime than a longer TV series would get.

Despite its strong Japanese dub I highly recommend you check out the series in English for the effort that ADV Films put into helping make the series as authentic as possible as well as its strengths on its own merits. The Japanese audio track on the whole is also a bit too muted for my taste, with voices and especially the unique soundtrack being a bit too subtle and quiet to really appreciate. With a total runtime of roughly an hour and a half, Gunsmith Cats' mere three episodes are an extremely fun ride and there's very little to lose by giving it a chance. Its soundtrack by Peter Erskine sets it apart from most other anime, and further music released as part of an expanded universe of radio dramas and original music albums provide some of the coolest anime tunes of all time with Water Club Band's "Groove From Heaven" and "Shelby G.T.500", and I highly recommend seeking these two songs out if you can find them.

If you've ever wanted to get into retro anime it's hard to find a better place to start than Gunsmith Cats. Its DNA runs through anime as a medium due to its connection to creator Kenichi Sonoda, one of 80s anime's uncrowned kings, as well as its undeniable influence on things such as Cowboy Bebop, to say nothing of OLM's later success. How many other anime can you say had an animation director solely in charge of making sure the firearms looked and performed authentically?

Grab yourself a drink and a snack and let OLM and ADV take you on a thrill ride through the "City of the Untouchables". Oozing with charm and quality, it's every bit the fun American-style action movie of which it is a pastiche and there's fewer better places to spend an hour and a half in the whole of the medium than on this absolute classic as slick and stylish as Rally's beloved car.

A gem hidden among the stones, Gunsmith Cats is undoubtedly stardust.

-- Ash

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