#Spearhead Records

[tonycries]

O-O-O-OBSESSED!

Synopsis. When he’s gonna hit it, he’s gonna hit it till your mind breaks.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, dúmbifícation, running from it, cervíx kíssing, matíng presses, PÚSSYDRÚNK JJK MEN, bréeding, GOJO’S POWERS, mentions of kíds, p talking, headIocks, true form Sukuna, dp, spítting, cúmplay, MEAN Geto, breaking the béd, p spánking, marathons, proposals, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. PHEW hoping you have the loveliest week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 3 min. 12 secs

“Tch- where the hell do ya think you’re runnin’ off to, doll?”

Toji’s trapping both your droopy ankles with one dextrous set of his thick fingers, dragging you about halfway down the king-sized mattress in an instant. He’s oh-so-greedily pinning them over the curvaceous dip of his deltoids with a mean, sweat-slicked palm, “Don’t tell me yer hah- tapping out after only three minutes?”  

Punctuating his filthy push and pull with a few syrupy thwack! thwack! thwacks! of his strawberry-pink tip down your sappy slit. He’s leaving generous wiry ribbons of pre that smudge and smear a pretty lipgloss as you clench.

“N-nooo m’not–” You’re shaking your dizzy head as urgently as you could, huffing at the utter teasing in Toji’s sleazy, dimpled smirk. “I’m just…”

But what could you even say at this point?

“Oh?” Toji’s letting his dark brows scrunch at your hypnotized silence, the way your gaze was practically plastered with little heart-eyes and- Oh. Oh. He can’t help but loosen a breathy snicker as the realization hits. “Already?”

Yes, already.

Because Toji Fushiguro never held back - he never ever hid that his exact goal in these lecherous sheets was to fuck you until you saw stars. 

Always ruthless whenever he’s kissing your spongy cervix with such copious French kisses of his fat, rotund head. Always swollen so thick, with probing little veins sprinting against every one of your tender spots. 

The stretch so maddening that it left a translucent trail of dribble spilling from the corners of your mouth. Puddling out with every pressurized pound to swirl wet splotches all over that magical spot until you were sure it was bruised and battered.  

Until you were sure you couldn’t even formulate the thought process let alone the words to vocalize that he’d utterly fucked you stupid in all but three minutes. 

“Heh- shiiiit-” You’re blinking away the glazed film of lust that’d taken over your eyes, just in time to catch the way that Toji peeks his willowy eyes down below. Letting out the sexiest low whistle at the mess he’s making, “Think s’ a new record. Now, where’d my ngh- mouthy girl go, huh?”

Roughened circles of his digits dig into your legs, tightening and tightening when - with a ragged grunt - Toji bends. He hunches his bulky body until you’re compressed in half, washboard abs melting into your front, your heels imprinting into his back - into the dirtiest mating press. Gruffing, “Have ya seen her?”

And you swear you catch the way that Toji’s fattened tip only stretched tautly wider, swabbing around your sloppy hole in a teasing circle. He’s buttering you up with numerous lecherous slurps until you were dripping. 

But he was so slow - so taunting. Sharp malachite eyes dazzling with sheer amusement when you’re raking frustrated red, red lines down his muscular back. Mumbling tearily, I-If you’re not gonna hngh- fuck me properly already then–”

“Mhm- ya really are fucked dumb already.”

Hah, as if he already needed to confirm.

Because of course he was waiting for just this exact moment. 

Flooding your honeyed lips with the prettiest broken whines when he’s plugging you mind-splittingly full. Rasping out a low fuck! at the gummy resistance, Toji’s vice-like restraint on your legs grow even sounder as he all but hauls you down every snug inch of his cock. 

So solidly and completely spearheading his upright curve into your molten walls, it’s like you were scorching all around him. Sucking him up for more more more-

“Heh, do ya even r-realize how much you’re ngh- milkin’ me?” He’s cooing, pumping you with grinding ram after ram that has your clit massaging against Toji’s tufted black happy trail. Scratching. Filthily. 

“T-Toji—” And it’s the only thing you can say - the only thing replaying in your mind again and again and- Your maw slacks so scandalously open when his gluttonous fat head sugarcoats your g-spot in a melty mess of precum. Sloshing and sheathing your rummaged insides in a sticky second layer. “There- more- more please- m-more-”

You didn’t even have to ask.

Because Toji’s second-ever weakness was having you completely cockdrunk and stupid on his swollen length - his first being, well, you in all your entirety - and his third? Making you even stupider. 

Breath hitching, he’s angling his toned hips just right to brush up recoiling pecks on your precious spots exactly the way you like it. Making the splintering bedframe creak and whine almost as much as you. 

Eyes lounging lazily to the back of your head, your tongue lolls out with every dredge of creamy pre making it’s home near your g-spot. “Ngh- yeah- m-m…” Couldn’t even speak.

With a hoarse belt of chuckles, Toji’s free hand pokes your fuzzily cotton-filled head. “Oiiii- d’ya even hngh- have anythin’ else in yer cockdrunk mind? Ya always get so ah- greedy when yer like this, hm?” Those very same fingerpads hovering over your buttony clit, he’s giving you a sudden pinch. “Especially…her.”

Oh, that did it - just as Toji knew it would. 

Because you’re giving such a gluey squeeze of your adhesive-like walls around Toji’s throbbing shaft - making his chest stutter with a condensed heave, mouth lathering in a fresh batch of saliva that coats his sinful scar, and his brain short-circuiting just enough to feel the way you cum.

And not just any old orgasm - Toji’s spitting out a sharp few slews of profanity when he feels his hefty base soak in shiny, vicious waves of your slick. Blinking his dazed eyes down at his glistening abs - his pecs - to titter at how drenched he was. 

How you’d squirted until his weepy cock was dripping with every ounce of sopping wet juices. That blankly loving filter in your stare that made him wonder if you even realized how hard you’d squirted - or whether you realized that you did at all. 

You looked so tempting that he really, really can’t help but drag a thick thumb around your saturated pussy lips, drawing little hearts round and round where you were still bulging with all his bloated inches. 

“Awwww– already?” Toji’s hips were still so mean, panted out through each scouring jackhammer of his cock. He’s drenching little puddles on his digit, slipping it into his mouth with a greedy pop! And- shit, maybe he’s the one fucked stupid now. “How sweet. S-sooo generous this pretty pussy is.”

Because in a split-second he’s coiled two big, beefy arms around your waist. Biceps digging into your mounds of flesh, silky sheets hot against his back as he manhandles you to pliantly flip over however he wanted. 

Ruddied cock still buried deep into your goopy depths. So easy. So filthy. “Don’t think we’re gonna be hah- done for a long, long time, doll.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 7 min. 4 secs

“My love.” Nanami’s engulfing hand oh-so-sweetly cradles one side of your pretty face as you ride him senseless. Running his fat thumb down the tear-slicked rim of your lips. He’s warm, soft - the complete opposite of that chilling wedding band of his against your scorching flesh. “My love- a-are you alright?”

“Mhm— M’doin’ juuuust fine.” you’re barely able to mumble out, head lolling behind you as he thwacks his plump tip once more against your gummy cervix. Twice more. Thrice. “Ngh- easy, baby, the k-kids are sleeping.”

But your dear husband can sense that something is off. Something is…different. 

Maybe in the way that you’re looking up at him with bigger and bigger heart eyes after every rolling jackhammer, maybe in the way you’re practically plastered against his hulking body. Soft tits glissading up and down up and down the sweat-slicked plane of his wide, cushiony pecs. So drunken. So pliant. And he can’t help but plant a soppy smack! against the hooded of your puffy clit with one free hand. 

“Oh!” Your back curls into such a slutty arch - such a heavenly sight that makes him wish he had a photographic memory - squirmy hips bucking down harder and- “H-harder- Kentooo- wan’ some more–”

Oh?

And Nanami’s feeling his thickened head splurge your gooey insides with creamy wads upon wads of glossy pre at the mere thought - just the simple idea of you fucking yourself dumb while riding him. 

He could probably cum just from watching you like this.

Breath hitching choppily, he’s grabbing your throat - dragging you like some ragdoll until you were only mere condensed inches away from him. You couldn’t be…could you?

“Ken—” Your spit-slicked bottom lip juts out, weighty shuffling forward to press a pretty peck against that shallow dimple on the corner of his lip. Oh, you’d meant for it to land on his lips…but. “Awww, I missed.”

Oh.

But of course he can’t leave his dear wife hanging - especially not when you’re all fucking yourself stupid on him like this. 

He’s gifting you with an utterly dizzying kiss - making your tummy so melty with butterflies even after all these years. And you can’t help but keen-

“D-darlin’-” Nanami almost feels like he’s the utterly speechless one now, curling a singular hand around your waist to help your stumbling hips use his cock steadier. Deepening the angle to pound battered hit after hit against your tenderized favorite spots. Those manicured nails of his leave pretty crescent marks all over your fleshy skin when his uprightly curved cock thwacks! upwards. Feral. “Do you- ngh- know how b-beautiful you look right now?”

“Huh?” It’s so adorable how you’re stealing a few sloppy gyrations first before even registering what he’s asking. Cockdrunk and wordless that he’s coaxing out your answer with a sodden thumb smearing your waterfalling drool. “N-no?”

And without a second’s warning - without even a single speck of hesitation - the hand around your tender throat turns vice-like. Shackling. Cutting off both your airway and your heavenly view of a sexily prespired, half-lidded Nanami - turning that bleary gaze of yours towards the specially-installed mirror by your bed. 

Head craning to the side to catch how fucking ruined you looked right now, hips moving out of control. Cunt just bawling with a syrupy slick mess pooling underneath you two with every shuddering spearhead of his cock. 

“See? Just see h-how ngh- pretty my wife is.” Nanami’s rasping out, utterly wrecking your insides despite his sweet, sweet words. Branding circular divots of his head right into the very resiny bottom of your cervix. His lightning bolted veins just thump cheekily against your g-spot. “Always so pretty- could cum j-jus’ from seeing your ah- gorgeous face ‘nyways b-but…” Fuck- if you were in any better state of mind you’d have caught the way his stoic ears burn red. “...especially when you’re dumb like this.”

“Kento-” You’re crying out, mussing a hand through his dampened strands of blond. Tugging. Pulling to make him hiss. “C-cum inside me. Please. Wan’ it all i-inside- want you to make me pregn-”

“A-another?”

“Another.”

Fuck.

You were making him lose it. 

So rudely swatting your hands away to pin them behind your back with only one of his - metallic wristwatch cold against your heated skin. He’s curling your back into a simpering inflection before hammering you with the almost-inhuman thick curvature of his cock, splotching out a wet few wisps of creamy white- 

“Not yet- not yet-” Nanami’s muttering, and in your stupidly fucked state you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or himself. “Can’t- can’t ngh- yet-”

Rapturing it like a mantra over and over while blotting your g-spot with sloppy, dirty remnants of precum. Sloshing and glazing his bulky base and all the way down to his tight, thwacking balls. Making such a mess that only leaves you whining incoherently, jolting as if spiked by a sudden million volts of bliss when Nanami’s scooping up the sugary gloss and smearing it back into your gaping entrance. 

Until you’re curling your toes taut enough that you can barely move, fingers digging into the pale skin of his back, your vision tinging with a sudden flurry of stars as you cum.

“Tha’s it- that’s right–” he’s breathing out, labored and throaty. So fucking grateful for those sound-proofed walls he installed when you had your first. Voice dipping into almost whiny territory as your husband’s babbling everything that your dumbfounded maw can’t, “Ride me- f-fuck- ride me until ya cum. Ruin me until I can…”

And with a sopping pivot of his fat shaft to hit right against the edges of your womb, he’s flooding your melty cunt with copious ribbons upon ribbons of thick seed. Milky. Heavy. Icing your weepy insides in his favorite white. 

“M’gonna take c-care of it- take care of ya-” Nanami’s whispering in a hot pant against your ear, breath so strained and heated that it’s sending shivers down your spine. “Got a place hah- alllll safe n’ sound right- here-” 

Nanami can only grin at that inflationary little nudge of where he’s feeling his spattering cum seep press gluey little kisses into your glutinous walls. Because yes, you were gorgeous when you’re fucked dumb like this…but you were even more gorgeous when you’re all round and glowing for him. Patting your pretty tummy, just so impatient for his newborn daughter - yes, daughter - already. 

He’s batting his loving eyes down at your fatigued figure with so much adoration that it’s practically palpable. Sensitive tip twitching a perking jerk dangerously…Nanami licks his lips. When you look like this, he wants m-

“Kento—” 

Your needy whine snaps him out of his pussydrunken hypnosis, smacking a few innocent smooches against the side of your forehead. “Yes, my love?”

“More.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 4 min. 27 secs

Shit- shit.

You were so fucking cute - so dangerously ruined on Geto’s cock after only a few sloppy slathers of his thickened shaft down your spongy cervix that it was almost dangerous. That the ever-teasing Geto Suguru is finding his smirking mouth fill up with a few sing-songy coos. 

“Awwww, always so ngh- mouthy. What happened- you doin’ alright, gorgeous?” he’s breathing out in a hot baritone up against your ear, opaline white canines sinking into your lobe eagerly. “Though- guess she’s hah- talkin’ in yer place now, hm?”

She being your goopy cunt, the way it was resonating out the most sinfully saturated squelches! with every sheathing lamination of Geto’s cock inside your gummy walls. Practically talking - begging for more with every probing jackhammer of his angry, ample tip.

And with your teary gaze tiredly panned over your shoulder, you can make out the way that Geto was nodding. Dewy eyes scrunched shut like he was in deep thought, pretty lips moving to speak absolute filth. “Mhm– you’re heh- right. That would feel b-better, huh?”

Conversing - but not to you. 

And within one frowzy bat of your lashes, Geto drags up one of his thick, muscular legs. Years upon years of flexibility in battle being taken advantage of when he’s planting a foot down on your dizzy head and pinning you there. 

“Ngh! Sugu—” you can only whine, struggling and soaking yourself with the deepening change in angle. 

He’s only tutting at your sappy cunt, “I know- such a nasty girl, huh? So fuckin’- loud- too.”

Loud. So loud - and you weren’t even trying to be. Streamy rivulets of your glossed slick slurp out with every thudding thwack! of Geto’s sweltering hot tip drilling its way inside your elastic depths. He was so burning hot - feverish. 

Shoulders slumping, head bowing at just how lecherously you were sucking up every. Single. Blow he gave. And he can already feel the languid trickle of drool spattering at at the corners of his lips, “So cute- sooo cute- but the- ngh- the whole fuckin’ association’s gonna hear ya, y’know~” 

Before you know it you’re being engulfed with one of Geto’s massive palms - cold, slender, reaching over to muffle the utterly scandalous noises spilling uncontrollably from your sagging mouth.

“Not you, though-” he’s tittering, eyes locked down on the way all those weighty inches of his were disappearing and dabbing its way into your needy cunt. “You—” Leaving a particularly wet drag down your mushy insides, “Can ngh- talk allll you like- hah, because you didn’t get fucked stupid after only f-four minutes.”

“Ugh! So mean S-Sugu—” you’re sobbing out when his puffy head sponges against your poor g-spot for the nth time this night. Throbbing veins massaging your walls until you were sure your own heartbeat was syncing up with that staggering cadence. Nails raking down his strong forearm, “M-more–”

“What was that—?” He’s leering his head as close as possible, making your mouth lacquer with a greedy volume of saliva at the way his shoulders flex. Overflowing down his palm. “Heh- making such a m-mess, filthy girl. If ya want something, say it l-louder.”

Oh, by now you’re not just dumbstruck by his relentless pace - but also by how pretty Geto looks. With his long, inky hair freefalling in a soft curtain that tickles your curvaceous spine, half-lidded eyes unfocused and mean, cheeks flushed an innocent pink that matches his weepy tip.

And it’s just about all your melty mind can manage to hiccup out, “More.”

“Awww how cute- s’that all you can s-say?” He’s chuckling in a delirious little tone from above you, free hand nuzzling against your pulsing clit softly. Teasingly. Fully enjoying how you’re struggling against his hold to let out just a few more pretty noises. “Tell me.”

You’re nodding - nodding and nodding so hard that Geto snickers. 

But, well, who ever said that Geto Suguru was a merciless man?

“Fine- I’ll let ya have yer little fun.” He’s rasping out with a hoarse sort of shudder at the very thought that makes him whimper. But- shit, was he glad that you’re too stupidly ruined on his achy cock to notice. Too drunkenly ecstatic when he’s suddenly setting free your wobbly mouth, “If you can first hah- speak a proper s-sentence while takin’ my fuckin’ cock- how about it?”

“I-I- ngh!” 

But, shit, Geto wasn’t making it easy for you - the weight of his herculean body being pressurized into his foot even harder. He’s driving his hips into you so rocky that you’re sure you spot a few purplish bruises on his sultry hip bones. 

“Heheh-” Ah, he’s having so much fun leaving you stupidly speechless like this. You’re only whining when he toys a thick thumb around your clit, before pressing down on that buttony hood. Hard. “Biiiig stretch makin’ you stupid, gorgeous?”

It was. Oh, it really, really was - and right now you’re so far gone that the only thing you can do is take it. 

And Geto’s so perfectly practised in ruining you this way, too. Planting dense drivels of his fleshy tip against your sweetened spots, dragging the tubby divot in wet little smears in expert time with every squeeze of your clit. 

“Yes-” you’re mewling out a belated response to his question. “Yes yes yes-”

Only to be cut off with Geto’s palms smearing back onto your dozy mouth, blocking out the slews of addicted whines that just won’t stop. 

And, honestly, that heartbrokenly teary look in your eyes is so adorable that Geto’s throat clogs up with his own little whine. 

God, you were breathtakingly contagious. 

Voice strained - halfway through breaking - dipping a few octaves higher than usual when he’s hushing out, “Shh shhh- no needa force that ah- pretty lil’ head to overwork-” Leveraging the hold around your mouth to drag you backwards into his cadence. Filthier. More. “-you jus’ focus on t-taking my cock like a ngh- good girl and I-” Oh, he’s almost collapsing onto you - already in for a long, long night waking up the association. “-will focus on fillin’ this talkative cunt up.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 6 min. 18 secs

“Ch-Choso–”

And, to Choso, it was like the pearly gates of heaven had already opened their way up - and sat right front and center waiting on the other side for him was you. 

With your trembly legs splayed out on either side of his vicious hips, hands sticking oh-so-desperately to the leather seat of his sleek black Hellcat. You’re lathering his swollen cock with thick, lustrous coatings of his cum from just before - when he’d crashed into his orgasm simply from putting it in. Drowning out your thoughts with the most saccharine sweet slurps from down below-

“Cho, baby–” Tapping his lovingly blushed cheeks a few times to knock your dear best friend back to at least an ounce of his senses. You brush away a few chestnut strands sticking to his prespired forehead, “D-dunno how m’gonna face your f-family after- ngh- this!” 

And it takes him a few sloppy seconds - it takes him everything to even think of a jumble of words that might count as a reply. 

Clammy hands latching on greedily to your vigorous hips, Choso has to force your cadence to slow down until he can string together a few syllables with his slack mouth. “Wh-why? I already hngh- parked a few blocks away from dad’s, s-so they won’t catch-” 

“I know but—” your whining comes out so treacly condensed in the heady air of his car. Making him mindlessly ram another syrupy snog into your cervix. “But- you’re just fucking me so- so stupid.”

Oh. 

That’s enough for Choso’s head to fall attractively backwards until his full weighty body was being supported solely by the cushiony seat. Pretty twinkling tears of sensitivity clinging onto his batting lashes, he’s whimpering, “M-me? I’m fuckin’ you hngh- stupid, baby?”

“Mhm—” 

Nodding your head, your thighs just burn after every shuddering dab of Choso’s thickened length probing inside your gooey insides. Mushing up a spot modeled after him, an angry circumference of his fat tip indented into your poor g-spot. You’re feeling rivulets of his veins reaching each and every sensitive spot you never could. 

He was drilling into you so filthily. So dirtily that your head was spinning with each sloshing wad of his seed swirling your insides. 

And Choso - fuck, Choso looked like he was on the very urge of sobbing. Or, perhaps he was, you were much too cross-eyed at this point after every ram to confirm.

“I’m fuckin’ you s-stupid- Me.” he’s breathing out with such an air of worship. Blindly clasping one of your hands smeared against the foggy window to guide up to his lips and kiss. “S-say it again, my pretty baby. Heh…”

And right now, you don’t think you would’ve wanted to even if you could. 

Jostling your hips with fresh pound after pound that leaves your soppy mounds of flesh stinging at the impact, every doughy thwack! of Choso’s plump, cum-filled balls against your ass has you gasping. “F-feel so- hngh- dumbstruck right now, Cho–”

“Because of m-my cock?” He’s giggling - giggling, a sleazy grin splitting that handsome face of his. Choso’s steering your needy hips to bounce down his copious inches faster. And faster. “Heh- is takin’ my cock like a hah- good girl m-makin’ you feel good?” 

Fuck- and you can only nod. 

“After o-only a few minutes?”

Punching your fists against his broad chest, but to Choso it only feels like a few kittenish bumps. “Cho! M’gonna g-get off if you t-”

“No! No no no no—” His knees thwack! against the car interior when he’s manspreading even wider. Legs jerking tightly up and down to collide your tender insides with plumpish mushroomy cockhead, “Stay- stay. Hngh! Hafta fuck you s-soooo much stupider.”

Fully as stupidly speechless as Choso was right about now, you didn’t know who was faring worse. 

His muscular thighs slipping and sliding against yours with a glazed coating of cum and your honeyed slick. A low ah! ah! ah! slipping out every few seconds from those rosy pink lips of his with every drooling blow into your slobbery pussy. 

“R-ride me until ya can’t even think, baby-” He’s pleading - begging. Viscous ropes of spit spattering out between his slack maw, he was drooling. Lips trembling, “Ride me- hngh- ride me a-and…choke me.” 

Oh, the very second those pretty fingers of yours take Choso’s favorite position around his neck, his proudly globular head racks up a few gauzy wisps of pre. Dangerously creamy. Icing down your walls and making his overstimulated self keen. 

Unable to even your sentence, your face hides in the very crook of his neck. Nuzzling against his sweat-simmered skin with how positively heavy your entire body felt. “G-god- feels s-so…”

“Nuh uh.” Choso lets his words drag out into a cute whine, chest hitching purely parched when your digits block off his airway even more snugly. “N-need to see your ngh- pretty face, baby- please- I need you to- need-” Sheer yearning flashes in his eyes when you’re tilting your head towards his fucked-out features once more, “-need you to kiss me.”

You’re giggling out, words airy. “S-so bossy, Cho–”

“Jus’ can’t get ‘nough of you.” He’s mumbling - hot and and heavy against your rawly kissed lips. 

And it was a wonder that Choso could manage to strangle it out from his heaving chest, that he could even manage to breathe. Because with one last shuddering smooch of his rotund crown into your g-spot, you’re both tumbling headfirst into your high - Choso’s second orgasm of tonight.

And with every toe-curling flash of white, he’s smearing such streamlined splatters of seed into your melty insides. Hot. Sploshing down your walls and milking velvety rings upon rings around Choso’s hefty base - so viscous that you could almost taste it. 

He’s making such a mess, too, giggling at how utterly speechless you were. Shrilling out nothing but mewling calls of his name.

Shit, music to his ears that Choso finds himself hypnotized to. Barely even registering when he’s patting the nudge of his puffy tip against your womb, pushing - just slightly - enough for tumbling dredges of cum to spill down your seeping slit and luster him until he was drenched. 

“G-gonna hafta clean the c-car before we get back and ah- announce…” He’s looking up at you with stars in his eyes, so adoring that you could almost cum again from just this. “-our engagement.”

Your words choke up into a rolling ball of lead - an engagement? To your best friend? All the way before dating? And, yet, maybe it’s because your mind is still left in completely stupid shambles from before that you find your lips curling-

THUD! THUD! THUD!

A knock, and Sukuna’s voice through the black-tinted windows.

“OI! Jin is searching for you brats all over the place- SO YOU BETTER BE IN HERE-”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 2 min. 8 secs

“Fuck- fuuuuck would ya look at that cute lil’ bulge.” Sukuna’s chest heaves with rumbling little chuckles that echo against your back, two out of his four beefy arms pinning you so helplessly into his cushiony chest. “Well…heh, not little.”

The notorious king of curses was standing so tall - towering - and his dually rock-hard cocks were just the same. Swabbing open your slickly flooded insides in such a lecherous full nelson, he’s splitting open your glutinous walls with branding, thorough thrusts. 

Knocking up against each and every bullseye of magical spots that he’d already memorized. You’re being shovelled with a girthy indent of his upper tip against your mushy cervix, managing out a broken K-Kuna—

“Tch, I know I know-” he’s rolling his eyes, leveraging the sinful uses of gravity below to watch you slip and slide your snug channel languidly down his left-curved shafts. “Ya want more- ‘sn’t that right, spoiled brat?”

But the only thing that thunders in Sukuna’s ears are the melodies of your sweetly singing cunt, slushy squelches of your puffed-up pussy lips slurping up every one of his numerous inches. 

And, now, don’t get Sukuna wrong - it’s one of his favorite songs, one of his few weaknesses - but where was your honeyed voice?

“Oi- silly girl- forgot how ta ngh- speak?” You’re hearing from above you, all monstrous seven feet of Sukuna’s figure hunching over just enough for him to snarl hotly against your ear. “How else is the ngh- entire palace gonna know that m’makin’ my wife feel good?”

Punishing your plump clit with a lingering swat! of his thick fingertips, “Not answerin’ your king, huh? Guess I’ll jus’ hafta-”

“Ngh- m-more-”

Oh? That tone sounded familiar. 

And now usually Sukuna would growl at you for speaking out of turn, usually he’ll plant a few sodden thwacks against your battered cervix to remind you exactly who you’re dealing with. But right now, he’s only scoffing, “The hell was that? Speak up.” 

“More, Kuna—” Fuck, the utterly primal neediness in your voice has even Sukuna stuttering his vicious hips - much to your disappointment. And you’re wrangling in his vice-like grasp to gulp down a few more clingy gyrations of his cocks inside your gluey depths. “More- I n-need more- harder.”

“More?” he’s whispering. Seething. Shaking with a humorless little grin that oh couldn’t have been directed by anyone but you. “More. Heh fuckin’ slut. M-my little human wants more- oh, new record.”

Ah, new record indeed. 

It’s been only what? A minute? Two? And here was his beautiful queen, all fucked dumb on his cocks again. So ruined that you could barely even speak, a smooth staccato of only wanting more replaying in your mind when your husband plunges in a capsizing few jackhammers. 

You barely even register it when one of his hands tighten on your scalp, overgrown fingernails craning your head uncomfortably up, up, up for him to splatter your tongue dripping wet with a sleazy wad of his saliva. “Yer fuckin’ gone arentcha?”

And he might just be, too, with how pliantly you’re letting that thickened mass slide all the way down your tastebuds. Huffing, “F-fuck- more.”

“Greedy lil’ thing.” He’s puckering up your sodden folds with a slow circles of his fingers, before clashing another good smack! Dragging out velvety ribbons of your honeyed slick that cling to his digits, “Such a filthy pussy, even after- hah- after I can see my bulge in that ah- puny human cunt o’ yours, woman. Ya still want more?”

“B-bulge?” Your head lolls over to rest against one of the curvaceous cushions of Sukuna’s muscular deltoids, glazed eyes drifting all the way down-

Oh.

Fuck- the sight as complete heaven.

Your lips were parting way for Sukuna like butter, slobbering down your sweet sap of juices to him like you were glossing every inch of him. Bludgeoning in his rotund mushroom tip until your ass was bruising against the unruly trail of drenched pink that led to his swollen hilts. And the bulge- shit.

The bulge was rummaging itself to all the way up about halfway down your tummy - edging at your fucking lungs it felt like - was such a perfectly cylindrical outline of Sukuna’s matching cocks. Smearing open your gluttonous walls so widely agape, he’s crashing his smooching tips against your g-spot, your cervix. Both at the same time. Everywhere and anywhere that you could see now. 

“Oh-oh-” you’re whining out, lower lip trembling every more frenzied with every glissading dab against those spots. The way that Sukuna had your clingy walls milking him so tight. “S-s’so big, Kuna–”

“Oh? So ya can speak other words.” He’s chuckling, fat fingers pressing a curving little pattern down on your sensitive nub. Pinching. Tugging. So harshly that you can’t help but flail in his hold mid-air. “Easy, easy there, brat. Jus’ thought ya f-forgot how to, heh.”

Oh, he was such a tease. 

Such feral darkness oozing into his words when a third of his hands guide your own to caress that lecherous bulge. “Here- don’ be shy- wanna touch it, ngh- dontcha?” And of course, you do. Rubbing over the creamed divots of his outlined tips. In awe. “-yeah like- fuuuck like that- heh…such a cutie when you’re all f-fucked dumb.”

Shit- so utterly adorable that he can’t help but leave another sopping wet smack! on your clit. Another. And another. And another and another until the heat curls up scorchingly in your stomach, and Sukuna’s taking your star-struck moment to snicker, “Mhm– m’feelin’ a little bad for this ngh- p-poor cunt though. Maybe  I should take out one cock…” 

“No!” You’re crying out, hips trying so ravenously to scoop up every sloshing glob of pre that butters up your insides. And you’re sucking in every inch that you get, every merciless ram. All while boring your eyes into Sukuna’s tearfully, “N-nooo I wan’ it- wan’ them both s-so badly.”

Fuck, you were dangerous.

And the most powerful can’t do a single thing. Because, really, who was he against you?

Can’t do anything but lacquer your drooly tastebuds with another syrupy ball of spit - enough to make you cum. 

Sparks of your high sprinting throughout your body, sheening an almost-sparkling wet slobber around Sukuna’s bucking cocks - all the way down to his flexing thighs. It’s thwacking and skidding your jiggling ass against his mounds of muscles even harder, riding out your orgasm on the way that Sukuna’s gifting sopping smacks! on that poor hooded peak of your clit. 

Blinking back overstimulated tears, “Kuna–”

“Ah ah- ignorin’ the king when he’s t-talking to ya, cutting me off, cumming with no warning…” he spits hotly against your ear. “I should make ya pay for treason, woman.”

“H-how?” Still so cockdrunken. Still uselessly struggling against his twitchy gyrations, zig-zagging little wet paintings down your inner walls. 

Sukuna pretends to think, a sleazy grin plastered permanently on his face. “Hmmm, how about…ya ah- squirt f’me.” All the while boring his devilishly red eyes into your heart-eyed ones. How cute. “If that pretty lil’ empty head remembers how that is, h-heh.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - 11 min. 6 secs

“C-can I cum inside? Again? P-please?” Ino’s hissing - more to himself than anything. Words bubbling out after each and every lazy swat! of his fat, ruddied tip down the very bottom of your pappy wet cervix. He wants more. He need more. “Shhh sh sh- jus’ a lil’ more- please. Just some- ah-”

Shit- it’s been what feels like hours now. 

Your beloved boyfriend stuffing you full of ropy smears of cum over and over. Until your slick-filled cunt was flooded with an excess of his seed, until you couldn’t even think over the deafeningly saturated slurps of thick wads oozing out from you down below. 

Until you were fucked stupid after only a few greedy hits of Ino’s fattened tip into your melty core - until he was utterly spellbound, too, after about solely ten minutes into this new round. 

“T-Taku…” You yelp, throat scratchy with how strained your poor whines have become. Your legs dangle helplessly off his strong shoulders, such a sloppy mating press by now that it would be embarrassed to even be called one. “Baby- harder. Wan’ more…wan’ you to f-fill me up.”

Fuck.

Now, Ino knew that you were thoroughly drowned and cockdrunk - but he didn’t know you were this ruined. And fuck- fuck, he’s giving the side of his fatigued thigh a harsh pinch. Once. Twice.

Trying oh-so-hard to blink back some semblance of thought into his dizzy mind. He feels like he’s nodding drunkenly, planting a damp trail of pecks down your cheek because shit, he missed your mouth. “Oh. Wh-what was that? Ngh- say it again f’me, pretty? P-please–”

“Taku—” you’re whining impatiently. Cloying wet grinds of your hips swirling his thickened length around you so blissfully, sugarcoating thick rings of pre around your insides. “J-jus’ cum inside me again.”

“Sh-shit-” Ino’s pretty features scrunch up in such bliss, plumped-up balls squeezing to dredge out another wispy chain of cum. “Ohh ya have n-no idea what ya do to me.” Decorating your familiarly bruised cervix with a freshly lathered glaze, he’s whimpering. “C-can you say that f’me a-again, sweetness?”

And you’re letting your pouty maw fall slack in order to - to demand for more. A few stupidly mewling sentences on the edge of your tongue when Ino’s reeling his hips back and thudding numerous wet collides into your sloppy cunt. Prespired body glissading easily - so sloppily - against yours in determined smack! smack! smacks! such a tangled mess of limbs and need.

God- it almost hurts. Overstimulation and pleasure hitting him doubly all at once, he’s gritting his teeth with a rough groan of your name before planting more pounds after pounds. 

“D-didn’t say it f’me- ngh- ah! again–” Ino’s panting into your dumbstruck-open mouth, sweat-lacquered forehead resting against yours. Pinching his thigh over and over to just keep his senses. And his deep voice cracks into a whine at the very end, “Talk to me. Please, tell me- ngh- t-talk me through it, pretty. Please-”

But his actions spoke the complete opposite. 

Ino was clashing the steamy curve of his rotund tip against your g-spot so hard, beating it like a sloppy drum with every jackhammering dab of his hips. Fucking out every thought and gurgling syllable out of you with a pussydrunkenly boyish grin.

Spitting a thick pwah! of saliva onto two of his slender fingers, he’s dipping them down, down, down to roll a few zig-zagging patterns on your pulpy clit. 

“C’mon- w-wanna hear your pretty voice—” he’s babbling, pearly tears making their home at the crinkled ends of his delicately pretty eyes. 

“T-Taku–” You don’t think you could’ve spoken even if you wanted to, tugging through his smooth woody hair. Until it makes him hiss, and his sultry crownhead gush out wet globules of precum. “No ngh- fair.”

“Heh. Who has ya f-feelin’ like ah- this, sweetness?” He’s snickering into the corner of your mouth, chestnut eyes drooping further and further half-closed the deeper his veiny shaft was poking into the goopy bottom of your pussy. The further he was milking his seething tip on every miniscule cling of your walls. Teasing, “Who? Oh whoops- h-heh- tha’s right…you can’t talk right now.”

But oh, Ino had forgotten that just how fucked stupid that his brain was meant the exact same for his body, too. 

Because in a split-second, you’re elbowing the pillowy mattress determinedly to flip the two of you over - Ino’s swollen girth still sunken inside, your brain still woozy. Even more so when straddling the slender curve of your boyfriend’s hips, trembly palms trekking down his mountainous pecs to push him flat onto the silky sheets. 

Ino has such a sexy look of drunken adoration in his eyes when you’re bouncing your squelching cunt to ride him out of his mind. Prattling with your currently one-tracked brain, “S-said I wan’ you to f-fill me up, Taku–”

Oh. oh. And then he is - both of you are. 

You’re jerking almost-violently at the wracking bouts of high that take over your body, flashing silvery stars behind your scrunched-up lids. Those sobbing thwack! thwack! thwacks! of his bulbous tip have you shrilling, letting Ino reach out a hand to draw little circles over your overwhelmed clit.

And he isn’t any better off - has his eyes sliding all the way back until all you could see was pure ivory, Ino’s chest arching deliciously into yours. His lower lip strawberry-red from being bitten hard enough gulp back those wrenching whimpers threatening to burst pathetically free.

One hand leaving a quick smack! to the fat of your ass before swirling it in hypnotic little circles to feel those ribbony globs of his cum sloshing around. Ah, he can feel it steaming thick masses so deep inside you - jittery fingers feeling for that familiar hot nudge at your womb. Such voluminous amounts that laminate his twitchy shaft with layers upon dripping wet layers of glistening seed, making such a mess-

Ino ends off with a giggle - a giggle. “Oh, I love it when yer r-rough w’me, pretty.” 

♡ GOJO SATORU - 25 secs

“-twenty-three…twenty fouuuur-” Gojo’s dragging out, rounded tips of his fingers ghosting over your pulpy clit - just far enough to zap! your sensitive hood with an atomic buzz of jujutsu. Grinning down at you from where he’s holding you captive in a lecherous prone bone, “-twenty-five- h-heh…n’ already gone. New record, sweetheart.”

And you would’ve snapped back at your utterly ecstatic boyfriend if you could, you would’ve huffed out that he totally drawled on the count far longer than it should’ve lasted - but how could you?

Because just the sappy peck! of Gojo’s globular tip down the treacly pucker of your slit makes you dizzy. Meady wet spurts of his precum strolling languidly down your pussy lips, making such a mess - and he’d barely even shovelled you overly snug of his full, thickened tip. 

But oh what was unfair - what was so completely dirty - is the way he was buzzing his filthy fingerpads with a shimmer of cursed energy, pinching your sensitive clit just enough to make you see stars.

“Ngh- oh my god.” you’re babbling out through slacked lips that feel like they’re fucking numb. Hips dizzily confused whether to bury yourself in a cocoon of those silken navy sheets or to run away. 

“Yes- yes tha’s right–” he’s cooing, one hand swiping away the globular pearls of sweat that trek down your forehead, the other ringing out against your peaked clit with a miry swat! “Talk t’me ngh- l-loove hearin’ what that empty lil’ haaah- cockdrunk mind of yours has ta say.”

Sobbing out, “S’jus’ so- so big, Toru—”

“Heh…see?”

Yeah, he loved the cute wafting nonsense that spilled from your lips whenever you were fucked stupid on his thick, throbbing length. Red and angry to make your head even emptier-

And you’re scrambling helplessly towards the plushy pillows, the edge of the bed, the fucking headboard - only for Gojo to slam! one massive palm down on the mahogany headrest. Splitting it straight down the middle-

Muttering in your ear so sultry, Gojo’s slurring out a stumbling, “Now now- where’d ya think you’re going?” Your entirely shivering body being scooped up with a single curl of his bulging forearm around your throat. Fuck- his sweat-glossed biceps flex as you’re hauled back down, down, down onto his thoroughly rummaging cock. 

“B-barely even halfway in n’ yer already so heheh- fucked dumb.” Giggling - giggling - deliriously in your ear in condensed little pants, he’s so hot glissading his weighty body down your back. Rows of ivory white teeth sinking into your precious ear lobe, you’re graced with a firm set of six-inch fingers on your waist. “Get- get ready for a hah- biiiig stretch, sweetheart.”

And a big stretch, it was. 

It feels like you’re being rawly split apart - Gojo’s intruding girth caving out a bulging cylindrical pathway down your slobbery pussy. Puffy, crowned cockhead smearing open your gluey walls until you were sure you could feel every ridge, every thumping vein. Feel him poking his weepy divot into your mushy cervix in thick drags - you could cum from just this. 

And you think you do - without your poor, spellbound goo of a brain even realizing. Your back arches into an almost painful curvature when you’re throwing your head back and cumming. 

“Please- please please-” Garbling out, so fucking cute that he can’t help but lick a sleazy stripe down the glistening middle of your back and hum.

You’re gasping at the thickly vicious splatter of something on your shoulder - only to bleary your heart-filled eyes over your shoulder at the way that Gojo was drooling. 

Whining, with every pap! of his prettily full balls against your ass. Slumping his heavy bodyweight like he was melting into your, ridged washboard abs massaging your back, hefty bodyweight pinning you down onto the mattress. His bicep curls into an even tighter headlock around your straining neck, “Yeah- ohoho yeahh that’s the stuff- t-talk to me s’more, my girl.” 

“C-can’t even-” You’re whimpering out, hips jostling upwards in embarrassing little grinds that swirl the very rounded tip of Gojo’s tip around your melty insides. Milking out heaps upon heaps of creamy precum with every one of his greedy drives. “-can’t even think- can’t even b-breathe. J-jus’ want you…”

God - he was making a sheerly sludgy mess out of you. Branding your sweet insides with sugary coatings of precum, with thorough bruises. 

“What do ya w-want, sweetheart?” Gojo’s muttering all over again, bearing your puffed-up clit with another pinch. Then another. And another. “Anything m’gonna give ya- ahhh, fuck- anything.”

Blinking up tearily, “A-anything?”

Which only makes him fuck you hard enough to practically mesh into one with the mattress - and then some. And it’s like he was pounding himself just as stupid on your cunt as you were with every one of his animalistic rams. 

Sodden. Heavy. French mushes against your bruised g-spot - and you could already tell by the scarily bittersweet accuracy and those stray bolts of tiny blue lightning that Gojo was using his six eyes to cheat his way buttering your pretty cunt with lethal hits. 

To spy your sweetest spots inside-

“M’gonna marry ya-” Promising over and over when he’s routing a wet trail of kisses down your perfectly arched spine. “-buy us a niiice big mansion- or a small one- your hah- choice. Grow old together, n’ I’ll kill off anyone that dares object.”

“Satoru…”

“Yes- yes?” Sapphire eyes wide and wild now - like he was in the middle of a fight, like he was prowling for prey just the way his fat tip was probing down every orifice of yours. “Tell me- tell me, sweetheart.”

“I-I want-” your lower lip wobbles adorably, and Gojo can’t help but slither his own down and suck like his favorite gummy candy. Making you mewl, “-wan’ a baby.”

And you swear you could hear the lilting crack in Gojo’s voice when he’s echoing out a highly-pitched. “A b-baby?”

The only thing your poor brain can manage out is a nod, and the only thing he can manage out is to just barely not fucking snap. 

THUD!

Gojo’s got you locked in his powerful hold - muscled figure pinning you to the soiled bed, his deadlocked bicep hauling your mouth onto his. And he’s snapping his hips to yours so hard that you wince ever-so-slightly at the bruise surely formulating by now - or, well, would have formulated had it not been for Gojo’s reversed curse technique. 

Working overtime now to not break a bone when he’s plugging your sodden insides with thick knots of cum. He’s cumming and cumming so hard that Gojo thinks he can’t stop - thinks he doesn’t want to. 

“H-how I love when ya talk outta yer ngh- pussy, sweetheart-” Your shoulder stains with a few more translucent spatters of drool - and tears. Big and overstimulated, beading behind his glazed lids. 

Gojo can’t let a single swashing wad of his seed drizzle to waste, plugging in numerously overspilling ounces back in through your puckered pussy lips. The sheer volume making his achy balls twitch with more and more. Doubly penetrating your sloppy hole with two fingers, he’s taking the sinful opportunity to slither a few spiralling patterns around your sensitive entrance. 

A baby. 

“A baby. A…a fuckin’ baby.” Gojo’s shaking his head - crazed. Smile humorless and dangerous where it was directed at you, and for a moment you’re wondering who really is the one fucked stupid right about now. “Oh, my girl, I’ll give you ten.”

A/N. Smooches to that one nonnie for sparking the idea hehe <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Duran Duran - The Chauffeur 1982

Rio is the second studio album by English band Duran Duran, released in 1982. A new wave album with musical elements such as dance and synth-pop, Rio is mostly composed of fast, upbeat numbers, with a couple slower synthesiser-based ballads. The cover artwork, painted by Patrick Nagel and designed by Malcolm Garrett to resemble 1950s cigar packaging, is considered one of the greatest of all time.

Duran Duran shot music videos for many of the album's tracks, all of which helped spearhead the 1980s MTV revolution. Accompanied by three worldwide hit singles, Rio peaked at number 2 in the UK and remained in the chart for 110 weeks. Initially unsuccessful in the US, the album was remixed by Capitol Records to better match American radio at the time; the remixed album spent 129 weeks on the Billboard chart, reaching number 6.

Rio initially received mixed-to-negative reviews from critics, who commended the melodies but disparaged the lyrics. Retrospective reviewers consider Rio timeless and the band's best work, praising its instrumentation and band performances. With the album, Duran Duran were forerunners in the Second British Invasion of the 1980s, helping ensure the success of other English artists throughout the decade, and along with Culture Club and Spandau Ballet created a teen frenzy similar to Beatlemania during the first British Invasion of the 60s. Rio has since made appearances on best-of lists and has been reissued several times.

"The Chauffeur" was created on the spot in the studio. During downtime, Nick Rhodes retreated to an auxiliary studio room with Blauel, their tape operator, and crafted a track using keyboards, synthesisers, the sound of an ice cube cracking and a conversation about nature for extra effects. Simon Le Bon accompanied him with lyrics he'd originally written as poetry in 1978, and adding a melody on an ocarina. The final track features no contributions from the three other band members. An acoustic version (Blue Silver) was recorded without Rhodes, which appeared as a B-side to "Rio". The keyboardist later quipped, "I guess that was my punishment for have created an entirely electronic track."

"The Chauffeur" received a total of 64,6% yes votes! Previous Duran Duran polls: #21 "The Wild Boys".

[yesterdayiwrote]

The most fucking annoying thing about all the "conflict of interest" gate is it's going to be F1 Academy and Susie that suffer as a result of it.

They're not going to lobby for Toto to move on and dissociate from Mercedes, they'll want Susie fired, so F1 Academy will lose the person spearheading it, despite her clearly being the best qualified person for the role right now. Just as the series is finally going to get an opportunity to take off, it will lose its rudder and get derailed before its begun.

And even if they DON'T find anything of note, it's Susie's reputation that will end up being tarnished, because its always women that bear the brunt of these things, despite F1 and 'conflict of interest' going hand in hand since records began.

And all this for a tabloid magazine article by someone who not only is banned from the paddock, but has been on the receiving end of numerous libel cases from people inside the paddock.

The FIA are trying to appear like they're being 'fair and thorough and authoritative' but they're not, they're just legitimising the accusations when it's not really their issue to investigate. It's shameful politicking and it's yet another example of the FIAs internalised misogyny. Where was their investigation into the allegations about Mohammed Ben Sulayem? Or is it only when it suits them?

[thewertsearch]

Tavros, who dreamed of flying, came from a line of winged trolls.

I have thought of the summoner often. I have 8een trou8led to know that as one so common 8looded, he could not possi8ly have hatched yet, nor will he wriggle from the caverns for many sweeps.

As has been implied before, troll lifespans are correlated with blood color. The 'higher' your blood, the longer you live.

Actually, it's possible that the causal link worked in the opposite direction, since longer-lived trolls would naturally accrue more power and influence than their compatriots. Maybe troll society used to be more egalitarian, but over time, more and more power became concentrated in the castes that exhibited more longevity, until we eventually arrived at the current status quo.

Hey - what does this mean for Karkat, actually? He's not on the hemospectrum, so it's difficult to guess how long he might live. Best-case scenario, his lifespan follows Zodiac ordering, which puts him somewhere between Nepeta and Kanaya.

He would rise through the ranks of the cavalreapers and assume command, having proven the most skilled and fearless of them. He would exhi8it a remarka8le pup8tion, the sort only recorded in myth, growing, or perhaps simply revealing, a striking pair of wings.

...which means that Tavros, too, could have flown under his own power, had he lived just a little longer.

He never knew just how damn close he was to achieving his dream. Would you call that a tragedy, or a kindness?

His army thus inspired would spearhead a major re8ellion. Surely one at least on the scale of the sectarian revolt crushed 8y the High8loods, who thereafter for8ade its mention, or any invoc8tion of the heretical sym69ls at all, even in private journals. Which is why I will stick to the fa8le of the summoner, and not risk another execution with even o8lique reference to the compelling tale of the sufferer.

Damn it, Hussie. You're telling me Karkat's ancestor was history's greatest revolutionary, and you're just going to leave me hanging? Go back, damn it!

I can certainly see how this might have come about. If Vantas was another mutant, he'd definitely have 'suffered' under the Alternian regime - and someone with Karkat's personality wouldn't have taken that lying down. I imagine the Sufferer adopted his descendant's leadership style, and essentially bothered people into fighting for social change.

Come to think of it, I could easily see Karkat himself being radicalized, if he'd stayed on Alternia for longer. Given his mutation, I doubt his dream of being a threshecutioner was realistically achievable, and it's likely that his adult self would eventually be forced into hiding, lest he be culled. He'd have to realize the Empire sucks eventually.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Okay, I'm curious : what's your stance on Leona's and Idia's theory, as mentioned in the recent Book 7 update?

[You can read my full thoughts on the book 7 part 12 Cater and Deuce update here! ]

I'm assuming you're referring to them discussing the possibility of Trey and Cater "using" Riddle for their own nefarious gain? If I recall correctly, it's Leona's theory and Idia mainly reacts to it or comments. To review (for those who may not understand what I'm talking about): in the recent book 7 update, Leona proposes the idea that Trey and Cater propped up Riddle as a successor to the previous Heartslabyul dorm leader. The previous dorm leader was not only lax with enforcing the rules, but essentially made Heartslabyul a pretty lawless land with graffiti on the walls and the garden a mess. However, according to Leona's theory, Trey and Cater didn't boost Riddle up out of the goodness of their hearts or out of concern for their dorm being run into the ground. No, Leona proposes that they did it so that they could gain power themselves. After Riddle is in power, Trey and Cater would become his right-hand men and advisors, thus puppeting Riddle and manipulating him to act in ways that benefit them. In this manner, Trey and Cater can create the Heartslabyul that they desire while Riddle is just the figurehead. In other words... Leona's saying Trey and Cater spearheaded the revolution to overthrow the previous dorm leader in order to benefit themselves. It's something that's not all too uncommon for unpopular political regimes. (Have to say though, very appropriate for Leona, the literal prince and a rebel of the savanna, to bring this concept up.)

adsjbbiaslyiyovfviea I don't... really have particular thoughts on this theory, because the update basically debunks it by the end of Cater's dream. After waking, Cater claims that he's actually pretty satisfied with how Heartslabyul is irl (so he has no reason to try and puppet Riddle). Leona even states that he guesses this theory was wrong--and he has a track record of being intelligent and perceptive, so I'm choosing to believe him when he says he's wrong. Cater then follows up with a jab at how Leona is the type to actually incite a revolution (throwback to book 2), not himself, which I'm going to take as further confirmation that the theory wasn't right.

Beyond what the characters actually say in Cater's dream, I don't think it makes sense for Trey and Cater to be the masterminds that Leona speculated they are, and nor is Riddle some mere figurehead. Like... yes, Cater has been shown to be manipulative, but he doesn't act in ways that are more malicious than tricking underclassmen to do things for him. He also doesn't strike me as someone seeking great power or control. Trey also has a devious side, but again he doesn't strike me as someone that wants to be in charge and he is typically presented genuinely supporting others. He is someone who has been deceived by others (ie Jade) too; do we really think he's as crafty as Leona is saying he may be??? Finally, there's Riddle. Come on, now. Do we REALLY believe that Riddle Rosehearts, Mr. Teapot Tyrant, the Rose Red Ruler himself, would let his dorm members boss him around? Yes, his mother exerts an insane level of control over him, but she's his parent and so Riddle will naturally defer to her. At school, Riddle is extremely arrogant and believes that he is the "most correct". I don't think he would allow himself to rule based on the discretion of others--and if you'll recall, Riddle fails to observe the advice Trey gives him, especially in book 1. No, Riddle actively rules and calls the shots around Heartslabyul. To call him a figurehead or someone who rules according to the whispers he gets in his ear is not accurate based on what we've seen of him. The only real wisdom Riddle seems to take from the third years of his dorm is Trey’s general advice to keep a leash on his temper—which is a very reasonable request, but not some mastermind manipulation tactic to control Riddle.

If Cater and Trey support Riddle, that’s their prerogative. I feel it’s definitely more on Trey’s part than Cater’s, as Cater generally tries to stay non-confrontational (he hesitates to fight OB Riddle + gets freshmen to do things for him) whereas Trey, as Riddle’s second-in-command and childhood friend, is more active in supporting his lead. I don’t think there’s malice or ill intent behind this. They’re more enabling than manipulating. Leona just judged them wrong because his own perspective is angled to doubt others’ intentions (he’s an underhanded character himself, so he perhaps expects this behavior of others too).

[usnatarchives]

The WAVES of Change: Women's Valiant Service in World War II 🌊

When the tides of World War II swelled, an unprecedented wave of women stepped forward to serve their country, becoming an integral part of the U.S. Navy through the Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service (WAVES) program. This initiative not only marked a pivotal moment in military history but also set the stage for the transformation of women's roles in the armed forces and society at large. The WAVES program, initiated in 1942, was a beacon of change, showcasing the strength, skill, and patriotism of American women during a time of global turmoil.

The inception of WAVES was a response to the urgent need for additional military personnel during World War II. With many American men deployed overseas, the United States faced a shortage of skilled workers to support naval operations on the home front. The WAVES program was spearheaded by figures such as Lieutenant Commander Mildred H. McAfee, the first woman commissioned as an officer in the U.S. Navy. Under her leadership, WAVES members were trained in various specialties, including communications, intelligence, supply, medicine, and logistics, proving that women could perform with as much competence and dedication as their male counterparts.

The impact of the WAVES program extended far beyond the war effort. Throughout their service, WAVES members faced and overcame significant societal and institutional challenges. At the time, the idea of women serving in the military was met with skepticism and resistance; however, the exemplary service of the WAVES shattered stereotypes and demonstrated the invaluable contributions women could make in traditionally male-dominated fields. Their work during the war not only contributed significantly to the Allies' victory but also laid the groundwork for the integration of women into the regular armed forces.

The legacy of the WAVES program is a testament to the courage and determination of the women who served. Their contributions went largely unrecognized for many years, but the program's impact on military and gender norms has been profound. The WAVES paved the way for future generations of women in the military, demonstrating that service and sacrifice know no gender. Today, women serve in all branches of the U.S. military, in roles ranging from combat positions to high-ranking officers, thanks in no small part to the trail blazed by the WAVES.

The WAVES program was more than just a wartime necessity; it was a watershed moment in the history of women's rights and military service. The women of WAVES not only supported the United States during a critical period but also propelled forward the conversation about gender equality in the armed forces and beyond. Their legacy is a reminder of the strength and resilience of women who rise to the challenge, breaking barriers and making waves in pursuit of a better world.

Read more: https://prologue.blogs.archives.gov/2023/11/06/historic-staff-spotlight-eunice-whyte-navy-veteran-of-both-world-wars/

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

By John Mackay and Martin Scott

New South Wales (NSW) Ministry of Health data released last month under freedom of information laws reveal that 6,007 patients contracted COVID in the state’s public hospitals in 2023. This contributed to the death of 297 people, meaning that 14 percent of fatal COVID infections in the state were acquired in hospital.

The data, which also cover the first four months of this year, show that similar infection and death rates have continued, with 1,729 patients catching COVID in NSW hospitals and 86 dying, between the start of January and the end of April.

The NSW figures are in line with previously uncovered Victorian data, which showed that 6,212 patients contracted COVID in the state’s public hospitals and 586 died in 2022 and 2023.

This is a direct product of the conscious and planned abolition of virtually all public health measures to prevent the spread of COVID, including the removal of mask mandates in hospitals. These pro-business “forever COVID” policies, adopted by all governments worldwide, have in Australia been spearheaded by Labor at the state and federal level.

The NSW hospital infection figures were unearthed through a persistent 18-month campaign by lawyer Peter Vogel. His first Government Information Public Access application to the Ministry of Health was made in February 2023. This was rebuffed, with the Ministry claiming, according to Vogel, “It would take 140 hours to produce a report showing [the] number of hospital acquired COVID cases.”

After Vogel requested an internal review, the Ministry replied in July 2023 that it “does not hold complete and accurate records regarding nosocomial [hospital-acquired] infections.”

Only in June 2024, after multiple additional freedom of information requests to other agencies and repeated denials that any part of the NSW government or health bureaucracy had records of hospital-acquired infection, did the Ministry of Health admit that it held the information the lawyer sought. Even then, it claimed it would take 31 hours to produce a report, and Vogel would have to pay $930 for it. The data were finally provided to Vogel on September 17.

This is just one example of the extent to which serious illness and death from the ongoing COVID pandemic is being consciously covered up by the state and federal Labor governments. With the aid of the corporate media, virtually all reporting of the deadly virus has been suppressed, to provide phoney justification for the profit-driven and unscientific abolition of basic infection control measures.

The entire testing and reporting infrastructure has been eviscerated. Only two states, NSW and Western Australia (WA), continue to test wastewater samples for COVID, while hospitalisation figures in most jurisdictions are only reported intermittently.

Most strikingly, COVID deaths are no longer reported in NSW, Queensland, WA or the Northern Territory, except as part of overall mortality statistics, released months after the fact. The presentation of these national mortality figures, produced by the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS), has been modified to obfuscate the substantial increase in annual deaths, which is ongoing.

According to the outdated and incomplete official figures, COVID contributed significantly or was the main cause of more than 23,500 deaths between January 2022 and September 2024, around one-quarter of which occurred in residential aged care facilities.

In a grim refutation of the lie that the pandemic is over, COVID-contributed fatalities this year have occurred at a rate of 497.5 per month, barely lower than the 512 per month recorded in 2023.

The fact that so many fatal COVID infections have been contracted in health and aged care settings underscores that, in line with capitalist governments worldwide, Australia’s state and federal Labor governments are committing social murder, targeted at the most vulnerable people in society.

Dr Stéphane Bouchoucha, president of the Australasian College for Infection Prevention and Control, told the ABC the NSW hospital infection data was “concerning and tragic.”

He said: “This is the core business of infection prevention and control… The premise that we can allow some deaths, to me, is wrong.

“We know how COVID is transmitted and we know how to prevent healthcare associated infections,” Bouchoucha stated, referring to the need to ensure good ventilation and air filtration, testing and contact tracing, isolating infected patients and requiring healthcare workers to wear masks.

Many of these measures were introduced in the early stages of the pandemic and had a significant impact in reducing the spread of infection within health facilities, but have since been abandoned.

This flies in the face of decades of medical advances and longstanding infection control measures in hospitals. For example, there are long-established protocols for identifying and preventing the spread of infections with “golden” staphylococcus, a hospital-acquired bacteria that can be resistant to antibiotics.

In NSW, the tearing down of COVID public health measures began under the Perrottet Liberal-National government, but has been completed under the Labor government led by Premier Chris Minns. This could not have been carried out without the assistance of the health unions, which have enforced every reckless and unscientific step of the process.

In 2022, Health Services Union (HSU) national president and NSW state secretary Gerard Hayes was at the forefront of demands for the scrapping of COVID isolation requirements for health staff, because of the supposed impact of such measures on “the economy.”

In August 2023, the HSU hailed the NSW Labor government’s scrapping of public hospital mask mandates as “a milestone in health.”

The HSU, along with the NSW Nurses and Midwives’ Association, promote the lie that COVID is a thing of the past, entirely separate from workers’ disputes over pay and conditions in recent years. These struggles have included multiple mass strikes by more than 10,000 nurses and midwives, but year after year, the union leaders have pushed through sell-out deals, slashing real wages in line with government demands.

The reality is that the fight for decent working conditions in health is inseparable from the fight to end the COVID pandemic, which has massively exacerbated the dire state of the public hospital system, which faces a chronic shortage of staff and resources after decades of union-enforced government cuts.

To take this forward, health workers will have to take matters into their own hands. Rank-and-file committees, independent of the unions, must be established in hospitals and health facilities and the fight for patient and staff safety linked with the struggle for real improvements to workers’ pay and conditions.

In the first instance, this must include the re-implementation of infection control measures, including masks and isolation, in all health workplaces. But as long as the virus is allowed to circulate unchecked among the broader population, protecting hospital patients and staff will be a constant battle.

A fight must be taken up, by health workers and the working class as a whole, for the elimination of COVID worldwide. This is possible, but not under the framework of the capitalist system, which rejects public health measures as unprofitable, and not within the borders of a single country.

Workers in Australia and worldwide confront the existential necessity of a struggle for a political alternative to the ruling class program of endless infection, illness and death. Only through the fight for a workers’ government to implement socialist policies, can society’s plentiful resources be stripped from the banks and corporations and turned towards ridding the world of COVID and making high-quality public healthcare freely available to all.

[inthemaelstrom]

Screw the Debate

Yanno, the debate was not a job interview. The man's had the job for four years now and done it exceedingly well. The debate was a sideshow. It's not a job requirement. it's not even a campaign requirement. We didn't always have them. What they are is moneymakers for network television, and click generators for political pundits.

LOOK. AT. THE. GUY'S. RECORD.

That's what you should be voting on. Voting for. Or at least voting against the rabid Orange Dumpster Fire spearheading Project 2025's goals of making us a fascist nation with all of us under the rule of bigoted white men. Unless you're one of them. And if you don't vote for Biden, you're certainly not voting against fascism, no matter who you're voting for.

[eretzyisrael]

by Seth Mandel

The headlines about an essential new study by the Henry Jackson Society focus on the fact that the casualty numbers out of Gaza have been “inflated.” And that is true, and important. But more important is how those numbers have been inflated, and which casualties this effect applies to.

HJS’s Andrew Fox spearheaded the rigorous study, and provided a great public service in doing so. It is now incontestable—though it was evident already—that Hamas has lied. But this report implicates the Western press and politicians in ways that may be uncomfortable to face. Regardless, face them we must.

Let’s jump right to the point. At the beginning of the war, Hamas Ministry of Health statistics on fatalities were the only regular source of data on the subject and were mainly supplied by hospital officials. A couple of months into the war, a second source became regularly available: official family reporting of loved ones lost. These require eventual verification because they are tied to government benefits due the bereaved families.

At some point, hospital records were disrupted by the effects of the war and Hamas began changing its methods of collecting the data to less reliable, less scientific, and less reviewable ways.

Can you guess what happened? Sure you can.

At the beginning, both Hamas and family reporting found that military-aged males constituted a similar share of casualties. When Hamas changed its counting methods, those numbers diverged significantly.

Can you guess which one matched the trendlines from before the divergence? Of course you can.

The family reports remained statistically consistent and the Hamas numbers went cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.

From April to August of this year, the report states that, according to Hamas hospital numbers, 45 percent of those killed were men and 37 percent were children. According to the more reliable family reports, men were 64 percent of casualties and children were 22 percent.

Except, “children” generally means under 18 and Hamas has been known to tweak it to 19. Which means we know for a fact a chunk of that 22 percent were combatants. Some of those combatants were children, some weren’t. The fact that Hamas uses child soldiers actually benefited the terror group in the media narrative, because the numbers never distinguish between civilians and combatants, and news consumers don’t read “children” and assume “combatants.” The press was broadly complicit in normalizing and incentivizing the use of child soldiers, a fact that should stain many reputations forever.

But wait, there’s more. The report notes that Hamas—and thus the press—includes natural deaths in the casualty count. There were more than 5,000 natural deaths in that time, by conservative estimate.

But wait, there’s even more. A review of the first 1,000 names on Hamas’s casualty list between the beginning of the war and the summertime found more than 100—that is, 10 percent—had their ages revised downward. In other words, between the time that Hamas numbers could be plausibly verified and the more recent counts, lots of people suddenly became “children.”

But wait, there’s still more. Gaza casualty numbers include those killed by Hamas or other Palestinian armed groups. Remember the al-Ahli hospital blast that was reported initially as a Israel’s fault, only to become clear soon after that it was an errant Palestinian rocket (likely from Palestinian Islamic Jihad)? Those deaths still get reported today by the press as caused by Israel because they are included in the casualty numbers—as are, if you can believe it, all Gazans murdered by Hamas security forces during the war.

But wait, there still even more. Cancer patients, the report shows, were listed as war fatalities by Hamas while still also being listed as alive and receiving treatment in Israel or some other treatment center outside Gaza.

Two main conclusions. First, once you drop the natural deaths, approximate the numbers of those killed by Hamas or other Palestinian groups, and adjust the demographic numbers to fit the actual family reports, you end up with about as many militants killed as civilians. In an urban environment with the Hamas soldiers stationed among civilians, this means Israel’s civilian-combatant ratio is not just low but unheard of.

Second, much of the reporting and commentary has framed this war as a “war on Palestinian children.” It’s a convenient reanimation of a classic blood libel, and it is demonstrably a lie. I don’t think anyone using the “Israel is murdering Palestinian children” talking point was ever interested in statistical accuracy, but it is important that the rest of society is aware of the level of deception being practiced by those who propagate it.

[novella-november]

So uh, how are you planning to enforce the "no AI" rule? What do you plan to do if a participant is accused of using unacceptable software?

There's no submissions and no enforcement.

If someone is posting the in #Novella November & #NovellaNovember tags:

clearly-AI generated content (such as AI-generated book covers)

bragging about using AI

Talking about how they used x AI program to make X part of the book

etc

Then I can guarantee you they're going to simply be blocked by a few thousand writers en masse.

Probably they will get at least a few people trying to talk to them about the harm that AI does, and better alternatives that don't mass-steal from a few million unconsenting people--

alternatives like:

finding someone to partner with to discuss your ideas for brainstorming instead of asking an AI chatbot

.

Joining a "secret gift" group where everyone digitally "pulls a name out of a hat" or is randomly selected to make a cover for someone else's book idea

.

commissioning an actual artist for a cover

.

youtube tutorials on how to use GIMP as a free Photoshop alternative to make your own cover, with links to sites such as Pexels that have free stockphotos for anyone to use

.

Choosing a lower, more manageable daily word count goal if 1k or 500 is too out of line with your work schedule/ability to write on your own instead of resorting to AI generation to try to make up the difference out of anxiety

.

finding alternative medias to 'write' with, such as using an app on your phone or the in-built accessibility features on Windows that let you use your voice to type, so if you can't physically type or write with your hands or other limbs, you can instead dictate your novel outloud, which would also work if you are often away from home or can't actively use your phone but *can* record your voice passively as you work with your hands on another task :)

so...... yeah.

Literally the only things that would happen if someone tries to use AI in the #Novella November and #NovellaNovember tags would be the writing community collectively:

attempting some outreach; education is key to realizing the harm being done, after all! Maybe the person just doesn't know any better, and felt like that was their only option to reach their goal.

blocking the person, and if they're actively malicious in their AI use (such as fully knowing how much it harms writers/artists, how much of it is based on plagarism, or actively going out of their way to steal other people's work) people will probably start warning others about them as well so they can be blocked in advance, the same as other people who are harmful to communities.

This is a community initiative, spearheaded by this blog purely because I came up with the idea first and want to make sure that, at least to start out and as long as I can manage it, the community is the key part of being supporting and caring of each other, because billion dollar tech companies and those who are swayed by their money sure as heck aren't going to stand with us.

If someone is ""accused of using unacceptable software"" ..... they're just gonna get blocked if they're posting AI generated content, like everyone else who posts AI generated content get blocked by the community at large as they're encountered.

I'll repeat again: this is a community initiative, not an organization. There's no submissions people are sending anywhere to "confirm" word counts; --

Only:

people posting their celebrations and woes in the tag,

posting their frustrations and questions,

receiving answers and advice from the community,

sharing art and snippets, making covers, making decorative goal cards,

No AI is allowed in Novella November -- if people are posting or bragging about using AI generated content, they're simply going to be announcing themselves to thousands of writers (plus everyone who follows those writers) that they're a good person to block and never interact with 🤷

[aurora-313]

Hi there.

I do wish to share a hot about certain events and characters in Bleach.

I don't think Rukia should have been the captain of squad 13. Here me out, she is qualified to be a captain and has bankai. But not for the 13th squad. We didn't see her interact with squad 13 as much as she did with squad six (Renji and Byakuya). The only significant interaction she had was with Kaien who later [redacted] in her hands.

We didn't get to see the relationship between her and Ukitake as captain and lieutenant duo and...generally really. Meanwhile we have seen great relationships with other squads like Shunsui and Nanao, Byakuya and Renji heck even Komamura and Iba had their moments together but not Rukia and Ukitake.

It upsets me as an Ukitake fan that she gets to fully admire the same people who tired to kill her in their first introduction instead of her Captain who not only said fuck you to C46 but also went against the Head captain (whom he has generated respect) to save her life🥲

Plus they didn't even get a flashback moment in tybw anime before Ukitake performed the ritual. One of the reasons I detest tybw. And she even said his line from the manga'we all feel the same way as the court guard' like come on! It would have been an emotional moment if Kubo expanded on their relationship more😤 I prefer to just ignore tybw as a whole sometimes

I apologise for the rant but I don't hate her. I hate the way Kubo handled her character as well as others sometimes. What do you think?

Well. I despise TYBW, period, so you're already starting off on a good foot with me.

I categorically reject its existence in favour of FB functioning as an epilogue and an imagined ending scene where the next year they visit Masaki's grave, Isshin strikes up a conversation with Ichigo, asking "Hey, did I ever tell you how I met your mother?"

I'll just say for the record, you don't need to redact any words, mate. We're all adults here. If one word sends someone into a foaming fit they mash keys incoherently, they have bigger problems than a random stranger on the internet.

Anyways. That aside: I will say I agree with you. To a point. Rukia's arc was about overcoming her own isolation, either self imposed or imposed upon her. EG. her talents with reiatsu in Rukongai isolating her from her adopted siblings, her adoption into nobility, her perceived role as a 'Captain's pet', her guilt from killing Kaien (when you can tell he regained control and threw himself on the blade rather than hurt her, plus her orders to do it.)

Rukia achieving Captaincy is meant to be the thematic conclusion of that arc. Overcoming her isolation to become the leader her division need her to be in the wake of tragedy. We do see it a bit in the story.

Thanks to Ichigo, Rukia was able to form bonds with the humans in Karakura; she was able to rediscover her will to live; she was able to rebuild a bond with Renji (though I'm confused how the fuck her first adopted brother became her husband, or how she forgave him for literally trying to kill her the first time they met in 40 years. Maybe Rukia's got some twisted kinks) and form a proper siblinghood with Byakuya; Rukia was able to look in the face of the man she believed she wronged most (Aaroniero!Kaien) and tell him 'I'm sorry but until I've achieved my goals, I can't give you my life'; she was able to muster the courage to go against Soul Society's laws and spearhead the effort to give Ichigo his powers back, ultimately roping in everyone up to the Yamamoto to help.

As inheritor of Kaien and Ukitake's legacies, captaincy was absolutely in Rukia's future. But to my mind, it should've been an achievement she gained well beyond what the source manga covers. If Bleach was ever cursed with a 'next gen' series, Rukia should be in that line-up. (which, I will concede, she is. But I despise everything to do with TYBW and the epilogue, so I categorically reject its existence.)

I will also agree we absolutely missed out on anything that showed why Ukitake chose Rukia as his new Lieutenant outside nepotism and being Kaien's former student. We saw nothing of their working relationship. We didn't see Rukia coping with the extra duties of being basically pseudo-Captain all the times Ukitake gets laid out due to illness. We don't get to see her working with Kiyone and Sentaro as their superior or any connections with the 13th before she's elected Captain. We're in complete agreement there.

Thematically, its meant to be a triumphant end for her character journey. In practice, screams of nepotism and a desperate need to back fill ranks because everyone is else qualified is dead, exiled or a traitor.

I'll be completely honest with you: The kamikake is bullshit. The whole plot point is bullshit. It positively screams of Kubo realising Ukitake is the golden bullet in the war against the Quincy, given Sogyo no Kotowari's power is literally catching and sending objects back at a foe, empowered several times over (ridiculously overpowered against foes that use exclusively energy projectiles, no?). The whole plot beat is Kubo deciding, "I need this character to die because he's far too broken for this war. How can I justify it? Oh, lets make him a part-Soul King."

TYBW's adaptation is middling to mediocre. I gave the first cour a watch. Not only was I mind-numbingly bored, the amount of character content cut that gave us vital context to character reactions.

My first warning sign was the first episode: 2/3rds of the episode wasted on two plebs we'll never see again. Who really gives a damn about these two idiots? Really. Sure, the manga set them up to be Ichigo's new apprentices. Which would've been a fantastic dynamic. Ichigo's the veteran teaching the impressionable young rookies how to fight and survive (honestly a far better story than what we got) but Kubo quickly punted that idea to the curb and shat all over it, in favour of a war with absolutely no stakes nor reason to care, really.

The death knell for me was the second episode: Ichigo going on patrol after hearing about Sasakibe's funeral.

In the manga, Ishida and Ichigo have a conversation about it where they agree the only reason they were allowed to overhear that phone call - or rather, the only reason the random blebs of the week received that phone call - is because Soul Society was going to tap Ichigo for help. Ichigo went on patrol to calm his nerves because the anxiety of waiting was eating him alive.

Additionally, we had a scene with the Lieutenants discussing the disappearing souls in Rukongai, then promptly freaking out because they thought their comrades had turned traitor (again) and turned their blades on Rukongai residences.

Instead the anime would have us believe Ichigo sad over a guy he'd never officially met died. A guy whose only interaction was Ichigo shattering his entire ribcage to protect Rukia and Renji's escape from Sokyoku hill. And the Lieutenants' investigations/findings are cut entirely.

That told me everything I needed to know about how this adaptation was going to go; relentlessly hacking away anything worth paying attention to, replacing it with meaningless fights, jingling keys, more filler fights, shoehorned ""shipping"" (its not even that, let's be real), infusing boring characters with artificial relevance and pushing a worse narrative than anything the manga provided.

Don't even get me started on the bullshit they've done to the Soul King.

I didn't know how TYBW could get any worse or any more illogical, but congrats Kubo, you've managed to crawl under my expectations.

To sum up: I agree with you to a point. Rukia and Ukitake absolutely should've gotten more scenes together (maybe if Kubo stopped adding characters and built up the ones he already had...), Rukia's Captaincy should've been a future/next gen plot point, and uh, yes. I hate how every character is handled in TYBW.

(You're fine ranting. I've given you a rant in kind so I think we're even. lol)

[pinknipszz]

golden girl

↷ ˊ- neteyam/metkayina reader | (i.), (ii.), (iii.), (iv.)

“cause i have walked a thousand miles for the golden girl, golden smile.”

neteyam had finished the spearhead in a matter of days. after having secured the carved bone to the end of a sturdy pole, he tried its durability against some fish, but not without whispering a few prayers beforehand. his arms had grown taut from the strain, and neteyam feels sorry for leaving you worried, even when he had apologized that he’d be missing another day’s lessons for reasons so futile.

but you, oh so beautiful you, had placed a gentle hand on his chest that spoke a thousand reassurances. the skin underneath your palm rejoiced at the contact, buzzing with delight. neteyam couldn’t even begin to recall what you had really said to him. but if you asked what beads were in your hair or what your eyes remind him of, he’d have an answer. he’d say it like gospel truth. 

after you had left, he returned to the spear. he was still a warrior at heart. 

neteyam remembers how the weight of it felt strange in one hand, and how he didn’t quite know what to do with the other. if you had been there that day to watch him, hunting fish with an aim that wouldn’t even impress a baby, you would have called him out on his tense shoulders or unsure feet. it just felt awkward, unfamiliar. his stance, his spear, the sea. but he didn’t want to call it wrong.

sure the smooth stone was too heavy for an arrow and too thin for a spear, but he would never call it wrong, a freak of nature. maybe he would have in the past, but now he knew what it really was: a little like him. carved for the forest before he changed its purpose. now the weapon was neither arrow nor spear. neither land nor sea. it lays tucked away in his family’s marui, collecting dust and dreams he dared not speak.

visiting the tidepools became a pastime, just as you predicted. it had not even been several days since neteyam last asked you to accompany him, but you didn’t mind. it made up for his recent absences. while you do adore his siblings and treat them like your own, you admit that there’s a charm in the eldest that simply could not be replicated. so when he had asked you one morning, your heart jumped eagerly.

you felt guilty the more you realized the reality of the situation. you joined the group for tuk out of the goodness in your heart, and now you yearned for her older brother. it made your stomach churn, yet a quiet, selfish part of you wondered what it would be like to stand by neteyam’s side, to call his family your own, and to have his child. you wanted a hand to slap you across the face, hard, for such thoughts. 

the sun peeked through the overgrown palms as you and neteyam followed the familiar path to the pools. it didn’t take much convincing from your parents, much less his own, as if they could see something far beyond the line of friendship. growing and taking shape. the thought left you stubborn, willing to deny and fight for your pride, but you knew that it’d be for naught. neteyam captivated you beyond recognition.

you grew shy of his advances too, if you could even call them that. his silly attempts at conversation, the looks he gave you from afar, even now, with his hand entwined in yours, as he led you to the spot. they fell under an umbrella without a label, or on a blurred line between friends and something more. you bit the inside of your cheek until it drew blood, nervously savoring its copper.

“there will be more fish today.” neteyam said almost to himself, his eyes trained forward. “the waves were high last night with fish of all sorts of colors. you will like them.” you’re not sure if that’s how it works, but you didn’t comment on it.

“then we’ll bring fish for your family.” you squeezed his hand, committing his rough calluses to memory. warm. so warm. “you’re siblings are doing much better now. i wish you had been there to see it.” you remember how lo’ak had finally beat his record of twelve minutes with a commendable sixteen. truly a magnificent feat considering it had only been a few months worth of progress.

tsireya had been the first to congratulate him, all sunshine and smiles. kiri and tuk joined right after. you were fourth, and ao’nung the reluctant fifth. the metkayina trio had decided to end the lessons on a high note by dedicating the rest of the day to “unsupervised” ilu riding. truly, lo’ak had grown spoiled. but there was the unmistakable glint of disappointment in his eyes at how neteyam had not been there to see it.

his steps slowed as if to absorb your words properly, before turning to you with a strange expression. “is that how you feel? if you had asked me to stay, i would have.” neteyam said so easily, his voice light and borderline teasing. how cheeky! you looked away first, unable to maintain eye contact for too long. 

the sea smelled stronger here at the edge of the mangroves, numbing your senses. you could only imagine how neteyam felt. the pools were closer too, and oddly enough, he had been right. the pools were higher, deeper, fuller. they reminded you of what you suggested prior. fish for his family.

“did you bring your spear with you?” you asked.

neteyam shook his head, shrugging. “left it at home.” home. you didn’t catch his slip.

he let go of your hand so you can jump off the rocks. then, he followed suit. neteyam memorized it by now, the patterns in the rock. where to step, to pause, to turn. how one had more algae than the other. he doubts he’ll ever get over the feeling of wet algae though. it nearly left him nauseous, but he won’t tell you that. “then how do you suppose we catch fish?i thought you were a hunter.” you huffed.

“a warrior,” he corrected.

“is there a difference?” 

surprised with your sudden curiosity, neteyam thought for a moment. truthfully, there wasn’t much of a difference when both hunters and warriors fought to survive. most times he felt like one or the other, other times neither. “somewhat,” he decided, choosing his next words carefully. “one hunts, the other kills. unless you plan to eat your enemies, then you could be both.” your face scrunched in disgust and you punched his shoulder.

chuckling, neteyam reached down to splash water in your direction. “i’m glad you can call yourself a hunter,” he continued. “i don’t want war to touch this place.” fish darted to and fro, and plants waved their tendrils at you. when his eyes grew distant, focusing on violent memories, you watched him quietly. never had the differences between you two been so clear, like the waters of your home. 

you were a hunter, he was a fighter. you hunted with intent to feed, he fought with weapons to kill. the cycle of life and death, just as the great mother had embedded in your psyche. like natural law. it was just as strange how two na’vi of two clans could stand so close together, so strongly juxtaposed. sometimes you wondered if this was wrong, or simply one of the many unexplainable things that ewya had intended. 

but how could you ever call it simple? even when his shade of blue was so different from yours, and how arms and legs and tail were so much thinner, you swore nothing has ever looked, felt, so right. “did you hunt in the forest?” you asked.

“often.” neteyam looked at you, so much lighter than he ever has before, at the mention of his first home falling from your pretty lips. two of the things he loves most entwined together. he fought the urge to kiss you, to feel the forest and the sea at once. “the first thing i caught was a fish.” 

“you and i aren’t so different then.” you grinned.

neteyam finally felt that, after all this time, the move had been worth it. he promises to bring the spear next time.

(masterlist)

[black-arcana]

"Oh my god, there was so much talk: ‘I bet there’s a real rivalry going on!'" How Within Temptation and Tarja Turunen formed the ultimate symphonic metal tag team for blockbuster single Paradise (What About Us?)

Two symphonic metal icons united for this powerhouse 2013 single. Sharon and Tarja tell us how it all came together

(Image credit: Press)

When Within Temptation and Nightwish released their debut albums in 1997, there wasn’t a name for the kind of music they made. Within Temptation’s Enter, released in April, took obvious influence from gothic metal bands like Paradise Lost, but its grandiose, elegiac compositions and symphonic undertones hinted at the direction the band would eventually take. Conversely, Nightwish’s Angels Fall First, released in November, approached metal from a different direction, drawing more directly and heavily on folk and classical music. Ultimately, both bands would spearhead the symphonic metal movement of the early 2000s. But, anchored as it was around two charismatic women – Sharon den Adel and Tarja Turunen respectively – history tells us surely there must have been some rivalry. Symphonic metal’s answer to Blur vs Oasis perhaps, or Mustaine vs Metallica?

"You look so beautiful, Sharon!” beams Tarja, as her counterpart joins a Zoom call. Erm... maybe not then.

Hammer is speaking to both vocalists more than a decade on from their collaboration on the Within Temptation song Paradise (What About Us?), the lead single from 2014’s Hydra. As soon as Sharon joins, any notion of tension is quashed. Tarja’s expressive face lights up and the pair chat animatedly.

There’s a clear camaraderie between them as they joke and discuss new developments. Which raises the question, was the ‘rivalry’ just a load of bollocks?

“Oh my God! There was so much talk, like, ‘I bet there’s a real rivalry going on between you and Sharon’,” Tarja says, hissing like a cat to illustrate her point. “I was just very happy to see more girls singing in bands. It made me feel really proud of the movement. I still am!”

“We didn’t even really become aware of the idea of ‘symphonic metal’ until later when journalists started giving it a name,” Sharon admits. “I don’t think there was much overlap between Nightwish and Within Temptation. The music was very different but because there were some similarities, people had to give it a name!”

Those similarities were enough to turn Within Temptation and Nightwish into leaders of the burgeoning symphonic metal movement, however. Sharon and Tarja were soon upheld as inspirations for a subsequent wave of symphonically inclined artists that included Epica, Leaves’ Eyes and Delain, dispelling the notion of metal as a boys’ club.

“We often felt like the strange duck on the festival bill because there was a woman in the band where most bands had male singers,” Sharon says. “Plus, I wasn’t really from the scene when I started out – I was a big grunge girl!”

“I started out in classical music so I was a complete weirdo in metal, too!” Tarja chimes in. “Though I never let that experience bother me. I felt the embrace of the crowd, but also our colleagues were really nice, so I never needed to grow balls. Although, maybe I got used to it, because I had two brothers at home and was the only girl in my primary class. Six years with nothing but boys! Urgh!”

Although separated by more than 2,000 kilometres, it wasn’t long before the pair became aware of each other’s work.

“When I first heard Within Temptation, I was like, ‘This woman has such an angelic voice’,” recalls Tarja. “We must’ve still been working on that first Nightwish record, so I’ve been aware of them from the very beginning, really!”

“The first time I became aware of Nightwish, we played a festival together,” says Sharon. “People were really excited about the band so we went to see them. We were blown away by Tarja’s presence onstage. It was so powerful... so diva!”

However, the bands’ chances to cross paths proved surprisingly few and far between. By the end of the 2000s, Within Temptation were undeniably still symphonic metal scene leaders. They’d also grown tired of the tag. Both 2004’s The Silent Force and 2007’s The Heart Of Everything had topped the charts in their native Netherlands – as well as charting internationally – but the group were getting increasingly itchy about where they could go next. 2011’s The Unforgiving was a sprawling, multimedia concept record that saw the band incorporate more pop influence into their music. Now the pressure was on to reinvent themselves again.

“Hydra was our most difficult album,” Sharon acknowledges. “We were very much searching for direction, because we’d already achieved our biggest sound. So it wasn’t like we could go much bigger than that, particularly in terms of symphonics. We were searching for a way to evolve and take inspiration from something new.”

It was an exciting time, but the creative tumult meant some ideas almost got scrapped entirely.

“Paradise (What About Us?) was one of the few more typical Within Temptation songs on that album, but that whole record took a lot of searching,” Sharon remembers. “I actually wrote it with our keyboardist, Martijn [Spierenburg], and when I first looked back on it I was like, ‘Urgh, this is too much!’ It was Robert [Westerholt, guitars and Sharon’s husband] who insisted it was really good, and he wrote the song’s main riff. I had originally written it with just lines on the piano, but he added a whole different flavour to it that really worked. Otherwise Paradise might’ve ended up in the waste bin!”

During the writing process for the record, Within Temptation decided to reach out to a number of guest vocalists, feeling they could add unique flavours to the music. They signed up former Killswitch Engage vocalist Howard Jones, Soul Asylum’s Dave Pirner and even rapper Xzibit, but by far their biggest coup was enlisting Tarja to sing on lead single Paradise (What About Us)?.

“There were two reasons we wanted Tarja for Paradise,” Sharon admits. “Not only for her voice – we felt like she could really add something – but also because in a more literal sense we figured it would be paradise for the fans! Ha ha ha!”

As it turned out, Tarja was delighted by the opportunity. She’d been trying to catch up with Sharon over the years, but their schedules had never aligned. Now they were working together, they could connect properly.

“It felt like I’d known her forever,” Tarja says happily. “I kind of felt that connection even before we met; Sharon must have gone through so many similar things to myself. We could recognise each other.”

Although they were bonding, there was still a distance between Tarja and Sharon – physically, at least. Tarja provided her vocals remotely from a studio in Buenos Aires, where she was living with her husband and infant daughter.

“I was bubbling with the joy of being a new mother and my family travelled with me everywhere, even to the studio when I recorded [2013 album] Colours In The Dark,” Tarja says. “I’d faced a lot of challenges of my own; I wasn’t really trusting in my abilities as a songwriter, for example. Paradise helped me so much, because it was so nice to even be asked about something like that. I think I had been waiting – without knowing – for something big to really happen. I didn’t doubt for a millisecond that this collaboration would be special!”

As it turned out, the distance also helped Tarja interpret the song, and gave her a bit of breathing room to work on ideas.

“I was really nervous!” she admits. “I think if Sharon and the guys had been next to me, that would have been something completely different. Because I was somewhere else, I could get into the song in my own way.”

“That’s also beautiful, because it means Tarja’s meaning for the song became its own thing,” Sharon adds. “For me, the song was about how we never learn from our mistakes as human beings. Because it’s such a big and cinematic song, Tarja’s voice added that enormity to it. She’s the empress!”

Released on September 27 2013, Paradise (What About Us?) finally united two of symphonic metal’s leading ladies. Predictably, the response was ecstatic from critics and fans alike, and to date the song has amassed more than 30 million streams on Spotify, as well as more than 100 million on YouTube. In turn, when its parent album, Hydra, was released on February 4, it quickly became Within Temptation’s most successful release to date, topping the charts at home in the Netherlands while landing a Top 10 position in the UK (No.6) and Top 20 in the US (No.16).

More than a decade on from its release, Paradise (What About Us?) feels like the moment Within Temptation drew a line under everything that had come before, saluting the original leading lights of symphonic metal while also elevating them beyond the genre and into arena-conquering territory.

“Doing a song together, when nobody expected it, was so positive on every level,” Sharon says. “We still have this connection after all these years, and our friendship has only grown from that point.”

“It gave me a new friend in my life,” agrees Tarja. “It’s a song of friendship to me. I’m so happy we could bring people joy and love by working on this together.”

Within Temptation's latest album Bleed Out is out now. The band tour the UK with Tarja Turunen in support this month

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Chris D'Angelo at HuffPost:

When it comes to the public’s ability to pry documents loose from federal agencies, Donald Trump’s supporters accept nothing less than full disclosure and have spent the past few years bombarding federal agencies with requests for records. But it seems overwhelmingly likely that posture will soon change ― right around noon on Jan. 20.

Take Trump-era Interior Secretary David Bernhardt, who is now a key member of the president-elect’s transition team and is widely expected to land another powerful administration post next year. In a May 2023 episode of the America First Policy Institute’s podcast, “The Tank,” Bernhardt bemoaned that left-wing organizations he’d “never heard of” had “inundated” federal agencies with Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) requests during Trump’s first term, “to the point that it created a lot of activity in terms of slowing down the agenda.” “Frankly, I think they were very effective,” he said. “They’re highly funded by non-disclosed entities, and that’s fine. I was even surprised to find that much of their activity is tax-deductible.” “I’m not suggesting it’s illegal, but what I am suggesting is that it is incredibly one-sided,” he added. “That one-sided effort meant that their voice was often the only voice in the echo chamber surrounding policies related to the administration.” Bernhardt’s condemnation of perceived political adversaries using the 1967 law as intended to shine light on the inner functions of government is ironic. As a longtime lobbyist for oil, gas, mining and agricultural interests, Bernhardt entered the Trump administration with so many potential conflicts of interest that he had to carry around a card listing his former clients. Under his watch, the Department of the Interior repeatedly meddled with FOIA, going as far as to withhold information about Bernhardt ahead of his confirmation hearing to take over as secretary after the departure of scandal-plagued Ryan Zinke. And over the last couple of years, right-wing organizations, including the America First Policy Institute — many of them tax-exempt nonprofits and led by former Trump administration officials — have swamped the Interior Department and other federal agencies with thousands of records requests, many of them targeted at specific employees. (Bernhardt is chair of AFPI’s Center for American Freedom.)

Leading that sleuthing effort is the Heritage Foundation, an influential right-wing organization that spearheaded Project 2025, the extreme-right policy blueprint that GOP operatives compiled to guide Trump in a second term. Mike Howell, a former Trump administration official and current executive director of Heritage’s Oversight Project, told ProPublica last month that the foundation has filed more than 50,000 FOIA requests since 2022. Many of those requests target specific career civil servants and seek communications that mention a variety of “culture war” topics, including climate change action and diversity, equity and inclusion efforts. Others target internal discussions about Trump.

[...] One employee in the FOIA office of a government agency told ProPublica that the right-wing effort has jammed up the FOIA queue to the point that it has severely affected the agency’s ability to keep up with requests. And ethics watchdogs expect that the fishing expedition is part of Project 2025’s authoritarian vision of dismantling federal agencies and replacing tens of thousands of career staff — so-called rogue bureaucrats — with Trump loyalists willing to advance right-wing policies.

[...] The Trump administration has a record of doing exactly what Howell takes issue with. During Trump’s first year in office, federal agencies set a new record for censoring and withholding government documents requested through FOIA, The Associated Press reported at the time. Trump’s Interior Department changed its FOIA policy to allow for political appointees to review public information requests prior to their release and at one point proposed new regulations to grant the agency the ability to reject “burdensome” records requests and impose monthly limits for individual requesters. In a 2020 report, the Interior Department’s internal watchdog concluded that political appointees blocked the public release of documents related to Bernhardt ahead of his confirmation hearing in March 2019.

[...] Trump and his allies are pledging, yet again, to dismantle the “deep state” bureaucracy that they claim is conspiring against them. That is likely to include dismantling federal offices they deem not essential to an agency’s core function, including those working on climate change and environmental justice. What they conveniently forget is that the people in government they view as the enemy are, by and large, simply carrying out the Biden administration’s agenda.

Donald Trump’s first term was a censorious mess with FOIA requests. His 2nd term will be much worse.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Jesse Duquette

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

July 11, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

JUL 12, 2024

Yesterday, Raw Story reported that Ivan Raiklin, Trump’s self-declared “Secretary of Retribution” has compiled a “Deep State target list” of 350 people he wants to see arrested and punished for “treason” if Trump is reelected. The list includes Democratic and Republican elected officials, journalists he considers to be Trump’s enemies, U.S. Capitol Police officers, and witnesses against Trump in his impeachment trials and the hearings concerning the events of January 6, 2021.

Representative Jamie Raskin (D-MD) told Raw Story: “His hit list is a vigilante death warrant for hundreds of Americans and a clear and present danger to the survival of American democracy and freedom.” The Trump campaign did not respond to requests for comment. Raiklin said the list was just the beginning. “This is the scratching of the surface of who is going to be criminalized for their treason, okay?” 

Former president Donald Trump, the presumptive 2024 Republican presidential nominee, has tried to distance himself from the radical extremist blueprint outlined in Project 2025, spearheaded by the Heritage Foundation. Today, videos surfaced of Trump cheering the project on from the start. At a Heritage Foundation dinner in 2022, Trump, slurring his words, said: “Our country is going to hell…. This is a great group and they’re going to lay the groundwork and detail plans for exactly what our movement will do...when the American people give us a colossal mandate to save America. And that’s coming.”

On a right-wing podcast yesterday, Heritage Foundation president Kevin Roberts said that Trump’s agenda and Project 2025 have “tremendous” overlap. “There are some quibbles and differences of opinion here and there, which not only is okay, but it's actually good,” Roberts said. “I mean, we're gonna be able to sort those out once the presidential administration declares what their priorities are.” He said that Trump’s attempt to distance himself from the project was “a political tactical decision.” Media Matters uncovered a video in which Project 2025 director Paul Dans said that Trump is “very bought in with this.” 

The Heritage Foundation, the key author of Project 2025, is a sponsor of the Republican National Convention. 

Today the Heritage Foundation preemptively accused the Biden administration of cheating in the 2024 election and warned that Biden might try to hold the White House “by force.” It said that Biden and his administration could “circumvent constitutional limits and disregard the will of the voters should they demand a new president.” 

There is no indication that Biden, who has repeatedly said he will accept the election results, will try to launch a coup against the United States government. In contrast, Trump, who has refused to say he will accept the election result unless he agrees with it, has already done exactly what Heritage is trying to pin on Biden: Trump tried to stay in office against the will of the voters in 2021. 

Trump is currently under criminal indictment for that attempt, although the Supreme Court’s eye-popping July 1 decision in Trump v. U.S. declaring that a president cannot be prosecuted for crimes committed as part of a president’s “official duties” means Trump can challenge those indictments. Indeed, in the wake of that decision, Trump’s lawyers have filed a motion to vacate the jury’s conviction of Trump on 24 felony counts related to the falsification of business records in his attempt to skew the 2016 election, and to dismiss the indictment. 

While the U.S. and our allies celebrated the seventy-fifth anniversary of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), Erin Banco of Politico reported yesterday that Trump advisors have told foreign officials that Trump plans to scale back U.S. cooperation and support for NATO, including reducing the sharing of intelligence with NATO countries.

This seems likely to be related to the news that the U.S. intelligence discovered a series of Russian plots to assassinate executives from European defense companies that are supplying arms to Ukraine. Americans took that intelligence to Germany and foiled a Russian plot to kill the chief executive officer of a German arms manufacturer. 

Trump has stayed home playing golf for the past two weeks, but on Tuesday he held a rally at his Doral golf club outside of Miami, where he kept the audience waiting outside in 90-degree heat before he showed up an hour late. His 75-minute speech was, as The Guardian’s Richard Luscombe reported, “full of evidence-free claims that his 2020 election defeat was fraudulent; baseless accusations that overseas nations were sending to the US ‘most of their prisoners’; and a laughable assertion that a gathering of supporters numbering in the hundreds was really a crowd of 45,000.” He also claimed that Biden had quadrupled the price of bacon and said, “We don’t eat bacon any more.” 

Trump did not mention his vice presidential pick. For the first time since 1988, it appears the Republicans will go into their convention without knowing who that pick will be. 

Luscombe reported that the crowd “appeared mostly subdued,” yawning and playing on their phones. 

Today, the editorial board of the Los Angeles Times wrote that Trump is “the only candidate in the race who is patently unfit for office—any office—and an imminent threat to democracy.” “If the [Republicans] had any decency left,” it wrote, they would dump him. Voters, the board said, must see the election as “a referendum on our 248-year democracy, and a choice between a trustworthy public servant who upholds American values and a serial liar who wants to push the country into authoritarianism.”

Almost two weeks after calling for Biden to step out of the 2024 race for the presidency, the editorial board of the New York Times also said that Trump is unfit to lead the United States of America, and urged voters “to see the dangers of a second Trump term clearly and to reject it.”

There was continued good news today about the American economy. Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen announced that the Internal Revenue Service (IRS) had collected more than $1 billion in overdue tax bills from millionaires. That crackdown was possible thanks to the Inflation Reduction Act, which funded an initiative to pursue high-income, high-wealth individuals who have an income of more than $1 million and owe more than $250,000 to the IRS. 

Republicans have repeatedly tried to cut the funding that made this enforcement possible. 

Today’s inflation report for June showed that inflation continues to cool, falling in June for the first time since the start of the pandemic. It declined in June by –0.1%, as gas and electricity prices dropped and as rent had its smallest monthly increase since August 2021. Statistics also show that workers’ wages continue to grow more quickly than prices. 

Yesterday, the AFL-CIO executive council voted unanimously to reaffirm its support for President Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris, saying: “Unions have never wavered in our support of them because they’ve never wavered in their commitment to working people.” The Bricklayers & Allied Craftworkers Union quoted that statement and added: “BAC is proud to stand shoulder to shoulder with our brothers and sisters across the labor movement in supporting the Biden-Harris re-election campaign.”

In a press conference this evening, Biden championed the economic boom his policies created for the middle class and reminded attending journalists that “none of you thought that would happen.” 

In that press conference, held after he presided over the three-day NATO summit and thus focused on foreign affairs, Biden answered press questions directly and fully, not only on his health but also on foreign affairs. He reiterated the importance of NATO and reminded reporters that he was key to reinforcing the alliance after Trump weakened it, then went on to talk about foreign affairs more broadly. He also noted that “I’ve spent more time with Xi Jinping than any other president,” adding: “And by the way I handed in my notes.” This was a reference to the fact that in an unprecedented move, Trump infamously refused to disclose the notes from one of his conversations with Russian president Vladimir Putin.

At the same time that Biden was holding a press conference that focused on NATO and foreign affairs, Trump was meeting at Mar-a-Lago with Putin ally Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orbán. On social media this evening, Trump indicated that he is trying to conduct his own foreign policy, although the Logan Act prohibits private citizens from negotiating with foreign governments, and reiterated his support for Putin’s call for “peace” in Ukraine. Their plan calls for giving Putin the western regions of Ukraine that were central to his 2016 support for Trump; Trump’s 2016 campaign manager promised Trump would look the other way as Putin absorbed them. 

Orbán, who has openly called for Trump’s reelection, posted: “Peace mission 5.0[.] It was an honour to visit President [Trump] at Mar-a-Lago today. We discussed ways to make [peace]. The good news of the day: he’s going to solve it!”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[littlemissmanga]

Tooka Interviews

I'm sure you've all seen puppy interviews, where celebrities hawk their latest project while petting adorable puppies. Notable ones include Chris Evens, Tom Holland and Keanu Reeves

So, in an AU where Fives succeeds, Palpatine dies and everyone is happy, the clones are petitioning for their rights, right? And how best to motivate political change?

Positive public images.

Remember, under Palpatine's influence, the main sentiment among Core world residents was that clones were basically droids. So to change that, Riyo Chuchi - as the senator spearheading the push for clone rights - organizes for a tooka interview, a gimmick to get people's attention.

First up is Fives, the clone who saved the Republic. He is genuinely good on camera, a bit of an inspirational speaker but still relatable, and he's overjoyed by the tookas without letting them derail the interview.

Riyo is so pumped at how well it went, she negotiates for even more interviews.

And it makes the most sense to start with Fives' commanding officer, Captain Rex. But Rex outright refuses at first but is convinced when he's told he can be paired with another high-rank officer. Obi Wan is about to suggest Cody, but just a single look is enough for the Jedi to reconsider.

Ultimately, Fox is not happy about being voluntold to join Rex by his still mostly secret girlfriend, but her reasoning is sound and he really can't say no to Riyo anyway. Little does he know though that she may have let the whole thing slip to Thorn, who not only records it, but plays it on the holoprojector for the entire guard.

Hardcase is also alive in this AU, and he writes a very polite email to Senator Chuchi explaining why he would be a great interviewee (he really just wants to be smothered by a giant pile of tookas.