#TAX THE F—KING RICH

[socialjusticeinamerica]

Firstly I’ve never seen a public school cafeteria that nice. That’s probably a private school or a very wealthy suburb.

Not only do teachers have to buy their own supplies but most buy lunches for multiple kids per day. That’s in addition to buying them clothes, especially winter clothes. They also buy the students supplies such as notebooks and writing instruments.

You really don’t know what hardship, misery, and suffering are until you’ve worked in a poor inner-city school. Children with no winter clothes walking to school in blizzards with flip-flops, t-shirts, and shorts. Children eating nothing outside of the food served at school. Every disease known to mankind rampaging through the building continually because nobody had healthcare. Children with all sorts of birth defects that could be remedied but aren’t because there’s no money or insurance. Students living in rented attics or basements that had only a small sink for bathing and food prep, and one toilet which wasn’t even in an enclosed room. Owning only one set of clothes that had to be washed in the sink nightly with just water because there was no soap let alone detergent. Living out of a car during blizzards that dropped several feet of snow. Poverty so bad it makes a single wide trailer in a shitty southern trailer park look luxurious.

Everyone who says the poor need to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps needs a punch in the face followed by a yearlong sentence to live in a Northeastern tenement (top floot). All these Republican millionaires in Congress who say aid to the poor would only make them more depended or that they’ll only waste it on booze, cigarettes, and scratch tickets should be sentenced to life in prison.

It is heartbreaking beyond words to see the absolute despair of the impoverished children in cities and not much better for the rural poor. The richest country on earth and we have the most poverty in the first world. A UN report in the late 2010’s said we had poverty as bad or worse than the third world. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that. I lived it and I spent half my life trying to help those mired in it.

All those who look down on the poor and downtrodden in this country can go f—k themselves with a rusty railroad spike. The absolute inhumanity and black hearted callousness among the rich and the Republican millionaires they elect is beyond sinful. You can’t be a Christian and not feed children in schools.

Half this country are worse off than feudal serfs. The oligarchs and their monstrous Republican puppets and right-wing fan boys should be given the same fate as the monarchy during the French Revolution. Something has to change soon either through policy or revolution.

[shiyorin]

#This was a request on Marshmallow, but I accidentally deleted it, so well… here you go.

#Modern AU. Roboute Guilliman x F!Reader

#These follow my Modern AU setting

#Romcom in 40K, I mean, in a modern AU

#Summary: Roboute is on a long business trip, and you (totally not) miss him. And yeah, so does he.

You stare at the empty penthouse, your bare toes curling into the plush carpet as you grip your coffee mug like it’s the only thing anchoring you to reality. No clack of polished dress shoes on marble floors. No rustle of expensive suits being shrugged off broad shoulders. No deep voice murmuring about spreadsheets in the next room. Just... silence.

"Good." you announce to the empty air, your voice bouncing off the stupidly high ceilings. "Finally some peace and quiet."

You stomp to Roboute’s walk-in closet, your walk-in closet now, really, since you’d commandeered 60% of the rack space, and yank open the doors. The scent of his cologne wafts out, that stupid expensive sandalwood-and-something-else smell that makes you think of boardrooms and bad decisions.

"Ewww." you mutter, pressing your face into one of his cashmere sweaters anyway.

Three weeks. Three fucking weeks since Roboute left for his "critical business negotiations" in Geneva or Dubai or whatever tax haven rich assholes frequent these days. Three weeks of rattling around this stupidly large apartment like the last pea in a tin can.

You grab the softest sweater you can find, charcoal gray, probably costing more than your entire shoe collection, and pull it over your head. The hem hangs past your thighs, sleeves swallowing your hands whole.

"It is…" you tell the mirror, ignoring how the collar keeps slipping to reveal one shoulder. "Efficient. Not... whatever this is." You gesture vaguely at your reflection’s flushed cheeks.

The bed is next. Roboute’s stupid California king bed with its Egyptian cotton sheets and memory foam mattress that probably cost more than your old apartment. You haven’t slept in your own room since... well, since the first night he’d been gone, when the silence pressed too close and your bed suddenly felt like a child’s crib.

"Better airflow in here." you inform the tasteful abstract painting above the headboard as you flop onto the mattress. You’ve arranged your books in a precise semicircle around Roboute’s pillow, your laptop balanced on his nightstand next to three empty coffee mugs. "And the lighting’s better for reading."

Your phone buzzes on the sheets. Roboute’s name flashes on screen alongside a photo you’d secretly taken of him looking particularly constipated while reading a contract.

Roboute: How’s the apartment?

You scowl at the message. Your thumbs fly over the screen.

You: Great! So peaceful without your snoring

Roboute: I don’t snore

You: Then what’s that sound I hear every night? Oh wait, that’s the sweet song of freedom

You hit send before adding:

You: PS tell Dubai I said hi

Roboute: It’s Singapore this week

You: Whatever rich people Disneyland you’re in

A pause. Then:

Roboute: Are you wearing my clothes again?

You nearly drop your phone. You glance at the security camera in the upper corner, the little red light isn’t on, but that doesn’t mean anything with his paranoid ass.

You: No

Roboute: The Armani sweater’s missing from my tracker app

You: YOUR SWEATERS HAVE TRACKERS?!

Roboute: Only the ones you keep stealing

You: I’M NOT STEALING I’M BORROWING

Roboute: The dry cleaning bill suggests otherwise

You flip off the camera for good measure. The bastard probably has some secret feed going straight to his hotel room. Serves him right for leaving you alone with his stupidly soft sweaters and even stupider bed.

You stomp to the kitchen, the sweater slipping down one shoulder as you yank open the fridge. Roboute’s personal chef left enough meal-prepped containers to feed a small army, each labeled with dates in meticulous handwriting.

"Chicken piccata my ass." you mutter, grabbing a pint of ice cream instead. You hop onto the kitchen island, bare legs swinging as you dig into the mint chocolate chip.

The ice cream tastes like loneliness.

"Fuck that." you say aloud, scraping the carton harder. "This tastes like... victory. Single lady victory."

Your reflection in the stainless steel refrigerator nods sagely, a streak of green on your chin undermining the effect.

When the doorbell rings at 9 PM, you answer it wearing Roboute’s sweatshirt. Fulgrim stands in the hallway holding two bottles of wine, his perfect eyebrows climbing toward his hairline as he takes in your ensemble.

"Darling." he purrs, "if you wanted to model lingerie, you only had to ask."

You slam the door in his face.

"It’s not lingerie!" you shout through the wood. "It’s practical sleepwear!"

"Practical sleepwear that happens to be my brother’s clothes?"

"Go away!"

"I brought Pinot Noir!"

You yank the door back open. "Is it the expensive kind?"

Fulgrim holds up a bottle with a label that looks like it belongs in a museum. "The 1982 Château Margaux wants to be your friend."

"...Fine. But no funny business."

Two hours later find you sprawled on the living room floor, empty wine bottles rolling across the marble as you gesture wildly with a cheese knife.

"-and then he had the audacity to say my study habits were 'concerning'!" You kick Fulgrim’s loafers. "Says the man who once worked 72 hours straight on a merger!"

Fulgrim leans back against the couch, his silk shirt unbuttoned to there. "Roboute’s always been a hypocrite. Remember when he lectured me about work-life balance while hooked up to an IV drip of espresso?"

You snort, nearly inhaling your brie. "That tracks." You flop onto your back, staring up at the ceiling that suddenly seems to be spinning. "Why’s he even gone so long anyway? What’s in Singapore that’s so damn important?"

"Jealous of a city-state, darling?"

"Piss off." You throw a grape at him. "Just saying, normal business trips don’t take three weeks."

Fulgrim’s smile turns sharp. "Oh sweet summer child. You really don’t know what our family-"

The sound of shattering glass cuts him off. You both freeze as a dark figure climbs through the broken door, black ski mask glinting in the moonlight.

You blink. "Is this... are we being robbed?"

The masked man points a gun at Fulgrim. "Hand over the watches. And the girl."

Fulgrim sighs like someone brought the wrong appetizers to a dinner party. "Darling, would you mind...?"

You don’t let him finish. College years taught you two things: 1. Adrenaline beats alcohol every time, and 2. Never bring a gun to a knife fight.

You launch yourself at the intruder, wine-fueled rage propelling you forward. The man barely has time to widen his eyes before you’re on him, knee to the groin, elbow to the throat, stolen cheese knife pressed to his carotid.

Fulgrim watches in bemused admiration as you zip-tie the would-be thief using the cords from Roboute’s stupidly expensive surround sound system. When you finish, he claps slowly.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side."

You sway slightly, the wine and adrenaline making your head swim. "Just... just don’t touch the sweaters."

You wake up the next morning in Roboute’s bed, still wearing the sweatshirt now stained with red wine. The events of last night come back in pieces, the fight, the cops, Fulgrim’s increasingly hysterical laughter as you’d ranted about proper home invasion etiquette.

Your phone shows fourteen missed calls from Roboute.

Roboute: WHAT HAPPENED

Roboute: FULGRIM SENT ME A VIDEO

Roboute: WHY WAS THERE A MAN IN OUR APARTMENT

Roboute: ANSWER ME

You type back with one eye closed, your head pounding:

You: ur sweaters safe don’t worry

Roboute: I’M NOT WORRIED ABOUT THE SWEATERS

You: then y u texting

Roboute: Come to Singapore

You stare at the message, your traitorous heart leaping. Then you snort.

You: Pass

Roboute: I’ll send the jet

You: Still pass

Roboute: There’s a Michelin-starred ramen place

You hesitate.

Roboute: And a Jellycat flagship store

"Cheap shot." you mutter, even as you google flight times.

By days of Roboute’s absence, you’ve developed what you refuse to call a routine:

- Wake up in Roboute’s bed (for the superior lumbar support)

- Shower using Roboute’s fancy French soap (leaves your skin softer, purely practical)

- Dress in Roboute’s clothes (warmer than your own threadbare scrubs)

- Study surrounded by Roboute’s things (better feng shui for working)

The apartment feels different without him – quieter, yes, but also... hollow. Like a museum after hours, all the expensive art and furniture waiting for their proper owner to bring them to life.

You find yourself talking to his things like some deranged Disney princess:

"Of course he bought a Ming vase," you inform the Ming vase. "Probably uses it to contain his massive ego."

The vase doesn’t respond.

At night, you curl up in his bed surrounded by books, the sheets still faintly smelling of his cologne. Sometimes you catch yourself reaching for the other pillow, only to scowl and yank your hand back like it’s betrayed you.

"Pathetic." you tell your stuffed dragon perched on Roboute’s nightstand. "You’re pathetic."

The dragon’s beady eyes judge you silently.

When Roboute’s sixth late-night video call comes through, you answer without thinking. The screen shows him in what looks like a presidential suite, tie loosened and stubble shadowing his jaw.

"You look terrible." you say by way of greeting.

"You’re wearing my Yale hoodie."

"Fuck Yale."

A ghost of a smile touches his lips. "How’s the apartment?"

"Still standing. No thanks to your brother."

Roboute’s smile vanishes. "Fulgrim told me what happened. I’m arranging for–"

"Already handled," you interrupt. "Installed new locks. And a taser. And a police officer who checks in daily."

"You shouldn’t have to–"

"I’m fine." The words come out sharper than intended. "Stop worrying."

Silence stretches between you, the kind that usually gets filled with snarky comments or work talk. Instead, Roboute says quietly, "I miss your..."

Your heart stutters.

"...your organizational system for the fridge."

You deflate. "Right. The fridge."

"It’s chaos without you."

"The labels were in Greek alphabetical order, Roboute. That’s not a system, that’s a mental illness."

His chuckle warms something in your chest. "Perhaps. Still... it’s quieter here."

"Good."

"Not really."

The raw honesty in his voice startles you. You study the screen, the dark circles under his eyes, the way his collar hangs loose like he’s lost weight.

"You eating okay?" The question slips out before you can stop it.

Roboute makes a noncommittal noise. "Room service."

"Let me guess, grilled chicken breast, steamed vegetables, no sauce?"

"...Perhaps."

"Damn, you’re so bad." You grab your laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. "I’m emailing you a list of actual edible foods. And for God’s sake, get some sleep."

"You’re one to talk." His eyes narrow. "When did you last leave the apartment?"

"None of your business."

"The security logs say–"

"Creep!"

You glare at each other through the screen, years of unresolved tension crackling across continents. Roboute breaks first.

"Come to Singapore."

"Why?"

"Because I..." He runs a hand through his hair, the gesture uncharacteristically nervous. "...need someone to explain these charts."

You bark a laugh. "Nice try, CEO. Hire a translator."

"You–"

You hang up.

The next morning brings a package, thick cream stationery with your name scrawled in Roboute’s precise handwriting. Inside are two things: a first-class ticket to Singapore, and a photo of the Jellycat storefront with a handwritten note: They have an exclusive corgi.

"Bastard." you whisper, already reaching for your passport.

When Roboute returns unexpectedly three days early, he finds you asleep in his bed wearing his shirt, surrounded by empty coffee cups and books. The Singapore ticket lies crumpled on the nightstand next to your stuffed dragon.

He doesn’t smile. Not exactly. But the way he carefully removes his shoes before sliding into bed beside you, the gentle tug as he pulls the textbook from your limp fingers, the soft sigh as he breathes in the mingled scents of your shampoo and his cologne, that’s its own kind of confession.

You stir, mumbling into his pillow. "M’not lonely..."

"I know." Roboute murmurs, tucking the blanket around you both. "The bed’s just cooler."

"Damn right," you sigh, already drifting back to sleep.

******

Roboute stared at the Singapore skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows, his reflection in the glass showing a man who absolutely wasn't checking his phone every thirty seconds. The boardroom table behind him lay buried under merger contracts and acquisition reports, all ignored in favor of the blinking security app notification:

[Sweater Activity Alert: Armani Cashmere Blend #4 Moving Through Bedroom]

He swore under his breath. Three weeks away and you'd somehow commandeered his entire wardrobe. The app showed a little sweater icon meandering through the penthouse, kitchen to living room to his bedroom, the same path you'd traced every night since he left.

"Problem, Roboute?" Lorgar asked from the doorway, holding two tumblers of whiskey that would undoubtedly go untouched.

"Nothing." Roboute snapped, flipping his phone facedown. The damned tracker kept updating:

[10:15 PM: Sweater #4 Stationary in Master Bedroom]

He imagined you curled up in his bed wearing that particular sweater, the charcoal one you'd stretched out by using it as a study blanket. The thought made his collar feel too tight.

Lorgar smirked. "Still pretending you're not obsessed with the stray?"

"You're not a stray. She is a tenant."

"A tenant who answers your security questionnaires with 'Fuck off' in Latin?"

Roboute's eye twitched. Your response to his daily safety checks had been... creative. Yesterday's email chain played in his mind:

Roboute: Have you tested the new deadbolts? You: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Roboute: This is serious. There have been break-ins in the neighborhood. You: Send nukes. Will defend sweaters with life. Roboute: That's not funny. You: Who's joking?

He'd ordered an extra security detail that night. Not that he'd ever tell you.

The Singapore deal dragged on through midnight negotiations, Roboute's focus split between hostile takeovers and the tracker app's relentless updates:

[1:47 AM: Sweater #4 Offline]

[2:13 AM: Sweater #4 Detected in Laundry Room]

[3:02 AM: Sweater #4 Returning to Master Bedroom]

His CFO shot him increasingly concerned looks as he checked his phone during a billion-dollar valuation discussion. Let them think he was monitoring stocks. Better than the truth, that he'd developed an unhealthy fixation on a sweater's GPS coordinates.

When Fulgrim's encrypted video popped up at 3:17 AM Singapore time, Roboute answered in the bathroom.

"Brother!" Fulgrim's drunk grin filled the screen. "You'll never guess what your little cat did tonight!"

The camera panned to show you straddling a zip-tied intruder, Roboute's sweatshirt slipping off one shoulder as you waved a cheese knife like Excalibur.

Roboute's coffee cup almost shattered on the marble floor.

"-dislocated his shoulder with a spoon, Roboute! A fucking soup spoon!"

"Put her on" Roboute growled, blood roaring in his ears.

Fulgrim's laugh grated like broken glass. "Oh she’s passed out in your bed now. Such a shame you’re not here to tuck her in-"

The call ended with Roboute's fist in the wall.

Six days later, he stood in the airport lounge watching security footage on loop, your precision as you disabled the intruder, the way you'd positioned yourself between danger and Fulgrim despite being half the assailant's weight. Pride warred with panic in his chest.

His phone buzzed with your latest message:

You: your sweaters still safe don't worry

The cavalier tone made him want to scream. Or book a flight home. Or both.

"Mr. Guilliman?" His assistant hovered by the private jet stairs. "The pilot's ready when you are."

He stared at the Singapore skyline one last time, the deal he'd spent months orchestrating suddenly feeling as substantial as smoke. At least it worked and annoyed Lorgar, he'll tell you about it later. There were more important things at stake now.

Like the fact you'd somehow synced your Spotify to his Bang & Olufsen system and were currently blasting pop music through the penthouse at deafening volumes.

The flight tracker didn't lie:

[2:15 PM: Sweater #4 Airborne Over Pacific Ocean]

Roboute stared at the notification, then at the empty seat beside him. He'd specifically told the chef to pack extra tiramisu.

"Sir?" The flight attendant eyed his death grip on the armrests. "Can I get you anything?"

"A time machine." he muttered. "And a taser."

By hour nine of the flight, he'd compiled a mental list of all the ways this was a terrible idea: Abandoning critical negotiations, Letting personal feelings interfere with business. And potentially walking in on you wearing nothing but his Yale hoodie.

The last point concerned him most.

When the private elevator opened to his penthouse, the scene hit him like a tactical strike, you sprawled across his bed wearing his Sweater, books fanned around you like a halo. The security system chirped a welcome he'd never heard before.

You stirred, squinting at him through sleep-mussed hair. "M'not lonely..."

The lie hung between them, fragrant as your stolen shampoo in his ensuite. Roboute's carefully prepared speech about responsibility and safety dissolved as he took in the coffee rings on his nightstand, the Jellycat dragon judging him from your pillow fort, the Singapore ticket he'd sent now crumpled.

"I know." he said, toeing off his shoes. "The bed's just colder."

You hummed noncommittally as he slid under the covers, the scent of you, citrus and antiseptic and home, obliterating twelve hours of jetlag. When you instinctively curled against his chest, he realized three things in quick succession: You'd replaced his Egyptian cotton sheets with Sanrio flannel. The intruder's bail hearing was tomorrow at 9 AM. And he'd walk through fire before admitting how much he'd missed this.

As your breathing deepened, Roboute allowed himself his lips to your hair. The security app buzzed silently in his pocket:

[Sweater #4: Stationary in Master Bedroom]

Right where it belonged.

[gwydionmisha]

This is essential to the Republican plan to prevent rich tax cheats getting audited, and their decision to do it during tax season to delay people getting their refunds while they are also pushing tax cuts for billionaires and mega corporations is not an accident.

The more middle class people hate the IRS, the easier it is for the rich to get away with all this.

[meandmybigmouth]

Marjorie Taylor Greene Issues Midterms Warning to Republicans

Marjorie Taylor Greene Issues Midterms Warning to Republicans

CUTTING TAXES? AND EVERY F**KING SOCIAL SAFETY NET? INSTEAD OF TAXING THE RICH, PAYING DOWN THE TAXPAYER DEBT AND ALLOWING THE AMERICAN PEOPLE KEEP MORE OF THEIR MONEY AND REFUNDING THE EDUCATION SYSTEM AND AMERICAN INFRASTRUCTURE!

[catindabag]

TBOSAS AU ✨CRACK! TAKE✨: The 10th HG Mentors According to Drunk Dean Highbottom. (Part 1)

⭐️❄️⭐️

In my TBOSAS Crack!AU (Read [this] & [this] for context), Drunk!Casca Highbottom has a major problem when it comes to pronouncing people’s names right (intentionally and unintentionally). Many even accepted the fact that the Dean just gave up correcting himself after the last PTA meeting.

Moreover, most of the time, drunk Highbottom thinks that his top student, Coriolanus Snow is the 2nd coming of the ever gorgeous Crassus Xanthos Snow. And yes, Crassus was in fact Casca’s former super dead lover, drinking buddy, and karaoke pal.

In addition, the Dean hates the Plinths with a passion. However, it is not because they’re District. Casca simply hates them because according to rumors, Strabo Plinth, who was also serving in the army with Crassus Snow at that time, stole (dated) Casca’s ex boyfriend after the infamous Crasca University Breakup.

And now, Coriolanus Crassus Snow is going to marry the rich bastard Sejanus Plinth after graduation. And Casca is still swimming in DENIAL. How the odds were never in Highbottom’s favor.😭🔪

So here are our Mentors according to Drunk Delusional Dean Casca Highbottom (plus with his personal side notes and opinions about them).

Here are the other parts: [2] [3] [4]

⭐️MENTORS⭐️

Crassus Xanthos Snow (Coriolanus Snow)

I hate you, I love you, Crassus!😭🔪

You smell like roses and cabbages.

Poor AF. That’s what you get for breaking up with me!!

Is currently dating that idiot Plinth. I don’t know which one.😩😭

Obviously, you only did it for the filthy money!

Has a severe case of OCD and Paranoia.

Depressed & Obsessed AF.

War orphan who can’t pay his taxes.

Can’t even pay for therapy.

Can’t afford to buy f*ckin’ shoes.

Wears old clothes from the last century.

I want to spoil you so bad!😩

I too have money, please 🙏 marry me!

Extremely smart, but stupid.

Sucks at Physical Education.

Can and will malfunction when in a state of confusion.

Needs to pet a fluffy fat cat to avoid going batsh*t crazy.

Snow lands on top?? He’s a freaking “bottom”😏 for goodness sake.

Almost got evicted by loan sharks.

Can be easily hoodwinked into marriage.

I miss our ✨Thursday Clubbing✨!😭

Come back to me, Snow Bae!

I’m still single and waiting for you!

We’re technically still dating, right?🥺

That infamous “University Breakup” NEVER happened!!😫

CRASCA FOREVER!!

Will most likely win the Hunger Games by acting like a weak (but hot) little meow meow before poisoning everyone with Nightlock Berries.

Syllabus Plinth (Sejanus Plinth)

Ughhh!😩 Just go back to District 2 already!

You rich social climbing bastard!

Stole my gorgeous boyfriend!😡🔪

Is reckless AF.

Is wasteful AF.

Is a natural born menace to me.

The idiot heir to the largest munitions empire of Panem.

Wants to become the President of Panem for some reason?🧐

Throws bread to the dead.

No fashion sense at all.

Dr. Gaul hates him for being too nice.

His boyfriend stealing father throws money at me all the time.

Does not know what “personal space” is.

Doesn’t deserve to date my Snow Bae!

How dare you steal my boyfriend!!

I’ll crash your f*ckin’ wedding!!🤬🔪

How dare you stand where I stood!

You have daddy issues!

Peace loving?! Your family sells guns and nuclear missiles for a living!

The audacity! Give me your sandwich recipe!

Once choked my former boyfriend with gumdrops.

Will NEVER WIN the Hunger Games!!🤬🔪 I won’t allow this boyfriend stealing bastard to win anything!

Fetus Creed (Festus Creed)

A self proclaimed “Professional Dumpster Diver.”

Panem’s garbage boy.

A menace to society and the food industry.

Likes to act innocent & clueless.🙄

A natural born leader for fools.

President of the Losers Club.

King of delinquents.

Loves to steal and eat my hamburgers.

Can’t afford to buy a slice of cheesecake.

Is currently dating the cannibal.

Breaks the law everyday, all day.

Peacekeepers loathe him but can’t arrest him.

The Academy’s very own village idiot.

Your family owns the largest construction company in all of Panem, but reconstruction is still slow AF because of your very existence.

Your family members are super weird and super annoying.

Claimed to have never received the 200+ expulsion letters that I’ve personally written and sent to his parents.😫🔪

Has received at least 70+ demerits from me.

Why can’t you attend at least one f*ckin’ detention?!😡

Hangs out with cabbage boy and Plinth’s idiot heir all the time.

Needs to be expelled ASAP.

Why do you succeed and fail at the same time?!

Your ODDS are a piece of sh*t.

Will most likely win the Hunger Games through sheer DUMB LUCK.😩🔪

Listerina Listerine Vickers (Lysistrata Vickers)

Gives free hugs drugs to friends.

Does not prescribe morphling bottles for free.😭

Founder and leader of the “Snowjanus” fan club.🙄🔪

Started the “shipping” war of the century.

Very responsible, but unpredictable.

Suspicious AF.

You’re super lucky that your mommy and daddy are working under the President.

Stop using your “My parents are famous doctors” card to get out of trouble!

Biology is her forte.

Broke my expensive office aquarium on accident purpose.

Gave me weird looking vitamins as an “apology” gift.

Will stab people for medical reasons.

Knows how to manipulate the law.

Your wannabe local drug dealer doctor.

Has a neat appearance, just like her parents.

Might be the leader of an underground illegal drug company that I can’t name.

May have manufactured medicine without the President’s consent.

Is secretly a cry baby.

Hangs out with stupid garbage boys.

Girl, your so called “Miracle Pills” might be lethal and illegal.

Empathetic, I guess.

Will most likely win the Hunger Games by secretly slowly hugging drugging everyone to death.

Philip Raven’s Bill (Felix Ravinstill)

Ultimate Nepo Baby of the century.

Everyone’s favorite boy by default.

Very cool and competent.

Was given the biggest bedroom in the President’s Mansion for some reason.

President Gran Gran’s favorite grandnephew.

Is very rich, but don’t ask why.

Can win a war through the power of friendship and stupidity.

Extremely likable AF.

Must be protected at all cost.

VIP student who can’t be arrested.

Is the Class President.

If he gets hurt, we all get hurt.

I’ll be dead before you get kidnapped.

Haven’t you heard? His granduncle is the current President of Panem.

Has common sense.

Your bromantic boyfriend is a freaking kleptomaniac.

What’s with the Hello Kitty merch?!

Your family is corrupt AF.

Hates his shady & scheming relatives.

Half of your uncles are banned from entering The Academy.

Can you file a very powerful restraining order for me?🥺

Needs to work on his “begging” skills.

Might have the power to end the Hunger Games forever.

Will most likely win the Hunger Games by hiding and having a lot of sponsors to keep him alive.

Andrew Keys Under Sun (Androcles Anderson)

A wannabe reporter like his mama.

A self proclaimed “professional kleptomaniac.”

Stole my morphling bottles.😠🔪

Stole my very expensive wristwatch.

Stole my personal diary journal.

Where is my freaking wallet, Andrew Keys?!

Is straight up a criminal.

Knows how to pickpocket like a pro.

Never give him a hairpin.

I gave you an inch, you f*ckin’ ran a mile.

You’re lucky that your mama can destroy my reputation.

Stole a thousand & plus items from school.

Is maybe secretly dating the Class President.

The only reason why you haven’t been arrested by the authorities is because of your bromantic boyfriend.

Your family only got filthy rich by blackmailing powerful people.

Can break into anyone’s house without being detected.

Dammit! Why do you have natural luck?!

The odds are always in your favor!😩

Can bribe anyone with a slice of pizza.

Will most likely win the Hunger Games by literally stealing everyone’s weapons, sponsors, lovers, mothers, fathers, and of course, your life.

[rsvpepicme]

Over a week ago (December 4th, 2023) a Swiss Private Bank, BANQUE PICTET ET CIE SA, admitted that they had stored "$5.6 billion in 1,637 secret bank accounts in Switzerland and elsewhere to conceal the income generated in those accounts from the IRS" (the amount of effort rich Americans go to hoard their wealth, even if they'd still be wealthy after paying taxes, never ceases to amaze me��).

The bank has agreed to pay about $122.9 Million ( which is about 2% of the $5.6 billion they stored) back to the U.S. treasury.

I have not seen any national media report on this extremely important information but I personally agree with Mr. Sameul L. Jackson when I say that the economic gap is crazy and billionaires need to pay their f*king taxes.

Samuel L. Jackson

[rogueartistjyn]

The number of humans that don't understand JUST STOP OIL's protests are astounding to me.

Everything they do targets the 1%, yet people claim they work for an oil company that no longer exists, their protests are dumb & most complaining of their tactics have zero understanding of what ART Museums are.

How are protests dumb if you, an absolutely nobody, an average taxpaying knuckle dragger, are on every single social network posting & ranting & railing about it? I'd say the protest is working exactly as intended. You just don't understand. The papers are picking it up. It's on all the news networks & even the lowest wage earning taxpayer has an opinion about it.

Yep. Misson accomplished.

Some of you are fine with billionaire jets getting targeted, but not billionaire owned art? King Francis the I of France purchased the Mona Lisa. Directly from DaVinci. No average person ever had it in their possesion. Same with almost every single piece of art in every museum in the world. Most of it, on loan from a rich family or estate or stolen by the rich, and the taxpayer footing the bill for the housing, enviromental stability, insurance, the whole damn museum, it's staff, etc. The owners get to take millions off on their taxes for that Van Gogh they've loaned the marble museum that the peasants go to. They don't have to insure it because YOU are. Most of the art you get to see was commissioned, curated, chosen, or stolen by the 1%, kings or colonial governments.

As an artist, yes, some of it is amazing. I'm 100% in support of art museums, although I do believe the tax laws need changed & local artists should be showcased as well. Of course, if you did that, art museums would cease to exist.

Don't let the rich fool you. They don't give a shit about Van Gogh, DaVinci, Monet, O'Keefe, or any other artist. What they do care about is the $$$ having those things SAVES them. Take that away & it all would disappear over night.

So, that's why throwing soup on a Van Gogh does actually mean something. It is a message to the 1% & you. Here you are, absolutely clutching your slave wage produced clothing in fury that someone would DARE attack sacred public art that you pay to house, insure, & keep while the rich laugh all the way to the bank & continue to rape the earth for resources, that eventually will run out & you will lose all access to. You get to see art because they allow you to & they make $$$ off you seeing it. You get AC in your house because they allow you to. You use the resources their family owns. When those resources start to dwindle, do you really think you will be allowed acess them? Air Conditioning? Heating? LMAO. They're already suggesting you turn your AC to 78°F to "save" energy. Eventually, they will enforce it. You gotta turn up your AC, but they don't. They need that energy to cool/heat their mansions. Fly their private jets to your taxpayer funded Van Gogh opening at the huge Marble Museum you pay for but can't get into until tomorrow because the Van Gogh opening is limited & tickets cost $150. There's wine & cheese & delicious pastries & caviar, that YOU paid for through taxes, & they all hobknob in the climate controlled chilly 68°F cooled building as you sit in your 78°F house with a crying baby that's fussy because it is uncomfortably warm & you hope you can afford diapers & formula & rent next month.

Van Gogh's "Sunflowers" that had tomato soup thrown on it? Do you know who owns it?

Do you?

Sunflowers was bought in 1987 by the Yasuda insurance company to display in an art museum on the 42nd floor of its Tokyo headquarters. In 2002 Yasuda was incorporated into a new company named Sompo.

Go look up who owns Stonehenge. Look up the whole sordid history.

These aren't "random attacks".

They can't do ALL the work for you. You've got to do your part. Investigate. Actually see what they are showing you.

It's absolutely astounding how easily the propaganda machine turns the average taxpaying citizen against those fighting FOR them.

Getty Oil no longer exists. You can research that, too. How the heir feels a tremendous responsibility to correct past horrors committed by her ancestors. But they've convinced you ALL rich people are evil. If it looks like they are trying to help it's some deep state conspiracy, right?

It's a much easier pill to swallow that she's an evil psyop. It requires no research & 0% activism or support from you.

Astounding.

I challenge you to look up every owner of every target of JUST STOP OIL. The history of the targeted object. Then use context & comprehension to understand WHY that makes sense. It is working. It's why your reading this right now. It's why you're feeling all these strong emotions about this post. Because it IS working.

[randomclam24]

I found https://minecraftshader.com/optifine/, which redirects to https://livzmc.net/optikai/downloadx?f=preview_OptiFine_24w18a_HD_K_J3_pre1.jar

The mirror download does work, but leads to the error https://bugs.mojang.com/browse/MC-271581

"INFO WARS TO BE SHUT DOWN, I'M NEXT! GOING FORWARD YOU BETTER RETHINK WHAT YOU SAY OR PAY A PRICE!

What I had isn't that, but I'm naturally -guilt-ridden to the wordflow of liberal conscienceenlightening instructers

I'm setting a prototypeNO YOU'RE

more like this: https://bugs.mojang.com/browse/MC-271398

*get's sucked up into the void

6/15 *sad face*

It doesn't matter in real life if something is beautiful. Before the subjective prison of jews and the super rich

it's all felon

update

So like humor this

If we're told not to hate because it's our subjective kings of the earth, the tax-farm politicians, who are mid, then when we pray to God and such as the Rothschilds by proxy, we're praying to our tax gods, and this forms the origin for our musics?

Update after birfday

if for once we actually let go of the idea that mario 64 itself is a self insert

Where itself, B3313 mabandoned was not not disappointing, which through my lens is inevitable? Just thinking of its broken end as the aether of it, the thing removed, just because it's no longer self-insert primarily and then extra, as the thing itself

that such a thing would be out there just consciousnessless

6/17 after above updateFor people who just want to play Doom all day, there is Endless Frontier

[thxnews]

The Delights of Rye in East Sussex, UK

Rye is a small town in East Sussex, UK, with a population of nearly 5,000. It began as a humble fishing community before blossoming into an important seaport. The history of Rye traces back to Roman times, when it served as a vital hub for exporting iron from the Wealden iron industry to the Continent. Rye received its charter from King Edward I in 1289, gaining privileges and tax exemptions in return for providing ships for the crown. In 1350, Rye became a full member of the confederation of English Channel ports. The rich history of Rye can be explored at the Rye Heritage Centre on Strand Quay. No longer a seaport, Rye now lies two miles inland, connected to the sea by the River Rother, which winds past a nature reserve and out to the English Channel.  

Mermaid Street in Rye, East Sussex. Photo by Jez Timms. Unsplash.  

Medieval Rye: Explore Buildings Along Cobbled Streets

A Step Back in Time As you wander the narrow, ancient streets of Rye, you are immediately transported back in time to an era of old-world charm and timeless beauty. The quaint medieval buildings exude a palpable sense of history, inviting visitors to explore at their leisure. With its picturesque surroundings and stunning views across the marshes to the sea, Rye offers a peaceful retreat from the hustle and bustle of modern life.   Historical Charm The array of independent shops, cafes, and restaurants in Rye provides ample opportunities to indulge in local delights and soak up the vibrant atmosphere of this charming town. Take a leisurely stroll along the ancient city walls or visit St. Mary’s Parish Church, which has dominated the town for over 900 years, perched on the hill where the old town stands.  

Natural Beauty: Stunning Coastal Views and Nature Reserves

Rye Bay and the High Weald The coastal views and nature reserves in Rye offer a captivating blend of natural beauty and tranquility. The high ground surrounding Rye Bay is the eastern extremity of the East Sussex High Weald, composed of the much-faulted strata of the Hastings Beds: sandstone and clay beds formed over 100 million years ago. Rye Bay is characterized by the wide expanse of reclaimed coastal marshland. It is surrounded by vast expanses of shimmering blue waters, with rugged cliffs providing a dramatic backdrop to the serene landscape. Walking along the cliff paths, one can witness the raw power of the sea crashing against the rocks and experience an overwhelming sense of awe.   Rye Harbour Nature Reserve A visit to Rye Harbour Nature Reserve is highly recommended. Set in an exceptional coastal and wetland landscape, it is home to more than 4,355 species of plants and animals, including 300 that are rare or endangered. It is teeming with diverse wildlife and flourishing ecosystems. Birdwatchers flock to these reserves to catch glimpses of rare species like terns and plovers that call this area home. The marshlands are alive with activity as flocks of birds migrate through, creating a symphony of chirps and calls that resonates throughout the tranquil surroundings.  

The Mermaid Inn, Rye East Sussex was rebuilt in 1420, with cellars dating to 1156. Photo by Tony Hisgett. Flickr.  

Culinary Delights: Local Seafood, Quaint Cafes

Fresh Seafood One cannot visit the picturesque town of Rye without indulging in its abundant seafood offerings. From freshly caught fish to succulent shellfish, the local seafood in Rye is a true culinary delight that captures the essence of coastal dining. Quaint cafes dotted along the charming streets offer a unique dining experience, serving cod, plaice, Dover sole, crab, lobsters, and much more. These dishes are prepared with seasonal ingredients sourced directly from nearby waters.   Cozy Cafes The allure of Rye’s culinary scene lies not only in its fresh seafood but also in the charm of its quaint cafes. These establishments exude a cozy atmosphere and often showcase local art while serving delicious meals that highlight the region's flavors. Blending classic recipes with modern techniques, they create a memorable dining experience suitable for every palate. The fusion of fresh flavors, warm ambiance, and artistic presentations elevates dining in this seaside town to an unforgettable experience that celebrates both tradition and creativity.  

Outdoor Activities: Hiking, Biking, Water Sports

Scenic Trails Rye spoils outdoor enthusiasts for choice when it comes to activities that invigorate the body and refresh the mind. Hiking along the scenic trails offers a chance to enjoy the lush greenery of the surroundings, while biking through meandering paths allows for exhilarating exploration of the diverse terrain. Water sports enthusiasts can indulge in thrilling adventures such as kayaking or paddleboarding in the crystal-clear waters off Rye’s shores, providing not only an adrenaline rush but also a unique perspective on this picturesque coastal town.   Connection with Nature Engaging in these outdoor activities promotes physical well-being and fosters a deep connection with nature, offering a sense of tranquility often elusive in our fast-paced lives.  

Great Dixter, Rye. An old house, and garden. Photo by J R Cologne. Pixabay.  

Accommodation Options: B&Bs, Cottages, Luxury Hotels

Bed and Breakfasts When it comes to accommodation options in Rye, travelers have multiple choices. Bed and Breakfasts (B&Bs) in the area offer a charming and personalized experience, often situated in historic homes with unique décor and excellent homemade breakfast options.   Cozy Cottages For those seeking a more secluded retreat, renting a cozy cottage can provide privacy and a sense of serenity amidst Rye’s picturesque countryside.   Luxury Hotels Luxury hotels in Rye cater to guests looking for top-notch amenities, impeccable service, and exquisite dining experiences. These establishments boast elegant décor, spa facilities, and concierge services to ensure a lavish stay. Visitors can curate their accommodations based on their preferences – whether an intimate B&B getaway or indulging in the opulence of a luxury hotel experience.  

Aerial view of Rye town, East Sussex. Photo by Gabriel Mihalcea. Unsplash.  

Closing Thoughts

Rye in East Sussex is a hidden gem for holidaymakers seeking a charming and picturesque destination off the beaten path. This small, English medieval town offers a unique blend of history, culture, and natural beauty that will captivate visitors from all walks of life. The cobbled streets lined with historic buildings whisper tales of centuries past, inviting exploration and discovery at every turn. One of the highlights of a holiday in Rye is the breathtaking views from St. Mary’s Church tower, where visitors can admire panoramic vistas of the surrounding countryside and coastline. The quaint shops and art galleries scattered throughout the town provide ample opportunities to indulge in local crafts and delicacies, making it a shopping haven for those looking to bring home authentic souvenirs. Whether strolling along the ancient city walls or dining in one of Rye’s award-winning restaurants, there is no shortage of experiences to savor in this enchanting corner of East Sussex.   Sources: THX News, Wikipedia, Britannica, British Geological Survey & Discover Sussex. Read the full article

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day.

Welcome to Too Much Information Tuesday.

More iPhones are sold every day than people are born.

80% of all serious or fatal car crashes are caused by men.

American women’s confidence in their bodies peaks at age 74.

25% of Britons do less than 30 minutes of physical activity a week.

The expiration date on water bottles is for the bottle not the water.

In some species of spider, females are 125 times heavier than males.

Jellyfish can learn from experience, even though they don’t have a brain.

92% of people type things into Google to see if they spelled them correctly.

The middle finger originated in Ancient Greece as a symbol for anal intercourse.

Due to geographical differences in gravity, you weigh more in Illinois than Indiana.

Drinking moderate amounts of alcohol before writing can actually enhance your creativity.

Roughly six billion people on Earth own a phone but only 4.5 billion have access to a working toilet.

A fruitcake from Scott’s Antarctic expedition of 1911 was found in 2017 in ‘almost’ edible condition.

Earlier this year, a Harvard researcher of dishonesty was put on leave due to allegations of fraud in her work.

98% of Europeans live in areas where the air is more polluted than the World Health Organization believes is safe.

In ‘The Lion King’, Mufasa's roar when he saves Simba and Nala from the hyenas is a combination of a grizzly, a tiger and an F-16.

It's actually a myth that camels store water in their humps. Instead, camels use their humps to store energy-rich fat deposits.

Only a third of the borders in sub-Saharan Africa have been officially ‘delimited’ - where both countries agree on exactly where they are.

In 1995, a drunk Boris Yeltsin was found outside the White House wearing only his underpants and trying to hail a taxi so he could get pizza.

In 1920, Clarence Blethen retired hurt from a baseball match after biting himself on the bottom with the false teeth he kept in his back pocket.

The animal with the largest penis for its size (the barnacle) lives on the face of the animal with the largest penis in absolute terms (the blue whale).

Due to other countries registering there for tax reasons, Panama has the largest shipping fleet in the world, greater than China’s and the USA’s combined.

Former US Supreme Court justice David Souter had to move house because his previous home wasn’t structurally sound enough to support all his books.

In 1980, the FBI formed a fake company and attempted to bribe members of congress. Nearly 25% of those tested accepted the bribe and were convicted.

In 2022, the average speed of a car in central London was around 9 miles per hour. In 1908, the average speed of a horse-drawn carriage was around 10 miles per hour.

The Popsicle was invented in 1905 by an 11-year-old boy named Frank Epperson, who inadvertently left a glass of soda water with a stirring stick outside overnight in freezing weather.

‘Misdirected amplexus’ (good name for a band) is the term for male frogs gripping onto and trying to mate with inappropriate partners: a frog from another species, an inanimate object, a fish.

Every day from 1899 until 1918, the Paris edition of the New York Herald published the same letter from ‘Old Philadelphia Lady’ living in Paris who asked how to convert Fahrenheit to Celsius and back. In total, the letter was published 6,718 times.

In 2016, a Somalian suicide bomber brought explosives onto Daallo Airlines Flight 159. Twenty minutes after take-off, the explosives successfully detonated and blasted a hole in the side of the plane. The bomber was instantly sucked out and was the only fatality.

Every morning, Napoleon would stand naked and pour a bottle of eau de cologne over his head and then rub his chest and hands with a rough brush. His back and shoulders were rubbed by a valet, and if the rubbing wasn’t vigorous enough, Napoleon would shout ‘Stronger, like an ass!’

Centralia, Pennsylvania, a former coal mining town, has been burning for almost 60 years. In 1962, the town council decided to burn a landfill, unaware it connected to underground mine shafts. This ignited a coal seam, which continued to burn. Pennsylvania gave up after spending $7 million trying to put out the fire in the 1990s. Despite the dangers, a few residents still live there. With coal supplies under the town, the fire could burn for another 250 years.

Okay, that’s enough information for one day. Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday! I love you all.

[socialjusticeinamerica]

Resistance is never futile!

[poisonedsequin]

How people perceive themselves is nothing that interests me. There are very few that are gonna look in the mirror and say: The person I see is a savage monster. Instead, they make up some construction that justifies what they do. And there it is. You're rich, so you're a philanthropist, so you can cure your conscience for not paying enough in tax. Not contributing enough to society. And I recall, I was seven years old walking into the kitchen to find my mother crying inconsolably. Martin Luther King had been shot. Two months later, she was crying again. Bobby Kennedy was killed. I couldn't know then what I know now, that the invisible thread connecting Martin Luther King, the Kennedy brothers, and Malcolm X, was that in each case, my government had their finger on the trigger. My government murdered Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Bobby Kennedy and John F. Kennedy. My government overthrew good, honest, democratic leaders of the people in Chile, Venezuela, Argentina, Peru, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Panama and Bolivia. Along with Britain, we carved up the Middle East, creating artificial geological boundaries and installing puppet dictators. War itself became our most lucrative industry. Every bomb that is dropped makes somebody millions of dollars. You don't have to know where those bombs are exploding. You don't have to see the grieving mothers and the mangled bodies of their children. Eugene Debs gave this speech in Canton Ohio, in 1918: "Throughout history, wars have been waged for conquest and plunder. The master class has always declared wars. The subject class has always fought. They've taught you to believe it to be your patriotic duty to go to war and to have yourselves slaughtered at their command. - Triangle of Sadness. (2022) dir. Ruben Östlund

[music-of-dragons]

"Contrary to the other answers here, Dany’s not a great ruler. She’s impulsive, inept and, though well-intentioned, has a self-righteous streak a mile wide. It’s not misogynist to point out her actions leave Astapor a hell-scape, that she uses forced labour without pay in Mereen (there’s a word to describe that, it starts with S), and that she is frequently too quick to use violence to solve problems, especially as of the end of Book 5, where she outright decides to say ‘F peace!’ and starts burning shit."

● Wrong. Daenerys has a council made up of both rich and poor whom she always takes into account when making a decision. This is a girl who let a man spit on her in court and merely had him removed from the temple. A boy lunged at her to attack her and again, only had him removed. She plants trees and beans, has irrigation canals built, and she DOES pay her men to work until the gold runs dry, she then pays them with food and shelter. They have a choice, it is not slavery, and her freedmen STILL love her despite the hardship as seen in Tyrion's Winds chapter. They are crying out for her to come back and smash the slavers once again. She trapped herself in an unhappy marriage and locked up her dragons in the name of peace. She learned her lesson from Astapor, that's the entire reason she stays in Meeren, it's not like she kept on doing the same thing after, she refuses, and Astapor haunts her throughout her chapters. Nowhere in book 5 does Dany start burning stuff down because "eff peace" NOWHERE. I read her chapters all the time, that is false.

"Dany had red flags(and she had plenty)? Book! Dany is worse. She has no qualms whatsoever with slaves being rounded up en masse because it’s Drogo doing it with the intent of earning her Westeros. She’s willing to let starving slaves sell themselves back into slavery as long as she gets a cut from the earnings."

● This is just blatantly false. Unlike the show, the reason Drogo's Khalasar attacked the Lhazareen was because ANOTHER KHAL was attacking them first. Drogo surprise attacked him to gain more respect in his Khalasar and steal his victory, as Dothraki Khals do. The moment Dany realized all of the terrible things happening she tried to convince herself to ignore it for all of 30 seconds before putting a stop to it. Her power was dependent on Drogo, she was nothing to the Khalasar without him, so she had to work within his power to protect the women she saved. Also, the slaves of Meereen were not starving, Meereen had freshly fallen and the slaves who wanted to sell themselves back into slavery were "gently born" bed slaves, scribes, and teachers, who saw a better life that way. She freed them to give them choice, she was not going to force them to remain in Meereen knowing that war was coming. Also, it was Missandei, a former slave, who suggested taxing the slavery to deincentivize it and Daenerys put that right back into Meereen's economy. She never pockets any gold, her goal in Meereen is rebuilding.

"She has a wineseller’s daughters tortured before the man’s eyes because someone murdered two of her Unsullied in his wine shop: nothing ever comes out of it. Oh, and she’s doing it because one of her favorite slaves is murdered… on the other side of the city. She’s willing to impress the slaves she supposedly liberated into working for food and water in her public works projects, and somehow not see that literally is slavery."

● Daenerys approved the use of torture *once* in the series because 2 of her Unsullied her killed brutally and there had been many more murders before that with no leads. I don't know about this "favorite slave" you are referring to. Torture falls within the accepted values of society in ASOIAF; Crow cages for villages (Catelyn wanted Theon in one), Ice Cells for the Night's Watch (also Qhorin Halfhand tortured a wildling to death), Sky Cells and an abusive inkeep for The Vale, the Black Cells and torturers for King's Landing, I could go on. Stannis tortures Theon and lets people be burned alive, The Manderlys have a torturer named Garth, the Faith utilize torture for information, even King Jaehaerys the Conciliator used torture to get information. And above all of what I just listed, Daenerys is the first and only leader in the books to openly condemn and ban the use of torture afterward. She recognizes that it is useless and cruel. Again, she paid the freedmen wages until she was besieged and the gold ran out, she pays them with what she has. She DOES NOT force anyone to work, you're using the exact argument that Xaro, an unrepentant slaver who compared slavery to rain, tried to use to convince Dany to allow slavery again. I think you're missing the point. Her freedmen still love her and want her to rule despite the hardship, NO ONE is calling Dany a slaver in the books, not even the people who hate her. They all hate her because she is a liberator.

"Hell, her whole ‘kill a city of innocents’ schtick? She’s already done that in the books.

When ordering her brand new Unsullied to sack Astapor, she ordered them:

“Slay the Good Masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who wears a tokar or holds a whip, but harm no child under twelve, and strike the chains off every slave you see.”

A tokar is a clothing that in Astapor is uniquely worn only by the freeborn. You claim show! Daenerys went batshit: her book counterpart effectively ordered an army to kill every man in a city that wasn’t a slave or wasn’t dirt poor or a hard laborer, irrespective of whether they actually owned slaves, including children above the age of twelve, and those under that age unlucky enough to look a bit old for their age."

● A tokar can ONLY be worn by slavers. Know why? Because it takes your hands to hold it in place. Only people who do not use their hands because they have slaves to do everything for them can wear it. It is the symbol of a slaver. Also, "harm no child under 12" DOES NOT mean "kill everyone over 12". In her society, a boy is considered a man at 14, they begin training with sword and shield long before that. The youngest commander of the Night's Watch was 10 years old, the same age Barristan Selmy was when he entered his first tourney. Doubtless, young boys would try to fight the Unsullied, but she didn't want them harmed so she gave a rough age of accountability on the spot. The Unsullied do not fill in gaps in orders, which is the exact reason Jorah urged her to buy them, they will only do what is explicitly ordered. I feel like people intentionally misread this to villainize Dany even though the entire reason she wanted to free the Unsullied was to save children from torture. She is constantly contemplating her want and love for children, you have to think about these scenes in the context of her character. Dany would never want children to be slaughtered. However, I think the most important thing to acknowledge when it comes to Astapor was that Dany learned her lesson and decided to take the next city without laying a hand on them, then stayed to rule in Meereen to stabilize it.

There is no meticulously built up madness arc, at all. The point of George's key 5 are that they are the underdogs of society who defy the expectations of their world at every turn, and even though some are hated, they will be the ones to rise up and save the world from the Long Night. George is not pessimistic, he's not centrist, and he certainly believes in righteous war and violence. At its heart, ASOIAF is still a fantasy series, George just doesn't brush over the hardships and ugly truths like most fantasy novels do. Most of your evidence is easily disproven by the text, I'll whip out book quotes if you want me to.

And then they didn't respond 🤷🏻‍♀️

[writeforfandoms]

Merry Go Round of Life 15

Find my masterlist

And here we are, the character I’ve been wanting to introduce for literally WEEKS. I’ve known who would fill this role since before I actually started writing this. Yes, I did in fact have too much fun with this chapter. 

Word Count: 1.1k

This one will be Din Djarin x f!reader eventually. Don’t hold your breath folks, this one’s a slow burn. Sort of.

Warnings: Some swearing, discussions of politics very briefly, discussion of war, King doing King stuff.

You took a minute to look around the throne room. It was pretty bare, apart from the dais and the throne. One wall had multiple large windows, allowing natural light in. The child in your arms cooed, also looking around. 

"It is rather grand," you agreed, voice hushed. "In a severe kind of way. I had no idea it would look like this." 

"And what did you expect?" 

You jumped, badly startled, and turned to look at the man behind you. His skin was brown, and you could see scars across his face. He was bald, and his eyebrows were drawn in a slight frown. 

"I'm not certain," you answered after a moment, when your heart had given up trying to jump out of your chest. "Something… brighter, I suppose. More wealthy, perhaps." 

"So you think the tax money should be used for useless baubles and ornamentation?" One eyebrow arced up his forehead. 

"I did not say that," you protested, shaking your head a little. "You asked what I expected, not what I approved of." 

His chuckle was low and rich, and surprising. "So I did," he agreed. He stepped away from you, opening a door to a closet, it looked like. He pulled out two chairs, offering one to you. "Sit, please." 

You sat, settling the child in your lap. "The king won't mind?"

The man paused and then chuckled again. "I am the king," he told you, clearly amused. "Boba Fett." 

You blinked at him and gave him your name. "Should I…?" You shifted the child and started to rise. 

He waved you back to sitting. "Unnecessary," he grunted. "Relax. Cody mentioned you came here on wizard business." 

You nodded. "Yes, er, Wizard Djarin sent me to… relay his orders?" You shrugged. "I admit I'm not entirely clear what I'm really doing here." 

The king stared at you. You stared back. This continued for several rather awkward moments. 

"You must be the witch from Kamino," he said at length. "I've heard about you." 

"You have?" You blinked at him, surprised. "I thought that was just in Kamino." 

He shook his head a little as he sat. "Word travels fast," he said. "I was surprised to hear that Djarin was letting anyone else help with his shop, however. He is notoriously stubborn."

You snorted. You couldn't help it. "Yes, that is one way of putting it," you agreed. "So, I suppose I’ll just pass on a message to Djarin for you?” 

The king was quiet, looking at you and the child. Then he leaned back in his seat, apparently deciding something. 

"Normally, I would demand Djarin come himself," he said, speaking slowly and deliberately. "Being king has a few perks. But he trusts you." 

You blinked at him, caught thoroughly off guard by that. Sure, you figured Djarin sort of trusted you, but for someone to say it so plainly?

The king chuckled. "He trusts you with his child and his shop," he pointed out with no small amount of amusement. "He trusts you." 

"Oh. I suppose so." You blinked down at the child, who blinked back. 

"So I will pass along his instructions to you," the king continued. "Djarin is to bring back Viszla to me, and then report for a council. I'll contact him when it's time for the council to convene." 

"Pardon me, but council for what?" You really couldn't help but ask. 

The king looked at you for a few long moments. From somewhere behind you, you heard a snort. You jumped, startled, and craned around to look. 

A woman was standing several feet behind you, wearing black with orange accents. She had on light armor, with a long weapon slung over her shoulder. She sauntered over to stand behind the king. 

"The council is in case of war," the king said slowly. "The jetii are growing bolder."

"The guard who brought me in mentioned that word. What does it mean?" 

The both of them stared at you, and finally the woman snorted. "Where did you grow up?"

"Kalevala." 

"I need to get over there more often," the king muttered. "Fennec, remind me later." 

The woman nodded, settling one hip against the back of his chair. 

"The jetii are growing ever bolder. They are the nation to the west of us," the king said, shaking his head a little. "We've been at war with them for decades." 

You thought about asking more questions, but honestly… You were pretty sure you would be pushing your luck. So you simply nodded and resolved to ask more of Djarin when you saw him next. 

"I'll be sure to pass along the message," you agreed. 

The king nodded, and something about his expression caught your attention. You tipped your head a little, studying him. You recognized him from somewhere. You definitely knew him from somewhere, but where? 

"Fennec, will you show our guest out?" 

Fennec, the woman, nodded and started towards you. "Want me to take the child for you?" 

"It's okay, he's not heavy." You looked the king over again, trying to figure out where you'd seen him before. Or who he reminded you of. 

"Was there something else?" The king raised one eyebrow, more or less patient. 

"Oh!" Your eyes went wide as you realized. "Do you have brothers?" 

The king stopped. And then sighed, loudly. Fennec started to laugh. 

"Yes," the king grunted. "Of a sort. Far too many of them." 

"I think I met one, in Kamino," you said, a little tentatively. Fennec only laughed harder. 

"You've met more than one," the king growled with absolutely no explanation. He stood and waved a hand. "Tell Djarin." And with that, he swept out of the room. 

You blinked down at the child. Huh. Weird. But you stood, and Fennec walked with you back down the veritable maze of corridors. 

"You'll be fine on your own?" She asked as the two of you approached the huge doors. 

"I'll be fine," you agreed. "Thank you for walking me out." 

Fennec chuckled. "Not a problem. Take care." She stopped and nodded to a guard, who offered you his arm. 

"Take your time, ma'am," the guard assured you. 

"Cody?" You guessed, recalling the name the king had mentioned. 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Thank you." You smiled as you took his arm, making your way slowly down the stairs. 

"If you need to get up here again, ask for one of us," he told you as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "We'll help." 

"Thank you very much. You take care." You patted his arm and started off on your own again. You had a wizard to report back to.

--

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[meandmybigmouth]

THE RICH, CORPORATE AND PANDERING GOP ALL COLLECTIVELY DEMONIZE HELPING THOSE IN NEED!. AS THE RICH RECEIVE SOCIALISM DISGUISED AS A MISLABLED TAX BREAK!, CORPORATIONS REVIEVE WELFARE DISGUISED AS MISLABLED SUBSIDY'S!. CALL IT WHAT IT F**KING AIN'T!.

[catindabag]

TBOSAS AU ✨CRACK! TAKE✨: The 10th HG Mentors According to Drunk Dean Highbottom. (Part 2)

⭐️❄️⭐️

I advise you, my fellow friends to read part one for context, but here are all the parts anyway: [1] [3] [4]

⭐️MENTORS⭐️

Clam Asia Dove Goat (Clemensia Dovecote)

Very kind, but sometimes rude to me.☹️

Takes note on everything and everyone.

Is the true popular likable girl.

Might be allergic to reptiles and peanut butter.

Is deathly afraid of frogs and spiders.

Hates the snakey snakeys.

Once stole Dr. Gaul’s pet rabbit mutt for “research” purposes.

Gave me free peppermint ice cream for my birthday.🥹

Your family is the only normal and decent family that I have met so far.

Can you ask your father to lower my electricity bills?🥺

Humble, but will punch you if threatened.

Who lied and told you that your skincare routine was superior to mine?

My skincare routine is THE BEST!😤

Will forgive anyone for a cheese tart.

Directly reports to Capitol News if something “bad” happened at school.

Tried to defame me for treating a certain student “unfairly,” just because they were poor AF.🙄

Might give her a demerit for that stunt later.

Threatened to report me for being drunk while giving a lecture, or whatever that mean.😪

Will most likely win the Hunger Games by actually planning a good strategy.

Per Symphony Prize (Persephone Price)

Willingly ate that “maid stew.”

Is maybe a secret cannibal.

Is on her “Unhinged Girl” era.

Might eat anyone anything if hungry.

Has no food preference.

Is currently dating the Dumpster Diver.

Why are you even dating that loser?🤨

Likes to scare people on the holidays.

Your father is crazy AF.

By the way, your meat(?) pies were delicious. 10 out of 10, will want to eat again.

Your family runs the railroad industry, but your food delivery services are slow AF.

I might give you a demerit for that stupid reason alone.

Is passive-aggressive towards me.☹️

Is quite skilled with a knife.

Home economics and cooking are not your forte.

Likes to troll the freshmen.

The only student who will survive a famine.

Will most likely win the Hunger Games by unspeakable means.🤢

Turban Can Bill (Urban Canville)

Is highly intelligent, but socially stupid.

Perfected freaking calculus for goodness sake!

King of the math freaks.

A super nerd of nerds.

You still failed to avoid hanging out with a bunch of idiots in your class.

Your family only got filthy rich by successfully hacking one of Mama Cardew’s bank accounts.

I know that you intentionally broke my very expensive vase last semester, just because I gave you a 98 on a stupid essay.

You need therapy!

Knows how to professionally hack the school computers.

Stop changing your stupid classmates’ grades!!😡🔪

I knew that you were the one who freaking blocked me from accessing the school Wi-Fi as a joke.

I might use you for a secret cyber crime scheme later.

Thinks he’s too cool for school.

Has a short temper. Like, really short.

I can’t believe that your anger issues helped you become a top performing student.😩

Why the heck did you call the National Security when you lost your f*ckin’ calculator?!

Will most likely win the Hunger Games by being too pissed off and too angry to die.

Liver Cardew? Libya Adieu? (Livia Cardew)

Her mama will kill you for a dollar.

Super rich AF.🙄

Haven’t you heard? Her mama runs the largest bank in all of Panem.

Your family is literally the IRS.

Can destroy the economy if you offend her.

Loves anything pink and sparkly.

Is very mean to everyone, especially to me.

It’s really unfair that your car sparkles under the sun.

Why are you bullying a certain student for being a war orphan?!😠

I’m the only one who is allowed to bully that war orphan!!😤

Willing to skip school to shop and gossip.

Cannot and will not be blackmailed.

Spoiled AF, but everyone already knows that.🙄💅

Politically untouchable.

Stop taxing me for being drunk all the time!

I know your family can and will personally send anyone to the poorer Districts for unpaid taxes.

Will assassinate anyone if they wear the same dress as her at the same event.

Yes, I know. Your scary mama will burn Panem to the ground if you were ever reaped as a Tribute for the Hunger Games.

I Owe Casper (Io Jasper)

Super smart, but painfully awkward.

Likes biology and chemistry a lot.

May unlock the secrets of love and the universe.

You almost shut down my school by “accidentally” flooding the hallways with freaking chlorine!!

Stole my dog and dyed it f*ckin’ lime green for some reason.😠🔪

Another certified nerd of danger.

You should consider dating Mr. Anger Issues.

Your family only got rich when they discovered the method of levitating jets and hovercrafts.

Your mommy is an unhinged scientist who works under an insane woman!

Will dissect anyone if given the chance.

May have created a mutt on accident.

You do know that Dr. Gaul hates you for stealing her cute feral squirrel mutt last semester.

Can sneak and kill anyone with a scalpel.

You are an insufferable know-it-all.

High IQ, low EQ.

Will most likely win the Hunger Games by polluting the Arena with deadly chemicals.

Florist Friend? Flower Friend? (Florus Friend)

Your name makes sense because your parents are the friendliest landscape designers that I’ve ever met.

Does not like outdoor activities for some reason.

Stole bleach for hair reasons.

Wants to become a lawyer, but does not even follow my rules.😩

Is secretly a proud delinquent.

Locked me once in a broom closet!😡

Might break the law for a free gallon of hair conditioner.

Why are you only friendly to kittens baby cats?

Loves to change and dye his hair to match the trends of the season.

Hates rainy days and gloomy nights.

Your parents must be so disappointed when you told them that you hate gardening.

You do know your family only became rich by being the largest landscaping company in all of Panem.

Almost died from eating a moldy cheesy roll. To be fair, it was your fault.

By the way, your mama wants me to pay for your ambulance fee.☹️

Is sadly allergic to dogs.

Is deathly afraid of eating expired food after that last incident.

Will NEVER win the Hunger Games. How could he? This kid is freaking allergic to rain!