#but i am not confident there will even be an election in four years' time

[fiona-fififi]

...

[autumnslance]

I really appreciate Gulool Ja Ja as a ruler, a father, and a hero in his own right. There were concerns about why the Scions, as outsiders, would be participating in a contest of succession, and everything we learn about Gulool Ja Ja's younger years, and his reasons for the Rite of Succession, neatly addresses that.

As a much younger man, Dad^2 traveled the lands of Tural with his own diverse group of comrades, from all races and walks of life. From Kettenramm as the foreigner, to Cahciua the long-lived Shetona wilderness expert, to Pelupelu and Yok Huy, to Hanu and Xbraal; especially given the animosity between some of those clans at that time.

And along the way, Gulool Ja Ja learned how much stronger they were together. Alone he is a formidable champion, but even Blessed Siblings can't do it all. He also learned about the diverse peoples and cultures of his homeland. It's not so far off from the Warrior of Light's journey; traveling with competent heroic companions as we adventured through the 3 Continents and lands beyond them for so long, loving people and places we found along the way.

But Gulool Ja Ja also became Dawnservant, and now as his years catch up to him, a new ruler must be found. And it's in the conversation after dueling the WoL that he bluntly states his reasoning, speaking to them as a peer:

Even this early in the contest, you must have realized…As potential rulers, all four claimants are lacking. This is why I elected to hold the rite of succession─not to choose a fitting candidate, but to cultivate one. And if no one has impressed me by the end of it, then to no one will I yield my throne. As a parent, I pray that my children rise to the occasion…With outsiders dragged into my game, I am also hopeful that the different perspectives you and your companions have to offer will inspire them to grow. I imagine you in particular have traveled many lands. Known many peoples and cultures─loved them and been loved in turn. Guide Lamaty'i as you think best. Walk at her side and, when needed, push her to walk ahead. Watch over her, champion. Koana's recruits are no less sharp─as one might expect of Galuf's countrymen. They saw the flaws in our claimants from the outset. The other two, though… They dismiss comrades willing to point out their shortcomings, and no good can come of it…

Emphasis mine.

We see this too, in the interludes to Team Second Promise, as Thancred and Urianger turn on their own Dad Skills and gently guide Koana toward his own realization: that innovation is all well and good, but so is taking into account the traditions and needs of his people. As he watches his sister's growth, and how the people love and trust her to respect their ways of life, to help them because it's the right thing to do.

And Wuk Lamat learns and grows, gaining confidence, learning when to rely on her comrades, how and when to face a challenge on her own. The Wuk Lamat after level 96 is a different woman than the girl we met in Sharlayan. She's not done growing and learning, not in so short a time, but the cultivation Gulool Ja Ja put in place succeeds in her and Koana--because they are willing to learn, and listen, and love.

The other two claimants, as Dad^2 noted, don't understand the reasons for the Rite, for the methods the electors choose, or what the Dawnservant is looking for. And they refuse to entertain perspectives that would attempt to point that out, surrounded by sycophants and cronies.

Bakool Ja Ja doesn't learn the same lessons, though he comes around; he was never shown kindness and understanding, never asked what HE wanted, until Wuk Lamat demands he say it out loud. His growth is a surprising one, and along a trajectory he could never have imagined.

And Zarool Ja...his arc is a negative one, and a tragedy of his own making. He works as an antagonist because his fall is entirely avoidable, but utterly inevitable. It didn't have to be this way, yet there's no other way it could go. He internalized all the pressure and potential, all the comparisons, until it ate him alive.

This is a story about the complicated politics and demands of leading countries, of there being no easy answer to peace even when you wish there was. But it's more a story about family, and legacy, and honoring the past while striving to build a better future.

The Warrior of Light sees their own story reflected in Gulool Ja Ja's history, and in the shaping of Wuk Lamat. To fulfill their love of adventure and exploration, but from a new perspective. And taking all that experience and skill and applying it in a slightly different way, though perhaps not so different from some previous side and job quests where we help others and introduce them to friends so they can continue to grow and help themselves after WoL's moved on.

Hydaelyn's brave little spark has long been a beacon of hope for others to follow. As inheritor to the Shepherd of the Stars, the WoL takes steps toward shaping their legacy, still an active participant, but also seeing how those other stars might shine, and like Gulool Ja Ja, finding that some of those stars need a nudge to find their own glowing potential.

[mariacallous]

Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban, the only EU leader to openly back Donald Trump in his bid to reclaim the White House, was unsurprisingly among the first to congratulate the former president on Wednesday morning, even before the final results were in and rival Kamala Harris had conceded.

“The biggest comeback in US political history! Congratulations to President @realDonaldTrump on his enormous win. A much needed victory for the World!” Orban rejoiced on X (formerly Twitter).

Orban, who will be hosting European leaders in Budapest later this week, was swiftly joined by other illiberal leaders and fellow populists in Central and Southeast Europe, likewise unable to contain their glee at the return of Trump, who by midmorning Europe time had gained 266 electoral votes — just four shy from the 270 he needs to be elected the 47th US president.

Another close ally of Trump in Central Europe, Polish President Andrzej Duda, who met the former president in New York earlier this year, posted excitedly, complete with emojis: “Congratulations, Mr. President @realDonaldTrump! You made it happen! 👏👏👏🇵🇱🤝🇺🇸”.

In the Czech Republic, the former prime minister and Trump admirer Andrej Babis posted on X: “Sensational comeback @realDonaldTrump! He wasn’t stopped by an assassination attempt, nor by politically motivated lawsuits, nor by a systematic smear campaign in the media. American citizens have made it clear who they want as US President. I am confident that his victory will bring prosperity to the United States and peace to the world.”

More subdued comments came from Prime Minister Petr Fiala, who Babis is looking to oust in 2025, also on X: “Congratulations to Donald Trump on winning the presidential election. Our shared goal is to ensure that the relations between our countries remain at the highest level, despite changes in administration, and that we continue to develop them for the benefit of our citizens.”

Populist Slovak prime minister, Robert Fico, is currently on a state visit to China, though his ally, President Peter Pellegrini, offered his congratulations to Donald Trump on X. “I wish you and the American people all the success. Slovakia remains to be a strong and reliable Ally on NATO’s tested Eastern Flank living up to our shared commitments. I sincerely wish for a continuation of our good cooperation. Let’s make the transatlantic bond great again.”

Serbian President Aleksandar Vucic, who visited the White House during Trump’s first term in office that ended in 2020, welcomed Trump’s win on X. “Congratulations to Donald Trump on his victory. Together we face the serious challenges ahead. Serbia is committed to cooperation with the USA on stability, prosperity and peace,” Vucic wrote.

Turkey’s strongman leader, President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, said he wanted to congratulate his “great friend” Trump on his victory.

“In this new period that will begin with the election of the American people, I hope that Turkey-US relations will strengthen, that regional and global crises and wars, especially the Palestinian issue and the Russia-Ukraine war, will come to an end; I believe that more efforts will be made for a more just world,” Erdogan wrote on X.

The first to hail Trump’s win from Bosnia and Herzegovina was, unsurprisingly, the president of the Serb-dominated Republika Srpska entity, Milorad Dodik. “One of [the] most important electoral wins in recent history of the USA but the World as well! Congratulations, Donald Trump, 47th President of the United States of America!” Dodik wrote on his official X profile.

Late last year Dodik said that a victory for Trump would mean a “better geopolitical situation for Republika Srpska”, claiming that he regretted not declaring his entity’s independence from Bosnia and Herzegovina during Trump’s 2016-2020 presidency.

North Macedonia’s conservative prime minister, Hristijan Mickoski, sent his “heartfelt congratulations” to Trump on Wednesday morning. “This victory is a confirmation of the deep faith of the American people in the principles of freedom and democracy,” Mickoski, whose conservative, right-wing government came to power earlier this year, wrote on Facebook.

Mickoski and his cabinet are not among European leaders who fear a second Trump term could wreak havoc with transatlantic and international relations. His ruling VMRO-DPMNE party nurtures close ties with one of the biggest Trump endorsers on the continent, Hungary’s Orban, and over the summer Mickoski’s series of meetings with close Trump associates made his preference even more obvious.

“We look forward to further deepening our strong partnership and cooperation,” Mickoski added.

Warm words from the Balkans

The president of Montenegro, Jakov Milatovic, congratulated Trump on his victory. “Montenegro and the USA are friends and steadfast partners, united by shared goals and values, focused on advancing democracy, security, stability, and freedom. As NATO allies, we look forward to working very closely with Your administration on strengthening our friendship and deepening cooperation,” Milatovic wrote on X.

Montenegro’s first congratulatory message came earlier from the president of the parliament and leader of the pro-Serbian NOVA party Andrija Mandic. “I am sure that together we will build bridges of cooperation and preserve peace and stability in the Western Balkans,” Mandic wrote on X.

From Kosovo, which has deep ties with the US since the 1998-99 war, President Vjosa Osmani also congratulated Trump on his White House comeback.

“The US remains Kosovo’s steadfast partner and indispensable ally. I look forward to working with the new administration to further deepen our unique bond and strategic alliance,” Osmani said on X.

A similar message came from Croatian Prime Minister Andrej Plenkovic. “Congratulations on a convincing victory and a second presidential term,” Plenkovic wrote on X. “I look forward to our cooperation and further progress in Croatian-American relations.”

Plenkovic’s domestic political rival, President Zoran Milanovic, hailed “the will of the majority of voters” in choosing Trump. He wrote on Facebook: “Since Croatian independence, the USA has been a partner and friend, I am convinced that this will remain the choice of the new president”.

Albanian Prime Minister Edi Rama was also effusive in his congratulations: “I look forward to the great privilege of working with the 47th President to further enhance our partnership for peace, prosperity and further progress,” Rama wrote on X.

In Bulgaria, Boyko Borissov, leader of recent election-winners GERB and former prime minister, posted a photo of himself with Trump on social media, saying: “I’m ready for us to work together, again!”

Bulgarian President Rumen Radev also congratulated the Republican victor: “I am confident that our effective dialogue at the highest level will continue in the interest of the strategic partnership between Bulgaria and the USA,” Radev said.

Opposition party We Continue the Change’s Kiril Petkov described Trump’s comeback as US president as “a serious achievement”, while noting: “Of course, Bulgaria’s fate depends first and foremost on the will of the Bulgarians, but good cooperation with the US is crucial in the positioning of our country amid the changing geopolitical reality.”

In Greece, Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis added his voice to the congratulatory messages from countries across the region. “Greece looks forward to further deepening the strategic partnership between our two countries and working together on important regional and global issues,” Mitsotakis wrote on X.

[deejadabbles]

The Handmaiden's Fox (Fox x fem!Reader) Prologue

Summary: You have been by Amidala’s side since she was the queen of Naboo and no one will shake you from your duty. Not even a handsome, red-clad commander who seems quite taken with the friendship you’ve forged. Commander Fox x fem handmaiden reader. Slow burn, friends to lovers. Rating: Mature A.N: I've been reading the Queen's trilogy and am now obsessed with Padme's handmaidens! I really loved the idea of writing a reader in that role, and who better for that reader to fall for than the Foxy commander who protects the senate? Now the plot for this series has taken over my life lol This is my first attempt at a slow burn series, so buckle in guys! Lots of confused feelings, mutual pining, fluff, and angst ahead! Word Count: 1,790 Warnings: None besides some mentions of medical procedures Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up  /// AO3

Prologue /// Part One /// Part Two /// [part three coming soon]

The water was calm, despite the young women playing in it, and the sun was bright, warming your body as you hummed with delight. Padmé called your name, causing you to look up, but, beside you, Saché replied before you could.

“We'll be there in a sec!” she giggled, and leaned back on her elbows when your queen turned back to the water.

“She looks so happy,” you hummed, “Despite everything, I think a part of her is glad to finally just be…”

“Her?” Saché finished for you, and you nodded.

This wasn’t the first time you had all visited the lake house, of course, not the first time you were all allowed to let the stoic masks of the court fall away and just…be. But this time was different. In just a few days time, Naboo would have a new monarch, and Padmé would no longer be Queen Amidala.

In turn, you and the other young women here would no longer be the Handmaidens, no longer the bodyguards, the decoys, the spies, and the confidants of Naboo’s queen. Well, you wouldn’t be in title, at least. All of you would always be “The Handmaidens” in spirit, always be sisters, tied together by the unexplainable bond you’d forged in the last four years. You would always be friends.

“So,” Saché started, obviously bringing up why she had delayed the two of you joining the others, “You’re really going to do it?”

Your eyes were closed against the rays of the sun, but you could feel her gaze on you. “I am. She hasn’t said it yet, but, I’m pretty sure Sabé is of the same mind.”

“And there’s truly nothing you want to do? Padmé hasn’t even told us what her plans are after the election, you have no idea what you’ll be doing with her.”

“Then it will be an adventure.” A content sigh left your chest and you rolled onto your side, then finally cracked open your eyes to look at her. “It’s not as if I feel beholden to staying in her service, I just…” 

How could you explain to her? The reason why you weren't choosing a new path? Padmé had never made any of you feel as if you needed to stay with her now that her term as queen was ending, and, most of the handmaidens were starting their new lives. Most had already set things in motion for their own futures, with their queen's help and approval.

But, in your mind, by her side is where you loved to be. Besides that, it didn’t matter if she was no longer queen, in her heart of hearts, Padme would always be a humanitarian. What ever role she took now, it would be a position that helped people, and that was a position you could be proud to serve alongside.

“I feel like this is where destiny wants me. Where ever she goes now, I know that’s where my path is supposed to go too. Who knows, maybe it will lead me to a whole new life, and I’ll leave her services soon anyway.”

You friend wiggled her eyebrows, “Or, maybe you’ll finally find someone who will take care of you for once?”

That made you scoff, “Padme would have to go to quite an exciting place for me to find a man who can finally keep up with me.”

“Who said anything about a man.”

And that caused both of you to dissolve into fits of laughter. This wasn't the first time she joked about men not being able to handle the young women of Naboo's court. In truth, very few of you had had any time for romance these past years, and Saché and Yané had only done so because they found love in each other.

Speaking of Yané, you had just barely caught a glimpse of her hair when a sudden torrent of water came cascading down on you both. The pail of water thoroughly soaked through your swim suit and the delicate sarong tied around your waist.

“There, now neither of you can stall getting in the lake,” Yané’s grin was full of mischief as she threw the pail aside, grabbed Saché’s hand and pulled her to her feet.

The latter was not above a petty retaliation and the moment the two reached the shore, Saché shoved her girlfriend into the water. You were laughing again, the splash violent enough to reach where you were still laying. The two were wrestling now, and calling for you to join them in the water.

You stood, smile wide as Padmé and the others started cheering them on. Your friends, your sisters. Most of you may be going your separate ways soon, but you still had this, time and peace, together. Your thoughts remained on the present as you threw your sarong into the wind and ran to them.

You had no way of knowing that so soon, Padmé would be asked to take up the senator’s seat on Coruscant. That you, re-pledging your service to her, would be set on the path of your future, and some day meet a soldier who would change your life forever.

The med bay was pure chaos, though the sterile lights and calm, collected tones of the Kaminoans might make it seem different to an outsider. CC-1010 let out a hiss, jerking his leg out of the droids reach. He hated it’s cold metal hands, twisting and pulling his limbs with little regard for his comfort.

“I’m fine, let me off this table!” he hissed at the thing.

“Negative,” it buzzed, voice devoid of any sympathy, not that he had expected any, “you have suffered extensive damage to your right patella. Without treatment it could lead to permanent debilitation.”

That made him pause. Permanent damage that hindered a clone’s movements. They all knew what that would lead to. He swallowed hard and, with great reluctance, let the droid return to its work on his knee. He’d be damned if he let a little injury like this get him decommissioned.

He took in the med bay again, watched the people who created him bustle around, making notes, writing up reports. They didn’t care that men were hurt, just bothered by the fact that their training simulator had malfunctioned- catastrophically malfunctioned. Several clone units had been running a front line assault scenario when three gun turrets had come crashing down, causing chaos and destruction. 

CC-1010 knew the Kaminoans wouldn’t blame themselves, despite them being the ones who built and kept up on the damn thing. 

No, the blame would fall to them, the troopers, somehow.

His felt his face twist into a sneer, and to distract himself he turned to the exam table beside him, to the brother he had pulled out of the wreckage. CT-4782 was lucky to be alive. His left arm and leg were badly broken, but bacta could fix that, it was fixing as he watched, causing his brother’s face to twist in pain as the bones repaired themselves. 1010 knew that 4782 could use a distraction.

“Talk to me, trooper.” He said it in his commander voice, making it sound like an order so his brother would snap to attention- and hopefully out of the pain, if only a little. “What’s the fastest time you and your unit have in the simulator?” It was a lame topic starter, but it was something.

Something that caused 4782 to bark out a laugh- which he promptly choked on. After regaining his voice, he actually smirked over at the commander, “This time was gonna be our record. Until it blew the kark up.”

“Well, that just means you’ll have to retry your tactics next time, wont you?” He let the corner of his mouth quirk up a little, wanting to keep the conversation going.

Instead, 4782’s mouth fell into a grimace as he fought off another wave of pain. After another moment, he said, “Why did you dig us out, Commander?”

“What?” he all but blanched, then hissed again when the droid at his knee hit a particularly bad spot.

“You and the others were injured,” the trooper continued, meeting the commander’s eyes again. “You could have waited for the Kaminoans to come in, assess the damage and get us out after. Instead, you and CT-7567 ignored your wounds and dug us out right there. Why?”

The commander kept his eyes on the trooper for a long moment. “A good soldier never leaves a man behind. So long as you’re with me, you can damn well count on that.”

That earned a small, grateful smile. “I’d be proud to fight beside you any day, Commander.”

CC-1010 gave a small nod of his head with pride. Most clones, himself included, thought of their future often, of the war they were training so hard to fight in. Wondered who they would fight beside, who would lead them, but he knew that no matter who was under his command, that truth would remain the same. He never wanted to leave a brother behind.

To keep himself from getting too sappy, he said, “ ‘Suppose you should also say that to CT-7567,” he smirked, looking around for that strange head of buzzed blonde hair. He found it not far away, the man with said hair getting his arm wrapped up by a droid. “Big stunts like that earned him the fast track to Captain,” he said louder, catching the blonde’s attention. When 7567 looked up at him, 1010 immediately went in for the teasing insult, “Only Captain, of course, not commander. He’ll have to win at least one war to ever get that rank.”

The captain in question just rolled his eye and said, “Who said I want to be commander, just means more paperwork. You have fun with the gray hair from all that.”

1010 scoffed, “As if paperwork could make me go gray.”

Beside him, he heard their brother laugh at the banter, and he was glad they continued to distract him from the pain of his injuries. Content, 1010 put his head back against the table for a moment. He let out a sigh and let himself take the time to be thankful that injuries were the worst of what happened today. No deaths, something he knew might not stay true when the big day they were waiting for finally happened.

For now though, he'd just take the win.

He had no way of knowing that in less than a month, a lone, unsuspecting jedi would find his way to their little ocean planet. That 1010 himself would soon be sent to Coruscant, to command the home front forces and meet a handmaiden who would change his life forever.

Taglist: @blueink-bluesoul

[walks-the-ages]

You convinced me to vote for Jill Stein. I was feeling so defeated about voting no preference or not voting but I'm a single issue voter on genocide I guess and couldn't bring myself to vote for a party and administration that was perpetuating it. So it was kind of liberating to vote third party and vote FOR something instead of just against something. All those people saying just vote and some of those same people saying you shouldn't vote third party, it's like does my vote count or doesn't it? So hypocritical. If you're not willing to vote for something better than what's the point? And the Dems haven't moved left and haven't done all the things in the last four years they're promising to do in the next four so again, we need to let go of that dream that we can "move them left." Anyway I guess just thanks for being thought provoking on this issue!

yep, last two elections I was so full of anxiety the entire time, absolutely terrified of what was gonna happen come election night and after...

but this time, after seeing a full entire year of genocide, of learning more and more about US history and the things our government has done and explicitly continues to do under both democrats AND republicans, I voted third party for the first time for the Green Party and I will probably continue to vote Green for the rest of my life, honestly.

I did Early Voting in my state, and here on election day, I am calm, knowing one of the main two is going to win, but knowing that I am also one of the people who won't go down in the history books as embracing the genocide.

I'm doing what I can to help, both online (signal boosting) and in my local community .

The people who spend their entire life frothing at the mouth about "we just need to vote blue no matter who just one more time! The canidate doesn't need to be perfect!They can commit genocide even! They just need to be wearing a blue hat while doing it!" every 4 years online.... I really can't say that I confidently believe these people engage with their local communities.

and yeah, you hit the nail on the head.

"Every vote counts! But no, don't vote like that! That doesn't count!"

"Every vote counts only when its in favor of my blue-hat-wearing genocidaire, any vote for literally any third party is just you literally voting for the red-hats! Ignore the complete lack of logic in this statement! Don't even ask if conservatives voting for a conservative third party are also somehow voting for the red-hats, or if by my logic, their vote is magically going to the blue-hats when they vote yellow-hats instead of red!"

Vote Scolders and genocide apologists really need to come to grips with the reality that if you're constantly, for almost a decade now, being "forced" by a two party system to "choose the lesser evil" and that "lesser" evil continues to push right wing policies, lose national protections for abortion and queer rights including trans healthcare, and is literally currently committing genocide and bombing multiple countries who actually try to stop the genocide, and embrace literal modern day hitler by inviting Netanyahu, a literal war criminal with an arrest warrent out for him in multiple countries to come speak directly to congress where the "good, lesser-evil" party gave him over 20 standing ovations for spouting genocidal rhetoric....... uh, first of all, you're not voting for a 'lesser' evil of any kind, you're just voting for an evil you think will be slightly more convenient for you, and you will happily throw entire nations into concentration and death camps if it makes you feel slightly more cushy and secure and two --

we don't actually live in a democracy if we are "forced" by a two-party system to vote for two equally genocidal fucks who don't represent any of their constituents and live on lies, lies, and more lies.

Democrats continually refuse to even consider raising the minimum wage and happily embrace funneling millions of dollars to Cop City so we can even further militarize the police here so they can better kill people every single day, while Trump gains voters by making wild promises that he's gonna make overtime be paid out in triple pay instead of time and a half that he, clearly, being a fascist billionaire fuck, never intends to fufill, but sounds good to the people who have been voting Democrat their entire life but never seen any material benefit from it (and yes, that is a real example a coworker gave me of why they were initially considering voting for trump, but then decided they're just not going to vote at all because none of the candidates actually feel good for them, and their family is split down the middle calling anyone who doesn't vote for their favorite side a traitor, ) etc.

Anyways, thank you for the anon, I am glad I could be of help!

Endlessly voting for "The lesser evil" just leads to anxiety and despair; actually putting your vote in for a candidate you want to vote for is one of the most freeing experiences possible if all you've been old enough to vote in is these constant Doomsday Elections.

There's a lot of ways to get started making connections in your local community, and the one I have started with and inspired many others to as well, is to simply start a garden, learn how to grow food and save seeds, and start sharing that with first your direct surrounding neighbors, then your neighborhood via online groups, and beyond! I've gotten many people into growing their own food and then beyond to sharing their harvests just by simply informing people "if you are buying colored bell peppers or tomatoes, or bags of dried beans, you can literally just plant all of those seeds" and watching their faces become full of wonder.

Oh and if you want a theme song for voting third party after voting for the lesser evil all this time lol:

anyways for anyone who hasn't voted yet, here's Jill Stein with the Green Party's ballot access map:

and here is their platform:

To all the "Vote Blue No Matter Who" crowd who actually do care about Gaza, but you're absolutely terrified of this election because of what everyone has been saying about Trump ending the world if Democrats don't win:

Remember, you are allowed to change your mind.

No one else can see who you voted for.

You do not have to decide 5 months in advance of an election that you're going to be voting for x and then have that decision written in stone.

The only time its too late to change your vote is after you've already cast your ballot.

You can go into that voting booth thinking you're gonna vote for x, and then see the screen or the paper and realize you really, really do not want to support the ongoing genocide.

After you have cast your vote, if someone asks who you voted for and you don't wanna say you voted for the Green Party........ you can literally just lie. Especially if its going to protect you from predatory friends or family who are part of the doomerist "vote blue no matter what they do" crowd.

Same goes for Republicans, or people who think they have to vote for Trump because their entire family is strict MAGA supporters.

You do not have to vote for Trump. You can vote for whoever you want, including third party. No one needs to know who you are voting for. If your maga friends and family demand to know if you voted for Trump too, you can..... just say yes.

No one is obligated to know who you voted for. If you want to vote for a party that is actually trying to make a difference in how much shit there is in the world, but you need to protect yourself from friends and family, you can simply lie and say you voted for their favorite candidate "of course!"

[bopinion]

2024 / 25

Aperçu of the week

"The future looked better in the past."

(Karl Valentin, Munich original who actually invented comedy at the beginning of the 19th century)

Bad News of the Week

France is heading for a standstill. Which is called "cohabitation". This means that the president and his prime minister, appointed by parliament, come from different political camps. This paralyzes the executive and legislative branches in many ways. How could this happen?

On the evening of the European elections on June 9, in which Marine Le Pen's right-wing populist party, the Rassemblement National, won 93% of the constituencies, President Emmanuel Macron pulled a strange rabbit out of the hat: new elections. After just three weeks. As a litmus test to see whether the people really want to move so far to the right. And as a shot that could backfire badly if the current polls are to be believed. Because they also see RN clearly ahead in the early parliamentary elections.

One day we will read in Macron's memoirs whether this was deliberate political suicide or "just" a fatal miscalculation. Because the third possibility (and I would love to be wrong), that the French will decide completely different at national level, is more than unlikely.

What makes the whole thing so hard to bear for us neighbors is that Macron is an avowed friend of the European idea. And does a lot for it. And Le Pen is an enemy. Who will do a lot against it. After all, RN's declared program is to reduce the European project to a single economic market. Nothing more. Jacques Delors, François Mitterrand, Jacques Chirac and many other convinced Europeans would be turning in their graves.

Good News of the Week

No more "brain dead" or "obsolete": since Russia's war of aggression against Ukraine, NATO has been more vital and agile than it has been for a long time. I am an absolute pacifist. But even I have to recognize that the principle of deterrence is a protective shield for Europe. That it must continue to exist as long as there are despots who don't give a damn about international law or human rights. Now Sweden and Finland have become part of the military alliance, troop units are being deployed to the countries on the eastern flank, never before have more member states invested the targeted 2% of national economic output in their defense.

Yet the North Atlantic Treaty Organization is anything but a martial club of snarling generals, but rather a political factor. Jens Stoltenberg understood this. The former Norwegian Prime Minister has been leading the alliance as Secretary General for 10 years with a sense of proportion instead of sabre-rattling. He sees the organization as a force for order in an increasingly unstable world. He actually wanted to retire two years ago. But then the war in Ukraine intervened. Now, however, a successor has been found who seems to have the necessary support of the member states (the heads of state represented include after all "personalities" such as Viktor Orbán, Recep Erdogan and Robert Fico).

Mark Rutte is now waiting in the wings. The Dutch Prime Minister has been in office the longest in the history of his country. And during this time, he has not stood out as a dogged right-winger, but rather as a mediator and bridge-builder. He has confidently led four completely different party alliances. He is undoubtedly pro-Europe and pro-multilateralism. He has always clearly criticized Vladimir Putin and is a true transatlanticist. And he practically always comes across as positive, not to say in a good mood. That can't really do any harm.

Personal happy moment of the week

It was my birthday. And my kids got me a very special present. I had to solve a homemade crossword puzzle with questions like "What was the name of your daughter's first teacher?" or "What was the name of your son's favorite stuffed animal?". The answer resulted in a weekend where the children invite me to a city I've always wanted to visit. I can look forward to many personal happy moments. Thank you!

I couldn't care less...

...that Federal Education Minister Bettina Stark-Watzinger gets fire under her ass. Her ministry has arranged for a funding cut to be considered for professors who have shown solidarity with pro-Palestine actions by students. A clear violation of academic freedom and freedom of expression. As far as I'm concerned, she can quit tomorrow.

It's fine with me...

...that Federal Economics Minister Robert Habeck is talking to Beijing about distortions of competition caused by subsidies for Chinese electric car manufacturers. Anything is better than a fight over punitive tariffs. The fact that the Green politician is jumping over his own shadow here, just as he did with his liquefied natural gas purchases in Arabia during the energy crisis, is pragmatic - and not a betrayal of ideals.

As I write this...

...the third match day of the European Football Championship is underway. The public viewing areas are full, television ratings are high, spirits are good and practically everyone is an expert all of a sudden - and still can't explain the offside rules. I just find it relaxing that the headlines are also about Harry Kane's weaker foot or Kylian Mbappé's nose instead of always listing disasters.

Post Scriptum

Once a year, the Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution publishes a "State of the Nation" report. With a balanced choice of words, strict neutrality and no political agenda - after all, it is a state-supporting, non-partisan institution. This year, however, a certain alarmism can be detected in the report on the protection of the constitution. This is because the Office sees a clear increase in threats from left-wing extremists, Islamists and, above all, right-wing extremists. They all often have anti-Semitism and hatred of Israel in common.

Even if I question the latter a little - after all, I have the feeling that anyone who advocates a two-state solution or criticizes Benjamin Netanyahu's right-wing cabinet is immediately considered an anti-Semite - this is a worrying development. The radicalization of individuals who no longer feel perceived or respected by politicians is spreading, thanks (in part) to social media. Do we need appropriate regulation after all, or is this all covered by freedom of expression, which has simply become louder these days? I'm not sure...

[bllsbailey]

Analysis: The Final State of the Presidential Race (Adam Turner, Red State)

For whom the bell tolls.  It tolls for thee…Kamala Harris.

That’s right – I am predicting that former President Donald Trump will defeat Vice President Kamala Harris in the 2024 presidential election.

We now have less than a week to go before Election Day. The Democrats have chosen their final argument against Donald Trump.  t is – Donald Trump is a crude, barbarian crook who abuses women and minorities and wants to overthrow America’s democratic society in favor of dictatorship. Did you hear, they say, that Donald Trump held a Nazi rally at Madison Square Garden (strangely attended by many Jewish Americans)?  Did you hear, they say, that Trump is a crude, insulting and racist New Yorker (e.g., he let Puerto Rican’s be insulted)? Did you hear, they say, that Trump sexually assaulted another woman, this time, with Epstein?

And Kamala Harris just gave her final campaign speech, castigating Donald Trump for being a dictator wannabe, at the site of the events of January 6, 2021.

There is nothing new with any of these assaults, and they will not help the Harris campaign to actually win the race.(especially if Joe Biden is stepping on their message). Presumably, Harris and her campaign are doing this because they are trapped in their own doom loop, which I mentioned in my prior column. Even worse, they may also be resorting to it in desperation to get their own base voters frightened enough to vote in the coming election.  Because the turnout so far has not been good for the Democrats, and nothing else seems to be going their way, either.

But, let me start my predictions with RealClearPolitics. Trump is up in the RCP average by .4%. As I have said before, Harris needed to be up by at least 3% points here to be confident of winning the electoral college. She is down, instead.

President Biden’s approval rating is still at 41%, and his administration is not popular either, according to all the traditional signs. This is not a positive for him, or his vice president.

Vice President Harris is intrinsically tied to the Biden-Harris administration. Her feeble attempts to pretend to be independent from it were laughable and unconvincing to even the most uninformed swing voters. Most embarrassingly, multiple times, she explicitly stated that she would not have done anything different from the Biden-Harris policies. Way to differentiate yourself, Kamala.

The issues of 2024 were heavily stacked against Harris. The economy was, and still is, bad. Inflation, especially, is a killer for her campaign. And after first pretending that the economy was good, Harris pivoted to complaining about big businesses’ supposedly gouging the consumers. Which was never going to work for a key member of the incumbent administration who could have addressed this supposed problem ... anytime during the past four years. 

The border was, and is, porous. Every few months, another American is killed, wounded or terrorized by an illegal alien let in by the Biden-Harris administration. The latest – an orthodox American Jew was killed by a jihadist Muslim illegal who had entered this country through the southern border. Why the Biden-Harris administration did not limit the flooding of the border so that it was “slow and steady,” and then slow it down even further near the election, I will never know.  

The world was, and still is, on fire because of the Biden-Harris administration’s appeasement. Which has led to rioting in the U.S., with terror sympathizers attacking other Americans, especially Jews, on college campuses, and elsewhere.  And Harris continues to cover for these antisemites, who are overwhelmingly Democrats.  

Finally, Harris proved to be the bad candidate that most assumed she was prior to the Obama/Pelosi coup, ousting Joe Biden as the Democrat candidate. She was known to be far to the left, and to be inauthentic. She was also known to be lazy (as even the MSM had admitted). And this all showed in her campaigning, her embarrassing interviews, her word salads, her strange cackling, and her many, many mistakes.  

What Harris, and before her Biden, needed to do most was undermine the belief that Donald Trump had an excellent record, both on the economy, and in foreign policy, from his 2017 to 2021 presidential term in office. But these Democrats never did so. Except for their lame attempts to pretend the COVID year of 2020 was representative of Donald Trump’s entire term, despite the fact that no swing voters believed that it was true, or that the Democrats would have done any differently.  

So, now, for my final presidential predictions:

Donald Trump will win the popular vote for the presidency. The RCP has Trump up 48.5% to 48.1%. This is not likely to be the actual vote for the race, however. As I discussed before, even the RCP, which was the best of the polling aggregators, still underestimated Trump’s final vote. My normally pessimistic buddy Cameron has claimed that this might not happen again, since he believes that the polling industry is making real efforts to identify these voters.  

Based on current polling numbers, I agree, but only partly. They have done better, BUT the average still includes at least one of the ridiculous Tier 1 polls, Morning Consult, which has Harris up 3%. And the other polls are still going to include those that are off, but more slightly. In this situation, I believe that the true number will be closer to those produced by the Tier 3 polls, which now include Atlas Intel, the Wall Street Journal, and Gallup, and are seemingly merging with some of the Tier 2 polls, including CNBC, Forbes/Harris, Fox News, and the bouncing daily tracker, Rasmussen. Further, all the early vote indicators have the GOP doing extremely well (see above), and the Democrats panicking. Also, history dictates that any remaining swing voters should be going to the out-party at this point (or just not voting). The 1980 results demonstrate that sometimes the out-party can see its vote swell against the in-party as swing voters throw up their hands and gamble (and here they aren’t gambling – Trump was already president before, and his record was good). The Harris campaign is clearly panicking in general, as they have sent Harris to Fox News, with Bret Baer, for a horribly embarrassing interview, and to other more pro-Democrat media groups, where Harris has also managed to humiliate herself. She would not be doing so if she were ahead.

  Further, at a recent GOP event that I attended, a Republican data bigwig proved to be very cagy about what he expected the final results were going to be. Importantly, he expressed an uncertainty about who was going to turn out, and acknowledged that the affiliated GOP campaign (e.g., Turning Point, Elon Musk’s group, etc.) were trying to duplicate what the Obama campaign achieved in 2012 to get out less likely voters. So, putting all these variables into my, big as a factory, unbelievably complicated, math-heavy, scientific model, which puts all other models to shame – I have scientifically come to the conclusion that the math clearly dictates that Donald Trump will win 51% of the vote, Kamala Harris, will gain 47%, and the remaining 2% will go to the sad, third-party candidates. My model predicts that there is a 60% chance of this happening! There is also a 25% chance that Trump will get more than 51%; and only a 15% chance that Harris will do better. Believe it, my vast, enlightened, well-read, and non-garbage audience.  Don’t be a science denier!   

 Donald Trump will win the electoral college, rather easily, with 312 (plus) votes. Just looking at the RCP averages, again, Trump is marked as favored to win all of his 2020 states. In AZ and GA, which he narrowly lost in 2020, he is up 2.2% in AZ and 2.4% in GA. Of the big industrial states – MI, PA, and WI – Trump is very narrowly leading in all but MI. However, the underestimation of Trump’s vote in 2016 and 2020 has been heavy in these states, which have a larger amount of blue-collar voters. If there is any underestimation at all, he will sweep these three battlegrounds.  

Lastly, there is NV, where Trump is up .5%. Here, the polling tends to underestimate the Democrats. However, I am a very optimistic fellow, and Jon Ralston, a long-time Democrat but reputable political observer of the state, is noting how bad the early numbers are for the Democrats, so I am predicting this state goes to Trump. Finally, there are other states on the cusp of competitiveness – ME, MN, NH, NM, and VA.  Mark Halperin, who has access to campaign staffers and their polling numbers, has hinted that in all these states, Trump may be more viable than expected. My model, however, unfortunately predicts that just oneof these states will go for Donald Trump. Sad! But once again, don’t you dare question the science!  

Perhaps the most chilling fact of all for the Harris team is that my buddy Cameron, that champion of bottomless pessimism, has come to make his final call. He says, emphatically, that Donald Trump will become the 47th president. And that, my friends, means its time for the horizontally challenged lady to prep to sing for Kamala Harris.  

Does anyone know where Stacy Abrams is, by the way?

[ahopkins1965]

The End Times vs The Last Days of The Bible

By: Anthony Joseph Hopkins





        Good Day Everyone!! This is a comparison and contrast paper that is based on the End of Times vs The Last Days.  I would like to start things off by asking everyone a very important question.

 What do we mean by the End Times and the Last Days?  The first thing that comes to mind is the end of the world.  It literally scares me because I would not want all of this to come to an end.  I know that the Son of Man, who is Jesus Christ is coming soon.  We have to be patient and wait on Him.  I am doing just that right now.  I am waiting on the Lord.





        Next, I am patiently waiting on Him by maintaining my faith in the Lord.  My name is Anthony Joseph Hopkins and I am from Dayton, Ohio.  I am placing emphasis on the End Times vs The Last Days.  When it comes to the End Times, Jesus was talking to His Disciples by letting them know that the end is not here.  When it comes to Matthew’s Interpretation of the End of Times, his account is very specific.  There are Greek and Hebrew interpretations when it comes to the very end.  At least, for me, I am looking for additional insight when it comes to the very end of the system of things.  Every time I read the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, my thinking tends to change.  This is because Matthew was very specific about the things that Jesus Christ has said to the Disciples that they must do these things. 





        Further, I want to say that I am utilizing all four Gospels so that I can receive a dialogue among my colleagues and members of the General Public.  Honestly, what is being said by the Disciples has made me more aware of my surroundings and the people that is inside of it.  I also have to pay real attention to my behavior.  I know that I am trying to explain some things that are happening right now, and the things to come.





       

I have to become fully aware of the things that in the above image.  I know that there will be false Christs, False Prophets, Earthquakes, Wars, Rumors of Wars, Nation vs Nation, and Kingdoms vs Kingdoms.  I am aware of earthquakes in the State of Ohio this year as well as 15 Tornadoes in the Dayton, Ohio Area.  These are the things that are happening right now, and the Last Days are forthcoming.  To be frank with everyone, both of these events are happening simultaneously.





        The image that I have posted right now is from The Rapture.  I have seen things that have occurred in my 59 years of existence, and it has changed tremendously since 1980. 

This information itself has also been talked about in the Old Testament.  I want to say that every time I read the Book of Isaiah, Daniel, and Micah, it has been talked about in advance.  I am very apprehensive not about the present, but the future.  I get the impression that this is going to get worse before it gets better.





        Moreover, I only wish that I can see the Lord for myself.  I do not have any doubts about my faith in the Lord.  Like they say, nothing last forever.  I realize that this is a very long paper, but I feel confident in my attempts to come to a swift conclusion.  When it comes to the End Times, family members will kill family members as well.  Brother will go against brother; whereas sisters will go against each other as well.  I know that I have to do my very best to live for the Lord Jesus Christ.  I am not perfect, but I will say that I am living for Him. 





       

 

In Addition, I want to say that Mark 13th Chapter is a repeat of what Jesus Christ told His Disciples regarding the End of Times.  There will be random acts of violence everywhere worldwide.  Mark 13th Chapter is written differently.  I get the impression that the audience that this is written for is different. 





       

 

 

For False Christs and False Prophets shall rise and show signs and wonders to try to seduce, if it were possible, even the elect.  Members of the Church will be confused by these people who claim to be Prophets and a Christ that is fake.  This is the reason why I am reading the Bible and observing the things with my eyes to see for myself. 





        Finally, I want to mention the Last Days because I have spent too much time on the End of Times.  The Last Days are going to be much worse than the End Times.  This means that everything that is mentioned inside of the Bible will take place.  I know that for me personally, I want to see the Lord for myself.



 It really scares me to see creatures that are dwelling among the people of the earth to destroy them.  I am very apprehensive because if I see a creature that is abnormal dwelling inside of this earth, it would really frighten me.  If it is inside of the Bible, God will have to allow me to survive all of these things.





        In Conclusion, I am praying that I will survive all of this.  I know for myself that the second coming of Jesus Christ will be a glorious appearance.  My prayer is that I can see the Lord for myself.  All of what I have been reading as of late has completely changed me for the better.  When it comes to the Last Days, things are going to be so bad that the safest place to be at is inside of the Church.  There are times when people lock the doors of the Church.  There is a profound fear that people are going to change for the worse.





        In Summary, I want to inform all of you that we are living inside of a changing society.  I want to say that Jesus Presence is apparent to me and for everyone.  In reference to the End Times and the Last Days, I have to watch and be very careful of people, places, and things. 

[ianmhill]

6.11

While we were away in Puerto Rico, we had to watch the Old Glory game away at Miami on my tablet. Though as they lost the game, I don't think it was a big problem. But, despite the loss, they managed to get the (losing) bonus point they needed to get into the play-offs again this year, which is a decent achievement.

Whether they will end the regular season with an even record (7-7-2) depends on how they go against New Orleans tomorrow. I am (as usual, with any team I support!) not entirely confident of a win but NOLA have already secured a home semi final, with little chance of being top of the conference as New England play Anthem, so maybe they won't put out a full strength side.

It's been a tad warm again here this week, though maybe not as hot as when we were away last week. In the short time we were away - with no rain - the hydrangea that we have in a pot out the front of the house shriveled up and the four we have in the ground at the back were very wilted. Fortunately some TLC (actually water) has been applied and most things seem to have recovered now, though one in the back garden looks like half of it has died.

Uh oh, it's about to get political.

Last night was the first (of two, I think) presidential debates. I could only watch the first half of it - it was just utterly embarrassing watching the former president lie and fabricate his way through the session, with no rebuttal of his assertions from the mannequin the Democrats put up instead of Joe Biden. At least I think it must have been a mannequin. He spoke quietly with no conviction or passion, had no facial expression at all (literally) and laid out for all to see what an old man he is. If he doesn't back down (I think he won't, voluntarily) they are gifting the election to the Republicans.

Seriously, someone needs to tell him to give it up and make way for someone younger and more vibrant. His family, the Democratic party, and his campaign must have watched last night cringing through the entire thing. Somebody at some point must have already told him to back down, surely, but it must now be an ego thing with President Biden. The former guy must have enjoyed last night tremendously and which won't have done his campaign any harm at all.

The fact that the convicted felon was able to spout nothing but lies, with no challenges, means that he sounded all the more confident, especially to the uninformed (aka his supporters). Depressing way to start the weekend.

[god-whispers]

jul 27

God is waiting on us

"and therefore will the Lord wait, that he may be gracious unto you...blessed are all they that wait for him." isa 30:18

i know many of you are already beginning to think we have once again been disappointed in our expectations.  perhaps that is the way it will turn out, but i would remind everyone - there is still time on the clock.  i would remind everyone that we said to watch the few next succeeding days.  we are still in the "season" and all the signs that pointed to it have not gone away.

if anything, i am seeing an intensifying of some of them and new ones besides.  no.  i will never quit expecting.  when labor has commenced it is too late for anyone to say, "i've changed my mind."  delivery is going to ensue.  maybe just a few more pains and pushes.  (women may need to explain that to men and childless ones.)

we must not only think of our waiting upon God, but also of something more wonderful still - God’s waiting on us.  the vision of Him waiting on us, will give new impulse and inspiration to our waiting on Him.  it will give us unspeakable confidence that our waiting cannot be in vain.

let us seek even now, at this moment (in the spirit of waiting on God), to find out something of what it means.  He has inconceivably glorious purposes concerning every one of His children.  and you ask, “how is it, if He waits to be gracious, that even after i come and wait on Him, He does not give the help i seek, but waits on longer and longer?”

God is a wise husbandman.  "therefore be patient, brethren, until the coming of the Lord.  see how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, waiting patiently for it until it receives the early and latter rain." james 5:7

He cannot gather the fruit till it is ripe.  He knows when we are spiritually ready to receive the blessing to our profit and His glory.  waiting in the sunshine of His love is what will ripen the soul for His blessing.  waiting under the cloud of trial, that breaks in showers of blessings, is as needful.  be assured that if God waits longer than you could wish, it is only to make the blessing doubly precious.

"God waited four thousand years, till the fullness of time, ere He sent His Son.  our times are in His hands; He will avenge His elect speedily; He will make haste for our help, and not delay one hour too long." — andrew murray

"then believed they his words; they sang his praise.  they soon forgot his works; they waited not for his counsel; but lusted exceedingly in the wilderness, and tempted God in the desert.  and he gave them their request; but sent leanness into their soul." psa 106:12-15  if our day "seems" postponed, it is only for a time and for a reason.

we read of moses, that “he endured, "as seeing him who is invisible."  exactly the opposite was true of the children of israel in this record.  they endured only when the circumstances were favorable; they were largely governed by the things that appealed to their senses, instead of resting in the invisible and eternal God.

in the present day there are those who live intermittent Christian lives because they have become occupied with the outward, and center in circumstances, instead of centering in God.  God wants us more and more to see Him in everything, and to call nothing small if it bears us His message.

here we read of the children of israel, “then they believed his words.”  they did not believe till after they saw — when they saw Him work, then they believed.  they really doubted God when they came to the red sea; but when God opened the way and led them across and they saw pharaoh and his host drowned — then they believed.

they led an up and down life because of this kind of faith; it was a faith that depended upon circumstances.  this is not the kind of faith God wants us to have.  the world says “seeing is believing,” but God wants us to believe in order to see.  the psalmist said, "i would have lost heart, unless i had believed that i would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living." psa 27:13

our hope is not dashed,  it is only delayed, and yet, still coming before most think it will.

i do not ask my cross to understand, my way to see — better in darkness just to feel Thy hand, and follow Thee.

we believe on when faith is all we have to hold us up.  "faith is to believe what we do not see, and the reward of this faith is to see what we believe." st. augustine

look upon another day delayed as another day to reach another soul; to restore one who has strayed from the "narrow way."  God's knows the end from the beginning and we must trust He will make it so.  "did I not say to you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?" john 11:40  so what is our mission?  the same as it's always been.  we watch.  we wait.  we occupy.  we do what we know to do.  we still see the day approaching and today we are closer than yesterday.

[akindplace]

Health update, hair upkeep and gratefulness list.

I retouched my hair, took care of it with a lot of nourishing, reconstructive and moisturizing creams. Put some matching lip tint on, and went to bed. Took some selfies first, not going to bother editing my acne. Finally getting some self-confidence with it, and the treatment is working anyway. Also not going to edit the brightness of the picture 'cause I am too tired to go on lightroom.

Tonight I am grateful for going to physiotherapy, even though I haven't slept in two days, had a migraine and several panic attacks. Managed to strike up conversation with strangers without feeling the least bit anxious. Managed to care for my allergies and I didn't lose my breath or got my throat closed up. I'm glad I rested and then dyed my hair, took care of it, did my skincare too. I am glad I set more boundaries today. Petted, played and had fun with my dogs, managed to feel beautiful even with my current acne and acne scars to the point I don't really bother much with it. Tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment to check my medication. Then I might take some photos, that would be really nice and good for my self-esteem: put on some makeup, eyeliner and take some selfies!

Taking each day at a time. I refuse to think about a long-term future not only because of my EDS relapse, my anxiety relapse, and the chronic pain, but also because there is a pandemic going on, still. There is so much going on in the world, in Brazil (where I live), to the point it's unpredictable! I am not going to waste more energy being anxious about the next four our five years. I will take care of my health, vote on the elections, try to increase my boundaries and my self-confidence, and try to read, write, research interesting topics, and connect more with people, and help others, if I can. That's what I hope for. I am trying to be realistic. And I will keep in touch with my spirituality because personally that is important to me.

The most important thing is to focus on the positive more than I focus on the negative, focusing on my needs, prioritizing myself, not being ashamed of being sick/looking sick/acting sick and reaching out for help. The most important thing is to live each and every day at a time now.

The past is gone. Nothing I can do about it. Dwelling on it only makes me depressed. I have to heal and move on. The future is too uncertain. So I will focus on the present. And try to be grateful that I have things to live for and that my body and mind are trying their best to keep me here, even when they hurt, because it's a sign that I am alive and that I should listen to their needs. I want to be my biggest ally on this fight against illness.

Goodnight!

Thank you if you've read so far.

Lots of love,

Liv. 🌱💋💜💕

[qqueenofhades]

Do you really hate this county? Or were you just ranting?

Sigh. I debated whether or not to answer this, since I usually keep the real-life/politics/depressing current events to a relative minimum on this blog, except when I really can't avoid ranting about it. But I have some things to get off my chest, it seems, and you did ask. So.

The thing is, any American with a single modicum of genuine historical consciousness knows that despite all the triumphalist mythology about Pulling Up By Our Bootstraps and the American Dream and etc, this country was founded and built on the massive and systematic exploitation and extermination of Black and Indigenous people. And now, when we are barely (400 years later!!!) getting to a point of acknowledging that in a widespread way, oh my god the screaming. I'm so sick of the American right wing I could spit for so many reasons, not least of which is the increasingly reductive and reactive attempts to put the genie back in the bottle and set up hysterical boogeymen about how Teaching Your Children Critical Race Theory is the end of all things. They have forfeited all pretense of being a real governing party; remember how their only platform at the 2020 RNC was "support whatever Trump says?" They have devolved to the point where the cruelty IS the point, to everyone who doesn't fit the nakedly white supremacist mold. They don't have anything to do aside from attempt to usher in actual, literal, dictionary-definition-of-fascism and sponsor armed revolts against the peaceful transfer of power.

That is fucking exhausting to be aware of all the time, especially with the knowledge that if we miss a single election cycle -- which is exceptionally easy to do with the way the Democratic electorate needs to be wooed and courted and herded like cats every single time, rather than just getting their asses to the polls and voting to keep Nazis out of office -- they will be right back in power again. If Manchin and Sinema don't get over their poseur pearl-clutching and either nuke the filibuster or carve out an exception for voting rights, the John Lewis Voting Rights Act is never going to get passed, no matter how many boilerplate appeals the Democratic leadership makes on Twitter. In which case, the 2022 midterms are going to give us Kevin McCarthy, Speaker of the House (I threw up in my mouth a little typing that) and right back to the Mitch McConnell Obstruction Power Hour in the Senate. The Online Left (TM) will then blame the Democrats for not doing more to stop them. These are, of course, the same people who refused to vote for Hillary Clinton out of precious moral purity reasons in 2016, handed the election to Trump, and now like to complain when the Trump-stacked Supreme Court reliably churns out terrible decisions. Gee, it's almost like elections have consequences!!

Aside from my exasperation with the death-cult right-wing fascists and the Online Left (TM), I am sick and tired of how forty years of "trickle-down" Reaganomics has created a world where billionaires can just fly to space for the fun of it, while the rest of America (and the world) is even more sick, poor, overheated, economically deprived, and unable to survive the biggest public health crisis in a century, even if half the elected leadership wasn't actively trying to sabotage it. Did you know that half of American workers can't even afford a one-bedroom apartment? Plus the obvious scandal that is race relations, health care, paid leave, the education system (or lack thereof), etc etc. I'm so tired of this America Is The Greatest Country in the World mindless jingoistic catchphrasing. We are an empire in the late stages of collapse and it's not going to be pretty for anyone. We have been poisoned on sociopathic-libertarian-selfishness-disguised-as-Freedom ideology for so long that that's all there is left. We have become a country of idiots who believe everything their idiot friends post on social media, but in a very real sense, it's not directly those individuals' fault. How could they, when they have been very deliberately cultivated into that mindset and stripped of critical thinking skills, to serve a noxious combination of money, power, and ideology?

I am tired of the fact that I have become so drained of empathy that when I see news about more people who refused to get the vaccine predictably dying of COVID, my reaction is "eh, whatever, they kind of deserved it." I KNOW that is not a good mindset to have, and I am doing my best to maintain my personal attempts to be kind to those I meet and to do my small part to make the world better. I know these are human beings who believed what they were told by people that they (for whatever reason) thought knew better than them, and that they are part of someone's family, they had loved ones, etc. But I just can't summon up the will to give a single damn about them (I'm keeping a bingo card of right-wing anti-vax radio hosts who die of COVID and every time it's like, "Alexa, play Another One Bites The Dust.") The course that the pandemic took in 21st-century America was not preordained or inevitable. It was (and continues to be) drastically mismanaged for cynical political reasons, and the legacy of the Former Guy continues to poison any attempts to bring it under control or convince people to get a goddamn vaccine. We now have over 100,000 patients hospitalized with COVID across the country -- more than last summer, when the vaccines weren't available.

I have been open about my fury about the devaluation of the humanities and other critical thinking skills, about the fact that as an academic in this field, my chances of getting a full-time job for which I have trained extensively and acquired a specialist PhD are... very low. I am tired of the fact that Americans have been encouraged to believe whatever bullshit they fucking please, regardless of whether it is remotely true, and told that any attempt to correct them is "anti-freedom." I am tired of how little the education system functions in a useful way at all -- not necessarily due to the fault of teachers, who have to work with what they're given, and who are basically heroes struggling stubbornly along in a profession that actively hates them, but because of relentless under-funding, political interference, and furious attempts, as discussed above, to keep white America safely in the dark about its actual history. I am tired of the fact that grade school education basically relies on passing the right standardized tests, the end. I am tired of the implication that the truth is too scary or "un-American" to handle. I am tired. Tired.

I know as well that "America" is not synonymous in all cases with "capitalist imperialist white-supremacist corporate death cult." This is still the most diverse country in the world. "America" is not just rich white middle-aged Republicans. "America" involves a ton of people of color, women, LGBTQ people, Muslims, Jews, Christians of good will (I have a whole other rant on how American Christianity as a whole has yielded all pretense of being any sort of a principled moral opposition), white allies, etc etc. all trying to make a better world. The blue, highly vaccinated, Biden-winning states and counties are leading the economic recovery and enacting all kinds of progressive-wishlist dream policies. We DID get rid of the Orange One via the electoral process and avert fascism at the ballot box, which is almost unheard-of, historically speaking. But because, as also discussed above, certain elements of the Democratic electorate need to fall in love with a candidate every single time or threaten to withhold their vote to punish the rest of the country for not being Progressive Enough, these gains are constantly fragile and at risk of being undone in the next electoral cycle. Yes, the existing system is a crock of shit. But it's what we've got right now, and the other alternative is open fascism, which we all got a terrifying taste of over the last four years. I don't know about you, but I really don't want to go back.

So... I don't know. I don't know if that stacks up to hate. I do hate almost everything about what this country currently is, structurally speaking, but I recognize that is not identical with the many people who still live here and are trying to do their best, including my friends, family, and myself. I am exhausted by the fact that as an older millennial, I am expected to survive multiple cataclysmic economic crashes, a planet that is literally boiling alive, a barely functional political system run on black cash, lies, and xenophobia, a total lack of critical thinking skills, renewed assaults on women/queer people/POC/etc, and somehow feel like I'm confident or prepared for the future. Not all these problems are only America's fault alone. The West as a whole bears huge responsibility for the current clusterfuck that the world is in, for many reasons, and so do some non-Western countries. But there is no denying that many of these problems have ultimate American roots. See how the ongoing fad for right-wing authoritarian strongmen around the world has them modeling themselves openly on Trump (like Brazil's lunatic president, Jair Bolsonaro, who talks all the time about how Trump is his political role model). See what's going on in Afghanistan right now. Etc. etc.

Anyway. I am very, very tired. There you have it.

[avintagekiss24]

CALIFORNIA KING || CHUBBY!BUCKY BARNES

pairing: Chubby!Sheriff!Bucky Barnes x black!reader || word count: 6,429 || warnings: smut, sex, vaginal fingering, hand job, bad language words

authors note: here we are! chubs is finally here! we’re set back in Virginia in the 60s in this one, but we’re not acknowledging the bullshit of the time period. i write to get away from real world issues, and i like the clothes in this decade. you will also notice a few characters from a certain show called Lovecraft Country, because, well, I like them a lot too. please enjoy.

line divider by, you guessed it, @firefly-graphics​ (they’re all so pretty)

Virginia, 1964

Your heels click along the pavement as you move towards the small diner in the middle of town. The sun is high and hot, the beams beating down on your bare shoulders as you adjust your yellow rimmed sunglasses over your face. Your white purse swings off the tips of your fingers, your bracelet, a present from Bucky, clinking softly against your watch, (another present from Bucky), as you move with confidence.

Your sister Ruby moves quietly behind you, her eyes out in front, scanning the sidewalk and street as the two of you go, “You shouldn’t come out dressed like that.” She huffs in your direction as she catches the eye of two older white women moving in your direction.

You turn your head towards her and then glance at the women walking past you, their eyes dropping down to your slightly exposed midriff, then your high waisted, navy blue shorts. You push your sunglasses down your nose and maintain eye contact with them as the two women move by.

“I’m not worried about these small town hicks.” You answer loudly, turning around to walk backward so you can keep your eyes on them, “I am free to dress how I please, thank you.”

Ruby shakes her head as she laughs sarcastically, “You never did know how to act.”

“It is 1964. They just need to get the fuck over it - we are here. This is just as much our town as it is theirs.” You spit, tossing your short hair slightly, “Plus, not everybody here is like them.”

Ruby closes her eyes and holds up her hands, completely uninterested in what you’re about to say, “You are playing with fire with that sheriff,” she hisses quietly, “And I don’t want to hear about it.”

You shrug defiantly, “Fine, then don’t. Let’s just get our rootbeer floats and not argue for once, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Fine.”

“Perfect.”

“Wonderful.” You seethe, flicking your wrist towards her, ending the quick squabble. You grab the door handle and pull open the door to the diner, stepping to the side to allow your sister to pass, “After you.”

Ruby cuts her eyes towards you and smirks unenthusiastically before she crosses through the threshold. You roll your eyes and follow in behind her, removing your sunglasses and shoving them in your purse as you follow her to the front counter. The two of you sit side by side, Ruby smoothing her hands over her green, pleated swing dress, you waving down the young waiter.

“Afternoon ladies, it’s a hot one, huh?” he asks nicely, smiling at the two of you as he slides menus in your direction.

“It is, thank you,” you start, glancing over the menu, “I think I’m going to have a burger and fries, with a rootbeer float.”

“Great choice, and you, Ruby?”

She smiles, handing her menu back to him, “An olive loaf sandwich please. Potato chips, and a rootbeer float as well.”

“I’ll have it right up ladies.”

He disappears into the back and you and Ruby fall into your usual rhythm, practically ignoring each other. The front door chimes as a group of women move inside, their giggles filling the relatively quiet diner. You eye them as they move by, catching the glance of one Dottie Bodecker, your arch nemesis since grade school. Her blonde hair swings back and forth behind her head as she smiles at you, wiggling her manicured fingers as her group moves to the end of the long bar, taking up four seats.

“So Dottie,” you hear one of the brunettes start, “Do you think tonight’s the night? You think Sheriff Barnes is going to ask you to go with him to his re-election fundraiser?”

You flick your eyes towards them, drawing in a deep breath at the sound of his name. Dottie turns her head towards you, her blue eyes linking with yours where she smiles quickly before turning back to her friends, “I think so.” She answers cheerfully, another giggle escaping her lips, “We have been getting so close lately. I really think he’s gonna ask me to start going steady.”

You scoff loudly before laughter falls from your lips. Ruby hits your leg underneath the counter as you pull out a cigarette and place it between your lips, lighting it. You feel their eyes on you as you flick the butt of the cigarette, ridding it of the ash that’s built up and take another slow drag. You keep your eyes forward, not wanting to engage because you know if you engage -

“Here we go ladies,” the waiter says, cutting through your thoughts, “A burger and fries, an olive loaf with potato chips, and two rootbeer floats. Enjoy.”

Heat blooms across your skin as anger starts to brim just below the surface. You and Dottie have had the same common goal for almost six months - Sheriff James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes. The anger in you makes you start to wonder why the two of you are warring over him in the first place. He’s ten years older than the both of you, has a nasty divorce behind him, and by the sight of his tummy, he’s enjoyed one too many slices of Ambrosia cake. To you and Dottie though, he might as well be Marlon Brando.

It’s the way his eyes crinkle at the sides when he smiles. The way his nose scrunches when he smiles really big. It’s the softness in his voice when he says your name. The shyness that controls him whenever he’s come to bring you a flower. It’s the way he’s a dreamer - how he promises you a little house out in the middle of nowhere, complete with a white picket fence and a golden retriever. A couple of kids. A big old bed where he promises to always keep you pleased.

He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen - the softest and the sweetest too.

“Just relax and eat your food.” Ruby whispers, squeezing your knee, “She’s just trying to get your goat.”

You flick the butt of your cigarette again, ���Well, she fucking got it.” You sigh, grabbing a french fry and biting it angrily.

Dottie continues to gab to her friends loudly, Bucky and I this, Bucky and I that - deep down you know it’s bullshit. He spends too much time sniffing around you to give her the type of attention she’s trying to convince her friends of, but it still gets under your skin. You eat slowly, your lips pursed, your eyes staring a hole into the wall in front of you, your hearing absolutely piqued.

“Did I tell you he drove me home from work the other day?” Dottie says, running her hand over her ponytail as her lips curl into another smile behind her red painted lips, “He even stayed for dinner.”

“Well, your meatloaf is to die for, Dottie. He would have been crazy not to stay!”

You cut your eyes over towards them again just as Dottie leans into her friends, glancing around to see if anyone is listening (as if she honestly cares), “Did I also mention that he stayed the night?”

You slam your balled fist onto the counter, rattling the plates and cups and silverware that sit on the bar. All four heads of Dottie’s group snap towards you, Ruby’s eyes going wide as her mouth drops open.

“Is everything okay, hun?” Dottie asks sweetly, venom dripping from every word.

You lift your hand and plaster a fake smile on your face, scrunching your nose as you shrug, “I’m quite alright, Dottie. Just um, dropped my fork is all.”

“Oh,” she laughs a little, placing her gloved hand to her chest, “That must be a heavy fork.”

“Not as heavy as my fist will be against your -”

“We’re fine,” Ruby cuts in, a bright smile on her face as she nods towards Dottie, “Thank you for askin’, Dottie.”

Dottie smiles again as she tips her head towards Ruby, “You are very welcome, Miss Ruby.”

“Fake ass bitch.” You growl under your breath, prompting a hard pinch on your thigh,”Ow!”

“Just,” Ruby starts, widening her eyes at you, “Eat. Your. Food.”

You take another angry bite of your french fry and cut your eyes towards the glass door, staring out onto the street as you flick your cigarette again. Sheriff James Buchanan Barnes has no idea what he’s just gotten himself into.

-----

You sway your hips back and forth as your hair falls into your face. The music is loud, thumping even, as Ruby and her band plays up on the stage. An arm is thrown around your waist, pulling your closer as the two of you dance - chest to back, hips tucked into your behind. You laugh as you throw your arm around his neck and dip down low, a wider smile breaking onto your face as he moves with you.

The two of you push back up where you spin around to face him, grabbing the hem of your dress and pulling it up on your thighs as you continue to shake your hips. You throw the material of your expensive, new dress, and then swish it around, before you drop it to raise your hands in the air and spin back around.

That’s when you see them.

Those eyes.

Those deep set, deep blue orbs that always seem to find you when in the middle of a crowd. His lips are set in a hard line, his cheeks red, his jaw tight. He sucks his teeth as he leans his elbow on the bar. He blinks, slowly, cutting his eyes towards the bartender just long enough to grab the shot that’s handed to him before they are back on you, watching you grind against the stranger behind you.

Too damn bad for him.

You grab the man’s hand and pull it tighter around your waist, keeping your smaller hand on top of his as you dip slowly down to the floor again - your eyes never leaving the sheriff’s. You break the eye contact with him to glance over your shoulder as a devilish smile curls onto your painted lips as the two of you dance, your lips dangerously close to his. You push your behind into his hips and laugh when the man hoots and hollers before clapping his hands to the beat of the music.

You flick your eyes back to the sheriff’s just as he downs the brown liquid in the small glass in his hands and slams it on the counter, immediately asking for another. You smirk and wink at him before you turn in the man’s hands that are currently around your waist and away from the hard, angry eyes bearing into you.

“Boo!”

You spin to the side when a finger presses into your side and shriek when you come face to face with your little sister, “Leti!” You shout, wrapping your arms around her neck and swaying her back and forth, “I thought y’all said you wouldn’t be back from Chicago until next week! Tic! Come here!”

You release her to throw your arms around Leti’s boyfriend, Atticus Freeman’s neck, having to stand on your tiptoes to hug him tightly as he chuckles in your ear, “We just decided to cut it short, that’s all.” He answers.

“Yeah, right,” you smile, slapping him gently on his shoulder, “You two got into some trouble up there, didn’t you?”

“Never!” Leti exclaims as she smiles mischievously, holding up her hand, “And that’s scouts honor. Listen,” she says, glancing over her shoulder back towards the bar, “I’ve heard from a few people already. They’re saying that the sheriff is asking about you at the bar.”

“Well,” You wave her off, “You can tell them to tell him to mind his goddamn business.”

“Girl, you’ve got that man seething over there!” Tic laughs, “Askin’ how you know this fool,” he says, pointing towards your dancing partner, “What his name is, when he got into town, how long you been here tonight…”

You shrug defiantly, batting your eyes at the pair of people in front of you, “Not my problem.”

“You’ve got your nerve!” Leti laughs, “Who in their right mind antagonizes the goddamn sheriff?”

“The very same one who dates the goddamn sheriff.” Tic says, shaking his head, “Y’all’s mama gave y’all balls of steel.”

Leti rolls her eyes but smiles widely, grabbing your wrists and pulling you deeper into the mass of people. The three of you dance the hours away as Ruby keeps the small club rocking. You’re covered in a thin sheen of sweat, out of cigarettes, and slightly tipsy when Tic wants to get you and Leti home, so you relent without a fight.

You push out into the night air, the breeze instantly cooling your balmy skin. You giggle as Leti mumbles in your ear and take a few steps into the alley before you stop dead in your tracks. Sheriff Bucky leans against the brick building, his head turned towards the street but snapping back to you when he hears your familiar laughter. He pushes away from the wall and places his hands on his hips and utility belt where he taps his nervous, angry fingers.

He clears his throat and takes a deep breath, pushing it out of his nostrils harshly as he turns his head towards the building again, trying and failing to maintain a calm demeanor, “Tic, I wasn’t um, I wasn’t aware you were back in town. Welcome home, soldier.”

Tic shifts his eyes to you before he nods towards Bucky and takes his extended hand, ��Thank you sheriff, that’s uh, that’s mighty kind of you.”

“You’re a brave man, fighting for this country. You let me know if anybody gives you any trouble, you hear? Ms. Lewis, how are you this evening?”

“Mighty fine, sheriff. Thanks for askin’.” Leti answers, offering him a soft smile. She knows what it’s like to be on the ass end of one of your fits.

You stare at him as he nods slowly, clearing his throat again before he shifts his eyes back to you. You cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head as you blink at him slowly and let out a hard breath. He drops his eyes down your body, then snaps them back up to yours, his lip slightly snarled the entire time.

He points at you quickly, before he drops his hand back to his belt and glances back at the building, “May I speak to you, please?” he asks, clearing his throat again.

“What for?”

He chuckles lightly, widening his eyes as he drops them to your feet, “You know what for.” he snaps, still tapping his fingers against his hips, “Please.”

You glance at Leti and Tic, whose eyes have settled on you after the quick tennis match between you and Bucky. You sigh again, “I’ll meet you guys at home, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Leti whispers, pushing up closer to you, “He looks mad.”

You roll your eyes, “I can handle him. I’ll be fine.”

Leti grabs Tic’s hand and moves past Bucky, “Have a good night, sheriff.”

“You as well, Ms. Lewis.” He glances over his shoulder as Tic and Leti move down the alley, and only turns back to face you once they’ve turned the corner, “You stood me up.” He spits angrily, pointing at you again.

You shrug, indifference written on your face, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean!” he hisses, taking a few steps towards you, “Damn it, I waited forty five minutes for you.”

“You get out of my face.” you scoff, pushing his shoulders roughly.

“So I spend all day worrying about you, only to find you here with some jerk’s hands all over you!”

You laugh, rolling your eyes, “Spent all day worrying about me, did you? That’s rich.”

“Okay,” he barks, nodding quickly as he chews on the inside of his cheek, “What is it? Huh? What did I do now?”

“Like you don’t know.”

“I don’t know! Please! Enlighten me.”

You cross your arms over your chest again, staring down the alley. You feel his eyes staring into the side of your face, waiting for you to speak.

“Answer me, damn it!”

“Why don’t you ask Dottie Bodecker what you did wrong?” you hiss, snapping your head back to face him.

His face contorts in confusion, his shoulders slumping slightly, “Dottie Bodecker? The fuck she have to do with anything?”

“Her meatloaf is to die for, isn’t it?”

He rolls his eyes and throws his hands up dramatically, turning and taking a few steps away from you. He spins back around seconds later, shaking his head, “If you don’t start saying what you mean, girl!”

“You slept with Dottie Bodecker a few nights back and I’m done letting you make a fool a’ me!” you scream as your eyes squint hard.

You brush past him, bumping his shoulder as you start down the alley, walking fast as you huff, the anger bubbling. You hear his heavy feet behind you, his keys jingling as he wraps his fingers around your bicep. You shrug away from him and whirl around, pointing your thin finger in his face, “Don’t you touch me.”

“I did not sleep with Dottie Bodecker!” He hisses, “Where are you getting that load of shit from?”

“From Dottie herself. She told the entire diner this afternoon!”

“Well she’s full of it!” He shouts back, “I didn’t touch that woman!”

“But you drove her home from work?” You ask, antagonizing him, raising your eyebrows and crossing your arms over your chest.

He scoffs, placing his hands on his hips again, “Yes. I drove her home. She flagged me down -” You start walking again, completely uninterested in hearing his sorry ass story, “Goddamn it. Listen to me!” He shouts, grabbing your arm again, “I did not touch that woman. I have never touched her. I promise you.”

“And why should I believe you? Huh?” You ask, breathing hard, your eyes wide and bouncing between his, “Tell me!”

“Because I love you!” He shouts loudly - so loudly that it makes you slam your mouth shut, “Goddamn it!”

You watch as he starts to pace, dragging his hand through his short, dark hair angrily before he drops it to his side. Because I love you! The words bounce around your brain as he places his hands back on his hips.

A hint of a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

That’s the first time he’s said it.

He loves you.

“You know what?” he says after a moment, turning back to face you again, “You want to continue to play games with Dottie, you go right ahead, but you leave me out of it. I have been nothing but good to you, nothing but open, nothing but doting… I’m done, you hear me? Done. Keep playin’ your little goddamn games!”

You click your tongue and roll your eyes again as he walks off, tugging at the leather jacket covering his torso. He can barely zip the damn thing. You sigh and tilt your head as he turns around the front of the building as embarrassment starts to flood through you. Your skin heats up again, but this time from the feeling of turning out to be the asshole, which doesn't happen very often (it probably should.)

The sound of your heels clicking against the concrete bounces off the buildings as you move to the end of the alley, peaking around the corner to find his police car still sitting at the curb. You spot his head resting back on the seat and put your hands behind your back as you walk slowly towards the passenger side. You lean over and glance in the window, finding his eyes closed and his hands on the wheel as he breathes in and out, in and out, in and out.

You glance up and down the street before you knock on the window, “Can I get in?”

“No.”

You click your tongue and let your shoulders slump, “Come on, sheriff.”

You watch as he exhales hard and you have to drop your head so that he can’t see the smile that forms on your lips. He reaches over and pops open the door before he straightens up in the seat, keeping his eyes forward as you slide in next to him. You chew on your lip as you blink over at him, your eyes trailing down his bicep and forearm before you start playing with your fingers.

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly, your voice small and slightly playful.

“I don’t want to hear it.” He answers quick, holding up his hand.

You laugh a little but cover your mouth quickly with your thin fingers as he cuts his eyes towards you. He huffs again and you start to whine, closing your eyes and tilting your head towards the roof, “Sheriff, look at me.”

“No.”

“Come on,” You laugh, “I said I was sorry.”

“And that’s just supposed to make this all better? Right? Just because you said you’re sorry?” he asks softly, turning to face you.

You shrug, dropping your eyes to your fingers again, “Yeah?”

He laughs earnestly at your sheer audacity. You smile, biting down into your bottom lip as you send your eyes toward him, your smile softening at the sight of him. The crinkles are back. His nose is scrunched, his eyes turned into slits as he laughs. You glance down between the two of you and see a bouquet of flowers on the floorboard.

His laughter dies down and he shakes his head as he lets out a sigh, “You are such a stubborn ass.”

“But that’s why you like me, right?”

He looks over at you, his eyes moving around your face, “Maybe.” He answers softly.

You grab his hand and place it in your lap, your thumb rubbing gently over his knuckles. You blink at each other, all of the anger and agitation bleeding out of you both like it wasn’t even there to begin with. He squeezes your hand and rubs the tips of your fingers with his thumb before he leans over to kiss you softly.

You moan, your eyes closing instinctively as his pillow soft lips hit yours for the first time that day. Relief and calm washes through you as he massages your lips with his and loops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You're soon pressed up against his wide chest and body, your hands sliding over his shoulders and to his back. You hug him tightly to you as the intensity builds quickly, his stomach pushing over his belt and pressing into yours. You hum as his thick fingers skip up your thigh, palming your flesh softly.

His lips fall to your neck, his head nudging yours upward to gain full access to your sensitive skin. He sucks lightly, making you tense and moan as a jolt of sensation shoots straight to your sex. You grip his shoulder softly as that wandering hand moves further up your thigh - right into your dress, where his fingertips brush against your warm, tingly sex.

“Sheriff,” You breathe, spreading your legs and pushing your hips forward as you rub his shoulder.

“Yes ma’am?” He answers, his voice low and heady.

“Take me home and take advantage of me, please.”

His chuckle vibrates through your flesh. He nips at your neck, his teeth dragging along your skin, “As much as I’d love to darlin’, I’m on duty.” You groan in dissatisfaction, making him laugh again, “You shouldn’t have blown me off earlier, I could have taken care of you then.”

He pushes your panties to the side and brushes his fingers over your soft skin, where you shiver instantly. He pulls back so that he can watch your face as he pushes between your folds, stroking your slit gently, teasing you with just the tips of his fingers. You hiss and squeeze your legs together, jutting your hips forward to try and coax him inside.

He doesn’t take the bait.

But he wants to.

He glances over his shoulder behind the car and then out in front, finding the streets bare. He can hear the muffled sounds of Ruby’s band still going strong inside the small club. There’s been no calls over the radio in over an hour. He’s got time. He kisses your mouth quickly and pulls his hand from out of your dress to turn the key, bringing the loud engine to life, filling the silent night air with noise.

You push up onto your knees as he pulls away from the curb and throw your arms around his neck, your tongue sneaking out to lick just under his ear. You smile when you feel him shiver from the contact. You plant kisses on the side of his face and along his jaw before you blow softly into his ear, making him jump in his seat. You grab his earlobe with your teeth and pull softly as you drag your hand down his chest and over his soft stomach where you start to fumble with his belt.

The car speeds up suddenly as he jams his foot on the accelerator when your hand slithers into his pants. You laugh when expletives fall from his lips, the car swerving as he struggles to keep his eyes open and on the road in front of you. Pumping him slowly, you grab your bottom lip between your teeth again and rest your forehead against his temple. You breathe heavily into his ear, humming and moaning as you stroke him quickly, your thumb brushing over his sensitive tip.

Bucky weaves you through the empty town and finally pulls up behind the police station, blending in with the small fleet of exactly two other police cars. He loops his arm around your waist again, pulling you closer - sitting you down on the seat. He grabs your calves and throws them over his thighs and rucks your dress up around your waist. He slips his fingers underneath the band of your panties and pulls roughly, slipping them right down your legs and over your heels to throw them into the backseat.

You squeak when his thick digits push into you, his thumb flattening against your clit. He starts to pump, slow and deep, his blue eyes scanning your face as he drags in air through his open mouth. You roll your hips into his hand as he strokes your walls and teases your clit, you hooking your arm around his neck. You sit up straighter and push your chest into his side, keeping one leg thrown over his thigh, and placing the other on the floorboard - leaving you spread open.

He kisses you quickly, moaning and then hissing as your hand continues to push along his shaft. He brushes his nose against yours, his warm breath washing over your face as you nuzzle right back into him, your mouth falling open as he curls his fingers inside of you.

“God, sheriff,” You rasp, your hand halting as he strokes your insides.

“What was that, darlin’?” He whispers, his words full but languid, “What’s my name, sweetheart?”

You tense, pushing your body up the back of the seat as you squeak again, his fingers pushing deeper and harder. You buck your hips into his hand, throwing your head back, your hair tickling the exposed skin of your back, “Oh, sheriff.” you pant.

“That’s right, you sweet little thing,” He coos, “You fuck my fingers, sweetheart.”

You hum before licking your lips slowly, “I want more than your fingers, sheriff,” you say, your words rushed and hot. You lean forward and kiss him hard, placing your hands on either side of his full face, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks.

You pull away after only a few seconds, dragging in ragged breaths, your chest heaving hard. Reaching behind your back, you pull on the zipper of your dress, the material falling away from your body - leaving you naked.

Bucky inhales sharply.

You lay back on the seat, wrapping your legs around his waist as he twists and leans over you. He reaches out and places his hand in the center of your chest, right between your breasts and just leaves it there for a second as he blinks. You arch your back, rolling your shoulders and head when he sweeps his fingers down your sternum, stopping at your belly button. You grab his hand and bring it to your right breast, cupping your supple flesh as you force your back away from the seat again and suck the tip of his index finger into your mouth.

He pulls his hand away reluctantly - but keeps his eyes on you as he shrugs out of his leather jacket. He blinks slowly, pulling his eyes down your smooth, brown skin as his fingers work out the knot of his tie. He loosens it quickly and pulls off the thin clip before he yanks the tie over his head and discards it to the floor. He flattens his palm on the inside of your thigh and pushes it down to your sex, massaging you again as his free hand pops the buttons of his shirt.

Your mouth drops open as you purr at the sensations rippling through you as he touches you, his fingers soft and slow, “Bucky,” you keen.

He hears the desperation - the ache - the trembling need in your voice. He wants to satisfy it. All of it. All of you. He pushes his pants low on his hips, down to his knees before he adjusts his position between your legs, leaning over you further. You grip his sides as his stomach rests against yours, his cock pushing at your entrance.

His eyes wander again, away from your face and down your virtuous body, knowing he and he alone has been the only man to boast its yield, “You’re beautiful.” The words slip off his tongue like silk. He means it.

“You’re beautiful.” You return quickly, running your hands down his soft, wide chest.

You know he doesn’t believe it when you say it. Out loud, in this vulnerable position. All of him on display. Every little roll and crevasse for you to see - he isn’t Tic. He isn’t six foot something, with cannons for arms and a washboard stomach. He’s just a man, a simple man, in love with a beautiful, bold, mischievous woman.

You dig your fingers into his flesh as he enters you, spreading you. You thrust your chest towards his as you slam your eyes closed, gasping at the fullness - the completeness - you feel. Your body starts to lunge upward, your breasts pushing with the movement. His weight leaves you as he sits back on his knees, his hips still prodding as he draws your leg up onto his chest and shoulder, dropping kisses on your ankle.

There’s fingers around your throat, squeezing gently before they venture up your chin and into your mouth. You accept them willingly as he flattens his free hand to your chest again. You stretch your arm forward, slinking your thin digits up his arm to his bicep as his hips push, push, push into yours. Soft. Deliberate. Slow. Ravishing you in the only way you know - the only way you want.  

The pressure builds in your stomach, steady and purposed. He knows it - he knows you. So, he grabs your hips, pulls them closer, your legs falling over his thighs, your feet sliding along the old leather seat as he fucks you. He leans over you again, knowing you like his weight on you. He digs his hips into yours - his cock plunging into your soft, accepting cunt as he watches you. Mouth hanging. Lips red. Breath heavy.

It’s a rhythm. An intricate dance the two of you have perfected over time. Pushing and pulling. Giving and taking. The windows are foggy with the heat your bodies have created - your skin damp; balmy. Little droplets of sweat beading between your breasts. His tongue is quick to rid you of them, the droplets, pushing out from behind his lips to lap at your skin. He’d do anything to please you.

Fingers tweak your thick nipples. Rough palms grip your hips. Deep groans, low hisses fill your ears. Soft words, pretty designations falling from his lips. Affirmations of love.

“I love you,” you pant, your words shuddering with each breath, “Bucky, I-”

“I know it, doll. I know it.”

You choke suddenly as the fire spreads without warning. Your orgasm rushes through you, burning a familiar path through your wilderness. Bucky fucks harder as you come - the sound of his skin slapping against yours growing louder, his grip on your hips harder.

He loves to hear you. Crying, screeching, mewling, howling as his body peels you apart, layer by layer. He loves to watch you - shuddering and trembling, hips jerking, toes curling. It’s all he needs, all he wants. He wraps his fingers loosely around your throat again and lets himself go, strained grunts accompanying your ungodly sounds as he starts to spurt over and over.

You flatten your feet against the seat and push your hips upward - still gasping, still jerking uncontrolled as the synapses continue to fire. The additional warmth he provides as he spills into you electrifies you. No other man will know the depths of you, will fill you with his seed. You’re ruined - and you like it that way.

He collapses on top of you when he can’t hold himself up any longer. Soft skin against soft skin. You instantly corral him in your arms, pushing your dainty fingers into his soft, brown hair as he nuzzles into your neck. Breath still hard and hot. You're sticky and he’s sticky, a satisfied haze drifting into your eyes and brain, lulling you.

He pulls you up with him seconds later, his eyes darting around the empty, quiet parking lot, glancing out the back before he scans through the windshield. He pulls his pants back up over his hips and reaches into the backseat to grab the blanket he keeps stowed away, wrapping it around you. He pulls you close, slinking that long arm around your shoulder and pushing his nose against yours as a lazy smile covers his face.

You hum happily as you rest your hand on his stomach, rubbing his full tummy softly with your finger tips, “Tell me about that big ol’ bed again,” you whisper, nuzzling into his face and nose with yours.

“Mmm,” he hums, smiling softly, “It’s called a California King. They make ‘em for all those stars out there in Hollywood.” You giggle, and his smile broadens, “I’m gonna get you one of those beds, I promise you.”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

“I do. Although,”

“Although, what?”

“I don’t want you drivin’ Dottie anywhere anymore.”

He chuckles. The tips of his fingers brush over your naked shoulder and then dance down your arm, “She just wants what she can’t have. She’s jealous a’ you.”

“I know it.”

“Then don’t pay her no mind, girl. I mean it.” A silence drops over the two of you for a few minutes before he says, “I won’t drive her anywhere without tellin’ you. Okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise. I’m sorry.”

You smile as you rest your head against his, letting your eyes close as sleep starts to pull you in. You feel him grab your fingers, pulling them away from his body as he starts to fumble around, slipping his arms back into his uniform. Once he’s dressed, you fall back into him. He wraps his arm around your neck. You place your hand back on his soft, round stomach. He rolls down the window, allowing the warm breeze to caress your skin. Nights like this are the best. You don’t know how you could be so stupid. You know he loves you.

You’ve always known.

“I’ma get you that little house over there on Pleasant drive, you know it?” he asks, daydreaming again, “We’ll get married -” You scoff, “What?”

“Married?” You ask skeptically, rolling your head on his shoulder as you keep your eyes closed.

“Yes. Married.”

“How are you going to be the law in this town if you’re steady breaking it?”

He chuckles, “You don’t listen to the news?”

“No,” You say softly, squeezing him tighter as you let out a breath, “Too depressin’.”

“Well,” He starts, dropping kisses to the top of your head, “Richard and Mildred Loving are fighting hard for people like you and me.” You open your eyes and blink slowly, watching as the wind plays the branches of the trees across the street as he continues, “They’ll overturn those bullshit laws - just you watch. I’ll marry you the very next day, right here in the middle of town.”

“You think?”

“I think, what?”

“They’ll overturn ‘em?”

“They have to. The world’s too big for that small minded, backwoods bullshit now.”

“And then you’ll buy me that house over there on Pleasant Drive?”

“Mmhmm.”

“And then get me one of those big old beds, what you call it?”

“A California King.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Sure will.”

“And then?”

He takes a breath before he sweeps his nose along yours again, brushing the tips together, “And then we’ll be together until we grow old and grey. I’ll probably be four hundred pounds by then, but.”

He chuckles as you pinch him, making him squirm from the sharp pain, “Stop it.” You warn.

“Look at me now! I’m well on my way.”

“I like you just how you are.” You say simply.

“I suppose you do.”

“I do.”

You barely have to push in to grab his lips as the two of you are already so close. You moan softly when they meet. That arm around your neck tightens, keeping you close - oh so close. You don’t tell him right away, but you like those daydreams of his. The house on Pleasant Drive, the big old bed, the wedding in the middle of town. You dream about them every night and wake up with them every morning. You don’t ever tell him though, because you’re the practical one. He’s the dreamer - and you like it that way.

You still don’t even tell him on the day he makes them all come true. How much you like those dreams of his.

[kenzumekodma]

18+ only, minors do not interact

pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader, politician au

warnings: power imbalance, degradation, oral (m receiving), fingering, cum swallowing, finger sucking, teensiest bit of praise, one instance of canadian spelling

summary: if this was going to happen, you might as well commit to it. there were worse people to fuck on a monday morning than shouto todoroki.

wc: 2.5k

His father’s the highest ranking politician in the prefecture, you remind yourself. Just grit your teeth and bear it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Shouto. No, he didn’t like you, was more like it. Ever since you took on the job as his assistant you’ve shouldered this feeling that absolutely seeped from him, this feeling that he was inherently superior to you and you were nothing. A means to an end.

At first his quiet indifference bothered you, but as the weeks wore into months, into nearly a year… really you just stopped giving a shit. Sure, you’d gone into this job bright eyed and bushy tailed, answering with a quick yes sir, no sir to any questions he asked you. Slowly, though, your energy dropped, your output matching Shouto’s.

Coming into your work anniversary, a time when you’d imagined you’d be kicking your feet up for a night and enjoying a lighter workload, if not a night off, you walked into the office to a more chaotic scene. You groaned into the plastic lid of your to-go coffee. The hot liquid was your only saving grace. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath through your nose, steeled yourself as you held it for a few seconds, and then exhaled through your mouth, lips closed into a small ‘o’. With renewed nerves, you open your eyes and walk into the elevator, making your way towards Mr. Todoroki’s office.

Large solid walnut doors met you a few short strides away from the elevator. Balancing your coffee, Mr. Todoroki’s tea, and your work bag precariously but with the confidence that comes with practice as you turned the brushed bronze handle. As expected, Mister Perfect was sat behind his desk. Larger than it really needs to be, you thought, like so many things tend to be when you’re living off the bank of Daddy’s Popularity.

“What’s all the fuss about downstairs?” you asked, setting Shouto’s tea down on the coaster he had waiting for it, just like he had every day for a year. He shrugged.

“Elections are coming up. My old man wants me to run for a seat on council.”

You nodded. “And that’s why I woke up to an email this morning from Endeavor offices saying Mr. Todoroki Sr. is scheduled to come by at 10:30 today with exactly zero context.” Shoto nodded once.

“There’s no point in stopping him. He has the knowledge and I need it, I guess.”

You sighed, resigned to planning a last minute visit for the man who’s effectively your boss’s boss.

“It’s too bad,” he started, pausing to take a sip of tea. Deadpan expression still resting on your face, you quirk a brow at him, a silent what? hanging in the air. “Too bad that my old man will have to see you like this. You’ve changed since he hired you for me,” Shoto said as he stood, tea placed flawlessly in the centre of its coaster. He stalked around the desk, getting ever closer to you. Instinctively, you went to place your coffee on the desk, but you caught yourself, putting your work bag on the floor, bending to pick up your planner from it. You missed Shouto’s eyes grazing down the back of your form, hesitating at your thighs, where their plushness was accentuated by the hem of your tight, light grey skirt digging in slightly. You slid your planner onto the luxury desk, using it as a makeshift coaster for your cup.

The corner of Shouto’s lip turned up almost imperceptibly. “You used to be so polite, y/n.” He took another step towards you and you froze in confusion.

“I…” you trailed off.

“You what?” he goaded, getting closer to you again. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the aforementioned not giving a shit, maybe it was the surprise stress of Enji Todoroki’s insistence on the election, but you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding and speak your mind to your boss for the first time.

“I just, I know that you think of me as lesser, and it’s true. I am. I know that, you know that. You’re political royalty and I’m just trying to make rent. So what’s the point in trying to get you to respect me with pretty words?”

“Lesser, is that so?” he murmured. He was upon you now, slender hand reaching out to take your chin between his thumb and the knuckle of his forefinger. A mixture of confidence and careful carelessness swirled behind Shouto’s heterochromatic eyes. Bicoloured hair slipped from its place to frame his sculpted cheekbones as he looked down at you.

“I’m a means to your end, and likewise for you. If we’re going to use each other we should feel good too, right? Now, wouldn’t you say the best place for inferior little girls like you is on their knees?” His eyes flickered to your lips, to your eyes, to your lips again. The last three honeyed words dripped from his lips and straight to your panties making you clench around nothing. The span of four minutes and he’d already flipped everything you thought about him on its head.

In your doe-eyed stupor you hadn’t even noticed how fucking wet you’d gotten although it was undeniable when your thighs rubbed together as you shifted your weight back and forth.

“Well?” Shouto asked, voice quiet. You nodded, bringing his hand up and down with your face. He patted your cheek. “That’s what I thought. Down,” he commanded. Shame rose in you as you dropped to the floor, flush crawling up your neck making you feel as red as half of your boss’s hair.

You looked up at him for further instruction to see him unbuttoning the top two buttons of his expensive linen shirt. Instinctively you lifted your hands to unbuckle his designer belt, but he swatted them away.

“What makes you think you’re worthy of touching anything of mine? This costs more than your salary,” he sneered.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“Sorry what?”

“Sorry, Mr. Todoroki,” you corrected yourself.

“Not quite. Try again,” he tutted. You felt the heat rise from your neck to your cheeks, causing you to turn your gaze downward.

“Sorry, Sir,” you mumbled.

“I can’t hear you all the way down there. Speak up,” Shouto demanded.

“I, I’m sorry Sir,” you said, louder this time and with more confidence. If this was going to happen, you figured you might as well commit to it. There were worse people to fuck on a Monday morning than Shouto Todoroki.

“Better,” he said approvingly. He slipped his buckle and belt off with ease, unbuttoning his charcoal grey slacks. Your eyes followed his hands downwards and it finally hit you just how big of a dick print was practically staring you in the face. He pulled up the once tucked in shirt tails and bunched them up around his toned stomach. Agony, his pace freeing his cock was absolute agony. His length was impressive, on the longer side of anyone you’d been with before. And his girth. It was a lot like the man himself, surprisingly thick but beautiful. The vein running along the underside of his cock made your mouth water with anticipation.

He let it out of his hand and it rested heavily on your lips.

“Please, Sir…” you said, licking your lips just enough to tease him with the sensation of your tongue. Shouto bit back a groan but nodded his head. You gave his cock an exploratory lick up the underside. A low noise rumbled in his chest, which you took as encouragement to continue. Hesitantly, you lifted a hand up to his waist and dragged your nails down his abdomen lightly, causing him to weave his fingers through your hair and grip tightly. God forbid the political Prince Charming be anything but in charge.

He guided your head up an inch or so. Holding his length in his other hand, he tapped the flushed tip against your cherry lips and you comply, parting them without a thought in your head besides Shouto’s cock. You close your mouth around his head and suck lightly, savouring the ever so slightly salty taste of his precum against your tongue. Shouto guided your head back for a better view.

He’s been watching and waiting for months, wondering what your lips would look like wrapped around him with every sharp barb that rolled off your tongue. The reality of it was better than he’d imagined. The silky wetness of your mouth just fueled his lust further. What would your sweet pussy feel like around him? Would you let him in?

His facade faltered, and he bucked his hips into you. Your throat tightened around him and your eyes watered. Something in the way he treated you ignited a fierce competition within you. If his actions were a challenge, you took it and one upped him, taking as much of him as possible. Your nose nuzzled into the base of his cock, taking in the musky scent of his sex with every breath you tried to take. Bracing yourself with your hands on his chest, you swallowed around him. Shouto shudders and his fingers leave your scalp. He pets your hair gently, and for a split second as you looked up at him with curiosity, you saw genuine fondness written across his face. Whatever prompted it, he shoved it aside and gripped your wrists together in his larger hand, pinning them against him above your head.

His movement took you by surprise. Surprises normally caused dread to pool in your tummy. This particular surprise caused arousal to bubble inside instead, it caused you to rub your thighs together as best you could for just a tiny bit, any bit of delicious friction you could get. It wasn’t enough, and you let out a half moan, half whine sound that vibrated up Shouto’s cock.

“Pretty girl’s a little slut, huh? Likes being helpless? Keep going.” he sneered at you.

You nodded as best as you could without letting off of his dick, drool pooling at the sides of your mouth. God, the absolute debauchery of what this man would have you do for him, it made your thighs clench. Desperation evident in your actions, you moan around him, moving yourself as much as your tight little skirt would allow. Shouto shuddered and took your jaw in his fine, slender hand.

“Enough,” he hissed, pulling your mouth off of his cock. His breath came in shallow pants, the only tell that he was as affected as you were. The way you licked your lips as soon as they were unoccupied made him bite back a moan. You looked fucking delicious in that moment, a summer fruit ripe for the picking.

“Up,” he commanded. You tried your best to stand up with your balance off kilter. Really, Shouto ended up pulling you to your feet more than anything else. He turned you around, advanced on you until your ass was bumping against his desk, and then he took one step further, leaving you no choice but to shimmy up onto the surface.

“Is… is this okay?” you asked, and Shouto let out a chuckle.

“You’re just asking that now? I should be asking you instead,” he said. He leaned down and latched his lips onto your neck. “Well?” he murmured into your skin, fingers dancing at the hem of your skirt. “You wanna be my own little whore?”

“Yes… please, Sir,” you whimpered. That’s all he needed to hear to lift you up just enough to slide your skirt past the swell of your ass, letting it bunch up around your waist. He probed a finger along your covered slit. He stops at the wet patch over your aching core.

“Excited, are we?” he teases, moving your panties to the side and circling his finger around your hole, stopping just shy of dipping inside. “Tell me who this belongs to.”

“‘s yours, Sir. ‘s all yours, I’m all yours, belong to you, please, wanna be full,” you whined.

“That’s right, this belongs to me. I’m gonna take what’s mine,” he said. You didn’t know whether he meant your sopping wet pussy or your whole self but at that point you were ready to give him anything he asked for just for him to touch you, to make you cum. You let out a choked moan when he slid his middle finger unceremoniously into your fluttering walls, no longer clenching around nothing. Even one finger was a stretch for you. Not like he cared to let you get too used to it, he was more occupied with the idea of getting you to come undone on his hand.

He added a second finger and began rubbing your clit with his thumb. The urgent moans of his name and Sir, please careening from your lips sounded like the sweetest sonata he would ever hear.

“Please what?” he asked.

“Please, wanna… need to… please lemme cum,” you begged, head pressed forward into his chest.

“Let me cum, what?” Shouto goaded. “Just because you’re being fucked dumb doesn’t mean you get to forgo your manners. Remember your lesson?” he tutted, curling his finger into your bundle of nerves.

“Please, let me cum, Sir,” you gasped out.

“Go on, then. Cum.”

Your already tight muscles contracted around his fingers desperately as he stroked your spongy walls to your release. You came with a broken yelp, earning a look of smug satisfaction from the man looming over you.

He scissored his fingers once more, just to hear you mewl from the overstimulation of your fucked out cunt, your eyes scrunched shut to keep yourself grounded. The feeling of his messy fingers tapping at your bottom lip had you opening your mouth obediently.

“Keep it open,” he ordered. You opened your eyes to see Shouto had led you back onto your knees in front of him. His free hand fisted his cock inches from your face. You opened your mouth wider and looked up at him through your lashes.

“Fuck…” he groaned. Just a few more thrusts and he was painting the inside of your mouth and his fingers white with his cum.

“Close,” he said, and you close your mouth. “Clean it up.”

You sucked gently on his fingers, making sure to swirl your tongue around his knuckles and his nails, wanting nothing more than to please him, to be privy to that little bit of softness and praise you were sure he hid away for special occasions.

When his fingers were free of the mixture of your releases, he slid his fingers from your mouth and took your chin in his hand. He tilted your head to look him in the eye.

“Good girl,” he cooed. Heat rose to your cheeks at his praise, and he helped you to your feet again.

No sooner than you’d rearranged your clothing came a knock to the huge walnut doors, a deep voice booming from the other side.

“Shouto?”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 290: It’s Touya Time

Previously on BnHA: Iida and Hadou showed up like a couple of Pennsylvanias and Georgias to bail Shouto out at the last minute. Ochako and Toga had an exceptionally strange fight which consisted of Toga being all “guess what Ochako, I used your quirk to murder someone, how do you feel about that”, and Ochako being all “I do not like that”, to which Toga was all “:(”. There was some doll-stealing and some bookcase-yeeting, and then Toga left in tears because Ochako was all adamant that murder has consequences. Anyway so I have absolutely no idea what Toga is thinking now, but I guess we’ll have some time to stew on it, because we ended the chapter by cutting back to the Iida+Hadou+Shouto VS Afomura battle, which was interrupted by Gigantomachia and the LoV showing up like a bunch of Floridas to ruin everyone’s nice day.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi hands the mic over to Dabi and is all “take it away, kid.” Over in Room 315 of Musutafu General, Rei is all “may I please watch some TV” and the hospital staff is all “sure”, and so she tunes in just in time to catch Todoroki Touya’s Peabody Award-winning documentary “Number One Hero, Number One Fraud: The Todoroki Enji Story”, which is being broadcast nationwide courtesy of Skeptic and his magic laptop. Meanwhile in Jakku, Dabi is all “I’M TOUYA, BITCHES”, and Shouto and Enji are all, “(゜◇゜ )���, and Dabi is all, “anyway so just to sum it all up, because of how much of a jerk Endeavor was, I am now Evil.” Everyone continues to be all “(ﾟoﾟ)” except for Dabi, who is all “└(˘▾˘┌ )≡ ( ┐˘▾˘)┘≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛≡┏( ˘▾˘)┓≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛” for pretty much the rest of the chapter. Idk. Just let the man have his fun, guys. He’s waited a long time for this.

y’all I have a confession to make. I am technically not spoiled for this chapter thanks to my robustly paranoid system of spoiler-tag-filtering, which is extensive enough that it pretty much will catch whenever someone so much as breathes something even remotely new-chapter-related. that being said, I like to think that I am capable of making basic logical inferences! and so the fact that for the past 36 hours, my dashboard has pretty much nonstop consisted almost entirely of this...

...has led me to conclude that MAYBE, POSSIBLY, PROBABLY, BUT ALSO DEFINITELY, a certain someone is finally going to reveal his ~secret identity~ woop woop. lmao

anyway so everyone, please remember to act surprised though, as we would not want Dabi’s feelings to be hurt at all. he has been planning this moment for the last decade or so and I wouldn’t want him to feel like all of that effort was for naught. so just play along, okay. OH MY, IF IT ISN’T THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS’ MYSTERIOUS DABI. WHATEVER COULD HIS ARRIVAL POSSIBLY BE HERALDING, I JUST DON’T KNOW

“Dabi’s Dance” lmao. I’m sticking with Touya Time myself. ngl I had this recap title planned out for at least the past year or so. just waiting for that day to finally come

anyway so some people in some building somewhere are all “TURN OFF THE TV IN ROOM 315” and idk. I’m guessing the LoV is hacking the airwaves to livestream the reveal, as predicted

-- oh shit. UHHHHHHHH

did she always have this TV or did she get it just recently?? jfc of all the times for the hospital staff to finally loosen up

um... so that’s... (・＿・；)

well but I mean, she was gonna find out one way or the other at some point though. like you can’t really just keep her locked up and isolated from all news of the outside world forever and ever and ever. granted, this isn’t exactly the ideal way for her to learn this particular bit of information, but it’s not really ideal for anybody else either! EXCEPT DABI, THAT IS. have yourself a day you funky little terrorist

oh shit what is this?? it’s not live???

over in Jakku, a red-faced, sputtering Dabi makes a frantic grab for Skeptic’s laptop. “WAIT, NO, JESUS, NOT THAT TAPE!”

lol. but seriously Dabi are you even wearing a shirt. like I’m not one to slutshame anyone bro, but it’s just, exactly what type of mood were you looking to set here??

anyway so we really are cutting back to Jakku now, and Gigantomachia is all, “MASTERS”! which, I wonder if he really did use the plural? that’s right Machia, both of them in one place now! that sure is convenient for you huh

lol what is this with all this AFO monologuing. you’re really gonna make me read through this when I’m sitting here all sleep-deprived from election week. JUST GET TO THE TOUYAS. WE WERE PROMISED TOUYAS!!

sigh

“tee hee it’s fucking hilarious how goddamn powerful I am now lol”

alas, in spite of myself I do have two serious takeaways from this. one is that AFO is still controlling most of Tomura’s body behind the scenes, which both does and doesn’t bode well for Tomura (like, at least he’s not dying, but the long-term implications of this for his free will and such certainly are not Good). and two is that this confirms that Ujiko did give Tomura at least one powerful mutant quirk, which explains why he was still so deadly and indestructible even when Aizawa was using Erasure on him (since Erasure doesn’t work on mutant quirks, just emitter and transformation ones)

MEANWHILE ON TODAY’S EPISODE OF “TODOROKI SHOUTO’S TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD LIFE”

I like how he doesn’t actually say that he can’t take on Gigantomachia. just that he can’t take on him and Afomura at the same time. that’s confidence, baby. that right there is why you always draft Todoroki Shouto in the first round for your fantasy team

HADOU!!!!

OOOH, TOMURA’S ALL “MAN, THIS GIRL’S WAVE POWERS AND THIS KID’S ICE POWERS ARE A SUPER-STRONG COMBO DAGNABBIT.” YESSS I LIKE THAT, TELL ME MORE ABOUT HOW COOL AND POWERFUL THEY ARE

HOT DAMN LOOK AT THAT

um but not to take away from this exceptionally cool moment or anything, but why is Endeavor dying and shouting “RUN” down there in the corner um

oh

excuse me. not to take away from How Bad This All Is, but!!

just a little, smol, IidaBaku for everyone. Iida, who apparently doesn’t know a damn thing about first aid and is all, “hmm that’s a pretty bad-looking puncture wound he has in his left shoulder there, I think I’ll just let his arm dangle freely like that and I won’t bother taking off his heavy gauntlets either. I mean. he’ll be fine, probably.” smh. at least Shouto probably cauterized the wounds

EXCUSE ME WHAT

TIME FOR MORE OF THAT GOOD OLD FASHIONED SHOUNEN RIDICULOUSNESS I GUESS LMAO. KACCHAN YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO. THERE IS A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, AND YOU LOST LIKE FOUR GALLONS OF BLOOD, BUT SURE. “PUT ME DOWN” HE SAYS. FIRST OF ALL, PUTTING ASIDE THE FACT THAT YOU ABSOLUTELY SHOULD NOT BE CONSCIOUS, THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN GOING TO DO, LIE DOWN AT THEM?? LISTEN, YOU SWEET IDIOT. TAKE HEED, BELOVED DUMBASS!!

ah well. I guess he gets to watch the Touya Show now too then lol

LMAOOOO now Machia’s lifting Tomura carefully in his palm like a broken action figure and Spinner is all “THE FUCK, YOU LOOK LIKE DEATH WARMED OVER”

“oh hey there Spinner. well let’s see, I woke up from my three-month coma and destroyed a city, had my body incinerated, and am currently being possessed by a diabolically evil potato. but please, tell me more about everything you've been through”

AW YISS AND THE FOCUS NOW SHIFTS TO THE TODOROKIS. EVERYTHING IS PROCEEDING EXACTLY AS WE HAVE FORESEEN

Endeavor my dude. it’s as if you want to die here. also holy shit, that bit about his lungs definitely does not bode well for him either

MOTHERFUCKER

GO AHEAD AND SIGN YOUR OWN DEATH CERTIFICATE, WHY DON’T YOU!! FLAGS UPON FLAGS. JESUS CHRIST

meanwhile Dabi’s just waving at ‘em

lmaoooo please oh please Caleb please keep this ‘EYYYYYYY’, it’s fucking perfect kdlshk;hg

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: so as you will see very shortly, I completely missed this detail in my first read-through because I was so anxious to get to the reveal page, but THIS MOTHERFUCKER LITERALLY DOUSED HIMSELF WITH INSTANT HAIR DYE REMOVER THAT HE’S JUST BEEN CARRYING AROUND IN A LITTLE HIP POUCH APPRENTLY SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIME. MOTHERFUCKER. I HAVE NO WORDS.)

IS THIS THE TIME. IS THIS THE MOMENT?! HERE IT COMES SLKFHS BRACE YERSELVES LADS

EYYYYYYYYYYYY

OKAY EVERYONE JUST LIKE WE PRACTICED!! SURPRISED FACES ON THREE! ONE... TWO... (•̪ o •̪) !! okay how was that

LMAO ENDEAVOR

at least Shouto looks properly stunned. Enji just looks like endeavor.exe just straight up stopped working

meanwhile Deku’s out here trying to do the math on this latest surprise family reveal! first Tomura is related to Nana, and now this. what’s next. who are you related to, Spinner. he rips off his boots to reveal engine legs and declares himself Iida’s long-lost uncle

oh shit Touya

it’s as if a million fanworks suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly jossed. who knew that all this time he was secretly sporting a crop top scar

also, THIRTY?! holy shit son you been busy

la la la two-page spread of Touya casually driving the dagger into Endeavor’s hero career and rocking the foundations of hero society as we know it la la la

la la la!!!

OH IS THAT THE END OF THE STORY THEN

almost got confused for a sec. there’s two monologues happening at once here. Endeavor doesn’t even know that his dirty laundry is being aired out nation-wide as we speak ffffff

btw while I appreciate the close-ups of Enji and Shouto here for sure, ngl I would also really love to see everyone else’s reactions right now. SHOW ME BAKUGOU AND THE LOV YOU COWARDS

is his hair actually turning white all of a sudden?? your hair dye just reacts on command??

(ETA: in all seriousness though, the hell kind of hair dye was he using? all he has to do is pour a bottle of that stuff and not even lather it in and it’s just gone just like that?? what the fuck would have have done if it ever rained lmao.

and this motherfucker just goes and leaves the dye remover in afterwards, too. I have never dyed my hair in my life and even I can tell you that’s probably not a good idea, Dabi.)

is this it. is this the legendary Dabi Dance in action. lmfao

oh hey what the fuck

so you figured you’d just murder your innocent younger brother to get revenge on dad, huh. well that’s nice

is that really all there is to the origin story though?? feels like we’re still missing a huge chunk of it. what was it that finally sent him over the edge? or was the trauma of being created as Endeavor’s perfect little hero tool and then being subsequently rejected by him enough on its own? because I’m still kind of confused on the part where he goes from “abused and discarded by his father” to “killed thirty people and was plotting the murder of his own brother” to tell you the truth

(ETA: lmao the initial fandom reaction to this did not disappoint. listen guys. people can be traumatized and shaped by awful circumstances that are completely out of their control, and grow up to be people they wouldn’t have grown up to be if things had been better, and all of that absolutely sucks, but. it doesn’t mean they get a get-out-of-jail-free card for all of their future actions, either! the tragedy of this situation is that terrible things happened to Touya, and he then went on to do terrible things himself. the tragedy of it is that this is exactly how the cycle of abuse keeps repeating itself on and on and on. maybe one of the people Dabi killed had a child who will now grow up traumatized themselves, and potentially go on to pay it forward themselves when they grow up. the tragedy is that the eye-for-an-eye justice that Touya is seeking out won’t actually make anything better in the end. the tragedy is that we understand why Touya is so angry, but that anger has basically warped him into the gleefully sadistic dancing figure we see in this chapter who has stopped caring about anyone else’s pain or suffering and just wants his own revenge.

anyway. basically what I’m trying to say is that it’s possible for the concepts of “Todoroki Touya was an innocent child and a victim of abuse” and “Dabi is a grown-ass motherfucking adult who killed thirty people and PROBABLY NEEDS TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THAT” to coexist lol. like, y’all wanted your moral grey, well HERE YOU GO lmao, eat up.)

lol but LOOK AT THAT BOY DANCE HIS LITTLE HEART OUT though

Todoroki Touya confirmed not a fan of the Endeavor redemption arc huh. well we all saw this coming lols

anyways here’s a sexy Touya for y’all

you really are the most theatrical bitch I s2g lmao

also for real though, what is happening with his hair? anime team in shambles here. they’re probably just gonna double down and keep it red. too bad though cuz this is a surprisingly good look on him

SO MANY CLOSE-UPS OF THE TODOROKI FACES

friendly reminder that Dabi without a doubt REHEARSED this speech like a thousand fucking times. LET US FALL TOGETHER!! COME DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL. apparently if you fake your own death in middle school you will never mentally age past that point and will remain a permanent chuuni

OH LMAO THAT’S THE END

we really just gonna end on “DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL”, huh. very well then. you know what song to play, Horikoshi. one, two... YOU ARE MY DAD. YOU’RE MY DAD!! BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE

[bllsbailey]

Biden Confuses Harris, Trump in Inauspicious Start to High-Stakes News Conference

President Joe Biden mixed up the name of his vice president, Kamala Harris, and his Republican rival, Donald Trump, on Thursday at a news conference where the 81-year-old aims to quell concerns that he is too old to run for re-election.

"Look, I wouldn't have picked Vice President Trump to be vice president if she was not qualified to be president. So start there," Biden said in an inauspicious beginning to the high-profile presser as he responded to a question from Reuters about his confidence in Harris.

The flub quickly drew a cutting response from Trump via his social media platform, Truth Social, where the former president posted video of the "big boy press conference," Biden's first since November.

Wrote Trump: "Crooked Joe begins his 'Big Boy' Press Conference with, 'I wouldn't have picked Vice President Trump to be vice president, though I think she was not qualified to be president.' Great job, Joe!"

That came just a few hours after Biden mistakenly referred to Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy as "President Putin."

"And now I want to hand it over to the president of Ukraine, who has as much courage as he has determination, ladies and gentlemen, President Putin," Biden said at the NATO summit in Washington, drawing gasps from those in the room.

"Going to beat President Putin, President Zelenskiy. I am so focused on beating Putin," Biden said while correcting himself.

Biden faces growing doubts from donors, supporters and fellow Democrats, who fear that at age 81, his fitness for office has declined. They also fear he no longer has the ability to beat Republican Donald Trump in the November election, or to lead the country for another four-year term.

Biden's campaign has been on the ropes for two weeks, since his poor debate performance against Donald Trump, his 78-year-old Republican rival.

So far, 13 of the 213 Democrats in the House and one of the Senate's 51 Democrats have appealed publicly to the president to withdraw from the race. More could make their concerns public if he fares poorly in his press conference.

United Auto Workers union officials met on Thursday to discuss their concerns with his candidacy, three sources familiar with the matter said, after endorsing Biden in January. The 400,000-member union has a big presence in industrial states like Michigan that Biden will need to carry to win re-election.

Biden advisers met with Senate Democrats to try to quell further defections. His campaign argued that the debate has not dramatically shifted the race, even as it laid out a narrow path to re-election that acknowledged that it faced an uphill climb in many states he won in 2020.

That did not stop four more Democrats in the House of Representatives called on Biden to end his campaign: Brad Schneider of Illinois, Greg Stanton of Arizona, Ed Case of Hawaii, and Hillary Scholten of Michigan.

"For our country's sake, it is time for the President to pass the torch to a new generation of leaders," Stanton said in a prepared statement.

'I DOUBT THE PRESIDENT'S JUDGMENT'

Others stopped short of calling for Biden to drop out, even as they questioned his ability to lead the country. "I doubt the President’s judgment about his health, his fitness to do the job, and whether he is the one making important decisions about our country, rather than unelected advisors," Representative Marie Gluesenkamp Perez said in a statement.

None of the party's leaders in Congress have called for Biden to end his candidacy, though former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi on Wednesday declined to say he should stay in the race.

The campaign has commissioned a survey to test how Vice President Kamala Harris would fare if she were to replace Biden at the top of the ticket, according to a source with knowledge of the matter. A Reuters/Ipsos poll released last week found Harris would fare no better than Biden if she were the Democratic nominee, as both were statistically tied with Trump.

Prominent donors like actor George Clooney have called on Biden to drop out, and there were signs that concerns are growing within Biden's campaign operation as well.

The New York Times reported that some longtime advisers were considering ways to convince him to drop his reelection bid, while NBC News reported that some campaign staffers thought he stood no chance of winning the election.

A Reuters/Ipsos poll released last week found Biden and Trump tied at 40% each. Other opinion polls have found Trump widening his lead over Biden, and some strategists have warned that Trump stood a chance of winning reliably Democratic states like New Hampshire and Minnesota.

In their strategy memo, the campaign argued that it has always expected a close election and could win by focusing on three battleground states: Pennsylvania, Michigan and Wisconsin.

If he won those states, along with others considered to be reliably Democratic, he would win 270 electoral votes -- the bare minimum needed to secure the presidency. Biden won 306 electoral votes in 2020.

The campaign characterized other battleground states he won in 2020 as "not out of reach."

Newsmax contributed to this story.

© 2024 Thomson/Reuters. All rights reserved.