#but this convo was too good to not be shared almost in its entirety

[ducavalentinos]

“Lord of Pesaro and a scion of the powerful House of Sforza, did not sound pleased. “I am telling you,” he said, loudly enough for me to hear him through the solid oak door, “we should be gone from this place! You are my wife, and you belong at my side, in Pesaro!” “My father says otherwise. You may be willing to defy him, but I am not. If you wish to return to Pesaro, by all means do so, but do not expect me to go with you.” For a thirteen-year-old confronted by an angry man twice her age who had at least nominal authority over her as her husband, Lucrezia sounded remarkbly calm and self-possessed. [...]He does not accept our marrige. Indeed, I have begun to wonder if he would accept your being truly married to anyone. “What do you mean?” Young as she was, Lucrezia was far from ignorant. She knew the depths to which Borgia’s enemies went in their efforts to defame him, even dragging his relationship with his young daughter through the vilest muck. I sucked in my breath as I realized what a mistake it was for Sforza to remind her of that. But the Lord of Pesare seemed to have no sense of that. To the contrary, he seemed to have no sense at all. “I merely wonder whether if we were allowed to live together as husband and wife, I would find that you—” Find what? That she was not a virgin because of the disgusting slander against her father? “Get out!” Lucrezia screamed, her self-control finally shattering, if only for a moment. Or perhaps, like her father, she understood the selective use of rage. “Get out and do not come back!” “You cannot order me about! I am your husband—” “If you do not leave now, I will tell my father what you just said. Papa believes me too sheltered to know about the filth his enemies spread. I will let him think that was so until you put them in my mind. Do you have any idea how enraged he will be or what he will do to you in turn?” Weakly, Sforza said, “He needs my family’s support—” “He did need it in order to gain the papacy, but he is pope now and unless you are very careful, he will come to see all of you Sforzas as a liability. Instead of making him regret that he ever agreed to our marrige, you should be seeking ways to win his favor.” “I don’t know how.” A hard confession on the part of a member of one of the wiliest and most guileful families in all of Italy, but then no one had ever claimed that Giovanni Sforza was overly endowed with either intelligence or daring. Lucrezia possessed far more of both, as she did not hesitate to demonstrate. “You may start by doing as I said—leave.” [...]I barely had the presence of mind to dart behind a nearby column before the door to Lucrezia’s apartament banged open and Sforza stomped out in a fury. I waited until he had vanished down the far end of the corridor before approaching tentatively. Half expecting to find Borgia’s daughter in tears, I was suprised to discover her in a window seat, reading calmly. As I entered, she looked up and smiled. “Francesca, how good to see you. Come, sit down.” She patted the stool beside her. “I hope you have gossip to share, I am most dreadfully bored.” What Sforza has suggested truly was unforgivable. She would bide her time, but I was certain that in the end, she would exact a price for the insult he had done her and her father both. She was, after all, a Borgia.

[fullsins]

fuck it i’ll just repost

pairing: dom!hyuck x sub!reader

genre: literally pwp (it’s a sex tape, for god’s sake), a decent amount of fluff

word count: 4.2k

warnings (in mostly chronological order): consensual filming during sex, the color system, lingerie, praise and degradation, overuse of terms of endearment, obvious dom-sub dynamics, blowjob and mouthfucking, spit-swallowing and general messy bodily fluids (you know the drill), thigh-riding, choking, edging/ruined orgasm, slight dacryphilia (crying kink), mild humiliation kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it and if you choose not to, be aware of the possible repercussions), fingering, eating out, probably less foreplay than necessary but there’s some foreplay, mild manhandling, donghyuck thick cock agenda is back i’m so sorry, some nipple play type things mentions, mild overstimulation, cumming inside

a/n: they stop to talk during sex a lot and yes it’s on purpose because communication is key. also the ending is shitty but whatever

inspired by an ask @junguws got and a convo i had with @ja3minz

“you can talk, you know, we haven’t gotten started yet.” your boyfriend remarks offhandedly, his words light and conversational as he sets up a tripod and camera near the corner of your shared bedroom. if you were in any other situation right now, if you were an outsider to your relationship, you’d assume that he’s just taking some pretty shots of you, in your cherry red robe and coy smile. after all, donghyuck looks relaxed as all hell, clothes still on to the point that it’s maddening for you.

you want nothing more than to feel his skin on yours, under your fingers and under your nails and between your teeth. dispelling this urge proves difficult.

“i don’t really know what to say,” you respond, words hoarser than expected because of how dry your throat is. you dart your tongue out to wet your lower lip as if it’ll help you any, and donghyuck, ever-observant, takes note of it with a small smirk on his face.

“how about reciting your colors for me?” his voice is uncharacteristically void of teasing, meaning that he really does want you to do as he asks. donghyuck’s tone is gentle for now, and you don’t want to jeopardize it. he may be rough, may be sadistic, may be trying, hell, he may even love to see you sob for him, but he has never put his pleasure above your comfort, and you know he never will. you’ve never felt safer than you do with hyuck.

“green for- for keep going, yellow for when i need a second, and red for stop.” they fall from your tongue easily, a second nature. your boyfriend smiles encouragingly at you, soft in his entirety for the moment.

“and if you can’t speak?”

“two taps for yes or keep going, three taps for no or slow down, and just keep tapping for stop.” you’re diligent in your recitation, and the way hyuck’s eyes fold in pride is enough for you to relax against the headboard of your bed. he turns back to the camera once more, making sure the set up will stand on its own and that it’s getting the entirety of the bed, before finally clicking it on so its recording and looking back at you.

“good girl,” he murmurs, almost as an afterthought as he steps away from the camera and trains his gaze on you entirely. donghyuck is surveying what’s his - that much is obvious as his eyelids sink slightly, his expression darkening. you don’t dare to move without his permission. “how about you open that robe for me, hm?”

you nod rapidly, already feeling yourself start to sink into yourself, mind empty save for the man at the foot of your bed. donghyuck, ultimately always fair, starts unbuttoning his shirt as you untie the ties of your robe, allowing the fabric to fall away from you to reveal a lingerie set in the exact same color. you watch, eyes hooded, as your boyfriend’s tan skin comes into view, soft and smooth and empyrean under the dimmed red LED lights that decorate the borders of the ceiling. donghyuck tosses his shirt aside, not registering how it lands on one corner of the bed. he doesn’t really care.

“knees.”

the single word has you scrambling, swinging your legs back underneath you and clasping your hands behind your back. it’s a position you know well, and you know that if you stray from it, you’ll have no respite from the teasing wrath you’ll have to endure. donghyuck unbuckles his jeans, only pushing them down low enough to expose the waistband of his boxers before he climbs onto the bed, moving so he’s directly in front of you. you don’t even have to be told as you shuffle backwards, the soles of your feet eventually hitting the base of the bed’s backboard.

donghyuck chuckles at this, enamored by how easily he has you eating out of the palm of his hand. he hasn’t even touched you yet.

once he’s in front of you, he stands up so you’re eye-level with his prominent bulge. hyuck shoves his boxers down just slightly, pulling his hardening cock from the cloth confines and tugging slightly on it once before leaning over and grasping the headboard with his other hand. he makes sure that he isn’t blocking the camera’s view by straightening himself slightly. you’re mentally grateful the ceiling fan is off, though you have no time to dwell on that as the tip of donghyuck’s cock bobs in front of your face.

without thinking, you reach up, though you don’t touch, not until hyuck gives a small nod, signalling for you to go ahead. gingerly, you wrap one hand around it as best you can, only tightening your grip once hyuck groans out loud, bucking into your hand ever-so-slightly. this gives you the confidence to drag your hand up towards the tip, watching, enraptured, as precum dribbles out of his slit and onto your hand. you smear the slick substance along his shaft on the downstroke, your pussy clenching at how much you find yourself wanting to take him into your mouth.

“can - can i...” you trail off, looking up at the man above you with the best doe eyes you can muster. he raises an eyebrow, and you find that you aren’t surprised. hyuck has never given you anything that easily.

“words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words. what do you want?” his tone is deceptively gentle, and you let out a soft, light sigh.

“i want... can i suck your cock, please, hyuck?” your hand moves of its own accord as you ask for permission, squeezing and tugging lightly along his shaft, thumbing over his tip in the way that makes him grind shallowly against your palm.

“i’ll do you one better,” he grunts out, the timbre of his voice forcing you to rub your thighs together to alleviate the pressure building in your lower stomach. “‘m going to fuck your mouth. open up, baby. wide, for the camera.”

how can you say no to that voice? on impulse, your lips part the moment he finishes his command, maneuvering so his cockhead rests against your lower lip. he pushes your fingers off of his dick, gripping it in his own hand and stroking once, twice, before shallowly thrusting into your mouth, testing the waters just a bit. when you show no perturbation at the intrusion, hyuck moves the hand at the base of his cock up to your hair, tangling it amongst your strands.

in no time at all, he’s set an inhuman pace on your throat, choking you with every thrust as you gargle around his dick. donghyuck’s grunts are music to your ears, even as the slick sounds of a blowjob fully permeate the air. your hands fly to his thighs to steady yourself and to keep your momentum forward so your head doesn’t continuously knock against the backboard behind you. you’re hyper-aware of his fingertips pressing against your scalp, your nails scraping against his jeans, the ache between your legs as your bed creaks with how hard donghyuck is rocking it. a mixture of precum and spit drool from your mouth, leaking at the sides, and your boyfriend must be well-aware of this because he pulls out of your mouth entirely, moving aside so you’re on show for the camera.

you’re gasping for air, tears budding at the corners of your eyes as you try to ease the burden of your abused throat. it’s just the way he likes it. the minuscule green light that’s staring directly at you brings you back to earth, and you know that when you inevitably rewatch the tape you’ll see a fucked out you, gaping at the camera, a mess on your face and over the tops of your breasts, eyes vacant of everything but lust.

“you like this? you like having how much of a whore you are for my cock recorded for forever?” donghyuck coos, telling moreso than he’s asking. he sinks down to his knees, jeans sliding down his thighs slightly, and cups your face with a gentleness you don’t expect. his cock is angry, harder than ever, and you suddenly want it back in your mouth. you want nothing more than to make hyuck cum.

“answer me.” this time he really does command you, eyes boring into yours, and you nod your head vigorously, not wanting to be reprimanded. you’re good for donghyuck, you’re always good for him.

“pretty baby’s all fucked out without even being touched,” he smirks, shuffling so he’s leaning over you, mouth directly over your own. “pathetic little sweetheart. at least you’re my pathetic darling. open.”

you comply, already too far gone to do anything else. donghyuck chuckles at how pliant you are before squeezing your cheeks together slightly, forcing your lips closer to his. you only see his eyes, his dark, blown-wide pupils as he lets a droplet of his spit fall onto your waiting tongue. you don’t move, knowing full well what he’ll want you to do next.

“look at the camera before you swallow. there you go, that’s a good slut,” he murmurs approvingly as you do as he tells, going so far as to lean forward as you swallow to show off how great your tits look from the top from your lingerie set. hyuck places a hand on your covered ass, and you tense immediately simply because of how badly you want him. still, you feel him falter, drawing his hand away from you slightly, before softly turning your face back to face him. when he speaks again, he sounds like everyday donghyuck, the one you love outside of the bedroom. “color, princess?”

“green,” you respond immediately, mustering up your sweetest smile. “i’m all good, love.”

“good,” your boyfriend mirrors your look for a moment before his features settle back into his teasing demeanor, and you watch as he presses his back against the backboard and spreads his legs slightly. “then you’re going to ride my thigh. take the camera off it’s stand and c’mere.”

it’s all you can do to get up on your shaky legs and grab the camera before crawling over to him, swallowing to moisten your drying throat before settling on top of one of his jean-clad thighs. donghyuck’s dick is still out and still very much hard, but he says nothing of it, only holding his hand out silently for you to give him the recording device that’s currently capturing his hooded eyes. donghyuck gestures for you to situate yourself on his thigh as he takes the camera from you, and once he’s got the camera pointed where he wants it, he flexes his thigh and taps your ass - hard - to force you to rut against the denim.

much to your chagrin, his free hand soon finds purchase in your waist rather than around your throat, and he controls your grinding as best he can. the friction between the denim, the cloth of your panties, and your clit is delicious, and you find that the faster donghyuck forces you against his thigh the less you can even speak, only capable of letting out whimpers and whines and broken chants of his name.

“take your bra off, darling.” your boyfriend eventually murmurs, his grip on your waist not letting up. you take a moment to process his command before stuttering out an affirmation and reaching back to undo your lingerie top. you allow it to fall off you, landing in between you and donghyuck, the lace brushing against his cock when it lands in a way that has him groaning. you pick it up and toss it somewhere - you have no clue where it lands - before resting your hands against hyuck’s chest and quickening your pace. he reaches up, twisting one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger in a way that always has you keening.

the moan you let out on instinct is one of the most depraved noises you’ve ever made. your head falls back immediately as your eyes slide shut, and even though you aren’t surprised when donghyuck’s free hand climbs your body to press against the sides of your throat once more, you still let out a whimper at the contact. donghyuck, for his part, is panning the camera down, down your fucked out face and his hand on your throat and your heaving chest and your soaked lingerie-clad core rubbing deliciously against his thigh. your eyes well up from all of it: the friction, the breathplay. you’re almost at your breaking point.

by the way your moans grow raspier and breathier, by the way you can’t even fully say his name anymore, your boyfriend knows that you’re close. it’s obvious, especially considering how well he knows your body.

it’s for this reason that he forcefully grabs one side of your hips and grinds you down against his jeans only one more time before halting you, his fingertips digging into the soft skin of your waist to ensure that you don’t move any more.

“fuck!” you cry out in immediate indignance, unable to stop yourself from glaring at donghyuck as a tear finally drops from your waterline, sliding down your face at having been denied your orgasm. “fuck, please,” you whine out, more tears slipping down your face. “i’ve been good.”

hyuck says nothing, only chuckling slightly as he brings the camera up to your face. you always look so beautiful when you’re in tears for him. the realization that you’re being recorded in such a state has you whimpering, sobbing even harder. through your haze of tears, you try to rut yourself down on his thigh again to bring back your quickly fading orgasm, but donghyuck stops you easily, even going so far as to tut at you as if you should know better.

you suppose you should.

“do that again and i’ll spank you,” he says, shifting and gently pushing you off of his thigh. “but maybe baby would like that, hm? rewatching video of your pretty ass bent over my lap?”

you say nothing, only sniffling over your ruined orgasm. donghyuck finds this either adorable or hilarious, you aren’t sure which, and can’t keep himself from grinning slightly at the way you’re acting. it’s bratty of you to stay upset, you know this, but for whatever reason, you can’t stop yourself from furrowing your brows at your boyfriend. on his part, he only quirks an eyebrow in tandem with one corner of his mouth before languidly wiping your face free of tears.

the camera is still trained on your face. you must look like an absolute mess - there’s tears in your eyes, staining your cheeks. there’s some drool still around the corners of your mouth from when you’d sucked his cock, some of his precum still sticky around your lips. you look filthy, but you know that, too hyuck, you also look beautiful.

he says something, but you miss it. donghyuck reaches out and squeezes your cheeks in his free hand, forcing your lips to part from each other and pucker out. it catches you off guard, but you can’t lie and say that it doesn’t cause you to whine out in arousal.

“i said,” he reiterates, pulling your face closer to his easily with the grip he has on you. “will you be good for me?”

your bratty demeanor fades instantly as you gaze into his eyes, and you find that all you want in the moment is him. no more teasing, or playing, just him. you must appear the slightest bit unfocused, though, and taking into consideration the fact that you haven’t answered him yet, donghyuck lets go of your face, instead thumbing over your bottom lip gently as he cups your cheek.

“color, baby?”

“green,” you breathe out, though it’s obvious that you’re needier now than you were moments before - a feat in and of itself. “i just- i just want you. please? i’ve been good. mostly good. i’ve been okayish, and- ”

“you’ve been very good, darling,” donghyuck interrupts before you ramble, his eyes softening entirely. “tired of playing? do you want me to turn off the camera?”

“no!” you respond a little over-excitedly, face heating up as you realize how hasty you sound. donghyuck’s smirk tells you that he’s realized the same thing, so you rush to explain yourself. “i mean, i kind of like it, and i want to rewatch it someday. i want to film you too, though. can we just do missionary?”

“we can do whatever you want.” your boyfriend agrees readily, pulling you down to him to press a soft kiss, one that you rarely get in the bedroom, against your lips. he hands you the camera a moment later, and you shuffle backwards slightly so you can capture him as he shoves his jeans off, his boxers following seconds later. the sight of his erect cock, tip flushed and achingly hard, has your mouth drying out. without thinking, you lean over, suckling the tip in your mouth and swirling your tongue over his head on instinct.

one of hyuck’s hands flies to your hair, and the other takes the camera back from you, intent on capturing your ministrations. you force yourself to take all of him into your mouth - the hand massaging your scalp helps push you down - and suction before coming back up for air, a rivulet of drool creating a steady stream down your chin.

“shit,” donghyuck groans out, zooming in on the mess he’s made of your mouth. “you’re everything, baby. get situated or i’ll put you in position myself.”

you don’t hesitate to listen, crawling over to the center of the bed like always. donghyuck gets up off of the bed, and you know if you don’t move towards the edge of the bed he’ll pull you down by the ankles. he’s always preferred to keep his feet on solid ground. as you expect, he walks over to stand at the foot of the bed, cock standing proud in front of him. when you finally lay down on your back, exactly in the position he wants you, donghyuck sinks to his knees, making sure both him and the camera are eye-level with your soaked underwear. typically, he would tease you, maybe even make you cum in your panties first before even thinking about coming on his cock. tonight, though, he only pulls them off of your legs, throwing them out of your line of sight.  

he leans up and places the camera on your stomach, and that’s when you realize he isn’t quite done with foreplay just yet. you grab ahold of the recording device and fumble it into such a way that it’s filming your boyfriend perfectly as he leans in and simultaneously takes your clit between his tongue and upper teeth and presses two of his fingers into your core.

“d- shit, hyuck!” you cry out, hips arching off of the bed without much stimulation. donghyuck doesn’t let up, doesn’t even bother to pin your hips down as you begin grinding against his face of your own accord. his fingers continue to work you open as you shakily film his light brown mop of hair moving between your legs. he glances up, eyes meeting the camera, and has the audacity to wink at it before diving back in, tongue lapping at your wet heat as if it’s donghyuck’s last meal on earth.

just as you’re about to finally cum, he pulls away, dragging his two wet fingers across your inner thigh and removing his mouth from where you need it most. the whine you let out is high and pathetic, and donghyuck laps up the arousal he’s just spread across your skin as a show of pity. he bites down, tugging the skin between his teeth once he’s finished, drawing forth another, desperate moan from between your lips.

“i take it that you’re ready for me, then?” he asks cheekily, rocking back up on the balls of his feet and straightening himself up to standing until he looks like he’s towering over you. you can’t even speak, you’re so pent up: instead, you nod frantically and spread your legs in tandem. “you don’t need any more foreplay, princess?”

“fuck foreplay,” you manage to grit out, desperately in need of your boyfriend inside of you. “just put your goddamn dick-”

he shoves himself into you without warning, forcing you to cut your own tirade off with a choked moan. donghyuck allows you to get used to the stretch, only grinding very, very shallowly as you get both yourself and the camera situated. once you give him a go ahead, he gently pulls one of your legs over his shoulders, causes you to tighten impossibly around his thick cock. your boyfriend hisses at how warm, how wet, how impossibly vice-like you are, his hips stuttering as he starts thrusting into you at a pace that makes it very evident that he, too, is pent up.  

you use the leg not hooked over his shoulder to wrap around his waist, forcing him even deeper than you thought possible. the string of swears that falls from donghyuck’s mouth at this is music to your ears, and you’re on cloud nine even as he slaps at the inside of your thigh as a reprimand for seeking any semblance of control.

“i’m in charge here, baby,” he grunts out, voice managing to be both sugary sweet and dangerous at the same time. “don’t forget it.” with this, he leans close, jackrabbiting into you as best he can in the position you’re both in. you’re about to cum - you can feel it, spreading through your body as if you’re on fire. usually, you would last longer, but you’ve been on edge long enough, having been soaked since your boyfriend first stuffed his cock down your throat.

now that his dick is finally inside of you, veins scraping deliciously against your walls in a way that reminds you his girth is both a blessing and a curse, but mostly a blessing, you can’t help but start to clench erratically around him, your breathing picking up as you near your orgasm. donghyuck, for his part, wets one of his thumbs on his tongue and presses it against your clit, rubbing in quick circles as his thrusts start to speed up, matching his raspy pants of breath. he moves your calf off his shoulder, causing both of your legs to lock around his waist as he fucks into you like there’s no tomorrow.

donghyuck leans in close, close enough to place his lips right at your ear. just as your body shows signs of beginning to seize up in pleasure, he whispers a ‘come for me, love. now.’ before biting down sharply on your earlobe. that’s all it takes for your pleasure to overcome you, your back arching off of the bed and forcing your chest up into your lover’s face, something he welcomes wholeheartedly. donghyuck, not having reached his peak yet, continues to grind into you.

you can sense he’s getting closer by the way his hips seem to move of their own accord, donghyuck mindless in pleasure. as you do your best to clench around him once more, to coax his orgasm out of him, he mouths over your breasts, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth right as his hips finally, finally stutter to a standstill inside of you, cum spurting into your warm walls. you can’t help the long, low moan you let out at the mild overstimulation you’re feeling, and donghyuck reaching up to flick at your other nipple does nothing to help the sensations that are overcoming you.

once he’s done slowly grinding his cum back into you, , hyuck forces you to unlock your legs from his waist. wordlessly, he takes the camera from you, stepping back to aim it at your abused, sopping core, eagerly filming the way his cum drips out between your swollen lips and onto the bedspread. he supposes he’ll have to run a washer/dryer cycle soon.

“my pretty baby,” he coos, looking up at your fucked out expression once he’s done. “took me so well.” with a final zoom in on your face, a testament to how good you’ve been for him and how good he’s made you feel, he turns the camera off, making sure that all of the footage from today has been saved. once he puts it up, he goes to the bathroom and returns with a damp rag, and you let your legs fall open so he can wipe at the mess he’s made of you. he runs the other side of the rag gently over your face, picking up on whatever fluids are still left on you. once he’s down, donghyuck leans in, pressing the softest of kisses against your lips.

“want me to run a bath?” he asks, though, judging by the way he says the words you can tell he’s at least mildly tired. you shake your head, holding your arms out instead. your boyfriend chuckles at you, though you notice that he doesn’t hesitate to clamber into bed beside you, pulling your naked form close to his own after tossing the rag.

“just want you right now,” you say once he’s shifted so that your head rests against his chest. he hums in agreement, lifting a hand to gently run it through your hair.

“just want you always.”

[drunklander]

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 402

It shouldn’t be surprising when I say this post is going to be less jokey than last week. If that’s not your jam, I recommend you stop reading now and maybe just sing “Everyone is Garbage” to the tune of Everything is Awesome while you instead go watch the entirety of Underground, or the Rosa Parks episode of Doctor Who.

I have to say, the producers on this show have said a lot of dumb shit in the past. From “Frank’s a good guy!” when he’s portrayed as being objectively awful on screen to “We don’t shy away from the horrors of the past because we’re so daring like that!” as a justification of their need to rape or assault everyone with a pulse. But one of the dumbest things in recent memory was at NYCC when Ron tried to claim that Outlander isn’t a political show.

Bullshit. Everything is political.

Using America the Beautiful to underscore how America didn’t, and still doesn’t, live up to the ideals we sing about in our romanticized versions of our history was political. Albeit in an overly heavy-handed way. Choosing to do an episode about slavery that focuses solely on white people and not the enslaved, who are just there as props for the white people’s moral dilemmas, is political. Choosing to show a lynching on screen in a time when Black people are still being killed in horrifying numbers at the hands of white people who are supposed to serve and protect, in a time when Black people have the police called on them while simply having a cookout in a public park, in a time when a white man can shoot an unarmed Black boy and walk away with no consequences, is political.

How we portray Black bodies on screen matters. And in this instance, a *very* white show chose to frame enslaved people as the props against which they highlight the guilt of the white protagonists.

I really do wish they included someone checking to see if Claire, who had a man killed right in front of her, was ok. But instead she just does the emotional labor of assuaging Jamie’s guilt over Bonnet’s attack. Because doing emotional labor is just what women do. *flips off the patriarchy and also the producers*

Young Ian’s awe at River Run, how it’s befitting a king, just highlights how he has no context for what the symbol of a big white plantation house means for so many people. That image is so laden with white supremacy it should immediately trigger a bad taste in any decent person’s mouth. Go ahead and @ me.

Jocasta Cameron is straight garbage, but Maria Doyle Kennedy is fucking amazing. A++ casting, show.

Not sure if the parallel of Jocasta telling Claire to call her Auntie and Claire telling Phaedre and Mary to call her Claire was intentional or not. Will have more to say about that in a second...

Honest question, if the dog who plays Rollo is so poorly trained that they have to cut him out of most scenes, why didn’t they get a different dog? Slash, I thought they’d been training this one since it was a puppy?

“Some River Run hospitality.” *feels nauseous*

I SO hope they don’t do the Jocasta and Ulysses having an affair storyline from the books. Please, show, don’t do it.

Show!Jocasta is so much more overtly garbage than book!Jocasta. This is a woman who had to flee her country after the Rising because of how horrible the English were to the Scots. Yet she doesn’t bat an eye at the concept of keeping human beings as property. Even with Jamie, she isn’t thinking of him as his own person, but rather someone she can make do her bidding and use for her own purposes. She should fucking know better, but the promise of benefiting from white supremacy is apparently more beneficial than actually having morals. Fuck you, Jocasta.

Claire’s palpable discomfort with being led around by an enslaved man juxtaposed with Jamie thinking nothing of it as he reminisces about his mother is just the start of me side-eyeing Jamie a lot this episode.

Don’t worry, I’m an equal opportunity side-eye’er. Claire’s gonna get her share of it too. Starting with her asking Phaedre and Mary to call her Claire.

Claire. You know all about chattel slavery. You know it’s wrong. You know how enslaved people are treated. Why the fuck would you ask Phaedre and Mary to put themselves in a position to potentially face serious consequences for not being “properly deferential” to a white person just to make yourself feel better about being complicit in their enslavement. She’s prioritizing making herself feel better at the expense of the potential well-being of Phaedre and Mary. JFC, Claire, do not endanger the marginalized people you claim to care about in the name of wokeness.

The skunk bit with Young Ian and John Quincy Myers is a tad off-putting tbh. I love that Ian wants to learn about Native Americans and looks to find similarities with them rather than think of them as “savages,” but like they’re having this convo while completely ignoring the fact that an enslaved boy is filling the tub and like immediately just start talking about banging Native American women. It just feels like they were stretching for some levity when the characters in this episode don’t deserve any.

Jamie: “Uncle Hector and you have achieved a great amount here, Auntie.” Me:

Jocasta: “I purchase them in lots, in order to keep those with children together.” Me:

“Over the years, I found my slaves to be more productive when treated with benevolence. You see, I don’t actually see them as people. I only treat them nicely so my property can reach its maximum potential output. I am a garbage human and the myth of the benevolent slave owner is just bullshit that white people tell themselves to absolve themselves of the fact that they benefit from white supremacy.”

That Jocasta can refer to the people she enslaves as both too expensive to be livestock and friends in almost the same breath is peak caucasity. Seriously, show!Jocasta is an irredeemably shit person.

Also Jamie being like oh well done, Auntie, you are so nice to these people makes me want to punch him in his dumbass face. Show!Jamie has been on my last nerve for a while tbh.

Like bro, you literally lived in a cave for fucking years because the English were out to fuck Scots up. You were in prison for fucking years. You served on an English estate, where you were raped, for fucking years. And now you see people who were ripped from their homes and families and brought across the sea against their will (hey remember your nephew, Ian?) and you’re like oh Auntie, you’re such a nice white lady. Go fuck yourself, Jamie.

Jocasta playing the woman card with Jamie to justify her needing him to get involved with the enslaved labor on her plantation is something Colum would be proud of.

And Jocasta being like hey, “Claire, you’ve been homeless for a hot minute, shower me in praise for how nice my slave-run house is as I ‘graciously’ let you stay here” is such a power move in the worst possible way. Colum and Dougal raise a glass from whatever afterworld they ended up in.

Claire, girl, why couch your opposition to slavery in the Quaker influence. Own your opinions on this. Take a fucking stand. There are things in life worth standing up for. This is fucking one of them.

Oh Jenny. I love that she wrote to Jocasta about Claire. But also last season still turned me the hell off from show!Jenny so really I don’t like that lady.

Fuck each and every one of these yuppie white men.

Aw, woke-ish!Ian. Yes, it was their land, but let’s please not think of the Native American women as sexual conquests like you were earlier. KThxBai.

Ok for real, after living at Leoch and scheming through Paris and then being fucked over by Bonnet, Jamie sure doesn't learn much about people being sneaky. How does he not see where Jocasta was going when she so readily positioned him in a position of authority on the plantation.

Jamie, bro, buying into the benevolent slave owner narrative is not a good look. And by not a good look, I mean you are a garbage person. I get that that’s the point, but still.

Ok so the book frames Campbell as a friend to the Frasers, and the show is trying to frame him as someone genuinely trying to look out for the Frasers’ best interest. But he has also resigned himself to the reality of his current situation with no desire to try to make things better since it would mean making a personal sacrifice. To which I say, fuck you very much, you coward.

Hi, I’m Der, and I’m of the opinion that if you are in a place of privilege and see bigotry and oppression taking place, it’s your duty to stand the fuck up and try to make a change. 

“If we take the Tryon option, we don’t need to feel bad about slavery and can just bask in our white privilege on stolen Native American land and not have to deal with the consequences of accepting free land from the English, y’know, the people we hate, for almost a decade.” Cool, Jamie. Cool cool cool. Remember last episode when you were almost woke? 

Claire acting naive about what’s going to happen to Rufus should seem out of character. She went back into the past knowing full well how things were there. She knew that if she went back, she’d be in a time where this was the reality. Yes, she thought she’d be in Scotland, but that’s just another sign of her fucking privilege. She was like oh, I’ll just be in Edinburgh and not have to consider slavery. Joe Abernathy did not deserve the shaft he got in season three and he does not deserve fucking peak-white-privilege-the-past-is-fine-because-it-doesn’t-really-affect-me Claire as his friend.

Scrub Nurse!Ian is literally the only positive part of this episode.

This entire scene of a room of white guys being like “we need to uphold the law!” makes me want to kick the shit out of each and every fucker who has ever owned a confederate battle flag t-shirt or a bumper sticker. 

Also fuck each and every person who voted for the authoritarian narcissist who currently occupies the white house in 2016 or any of his fucking lackeys in the midterms. All these fuckers are straight garbage. And all the fuckers defending the authoritarian tendencies of the current administration can go fuck themselves. Go ahead and @ me.

“Don’t worry, my husband is heir to this estate.” Oh don’t fucking delude yourself, Claire. Rufus is going to die. And you are complicit in his death. Fucking own it.

*insert obligatory Joe Abernathy deserved better rant here*

I don’t like giving partial credit, but at least the show let fucking Rufus tell his own story. Just for a little bit though.

Ok I’m calling fucking bullshit that Ulysses, a man who (I don’t care what his relationship with Jocasta has been) has been enslaved for years, fucking calls Claire out and tells her she should have let Rufus die. Way to fucking try to absolve Claire by having a Black, enslaved man try to make her upcoming actions ok.

Don’t act naive, Claire. You know how this was going to end. Rufus was always going to die. You are complicit. There is no escaping that. Fucking own your part. Fucking own your privilege. And also fuck the show for centering this so much on the fucking white people.

Rufus didn't get to be an active participant in his own death. Claire should *not* have been absolved of her decision to kill him by having him ask her to do it. But by not even telling him what she's doing, she's just another white person making decisions for him without his consent. She also should have known to kill him without Jamie telling her to. *gestures at the Graham Menzies part of the books* She knows what's about to happen. She should accept that by choosing to be in the southern colonies, she's going to be complicit in slavery. She made her bed when she decided to go back into the past and now she should have to lay in it. 

Sure she may not have known that she’d end up in the colonies, but she still knew she’d be going back to a time when she’d end up being part of something that is morally abhorrent. But apparently getting that ginger dick was worth it.

It’s cute they do a parallel of her helping Rufus to die with her helping Geordie to die. But I can’t help but think this is as much for her as for him.

Every white person in this episode is trash. As they fucking should be.

Fuck everyone who defends the continued existence of confederate memorial statues tbh.

I know that’s out of left field, but yeah, fuck those people.

The fact that this shit is bringing up very real feelings about today’s political climate makes me fucking angry at the fuckers around today and also the fucking production crew for trying to cater to the meemaws by saying the show isn’t political.

Fuck Jamie for being like yeah, I can just pray this shit away. No. God is a cop out. You did this. YOU. You need to own this. Don’t you dare hide behind your faith. You will not be absolved.

Fuck this show for showing a fucking lynching and them immediately cutting to Claire’s face to make the lynching about her white guilt. Fuck them. 

If Jamie and Claire really don't want to be complicit in the atrocities of colonial America, they should move to a city where they could join in the work of starting to dismantle the things they claim to be morally opposed to. Instead they embrace their privilege of getting to ignore slavery by leaving River Run next week and go out to colonize Native American lands.

And just think. After all of this. After witnessing a lynching. In a couple episodes, Jamie’s gonna voluntarily send a guy into slavery! 

Fuck.

Please all go read Ta-Nehisi Coates’ Between the World and Me. KThxBai.