#dovish

[josefavomjaaga]

Correspondence between Ney and Soult during the Prussian Campaign 1806

I’ve come across some great source books on Gallica and Google Books: Foucart, "Campagne de Prusse", detailing just about every important letter and order written and exchanged during that campaign. Below are some excerpts from Volume 2: Prenzlau – Lubeck that seem to point, like @impetuous-impulse has already resumed in this post, to Soult and Ney being still at rather friendly terms with each other by autumn 1806. (Much friendlier actually than, for example, Ney and Murat, the latter being extremely brief in his letters to Ney.)

For context: Soult and Ney are headed in the same direction, in the region of Magdeburg, cutting off that city and looking for the corps of the Duke of Weimar, Soult being about a day’s march ahead, and Ney supporting him.

Soult to Ney, Groß-Wanzleben, 21 October 1806 [… Explains that he will move his corps, technically in defiance of orders he had received, but very much following Napoleon’s overall plan] Thus I will leave at your disposal all the villages which are on the right of Gross-Rodensleben, of Nieder-Dodeleben and Diesdorf, to be occupied by your troops, and I will take charge of all the left. However, if it were possible for you to come tomorrow morning early to Gross-Wanzleben and even before your troops have moved, we will agree on the positions that the two corps should take. In addition, I will not give any orders until I have seen you, and this is all the less inconvenient as tomorrow's march will be short. You tell me, my dear Marshal, that His Serene Highness the Grand Duke of Berg has placed at your disposal the dragoon division commanded by General Klein. The Prince has written me as much, and today I sent out to various points to look for this division. If tomorrow morning I have the pleasure of seeing you, we will agree on its services so that when necessary it will serve both of us. I repeat to you, my dear Marshal, the assurance of my perfect attachment. […]

That’s "mon cher maréchal" no less than twice in one paragraph, plus wanting to meet in person to plan what to do next. For Soult, that's socialicing to an almost scary degree 😁.

And apparently headquarters counted on those two getting along rather well:

Berthier to Soult, Dessau, 22 October 1806 […] The Emperor recommends that you not be too confident, that you keep your corps well united, that you always consult with Marshal Ney, so that if the enemy were to attack you by a sudden and unexpected movement, Marshal Ney would be in a position to support you. […]

Something that the two of them were already doing, obviously. And even successfully, as Ney reports back to Berthier:

Ney to Berthier, Wanzleben, 22 October 1806 […] I have seen Marshal Soult and we are in complete agreement on everything relating to the service to be carried out concerning the investment of Magdeburg on the left bank of the Elbe. […]

That’s a far cry from the convention of Lugo!

And finally, Soult – extremely carefully! - trying to get Ney to do something without actually ordering him:

Soult to Ney, Hohen-Warsleben, 23 October 1806, 10 PM At last, my dear Marshal, here is the column of the Duke of Weimar making its appearance. [reports of his advance guard having encountered the enemy and what they have learned; what he plans to do …] I will leave in front of Magdeburg another division of infantry and 2 regiments of cavalry, because it is probable that as soon as the enemy in the town learns of the combat, he will bring out part of his forces to create a diversion. If, after having made this disposition, you judged it appropriate to have the remainder of your cavalry brought to the left, in the direction of Eichenbarleben, and even to present a head of column of infantry, I believe that the enemy thus enveloped could not escape and that we would take all that makes up this column. I am telling you in confidence what I think would be appropriate in this circumstance. Please believe me that I am not putting any pretence into it, and that, if you had been the first to be informed, I would have received your advice with pleasure and gratitude. Please let me know what you intend to do, so that if necessary I can adjust my arrangements.

He’s almost apologetic about daring to make a suggestion to Ney. Obviously, he knows that Ney does not like this at all.

[doonthestair]

what is "going to bed at a reasonable time" all I know is put on playlist and talk for 7 hours through the night until the next sunrise about The Characters

[tanadrin]

One thing that I think not enough people broadly opposed to US foreign policy reckon with is that I don't think US foreign policy is, like, the product of the vast and impersonal forces of capital being brought to bear to further their own interests, in defiance of what the American people want. I think that in fact very many Americans like having a powerful military, they like knowing their country can and will bomb the shit out of anybody it feels like, and if the military-industrial complex disappeared tomorrow, they would demand it be rebuilt because they think it is, in some fundamental sense, good for America. For years the Republicans hammered the Democrats as having a "soft" foreign policy, and it worked, with Democratic dovishness being a political liability throughout the 2000s, until Obama abandoned it. As we have known since the War of Jenkins' Ear, and long before, "my country can kick the snot out of your country" is an important issue for many voters!

It's just that voters 1) often don't care about the specifics (i.e., who is being bombed at any given time), and 2) they don't want it to cost them or people they know anything personally. So they don't want long engagements with high casualty counts--they're fine with bombing campaigns. You could overthrow capitalism in the United States tomorrow and I reckon American foreign policy wouldn't change much--I think you need to think about ways of addressing the broader culture of militarism if that's something you want to alter.

[sayruq]

The Vietnamese leadership measured the impact of its military actions by their political effects rather than by conventional military measures such as men and materiel lost or territory gained. Thus Henry Kissinger’s 1969 lament: “We fought a military war; our opponents fought a political one. We sought physical attrition; our opponents aimed for our psychological exhaustion. In the process we lost sight of one of the cardinal maxims of guerrilla war: The guerrilla wins if he does not lose. The conventional army loses if it does not win.” That logic has Jon Alterman of the not-exactly-dovish Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington, D.C., to see Israel as being at considerable risk of losing to Hamas: Hamas’s concept of military victory…is all about driving long-term political outcomes. Hamas sees victory not in one year or five, but from engaging with decades of struggle that increase Palestinian solidarity and increase Israel’s isolation. In this scenario, Hamas rallies a besieged population in Gaza around it in anger and helps collapse the Palestinian Authority government by ensuring Palestinians see it even more as a feckless adjunct to Israeli military authority. Meanwhile, Arab states move strongly away from normalization, the Global South aligns strongly with the Palestinian cause, Europe recoils at the Israeli army’s excesses, and an American debate erupts over Israel, destroying the bipartisan support Israel has enjoyed here since the early 1970s.

[probablyasocialecologist]

A recent essay in The New York Review of Books argues, correctly, that Israel’s policy of assassinating enemy leaders in foreign nations has not been successful, and that the policy’s ineffectiveness should prompt Israel to reconsider. Let’s set aside for a moment that the goal of assassination has, for at least a couple of decades, functioned more as a means of stoking Israelis’ feelings of dominance in the very immediate term, rather than materially undermining resistance movements. What is rarely asked is this: by what right does Israel continue to disregard the sovereignty of other countries? Borders purport to do two things: demarcate sovereign territory and establish security. Israel has inverted this paradigm—before it can demarcate its territory, which is to say, boundaries past which its drones and fighter jets’ crossing should constitute aggression, it must have Security. Israel has no internationally recognized border with Lebanon, only an armistice line, called the “Blue Line” by the United Nations, indicated today by a thick concrete wall, heavily reinforced in the years since 2006. On Google Maps, dashed lines between Israel, and Gaza and the West Bank—the latter of which Israel calls by its biblical name, “Judea and Samaria”— reinvent these lands as contested. And they are, literally, in the sense that Israel is working to seize them, following the logic of “might makes right.” Beyond Israel’s UN demarcation lines with the Palestinian territories, collectively called the “Green Line,” are concrete walls. So, border walls without borders. And the future hope that the walls will come down once a Security Zone is once again established, after the land is emptied of its people, for the sake of Peace.  Israel is an expansionist project, and, like all such projects, prefers an ever-expanding frontier to a wall—a limit to its aspirational horizons. Israel’s settlers, enabled and armed by the state, encroach on Palestinian neighborhoods in the West Bank and drive “the Arabs” into smaller and smaller pockets of land. A growing movement within the settler state today demands the realization of Greater Israel, a nation that in its maximalist form includes the land “from the Brook of Egypt to the Euphrates.” This position is presented by Western media as a fringe view—never mind that Israel’s Security Minister, Itamar Ben-Givir, is among its proponents. The other, moderate iteration of Zionism, represented by Israeli leaders like the dovish Rabin, reserves the right for Israel to extend as far out as it needs to go, in the name of Security. These positions, and the supremacy that underlies them, are materially the same—one granted by God, the other by the State. Israel’s unsettled borders reflect not a bug, something to resolve, but a feature of the Zionist state, and the source of its self-granted—and United States-ensured—impunity. For Israel, like other occupying nations, war suspends law. Because Israel exists in a constant state of war (and is itself, as I’ve written elsewhere, a state of aggression by its very nature) it is also in a state of perpetual lawlessness in the name of amorphous ends—namely, Security—whose means can only be scrutinized once Security is established, once Peace arrives. 

19 September 2024

[hoeforhao]

🏷 Kidult ▪︎ Choi Seungcheol Fic ▪︎ pt.3

↷ pairing: dad!seungcheol × fem!reader (feat!jeonghan)

↷ genre: smut with zero to no plot, just a bonus stand alone sort of to the angsty previous parts.

↷ warnings: MINORS DNI!!!!explicit language, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving ), mostly fem pleasuring, thigh kink?creampie, breeding kink, biting and marking, slightly bratty seungcheol, lots of name calling. Tell me if i missed any!

↷ summary: what happens when your husband finally caves in to his mistakes and gives you an unforgettable night as an apology.

↷ part: 3/4 pt.1, pt.2, pt.4

↷ w.c: 2.3k (how can just smut be this long lord)

↷ author's note: last part finally lord yayyy!!! after much procrastination it's here at last. I suck at writing smut and specially breeding kink, so pls bear with me♡

Permanent taglist : @feat-sun @joonsytip @dinonuguaegi

If your two day old self saw you now squished under seungcheol's bulk figure, his veiny hard length pumping restlessly around your soft pink walls while his head rested in the crook of your neck,his sweaty forehead rubbing against your collarbones and his small wet stubby nose grazing against the back of your earlobes.....she would've definitely thought it's a severe case of fever dreams!

"You're my wife y/n and even...even more the bane of my existence, you...you can look at me as long....as long as you want baby" cheol's mouth reverbed against the length of your jaw, imprinting his very own mastered piece of red and purple marks onto any exposed face of your honey skin.

"Cheollie" your gentle dovish coo brings out cheol from the nest of your shoulders and instead lands his dewy melon eyes onto your sultry cat ones.

His ears were refusing to believe what was entitled upon them.....you called him 'cheollie', the very name you used to call him everytime before he fucked up the things with you, the one you cried out while holding onto his hands with your entire life as you gave birth to the daylight of his life, and that exact same name you used to moan under him while he pumped his juices deep inside your womb.

"Can, you, keep, on, calling, me, that, throughout, the, entire, night, today, pls, love?" with each word leaving his mouth, his lips left a following kiss on your face, the last one landing on your forehead.

"You don't know how much I've missed hearing you call me Cheollie, how I've missed your little giggles these days, your cresent smile, those round cheeks pooffing up whenever you become sulky - my second adorable child!" Seungcheol's hands now traveling up your waist through over your dress, the cold metal rings drawing in a sensation you forgot you even had the ability to feel, and finally resting on the bow that was the only lock to the mystical city beneath.

"But most of all, you know what I missed?" bringing up his face from the enchanting sweat of your skin, his eyes now bore their venom into yours, hands still wrapped around your torso. "The taste of this pretty little body of yours"

Even before you could flash him with the red of your cheeks, cheol's hands shift from your back to your hips, landing a tight squeeze on the right one to let you know what your next step is going to be; and as an absolutely obedient wife you quickly catch onto his signals and push up a little to wrap your thighs around his tiny midriff.

Seungcheol walks back with you clutched onto his body like a koala, lips never leaving yours swollen ones as his legs finally hit the footboard of the queen bed.

Twirling on his feet and placing you down upon the satin sheets, oh so carefully as his you were the one last piece of Lorenzo's sculptures; something he can never afford to even tolerate a scratch on; cheol dropped himself on his knees against the velvety red rugs, hands now fixated onto your bare thighs.

"A man is said to be the lucky when his lady has thighs as thick as the towers on a monument" his lips now land onto the soft jiggly mass of your upper legs, hands slowly creeping up towards the boundaries of your panties. "And me? I'm the luckiest to have these supple smooth brawns all to myself"

"Che...cheol ahh fu-" a sharp sting grazes the heat of your skin as seungcheol bites down onto a small mound of your inner things.

"What did I say darling? Didn't i tell you to call me Cheollie, huh? Do you want that slutty cunt of yours to go unattended tonight then princess!" his words make the awaiting river in your pussy finally run free down its source.

"S-sorry cheollie, but ple..please touch me already, I can't take it anymore" your own lewd words were ringing in your ears, making those rosy cheeks become rosier by the time.

"Touch where baby? I need clear words" cheol's mouth is now dangerously close to your throbbing core, while your thighs are left stained with all shades of purple and blue.

"At...at my...ummm...you know" it wasn't your first time having sex with him after childbirth, but it was definitely the first time of him catering to your pleasures and edging you to the brink, which thus made you swallow your words down your throat again.

"Hmm?" another attack from seungcheol finds its targets on you, but this time along the linen of your already wet panties, as his teeth sharply grazed against your clothed clit.

"Fuck it! I need you to touch my pussy please cheollie, it's literally aching at this point!!!" you were never a woman of prolonged patience and that showed up quite well when you brought one of your hands from the sheets to pull onto cheol's freshly smoothed locks....the other staying back to support your arched up back onto the bed.

"That's like my girl, so horny for her man's touch!" seungcheol's hands finally find the hem of your panties, pulling them down your knees meanwhile prepping his fingers to dive right into cunt.

Teasing your sloppy folds with the tip of his slightly outgrown nails, driving you literally nuts from the painful pleasure running throughout the entire length of your sweet petals, the grip on seungcheol's hair getting tighter with every

You were brought out of the lecherous utopia with the sudden contact of a pair of soft silken lips onto the wet ones of yours. To your utter disbelief, cheol was now sucking down on your cunt, something he has done only once, on your wedding night.

"Cheol....Cheollie, what are you-" a finger coated in your slick lands on your ever so talkative pair of crescent flesh.

"Ssshh y/n! You don't know how much I've craved to have the taste of your juices on my tongue!" seungcheol was a secret master of giving oral and now you were brought to acquaint that fact as his tongue worked wonders on your clit, flicking it like it was some piece of food particle stuck in his mouth. With his every suck onto your pussy, your grip of cheol's hair kept tightening to the near extent of pulling the roots out of his scalp.....but he was too drowned in your wetness to even pay heed to his own pain.

"Cheollie I...I am nea...shit" you flooded up his face cavities with your warm discharge, completely unannounced. As cheol slowly brought up his face from the home of your pussy, your eyes got hooked onto the absolute beauty infront of you.

Your husband's face painted finely with your white secretes , a proud smirk creeping up his cum stained lips seeing how insane he's already driven you just with his mouth alone, your skin glowing like a firefly from witnessing your slick is dripping down his chin down to his lap.

"That spawn of devil bestfriend of yours can surely bring a smile on your lips, but bet he can ever see this pleasure stricken face of yours!!! It's only mine to view and only mine to keep. My pretty little slut, aren't you love?!" cheol finally gets up from the floor only to throw himself onto you, his lips entwining with yours for the umpteenth time. But this time there was a kick to the usual hungry approach.

He bites onto your lips, forcing them open just so that he can make you taste your own sweet nectar on your tongue, realise how heavenly your insides taste, why he was driven crazy to devour your cunt you after two years.

"You know even the flowers would wither away from jealousy if they get to know that their honey is nothing compared to yours" seungcheol's hands now playing with the bow of your dress, lips never leaving yours. "But alas they'll never. Cuz I'll be the only one to know how sweet my lady tastes"

"Cheollie I feel empty...i want it now please". From the moment cheol layed down his entire weight on you, you could feel his strained bulge against your stomach, hands finding an excuse to palm them at least once. So as to fuel in your cravings, you tug onto the back of his head to pull him up from your lips and fix his gaze onto your pleading kitten eyes.

"Want what baby?" seungcheol absolutely knew what he was doing, pushing you towards the edge of the cliff only to hear you begging for him or more appropriately his dick . How could you even think that he didn't notice your hand ghosting over the tent in his pants.

"This? Is this what my princess wants?" he takes your hands in his and brings them towards his crotch to finally rest them on this clothed dick.

"Y-yes please. Can't wait" you whimper under him, hands impatiently rubbing circles on his hardness until they're swished away by his, just so that he could finally bring out his aching length to the spotlight.

"This desperate for me honey? Guess I've no other options than to mend to my sweet wife's needs" the smug visible wide on his face as cheol lines up his dick infront of your hole, hands traveling up your torso to undo the bow of the dress and let it fall aside freely; your tanned glazed body now completely bare to his eyes.

"Ready love?" how you wish you could capture the exact moment cheol's eyes turned from all teasing to so soft, asking for your consent to go in, and then turning hungry again when you give an ok nod at him.

Even after being almost moulded into the shape of his cock, your pussy still clenched like shit around his length, as if trying to suck out the last drop of life from his genitals.

"Taking me in so well baby, so fuckin tight" cheol groans between thrusts, feeling your walls close up onto his dick ; hands now playing with your breasts, kneading the supple flesh like a dough with occasional twists of your nipple between his fingers. "Fucked by me so many times yet still not perfectly framed for my cock"

"Guess I've to now leave my dick curved hole into your womb for you to harbor it easy from the next time, or" his eyes light up at the sudden mischievous thought. "Or even better, fill you up with a child so that my imprint is left in there forever, so that i can see you now enjoying your lost childhood with two of my seedlings, so that we can finally change Hana's name after making her an older sister, what say love?"

Your cheeks heat up at his comment. The sheer sight of you carrying his second child, birthing again and giving Hana a sibling just instantly feels you up with pure delight and content.

Your shy little smile and that dreamy expression on your face was enough fuel for cheol to start pumping into you at his maximum pace, putting the bed at a risk of collapsing down under the intense action.

"Gonna look as heavenly as the dawn angel with my child swelling in your belly and as sultry as the night siren with my cum filling up your dirty little hole" maybe it was his words or his high thrusts that you were now close to your second orgasm of the night.

"Am gonna cum cheollie" you look up at him with the most endearing eyes one can ever witness, even in such a lewd position.

"Cum for me baby, cum on my cock, show me how good your husband makes you feel" he picks up his pace again anticipating his own climax soon.

"F..fu-fuck ahh" and with that one last thrust both of you come undone on the cream satin sheets, the thought of paying for the damages next morning never bothering the two as seungcheol was a literal walking atm.

Seungcheol's eyes stay fixed onto your legs at the sight of his cum filling up your gole to the brim and leaking down your marked up thighs. He pushes himself in you for the last few times, making sure to nestle his precious seeds deep inside your womb.

"Couldn't let even a drop of it go to waste, right?" his face paints itself with a victorious smirk as he finally pulls out of you and plops down on the bed by your side ; arms locking you in his embrace as tight as possible while his sweat stained forehead rests on the crater of your shoulders.

"Y-you won't change back again na cheollie?" the post sex doubts hit you and you're now curled up like a ball along his abs, hands gripping onto his with your entire life.

"I know I've fucked up bad y/n and no words of assurance can heal it so soon, but please let me show you through actions now, that how much both of you mean to me. You two are the literal gems of my life love, my most beautiful princesses." cheol gently releases his palms from your hold and places them on the back of your head instead, circling soft gentle pats onto your silky cascades, like a parent comforting their child.

His eyes feebly shoot up to see why you aren't replying, only to find you snoring like a kid in his warmth.

"My cute little kiddo. I will give my everything to protect this family y/n" and with that he places a soft kiss on your forehead before drifting off to his own slumber.

[sethshead]

To free Palestine from Israel, first we must free Palestine from Hamas. Hamas is a force that abuses and oppresses Palestinians. It murders, tortures, and disappears dissenters, opponents, LGBTQ, civil rights and peace activists, and anyone who resists its power, including respected Islamic clerics. It allows women few rights save to be the brood mares for more shuhada. It steals food donations and resells them at inflated prices to the rich, provokes Israel only to then hide behind civilians, and denies civilians anyplace to hide. Hamas is a death cult. A Palestine under its rule, whether within the pre-‘67 borders or from the river to the sea, would be a violent, criminal, gangster failed state.

Yes, Israeli leadership must also change. Likud has never been willing to part with “Judea and Samaria”, no matter how much grief that causes Israelis within the pre-‘67 borders. Netanyahu has been a consummate bad-faith actor, and even the country’s more dovish leaders have still wanted to manipulate the “facts on the ground” to make final negotiations more advantageous to Israel. It is certainly past time for Israel to stop playing games with the futures of two peoples. But Likud can be and has been voted out. The same is not true of Hamas.

I accept that Hamza Howidy is not necessarily representative of the Palestinian electorate. I do not tokenize him; I simply agree with is observations and conclusions. Though most Palestinians do still demand a river-to-sea state or “right of return” (which in practical terms amount to the same thing), Howidy recognizes the obvious. Israel is going nowhere, nor are the Palestinians. Jews and Palestinian Arabs have connections to the land. Each possesses a kind of indigeneity and a right to self-determination in the land of their national origin, whenever that was. Neither wishes to live under the rule of the other.

Any one-state solution is foolhardy, an invitation to further conflict and bloodshed. None who desire that can legitimately be called a friend to Palestinians or Israelis. Recognizing the legitimacy of both of our national aspirations and finding a way to bring us together as neighboring states in respectful peace is the only thing that could remotely be called a victory for either side. If you and all your chants, slogans, rhetoric, and demands do not amount to that, you are doing more harm than good to both peoples.

[nshtn]

Effervescent You

Edward Nashton x GN!Reader

A little ficlet about Edward's feelings for you. TW for stalking and voyeurism. Suggestive.

Edward laid in his bed, thoughts consuming his ragged mind each night the way they always had – aside from one tiny detail, that was.

Tonight they focused deeply on you.

He wondered when it was, exactly, that he had fallen for you. When it was that his mind decided to insert you into the messied fray of mental gunfire, tried to force you to fit into the fragments of a framework he couldn’t afford. And he knew, deep down, that you couldn’t afford it either; if he abducted you into his world you’d fall ill immediately and become a withered rose, the last petals of your pure intention rotting in the decrepit vestiges of his mind. You had to be a savored candy, to be preserved like a limited gem; you were the sparkling foil mastercraft card of his mind, legendarily glinting in the light.

Oh... He could never say that one out loud. You would make fun of him… would you? For all the truth he could unfold from you, he couldn’t understand the absence of your outright social rejection. He waited, and waited, and waited on it, ears back and tail tucked, but the guillotine of cut contact never descended upon him. Hypersensitive hearing that focused on every word you spoke as he trudged past you in the office had you defending him when your coworkers called him a creep. Why? You were making things worse for yourself. He was a creep. Edward Nashton was a massive, horrible, gnashing and terrible creep, the kind that wanted to be the monster under your bed if only it meant another moment of you.

He sniffled and blinked as his tired eyes burned with salt. No more of that. He needed a distraction, now. But… he needed your distraction, yes.

His eyes sweeped across the litter of photos he had taken of you. You were snagged in time, the tiny crooks of your upturned smile radiating through him warmly as you pressed a wad of ones into a waitress’s hand. Oh, you were always so kind and giving, it comforted him at night when the cold crackled in his bones; he could imagine you there, pushing your jacket across his shoulders, and his cheeks would warm him. There was one where you bit into a sandwich, eyebrows knitted in savored concentration, the ends of your fingers paling with the size of it in your grasp. Cute – he wished he could feed you. One he loved, where you were walking home, hoodie raised to shield you from the cacophony of life as you adjusted a pair of bassy Bluetooth headphones. He had loved listening in ever since. He was so glad you’d purchased them.

And, then, another. This one... that made his face flush and guts churn, shamefully: your delicate tongue rasping across the surface of a swirl of ice cream, the flat of the soft pink muscle cream-covered and draping out from the pillows of your lips. Edward swallowed as his eyes lagged across it, taking in the little bumps of your tongue and the soft curve it made, wishing so badly that he could snake his own against it, mentally writhing with the need to have you for his own. But he couldn’t! You? You would never want someone like Edward, you barely knew he existed, and he knew that the less you knew the better off he was to stoke the flames of this… hobby. The more attention he drew to himself, the less of his mask of normalcy would be left for your curious mind to recognize, and you – unlike his other coworkers, he thought – were smart enough to rip it off of him if he didn’t checkmate your every reply.

He shook a little. He needed you like a drug, like drops, he was diseased and disgusting and deathly and delirious and… and you were dovish, decadent, pillow-plush and dreamlike. He needed to distract himself again, from… from you, this time. Edward coughed, a shaky hand fumbling through dusty crosswords until he felt the staple of a fresh one, snagging it with one finger pad and into the bed before pulling a pencil from his pillowcase. Silence. Silence the spiral.

All he knew was that he needed more of you. He'd get more of you.

[mariacallous]

Me among my fellow shitlibs: Given that Biden's dovish policies - especially pulling out of Afghanistan - didn't earn him fucking shit from the left, and given the actions going down in Ukraine and Taiwan, I think it's only a matter of time before America finds itself drawn into a war, especially against China. And despite how squeamish Democrats have been about America's role in being the World's Police ever since the Iraq War, since we can never count on the left to be true allies for peace again after how they treated Biden, Democrats will need be willing to be more proactive in dealing with rising threats, even if that means a radical show of deterrent force against threats like Russia, China, and Iran.

Me whenever moderates and independents are also within earshot: And that's why Kamala Harris is going to use our peerless massive military to peg every single of America's enemies that so much as looks at our troops the wrong way! Kamala Harris? More like Hawkmala Harris! U-S-A! U-S-A!

Pretty much.

Although, I'm also more inclined to a hawkish foreign policy anyway, and have been since easily 2008-2012.

[fangirleaconmigo]

Just so you guys know, I come up with so much Witcher pwp smut (and more dead dovish than my usual thing) that I never inflict on you guys. I tell myself I’m gonna create a different pseud or just start posting.

But then I have two jobs and massive WIPs that people are waiting on and I just don’t have the time. I just need to learn to write faster and to write shorter one shots that for real do not turn into novels this time.

I should post some of the scenarios and have you guys vote on which one to write just to get me moving.

[blissfulstarsfics]

Black and White Chapter 7

Read on AO3

Chapter Rating: E

Pairing: A!A X Female Tav (Non-abusive fic.)

Summary: Tav mulls over her night with Astarion, what it means. Meanwhile, he prepares to host another of his grand parties.

Tags: Astarion hosts an orgy. PIV, anal sex, cunnilingus, fellatio

The sun began rising over the horizon, bathing the master bedroom in a soft glow. Tav stirred under the sheets, a bit disoriented upon waking in unfamiliar surroundings. The ascendant rested peacefully next to her. There was no trace of last night’s nightmare on his relaxed and tranquil visage. Wanting to let him trance undisturbed, Tav thought it best to return to her room, but a strong grip pulled her back.

“Where do you think you’re going, darling?” he groggily asked. His eyes displayed a new possessiveness to them that sent a chill down her spine.

“I was going to go back to my room.” A meek reply. Astarion’s mouth curved into a commanding smile as he held her tight.

“You’ll get up when I say you can get up,” he kissed her brow, “and right now you’re not going anywhere.”

 It was futile to struggle against him. Not only was his might far superior to hers, but her own body sought to undermine her interests. Nestled against him, feeling his skin on hers, she contemplated if all those nights she allowed him to feed on her gave him a measure of control over her. If it did, she wasn’t minding it.

Tav watched over Astarion as he fell back into his reverie for a few more hours. It amused her at how this apex predator could look so dovish and serene in his slumber. Finally, his eyes fluttered awake when the sun rose high enough to shine its light menacingly onto his face. He sat up, groaning bitterly.

“I suppose we should start the day.” He smiled half-heartedly. Tav had wanted to talk with him, but she knew he was needed elsewhere. Most of the preparations should be finished, but there were always last minute flubs that inevitably happened. He would need to take care of those. 

The walk back to her chamber felt different than usual. She felt a myriad of emotions, some good, some bad. What did last night mean? What happens next? Tibbi was already in the room, setting up the wash basin and humming a cheery tune. The spawn was practically skipping from one corner to the next whilst performing her duties.

“Someone’s in a good mood.” Tav crossed her arms, smiling lightheartedly. Tibbi jovially nodded. 

“The master gave us permission to enjoy ourselves tonight and I intend to enjoy myself fully!” The maid’s titter took her by surprise. Knowing Astarion, there may be ulterior motives for allowing his spawn to be present. It wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility for him to use them to gather intelligence on his guests.

At the same time, she was considering if this was dangerous. So many red eyed and fanged individuals could raise suspicions. More importantly, Tav never thought Tibbi, the woman who was afraid of her own shadow, to be the type to so boldly attend this type of party. 

She sat Tav in front of the vanity to brush her hair, wearing a bright grin. The bard stared blankly at her reflection, as well as the disembodied brush going through her hair. Her plan for the day was to learn the guest list, put faces to names, but she was far too distracted. Last night was, as he would say, an awful lot of fun. Too much fun, perhaps. Now she was left with a painful yearning to be left screaming as he has his way with her.

Servants brought in the bath just as Tav’s hair was finished being secured in a bun. Watching the tub fill with steaming water made her melancholy, knowing she would soon be washing his scent away.

~~~~~

Chairs were covered, the ballroom floor was cushioned, refreshments were being prepared, and oils were being gathered. Astarion nodded in satisfaction during his inspection. He prided himself on being a gracious host, one who left no guest disappointed. Tonight would be no exception. 

Right as he was about to check that the back rooms were locked (hospitable he may be, that didn’t permit attendees to snoop), a courier arrived with a rectangular velvet box. He traipsed over to the lad, who was being generously tipped by Matteo, and took the package. A quick look inside confirmed he had received what he ordered.

Astarion headed straight for Tav’s room. He knocked on the door and let himself in. She was about to step out of the bath and into an outstretched towel being held by her maid. The women were taken aback at the ascendant’s brashness; coming into a lady’s room with barely any warning. After he set the box down, he took the towel from Tibbi and dismissed her. 

“My lord, your timing is,” Tav trailed off, trying to find the right words. 

“Perfect? Yes, I know.” Astarion sensuously ran the cotton fabric over her body, over her breasts, the curve of her buttocks, between her thighs. Once she was sufficiently dry, he let the towel drop to the floor. “Sit,” he instructed, pointing to the vanity. Raising an eyebrow, she complied, curiosity piqued. 

He opened the box and revealed a masterfully crafted choker of three rows of diamonds set in white gold. The gems sparkled as he placed it on her neck, the clasp making a tiny clink as it fastened. Tav raised a hand to touch the piece, mouth agape.

“Astarion, it’s beautiful! Thank you! What shall I wear with it tonight?” She moved her neck about to catch the jewels in the light.draw

“I think what you’re wearing right now is perfect, but that might draw unwanted attention.” Whether her receiving attention was unwanted for him or her, he did not say. He stared at the two of  them in the mirror. Gods, he loved how they looked together! “You should wear red, darling.”

“Red it is,” she agreed. Later, she would wear red. For now, her robe would do. Astarion sat on the bed across from her and leaned forward with a stern look. There was another reason for his sudden visit; he needed to iron out certain details.

“Tav, I need to tell you my new background. For all my ranting about not knowing your past, I failed to mention my fabricated history. The official story is that Cazador Szarr died unexpectedly in the skirmish with the Absolute without heir. His next of kin was an occasionally seen nephew,” he pointed to himself, “from a distant elvish town who permanently moved to the Gate to continue his work. Poor, poor Uncle Cazador. I’m still in mourning,” he giggled.

“Poor Uncle indeed. So, no one looked into your story? Into Cazador’s family history? Do they know you helped save the city?” Tav rolled her hand, beckoning more information from him. Astarion got up in a huff and moved next to her.

“Please, darling. It was little effort to have documents forged to corroborate everything. As for your other question, they know. I was in the city for a visit when I was abducted by the cult.” Astarion thrusted his chin, his nose stuck in the air.

“I must say, I’m impressed,” she nodded, “For once you remembered that details matter.” Her mocking smile wiped the conceit off his face.

“Ha. Ha. Ha.”

“Anyway, does this make me the dear friend you made along the way?” She shifted in the chair, one arm draped over the back with her weight resting on one hip.

“Precisely,” he bowed. Astarion stared at the seated woman, wondering if she knew what that pose was doing to him. The panels of her robe had peeled back, exposing the sides of her impeccable breasts. 

Grinning wolfishly, he spun the chair toward him. Tav made no effort to deter him when he tore the robe open and massaged her thighs. Her warm crevice didn’t seem quite ready for him. 

That would need to change. 

Astarion knelt down, threw her legs onto his shoulders, then buried his face between her legs. A few short licks and she was already flowing down his chin, begging for him not to stop, pleading to the gods. 

Luckily for her, he was feeling generous. Assenting to her request, he flicked the tip of her clit with his tongue, sending her squirming under his grasp. Try as she may, she wasn’t getting away from him. She ran her hands through his hair, shuddering from his touch until she arched her back in climax. Astarion mildly bit her inner thigh, losing himself in the titillating flavor of her blood commingled with the scent of her arousal. 

“Tell me, pet, do you want me to fuck you?” he growled in short breaths, freeing his cock from the confines of his trousers. Tav’s lips coiled upward. She slid off the chair to straddle him, but he wouldn’t let her have him just yet. Oh no. She would have to be polite. 

“Ah, ah, ah. I asked you a question. You need to answer. Or will I have to teach you some manners?” Of course, manners weren’t the only thing he was going to teach her. The ascendant poked and prodded her opening with his tip, encouraging her to give in to his demands.

“I want you to fuck me, my lord.” Hearing her say it like that sent a shiver through him. He pulled her onto him, moaning as every inch of him was devoured by her cleft. Astarion gripped her hips, rocking them in unison with his. It didn’t take long for her to move in sync with him. She was catching on quickly, his little lust filled pupil. 

“Good,” he quickened their pace when she tightened around him, “now come for your lord.” Astarion wanted to hear it again; the sound she made when she pulsated all around his erection. Her whole body reacted to him. He held her steady on his lap until she finally obeyed his command. Such a sweet, sweet sound she made. He decided to reward her compliance with his seed inside her hot, dripping cavity.

Amidst the heavy breathing and dizzying rush of dopamine, Tav managed to quip, “I’ll need another bath.” That, he couldn’t deny. He certainly made a mess of her, covered her in sweat, hair disheveled, his seed spilling from her. It made him protective, greedy. 

“Tav,” he stroked her face, “Tonight, I want you to lock yourself in here.” Astarion was beyond caring about being a hypocrite. She was his and he did not want to share. “Oh?” she tilted her head, “Is everything all right?”

“I won’t have anyone see you like this,” he traced his hand over her body, “No one,” he held her tight, “You’re mine. Now, swear to me. Swear you’ll retreat here before events get going.”

“You have my word, I’ll stay safe.” Tav sealed her promise with a kiss.

~~~~~

Eight o’clock came and it was time for the vampire lord and his…Tav didn’t know what to call herself, to receive their visitors. She descended the stairs in a red and silver gown, wearing the gifted choker. Her lips slightly parted when she saw Astarion awaiting her at the bottom in a matching doublet that he left unbuttoned his naval. That’s why he wanted her to wear red.

One by one people poured into the foyer. This was the first time in decades that Tav had played host to a soiree. To say she was nervous was an understatement. She spent the better part of the afternoon refreshing her memory on protocols while getting ready. 

“Soldier!” Karlach was grinning from ear to ear. Neither of them were sure if she would actually come. Either way, they wouldn’t have been surprised. Tav looked to Astarion, who genuinely seemed pleased that she showed up.

“Ah, my fiery friend. Or should I say ‘not so fiery’ friend,” he laughed, “I do hope you enjoy yourself tonight.”

"Listen, Fangs, I spent ten years unable to touch people and I intend to make up for that,” she jabbed his shoulder, “I’ll have most these fuckers worn out before midnight!” She rubbed her hands together, eagerly. 

As they went back and forth, Tav observed the stream of people flowing in, particularly the female attendees. She had no doubt that the majority of them had been conquested by Astarion; that much didn’t surprise her. What did make her heart sink was the fact that the women bore similar features to her. Same hair color, same skin tone, same body type. Was she one of Astarion’s many? The thought crushed her.

“Is that so? Don’t be too-” Astarion trailed off. He cocked his head, looking in the direction of the doorway. Tav snapped out of her thoughts, put her feelings under lock and key, then glanced over to see Lord and Lady Foxworth with Mariana Nightshade.

She leaned over and whispered, “Why did you invite them ?”

“It’s best to keep one’s enemies close, darling. I plan on uncovering the most delicious dirt on him however I can. What I don’t understand is why his wife is here. She’s never attended in the past.” The woman looked uneasy. It was clear she would rather be anywhere than this den of debauchery. Even Astarion seemed uncomfortable.

“Let me handle her,” she patted his arm. 

He gave an approving bow, “Thank you.”

 Guests were ushered into the ballroom, Karlach practically skipped inside, and just before she followed her husband inside, Analee was pulled away by Tav. The poorly masked awkwardness dissolved into relief when she saw her new acquaintance had come to her rescue.

“Miss Tav!” She gripped the bard's hands tightly, “Oh, I hope I’m not keeping you.” While Analee was outwardly being polite, her face vociferated, “Help me!” Tav squeezed her hands gently. Inside the ballroom incense had been lit. Smoke and scent billowed over the disrobing crowd, drifting into the hallway.

“Worry not. I’m not much for, well, this,” Tav waved her hand at the ballroom, “and if I’m judging correctly, neither are you.” The bluntness of her statement made Analee’s mouth quiver. She shook her head, dabbing tears from her eyes.

“Carlo wanted me to come and watch. To watch him-” The wafting smoke caused her to start coughing uncontrollably. Tav put an arm around her, quickly guiding her to the courtyard. 

The night was dry and pleasant. Much easier on the lungs. Tav sat the lady on a stone bench to catch her breath, while she grabbed nearby refreshments.

“This wretched cough!” Analee’s disposition began returning to its sunny nature, “A few tendays ago I was fine and now my lungs just don’t want to fill with air.”

“You said Lord Foxworth wanted you to sit there and watch him romp from person to person? Why would he be so cruel?” Tav may have felt a kindred spirit in Analee, and a sincere desire to help this woman, but she couldn’t deny an opportunity to get that “delicious dirt” Astarion wanted.

“Well, I may have made him angry,” she shrugged, “I’m sure you know that he and Lord Astarion are in a bidding war and he’s upset that I don’t support his ideas for the Lower City,” Analee became quite serious, “It’s just wrong! Building housing units in order to drain the pockets of the less fortunate? It’s immoral and unsustainable! He’s lost his sense of noblesse oblige.”

Something about this was key, Tav was sure of it. It may have been that her disapproval stirred basic ire in her husband, causing him to lash out in a power play, as many did, but her intuition told her there was more to this.

Anyway, dear, I’m fine now,” Analee grimaced, “I’m sure you have better things to do than sit and listen to me ramble about my woes.”

“Nonsense,” Tav puffed up, uncorking a bottle of wine, “Lord Astarion wishes for all attendees to be jubilant and if you ‘rambling about your woes’ increases your mood, then we shall do just that. You aren’t getting rid of me whether you like it or not.” 

“He’s lucky to have you.” The lady smiled thoughtfully, “I haven’t known Lord Astarion for long, him being new to the Gate and all, and I know you even less, but he is different around you than he is with those other women.” Tav closed her eyes, remembering the similarities between her and the other ladies.

“He certainly has a type, doesn’t he? It may not be so different,” she sighed. When she opened her eyes, Analee was glaring incredulously at her. Suddenly, she flicked Tav between the eyes. 

~~~~~

Revelries were well underway in the ballroom. Skirts and jackets and pants and tops were all strewn about the hardwood floor. Astarion sat on his throne, stroking the hair of a man whose mouth was firmly around his cock. Everyone partaking of the experience seemed to be enjoying themselves, but Karlach was the one who amused him the most. He observed with glee at her handling of a fellow tiefling under her, being ridden into oblivion, and a halfling on her lap. It was heartwarming, in a way. After being denied for so long, she was able to fully unleash herself. Good for her, he thought.

Three of his spawn indulged in his kindness. Tibbi was on her hands and knees, servicing a man in front and in back. The mage, Zeuril, had Mariana pinned down on the satin cushions. As he was rutting her, he briefly looked up at his master, taking Astarion by surprise. The spawn were never permitted to look upon him directly, not unless they discovered something. He slightly raised his hand in acknowledgement. 

Astarion clutched the man’s hair as he came down his throat. He wasn’t very good at what he was doing, but it gave the vampire time to assess the situation. So far, everything was in order. All gathered before him were filled with reckless abandon, satiating their most base desires as intended.

Two ladies bounced over to him, each tugging at an arm. They began fighting over who was there first, over who would get to fuck him and who would have to wait. 

“Ladies, ladies, no need to fight. There’s enough of me to go around.” He sat them on his lap, a hand in each, relishing in the power he held over them. One finished, then the other. Astarion let them slump into a heap at his feet. 

“Only two, Astarion?” Karlach taunted, pointing at her own pile, “You’ll need three more to catch up to me!”

“I didn’t realize we were keeping score. Very well, if it’s a challenge you want, I accept.” He got up and grabbed the nearest willing participant. Leave it to Karlach to add some extra spice into an already hot scene. Astarion bent the man over and plunged into his backside, torrid and raw. A pair of hands groped him from behind.

“I’m next!” Nurah nibbled on his ear as she made her declaration. Astarion finished his current partner and tossed him aside. He laughed in the young woman’s face, pushing her to the floor. Her mouth flopped around in disbelief.

“I no longer have use for cheap imitations. Find someone else.” He could hear Karlach laughing as he stepped over the humiliated girl. Astarion took two more, a man and a woman, and threw them down.

“Only two?” Karlach shouted. This time she had two halflings, one in each arm, with Tibbi. Astarion pointed at his spawn.

“No,” he ordered. Astarion, true to his nature, wasn’t above using trickery to win.

“Cheater!” She stuck her tongue out. Fortunately for her, with her domineering physique, she had become quite sought after. Once Tibbi left, she soon had a replacement. The rest of the evening proceeded in friendly competition, until incense ran out, signaling the end of the evening. True to her word, Karlach had half the guests worn out and just before midnight. 

Bodies rose from the now sticky floor, going through the equally wet clothing to figure out which garment belonged to whom. They crawled out of the ballroom, leaving Astarion alone with Karlach. He reclined against the wall, satisfied with the night’s outcome. 

“Well, Fangs, I think it was a draw.” 

“A draw. Yes, we’ll call it that.” He would never admit defeat.

She tugged at his shirt, “I noticed you kept this on.”

“I don't let just anyone see the infernal contract carved on my back.” He picked up her clothes, “Too many questions and all that.” She took her clothes with a smile. Karlach wasn’t without sympathy. Those scars were a painful reminder of a time when he felt he was at his lowest.

“Guess that makes me one of the privileged few,” she pounded her chest, “Ugh, I’m beat. The walk home won’t be fun.” There was an implication in her comment, one which Astarion picked up on.

“You can stay here tonight, Karlach.” 

“Yes!” She jumped for joy. Astarion shook his head, shrugging. Exiting the ballroom, he saw a sight he wasn’t expecting, or wanting, to see. Tav was busy seeing the Foxworths off when she should have been safely locked away. She and Lady Foxworth were cackling like hens as her infuriated husband dragged her away. He came up next to her, waving the final stragglers off.

“You swore to me you would lock yourself in your room. Why are you out here?” Astarion maintained a demeanor that was pleasant to the crowd, but also let her know he was displeased. Tav clasped her hands behind her back and gave him a mollifying smile.

“We were locked in the courtyard. Just the two of us and some wine.”

“As long as you were safe.” This was permissible. She was secure, she was within his reach, and that’s all that mattered. Astarion cupped her face in his hands, admiring her elegance. Tav’s fingers lovingly wove with his as he drew her in for a long, tender kiss. 

He yawned loudly, “Tonight was a smashing success, if I do say so myself. We will be having an overnight guest, by the way. Poor Karlach is far too exhausted to make the trip home.”

“Says the one who can barely keep his eyes open. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“Darling, I couldn’t agree more.”

Feel free to reblog, like, or comment. I love interacting with everyone. :)

[compacflt]

Hi, big fan of your fics. I've just found your Tumblr and binged everything Icemav-related. When reading about Icemav's political beliefs, I've gotten curious. Does Bradley share the same political beliefs as Ice (and Mav)? Does being raised by them or them pulling his papers influence how he votes? Or there are other factors in the play (e.g. generations, social media)? How about Jake and the other Daggers? How does this young generation of the Navy perceive politics (elections, gender, etc.)? My apologies for bombarding you with questions. But as a non-American, American politics have always been something we must pay attention to. I've seen many interesting interpretations on Tumblr but it feels more or less wistful than realistic, but I might be wrong (again not an American) so I would love to see your perspective on this. Thank you.

a good politics roundup post before i leave this blog

icemav & their conservatism: here, here, here

ice’s NECESSARY conservatism as commander of the pacific fleet (i.e. officers who are most likely to get promoted to the highest ranks do NOT break the service line when it comes to domestic politics, so by necessity ice would’ve had to keep his mouth shut, he Cannot be both a four-star and a revolutionary, like he just can’t; and being a revolutionary is otherwise antithetical to his character anyway): here, here.

and the original “ice & mav politics post” which is being updated here: here

I’ve gone back and forth on everyones politics over the last year of me being involved with these characters, but let me just tell you where I’ve ended up headcanoning them politically, if ur interested

ice: reagan democrat. “educated moderate” who was more right-leaning pre-9/11. now just a regular ol liberal (did you SEE those gay little round glasses in tgm? no way this guy isn’t a straight-up lib) with absolutely no strong feelings about most domestic politics besides “fascism bad”. Has some foreign policy opinions that areeeee questionable at best, like all members of the military elite (hangman voice: DO NOT ASK ICEMAN ABOUT CHINA. WORST MISTAKE OF MY LIFE). foreign policy neoliberal favoring the dovish side of the spectrum. A force conservator (“let’s save our military assets [read: my boyfriend maverick 🥺] for when we really need them, not for any old conflict. the deterring specter of the American war machine should outweigh the risk of underperforming”). He’s in favor of marriage equality of course, but treats it like a privilege and not a right. would be sad/upset if it got repealed but wouldn’t necessarily fight for it. “well at least my marriage will always be legal in california so i just won’t leave, problem solved.” Normie median Biden voter.

mav: political wildcard tbh. original 1986 mav is DEFINITELY right-leaning (i think i’ve written elsewhere, “he fully believes bill clinton is an affront to god”). i get young republican vibes from him. Full on patriotic (but dispassionate) 1980s reaganite anti-commie neoconservative. but after the 2010s i am very confused tbh. Tom cruise’s political aura is an insanely confusing one. idk. No matter what, Mav has some Hot Takes that a.) can immediately be shot down by ice using Facts and Logic at any time and b.) are not strictly partisan. He’s registered democrat just to support marriage equality (his marriage is his top priority but he doesn’t care about Other gays’ marriages, only his own), doesn’t care about any of the party’s other lines. Votes however ice tells him to. I get real “kind clueless libertarian” vibes from 2022 maverick tbh. Especially with the “isolating himself in a hangar in the middle of the mojave desert.” that has a political connotation to it for sure. bro just does whatever he wants out there

also, ice & mav live in San Diego, which… while in blue/democrat leaning California…is famously a bastion of right-wingers & has a hitler particle level off the charts… (sorry its not my favorite place in the world). That’s why they’re both continually so disgusted by San Francisco (a metonym for effete liberal homosexuality). Theyre from San Diego, hatred of SF & liberal SF politics is kinda par for the course down there.

Bradley: as u will see in the extras i definitely hc Bradley as an activist, but because he’s… in the navy and also like in his 30s… It’s not college campus activism, it’s just “things all of us in the left wing can agree upon” activism. so, like, BLM or pride, etc. He’s an “in this house we believe” yard sign liberal. He is 38 years old. hes a solid millennial so not politically hip with the kids (me)

Bradley & ice/mav disagree on the VISIBILITY of politics. Ice & mav, who did live through the vietnam era draft/near-dissolution of American society in the 60s and 70s, are not in favor of possibly losing their job/honor they have fought and killed for, for the sake of a political statement. And they believe their relationship IS a political statement, whereas Bradley would rather encourage them to treat their relationship like, I don’t know, a relationship that has a right to exist independent of politics!

Jake and the other daggers: idk. i don’t really give a shit about the daggers sorry. They r blank slates 2 me. jake especially is canonically frat-boy sexist in a way that gives me the heebs, much like original 1986 maverick and ice. But the navy tends to be the most left-wing (or thought of as left wing in common thought) service of the military, if that helps. But it is also the most traditional service of the military, and by traditional I mean BRITISH!!!! 🇬🇧💂there’s so much pomp and circumstance and hoity-toitiness that comes from the navy’s origins in the Royal Navy. A lot of sticking to outdated tradition in the very fabric of the navy itself, while the navy’s enlisted demographics shift younger and more left-wing/“revolutionary…” some interesting conflicts there. Like that one sailor who got blasted by multiple congressmen on social media for (with permission!) reading a poem about their queer identity on the USS Gerald ford’s intercom a few months back, if I remember correctly. Hoo boy the Takes that day were wild. Younger Americans tend to be more liberal but YMMV with officers, who are by nature trying to uphold outdated traditions of the navy for the sake of keeping the navy a unified service

i am of course writing carole as a christian republican who has gay friends and a gay kid not by choice but by the Grace of God

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

Yet for all the praise of Kissinger’s insights into global affairs and his role in establishing relations with Communist China, his policies are noteworthy for his callousness toward the most helpless people in the world. How many of his eulogists will grapple with his full record in Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, Bangladesh, Chile, Argentina, East Timor, Cyprus, and elsewhere?

Dismissing the arguments of dovish White House staffers, he came to endorse a secret U.S. ground invasion of Cambodia, which began in May 1970. In December, after Nixon complained that American aerial bombardment up to that point was inadequate, Kissinger passed along an order for “a massive bombing campaign in Cambodia.” Ignoring the distinction between civilian and military targets, Kissinger said, “Anything that flies on anything that moves. You got that?”

In November 1975, after the Khmer Rouge took over Cambodia and began its mass exterminations of civilians, Kissinger asked Thailand’s foreign minister to relay a message. “You should also tell the Cambodians that we will be friends with them,” he said, referring to senior Khmer Rouge leaders. “They are murderous thugs, but we won’t let that stand in our way.”

On another occasion, Kissinger expressed indifference toward the repression of Jews in the Soviet Union, telling Nixon in the Oval Office, “If they put Jews into gas chambers in the Soviet Union, it is not an American concern. Maybe a humanitarian concern.”

[rpseekz]

Lowkey just wanna write top Deku for a thread or two for bakudeku lmao

Omega verse, canon, AU, dead dovish, post-canon, idc

Obviously be 18+ and have discord, thnxxxx

[patibato]

[Bitter Sweet Sixteen] 002-A14 - KEY to The Upside Down

Akuta: Th-th-that's, that's uuuh, n-not… an egg! It's kinda shaped like an egg but it's not really!

Momiji: (He's really freaking out… I see… It is an indecent puberty-related thing, so…)

Akuta: Look, give it here!? Wrap it in the bag like this and~~! It's like a cold hard ice pillow that feels real good~!

Hugging it while you sleep is the best! Right! It's used for sleeping! In fact, I was sleeping with it just now!

Can't sleep without it! Without hugging it! Can't help being a Taurus!*

Nanaki: … Too noisy to sleep… What are you yelling for, Akuta…

Akuta: Nanaki, haven't you also needed your goat plushie to sleep since you were a kid!? Wo~ah, what a small world~! I also need this to sleep~!

Momiji: Oh yeah, you did mention a goat or something at the cafe. So that was it, Nanaki-kun.

Nanaki: Huh!? A… Akuta, you…!

No, could you stop!? Don't get the wrong idea! It's really not like that!

This guy's just joking around…! Right, Akuta!

Akuta: Ugh! Gh… ggghhh…!

Sakujiro: Wh-what a magnificent front choke…! Beautiful it may be, it is a dangerous technique! Please cease!

Nanaki: Don't worry, I'll let him go once we've left the room…! So excuse us, good night, hurry up Kinugawa-kun!

Kiroku: ! R-right…!

*footsteps*

Sakujiro: Please hold on! Where on earth is the gym you learned that from! Who is your instructor? Where could I polish that technique-!

Momiji: Sakujiro-san! Let's just drop it!

Sakujiro: But…!

Momiji: Teenagers have lots of secrets, okay…!

Ushio: Aaa… tea before bed is great. I can feel the caffeine working its magic through my body.

Muneuji: Look, the moon is beautiful. Its shine is brilliant.

Ushio: …It's dazzling. Makes me feel even more awake.

*door opens*

Nanaki: Haa, haa…! This is bad…!

Akuta: Aagh~~ today got to the point of seeing someone across a river calling me over~~!

Ushio: Hey… I think entering without even a knock makes you a lost cause, but do you have any excuse?

Nanaki: -It might've been seen.

Ushio: Huh?

Nanaki: The egg.

Muneuji: By who?

Nanaki: Chief, and… Sakuchan-sensei.

Ushio: HUH!?

Muneuji: Easy, Ushio. It's unbecoming to blame Nanamegi and the others alone.

More importantly, is the egg safe?

Akuta: Ah, it's probably fine. Did fall a bit but I don't think anything was wrong when I put it back in the bag.

Muneuji: Understood. Allow me to examine it.

Nanaki: … The countdown just keeps on going, huh.

Akuta: On that note, what is the countdown? It's not the same pace as a clock~

Kiroku: …It goes down one… about every 3.5 seconds.

Muneuji: I suppose it will be revealed once it reaches zero.

Ushio: And then, it'll go boom like the old school building?

Nanaki: …As I thought, we shouldn't have taken it along. Leaving it at the building was the correct answer.

Ushio: Well we did take it along, so no point insisting on that now.

Nanaki: I was against it from the very start, you know.

Kiroku: …

Ushio: Actions speak louder than words. If that's the case, shouldn't you have told a teacher right away?

You didn't want the adults delving too deeply into why you were there that day. So to get out of questioning quickly, you didn't mention the egg.

Nanaki: …

Akuta: No infighting~ we're already in the same boat! Let's get along.

Nanaki: We're not particularly fighting. Kurama-kun's unpleasantness is just flaring up, is all.

Akuta: Anyway, I'm on the side of keeping the egg. I might be able to encounter another explosion scene that way, y'know?

I could get a Hollywood-level shot without spending any money! That's too good!

Nanaki: I'm still of the opinion that we get rid of it.

Kiroku: …

Ushio: Huh, do you agree, Kinugawa? How nice. The dovish ones are content just picking flowers.

Kiroku: …Dovish?

Muneuji: Moderate. Conversely, hawkish refers to hard-liners.

Nanaki: We all agree that if this egg was in that classroom, another egg is what caused the explosion.

Moreover, the countdown keeps going.

I'm telling you, this kind of problem isn't something we can solve ourselves. …Before anything more happens-

Ushio: So you dispose of these kinds of unfamiliar things as soon as you're away from home?

Nanaki: That's a reach.

Ushio: It's not. That's why you can't discuss it with the adults.

Disposing of it is the only way to stop this issue getting bigger. That's what you two doves are chirping about, isn't it?

Nanaki: …

Kiroku: … …

Ushio: Sigh… could you stop looking like you don't agree at all?

I'm just expressing my own opinion. …How about we do this democratically, with a majority vote?

I'm against throwing it away. Idiotake is too. There, that's two votes~

Muneuji: Count me in too. I don't want to get rid of it.

…It may become a lead in my long-running search for aliens.

Therefore, I want to keep it perpetually. It was I who took it from the old school building to start with.

Apologies.

Nanaki: Kaguya-kun's reasoning is, well, I can accept it. But Kurama-kun, why are you against it? Let's hear it.

Ushio: 'Cause it seems fun. Seems like it could become a weapon for scaring the hell out of irritating guys. Is there any other reason?

Nanaki: … I don't even know what to say.

Akuta: Noooooow now now now! Let's leave that there!

We're three to two, which means we're keeping the egg.

Kiroku: …

Akuta: We're the ones who found this egg, and the ones who took it along. If you flip your thinking-

Isn't it like it wanted to be found by us?

"Use this, and render everyone speechless!" Says the scriptwriter, handing the protagonists a key item.

In short, we were chosen as protagonists.

This egg shows that we're different to those around us - it's a sign that we're special.

Therefore, the plot demands we keep it til the end of the story.

Nanaki & Ushio & Muneuji & Kiroku: …

Nanaki: …Got it.

If the counter continues as it has until now, there's still time before it hits zero-

So, we'll keep passing it around. …Here, next person.

Kiroku: …Got it.

Akuta: Yahooooooo! The same as always! Alright, if anything happens, get in touch with the usual walkie-talkie app!

Nanaki: If Chief or Sakuchan-sensei try to butt in, how do we respond?

Ushio: Just play dumb. That's what we're changing the owner for.

Nanaki: …Understood.

Muneuji: Is the matter settled, then? …Incidentally.

Everyone, how is your work proceeding?

Nanaki: I think… …I've got a bit of motivation.

Muneuji: ? You're making a somewhat pleased expression.

Nanaki: I look the same as usual.

Muneuji: Isotake?

Akuta: Not to worry, there's no need to rush yet.

Ushio: Idiotake's filming on the festival day, so yeah, no reason to hurry.

Anyway, I can't do it. I'm not making progress nor do I have the motivation to. And most importantly, there's just not enough time between preparations and festival day-

Muneuji: That's no obstacle.

Ushio: Wow~ labour violation much~?

Muneuji: And you, Kinugawa?

Kiroku: Ah… ah.

Akuta: Kiroku'll be fine! He's an incredible genius artist, after all.

Kiroku: …

Akuta: His drawings are incredible, so he'll have no problem making incredible lantern art to incredibly eviscerate all of humanity! I've got high hopes. Incredibly.

Kiroku: …Th…

Muneuji: If so, that's a relief. Well then, I'll brush my teeth, use the restroom, and head off to sleep.

Akuta: Same~

Kiroku: …

Ushio: He called you incredible or whatever, but aren't you just painting a predetermined design? That's practically AI work.

Kiroku: … …

Ushio: … Hellooo, anyone home?

Kiroku: ……

Ushio: Are you listening?

Kiroku: ………

Ushio: …Hey, I've wanted to ask you this for a while now.

Kiroku: -…

Ushio: Are you always like this?

Kiroku: …! Th… …

Ushio: …

Kiroku: ……

Ushio: Sigh… it's fine. Forget it.

Kiroku: ……

*Akuta says "そういう星の下に生まれた", a phrase referring to one's fate, but is literally "that's the kind of star I was born under", so… I couldn't help myself, basically

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Masterlist

[hasdrubal-gisco]

for what its worth, nasrallah was an extremely accomplished and gifted statesman and orator who succeeded in filling the shoes left by musa al-sadr a decade prior, a rare feat

with the inevitable collapse of hezbollah, iran's power in lebanon will wane, to the benefit of the christitans and baathists who are dovish for pragmatic reasons. syria will gain influence, but it's still be reeling from the civil war. a power vacuum is forming.

those left standing in lebanon should throw hezbollah under the bus and blame the conflict entirely on them as a bad-actor, and trade recognition for an israeli-funded rebuild in the south and beirut. lebanon had a good run with financial services growth throughout the 2010s becoming the switzerland of the arab world, they should embrace their phoenician heritage and get back to that