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mostlysignssomeportents · 15 days ago

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What’s wrong with tariffs

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in CHICAGO TONIGHT (Apr 2) with PETER SAGAL, and in BLOOMINGTON on FRIDAY (Apr 4). More tour dates here.

It's not that the Republicans and the Democrats are the same…obviously. But for decades – since Clinton – the Dems have sided with neoliberal economics, just like their Republican counterparts, so the major differences between the two related to overt discrimination, to the exclusion of the economic policies that immiserated working people, with the worst effects landing on racial minorities, women, and gender minorities.

So the Dems stood against discrimination in mortgage lending – but not for the minimum wage that would have lifted the lowest paid workers out of poverty so the could afford a mortgage. They stood for abortion rights, but against Medicare For All, which meant all women had the right to an abortion, but the poorest women couldn't afford one. And of course, in a country where racial and gender discrimination were still the order of the day, the poorest and most vulnerable Americans were racialized, women, disabled, and/or queer.

The Dems' embrace of Reaganomics meant that working people of all types experienced steady decline over 40 years: stagnating wages, economic precarity, increased indebtedness, and rising prices for health care, education, and housing. When Trump figured out that he could campaign on these issues, Dems had no response. Trump's "Make America Great Again" was meant to appeal to a time when working Americans were – on average, depending on their whiteness, maleness and straightness – better housed, better paid, and better cared for.

Of course, those benefits were unevenly felt: America was slow to extend the New Deal to racial minorities, women, disabled people, and other disfavored groups. Trump's genius was to marry white supremacy to economic grievance, tricking white workers into blaming their decline on women, brown and Black people, and queers – and not on the billionaires who had grown so much richer even as workers got poorer.

But Trump couldn't have pulled this trick off without the Dem establishment's total unwillingness to confront the hollowness of their economic policies. From Pelosi's "We're capitalists and that's the way it is" to Hillary Clinton's catastrophic campaign slogan, "America is already great," the Dems' answer to workers' fear and anger was, "You are wrong, everything is fine." Imagine having had your house stolen in the foreclosure crisis after Obama decided to "foam the runways" for the banks by letting them steal their borrowers' homes and then hearing Hillary Clinton tell you "America is already great":

https://www.npr.org/2014/05/25/315276441/its-geithner-vs-warren-in-battle-of-the-bailout

Racial and gender justice matter, of course, but when they're pursued without considering economic justice, they're dead ends. The point of racial and gender justice can't merely be firing half of the 150 straight white men who control 99% of the country's capital and replacing them with 75 assorted women, queers and people of color. The worst-treated workers in America are also its most discriminated-against workers, so the best way to help women, racialized people, and other disfavored minorities is to help workers: protect unions, raise the minimum wage, defend tenants, cancel student debt, and give everyone healthcare. In the same way that a special tax on incomes over $1m will disproportionately affect straight white men, an increase in the minimum wage will disproportionately benefit women and people of color – as well as the majority of straight white men who are also getting fucked over by people with $1m salaries.

Since the Clinton years, Democrats have been trying to figure out how to defend economic policies that help rich people while still somehow being the party of social justice. This has produced a kind of grotesque, Sheryl Sandberg "Lean In" liberalism, which stood for the rights of women who were also corporate executives. It's not that these women aren't treated worse than their male counterparts – misogyny is alive and well in the boardroom. But the number of women who experience boardroom discrimination is tiny, because the number of women in the boardroom is also tiny.

The right saw and opportunity and seized it. As Naomi Klein writes in Doppelganger, they created "mirror world" versions of social justice issues, warped reflections of the leftist positions that had been abandoned by a progressive coalition led by liberals:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

In right wing, conspiratorial hands, rage at wage stagnation and lack of parental leave turned into reactionary demands for an economy in which women would be full-time homemakers while their husbands recovered their roles as breadwinners. The 1999 Battle of Seattle saw mass protests over the WTO and a free trade agenda that would let capital chase low wages and weak environmental and worker safety policies around the world. But Clinton went ahead and signed more free trade agreements, which were also pursued by Obama. So the right filled the vacuum with a mirror-world version of the Battle of Seattle's rage at billionaires, transforming the anti-free trade agenda into racism, xenophobia, and Cold War 2.0 sinophobia.

It's a cheap trick, but Dems keep falling for it. When the right declares itself to be against something, Dems can be relied upon to be in favor it, no matter how reactionary, anti-worker and authoritarian "it" is. During Trump 1.0, Dems lit James Comey votive candles and passionately defended the "intelligence community," a community that gave us CIA dirty wars and FBI COINTELPRO. Anthropologists call this "schizmogenesis" – when a group defines itself by valuing whatever its rivals deplore, and vice versa:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/18/schizmogenesis/

You can see schizmogenesis playing out right now, as "progressives" make Signalgate scandal into a fight over poor operational security (planning a war crime using a commercial app) and not a fight over war crimes themselves.

Signalgate will be out of the headlines in a matter of days, though – unlike tariffs, which will continue to make global headlines throughout the Trump presidency, as Trump continues his "mad king" policy of recklessly and chaotically erecting trade barriers that are certain to make supply chains more brittle and raise prices.

For the most part, the progressive discussion of Trump's tariffs takes the position that tariffs are always a terrible idea – in other words, that Clinton and Obama had the right idea when they created free trade agreements with countries around the world, and Trump is vandalizing an engine of American and global prosperity out of economic ignorance.

Economists support this analysis. But in a new, well-argued editorial in The Sling, University of Utah economists Mark Glick and Gabriel Lozada present a more nuanced version of the tariff debate, one that dodges the trap of neoliberal economics and schizmogenesis:

https://www.thesling.org/the-failed-assumptions-of-free-trade/

Rejecting tariffs is practically an article of religious faith among economists. As the NYT put it in their reporting of the 2025 meeting of the American Economic Association, "free trade is perhaps the closest thing to a universally held value among economists":

https://www.nytimes.com/2025/01/10/business/economy/economists-politics-trump.html

Every Econ 101 class has a unit on David Ricardo's "theory of comparative advantage," which argues that different countries have different capacities and specialties, and that free trade allows these advantages to be shared to the benefit of everyone, making trade a "positive expectation" game. The corollary is that tariffs make everyone worse off.

As Glick and Lozada write, the logic of this argument is unassailable, provided you accept its bedrock assumptions as true – and that's where the problem lies.

Economics has an assumptions problem. The foundational method of economic practice is to create models grounded in assumptions that are either not known, not knowable, or – incredibly – known to be wrong. As Milton Friedman famously wrote:

Truly important and significant hypotheses will be found to have "assumptions" that are wildly inaccurate descriptive representations of reality, and, in general, the more significant the theory, the more unrealistic the assumptions (in this sense)

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/17/caliper-ai/#racism-machine

It's actually worse than it seems, because economics, as a field, has been violently allergic to empirically testing its assumptions, so it doesn't even know when it is operating on the basis of one of Friedman's "wildly inaccurate descriptive representations of reality." This is what Ely Devons meant when he said, "If economists wished to study the horse, they wouldn’t go and look at horses. They’d sit in their studies and say to themselves, ‘What would I do if I were a horse?’"

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/27/economism/#what-would-i-do-if-i-were-a-horse

What are the assumptions that underpin the orthodox view of free trade, then? As Glick and Lozada write, the case against all tariffs depends on five assumptions, all of which fail empirical investigation.

I. Full employment

The standard model of free trade assumes full employment – "when workers are displaced by imports, they can easily become re-employed at the same wages." This is the crux of the "social surplus" that free trade theoretically produces. This assumption doesn't hold up to empirical scrutiny. After the US dropped its tariffs, it experienced a 74% decline in manufacturing jobs – the best-paid jobs for non-college-educated men. Those workers didn't find equivalent employment – indeed, in many cases, the found no employment at all. From 2001-18, the US lost 1.132m manufacturing jobs to China, and gained 0.176m jobs manufacturing goods for export to China.

II. No externalities

The employment losses from free trade are not evenly distributed – they are geographically concentrated, and the greatest concentrations are in regions that flipped from Democratic strongholds to Trumpish heartlands over the decades since the US dropped its tariffs. The losses to these regions aren't limited to the directly affected manufacturing jobs, but all the other economic activity those jobs supported. The people who sold groceries, cars, and furniture to factory workers also lost their jobs. When young people abandoned the cratering regional economy, that devastated education and other services catering to families.

III. Comparative advantage leads to long-term growth and development

The theory of comparative advantage says that the world is better off when each country gets to do the thing it's best at. What are poor countries best at? Being poor: having a cheap labor force and weak rule of law to protect workers' health and the environment.

Without exception, the poor countries that grew richer did so in the presence of tariffs: "free trade is not a development strategy, it is a static policy that can impede development":

https://2024.sci-hub.se/1864/6d3f610c51446f057a4054080c70ab0e/chang2003.pdf#navpanes=0&view=FitH

IV. Floating currencies keep trade balanced

In theory, adjustments in the currency markets will rebalance imports and exports – countries whose currency declines will have to switch to domestic production, because goods from abroad will become costly. That's not what happened. Instead, foreigners have invested the US dollars they got from selling things to Americans into US securities and real estate, "which does not increase US productivity because it generates no new capital formation (at least directly)."

V. The US provides compensation for trade-related job-losses

While other countries with robust social safety nets offered retraining, income support, and other programs to cushion the blow of trade-related job-losses, the US – with the worst social safety net in the rich world – offered "woefully inadequate" supports to dislocated workers:

https://www.piie.com/bookstore/job-loss-imports-measuring-costs

Now, just because some tariffs are beneficial, it doesn't follow that all tariffs are beneficial. When the "Asian Tiger" countries were undergoing rapid industrialization and lifting billions of people out of poverty, they did so with tariffs – but also with extensive industrial policy and direct investment in critical state industries (Biden was the first president in generations to pursue industrial policy, albeit a modest and small one, which Trump nevertheless dismantled).

Trump is doing mirror-world tariffs: tariffs without industrial policy, tariffs without social safety nets, tariffs without retraining, tariffs without any strategic underpinning. These tariffs will crash the US economy and will create calamitous effects around the world:

https://archive.is/JvRF9

But the fact that Trump's tariffs are terrible doesn't mean tariffs themselves are always and forever bad. Resist the schizmogenic urge to say, "Trump likes tariffs, so I hate them." Not all tariffs are created equal, and tariffs can be a useful tool that benefits working people.

And also: the fact that tariffs can be useful doesn't imply that only tariffs are useful. The digital age – in which US-based multinational firms rely on digital technology to loot the economies of America's trading partners – offers countries facing US tariffs a powerful retaliatory tactic that has never before been seen on this planet. America's (former) trading partners can retaliate against US tariffs by abolishing the legal measures they have instituted to protect the products of US companies from reverse-engineering and modification. Countries facing US tariffs can welcome US imports – of printers, Teslas, iPhones, games consoles, insulin pumps, ventilators and tractors – but then legalize jailbreaking these devices:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/08/turnabout/#is-fair-play

That would deprive the largest US companies of their recurring revenue streams – from service, consumables, software, payment processing, etc – creating huge savings for consumers all over the world, and huge profits for the non-US companies that make these jailbreaking tools, and the small businesses that supply them. For example, your country could become the world's leading exporter of iPhone jailbreaking tools, and the world's powerhouse for alternative iPhone stores that charge 1-2% commissions on payments, as opposed to the 30% Apple takes out of every dollar (euro, pound, peso) that iPhone owners spend within their apps. This would tempt in all the biggest app companies in the world – from Patreon to Tinder, Fornite to the New York Times – who could offer their products at a discount and still make more money than they make on Apple's App Store.

But that's just one market this enables: the actual business of iPhone jailbreaking would likely work much like the market for phone unlocking more broadly: thousands of small and medium-sized businesses like dry-cleaners and convenience stores where you can bring your phone and pay a few dollars to have it unlocked and set up with a new app store where all the apps are the same – but everything is 20% cheaper.

This is a development opportunity without parallel. US tech monopolists worked with the US trade representative to rig markets around the world, allowing tech giants to siphon away vast fortunes from America's trading partners. These rich deposits of wealth are just sitting there, begging for some country to sink a shaft into them and pump them dry, secure in the knowledge that Trump has ejected from the global system of free trade and they have nothing to lose.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/04/02/me-or-your-lying-eyes/#spherical-cows-on-frictionless-surfaces

#pluralistic #economism #doppelganger #economics #free trade #tariffs #trumpism #anticircumvention #move fast and break kings #socialism of fools

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reasonsforhope · 1 year ago

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[Warning: Graphic (some very graphic) shark-fishing pictures at the link.]

"Suhardi isn’t your average snorkeling guide. Born on the Indonesian island of Lombok, he’s spent his life on water. While he now seeks out sharks for the enjoyment of tourists, he once hunted sharks to help earn money to feed his family and educate his two children.

Suhardi was a fisherman for more than 20 years. He first started fishing working on his parents’ boat, but was then asked to join the crew of a shark boat where he was told he could earn a lot of money. Back on deck, he looks embarrassed to divulge what a meager wage it was, but finally confesses he earned around $50 for up to a month at sea.

Now he and 12 other former shark fishermen are part of The Dorsal Effect, an ecotourism company that helps ex-shark hunters find a new vocation. Each week, the team takes groups of tourists, schoolchildren and university students to off-the-grid locations and guides them around pristine reefs. Each trip is designed to take guests on an exploratory journey of both the shark trade and marine conservation through the eyes of the Sasak people of Lombok.

Lombok is a hotspot for marine diversity, sitting just east of the Wallace Line, a biogeographical boundary separating Asia and Australia and their respective fauna. Pristine coral gardens and around 80 species of sharks can be found in its waters. The island is also part of the world’s largest shark-fishing nation. Only the whale shark (Rhincondon typus) is protected in Indonesia; all other sharks can be legally caught.

The Dorsal Effect first launched in 2013, a year after Suhardi met Singaporean ecologist Kathy Xu, who had traveled to Lombok to find out more about the shark trade. The diminutive but quietly determined Xu wanted to protect sharks, but because she knew shark fishing was poorly paid and dangerous, she wanted to hear the fishermen’s stories too. They told her how once they could fish for sharks close to shore, but now with the shark population dropping, the fishermen said they needed to travel farther out to sea, only to come home with a relatively poor catch. The reduced catch also meant reduced pay, so they often couldn’t cover their costs...

Yet, when Xu asked why fishers didn’t seek out another trade, she learned they didn’t want to be separated from the sea. They saw it as part of their heritage.

But as they spoke longer, the shark fishermen talked about the coral gardens that could be found under the waves, ones that only they knew about. Inspired by a whale shark diving trip she’d taken with scientists on the Great Barrier Reef, Xu had an idea. “If such spots exist,” she recalls telling the fishers, “I could take tourists out with you and pay you more than you earned shark fishing”.

At first, Xu guided the former shark fishermen on how to become eco-friendly tour operators. They dropped anchor away from the reef, served guests plant-based dishes, and made sure all trash was taken back to shore. But then Xu saw that something special was happening: The former fishermen had started to take the guest experience into their own hands, making sure tourists felt at home. Suhardi painted “Welcome” in large letters over the front of his boat, fitted green baize to the top deck for outdoor seating, and hung curtains in the cabin so his guests could enjoy some shade.

Suhardi has already bought a new boat with his earnings from snorkeling trips. “Every day is my best day,” laughs Suhardi, whose smile always travels from his mouth to his eyes.

While they were receiving tourists from across the globe, there was another group that Xu wanted to reach out to. “I think it was the teacher in me who felt impassioned about influencing the young,” she says. She reached out to schools and created a five-day program that would help students understand the shark trade and local conservation efforts. During the program, paid for by the school and students, participants would not only meet the ex-shark fishermen so they could ask them about their lives, but also hear from NGOs such as the Wildlife Conservation Society about their efforts to slow the trade. The Dorsal Effect also hired marine biologists to host nightly lectures and help the students with their field surveys...

The students were faced with the realities of the fishing trade, but they were also encouraged to take a balanced view by The Dorsal Effect team. The villagers weren’t just taking the fins, and throwing away the rest of the shark; they processed every piece of the animal. While they did sell the meat and fins to buyers at the market, they also sold the teeth to jewelers, and the remains for pet food.

The Dorsal Effect also takes students on an excursion to the fishermen’s village, a small island that lies off the coast of Lombok. Marine biologist Bryan Ng Sai Lin, who was hired by The Dorsal Effect team, says that on one trip with students he was surprised by how quickly the young people understood the situation. “One of them said it’s good to think about conservation, but at the same time these people don’t really have any other choice,” Lin says....

Conservation scientist Hollie Booth of Save Our Seas, which does not work directly with The Dorsal Effect, says the need to provide legal profitable alternatives to shark fishing is critical: “We are never going to solve biodiversity and environment issues unless we think about incentives and take local people’s needs into account. These kinds of programs are really important.”"

-via Mongabay, December 15, 2023

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lexirosewrites · 4 months ago

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I want to see more alpha!Steve and omega!Eddie. So, to be the change I want to see, here's a little modern, college au ficlet:

Steve is in college, taking his gen eds and trying to figure out what he wants to do. His parents are paying, proud of their alpha son and willing to be patient with him figuring things out. He's mostly walking around campus, drinking coffee, hanging with Robin, just being a chill dude.

Eddie is in college, double majoring in English and Music with a minor in education, busy constantly, still working on the side so he can afford food and rent, calling his uncle, playing guitar.

Eddie is an omega and has had a rough life: poor, abandoned by his parents, bullied, etc. He has never trusted anyone enough to court or share a heat. He's not a virgin but he's never really had a long term relationship.

Steve has had flings and a few long term relationships, he's openly pansexual (alpha, beta, omega, male, female, or other) and he knows he wants stability and love and a big house full of pups probably right after college and finding a good job.

They meet at a study group and while Steve is immediately down bad, Eddie doesn't know Steve enough to trust him. It takes weeks of study group before Eddie even gives Steve his number.

One day, Steve is assigned to be a weekend tour guide for a group of potential students at the college (Dustin, Lucas, Mike, Will, El and Max, plus Erica tagged along too even though she's just a freshman).

Steve basically adopts these kids and when he finds out that most of them play the same TTRPG as Eddie he rushes them over to wherever Eddie is at the time and introduces them.

Eddie sees how good Steve is with these random teenagers and starts to fall for him (Steve is still a chapter ahead, Steve has already been looking for apartments so him, Robin and Eddie can room together next semester).

Steve keeps in touch with all the kids, they have a group chat, plus Eddie and Robin.

Over spring break, Steve gets dragged away by his parents on vacation and Eddie stays back to work and study. The whole vacation Steve is talking about Eddie and his parents are thrilled: a smart, hard working omega who their son adores? Sign them up. They ask Steve when he's going to start the courting properly and lovingly try to prod him into doing so, even taking him shopping for gifts.

Eddie, meanwhile, misses Steve all week. He keeps himself busy but he's still texting Steve the whole week.

When Steve gets back, he's dead set on courting Eddie. He's bought enough gifts for weeks if not months of courting.

Steve rushes to find Eddie and ask his to court and give him the first courting gift. He finds Eddie and Robin having a discussion about how Eddie is scared because he doesn't get good things and Steve is kinda the best thing and Robin going "Dingus, you know he adores you, you don't have to be scared" and Steve bursts in, hugs Eddie and gives him his gift and begs him to court with intent to mate.

It all works out in the end.

Sorry if this is all over the place, I wrote it while making breakfast and chasing the puppy to see what was in her mouth (ink pen).

i love this!

#slick sunday #steddie omegaverse #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #my asks

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rebeccathenaturalist · 1 month ago

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Common Vs. Scientific Names: Which is Better?

Originally posted on my website at https://rebeccalexa.com/common-vs-scientific-names-which-is-better/.

I have a confession to make: my memory for scientific names is spotty at best. My brain is like that dog with selective hearing, who will ignore you when you try to get them to come back inside, but practically teleports to the kitchen when you say the word “bacon”. Sometimes I can rattle off binomial nomenclature with nary an error, but it’s all too common for the mental Rolodex in my head to fail to flip to the right card, even when the organism I’m talking about is right in front of me. (It happens with common names, too, so this isn’t just a binary issue of common vs. scientific names, and there’s a good chance that my AuDHD is at least partly to blame.)

“You want the scientific name for African painted dogs? Sure, let me just pull that up for yo–BALL!!!!!!!”

I would probably retain a lot more of at least some group of living beings if I had gotten a degree in biology or botany or some related field, where a lot of your foundational work requires you to not just memorize but use family, genus, and species names on a regular basis. Because my natural history education (outside of my Oregon Naturalist training) has largely been autodidactic, and relied quite a bit on layperson-friendly scientific texts, I didn’t have that pressure on me to constantly spout off formalized Latin. Of course, I have my favorite species–Canis latrans (coyote), Thuja plicata (western red cedar), Lactarius deliciosus (saffron milkcap) easily come to mind. But most of the time I just have to pull out my phone to look up the scientific names of what I’m looking at, even if I’ve done so before.

(Read the rest of the article under the cut.)

Certainly there are people whose professions require them to know those scientific names as well as their own, and the immense amount of time they spend studying their subjects mean they end up remembering both common and scientific names out of sheer familiarity. Moreover, common names vary from language to language, and so binomial nomenclature is a common tongue among scientists around the world studying the same group of organisms.

I’m not in that milieu, of course. Does this hurt my work as a naturalist? Not really. Most of the time I am engaging with the general public, and while there are certainly my fellow nerds who love learning about common vs. scientific names, most of my students, readers, and tour participants are content with the common names of various life forms. I imagine I would have a tougher time in an academic setting where I’m primarily working with people for whom Latin genus and species are (metaphorical) chapter and verse.

That being said, I think that “common vs. scientific names” is an unnecessary dichotomy. Both have their uses, to include in science communication with the general public. Laypeople are more likely to recognize and remember common names in their language because they use words they’ve already encountered. However, scientific names require them to memorize terms in Latin, a dead language that (unlike yours truly) most people did not take for their language requirements in high school. Recognition and retention are going to be tougher in an unfamiliar language, and so common names are generally more user-friendly.

As a naturalist, while common names are easier for me to pull out of my spotty memory, scientific names are crucial for me to understand the relationships among various beings. Knowing two very similar species are in the same genus tells me that they are close cousins, rather than products of convergent evolution. Understanding that there are over 30,000 species within the family Asteraceae means that I’m very often right when I surmise a new-to-me wildflower “just kinda looks like an Asteraceae“. And while I’m not going to bore a casual tour group by spouting a bunch of binomial terms, it is nice to pull one out now and then, especially if pointing out those aforementioned relationships among species.

So really in the end, the common vs. scientific names thing isn’t so much a case of either/or, but both/and. Each has its own strengths and uses, and you’re certainly welcome to make use of both as you see fit. But don’t stress if you can’t remember every scientific name of every living thing you run across. For the everyday naturalist, learn the names of your nature neighbors that make the most sense to you, and are best for connecting to these amazing beings around you.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider preordering my book The Everyday Naturalist, taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes or hiring me for a guided nature tour, or checking out my other articles! You can even buy me a coffee here!

#science #scicomm #scientific names #binomial nomenclature #nature #animals #plants #fungi #wildlife #long post #articles #educational

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communist-ojou-sama · 3 months ago

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The two sides, represented by Iwaya and Wang Yi, China’s top diplomat and a former ambassador to Japan, reached a 10-point consensus at the 2nd meeting of High-Level Consultation Mechanism on People-to-People and Cultural Exchanges between China and Japan, the first such meeting in five years, according to the Chinese foreign ministry.

1. vigorously promote youth exchange visits and encourage and support studies and tours between the two countries. 2. deepen cooperation in the field of education, strengthen the mutual exchange of students, and support the establishment of sister school relationships between primary and secondary schools, as well as inter-institutional cooperation between higher education institutions of both countries. 3. support cooperation in the tourism industry and introduce more facilitation measures to promote mutual visits between tourists from both countries. 4. build more bridges for exchange between friendly cities, and actively utilize mechanisms and platforms such as the China-Japan Governors Forum, China-Japan-Korea Cultural Exchange Year, and East Asian City of Culture to expand friendly exchanges between local and civil society in both countries. 5. strengthen sports exchange and cooperation, and mutually support the successful hosting of important sporting events such as the 2025 Harbin Asian Winter Games and the 2026 Aichi-Nagoya Asian Games. 6. support continued cooperation in entertainment industries including film and television, music, publishing, animation, and gaming. Facilitate mutual visits of high-level artistic groups and support the translation and publication of classic works from both countries. 7. enhance exchange and cooperation between media outlets and think tanks, playing a positive role in bilateral relations, and focus on improving public opinion and the media environment. Support both sides in developing exchange and cooperation in new media circles, and encourage positive content creators from both countries to interact with each other. 8. conduct exchanges between women's organizations to share experiences on promoting gender equality and common development. The Chinese side invites the Japanese side to participate in the Global Women's Summit commemorating the 30th anniversary of the Beijing World Conference on Women. 9. leverage the 2025 Osaka-Kansai World Expo into a platform for exchange and friendship between the peoples of both countries. The Chinese side supports Japan in hosting the event, while the Japanese side welcomes China's participation and will provide assistance for the construction and operation of the China Pavilion. 10. hold the 3rd meeting of the High-Level Consultation Mechanism on People-to-People and Cultural Exchanges between China and Japan.

#eyes emoji #diplomacy??? in 2025????

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haggishlyhagging · 1 month ago

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Looking back from our present vantage point, we can see that the single most significant step away from the concept that women needed an improved education only to carry out their housewifely or teaching duties better came with the founding of Mount Holyoke in 1837. Generally regarded now as the oldest woman's college in the United States, it made no such claim at the time. It opened as a seminary, and there were other such institutions then in existence. Mount Holyoke did not achieve collegiate status until 1893, after Vassar, Wellesley, Smith, and Bryn Mawr; yet it opened the way for them all.

Its founder, Mary Lyon, followed the path charted by Emma Willard, but went much further; in the fifteen years between the first steps toward founding her school and her premature death at fifty-two, Miss Lyon established certain fundamental principles which succeeding institutions accepted as axiomatic: the schools must have adequate financial endowment; they must try in some degree to make education available to girls of all economic groups; they must offer a curriculum more advanced than that envisaged even by Mrs. Willard; and they must prepare their students for more than homemaking or teaching.

Miss Lyon succeeded in her ambitious undertaking because, in addition to an indomitable will and a mind which left its fiery imprint on all whom she encountered, her purpose was perfectly suited to both time and place. Hers was a New England in which wider horizons for women were becoming a household controversy: where women were already more than homemakers and pedagogues. They were working by the thousands in the red brick mill buildings springing up beside every creek and river. The year Mount Holyoke opened its doors, anti-slavery women were holding their first national convention in New York, and the Grimké sisters were touring Massachusetts, speaking publicly against slavery; the storm unleashed by their unladylike behavior was convulsing the churches. There was a ferment abroad which stirred even women in obscure villages to ideas and efforts undreamed of a few years earlier. To a person of Mary Lyon's gifts and determination, here were the soil and climate that she needed.

She was born on a marginal hill farm in western Massachusetts in 1797, and as a child already showed astonishing mental capacities; like Emma Willard, she soon reached the outposts of knowledge then accessible to women. Like Mrs. Willard, she began to teach, and in the process, to continue her own education, to extend the existing curriculum, and to reshape teaching methods. With Miss Zilpah Grant she ran a successful academy, first at Derry, New Hampshire, and then at Ipswich, Massachusetts, but she was not satisfied. She saw the price paid in poor health by Miss Grant and by her friend, Catharine Beecher, for their staggering labors. She saw good schools arise, and then vanish, if a wealthy supporter died or lost interest. Like Miss Beecher she was obsessed with the need for good teachers. Most of all, she brooded over the young women who, like herself, wanted an education they could not afford: "During the past year my heart has so yearned over the adult female youth in the common walks of life, that it has sometimes seemed as if there was a fire shut up in my bones. I would esteem it a greater favor to labor in this field than in any other on which I have fastened my attention." To her mother she wrote in the same vein: "I have for a great while been thinking about those young ladies who find it necessary to make such an effort for their education, as I made when I was obtaining mine. . . . I have looked out from my quiet scene of labor on the wide world, and my heart has longed to see many enjoying the privileges, who cannot for want of means. . . . Sometimes my heart has burned within me; and again I have bid it be quiet."

In 1834 she laid her plan for a new kind of educational institution for women before a number of businessmen and ministers, who finally assumed the responsibility of raising the $27,000 estimated as necessary to build and open the school.

Here lay one of the major obstacles to success. Miss Lyon was herself the heart of the enterprise; yet the proprieties required that she keep in the background. It was not even considered seemly that she be present at the trustees' meeting which voted to locate the school in South Hadley, Massachusetts. She wrote to Zilpah Grant: "It is desirable that the plans relating to the subject should not seem to originate with us but with benevolent gentlemen. If the object should excite attention there is danger that many good men will fear the effect on society of so much female influence, and what they will call female greatness."

But when it became apparent that the men hired as "agents" were unable to raise the needed funds in the face of not only public apathy but a gradually worsening economic situation which culminated in the panic and depression of 1837, Mary Lyon herself entered the field, carrying the green velvet bag which became famous all over New England. When her staunchest friends objected to her incessant traveling and appearances at public meetings to ask for money, as unladylike, she refused to compromise her dream for the sake of propriety:

"What do I do that is wrong?" she asked in a letter. "I ride in the stage-coach or cars without an escort. Other ladies do the same. I visit a family where I have been previously invited, and the minister's wife or some leading woman calls the ladies together to see me, and I lay our object before them. Is that wrong? I go with Mr. Hawks and call on a gentleman of known liberality at his own house, and converse with him about our enterprise. What harm is there in that? If there is no harm in doing these things once, what harm is there in doing them twice, thrice or a dozen times? My heart is sick, my soul is pained with this empty gentility, this genteel nothingness. I am doing a great work, I cannot come down."

Miss Lyon herself raised the first $1,000 with which to launch the campaign, primarily from her former Ipswich students and teachers. Next she won support from men of means whom she visited under the escort of one or more of her trustees: there were two donations of $1,000 each, one of $640, one of $500. But in the last analysis the greater part of the money was raised because Mary Lyon, sometimes accompanied by a gentleman but very often alone, went to as large a cross-section of the population of New England as she could reach.

The greater portion of the total sum was raised from farmers and small townsfolk—men whose livelihood did not come easily, and women without any source of income except their handiwork, or what husbands or fathers might give them. In the old ledgers there are eloquent entries of five dollars, ones and threes, fifty cents, and one gift of six cents. Much of this money was raised at church meetings, small parlor gatherings, and sewing circles. There was a young girl in a sewing circle at West Brookfield who was making a shirt to help a young man through theological seminary, and whose thoughts as she listened to Miss Lyon have come down to us: “Among those who had sewed and spent time, strength and money to help educate young men, one dropped the needle and that toil and said: ‘Let these men with broader shoulders and stronger arms earn their own education while we use our scantier opportunities to educate ourselves.’ She never picked up the shirt again.” Her name was Lucy Stone.

-Eleanor Flexner and Ellen Fitzpatrick, Century of Struggle: The Woman’s Rights Movement in the United States

#Eleanor Flexner #Ellen Fitzpatrick #women’s history #us history #women’s education #mount holyoke college #Mary Lyon

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eretzyisrael · 14 days ago

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Sydney, Australia – 31/03/2025

StandWithUs Australia unequivocally condemns the defamatory, misleading, and ideologically driven open letters sent to Monash University, the University of Sydney, and UTS management in response to our upcoming campus events.

Let’s call these letters what they are: a coordinated smear campaign designed to intimidate universities, silence survivors of terror, and push a radical, one-sided political agenda. These are not good-faith expressions of concern. They are full of provable lies, dangerous rhetoric, and blatant hypocrisy.

What’s being attacked? Two educational programs:

‘Survived to Tell’, a powerful virtual reality experience sharing the personal testimonies of Israeli survivors of the October 7 massacre and the war in northern Israel — not propaganda, not politics, just truth.

‘Shared Stories – Interfaith Voices for a Cohesive Future’, featuring Israeli Druze, Christian, Muslim and Jewish speakers standing together for unity, coexistence and understanding — the very values universities claim to uphold.

These programs have toured more than 60 campuses around the world. They promote education, empathy, and social cohesion. And yet, staff and activist groups are demanding they be shut down. Why? Because they dare to give space to Israeli voices.

Let’s be clear:

StandWithUs Australia is an Australian organisation, working in partnership with Israeli civil society, not a “foreign propaganda arm.”

Our speakers include civilians, educators, and interfaith voices — not “genocide apologists.”

The VR experience is grounded in real testimonies and developed with the utmost sensitivity and respect for human dignity.

To say that these programs “traumatise” students is insulting — especially when Jewish students have faced relentless harassment and antisemitism on these very same campuses with no institutional response.

The language in these letters is reckless. It accuses universities of enabling war crimes and hosting “propagandists” simply for allowing an educational event to proceed. It slanders IDF veterans — some of whom lost family on October 7 — as war criminals. It equates Israeli civilians with oppressors. And it does all of this while demanding censorship in the name of “safety.”

This is not activism. It is academic bullying. It is institutional cowardice wrapped in moral grandstanding. And if university leaders continue to yield to these types of campaigns, they should expect more of the same — more silencing, more division, more threats to open discourse and academic freedom.

We urge the Vice-Chancellors of Monash, USYD, and UTS — and all university leadership — to stand up to intimidation, defend truth and facts over ideology, and reaffirm the core mission of higher education: to educate, not indoctrinate.

Links to the open letters to USYD, UTS and Monash.

USYD https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScyn_snnkkrYZkAIYtgKso5EgdtQqkGwtWGdM76CEaM9RlG6A/viewform?pli=1&fbclid=PAZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAaYz3lbXVbXvhQ5Lv5D-ZdZlXNWhK7Qf_wl3_OxyQOdty58tKoKm7M9cvuw_aem_v6_Nve-pXLFYDicFphFw9Q

#standwithus #survived to tell #shared stories #standwithus australia #monash university #university of sydney

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opstechsanjana · 2 months ago

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School Day Trip to Avani Agro Tourism in PCMC Pune | Fun & Educational Activities

#School day trip in Avani Agro Tourism #School trips in PCMC Pune #Educational tours at Avani Agro Tourism #Farm experience for students Pune #Outdoor activities for school children PCMC #Agro tourism school trips Pune #Student outings Avani Agro Tourism #Fun learning trips in PCMC Pune #School group activities at Avani Pune #PCMC Pune school day excursion #https://www.avaniagrotourism.com/school-day-trip.php

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chaotic-on-main · 1 year ago

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HEYY can I get uhhh a vanilla bean sugar cone with candy pls? 🎀

(And they’re both shy and blushy heheh)

Order up!! One vanilla bean sugar cone with candy for Tay!!

Sky's Summer Fall and 250 Follower Event!

☾ Pairing ➼ Armin Arlert x gn!Reader

☾ Content/Warning ➼ fluff, modernau, mutual pining

☾ A/N ➼ hi hi bby!! :3 thank you for sending a request in. i actually had one completely different planned but for the time, i had to move it and decided to go in a different direction. worry not though, i do plan to write that other one eventually!! because it's so cute. ANYWHO. have a cute armin hehe reader isn't too blushy but she is on the inside! i hope you like it!! happy birthday to the babiest of all babies, armin <3

☾ Wordcount ➼ ~2.2k

Armin Arlert spent his whole life busting his ass for a successful future. At a young age, he lost his parents from a plane accident and since then it's been just him and his grandfather. Due to his grandfather's old age, he did what he could to step up as soon as he was old enough – working odd jobs despite his long hours in school during the day.

With great persistence, he worked hard enough to get into a decent college off the coast to pursue an education in marine biology but of what focus, he wasn't sure. Regardless, to say Armin was tired would be an understatement.

With his program came multiple opportunities to gain experience in his field. At first, he dabbled in small research groups, taking samples of the local corals and sea water – but it wasn't nearly as satisfying to him as when he got to volunteer once a week in the aquarium just a few miles south of campus.

It took a few semesters to gain the necessary certifications and log enough dives to qualify. But eventually, he was able to start working as a diver, helping observe animal behavior and cleaning what was needed.

Armin has loved the sea for as long as he could remember, something his grandfather had instilled in him as a distraction from his deceased parents. It wasn't until his late teens that he was able to actually visit one, let alone live by one. Nothing could have prepared him for how much he would love it.

Even more so when he was underwater, whether it be in a tank or the wide ocean. There was nothing quite like the warbled silence that comes with diving deep in the fish tanks in full gear, nothing but various sea life and bubbles floating around him. But even with all of the beauty that surrounds him, nothing compared to the person that walks by the tank every shift with a gaggle of young kids and their chaperoning adults following behind.

You, the tour guide who worked every Saturday and a student who sat two rows ahead of him in the organic chemistry class you both shared.

In class, you were studious as ever. Attentive to every word the professor said. Typing away with nimble fingers at every comment and question proposed. Every day you would walk in like you were floating on air, a bright smile on your lips that matched the same shine in your beautiful eyes. There have been a couple times that you shot him one of those smiles and he swears he could have dropped dead then. He doesn't know when he developed this crush on you, but it was all consuming.

So he watches as he always does, you coming down the ramp with that smile and your arms flying around animatedly as you talked about the next tank – the one he was in. Like clockwork, you raise your hand and look over to him then wave prompting the little ones to wave as well. Armin waves back, as he always does, but his bright blue eyes don't leave your face.

Just as quick as you came, you ask your group a question before starting off in the next tank's direction. On your way past, you look up to where Armin still floats and offer him another small wave, this time your gaze lingering on him. If his face wasn't covered up, you would have seen the warmest pink flush his face.

The conversations between the two of you remained professional for the most part, whether it be about the aquarium or the coursework load. Armin would love to extend that conversation with you, but he was always too nervous around you. He was lucky to get more than thirty words out before choking or having to pull away for air. There was something about you that was just so intoxicating and Armin had no idea how to navigate that, never mind the fact that he hadn't had time to even think about dating ever with his busy schedule.

But one day, you made it easier for him.

Sometime during the late fall months, you found Armin in the break room propped up in the back corner with a book in one hand and sandwich in the other, half eaten. His blue eyes are practically glued to the page with his mind in another world, so much so that he doesn't even hear you come in. You take a moment to inspect his face. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern as his gaze flits across the words.

“That must be one hell of a book.” You joke as you walk over to your work locker. You miss the way Armin jumps at your sudden voice, but settle down quickly because he realizes it's you.

“I didn't hear you come in. It really is! Have you read it?” His soft voice responds back.

You look over your shoulder to see Armin holding up his book with a small smile. At first glance, you notice the big Stephen King across the top of the cover. Under that is a picture you know all too well with the title, ‘The Institute’. The biggest smile pulls at your cheeks as you see Armin holding your favorite book at the moment.

“I love that book! I've read it at least a few times!” You exclaim as you grab your belongings and sit on the chair next to him. Armin's heart leaps into his throat at your sudden proximity. Your faint honey-vanilla perfume dances in his senses as you lean over to get a better look at where he was at in the story.

“Oh you’re just at my favorite part, too!” Armin has to pull back so that you don't bump heads with him. He's never been so close to you before, but now that he is, he takes in the beauty of your face and complex coloration in your eyes. You raise an eyebrow at him, and he just now realizes that you've asked him something.

“W-what was that?” He squeaks out, feeling his face warm even more.

“I was asking how you liked the escape scene. It's so thrilling right??” You lean back finally but Armin still feels like he can't breathe from being near you.

“I- yeah. It's stressful for sure.” He smiles back at you, cautious but sweet.

“I'm sorry for getting so in your face, I'm just so excited to see someone I know reading that. It's easily my most recommended read.” You dig in your bag as you continue on, searching for the cool metal of your car keys that must be buried deep.

“What was your favorite part, if you don't mind me asking?” Armin carefully closes the book, making sure to place his bookmark in the right spot before doing so. Your excitement and happiness radiates off you like the sun.

“Oh my gosh, I love questions! It's gotta be when Nick and Kalisha kiss! I shipped them for so long so when they finally did that, it was like it all paid off. Not to mention that it was placed during a high tension moment!! I love those kinds of kisses. And you never would have thought they would end up like that, you know? Like, it's one of those romances where they end up falling for each other due to their circumstances and what not. It's just so cute!” You rattle on, staring straight into Armin's crystal blue eyes with a large grin on your face.

Armin’s interactions with you were always brief that he never really knew you, so to see this side of you was surprising to say the least. Not like it was a bad thing though, he already had a crush on you but now he was enamored. He could listen to you talking about your favorite things all day, he thinks.

“You think it's weird that such a little moment would be my favorite, don't you?” You tease, not a hint of distress in your tone.

“No! Not at all! Different, perhaps. But interesting for sure!” Armin waves his hands in front of his chest in a defensive manner, the book's pages fluttering from the back and forth motion.

“Good, because I was about to tease you about how goofy you look in your diving gear.” You laugh, the sound of it reverberating off the break room's walls. It tickles his brain in a pleasant way.

“What's wrong with my gear?” Armin glances at the clock briefly and notices he only has a few minutes left before he needs to get ready to leave for his night job. He found it easier for himself if he brought everything he needed for the day instead of going back and forth from his apartment.

“Nothing, silly. I'm just kidding. You look rather dashing in it, if I may be so blunt.” You mutter as you force your face into your bag. You still haven't been able to find your keys. Because of that, you miss the shell-shocked expression gracing his soft face. It's gone though as soon as you pop your head out. “Ah-ha!” You pull out a keychain with various charms sparkling off the bright fluorescents.

“Seems like it's time for us to head out, huh?” You check the time on your phone with a soft sigh before glancing over at him. Seems to Armin that he's not the only one who noticed you both left at the same time most days.

“Hey Armin, what are you doing tomorrow?” You ask innocently as you stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulder then turning to face the blushy blonde.

“Um, well it's my day off so I'll be catching up on some school work.” Armin stands up too, and much to your shock, you notice how much taller he is to you. Whenever you talked to him or worked with him, he was always in the tank or sitting at his desk. He wasn't towering per se, but you absolutely had to look up to keep his gaze.

“There's this bookshop that I've been dying to visit and I heard it has some published research journals I think would be great for our end of the year project.”

“Oh, uh. That's awesome, you'll gave to tell me what you think of it in class on Monday.”

“Well, why don't you come see it for yourself. Shopping is always fun with people you know, right? Do you have about an hour or so to spare?” You adjust the strap of your bag, mainly out of the sheer anxiety that floods your veins. You kept up a solid front, but inside you were churning.

“Yeah!-“ His voice jumps an octave before clearing his throat in a way to compose himself. “I can make time for that, sure.”

“Awesome! I think I still have your number from that homework assignment a few months ago so I'll message you when I'm ready tomorrow, yeah?” Another wide grin pulls from your cheeks, your stomach somersaulting at his cute expression. You were nervous around him but he was just so adorable, it made everything easier.

His heart quickens in pace as he fumbles with putting his own things away into his bag and zipping it tight. There's a pause as he watches you give him one more smile before turning on your heel for the door. He reaches a hand out as if to stop you but he hesitates. Is this what he thinks you're asking? If you were anyone else, he wouldn't have been so bold but there's something about you that makes him want to be a little more brave. So he calls your name to get your attention.

“Wait! Is this… is this a date?” His voice cracks ever so slightly.

“If you'd like that, yeah.” Your upper half turns in his direction as you throw him a cheeky smile.

“I would love that, actually.” Armin shuffles his feet, looking down at them only for a second before meeting your eyes once again. You're met with a shy smile and the softest shade of pink lighting up his face.

“Great. Then I'll see you tomorrow for our date.” And with that you're out the door, the lingering scent of your perfume the only proof of the interaction he just had with you. His hand closes in front of him, as if to grab hold of this moment.

On his way to his car, an inkling of a voice telling Armin he didn't have time for something like this creeps up on him. He had homework to catch up on, and not to mention the school week started up again so soon. For once though, he finds himself being able to overpower that voice so much so it turns into a whisper. He was allowed something like this. And if part of his day off included you, well. Working harder to make up some things would be worth it.

#sky's summer event #armin arlert #armin x reader #armin arlet #armin arlert x reader #armin arlet x reader #x reader #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #fluff #modernau #asked #answered

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mostlysignssomeportents · 20 days ago

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#RedForEd rides again in LA

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in CHICAGO with PETER SAGAL on WEDNESDAY (Apr 2), and in BLOOMINGTON on FRIDAY (Apr 4). More tour dates here.

The LA Teachers' Union is going on strike.

Fuck.

Yes.

The last time the LA teachers struck was in the midst of the 2019 #RedForEd wave, which kicked off during the last Trump presidency. All across the country, teachers walked out – even in states where they were legally prohibited from doing so. These strikes were hugely successful, because communities across the nation rallied around their teachers, and the teachers returned the favor, making community justice part of their goals.

This was true across America, but it was especially true in Los Angeles, where the teachers were militant, united, relentless, and brilliant. The story of the 2019 LA Teachers' Strike is recounted in Jane McAlevey's essential 2021 book A Collective Bargain, which recounts her history as a union organizer on multiple successful unionization drives and strikes, including that fateful teachers' strike:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/23/a-collective-bargain/

McAlevey learned her tactics from a lineage of organizers who predated the legalization of unions and the National Labor Relations Act. Accordingly, her organizing method didn't rely on bosses obeying the law, or governments sticking up for workers. She fought for victories that were won by pure worker power. The 2019 LA teachers' strike is a fantastic example, a literal textbook case about rallying support from the entire shop – including affiliated workers, like bus-drivers – and then broadening that massive support by bringing in related trades (the LA charter school teachers walked out with their public school comrades), and the community.

The LA teachers' community organizing was incredible. They worked with community groups to understand what LA families really needed, and made those families' demands into union demands. The LA teachers' demands included:

in-school social workers;

parks and green-spaces in or near every LA public school; and

a total ban on ICE agents shaking down parents at the school gates.

Environmental justice, immigration justice, racial justice – these issues were every bit as important to the LA teachers in 2019 as wages, working conditions and vacation pay. And. They. WON.

Not only did the LA teachers win everything they struck for, they built an enduring community organization that ran a massive get out of the vote effort for the 2020 elections and flipped two seats for Democrats, securing Biden's Congressional majority.

So now the teachers are walking out again, and while their demands include wage increases (the greedinflation crisis wiped out many of the gains won in the 2019 strike – though imagine how much worse things would be without those gains!), the demands also include a slate of bold, no-fucks-given, material measures to fight back agains the Trump administration and its fascism:

https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2025-03-26/l-a-teachers-union-pursues-salary-hike-progressive-goals-amid-trump-agenda

This time around, the LA teachers are demanding:

"targeted investment in the recruitment and retention of BIPOC, multilingual and immigrant educators and service providers" – that's right, the DEI stuff that makes Trump's incipient aneurysm throb visibly in his temple (keep throbbing, li'l guy, I believe in you!).

"support for, defense and expansion of the school district’s Black Student Achievement Plan and Ethnic Studies" – the same programs that make wrestling faildaughter Linda McMahon get the fantods.

“strengthened policies to support LGBTQIA+ students, educators and staff” – take that, Elon.

"increased support for immigrant students and families, with and without documentation, including support for newcomers" – up yours, Stephen Miller, you pencilneck Hitler wannabe.

Where'd all these demands come from? 665 meetings that solicited input from "students, parents and other community members." In other words, these are our demands – the demands of Angelenos.

Trump is a scab. Musk is a scab. They hate unions. They've put the National Labor Relations Board into a coma, illegally firing a board member so that the board no longer has a quorum and can no longer take most actions. But the tactics the LA teachers used to organize their victory under the last Trump regime didn't rely on the NLRB – it relied on worker power. That power is only stronger today. The NLRB exists because workers built power when unions were illegal. Killing the NLRB doesn't kill worker power. Worker power comes from workers, not the government:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/29/which-side-are-you-on-2/#strike-three-yer-out

Now that Trump has canceled labor laws, all bets are off. Trump is illegally breaking the contracts of federal workers, as a prelude to eliminating unions nationwide. As Hamilton Nolan writes, this is the time to take a stand:

It is unreasonable to run around demanding a general strike every time a single union gets in a hard fight. It is not unreasonable to demand a general strike when the very existence of unions is under direct attack by a government that cares nothing about us, and does not respect our contracts, and is attempting to throw in the trash the union contracts covering hundreds of thousands of our fellow union members, as a step towards doing the same thing to millions more of our fellow union members. This is the bombing of Pearl Harbor, against the labor movement. Will we say, “We are filing a lawsuit against this illegal bombing, and we will keep you all updated as it progresses?” Will we say, “Pearl Harbor is way out in Hawaii. I’m glad those bombs didn’t fall where I live.” These are the terms that the union world needs to be thinking in, right now. This is not an exaggeration. If we do not go to war, the husk of American unions that emerges at the end of the Trump administration will be, probably, about half as big as it was when the Trump administration started, and immeasurably weaker. That is not an acceptable outcome if you believe that increasing organized labor’s strength is the key to saving this country, which it is.

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/they-are-going-to-take-everything

McAlevey – who died in 2024 – agreed with Nolan. She wrote vibrantly about how union organizing, and the solidarity it nurtures, was the key to a revitalized democracy and a nation that truly takes care of its people, rather than lining them up in billionaires' feedlots.

I gotta go. I'm on my way to a Tesla protest. Maybe you could find one near you to join, too:

https://actionnetwork.org/event_campaigns/teslatakedown

But if I don't see you at this one, I'll see you on the picket line – with the LA teachers, the federal workers, and everyone else who's taking a stand against this scab presidency.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/29/jane-mcalevey/#trump-is-a-scab

#pluralistic #la teachers unions #redfored #jane mcalevey #labor #nlrb #trumpism #unions #hamilton nolan

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beardedmrbean · 7 months ago

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Six employees of New York City’s public school system took their children or grandchildren on trips to Disney World, New Orleans and other locations using tickets that were meant for homeless students, investigators said in a newly released report.

The trips intended as enrichment for students living in shelters and other temporary housing also included excursions to Washington, D.C., Boston and Broadway shows, said Anastasia Coleman, the special commissioner of investigation for New York City schools.

According to the report released this month, Linda Wilson, the Queens regional manager for the office that supports students in temporary housing, took her own children on trips that were paid for through grants for homeless students and encouraged employees she supervised to do the same but to keep quiet about it.

“What happens here stays with us,” one staffer quoted Wilson as saying.

Read: SpaceX to launch NASA’s Europa Clipper spacecraft to study Jupiter moon

Contacted by the New York Post, Wilson denied bringing her two daughters on trips or encouraging staff members to bring their children. Wilson called the special commissioner’s probe “a witch hunt.”

The investigation began after a whistleblower brought a complaint in March 2019. The special commissioner’s report, which concerned trips that took place between 2016 and 2019, was completed in January 2023 but only made public on Sept. 9.

The special commissioner’s office said in an emailed statement that the report was not released because of the pending administrative actions.

According to the report, Wilson forged permission slips to bring family members on trips and evaded city Department of Education oversight by using an outside agency to book travel arrangements.

Some of the trips were intended as college tours, but the students and chaperones never actually visited the campuses, witnesses told the investigators.

A group including Wilson and one of her daughters as well as other staff members and their children ate lunch at Syracuse University during a June 2018 trip but never toured the school, witnesses said. They left and went to Niagara Falls instead, according to the investigation.

The special commissioner’s office recommended that Wilson and the other staff members faulted in the report be fired and that they be required to reimburse the school system for their family members’ trips.

Wilson told the Post that she retired and was not fired.

Department of Education spokesperson Jenna Lyle said in a statement, “All staff identified in this report are no longer employed by New York City Public Schools.”

Click here to download our free news, weather and smart TV apps. And click here to stream Channel 9 Eyewitness News live.

#nunyas news

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tgmsunmontue · 1 year ago

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It's all academic darlin' PART 8/10

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7

Part 7 and 8 are Explicit. And nothing else makes sense without the first six parts but you do you!

Chapter 8 is 8k, each previous chapter was about 2k on average. Yeah. I'm not going to apologise however if you're expecting a short chapter you might want to get a drink and snack first?

PART EIGHT

Jake snorts, god, he’s fallen for a giant dork. A hot dork. But still a dork. Who is changing into a different shirt which still, somehow, has fucking roosters on it. How many shirts with roosters on them did he own? How many shirts with roosters on them did one man need to own?

“You get your sense of humor from Mav don’t you?”

“Maybe. He’s probably going to want you to come to dinner you know?”

“Sunday? Family dinner?” Jake asks, because that was one of the emails he’d received just this afternoon. Bradley looks at him, eyebrow quirked and Jakes wants to kiss him again, has no reason not to so he just does, leans forward and gives him a quick kiss. He means for it to be quick anyway, Bradley kisses him back though, chases his mouth when he pulls back slightly and he savors it, the whole experience so novel after months of nothing.

“What, did he already invite you?”

“Yeah. He sent me an email about two hours ago. Didn’t reply yet.”

“Waiting for a better offer?”

He hadn’t been, had wanted confirmation first that Bradley was who Jake thought he was. And now… well. Yeah, he’ll do dinner with Mav any night of the week. But…

“Well, you did say you wanted to fuck with him…”

“Oh my god this is perfect. Let him know you can make it. Then tomorrow I’m going to let him know I’m bringing my boyfriend –”

“Boyfriend huh?” Jake asks, and he knows he’s grinning, cocky, but he feels like his blood has suddenly turned to ice.

“Yeah… boyfriend. That okay? I mean, I don’t want to assume anything, but I haven’t exactly been emailing anyone else on an almost daily basis.”

Jake sucks in a breath, reminds himself he has nothing to lose right now and maybe a lot to gain.

“I... don't know what to do here,” Jake admits and Bradley glances at him, frowns briefly before smirking at him.

“Pretty sure you've done this before.”

“Fuck you,” he shoves at Bradley’s shoulder. “No. Not sex. I’ve fucked around plenty. I – I don’t want to just fuck around though. And I’ve never… not fucked around.”

He’d mentioned it briefly in passing in an email, can see a look of comprehension cross Bradley’s face, then he’s stepping into Jake’s space again, one hand cupping Jake’s jaw and Jake swallows, throat tight with nerves.

“Well, you just got to keep on putting the effort in. Some days you'll get an A grade, and other days you'll scrape by with a bare pass...”

“I don't want to fail,” Jake says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I won't let you fail.”

Jake’s pretty sure no-one can make promises like that, even if it’s a nice sentiment. Makes him feel like he maybe won’t fail.

“Really?”

“Really. I'm a very good... educator. And I’ll have a vested interest in you passing. Group project…”

Jake huffs a laugh, shakes his head.

“Well, I guess it's good I'm a good student. And you do come very highly recommended on Rate my Professor…”

“Of course you looked me up…”

“I’m getting very good at research.”

… … …

Bradley takes them to a bathroom first where they can wash their hands, ignores Jake’s snarky comments about getting the premium tour of the mailroom, office and now the bathroom.

“Okay, seeing as you actually want this tour…”

“I’m actually interested. I haven’t studied in a while, but what you’re working on isn’t just purely theoretical to me. I can understand how it would be applied, which is pretty cool…”

“I’m glad you think so…”

He is glad, more than he thought he would be, that Jake seems genuinely interested. His first serious boyfriend had been in management, not at all interested in what Bradley was studying. His serious girlfriend had been a fellow engineer, smart as a tack, but her career had been more important than their relationship and Bradley had agreed with her, because he’d felt the same. Jake though… he can’t help but feel the little twist of hope uncurling in his gut.

He walks toward the labs, set apart from the other buildings with heavy duty walls and a lightweight roof. He points out the machines, explains what they do and greets the technicians and students still working. Reminds his students that they have to take breaks, that it’s Friday; they need to have at least one-day off, that he will be checking the security logs. Half of them roll their eyes at him. He introduces Jake as his boyfriend, gets a few surreptitious thumbs up which make him grin.

“Right, that’s the dime tour. All I can show you without firing up some of the machines myself and showing you some stuff. Which I’m happy to do, but uh, maybe another time?”

“You have somewhere to be?”

“Nope, just think I’d rather be sitting and talking with you over a drink instead of showing you where I work…”

“You love your work. I wanted to see it. You can show me more another time, a drink sounds good.”

“Did you drive?”

“Nope, hitched a ride, then caught a trolley.”

“So I have you at my mercy huh?”

“You sure do.”

The smiles they give each other are equally slow and he leans forward and captures Jake’s mouth with his own, lets his hands just come to rest naturally on Jake’s hips. Enjoys the sense of warm wet…

“You should take you own advice and go home Bradley… or are you coming climbing tonight?”

“Uh…” he pulls back from Jake to blink at Matthew, one of the technicians (and one of his climbing buddies) who is standing there smirking at him.

“That’s what I thought. Have a good weekend!”

“You too,” Bradley manages, ignoring the cackle that Matthew lets out as best he can. He turns back to Jake, wonders whether he should apologize for his friend’s behavior and realizes that Jake has probably experienced far worse friendly heckling from his own friends in the Navy.

“Okay. What do you want to do?”

“Mmm… what do we want to do. Right? A drink and some food would be good. But maybe some place quiet. And do you want to go climbing? Friday is your usual night right?”

“Uh, yeah… But, well –” He’d rather spend the time with Jake.

“You have a problem with me coming with you?”

“You want to go rock climbing?”

“I want to spend time with you and meet your friends. And it’s been a while since I went climbing.”

“Yeah. We can do that. Uh…”

“Yeah, I’ll need to borrow some clothes. Figured you be okay with that. I’m hoping you have something that I’m okay with, because to be honest, your shirt choices I’ve seen aren’t filling me with confidence.”

“I’ve got plenty of clothes. You’ll be fine.”

“I’m gonna withhold my judgement.”

“How do you feel about me cooking?”

“Well, you didn’t kill me last time…”

“I just thought… I have food waiting to be cooked at home. And drinks. And if we go there then we have more time before I would usually leave for climbing…”

“Sounds like a plan. Lead the way.”

… … …

He follows Bradley, feels a little flutter when he grabs his hand to just hold it as they walk and he’s never had that before, and to have it suddenly, grasping his hand and giving him a wide easy smile throws him back to the memory of Bradley in the cabin, his smile and laughter and he marvels that he might get to have this. As Bradley drives he sends a quick email to Mav, accepting the dinner invitation for Sunday and he wonders how Bradley’s going to break it to Mav that they’re… together.

“You didn’t mention to Mav that you’ve been emailing me almost daily?”

“Nope. None of his business.”

“Really?” Jake asks, because he’d kind of assumed Bradley would be the kind of person to tell his parents everything, but maybe he’s wrong about that. Clearly is, if Bradley thinks he can spring Jake being his boyfriend on Mav.

“Really. We talk about a lot of stuff, but I try and avoid the subject of relationships because he is overly invested. Especially since he retired and I didn’t know he’d left you with a breadcrumb trail, but I was suspicious enough to not want to bring it up…”

“Okay.”

“He’d drop it if I asked him. Seriously. But if he thought there was even a small inkling he’s like a dog with a bone, will just keep niggling at it and I’ve just found it’s easiest for me to just… not raise it. I’m just going to drop it on him on Sunday. Okay?”

“I’ll be there anyway, so I’ll just… follow your lead I guess.”

“Hmm. Yeah… fuck. Actually, just wait a second. I need to send a message.”

Jake shrugs, because it’s not like he has anywhere better to be. Bradley parks his car in the underground carpark and Jake watches other people entering the apartment building from their own cars, it’s clearly the end of the working week, all the civilians returning home after their nine to five jobs. He can’t imagine a life like that.

“Okay… message sent. Let’s go.”

They enter the elevator and Bradley holds it for a couple whom he clearly knows, making small talk about ending the week and the weather before he turns and introduces Jake.

“This is Jake, my boyfriend. Jake, this is Adam and Penny, they live down the hall from me.”

“Hey man, nice to meet you.”

“Ah, you too,” Jake manages, but then they’re at Bradley’s floor and the couple are heading in the opposite direction. “Any particular reason you’re introducing me as your boyfriend to everyone?”

“Desensitization. You can’t look surprised about me calling you my boyfriend when I introduce you to Mav.”

“And how are you going to introduce me exactly?”

“I’m still thinking about the best way… waiting for some backup.”

“Backup?”

“Mav’s… uh…” Bradley’s phone vibrates then and he grabs for it and Jake notices that the protective screen is scratched to hell and he’s pretty sure there is a crack in the case. “Oh thank fuck. Okay. Great.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.”

There isn’t anything more forthcoming but he can tell that Bradley’s working through something and he looks around the apartment, takes in the floor to ceiling bookshelves, covered in plants and books and a lot of fucking rooster figurines, the odd goose and plane also in place. He wants to ask, knows they must have stories behind them. Turns back to find Bradley still staring at his phone, tapping a knuckle against his chin and he looks forward to finding out if that’s a habit he has.

“You’re phone isn’t broken, lost or in pieces… an improvement from last time I saw you.”

“Yeah, all accounted for at the moment, I’ve been taking better care of it. Anyway, I need to tell you something. Because as much as I want to pull one over on Mav, I don’t want you to think that I’d do that to you.”

Jake frowns, because Bradley is nervous, worried about something and Jake has no idea what it could possibly be. Then Bradley’s opening the fridge and offering him a bottle and he glances at it quickly, accepts and twists it open but doesn’t take a drink. Instead watches as Bradley pulls food out of the refrigerator and cupboards, lays out a knife and a chopping board and Jake wonders if he should offer to help or whether Bradley is further organizing his own thoughts as he organizes his working space.

“Okay…?”

“Okay. Right. So, I have two dads.”

“Yeah, Nick Bradshaw and –”

“No. Okay. Three dads then. Just… let me get this out. I was raised by Mav, and his… boyfriend. Partner. Except they were both in the Navy, so… not many people know who he is.” Jake keeps quiet, nods his head to show he’s listening. “As in, they know exactly who he is. But not many people know he’s with Mav. Or that Mav’s with him. He’s a pretty big deal. You know him.” Jake can understand now why this would make Bradley nervous.

“So, you want to meet my other dad? Before dinner on Sunday? Because Mav will think he’s hilarious, getting one over on you by not telling you by the way, if that makes you feel better about me pulling any shit with him… I just got permission to tell you, because it’s the biggest secret I keep. And it’s not even mine.”

Jake’s now feeling nervous, his mind running through all the different Admirals, because that’s what he’s getting from this. He’s learnt from not trusting his gut with Bradley and the photos that popped up the first time he searched his name. It’s going to be an Admiral that he knows. Holy shit. Simpson maybe? Bradley’s hands are flying, cutting and dicing without even paying attention.

“Just tell me who it is…” Jake says, because waiting isn’t going to make it any easier. Bradley glances up and takes his expression in and clearly assumes that Jake is bracing for the worst.

“Tom Kazansky. Admiral Kazansky. And I didn’t want that to come as a shock to you at dinner. Because he’ll be there. Mav seems to take weird pleasure in inviting people over for dinner, to meet his partner, and then just introduces him as Tom and of course everyone recognizes him…”

“You other dad is the COMPACFLT?” Jake asks, just in case there is somehow another Admiral Kazansky he isn’t aware of.

“Yes. That, uh, going to be a problem?”

It’s the first time that Bradley has sounded even a little unsure about whatever this relationship is or might be and Jake pulls himself together. He’d admitted his own worry about this whole relationship maybe being his first ever and Bradley had reassured him. He wants to be with Bradley, not the COMPACFLT. You can’t choose your family. That type of thing. Right. Holy shit.

“Uh. Fucking hell. It’s a bit of a shock but it doesn’t change anything at all. Uh. Does he know about… us?” Jake asks, because he assumes the COMPACFLT knows who Jake is, especially with the whole mission nearly two years ago. But Bradley hadn’t told Mav…

“Well, he does now. He won’t tell Mav. You know, Mav talks about you all the time. All the Dagger squad to be honest,” Bradley says, and his face scrunches up then, like he’s thinking about something unpleasant. He’s gorgeous and Jake can’t believe he’s been calling Jake his boyfriend for the last couple of hours. He can deal with the COMPACFLT if he gets to keep that. “You’re not… freaking out?”

“Nope,” Jake says, and he’s pretty sure he isn’t lying to himself. His mind is racing, because he saved Mav’s life. He’s just learnt that he saved the COMPACFLT’s partner’s life. That’s quite a lot to take in. He’s very glad he didn’t know at the time.

“Great, because he wants to have lunch with us tomorrow. Brunch probably.”

Blink.

“Oookay…”

This is not okay.

“It’s fine, he’ll bring food here and cook. He’s the one who taught me to cook actually, not Mav.”

“Huh. Yeah. That makes more sense…” Jake says, although the idea of Admiral Kazansky cooking anything has his brain shorting out. “Wait. You keeping me here until lunch tomorrow?”

“I kind of thought I was keeping you here all weekend…” Bradley replies and there’s a promise and challenge in his eye and Jake grins, leans forward and kisses him, shoving thoughts of casually having lunch with the COMPACFLT as far to the back of his mind as possible.

He can at least try and compartmentalize.

… … …

“So, you still want to go climbing?”

“Yeah, I’m probably going to skip the hike tomorrow, spend it in bed with this hot guy I just met…”

“You met me months ago,” Jake grumbles, but there’s no heat in it and Bradley grins, kicks at his feet under the table they’re sitting at while they eat the stir-fry that Bradley had quickly made.

“Actually yeah, I did. Want to explain why you were so… proper and polite? Because Mav asked what I thought of you and I said you were very polite and he just looked like I’d shaken the foundation of his world view. What was up?”

“Uh, excuse you, I am polite.”

“No. You can be polite. Some people are naturally polite, you’re polite when you choose to be. And you were choosing to be. With me. Why?”

“Didn’t want to piss Mav off… or be rude to you.”

“What, you thought Mav would think badly of you doing something a little… impolite? Mav? The man who only managed to stay in the Navy through the grace of his innate talent and Ice making sure they wouldn’t kick him out?”

“Huh, makes a lot more sense when you say it like that. But no… I just. I was recovering from a car crash. Noticed you, but figured I better not make a pass at Mav’s son.”

He can’t help but feel a little relieved that Jake hadn’t failed to notice him, but had instead been trying to be polite. It’s all sorts of sweet. He’s pretty sure not many people get to see these softer sides, but he equally likes the intelligence and sharp sense of humor; his snark as he makes fun of Bradley.

“And now?”

“Well, it’s a little more than a pass now ain’t it?”

“Definitely,” Bradley agrees, realizing that Jake respects Mav. Thinks highly enough of him to somehow, for some reason, think that Mav wouldn’t be happy for Jake to be with Bradley. Hopefully he’s been disabused of that notion at least.

“Come on, lets go through my clothes and find you something you can climb in. You can make fun of my dress sense.”

“Where’s the challenge in that though? You make it too easy for me…”

… … …

“You really like plants huh?” Jake asks, because there had been three book cases almost completely covered in the living room, making the softening evening light feel like he’s in a forest. There’s another shelf of plants in the bedroom.

“No. Well, I do like them. But as soon as I’m in charge of them they seem to die. I either neglect them or give them too much love.”

Jake’s not sure that’s true, because he can’t see a single dead plant amongst the lot, but maybe Bradley is a perfectionist when it comes to plants. He’s heard of weirder things. Fortunately, Bradley’s clothes aren’t a lost cause, the bright button-downs the only anomaly from what actually looks like a decent sense of style. He manages to borrow shorts and t-shirt, and even though he had high hopes for meeting Bradley he’s starting to realize he could have planned a bit better. Like bringing a change of clothes. Especially as he’s apparently staying the weekend.

“You mind making a detour to base so I can grab some things after we finish climbing?”

“Before okay? We might forget after…”

“Why would we forget?”

“Might be distracted…”

Jake smiles slowly, lets his hands smooth over Bradley’s chest and yeah…

“You’ve got a point. Before it is.”

… … …

They’re a little late to meet Bradley’s friends, they’re already climbing, half of them up the walls, others belaying. Jake has to get fitted for a harness and go through a safety induction, which he follows closely while Bradley wanders off to talk to his friends. Once he’s finished he wanders over, feeling a little awkward as a couple of them watch him approach.

“Hey everyone, this is Jake…”

“The boyfriend!”

“He actually exists!”

“How much is he paying you to answer to Jake?”

“I told you guys to be nice!”

“We’re being nice to him. You’re still free game.”

Jake laughs, pulls out his license and hands it over.

“He either found someone who is actually called Jake, or he’s actually legit been mooning over you for the last couple of months.”

“Fuck off Ryan, I have not been mooning over anyone!”

“He says that, and yet he was late to a few things because he had to send an email to you. And he was late again tonight.”

“Are we hassling Hei Hei about his recent phone addiction?”

“Yeah, he hasn’t lost his phone in months. He’s never been such a conscientious email answerer before either…”

“Well, not that I need to add fuel to this particular fire, but he was wearing a different shirt this afternoon than he was this morning so… make of that what you will,” one guy says, and Jake’s pretty sure it’s the same guy from outside the labs, the one who’d interrupted them kissing.

“You’re all awful. Jake, ignore them.”

“I think I like them, bring you down a peg or two. Can’t think you’re perfect…”

“I am far from perfect.”

“Really? Sure seems like it from where I’m standing…”

“Barf! Come on, some of us are here to climb rather than gossip!”

“Speak for yourself, gossip now saves me getting Bradley drunk later and asking him all the questions I want answers to…”

Bradley is tightening his harness and Jake has an impressive view of his thighs and ass, the straps highlighting the muscle. His fingers are nimbly working the rope and Jake watches, wants those fingers on his body and he can’t think about that right now. The harness doesn’t hide anything.

“You want to go first? I’ll get to enjoy the view…”

Jake laughs but hooks himself in, reaching for the first handhold. They climb for over an hour, switching out who belays and it’s easier than he thought it would be, just hanging out. Bradley and his friends call out encouragement for particularly challenging climbs, and it makes him realize that Bradley has his own squad.

“So I have to ask, the whole rooster thing… just, why?”

“He came back from Sweden and greeted everyone with Hej hej, which would have been fine, but then Moana came out and it kind of cemented the whole rooster thing. Isn’t it also a childhood nickname?”

“Can’t we save some embarrassing stories for a time that isn’t the first date?”

“Is it seriously your first date?”

“I said it was!”

“Man, I would not have all you fuckers at my first date.”

“We’re not counting the two nights at the cabin huh?” Jake says, tossing Bradley a wink and Bradley just rolls his eyes, shakes his head in gentle exasperation but the smile he gives Jake not even seconds later is playful. Fun. It’s the back-and-forth bantering that they’d developed in their months of email communication and he realizes it’s similar to what he has with Javy. Except he doesn’t want to ever have sex with Javy. He very much wants to have sex with Bradley. And also have… more emails, more dinners, more time with friends. All of this. It’s quite the revelation to have when he’s busy stripping the climbing harness from his body.

“I’ll see you guys next week!”

“What, no hike tomorrow?”

“Nope. I’m planning on staying in bed…”

That’s followed with some whistles and catcalls, Bradley just looks smug and wraps an arm around Jake’s waist, making him laugh with a wink. Yeah. He wants this.

“Nice for some!”

“Jealous!”

He waits for Bradley to throw his own climbing gear into the back of his car, waves back at a couple of the others who are leaving at the same time.

“I like your friends.”

“Thanks for putting up with them. I wish I could say they’ll stop being dicks, but if it isn’t one thing then it’s another.”

“Maybe you’re just easy to hassle?”

“Maybe…” Bradley concedes and he pulls Jake toward him so they’re leaning against his car.

“Come home with me?”

“We already went and picked up my bag.”

“Yeah, but it’s still a choice. I can take you back to base if you want.”

“No. Take me home.”

“Okay.”

He settles into the passenger seat and Bradley’s hand comes to rest on his thigh, a steady and warm weight and he places his own hand over it, runs his fingertips over the back of his hand, thinks about touching more of Bradley’s skin. The hand jobs earlier had definitely dealt with the immediate need, but the further kissing and casual touches while they were climbing have slowly and surely built the tension back up and it’s been simmering away under his skin, ready to boil over at the slightest provocation. His cock is definitely getting hard and they’ve still got a twenty minute drive.

“So there’s more than one reason why you have a rooster collection?”

“Really? You want to know?”

“Yeah, I really do…” Jake says, and he isn’t even lying, grips firmly at Bradley’s hand before returning to the gentle touch.

“My dad’s call sign was Goose. Except I had a lisp, or missing teeth, and apparently I walked around saying I wanted to be called Goose too, except it sounded a lot more like Rooster. So it switched between Little Goose and Rooster. I was just getting rid of it when that fucking movie came out and then pictures of that rooster were fucking everywhere. Inside toilet doors, on the roof of corridors, someone changed my staff photo… there was chalk art. I just had to lean into it.”

“Destined to be a rooster in every life huh?”

“Apparently. Some of my students have some wild theories.”

“I just bet they do…” Jake says, laughing.

They walk from the car to the apartment, tracing the same path they made earlier. This time though he has an overnight bag, packed with enough for a couple of nights, which can stretch longer if he can do washing. Or doesn’t wear clothes. He’s pretty sure Bradley is planning on a clothes-optional weekend inside his apartment and the idea of coming back from every deployment to this is heady.

… … …

He toes off his shoes, leaves them where they land, knowing full well it’ll annoy Ice tomorrow. Jake’s shoes are lined up tidily, but he’s dropping his bag on the sofa and Bradley watches him; he seems comfortable in Bradley’s space already and he likes that. A lot. He moves forward, doesn’t want there to be awkwardness between them.

“What do you want?”

“My choice huh?”

“Well, we have all weekend, and that’s just the beginning right?”

“Yeah. Yeah I guess it is,” Jake agrees and it’s like whatever tension he was holding in his shoulders is sapped away and he relaxes against Bradley, lets his hands go to Bradley’s hips and his top is damp with sweat and feels gross when pressed against his skin.

“So, what are we doing here? Now, tonight? I’m just happy to get my hands and mouth all over you…”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good place to start. See where it takes us.”

“Okay then. Maybe a shower, pretty sure you don’t want to taste stale sweat…”

“Don’t think I’d mind that much…” Jake states and oh, that’s a telling statement right there and Bradley feels another block of arousal slide into place on top of the steady foundation that’s been building all evening. There’s direction now and that direction is up. They strip and he throws all their clothes into the hamper, grabs extra towels and places one on each side of the bed for later. He’s already done his due diligence and stocked up on condoms and lube, again not assuming but hopeful.

They don’t talk while they wait for the water to warm up, lets Jake run his hands over him, eyes following his own fingers as he traces over beauty spots and scars. He lets himself do the same, Jake’s skin is smooth under his fingertips, his chest hair golden and fine, the nerves in his fingertips becoming more sensitive as he focusses more on the sensation beneath them. They lather soap and wash each other, kisses soft the whole time, hands running over hardening erections but not really making any concerted effort to make each other harder when they’re in no rush. He rinses his hair, licks up Jake’s neck when he tips his head back to rinse his own.

“Better?” Bradley asks, even though he was definitely the one who was originally more keen on showering. Not that Jake complained at any point.

“No stale sweat… can start workin’ on a fresh layer.”

Jake’s accent becomes thicker when he’s aroused and it sends prickles of want all over his skin. Bradley wonders what phone sex would be like, realizes they’ll likely get a chance to find out in the future with them doing long distance and he can’t believe he’s even thinking about that when they haven’t even talked about it. They’ve been together physically for a few hours and yet Bradley wants to shove everything he has and is toward Jake and just let him have it all.

He dries off haphazardly, not really caring because it’s not like he’s getting dressed into clothes. Jake beats him to the bedroom and he lies down on the bed, stretches his body out with his arms above, like he knows Bradley is enjoying the view. He straddles Jake’s thighs, runs his hands down his arms, lets his mouth leave a trail of kisses over a bicep. He moves over Jake’s body, wants to find what turns him on and what makes him shiver with need. He lines their cocks up and does a slow undulating grind, pressing down with what he hopes is just the right amount of pressure. Feels good to him, hopes it’s the same for Jake.

… … …

“Fuck you’re amazing…”

“Took the words right out of my mouth darlin’…” Jake says, letting his fingers dig into the muscle of Bradley’s thighs. He’s fucking gorgeous. He feels the full body jerk and he wonders what caused it, captures Bradley’s moan in his mouth. “You like me callin’ you that? Darlin’? Baby? Sugar plum?”

Bradley laughs then, shakes his head and pulls away.

“Not sugar plum, I’m not…”

“You’re plenty sweet…”

“Fuck Jake.”

“We’re getting there.”

It’s only because he apparently has all weekend, at least, that he’s willing to keep the pace slow. He’s enjoying having Bradley’s undivided hyper-focused attention on his body, apparently intent on finding all the little spots that turn him on. Not the obvious ones, like his cock and nipples, but the other patches, the skin that is tight across his pelvic bone, the inside of his thighs. Not that his cock is getting ignored exactly, Bradley comes back every few minutes and rolls his hips down in an exquisite grind that’s just shy of being hard enough, although the repetition is definitely winding him tighter and tighter and he’s over being passive.

“Turn abouts fair play… my turn to explore.”

… … …

Bradley grins, moves back and holds out a hand to pull Jake up, which he ignores and Bradley watches the shift of muscles under skin a Jake sits up. Bradley realizes he might have a thing for abs, he’s never had one before, but maybe it’s unique to Jake’s abs. He settles back, pulls Jake to lie on top of him before he can even start to get settled and he laughs at the annoyed look, lifts his head to press a hard kiss, grinds his hips up as well and he’s definitely hard now.

“Explore away, all the territory is yours…”

He snickers at Jake’s huff of amusement, he’s never not laughed with his partners in bed; obviously not every time, but he doesn’t like being with people who take sex too seriously. Jake seems like he’s a perfect match, giving Bradley’s body an equally thorough inspection, although he uses his tongue more, licking at him, his neck, collar bone, his nipple and he jerks at the sudden suction and groans. Been a long time since anyone’s played with his nipples.

“Oh… sensitive huh?”

“Yeah…” Bradley gasps as Jake does it again. His nipples are sensitive, one much more than the other for some reason. He knows he can come from being fingered and someone sucking on that nipple, his cock not needing any stimulation at all. He’ll let Jake find that out on his own.

… … …

They end up on their sides, facing each other, aligned so they can keep kissing and he’s pretty sure he’s going to have to learn what to do about beard burn with how over-sensitive his skin feels everywhere Bradley has kissed. It’s a weird sensation between wind and sun burn and if it looks half as bad as it feels anyone looking at him is going to know what he’s spent a good chunk of time doing. Bradley’s hand wraps around both of them, his fingers just that little bit longer. It’s tight and hot, and Jake isn’t sure if he’s going for a hand job or if he can thrust into the clasp of fingers. He desperately wants to thrust.

“This okay?”

“God yes, so okay… fuck.”

“Come on Jake, want to see you come…”

He covers Bradley’s hand with his own, holds it still, feels the squeeze of Bradley’s hand around his cock. He takes that as permission and starts thrusting, slow to start before increasing his pace. He’s aware that Bradley is watching, his own body taut and unmoving, though his breathing coming in shaky gasps tells Jake that he’s ratchetted as tight as Jake is. Bradley’s hand starts moving then, his hips jerking minutely and Jake isn’t sure he’d have noticed except for the way it adds a different level of friction on his own cock.

“Oh fuck…”

“Jake, fuck… come on… ugh.”

He feels Bradley come, hot wetness easing some of the friction very slightly. His own orgasm is slow and rolling when it hits, a reflection of how long they’ve spent building it up. It leaves him feeling shaky and unmoored and as if he knows how Jake is feeling Bradley kisses him, slow and thorough. He was already melting into post-orgasmic haze, the kiss just adding a layer of promise or care and fuck he wants this. He feels Bradley shift away briefly, then there’s a towel wiping between them. Jake is doubly glad for his forethought, his entire body feels too wrung out to consider moving anywhere and brain going offline fast and doesn’t want to clean up. Doesn’t want Bradley to leave his side.

“Imagine what we’ll be like when we’ve had practice,” Bradley says, kissing him softly and Jake hums his agreement. Lots and lots of practice. “Sleep well.”

He’s used to the constant noise of the carrier after the last seven months, but the quiet of the room and the afternoon and evenings activities have left him feeling sated, soporific and he soon falls asleep.

… … …

He wakes, room still dark and he doesn’t need to know the time to know it’s too fucking early to get up when he’s in bed with Bradley. He grumbles a little, pulls the sheet back up to cover them both, shuffles so he’s touching more of Bradley’s bare skin because neither of them bothered putting anything on. He feels him turn and then he’s being held, very firmly the little spoon with Bradley’s chest against his back.

“Morning. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I normally get up around this time anyway. You sleep okay?”

“Yeah. Little stiff now. Climbing and sex… Oh god. I’m getting old.”

“Ancient,” Bradley murmurs, lips brushing over the fine hairs behind Jake’s ear, making him shiver.

“You know, the best thing for stiff muscles is another workout…”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?”

“Try harder.”

Bradley does.

… … …

He can smell coffee, the bed is empty, but he can smell coffee. He might have a boyfriend for the first time in his life and he’s making coffee. He rolls over and searches for underwear before remembering Bradley chucking everything in a hamper. He opens a drawer and finds Bradley’s underwear straight away, one particular pair bright and with a fucking rooster on it, little speech bubble with ‘my favorite cock’ and he pulls them on with a grin before heading out to the kitchen with a quick stop in the bathroom.

“Good morning again…”

“It is a good morning isn’t it,” Bradley says, his smile bright as he gives Jake a soft kiss. He could definitely get used to this. “Nice underwear. How do you take your coffee? Or do you want something else?”

“Coffee. Black. Thanks… And thought you’d appreciate them.”

“Definitely look better on you…” Bradley says, another kiss and his heart-stomach-brain all feel like they’re on the same roller-coaster. “Be right back.”

He takes the mug and goes to more closely investigate the parts of the bookshelves not covered in plants. He recognizes some of the same texts from the cabin and now it makes more sense. As do the roosters and goose figurines. He’s not really paying attention to anything when he hears a quick three-tap knock on the front door and he freezes.

Surely it’s not that late.

Did Bradley mention a time that Admiral Kazansky was coming?

Quick glance at the clock confirms it’s after ten and Jake is standing in his underwear. Not even his underwear. Underwear that is very clearly not his in fact.

Fuck.

And now the door is opening. Jake can’t move.

He has a key?

Of course he spots Jake as soon as he enters, eyebrows raise in silence and then Admiral Kazansky is placing grocery bags on the kitchen bench before turning back to look at Jake again. He wonders if he needs to salute, but his hand is currently holding a coffee mug.

“Good morning sir.”

Jake is never going to master the same level of smile-smirk that is being directed his way, and the Admiral still doesn’t say anything, simply gestures at Jake’s state of undress and makes a shooing gesture toward the bedroom and he takes the direction for what it is and flees.

… … …

“Admiral Kazansky is in the kitchen.”

“Already? He’s early. Of course he’s early… Oh. You were out there like that huh?” Bradley asks, grinning. Jake is gorgeous fully dressed, standing there in nothing but underwear he’s breathtaking. The fact that it’s his underwear has him feeling even more smug.

“Yes Bradley, I was.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll just think it’s funny. Plus only way is up right?”

“Fuck off… I’m going to go and drown myself in the shower. Then I will somehow come back to life and get dressed because the COMPACFLT is apparently making me… brunch?”

“Yeah. Brunch. You know you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

“Bradley!”

Jake’s also hot when he’s getting angry and Bradley can’t help it, steps forward and kisses him, hands cupping Jake’s face to hold him still, mindful that Jake’s still holding a hot mug of coffee. Jake takes a few seconds to kiss back, but he does and Bradley gives himself a mental high-five for distracting him. He doesn’t think it would have ended well if he’d told Jake he found him getting angry hot.

“Have a shower and get dressed. Don’t drown. I’ll go and start brunch with Ice. Also, I forgot to mention this, kind of forget because it’s just normal for us. Ice doesn’t talk very much. He had cancer and uses ASL to communicate or his little tablet thing with an app. One of the reasons we’re eating here really, he prefers it to going out in public.”

“Ice. You call the COMPACFLT Ice…”

“Sometimes I call him Pops to wind him up…”

“What? No. That’s what I call Mav to wind him up!”

“Really? That’s hilarious. No wonder Mav likes you so much. Now, I’m going out there because otherwise he’s going to think we’re having sex again.”

“Oh god…” Jake mumbles and it gives Bradley pause.

“Is it okay? I can ask him to leave if you want…”

“No. It’s fine. I just… would have preferred to have not been in my underwear. Your underwear.”

“Could have been worse.”

“How?”

“You could have been naked…”

Jake’s laughing then and Bradley kisses him again, carefully grabs his ass before gently pushing him in the direction of the bathroom before he heads back out to greet Ice.

“Morning,” Ice signs, his expression wholly amused and Bradley gives him the finger.

“Morning. Thanks for scarring Jake. I’m sure he’ll add that to his rotating nightmares.”

“Not my fault you lost track of time,” Ice signs, tapping his watch and grinning and Bradley shakes his head.

“You’re over half an hour early!”

“I’m always early!”

Bradley snorts, rolls his eyes then makes the signs for orgasm - always - early, raises his eyebrows to question and smirks.

“Should I feel bad for Mav?”

It’s rare to hear Ice laugh, the sound raw and scraping but he looks delighted, slaps Bradley on the arm, head shaking and he clearly concedes a point to Bradley in their ongoing sparring.

“Behave!” Ice signs, still laughing and Bradley grins, knocks his arm with his own.

Apparently they’re making waffles with a fruit salad and he’s surprised, because this is Ice’s favorite family breakfast meal, he doesn’t make it often, the buttermilk batter having to be made the night before, which means he’s either made and transported waffle batter by stealth across the city, or he taunted Mav with the knowledge that he wasn’t getting waffles. Both are equally probable and he’ll ask later. They work in easy silence, years of experience making them seamless in the kitchen, especially when Mav isn’t there getting underfoot trying to help.

Fruit salad all done, turkey bacon grilling under the broiler, last of the waffles now cooking they settle back, Ice taking a sip of his own coffee as he places the tablet he uses for communication on the table, the text to voice app already open. Bradley’s glad he’s not going to have to act as interpreter. Is pretty sure Ice wants to grill Jake a little, even if he’s only doing it for show. At least he can act as a buffer.

“Good morning again,” the electronic voice says from the tablet and Bradley turns to see Jake hanging back in the doorway to the hall. He makes a beckoning gesture with his hand.

“Jake, I’d like to introduce you to Tom Kazansky, one of my dads.”

“Nice to meet you Admiral Kazansky sir.”

“Nice to meet you in a less formal setting.”

“Uh, could we get less formal than this?”

“Probably not. Call me Tom.”

… … …

Apart from the fact that he knows Tom Kazansky is the COMPACFLT, he’s also Bradley’s other dad, and he wants to try and make a good impression, despite a part of him feeling like he’s already spectacularly fucked up by being nearly naked when he arrived. Bradley seems happy and relaxed, so he’ll follow his lead. They sit down to eat and it’s an impressive spread of food.

“Thank you, this looks great.”

“You can make me breakfast tomorrow,” Bradley says, giving him a wink and Jake wouldn’t normally blush, but of course under the scrutiny of the COMPACFLT his cheeks are flaming.

“I’d love to,” he says, ignoring the heat in his face and instead focuses on the grin Bradley gives him.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

“Uh… what for?” Jake asks, because he hopes he doesn’t expect an invite for breakfast tomorrow to reciprocate. They’re already doing dinner. The Admiral looks uncomfortable, lips pursed and giving a quick glance at Bradley.

“Oh, is this about the mission where Jake saved Mav’s life? Don’t worry, I already know about it.”

Bradley, who can apparently read Admiral Kazansky like a billboard sign and knows about a highly classified mission. Wow. He snaps his jaw shut, head automatically shaking, because he sure as hell never mentioned anything and he sure as fuck doesn’t want the COMPACFLT thinking he said anything.

“Of course you do,” the electronic voice says and Bradley shrugs, the expression on the Admiral’s face seems exasperated and Jake’s struggling to get his head around their half-silent way of communicating.

“You can blame Mav.”

Jake watches as Bradley makes a couple of signs, and he’s never learnt ASL although he figures he’s going to need to. But he’s pretty sure Bradley just signed blowjob and this morning is already feeling surreal in so many ways, but in none of them does it make sense that Bradley needs to use the word blowjob when talking to Admiral Kazansky.

“There are no secrets in this family,” the little voice declares, and the expression on Admiral Kazansky’s face is a little challenging, like he’s somehow daring Jake to cross the threshold and join said family. He reaches for his mug and does a little toast.

Challenge accepted.

… … …

“Actually, about that… Mav’s in the dark about us. I thought we could have some fun.”

“I have some ideas,” Ice signs, typing it in at the same time for Jake’s sake.

They sit and talk for a while, eating, and Jake slowly relaxes, although Bradley notes he doesn’t call Ice anything at all, and certainly not Tom. That’s fine, he’ll get there. He does make Ice chuckle silently a couple of times and it makes Bradley feel bubbly inside, that they’re getting on so well. They’re finished, and there’s a little left over for a snack later, and Bradley reaches for his phone.

“Okay, let me make this call…” Bradley says, putting his phone on speaker so Jake and Ice will be able to hear as well.

“Hey Mav…”

“Bradley! What are you up to?”

“Just having brunch actually, wanted to make sure dinner was still happening tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday, and we do dinner every Sunday… so yes, Bradley. Dinner is still happening. I’ve actually invited a few friends. People I want you to meet.”

“Really?” Bradley asks, raising his eyebrows at both Ice and Jake across the table. Ice is shaking his head.

“Yep, really think you’ll get on with one of them in particular…”

“Uh… this another set-up Mav?”

“Hmm. And if it is?”

“Well, might make it a bit awkward with me wanting to bring my boyfriend.”

“What. Since when? Why haven’t I heard about this?”

“Because you’re the biggest busybody and gossip I know? You usually ring them up to introduce yourself and in the process scare them away?”

“That was only one time! And I saw you on Sunday! And again on Tuesday! How have you got a boyfriend since then? It’s only been four days!”

“What can I say, when I know I know. We’ll bring dessert. How many people are going to be there?”

“Uh, just… eight if I count this mysterious boyfriend. Do I know him? What’s his name? Have I met him?”

“Eight? Wow. Was it going to be a like a speed dating situation?”

“No! I just… it’s us three and your plus one. And some of the Dagger Squad.”

That has Jake’s attention, his eyes wide as he looks between Bradley and Ice, expression clearly wanting Bradley to ask who.

“Let me guess, you’ve invited Jake. Who else?”

Mav sighs over the phone and Bradley has to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing.

“Coyote, Phoenix and Bob.”

Bradley looks to Jake and he knows those names are going to mean a hell of a lot more to him than they do to Bradley.

“Great, okay.”

“And your young man’s name?”

“You’ll find out tomorrow. Patience. Thanks Mav, I’ll bring enough brownie for eight.”

He quickly ends the call before Mav can get another word in and turns his phone off, not wanting the notifications. He knows all the people he cares about are safe so has no reason to have it on.

“Okay. Step one is done.”

Ice grins and Bradley grins back. Then Ice makes a shooing gesture toward the bedroom and Bradley rolls his eyes, throws back a yeah yeah gesture because it’s apparently grilling time. He doesn’t know why Ice expects him to leave the room, he’s totally going to listen in from around the corner. Of course Ice seems to be on to him, he can hear the chairs scraping back and the table being cleared. He has to strain to hear over the running water, fortunately the little electronic tablet is nice and clear.

“Thank you for making him happier. He is happy. Full life. Many friends. Loves his job. You can add to all of that.”

He can’t hear what Jake says in reply and he knows Ice must be typing out his reply, the words conveying meaning without being full sentences.

“There is no try.”

“Sure thing Yoda. You a secret Star Wars geek or something?”

“Not secret.”

Jake’s laugh is beautiful and Bradley grins to himself.

“Tell your friends. Serves Mav right.”

“Excuse me sir? You mean, I have your permission to tell Coyote, Phoenix and Bob who you are? And your relationship with Maverick?”

“Yes. Already gave to Mav. Now you too. Good for Mav be in dark for once.”

PART 9

#Hangster #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #Sereshaw #rooster x hangman #It's all academic darlin'

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year ago

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StolenMoments!Series - Part Three: Yours - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @novamariestark @words-and-seeds

It’s in the late hours of the evening on Christmas Day that you make it back to base. You’ve been out in the wild since the early hours of the morning, meeting with community leaders from the villages you’d supported in the past, re-establishing connections. The reception is positive for the most part, you meet a few roadblocks but nothing that escalates to a point you can’t manage.

When you climb out the Hum-Vee you’re tired, aching and filthy. It’s been a while since you’ve carried this much equipment on your person, it’s something you’re still getting used to.

Sabatino’s in the kitchen when you step through the door. A heavenly scent assails you, your stomach rumbling as you strip off your equipment and jacket before hanging it in your cubby. The two of you have barely seen each other over the last few days, with your trips off site and his attempt at tracking a group of insurgents. You know he’s around though when his heated blanket appears folded neatly on your bunk after the generator goes out. The nights get cold here and your appreciative of the gesture.

“That smells amazing.” You tell him, shaking the sand out of your hair and he gives you that smile, the one that makes your heartbeat just a little faster in your chest.

“I’m more than just a pretty face.” He says as you step into the kitchen to survey his work. “It’ll be ready in thirty.”

“Just let me get washed up first then I’m all yours.” You say before disappearing into the bathroom.

All yours…

He has to admit, he likes the thought of it. The two of you never made that date in L.A but he’s hoping not to miss his moment here in Afghanistan.

He sets the battery powered camping light in the centre of the table before turning the mains off. It casts a pretty dulcet glow across the table, illuminating the space. The ‘plates’ you’re eating from are trays, the ‘turkey’ is actually bearded vulture and the wine is from a box someone bought over for New Years, but he’s done his best with the tools he has at hand.

When you step out of the bathroom, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You’re clad in leggings and an oversized jumper with thick woollen socks pulled over your feet. Your damp hair falls loose across your features.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” You tell him, gesturing at the meal as you take the seat across from him.

“Nah. Just a man trying to impress the girl he likes.” He says, a small smile playing across his lips.

The conversation flows from there. You learn that his mother was Armenian, she met his Italian father as a student in the US. They both loved to cook, a trait that was passed down to their son. At weekends his father would take him camping, teach him how to live off the land, skills he’s utilises throughout his career, although he prefers the comforts of an urban landscape these days.

“Nothing beats a hot shower and a comfortable bed.” He tells you.

In turn he learns that you enlisted in the Army straight out of high school as a way to pay for college. You have a degree in criminal justice and became a member of the military police, serving two tours in Afghanistan before you put in your papers and began working in humanitarian services.

“A lot of the people I met with today are girls I’ve helped over the years, women who’ve stepped into the role of community leaders.” You confide in him, sipping from a beaker filled with wine. “Some were child brides, others trafficked, or dishonoured. I was part of a network that rescued girls from abusive situations, educated them, gave them prospects.”

It’s the first inkling he has that the work you had done with the villages in the region was actually clandestine. They’re relocation spots he realises, homes for people who couldn’t return to their families for fear of being killed or punished. He understands now why it had to be you that came to Afghanistan, the unique position you were in to help.

“You saved them, so they trust you.” He remarks quietly as the pieces fall into place.

“It’s more than that.” You say with a sad smile. “I saw some horrific shit as an MP, the stuff some of our soldiers got away...”

You trail off with a bitter taste in your mouth. He knows what you’re talking about. Out here it’s lawless, and if you’re of the right disposition it’s an excellent hunting ground for the weak and the vulnerable.

“I got a rep for taking on those cases, the ones where civilians accused our guys. They started to see me as someone who would hold others accountable.” You say leaning back in your chair, cradling the glass of wine to your chest. “It was recommended that I didn’t reenlist when the time came, that it would be bad for my health.”

It’s a thinly veiled threat, one that tastes of violence, and it infuriates him because you shouldn’t have had to give up a job that was worth doing in order to protect yourself from the very organisation you were policing.

He’s still thinking about it when he walks you to your room that night. How brave you were taking those men to task for their crimes, for stepping into a role that put a target on your back. He knows there’s more you’re not telling him, that when you’re ready you’ll disclose the rest of it. He can wait, he isn’t going anywhere.

He intends to say goodnight, to go back to his bunk, listen to a true crime podcast the same way he has all other nights however there’s a look in your eyes as you linger in the doorway.

When you kiss him, it’s nothing more than a light brush of the lips but it ignites something inside of him. His thumb chases along the line of your jaw, his palm coming to rest on the nape of your neck.

“Take me to bed Nik.” You whisper against his lips, and he smiles as he closes the door behind him.

He makes love to you on the floor of your bunkroom, the blankets from the other rigs laid out across the ground, cushioning it. Each bunk is single person, meant to discourage fraternization and Sabatino he likes to have space to work. He takes his time with you, stealing greedy kisses from your mouth as he undresses you slowly, removing each layer as if he’s carefully unwrapping a gift.

That’s how he sees you, something precious, to be cared for, revered. His lips chase over your skin, mapping out all of those sensual little areas, the ones that make you say his name. He commits each and every one of them to memory.

God, the noises you make, it’s enough to drive any man to madness.

You taste like God damn sunshine when he gets his mouth on you. He licks up that sweet honey like it’s a feast, his tongue tracing over your clit before he thrusts his tongue into your needy cunt making your hips arch and you head tip back into the pillow.

You look so fucking beautiful when you come, that pretty pink flush creeping across your skin in the throes of rapture. He kisses his way back up your body, his skilled palms caressing your curves as he slots between your legs. The tip of his cock brushes over wetness, smearing the head of it with your slick. He positions himself, right there at your entrance waiting.

If you want him, you have him, but he's got to hear it before he takes this any further.

“Nik, please.” You whisper against his lips. “I need you.”

It’s been along time since anyone has said those words to him.

He sinks into you slowly, his mouth covering yours, stifling that gorgeous little moan as he fills you completely. Christ, he almost loses his fucking mind because this, it’s absolutely perfect, you are absolutely perfect. Your thighs tighten around his hips as he moves in long, punctuated thrusts that rake over that deviant little spot inside of you, the one that has you keening for him. His fingers entwine with yours and your breathing hitches just a little because the intimacy of that, it heightens everything.

It's never been like this for him, he’s never felt so connected to another human being. You bite his lower lip when you come, and he fucking loses it. You grip him like you were made for him, wringing the ecstasy right out of his body as he spills his release inside of you. Still, he isn’t satisfied, he fucks it deeper because he’s a territorial son of a bitch, and you need to know you’re his.

You kiss him in that moment, moaning into his mouth and he realises you need it just as much as he does.

“Oh, you like that.” He whispers, his thumb ghosting over the curve of your cheek as he looks into your eyes.

“I do.” You tells him, your fingertips trailing along the scars that line his back. “It makes me feel like I’m yours.”

“You are mine.” He says resolutely, his lips brushing over yours. “It doesn’t matter where in the world we are; you’ll always be mine.”

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#erik palladino #sabatino x reader #sabatino x you #ncis los angeles #ncis la #sabatino #Vostanik Sabatino #Vostanik Sabatino x reader #Vostanik Sabatino x you

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yyyeoshe · 3 months ago

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— "if you insist, i'll tell you." oc x reader

streamer?classmate x reader

synopsis: on orientation day of your first year of university, you started to develop a crush on your handsome classmate. however, you began to suspect that he was hiding a large secret and you were determined to find out what it was.

warnings: gender-neutral pronouns, lower-case writing, mentions of death, creepy oc, knife, manipulative oc, suggestive line, ending kind of falls off

wc: 2.5k+

click here to learn more about the original character

click here to learn about the world/setting

ON ORIENTATION DAY OF THE FIRST YEAR OF UNIVERSITY, the sun was especially warm and the leaves were a healthier green than ever before. the freshmen excitement of a new year, at university nonetheless, was loud and prevalent in the air. the many conversations and greetings were to be expected, but not unanimously appreciated.

namely, (name), who only seemed interested in the scenery. the white rays of sun peeking through the photogenic trees on campus were far more important than making connections as of right now. after all, they had come to university to continue their education, not to play around. the most interaction they had done and planned to do was to collect the obligatory "20XX orientation" shirt.

(name) was a scholarship student at xinshen global university, or in other words, the top one university in the country. or in other words, one of the most expensive universities on the globe. the stakes were especially high for (name) as they were just an ordinary person who had been given the same chance as the spoiled elite children they used to curse. there was no way all of the studying (name) did would go to waste just because they wanted to play around. that could all wait a couple more years.

much to (name)'s happiness, students slowly began to shuffle into their respective buildings and the volume outside the campus greatly decreased. as for (name), their first destination was one of the many auditorium halls on campus.

they entered the auditorium, albeit a bit later than everyone else. open seating was sparse so they decided to take a seat in a back corner. where they sat did not matter, since the contents of the presentation would probably be the same guidelines held at every school.

what caught (name)'s attention though had nothing to do with the orientation presentation, but another student. dressed in all black and oddly formal attire was a tall and handsome blonde man. he entered much later than everyone else, but the presenter did not seem bothered in the slightest by his tardiness. being as seating was sparse, the man had decided to take a seat next to (name). it became difficult to focus on the presentation from then on as his thick leathery cologne seemed to choke (name).

from then on, it felt like the universe was trying to push them close together. (name) saw him not only in the auditorium, but campus tours, mini-group icebreakers, and even as (name) walked out of the door from meeting with their course counselor, there he was, sitting on the chair outside. every time (name) would look over to take a glance at him, he would give a friendly smile.

while others would brush it off as pure coincidence, (name) secretly felt in their heart that maybe this was fate. the odd separation between them was stabbed through by afternoon. obviously, (name) was not the only one that picked up on the continuous encounters.

the man approached (name) as they sat on a bench outside, enjoying the perfect breeze of the new semester. he wore a friendly smile on his face that would let a stranger invite him into their house. "it seems our paths keep colliding. i'd be glad to know your name, friend."

(name) looked up at the man, who was now holding his hand out for a handshake. they hesitantly took his hand, "its (name). what's yours?"

"aren't i rude? i was so excited to make a new friend that i forgot to introduce myself," he shook his head with a tint of laughter, "song yuzheng. i believe that's a little to formal though, so call me yuzheng. i'm a business major. and you are?"

"me too," (name) responded. however, yuzheng did not respond back and only looked at them, as if to purposefully leave the air empty. (name) began to get nervous and blurted out what they hoped to fill the space, "i mean that i'm also a business major. well, the architecture here is really nice, so i was honestly thinking of switching to photography. the city is completely different from where i'm from and i kept thinking it would be cool to capture that."

yuzheng still stood up, forcing (name) to look up at him just to meet his eyes, "i noticed you looking around at the entrance. not many people from the rural parts of the country have to opportunity to get here. you must be exceptional."

"hah," (name) let out a breath, "yeah, actually i was pretty scared since i know most of the student population here are, well ..." they trailed off, realizing that yuzheng was dressed exactly like the "rich scum" they disliked. they tried not to offend him.

his smile grew, "a large sum of students here are well off and only admitted because of their connections. with no doubt, it is an elite school, but the populace is becoming a bit less academically inclined. i'm aware."

"yeah, something like that. honestly, i used to make fun of rich people since i'm a scholarship student. i hate how most of them are so arrogant and how little struggle they've experienced."

in a manner equally as strange as he was, yuzheng rested his hand on (name)'s shoulder. "well, rest assured friend, i share some of your opinions. i think you'll make great company. perhaps we could even study together."

that encounter alone had sent (name) into thought for the rest of the day. they realized that during the entire conversation, if one could call it that, they learned nothing about yuzheng and only talked about themselves. yet, he still made them feel special.

was it some kind of cinderella story? compared to yuzheng, (name) was just a country bumpkin because upon closer look it was obvious that yuzheng was made from money, and a lot of it.

the inside of his shirt's collar had a print of a designer brand, amongst the gold designer belt that (name) had swore they saw go for ten times their living expenses, and the dress shoes he wore with a buckle of the same logo. from the scent of leather they picked up in the auditorium too, his belt and shoes were more likely than not to be completely real.

(name) swore they were beginning to lose their mind. they had just talked to yuzheng for the first time, nonetheless met him, and they were already beginning to analyze the small details of his outfit. however, they were definitely not one of the only ones to notice these details.

as (name) watched yuzheng from a distance, they noticed the glances he got from everyone around him and the small conversations people would try to strike up with him. across all of them, he kept the same friendly demeanor as he did with (name).

(name) supposed that they were not very special to him at all, despite the way he made them feel earlier.

THE TWO WEEKS AFTER ORIENTATION, (NAME) DECIDED TO GO ON A WALK. move-in day had passed and (name) had settled into on-campus housing, given the horrendous price of an apartment in the city. the wealth gap of the country was really beginning to show.

with no experience in the city, it was natural that were beginning to get lost. one moment, they were in front of the river that stretched across the city and the next, they were in what was obviously a rich district.

once, they looked into the window of a cafe in the area. as their eyes landed on the menu and its prices, they almost gulped from surprise.

an arm wrapped around their shoulders, "aren't i glad to see a familiar face."

(name) jumped, completely unaware that yuzheng had been walking towards them while they were drooling at a cafe's prices, "oh, yuzheng right? yeah."

"you should be careful, you're drooling right here," yuzheng pointed to one side of his mouth as to signal to (name) to wipe their face. after they realized that there was nothing there, he confessed, "i'm joking of course. however, i could treat you to a meal here. you're wagging your tail for it."

"oh, i couldn't pay you back for it. i think i'll just go back to the campus and get something there," (name) waved off his offer, "they were telling us all about how great the food was at orientation, so i might as well give it a try, right?"

yuzheng practically began to push (name) into the cafe, "it wouldn't hurt to try though. think of it as a welcome gift from your upperclassman."

this time, they were sitting face to face across from each other, though yuzheng had gotten up briefly to order something. he had not asked for what (name) wanted, so they assumed he really was just going to order for himself.

"upperclassman?" (name) asked, intending to only sit and watch him as he ordered what he wanted, "weren't you also at orientation? i thought you were a freshman."

"i never said that," yuzheng shrugged. although his tone was light, a weight seemed to drop in (name)'s stomach, as if her gut was trying to warn her. "you should stop assuming things about people. it's rude. i'm in my third year."

(name) hesitated to even meet his gaze, "ah, sorry."

yuzheng had raised his hand when his name was called. the server brought a large stand of pastries and baked goods, along with two cups of lemonade.

"well, i didn't want you to have to pick just one, so i decided to order an entire tower," he picked up the glass on his side of the table, "i do think you should try their lemonade. they're rather popular for it."

"i really can't pay you back for this," (name) tried to explain, yet was only interrupted.

"i never expected you to," yuzheng placed a few sandwiches on (name)'s plate, "did i really make that horrible of an impression on you? you seem to think i'm quite selfish."

as if (name) was accused of a crime, they began to stutter, "that isn't it at all. the opposite actually."

"oh really?" his eyes did not meet theirs, "you made a rather strong impression on me as well. i quite like you."

(name)'s face began to burn, wondering what his definition of "like" would be. that was until his phone began to violently buzz. yuzheng apologized for the interruption as he looked at his phone.

he unexpectedly stood up, "i have to leave. of course, i already paid for everything, so you can continue to enjoy the experience."

just as he passed the table to leave, (name) turned around, "will we meet again?"

without a glance behind him, yuzheng answered, "without a doubt."

something was off about song yuzheng, and something had blossomed in (name) to know what it was.

as (name) began to look back at their encounters, it was obvious that yuzheng was not a freshman. while everyone else wore the obnoxious orientation shirt, yuzheng was dressed in a black dress-shirt. furthermore, there was no way he approached (name) with pure intentions. the likelihood of a rich upperclassmen approaching a freshman that was clearly not from the area just to be friends was unlikely.

so, why was he at orientation? why did his phone nearly fall off the table because of his notifications? did he know that (name) would be in the area?

ON THE FIRST DAY OF CLASSES, (name) tried their best to follow yuzheng without alerting him. however, that did not last long.

"i must have made a rather good impression on you after all," yuzheng turned around to face (name) who was hidng behind a corner. "although i'm glad, you should be honest about your feelings. i may get too invested in a cat and mouse chase."

"yuzheng, hey! i just," (name) stumbled upon their words, unable to make a valid excuse. none of it would work on yuzheng anyways.

without any other words, yuzheng pulled (name) into a forceful hug and whispered into their ear, "i wanted to see you too. you shouldn't try to hide from me."

yuzheng pulled his phone from his pocket and took a photo, making sure that his phone would make a loud click as he took the photo. as he let go, he showed his phone to (name), "you like taking photos right? i'll save this one as a blissful memory of us."

yuzheng briefly flipped his phone back to himself, looking at something that (name) suspected was not the photo he took of them. then, he returned his gaze to them, "this time, let's meet on a planned occasion, you don't know your way around the city, so you should give me your dorm number. i'll visit you tonight."

(name) shook their head, "i don't think thats appropriate, you can get in trouble for that."

THE SMALL CRUSH (NAME) HAD DEVELOPED FOR YUZHENG WAS ROTTING INTO FEAR. though they managed to run away before he could ask any further question, they had a feeling that yuzheng had let them go easily on purpose. that he was always watching.

that night, (name) sat in their single dorm. they lights were all out, as the adrenaline rush they felt earlier crashed them to fall asleep immediately from exhaustion. (name) woke up at midnight before they heard a knock on the door. there was no way that it was not yuzheng.

they just hoped he would go away. (name) feared that if they moved, he would hear their steps and see it as someone being home, so they stayed still in bed.

the lock began to jiggle and a screetch like that of nails on a chalkboard emitted from the hinges of the door.

"i told you not to try to hide from me," yuzheng stepped inside, making sure to lock the door on his way in. "i thought they improved the lock system on campus. i suppose given the amenities that might not be in the budget though."

(name)'s body was not allowing them to get out of bed, forcing them to stare in fear yuzheng got closer and closer towards them. they noticed yuzheng grab a knife from the kitchen, causing their sweat to go cold.

"i can practically see your thoughts through your eyes, youre asking me how i know where you live and how i got in," yuzheng shrugged, "among other things like why i am about to end your life. but if i tell you why i'm here, would you believe me?"

"if you insist, i'll tell you," yuzheng finally got to the bed where (name) was laying and took a seat right next to them, "you could say i decided to join a game. it really doesn't have anything to do with you, but i get a large sum of money for streaming things like this."

he held him his phone, yet this time (name) noticed a chat that seemed to call for their death. yuzheng continued, "i'm sorry (name), seems you were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. i'll get a hefty sum for killing you. perhaps i'll send some to your family for funeral costs."

tears fell from (name)'s eyes, causing yuzheng to lure them into another hug, "i did have some interest in you. but this is just what i need to do. you understand right? now close your eyes and say goodnight."

(name) felt a spot on their back go cold and wet. yuzheng had lodged the knife into their back.

#oc #original character #fandomless oc #tart. fiction #oc x reader #original character x reader #x reader #oneshot #this is way longer than i intended my bad guys #yandere!oc x reader

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