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palestinegenocide · 5 months ago

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274 Palestinian lives don’t matter to the Biden administration

This week provided further evidence – if any were lacking — that anti-Palestinian bias is simply a rule of American politics, and today maybe the leading rule.

Yesterday Israel killed 274 Palestinians and wounded hundreds more in Gaza’s Nuseirat refugee camp while freeing four Israeli hostages, and the U.S. promptly hailed the “rescue”. It is beyond question that this was an indiscriminate massacre, but Joe Biden saluted the Israeli action, and so did Secretary of State, without a mention of Palestinian lives.

“As if we needed more proof of how little this administration values Palestinian lives,” Khaled Elgindy wrote.

Mainstream reporters are horrified, but politely. After the last outrage earlier this week, when Israel killed dozens of Palestinians in a school, a reporter asked at the State Department: “People might find it very puzzling that you have the leverage of $3.8 billion of defense supplied to the Israelis per year, and you cannot compel this situation to change.”

The State Department said the U.S. has prodded Israel, and there’s been progress. “We have seen them [the Israelis] take improvements over time.”

So the U.S. keeps pouring money and weapons into Israel, and the Democratic base believes overwhelmingly that it’s a genocide, and Biden keeps saying he wants a ceasefire, but won’t apply any pressure to achieve it.

Republicans are at least more honest about their policy. Nikki Haley—a possible running mate for Trump —visited Israel at the end of May and wrote “Finish them” on an Israeli shell. Even as the death count in Gaza crossed 36,000.

This disdain for Palestinian life is consistent throughout the American establishment. Variety reported this week that a Hollywood marketing guru warned her employees that they should hit “pause on working with any celebrity or influencer or tastemaker posting against Israel.”

In an email, Ashlee Margolis said, “Anyone saying Israel is committing a ‘genocide’ is someone we will pause on working with, as that is simply not true…. While Jews are devastated by the loss of innocent lives in Gaza, we are feeling immense fear over the rising Jew Hatred all over the world.”

So again, Palestinian lives just don’t matter, next to Jewish fears.

This special degraded status for Palestinians has become an area of study for Palestinian intellectuals. Rabea Eghbariah, a human rights lawyer and doctoral student at Harvard, wrote a lengthy legal argument for a new term for the Palestinian condition.

“The law does not possess the language that we desperately need to accurately capture the totality of the Palestinian condition. From occupation to apartheid and genocide, the most commonly applied legal concepts rely on abstraction and analogy to reveal particular facets of subordination,” Eghbariah wrote –and offered the idea of “Nakba” as a legal concept to encompass that subordination.

But Eghbariah’s argument was censored, first by the Harvard Law Review, in “an unprecedented” move against a fully-edited essay, as the Intercept reported. Then, in an even more unprecedented fashion, by the Columbia Law Review this week, whose board of directors, which includes alumni with ties to the Biden administration, actually shut down the entire website when Eghbariah’s piece went up. (In the ensuing controversy, they have now restored the site).

In the eyes of the world, Palestinians only count when they are dying. That is what Qassam Muaddi wrote at our site this week, in an essay titled, “Against a world without Palestinians.”

Over the years, learning our Palestinian history, I began to notice that in order to be acknowledged by the rest of the world, we Palestinians always had to die…. It is as if in order to exist without justification, Palestinians had to intimately deal with death — they could master it, put up the best show of it, but they always had to die.

Qassam went on to explain that all that builds Palestinian character, including culture and stories, has no place in the world as it is. It must always be dismissed as terrorism or something less than human.

He actually ends that essay with hope, that the global discourse of Palestine is finally changing.

And the next day, another 274 Palestinians were killed, with full U.S. support. And Democrats wonder why democracy is in crisis.

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tragedybunny · 8 months ago

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Pretty Baby

༺Summary༻

Astarion is a trophy wife that does online porn and gets soft dommed by his loving wife.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Tav

༺Warnings༻ NSFW - PiV Sex, Anal Play, Femdom, Mommy Kink, Feminization

༺Word Count༻ 2870

༺A/N༻ I'm gonna be straight with ya - there was a lot of pseudoephed and sinus cold involved in the conception of this. I am accepting no responsibility for it.

Read On AO3

It's 6 PM and I just got home from the office. Pulling into the driveway, I let the car idle a bit before getting out. It builds the anticipation, I know he can hear it, know that he's in there, waiting for me, my sweet wife, my Astarion.

He's kneeling on that plush white rug that I indulged him and bought, even though it's a nightmare to have cleaned. That perfect body of his is clothed in nothing but his new pink, lacy, lingerie set that we picked out yesterday.

I feel myself getting a little wet thinking about it, how I watched him put it on this morning during his stream. Whenever I have time, I like to turn it on, even in the background, watch what they're all wishing they could have, but it belongs to me.

He'd been artfully arranged in bed when it had started. “Hello darlings,” he'd purred for his audience. “Forgive my state, I'm just waking up.”

I laughed loud enough that I was thankful my office door was closed. Did anyone really believe he looked that made up fresh out of bed. He'd been up since I got up, cooking us breakfast in an old band t-shirt and boxers, curls wild, red eyes full of sleep still. My sweet little albino weirdo, he listened to me complain about how we were out of blueberries for my oatmeal and promised to get more. “Get some strawberries too while you're there,” I'd added on my way out the door. After I left for work, he got ready for his stream.

Whenever someone at the law firm asked what my spouse did, I told them he was a social media marketing consultant. When they asked for who, I told them it was all hush-hush, NDA's, they were lawyers, they understood. At this point, they were convinced he worked for the pentagon or something, if only they knew.

After he told the audience his ridiculous lie, he rolled over in bed and stretched dramatically, flexing lean muscles for the camera. “I need to go to the farmer’s market today, mommy is out of organic blueberries. But she got me something special and told me I have to wear it if I leave the house.”

My hands had drifted to the crotch of my pants, client emails forgotten. He had been asking to wear a plug outside the house, I told him if he remembered his lingerie and to send me pictures, we'd talk. Pulling the set from his dresser drawer, he showed it to the camera. “Mommy is spoiling me, isn't she, darlings?”

My fingers ghosted over my mound as I watched him put on the pink bralette and thong panties. Somehow, it was more intoxicating than seeing him nude. “I'll be taking some pictures later that you all can indulge in, but for now I'm off.”

Thinking back on it, I can't wait anymore and turn the car off. As soon as I walk in the door, I head straight for the living room, dropping my bag on the chair to find my little treat waiting for me, on his knees, still dressed like I'd told him. “There's my little wife,” I greet him, and he knows he's good to talk.

“Hi mommy, how was your day.” He shifts one leg forward on instinct so that I can put my foot on his thigh.

“Fine, nothing terribly exciting,” I answer as he takes my shoe off. Switching feet, he takes the other one off, kissing my leg through my suit pants.

“I'm glad it wasn't too stressful.” Shoes gone, he starts to work on my pants.

“And how about you, were you a good little wife today? I saw you getting dressed on your stream.” I run my hand through his platinum curls and give them a playful tug.

He smiles proudly. “Yes, mommy, I did my errand and I had a nice day. I love it when you take time to watch me.”

“I know you do, baby. And you sent me so many nice pictures of you in your gift, just like I asked.” I step out of the pants and signal him to stand so he can finish undressing me. When he's done, he hands me a comfortable, loose dress he has ready. “What's for dinner?”

Astarion is a middling cook, and we eat a lot of take out, but sometimes it's nice to push him out of his comfort zone. Especially since he doesn't do all that much around the house with the maid service and the grocery delivery. He's a trophy wife. I knew that the moment I met him though, back in law school. He'd been forced into it by his adoptive father, Cazador Szarr and was so visibly unhappy with it and his whole life. We'd eloped six months after we met so I could get him out from under that monster’s thumb. I hadn't regretted it since, our less traditional proclivities even ended up complementing one another.

“Lasagna,” he says, looping his arms around my waist and burying his face in my shoulder. “It's almost done and I promise the maid didn't help this time.”

“Good job, baby. Go handle my clothes and we'll eat.”

Dinner is served by Astarion with a cute little apron over his lingerie. Not every night is playtime like this, but it is Friday so we've got time to enjoy ourselves. The lasagna is an improvement over the last time and he even took care to make a wine pairing from a local winery. “They had samples at the farmers market, so I could make sure it's up to your standards.”

The bottle comes back with us to the living room where I leave Astarion to pick out a movie while I grab some toys for the evening. His eyes get wide with excitement as I lay them out on the table next to the wine glasses. My wand, his plug with the pink jewel top, lube, and his paddle in case he gets bratty. I don't spank him often, only when he's seriously asking for it.

“Come here, wifey.” I take a seat on the champagne pink couch and settle him between my legs with a glass of wine.

What we're watching doesn't even matter as he starts loving on me almost immediately. The skirt of my dress is short enough that it rides up and leaves plenty of me exposed. He kisses and nibbles my thighs, fingers digging in, begging for my attention. My own underwear are getting slick.

“Please, can I pleasure you?” He rasps, finishing his wine and setting the glass aside. Kneeling, he turns to face me, crimson eyes begging.

“Hmm, you said you were good today. Did you get my blueberries?” He nods enthusiastically. “And the strawberries?” His face falls, I did add that at the last minute, maybe it's a little unfair.

“I forgot,” he looks down at the carpet. Poor little dear, his cock is already half-hard in his panties.

“You can use the wand for now. Anything else depends on your behavior.” He doesn't look up right away and I tip his chin up with my fingers. “Understood?”

“Yes, mommy.” Obediently, he retrieves my wand and sets it to low, he's so well-trained with it.

My legs spread and he bushes it lightly against my clit through my underwear. “Good baby.”

He works me gently to the precipice, stroking the wand over me rhythmically until I'm panting and groaning in need. My fingers wrap themselves in his curls and I tug him forward, demanding more. Placing it flush against me, he goes back to kissing my thighs.

Bucking my hips against the wand, I feel myself letting go. “I'm going to come love, you're doing so good.” Moaning, I clench around nothing, and pull his face against my sodden underwear by his hair.

Taking the wand, I turn it off and pet him, fingers drifting lightly over his scalp. Despite not fulfilling all my requests, I know I'm going to need him inside me tonight. I'll just have to think of a little punishment to remind him that he's not getting away with it. But for now, I want to play with my little wife.

“Lay in my lap, let's get this plug in you.”

He blushes adorably and quickly does as he is told, laying across my thighs so I can reach his bottom. Taking another drink of wine, I let him wait, feeling him squirm with anticipation. Finally, I grab the lube and coat my fingers.

Pulling his thong to the side, I spread him open and gently work a finger inside him. Below me he already starts making noises. Another finger slips in and he mewls. “Feeling good, baby?”

“Yes, mommy, you're so good to me.”

My fingers flex inside him, eliciting little moans as I prep him. When I'm satisfied he's ready, I lube up the plug and place it teasingly close to his entrance. “I want you to keep still, and no coming. If you want to wear this out of the house, you need to prove you're not going to be a mess about it.”

“Y-yes, mommy.”

This is actually unfair and he knows it. I wouldn't be there to play with him if he wore it out. But he accepts it like the good wife he is.

Slowly, I push it inside of him, treasuring the little gasps he makes. Once it's inside, I give it a firm push and he actually yelps. Poor thing, I'm just getting started.

Focusing on the movie, I start to idly play with it. Teasingly, I tug on it, working it back and forth until I feel him rut against my thigh. Lightly, I smack his bottom in warning. “What did I say?” He stills but whimpers as I keep going.

After he's good and worked up, I give him a break, rubbing his back and playing with his curls. I feel his cock, hard enough to dig into my thigh, and his panties wet with pre-cum.

When his breathing evens out, I start again and feel him shaking as he fights the urge to thrust against me. “Mommy, please,” he whines.

“A little longer baby,” I answer soothingly, now fucking him properly with it.

His moans turn to cries as he fights the rising tide of an orgasm, control something he's never been particularly good at. Finally, I take pity and stop, letting the plug settle inside him. “I think you've been very good tonight. I'm going to let you fuck me, but you can't finish in me because you still need a punishment for forgetting.”

He petulantly agrees and gets off my lap, kneeling on near me, while I set my clothes and lay out on the couch. “You can touch and kiss all you want.” I instruct, reaching out to stroke him through wet lace. “These are so pretty, but let's get them off so we don't ruin them.”

When they're discarded on the floor, he slots himself between my thighs and runs his hands over my body. “You're so beautiful. How did I get so lucky?”

I'm so wet, there's no resistance as he slides inside me, a relieved groan escaping him. His lips kiss every inch of me as he pumps slowly into me with restraint that's been trained into him.

Hesitantly, he takes a nipple between his lips, looking up to make sure he has permission. I nod and he hungrily suckles at it, the pace of his hips increasing.

“That's it, harder.” I encourage, reaching to scrape my nails along his back and ass. His hips snap harshly as he stays latched onto me, teeth scraping my nipple with just the right amount of pain. “I'm close, touch me.”

His fingers eagerly dip between my legs, knowing he can't come unless I do first. My hips buck into the firm circles he's rubbing, and my legs wrap around his back. He fucks so damn good. “That's it, love, such a good little wife,” I moan and see stars.

He whines and jerks back as I'm still riding my high. “I- I'm,” the rest of his words are lost to heaving breaths as he tries not to spill himself.

“We need to work on that control of yours,” I scold gently and he pouts. “I'll remember that attitude later. Now go on and finish up.”

“Thank you, mommy.” He palms himself and begins to stroke vigorously.

Reaching for my phone from the table behind me, I open the camera. I'll hold onto these for myself for a while, then let him post them. I don't mind sharing his beauty with the audience, but I get first dibs.

“There's my pretty baby,” I coo, watching his face beam at the praise while I snap the loveliest pictures of him.

“I want to watch you come. Can you do that for me? Get it all over yourself.” I zoom in on his leaking cock, elegant fingers wrapped around it, then his face, eyes closed, mouth parted.

With a final moan, he comes, seed coating his stomach and pelvis. “Look at me love.” His eyes are hazy when he brings them to mine, and he's smiling dazedly. “Let me get some pictures of you, you're such a beautiful little mess.”

God, I may keep these forever, he looks so blissed out. Putting my phone away, I lean over and kiss him tenderly. “Let's get you in a bath.”

In the water, he curls up in my arms, the little spoon, my cherished wife. “Did you enjoy yourself,” I ask, kissing the top of his head.

“I always do with you.” Taking one of my hands, he kisses it reverently.

“And you still like all this, right?”

He goes stiff in my arms and hesitates. His adoptive father had no tolerance for Astarion’s more unique tastes. “Yes,” he breathes, distraught enough that I feel bad.

“That's good, because we have to make a special stop before groceries for the dinner party tomorrow.” Grabbing my phone, I open the email concerning a gift I ordered him.

A rose gold metallic band sits on a bed of red velvet. A normal choker, save for the tiny lock in place of closure. “You mean it?” His voice is breathy with excitement.

“Of course, a pretty collar for my pretty wife.”

“Can I wear it to the dinner party?”

“Are you ready for everyone to see it?” I don't want him taking on too much at once.

“I am, besides, I can't wait to see who's the most awkward about it.” Little breathy giggles escape him.

“Gale for sure,” I add my laughter to his, glad he's so happy.

“Can…can I wear a skirt tomorrow when we go out?”

“Sure baby. Do you want one for the party too?” I've asked before if he wanted to be thought of as a different gender, and he always says no, despite very much wanted to be called wife.

“No, I think the collar will be enough excitement for them.”

“Alright, that sounds like a good plan. Now let's get out of here before we both get all pruney.”

The camera is set up for an early stream the next morning. Astarion flounces into the room in the fluffiest black tulle skirt with cream silk blouse. “Good morning darlings, mommy is taking me out today, and she said since I was good I get a little reward.”

He bends himself over the ottoman that's the same pink hue as the couch. A pretty little sight with his bottom in the air. “And she's going to be nice and help me with it.”

I don't make appearances on his stream often, and they're always from the waist down to avoid recognition. Carefully, I sit next to him on the couch, keeping my face out of view, and push his skirt up before pulling down his panties. Sensible black cotton for today. We gave him some prep off camera so the audience can get straight to the goods.

Plug in hand, I give him a showy little spread first. That's right, look at my wife's cute little asshole you simps, I think to the audience spending their hard-earned money on him. I push it in, letting his whimpers fill the air. It's so hard to not talk, to not call him pretty baby and tell him how good he is, but I can't have my voice recognized.

When it's in, I give his bottom a few firm smacks for everyone watching to enjoy. A little payback for the pout last night. “Mommy,” he whines, not having expected the improptu punishment. When I'm finished, I pull his panties back up and he turns to sit facing the camera, eyes watery. “We've got a busy day, so I probably won't see you all again today. I promise a nice long video next time.”

Once he gets the camera off, I pull him in for a kiss, tongue darting into his mouth. “Let's get going. I want to make it back early enough ruin this cute little outfit of yours.”

#bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #bg3 tav #tav #astarion x tav #my fanfic #my writing

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elenor222 · 4 months ago

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A Kendall Roy (Succession) Series

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: established relationship.

All characters are of age. This story is 18+.

part 1 part 2

NEW YORK

“Hi, I’m looking for Kendall? Comco?” says a lean, off the street, suited up man. There are creases on his pants. His jaw is slacked and eyes are blown and puffy. She turns her gaze over to Frank from her position on the chair handrest and motions for him to acknowledge him. Frank fixes his tie and doubles over. Emily clanks her teeth and looks over at Kendall.

She wonders if he had received her lawyer’s notice. Kendall still has those washed-up ocean eyes, Emily notices. It wouldn’t surprise her if he tried to subdue her lawyer or worse, buy him out. He was fully capable of going to any extent to prove his superiority. But she was tired of the game. It isn’t fun like it used to be back then. Long before, they were fighting and making up. His strong arms were always there to cradle her when she fell apart. But this time it was radio silence. She had wailed at first, throwing hands like a child. And then she went back to work like it was any other day at the firm.

The Business Alchemist opens his decked-up briefcase. His cerulean eyes roam over the room and settle on Emily. He relaxes his nerves and speaks.

“I was sent by” he looks flustered “Roman. To burn some sage?”

Inside the briefcase are a bunch of dried herbs. Emily quirks her brows. It is so biblical; she wants to laugh. Instead, her eyes gleam with anticipation. If she stayed up all night trying to write an official email to Logan about the buyout hike and explaining to her lawyer how to approach Kendall’s legal team, her foundation does not show it. She runs her hand through her hair untangling it, she squints her eyes towards the team expecting someone to speak up about the security breach.

“Excuse me?” Kendall’s mouth is open. Theres a bead of sweat on his Adam’s apple and his neck looks so menacingly appealing.

“It’s auspicious? I’m a business alchemist. It’s a gift, from your brother. He has a bunch of sage pulled out.” Emily perks up at the mention of the younger Roy. She has always held a soft spot for the joker card.

“Will it set off the smoke alarms?”

“Not usually.”

“‘Not usually’?” Kendall questions mockingly. Emily tries not to laugh. A small smile seeps its way through. Kendall gazes at her longingly. The day has been good so far. And if the board notices, they don’t react.

“Yeah, we’re looking at a 20 billion market cap merger so I think we’ll need a little more reassurance before we break it up with a building evacuation?” Frank looks up at Emily in an affectionate manner to put some sense in her caffeine filled mind. She looks right back at him.

Just then, Roman Roy, 38, taut and face like midsummer dream, ready to roll, steps in. He’s wearing a blue suit with gelled back hair. Emily offers him a nod. He ignores her with a huff.

“Hey Hey Hey Motherfuckers!” he says with his usual charm.

“We’re just concerned about the smoke alarm?” Frank looks confused if not surprised.

“Yeah, right, bad ju-ju.” He points towards the business alchemist” I think just fuck off thanks.” He waves his hands as he rushes him out.

“You okay man?” Kendall’s face gives out his true feelings. Is he there to breach his step up to the company?

“Of course I’m okay. Obviously, I’m okay. Why do you ask?” Kendall interrupts him with something but Roman is quick to ignore his pleas in a Roy fashion. Roman continues “So what’s the bid?” Everyone looks around. For being in such high positions, Emily wonders, they do not have much vocational skills. But she understands, one syllable overstepping the mark, and the Roy’s would fuck them over for life.

“What that’s “commercially sensitive” - I’m still on the board bro!” Roman genuinely feels left out most of the time. But Emily knows better, the actual oldest sibling remains forgotten all the time.

Kendall hesitates. “One twenty five.”

Roman is sceptic. He isn’t going to put himself out there by pinning down just what this implies. Emily scans his face, she of course knows he wants to say.

“Whatever! You seriously think you can swallow something this big? Your funeral. You’ll be captain soon enough.” He lets out a bitter laugh. Kendall widens his eyes motioning him to shut the fuck up.

“Oh c’mon, every intern on the Street knows you’re stepping up. Congrats man, congrats. So pleased to be out. The company was essentially a cage to me.” He looks around and chuckles.

“And look at this fucking bullshit, chipmunk doesn’t even bother to call me back.” Roman finally smiles up to Emily. The room lights up. He moves up to hug his brother’s wife. He wraps his arms around her in a bear hug. He smells fruity. Almost a strawberry scent with notes of vanilla. Emily lets out a breath.

The team scatters out not wanting to witness the family’s interactions. “I’ve missed you” Emily whispers, hands clawing at his chest. Her eyes are glossy. He whispers something back to her but she’s too lost in comfort to listen to his blabber. Kendall is standing outside the glass door looking at them. His eye bags appear more prominent. He’s trying to breathe in but all he’s offered is carbon.

2PM

The room at the investment bank has been tidied up, but recessed with breakfast stuff. Emily is sitting there quietly circling the plate with her spoon. The pasta sauce has almost dried up. There’s a crack of the doors opening.

“Logan?”

“How’s it going?” he passes a genuine lift. The room jerks into life with a bolt of electricity, everyone present sits up tidier. They try to adjust to the new center of gravity in the room. Yet, this is a poised version. Logan sweeps the room. He clocks Frank. And winks at him.

“Hey, need something? Emily walks up to the bear. He’s moving in to the private space where Kendall is sitting. She takes a moment to consider if she wants to be a part of this specific family time. She turns back on her heel and tells him she’ll be right out. She lets out a breath when she realizes he’s gone. There’s a buzz of surprise inside the room. It takes a while before she gets her call.

“Uh-huh. That’s what we expect. Do you need Emily?” Logan calls out for her looking at his son in distaste. Kendall looks paranoid. He wants everything to go his way. And he definitely doesn’t want to seem like a manchild who needs his wife for everything. Emily walks in with slow steps and logan motion her towards the papers in hand.

“Do I need to lawyer all this?” she looks at Kendall questioningly. She’s not sure where he stands with his father after the latest mishaps and roman’s arrival. Her eyes are blank when Kendall tries to read her expressions.

“It’s housekeeping.” Logan hands Kendall a pen. There is thick tension in the air. Even though Kendall wants to be trusted he still worries about the prophecy. He looks over at Emily. She’s going through the papers with pursued lips. Theres a frown on her forehead. Kendall knows this can’t be good.

Logan clearly wants this - and Kendall wants to be liked, to demonstrate his faith. Logan throughout the ordeal continues making an assessment of his son. Emily looks up at him and blinks twice. There is no time. Kendall takes the pen.

3PM

“Yeah. On that. Lunch. I really want to be with you but –“Kendall motions to the room, the deal.

“If you need to stay here, you need to stay here.” Kendall tries to read his dad.

“Thank you. I really want to be with you?” Kendall looks over at Emily to look for agreement. She stays still. “It’s just, in case anything blows up. Not that I can see how it would” Kendall waits for a hint. But Logan gives him no steer. He’s trying to read the situation how his father would. Kendall wants his dad to tell him what to do, but also, both personally and professionally doesn’t want to ask for direction.

“Son, it’s your call. It’s just - priorities. That’s hard. Business versus family. I hope you, on the other hand, will be there”. Logan motion towards Emily. She nods looking down. Marcia had given her a call inviting her. Marcia had also implied that she didn’t understand why she had to call the couple on both ends. Emily though agitated by her remarks, replied curtly that she would love to visit representing the senior team.

“Listen. Let me see how things break down, okay?” Kendall is interested now if he wasn’t before. He thought Emily would up front refuse any personal meetings with his family. But he realizes that the wound runs deeper.

Logan rushes off and Kendall pulls Emily to an empty boardroom.

Author’s note: Next chapter will be filled with smut. Yooohoo less go. Any and all interactions are highly appreciated. Also requests for other fandoms are open <3

#succession #shiv roy #roman roy x reader #roman roy #kendall roy #tom wambsgans #jeremy strong #succession imagine #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy fanfic #requests open

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ukrfeminism · 2 years ago

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5 minute read

TW: descriptions of sexual violence from the start

“For two hours he tortured me, his hands were everywhere. I thought rape was inevitable, I wondered whether I’d get out alive. We were in an empty property on a quiet cul-de-sac and he’d completely overpowered me.” These are the words of a female estate agent who was attacked by the seller of a property she had gone to value in Essex.

Hers is not a lone voice. Women in the property industry, who frequently visit empty homes alone — either to value them for sellers or to show prospective buyers around — are speaking out about the dangers.

Now, 30 years after the estate agent Suzy Lamplugh was declared dead (seven years after going missing on a viewing in Fulham, west London, with a man who called himself “Mr Kipper”) and 31 years after the Birmingham estate agent Stephanie Slater was kidnapped during a house viewing, women are saying it still isn’t safe to do their job.

Only 22 per cent of estate agents and letting agents, male and female, feel safe when on viewings, while 82 per cent say estate agent safety isn’t taken seriously enough — according to a survey of 150 agents across the country Allan Fuller an estate agent in Putney, southwest London.

The case of the estate agent in Essex, who spoke anonymously to The Times, was dropped by the Crown Prosecution Service last year, two days before coming to court. “I am furious, he had the money to hire a big shot lawyer. I feel let down,” she says. “It has been absolutely horrendous. It had a massive effect on my whole life: my relationship of 15 years broke down and I ended up on antidepressants and having panic attacks every time I went on a valuation.”

Although she has now moved agencies, she continues to work as an estate agent. “I thought, if I give up my job, he has won again — and I love my job.” However, she insists her female colleagues carry rape alarms, check in before and after house visits, and follow strict protocols about leaving doors open in properties and never getting into cars with sellers or potential buyers.

Fuller says: “There is a common misperception in the industry that ‘it won’t happen to me’.”

The responses to Fuller’s survey show that it does happen. One female respondent who works in the West Midlands wrote: “I recently valued a property and met with a man accused of domestic violence and I have never felt so uncomfortable in my life. He proceeded to show me an over-stair cupboard and said that there was ‘enough space for three dead bodies’. I left quickly after that.”

Other comments included:

“During a repossession the owner climbed into the loft and was threatening with a knife. Police had to taser him twice to safely remove him.”

“Carrying out a market appraisal with a gentleman who revealed he was due in court the next day to be charged with rape.”

“I believed a viewer was carrying a knife on a viewing, they were trying to get me into a certain room. The vibe wasn’t good, so I managed to email my office an SOS. Two members of staff came and pretended to be the next viewers.”

And: “I was covering a valuation and the person locked me in without me knowing and as I went to leave he went to hug me. I had to duck under his arm and unlatch the door quickly to get out.”

It’s not just on visits that workers are vulnerable, though. One estate agent told The Times how she was assaulted by a prospective buyer while working alone in an office in Oxford on a dark December evening. After being cornered, by the photocopier, she says she managed to “thump him in the windpipe” and run for help. He was arrested and charged. She now insists all her staff carry rape alarms and follow strict safety rules in and out of the office.

Fuller says he makes staff safety a priority too, sending his staff on self-defence courses — “one tip I picked up was if a man is making an unwanted move on a woman she should look as if she’s about to be sick, they soon back off” — issuing rape alarms, fitting CCTV and insisting that prospective buyers and sellers visit the office, verify their name and address, and are captured on camera before going on viewings.

Claire Lewis, 65, was an estate agent in Putney at the time Lamplugh went missing. She says: “Everyone was so shocked, we’d been getting into cars with prospective clients and going on viewings with men. It never occurred to us that anything could happen. That all changed and we suddenly became much more aware.”

However, she now worries for her daughter, Charlotte Dale, 34, a part-time estate agent in southwest London. “Generally things seem more dangerous for women even though they have mobile phones. Whereas in the past men acted in isolation — now they receive validation and encouragement on the internet,” Lewis says.

The estate agent from Essex, who was tortured for two hours, says she wants to see a national campaign to draw attention to the dangers: “Some estate agents seem to care more about protecting assets, with money laundering checks etc, than they do about protecting their staff. This has to change.”

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hollyhomburg · 1 year ago

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It sucks when I decide not to confide in you guys because honestly today was HELL and I cannot go into it without going several pages into my current lore, but BASICALLY

My grandparents are getting kicked out from the house they’ve lived in for 60+ years, primarily because an uncle who is not one of their children is worried about the housing market taking a downturn and not getting his money. The house is a 3.4 million dollar house, it’s next door to my little cabin. This uncle is very well off and in his retirement, when he purchased the house he signed a legal document (notarized by lawyer) that my grandparents could live there for the rest of their lives.

However last month, he sent an email stating that he was kicking my grand parents out on the 5th of November. My mother and a lot of my aunts and uncles are very upset about this, mostly because of my grandmothers dementia- moving her into an unknown location would decrease her memory substantially. A lot of other people where angry on account of them having no place to stay (it’s been decided they’re going to stay with my uncle but at the time we didn’t know where), and because he gave two 91 year old people 30 days! To move 80+ years of their life! a few of my cousins started to chime in, and then my mother sent an email saying that this was not a conversation that anyone should be having but their seven kids and the conversation was moved to a private chat. My grandparents are supposed to move into our house eventually, but our basement apartment is just beginning renovation for them- we need a good year until it’s ready because we’re poor and can only afford to do it slowly and mostly on our own.

And then comes my sister, who has been externally close with this aunt and uncle. She has been mostly non-communicative about this until today, where she called up my mom to see if she could come visit this weekend- because my whole family- all like 70 of us - are banning together to help my grandparents pack up their lives. My mom started to vent to her- and my sister chewed her out for the e-mail saying It was uncalled for and basically took my aunt and uncles side in the whole situation. As well as Criticized her for being financially irresponsible and not having the basement done, blaming her for my grandparents predicament. My mom was /sobbing/ by the end of it. It took my brother and I like- 20 minutes to calm her down.

She then proceeded to call me 5 times before I picked up, and we had a hard conversation about it all, and when she point blank asked me if i thought she should come home this weekend and I told her that no, I didn’t, because our mom needs support not judgment and she’s going to feel her feelings no matter the facts and what we personally think is right, and if she can’t hold her tongue and be supportive to just my mom- then her being here would cause a lot more stress. And that No matter the situation with the rest of the family and what I personally think should happen- my top priority is my mom and getting her through these super tough weeks tbh, not even my grandparents well being, not my aunt and uncle, not even her at this moment.

She thanked me for being honest with her and we ended the call after she apologized for missing my birthday. Which I was honestly really hurt about but brushed it off because I am just too burnt out to care.

Then after we hung up she texted me this, and we had this conversation

And now I’m wondering if I went too far, if I was too mean, if it was bad of me to deny my sister the last chance to see my grandparents in their home. I don’t know, things have been so hard, I hate this, I hate feeling angry and resentful towards people I care about. I just feel like the saying “honesty without tact is cruelty” really applies to it because like, you can about what you’re feeling without it hurting the people you love. I also told my mom I didn’t like the email she sent out to the family- but I was able to do it in a way that didn’t make her sob. Ugh I just don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong and terrible and just ugghhhh I need to sleep

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scabopolis · 2 years ago

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It has been a mighty, mighty, minute since I've tried to host a fic writing challenge, but why not??? What's old is new again, and yadda yadda yadda. Announcing a new challenge: The Logan & Veronica: New Year, New Fic Writing Fest!

We’ll start writing in the first month of the year, and then posting the first week of February. New year! New fic!

Posting Dates: Wednesday, February 1, 2023 through Tuesday, February 7, 2023

Fic! Fan art! Manips! Playlists! Headcanons! Lists of fic recommendations! We want it all!

To kickoff the first year of this challenge, I thought it'd be fun if we take inspiration from some of the fandom's greatest hits, that is, fics with the most amount of kudos over on AO3.

Please note: I have picked key elements of some of the most kudos'd fics EVER (according to AO3) to inspire these prompts. If you want to do an actual, explicit remix of one of these fics, it's fandom best practice to reach out to the author in advance. Any questions about that distinction? Just send me an ask or a message!

Most importantly: tag everything #2023 LV New Year in the first five tags so all those who love these two idiots can see and track the content. You can also post in the 2023 LV New Year challenge category on AO3.

No time to create? Boy, do I have a suggestion for you! Sometimes fics considered "old" by the fandom can drop off the radar. Why not take the time this week to dole out kudos and/or comments to some older but much loved fics?

Canon divergence, fics inspired by universes you've already created, long one-shots, new multichapters that incorporate each plot - all fic writing formats that are completely on the table!

Day 1: Market Fic - inspired by "A Strange New Story Every Time" by gyzym - Farmer's market? Specialty food store? Mini-market? So many markets...so many possibilities.

Day 2: Non-Linear Storytelling - inspired by "Slipstream" by @cheshirecatstrut. - Any way of telling a story where the events are not told in complete chronological order.

Day 3: Hurt/Comfort and/or Domesticity inspired by "With Me" by @bryrosea and "Same Old Song" by @susanmichelin - You can treat these as two separate prompts, or, as both of these fics do in an expert manner, incorporate them together

Day 4: Epistolary inspired by "Three Emails Sent Across Continents (And Possible Five Text Messages)" by Care and "Wingspan" by @theawkwardterrier - Journals, letters, texts, etc. They can provide the full text or simply feature as one component.

Day 5: Lawyer!Veronica inspired by "A Better Claim" by @best-laid-plaids - She spent all that time and energy on getting that degree - it seems a shame we fic writers don't put it to good use!

Day 6: "I love a man in uniform" inspired by "Metal Under Tension" by @machawicket - Not saying it has to be a military uniform...though that option is, of course, there.

Day 7: s1 canon fix-it or s1 canon divergence inspired by "Sometimes" by @mysilverylining and "Time, Make it Go Faster or Just Rewind" by @kmd0107 - We're all in agreement that s1 is the most complete season of this show, correct? That doesn't mean that the what-if possibilities are in any way limited, though!

So, What are the rules? There aren't really any, but in summation:

Look at the prompts for each day.

Post them on tumblr or AO3.

Tag them (on Tumblr and/or AO3) with #2023 LV New Year and/or add to the AO3 collection.

So, 2! 4! 6! 8! reblog this post and then create!

#logan x veronica #logan echolls #veronica mars #lv fanfic #veronica mars fanfic #lv fanfic challenge #2023 lv new year

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heartbeatan · 1 year ago

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The Art of Revenge (Chapter 2)

Return to Chapter 1.

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Jungkook Fanfictions.

Return to One Nights Series.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 2

Two days ago, you walked in on Chris and Stephanie. You had spent the next day visiting your lawyer, who was a friend of yours from college, preparing a formal eviction notice for Chris, since you weren’t common law and your name was the only one on the deed. When you pulled up to the tiny curbside firm, it was clear by the unsurprised and sympathetic way she greeted you that she had heard the news. You visited a realtor, who was also a friend of yours, and it was clear she knew too. Word had obviously spread around your circle of friends. Nonetheless, she started the paperwork to put your home on the market - since you wanted nothing more than to escape the image of the deflowering of your kitchen. You also went about canceling everything you possibly could cancel about the wedding, pocketing every last cent that hadn’t been put towards the deposits.

By the late afternoon, you returned to the hotel room - not daring to stop by your house, knowing Chris would be there waiting for you. Instead, you looked to your phone again to find your email inbox ransacked, which could only mean one thing… the mothers had been informed. They had clearly received some sort of hint of infidelity, but had somehow warped themselves into a mindset that you were somehow responsible, and even more so irresponsible for not telling anyone where you were. Chris and Stephanie had clearly been yapping to get ahead of the scandal. It baffled you how two people who betrayed you would so shamelessly air their crimes to the whole damn town. It was yet another prompt to just power down your device. Last thing you needed was some bullshit lecture on how to save face by continuing to live a lie. There was some relief in your inbox, however. Your rapid STD test came back clean.

You sprawled your body across the bed, groaning as your sore muscles and joints stretched over the flat mattress. You were exhausted, and mindless - yet you also found yourself to be incredibly restless.

You were afraid of that moment - the moment when you stopped moving, and would once again be alone with your own thoughts. You feared your mind would be swarmed with the images of what you had seen in your kitchen, or would obsess over every little detail of your past that your paranoia could twist into signs of this affair. You didn’t know if it had been going on for weeks, months, or years, or if you had walked in on a one-night stand. But it didn’t really matter, your soul didn’t seem to care. Surprisingly, instead of thinking about them, all you could think about was Jungkook.

You had told him you would be up there in three days. It was at least a day's drive to get to him, and you had wanted time to get your break-up affairs in order before you made the long trek. But laying there, ignoring the list of things you still had to do, all you could think of was how you could escape. How he could help you escape.

You looked at your phone again, now noticing the condolence messages flooding your inbox from the effects of the town’s gossip line. You ignored them too, and pulled up Jungkook’s number.

You didn’t call him this time, you decided on a text.

Y/N: Is it alright if I come tomorrow instead of Friday? 8:49 PM JK: Of course. Text me when you’ve got an ETA. 8:49 PM

You hesitated about what to say next - unsure of how you were supposed to sign-off after you rescheduled your revenge dick appointment. You settled on a thumbs-up, and decided not to care if it was the wrong answer. You were supposed to be out of this Tinder-esq stage of your life, so you balked at the idea of diving right back in and learning the day's latest formalities. When Jungkook replied with a winky face, you felt the corner of your lips tug into a faint smile. It was strange… you were used to smiling everyday… but in the short past 26 hours you had spent miserable, you felt like you had forgotten how to. But somehow, a simple emoji from a man you hardly knew was breaking you back in.

You looked at the clock. It was already dark outside, and Jungkook was at least a fourteen hour drive away. The wise thing would be to go to sleep, and leave first thing in the morning. But again… nothing you were doing was wise. You were impulsive, and angry, and vengeful… and restless…

Without thinking much about it, you peeled yourself from your bed, padded your way into the bathroom to take a shower - and within the hour, you were packed up and checked out of your hotel room, on the highway north towards Jungkook’s remote town.

You drove through the night, and stopped early morning at a discount store in one of the passing villages. You didn’t have much with you - just the clothes on your back, and the bag of honeymoon lingerie which you had picked up on your way back home when you discovered the affair. It had been mocking you the whole ride with its no-return presence. Regardless, if your night with Jungkook was going to go as planned, clothes weren’t going to be a necessity, so you didn’t need much. You grabbed some $8 leggings, a few $3 tank tops, deodorant, toothbrush, hairbrush, razors, and underwear. You would have liked to grab something sexy, but there wasn’t much the discount bins offered in terms of intimates, and your bridal lingerie felt too perverse to wear.

As you rolled into the final hour of your trip, a mysterious feeling began to crawl through your system. All the negative energy from home and your relationships had been chasing you the whole way down the empty highway. But it was like those demons were blocked by an invisible salt line that guarded the border into Jungkook’s county. You were no longer angry, or bitter, or sad. You were… excited. Excited in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. Excited in a way that only the prospect of pure, uninhibited, no-strings attached sex could bring you. Like those first few times with that college fuckbuddy of yours - before you caught your agonizing feelings for him. In all these years, you hadn’t let yourself fantasize about Jungkook - even though deep down you wanted to. Thinking about him that way ironically felt like a betrayal to Stephanie. But now you could let those flood gates open. You wondered what kind of lover he was. Was he sweet? Rough? Both? Did he talk dirty? Have kinks? Did he like pleasuring women or did he use them like his personal fuck toy? What kinds of noises did he make when he slipped his cock into a woman? Did his body twitch and pulse when he came? As a person, he had always been such a mystery to you, and since Stephanie had never hooked up with him, he was a mystery as a lover as well - a mystery you were about to uncover. The purpose of fucking Jungkook was to leave Stephanie a jealous, spiteful mess on the floor, but it would be even more karmic if the man had the power to fuck you into forgetting she existed at all.

So, that’s how you found yourself parked on the shoulder of the highway, staring at your engagement photo, just thirty minutes away from Jungkook’s house.

you had another million missed calls, the most recent being from your step-mother. You hadn't heard a thing from your father, so you figured she was acting as his agent. He would be worried, you knew that, but he wasn't great at having difficult conversations, so you weren't surprised that she was the one calling you - but you were nonetheless disappointed. Before calling her back, you decided to check her last email to gauge where she currently stood.

It was a mistake...

She ranted about how you needed to forgive Chris, and how if you didn't, you would be expected to reimburse her and your father for all they had expended on your wedding - which was nothing... She must've been referring to hotel deposits and her dress.

"Bitch," you muttered into the car, just as a truck whizzed by you on the highway. You scrolled through a few more notifications, assessing their general context by the first few paragraphs which were visible from the homepage, but ultimately decided that you would continue to ice everyone out for a few more days. Then you came to the winky face...

Jungkook.

You hadn't spoken to him since the rescheduling the night before. That was probably stupid on your part. He likely expected you to arrive early evening, but since you had impulsively decided to drive through the night without sending word, you were now only thirty-minutes away, and he might not even be home, nonetheless awake.

You typed out a simple message, letting him know how close you were, then hovered over the send button as you questioned whether or not you should send it. You thought about finding another motel room and just holding up there until the afternoon – maybe take a well needed nap. You also thought again about just turning around and leaving this place and Jungkook all together.

Your phone sprang to life, as Chris' name popped onto the screen with an incoming call. You sighed, forgetting about your Jungkook dilemma, now focusing on the should-I-finally-talk-to-Chris crisis. What could he possibly say? Was he going to leave you for Stephanie, or was he going to try to make this right? How could he even begin to make this right? Did you want him to make it right? Had you worked out what you wanted to say to him?

After the fourth ring, you swiped the "pick-up" button, and put the phone to your ear. You didn't greet him, but you didn't really need to, because Chris' voice immediately began to call to you through the receiver.

"Y/N? Y/N are you there?" he asked repeatedly, his voice strained and remorseful.

Good, you thought. You were happy to hear his agony. Regardless, you felt the urge to hang right back up, figuring things could only go downhill from there. But you didn’t. Instead, you waited silently on the other end, feeling your breath begin to lengthen and tighten in a seething hiss. You didn't want to say anything, didn't want him to have the privilege of hearing your voice, but as he pleaded and begged for you to give him some indication you were listening, you eventually responded.

"I'm here."

"Babe, I'm so sorry! Please come home, I can explain everything."

You rolled your eyes. What on earth was there to be explained? He had sex with another woman, just a month away from your wedding. "You can explain now. You have 3 minutes."

He choked, a clear sign that he wasn't prepared to actually explain anything. "Please, we should talk face to face. I'll come to you, just tell me where you are - everyone is so worried about you."

You then felt a new rage bubble up inside. The only reason why “everyone was worried” was because Chris had the nerve to spread your humiliation across town before you even had the chance to process it. You swallowed, trying to keep your words from escaping your lips in screams.

"Exactly why is everyone worried about me, Chris?"

He paused again, hearing the venom in your voice, and realizing he was treading into dangerous territory he hadn't anticipated. "Because, um, they know you're upset."

"And how would they know I was upset, Chris? I certainly didn't tell anybody that you were caught fucking my best friend."

"I… we… We were just worried about you, that's all. We were calling around, trying to find out where you had gone so we knew you were all right.”

You felt your face heat. We. He was talking about him and Stephanie as a "we" now? On top of that, he was seriously suggesting you would become "unsafe" because of them? Like they had that sort of power over you? You were utterly insulted by the implication. If you could've teleported yourself in front of them both right then, you would show them exactly how "unsafe" you could become. But you couldn't...

You looked at your surroundings, appreciating the remote, frontier feelings you got from the old, tall green trees and rocky landscape before you. You were miles away from Chris, and Stephanie, and your stepmother, and everyone who either pitied you or blamed you. You were not far from a man whom you hardly knew, but somehow you knew he wouldn’t pigeonhole you into either of those categories... He just wanted to fuck - that thought made you smile and caused a naughty tingle to reverberate through your guts.

"Please, Y/N," Chris pleaded with you. "I love you. I want to marry you. This was just a stupid mistake. It only happened once and it'll never happen again, I swear. Just come home, and I'll answer any questions you have."

You placed the phone on the dashboard and set it to speaker. You then began shuffling through your bag to find your emergency makeup products. "I'm not coming home,” you announced. “I'm up north."

"Why?" he asked. The confusion in his voice painted a clear picture in your mind of the stupid look he currently had on his face.

"I'm visiting Jungkook. You remember him. Your brother's friend."

"Your..." he stuttered again. He was seriously confused now. That name would have been the last thing he'd have expected to hear. "Why are you visiting him?"

You flipped down the mirror and began inspecting yourself, applying a light stain to your lips. With your limited supplies, there wasn’t much else you could correct about your appearance, but pretending to fix yourself up felt like something a powerful, cold-hearted seductress in a movie would do, and that was the confidence you craved right then.

"Because," you chirped as you gently wiped away the errant line of your lip colour, "I called him."

The phone went silent, and you smiled menacingly as you imagined how tortured Chris was becoming.

He started to say one thing, then stopped, then tried to ask something else, then stopped, until finally he settled on asking simply, "Why him?"

You considered telling him the real reason: to get back at Stephanie. But you decided since Jungkook was also irritating Chris, you wanted to twist the dagger.

"I just really needed someone to talk to,” your tone was condescending, and laced with implication – just enough for Chris to understand that sex was a possibility, but enough nuance to drive him crazy wondering if you were really going to fuck another man.

“I didn’t think you two were friends,” Chris said after a beat.

“Well, it didn’t take a lot of convincing on his part. I guess he wants to get to know me better.”

The moment you said it, your insides began to flutter. You and Jungkook were going to get to know each other better – you were just going to get to know each other better in the biblical sense. The notion somehow granted you a modicum of relief from your anger, and replaced the gap with erotic excitement. You were now bored of this conversation with Chris, and you knew now that you weren’t going to be checking into another motel room.

“Please, Y/N, don’t do this,” Chris spoke slow, and his voice shook. You were impressed that he wasn’t angry, and glad that he was hurting. “We can fix this. I will do anything. I love you. Please just come home.”

You took a deep inhale, then exhaled long and slow. You really had no idea what you should be doing. Was turning the car around and hearing Chris out the "right thing to do?" Was throwing away your two-year relationship too rash? Was fucking another man for revenge too ruthless and reckless? You really didn’t know the answer to what you should do – but you did know what you wanted to do…

“Goodbye, Chris,” you said, clicking the end call button. Before Chris had the chance to call you back, you dialed Jungkook’s number, and were pleased when he picked up on the second ring.

“You on the road?” he asked, not bothering with the formality of a hello.

“I drove all night,” you announced without a hint of remorse. “I’m half an hour away.”

“Mm,” Jungkook hummed in amusement, and you weren’t quite sure what it meant.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all. It’s a welcomed surprise.”

You bit your lip, unsure if he was flirting with you or pacifying you. “I just couldn’t sleep last night. I know, I seem insane.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want. I’m just… glad what you’re doing is working out in my favour.”

You bit harder on your lip as the corner of your mouth fought to wind up into a grin. He was definitely flirting, and it felt pretty damn good.

“Here I thought it was you who was doing me a favour.”

“Ha!” he laughed, and a part of you wished you were there to witness it. You hadn’t seen a lot of his smile over the years – but on the rare occasions that you did, you found it to be infectious. “Well… we haven’t done anything yet. So, how about you get here, and we can sort out whose reaping the greater benefits.”

Your face and shoulders scrunched as you felt the onset of a giddy blush. “Sure. I turn left at the mill, right?”

“Yeah. You want me to meet you so you don’t get lost?”

“No, no. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Alright. Call me if you need help and I’ll come find you.”

“Thanks,” you said, then paused as you once again wondered how to end your communications with this man. “See you soon then I guess.”

“Yeah. I look forward to, uh... seeing you,” he responded, rounding the words with salacious implication. Then he hung up.

You reached into your shopping bag for your deodorant, some wipes, toothbrush, and one of your new tank tops – desiring a costume change and a little freshening up in case you got to Jungkook’s house and things got hot and heavy quickly. Your phone rang a few more times while you did, and you ignored it. You didn’t care who was calling or what they had to say. You also didn’t care that you had flashed a pick-up truck full of redneck frat boys as you switched out your top.

Quickly enough, you were back on the road, powering along the highway feeling refreshed in every sense. Your bitterness was gone, your libido was in full swing, and your pits no longer smelled like you had spent 14 hours in a car.

The road into Jungkook’s house was basically a narrow, dirt path, and you had to drive rather slowly to avoid the potholes and forest debris – but it was difficult to keep a slow pace, since your heart was pounding a mile faster with each passing minute. You were relieved when you recognized the turn into his hidden driveway, and you felt your knuckles relax over the steering wheel as your car crested into the clearing, and his cabin-esq house came into view. You crawled the car into what looked like a parking space. You wanted to take another minute, or two, or twenty, to sit in your car and hype yourself up to just get out. But Jungkook would surely know you were there already. The front of his vaulted home was mostly comprised of floor to ceiling windows, which looked out over the lawn and valley far beyond the tree line. You already looked insane for calling him, propositioning him, then driving through the night – you didn’t need to become another untouchably sweaty mess while you physically and emotionally melted down in his driveway under the hot spring sun. So, you grabbed your shopping bag, which you had stuff with all your present belongings, exited the car, and walked up to his front door.

You stood on the stoop, staring at the door as you took another heavy breath, then reached forward to ring the bell. The house was quiet from inside for a long time, making you worry he was going to force you to ring the bell again. But eventually, you heard the soft padding of movement as someone crossed the floor towards the front door. You heard the click of the doorknob, the snap of the sticky weatherstripping as the door broke away from the frame, and then… he was there.

Jungkook, standing tall and solid before you, with every ounce of his sex appeal on display. He had changed in so many ways since the last time you saw him. His face was sharper and more masculine. His arm which was once covered in dainty tattoos was now covered from wrist to shoulder in an array of heavy ink and colour. He was bigger… everywhere. The simple act of holding his door open put his solid biceps and the veins that traced his forearms on full display. His neck was thicker, and the solid plains of his chest were noticeable beneath his plain white t-shirt. Hell, it was possible he even grew taller – you felt tiny in his shadow. His hair was longer than you had seen it before – almost shoulder length, the top half held back in the epitome of an artist’s bun, aside from long strands which acted as bangs to fall carelessly into his eyes.

You stopped breathing for a millisecond. Not long ago you thought you were nearly invisible to this man. Yet, in your time of need, this Adonis had invited you of all people to his home and promised you an exchange of unadulterated pleasure.

He looked you over, just as you looked him over – but his face gave away nothing, whereas yours you were sure gave away everything. He may have changed in many ways since the last time you saw him, but his impassive, signature nonchalance was still very much present. Or was it? For just a brief moment, your eyes locked, and you thought you saw heat burning behind his cool-guy visage. You really hoped that’s what you were seeing. Fucking this man would be great, you were sure, but being truly desired by him would be fucking magnificent.

After a silent moment between you - one you were surprised wasn’t at all awkward - he stepped aside, making way for you to enter his home. Without a word between you, you stepped across the threshold, and into the foyer as Jungkook closed the door behind you.

Go to Chapter 3.

#bts smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jjk x y/n

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gradstudentdrone · 2 months ago

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When grief hits unexpectedly

I am at a conference this week, where a book that I co-wrote was a finalist for an award and got an honourable mention. The book itself took forever to write, for a variety of different reasons - being on the job market, getting pregnant, new immigration policies, getting pregnant again, COVID...the list goes on. And the review process was rocky in that the Press sent the book to five reviewers, one of whom was somewhat hostile in that the reviewer thought my co-authors and I were being too critical of Canada's immigration policies (lol, ok, bro).

So it was great to get the book recognized and fun to celebrate and have dinner with friends in a cute restaurant.

Yet as I sit here today, trying to plan my day for the conference, I feel a wave of loss hitting me, a wave so torrential that I have to stamp it down - hard - because it would be difficult for me to get on with my day (and get on with my professional obligations during this conference) if I ride the wave out.

Because you know who would've been thrilled about the book getting recognized, who would brag about it to everyone (in an embarrassing dad way)? My dad.

Sometimes, I feel that my dad was too extra. Some examples?

A few months ago, he went to a reunion of his classmates at the University of the Philippines College of Law. One of his classmates held a prominent position in the Department of Labour, and my dad gave him a copy of my other book, on migrant domestic workers' activism. His friend politely thanked him for the book and mentioned that he would read it, and have people in his department read it too.

When said book first received a book contract, and won a 'best dissertation award/First Book Prize,' my dad emailed a newspaper columnist whose writings he followed and told them about my work (!), even sending excerpts. The columnist responded kindly and said they'd look at my work.

When planning my wedding with MOTL, and we were figuring out what giveaways to give, my dad - in utter seriousness - said that we should buy every single guest a copy of the first book I co-edited. I, of course, said no.

In all of these instances, I did what children always do: I shake my head, I internally groan, and I say, "papa, please don't." I felt embarrassed because I didn't want such a huge fuss to be made. In truth, I also wanted my dad to calm down. I'm proud, too, about my accomplishments, but can we not celebrate quietly?

Now, I realize in retrospect that part of my dad's excitement stemmed from seeing me do things that, in a different life, he might have done. You see, in his twenties, my dad received a full scholarship to do his PhD in Political Science at Harvard. Being a kid from the Philippines, this was a big deal. But because of the fact that he was already with my mom, and also because he truly loved the study and practice of law, he opted instead to be a lawyer. This was a career he loved - almost to the exclusion of everything else - and so it was the right choice for him.

But I do think seeing me do graduate work in Political Science, and then eventually become a professor in this field, was exciting for my dad. My dad was a beautiful writer, was an intensely philosophical and thoughtful, and had always told me that one of his dreams for the future was to translate works of Political Theory in Tagalog. So my journey now resembled what his journey might have been.

Anyway, here is a picture of my dad, front and centre, at my book launch last November. Now, more than ever, I am feeling the intensity of my loss.

#grief diaries #day thirty seven #dealing with grief #academia

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ingek73 · 7 months ago

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Courtier demanded assurance king could not be prosecuted under new Welsh law

Palace official secured assurance under archaic custom that requires UK parliaments to get consent of monarch to draft bills

Rob Evans, Severin Carrell and David Pegg

Thu 11 Apr 2024 06.00 CESTShare

Royal courtiers privately put pressure on the Welsh government to ensure that King Charles could not be prosecuted for rural crimes under a new law that ministers had drawn up, documents reveal.

The elected minister in the Welsh government who is its chief legal adviser was “not happy” that the king was to be given the special exemption from prosecution but agreed to it last year.

A Buckingham Palace official phoned the Welsh government to secure the assurance under an archaic custom that requires UK parliaments to obtain the consent of the monarch to draft bills before they can be implemented.

Under the mechanism, ministers notify the royal family of specific clauses in draft laws that may affect their personal wealth, their private property or their public functions. The ministers ask the monarch to approve the laws before they can be passed.

Investigations by the Guardian have shown that the late queen used her privileged access to draft legislation to secure changes that protected her private interests or reflected her opinions. In one recent example, her lawyers lobbied Scottish ministers in 2021 to change a draft law to exempt her private land from a major initiative to cut carbon emissions.

The use of the consent mechanism has been criticised as “undemocratic”. It has been in force in Westminster since the 1700s and has been extended to the Scottish and Welsh parliaments.

During the queen’s 70-year reign, she vetted more than 1,000 draft laws before they were approved by elected politicians. Those included bills that affected the her personal property such as her privately owned estates in Balmoral and Sandringham.

The mechanism has continued seamlessly into the reign of Charles. Ministers in Westminster, Scotland and Wales have been required to obtain his consent to 20 laws since he came to the throne in September 2022.

Buckingham Palace refused to say whether the king had asked for any changes to these laws before approving them. One was a bill that was formulated by the Welsh government to reform agricultural practices.

On 1 June last year, the Welsh government noted in an internal memo that its lawyers “had been contacted by Buckingham Palace officials who have sought an assurance that Welsh ministers will take into account conventions regarding prosecuting the crown when making regulations under this bill”.

In an email the following day, Welsh officials noted that Mick Antoniw, the Welsh government’s counsel general – the equivalent of the attorney general in Westminster – was “not happy with the exclusion”. However, he “recognises the ongoing convention and therefore” agreed to it.

This was a reference to an ill-defined convention under which criminal and civil proceedings cannot be brought against the monarch as head of state. The monarch has been given personal immunity from swathes of British law, ranging from animal welfare to workers’ rights.

However, an investigation by the Guardian has previously highlighted the extent to which this practice gives the monarch immunity for his conduct as a private citizen, affording protection to the king’s privately owned assets and estates.

More than 30 laws stipulate, for example, that police are barred from entering the privately owned Balmoral and Sandringham estates without the king’s permission to investigate possible crimes, including wildlife offences and environmental pollution. No other private landowner in the country is given such legal immunity.

In the case of last year’s Agriculture (Wales) Act, the monarch was exempted from regulations relating to the marketing of agricultural products, the disposal of carcasses and the disclosure of information to the Welsh state. Police are also unable to gain automatic entry to the king’s private property portfolio under that part of the act.skip past newsletter promotion

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According to Buckingham Palace, the royal household rang the Welsh government to ensure that “as a matter of legal correctness” the monarch could not be prosecuted under the act.

A palace spokesperson said the convention had to be maintained as the draft act contained a particular type of legislation that would not rule out the possibility of a prosecution.

The spokesperson added: “At no point were any objections raised by the Welsh government, either formally or informally.”

A Welsh government spokesperson said: “The immunity of the monarch from prosecution is a long-established principle.” They declined to comment further.

Charles approved the bill on 20 June 2023, according to the documents released under the Freedom of Information Act. The documents do not specify which of his properties would be affected by this act.

Other laws which have been screened by Charles under the consent mechanism include legislation relating to the rents that UK landowners can charge mobile phone companies for putting up masts on their land and the management of Scottish private trusts. Trusts are widely used by the Windsors and can help the rich to shield their assets from public scrutiny or tax.

Charles gave his permission to a Scottish act that froze the rents for tenants in private properties and a Westminster act that required landlords to produce an electrical certificate in their rented homes. Charles rents out more than 300 homes across his Balmoral and Sandringham estates.

The palace spokesperson said: “King’s consent is a parliamentary process and His Majesty has granted consent on each occasion it has been requested by government.”

#abolish the monarchy #kings concent #queens consent #king charles III #wales

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 1 year ago

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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

August 2, 2023

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

AUG 3, 2023

There have been more developments today surrounding yesterday’s indictment of former president Trump for conspiring to defraud the United States, conspiring to disenfranchise voters, and conspiring and attempting to obstruct an official proceeding as he tried to overturn the results of the 2020 election and install himself in office over the wishes of the American people.

Observers today called out the part of the indictment that describes how Trump and Co-Conspirator 4, who appears to be Jeffrey Clark, the man Trump wanted to make attorney general, intended to use the military to quell any protests against Trump’s overturning of the election results. When warned that staying in power would lead to “riots in every major city in the United States,” Co-Conspirator 4 replied, “Well…that’s why there’s an Insurrection Act.”

The Insurrection Act of 1807 permits the president to use the military to enforce domestic laws, invoking martial law. Trump’s allies urged him to do just that to stay in power. Fears that Trump might do such a thing were strong enough that on January 3, 2021, all 10 living former defense secretaries signed a Washington Post op-ed warning that “[e]fforts to involve the U.S. armed forces in resolving election disputes would take us into dangerous, unlawful and unconstitutional territory.”

They put their colleagues on notice: “Civilian and military officials who direct or carry out such measures would be accountable, including potentially facing criminal penalties, for the grave consequences of their actions on our republic.” Josh Marshall at Talking Points Memo recalled today that military leaders told Congress they were reluctant to respond to the violence at the Capitol out of concern about how Trump might use the military under the Insurrection Act.

Political pollster Tom Bonier wrote: “I understand Trump fatigue, but it feels like the president and his advisors preparing to use the military to quash protests against his planned coup should be bigger news. Especially when that same guy is in the midst of a somewhat credible comeback effort.”

On The Beat tonight, Ari Melber connected Trump Co-Conspirator John Eastman to Senator Ted Cruz (R-TX). Just before midnight on January 6, 2021, after the attack on the U.S. Capitol, Eastman wrote to Pence’s lawyer to beg him to get Pence to adjourn Congress “for 10 days to allow the legislatures to finish their investigations, as well as to allow a full forensic audit of the massive amount of illegal activity that has occurred here.” On the floor of the Senate at about the same time, Cruz, who voted against certification, used very similar language when he called for “a ten-day emergency audit.”

An email sent by Co-Conspirator 6, the political consultant, matches one sent from Boris Epshteyn to Trump lawyer Rudy Giuliani, suggesting that Epshteyn is Co-Conspirator 6. The Russian-born Epshteyn has been with Trump’s political organization since 2016 and was involved in organizing the slates of false electors in 2020. Along with political consultant Steve Bannon, Epshteyn created a cryptocurrency called “$FJB, which officially stands for “Freedom. Jobs. Business.” but which they marketed to Trump loyalists as “F*ck Joe Biden.” By February 2023, Nikki McCann Ramirez reported in Rolling Stone that the currency had lost 95% of its value.

Since the indictment became public, Trump loyalists have insisted that the Department of Justice is attacking Trump’s First Amendment rights to free speech. Indeed, if Giuliani’s unhinged appearance on Newsmax last night is any indication, it appears that has been their strategy all along. Aside from the obvious limit that the First Amendment does not cover criminal behavior, the grand jury sidestepped this issue by acknowledging that Trump had a right to lie about his election loss. It indicted him for unlawfully trying to obstruct an official proceeding and to disenfranchise voters.

Today, Trump’s former attorney general William Barr dismissed the idea that the indictment is an attack on Trump’s First Amendment rights. Barr told CNN’s Kaitlan Collins: “As the indictment says, they're not attacking his First Amendment right. He can say whatever he wants. He can even lie. He can even tell people that the election was stolen when he knew better. But that does not protect you from entering into a conspiracy. All conspiracies involve speech. And all fraud involves speech. Free speech doesn't give you the right to engage in a fraudulent conspiracy.”

Rudy Giuliani has his own troubles in the news today, unrelated to the attempt to overturn the results of the 2020 election. His former assistant Noelle Dunphy is suing him for sexual harassment and abuse, and new transcripts filed in the New York Supreme Court of Giuliani’s own words reveal disturbing fantasies of sexual domination that are unlikely to help his reputation. (Historian Kevin Kruse retweeted part of the transcript with the words, “Goodbye, lunch.”)

The chaos in the country’s political leaders comes with a financial cost. According to Fitch Ratings Inc., a credit-rating agency, the national instability caused by “a steady deterioration in standards of governance over the last 20 years” has damaged confidence in the country’s fiscal management. Yesterday it downgraded the United States of America’s long-term credit rating for the second time in U.S. history.

Fitch cited “repeated debt-limit political standoffs and last-minute resolutions,” “a complex budgeting process,” and “several economic shocks as well as tax cuts and new spending initiatives” for its downgrade. The New York Times warned that the downgrade is “another sign that Wall Street is worried about political chaos, including brinkmanship over the debt limit that is becoming entrenched in Washington.”

The timing of the downgrade made little sense economically, as U.S. economic growth is strong enough that the Bank of America today walked back earlier warnings of a recession. Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen noted that the key factors on which Fitch based its downgrade had started in 2018 and called the downgrade “arbitrary.” The editorial board of the Washington Post called the timing “bizarre.” But the timing makes more sense in the context of the fact that House Republicans could not pass 11 of 12 necessary appropriations bills before leaving for their August recess.

The White House said it “strongly disagree[d]” with the decision to downgrade the U.S. credit rating, noting that the ratings model Fitch used declined under Trump before rebounding under Biden, and saying “it defies reality to downgrade the United States at a moment when President Biden has delivered the strongest recovery of any major economy in the world.” But it did agree that “extremism by Republican officials—from cheerleading default, to undermining governance and democracy, to seeking to extend deficit-busting tax giveaways for the wealthy and corporations—is a continued threat to our economy.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Trump indictment #political #Letters From An American #Heather Cox Richardson #conspiracy #Trump Indictment #co-conspirators

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