#freedom farmers

[matchamiko]

lol neuvillette just sucking ur nipples or smth is enough to have u going a bit insane right??? RIGHT????

Giggling so hard rn

Warnings: breast worship/play, dry humping, mentions of masturbation, mentions of penetrative sex; previously established relationship.

If there’s one thing Neuvillette is, it’s thorough. You ask him about one of his trials after he returns from the Opera Eclipse, and he’s talking for hours about every piece of evidence in the case; you shyly ask him to brush your hair and he’s producing several combs and brushes and an oil to massage your scalp; he decides to take you on what humans call a date, and you’re trekking through the purple fields in the countryside to the most darling little picnic spot and dining on pastries until dusk, and then returning to the city to stroll about the fountains and gardens arm in arm with the promise of a mightily thorough kiss at the end.

And he’s no different when playing your body like a fiddle. He's got you folded into his lap, office door locked, blinds only half drawn but there's no danger of anyone looking in, not when he's so wrapped around you that it's hard to seen even a glimpse of your bare skin. It started as a visit for tea, the leaves you brought from your village in the Vale fresh and still warm from being dried over a fire, chatting idly in the way you two did that Neuvillette found so refreshing and simple. Then it led to you shyly asking for a kiss, having missed him so dearly and so wantonly, shown in the way you gripped his lapels and leaned further into him with a questioning sigh and an answered grunt. And now, you're half dressed spread over his thick thighs, his coat strewn next to the two of you and his gloves somewhere with it.

"Let me taste you," he murmurs against the column of your throat, hands running up the length of your back and down again, squeezing your hips into a dizzying grind. Your breasts press deliciously against the cotton of his shirt, nipples slipping and rubbing over his chest and every time you shudder with pleasure, Neuvillette basks in the way you arch harder into him like a cat. You feel wonderful, writhing over his groin and trying not to let your darkest desires overtake you like you so often did. The precious little tea farmer he'd befriended and then courted and then decidedly and silently pledged himself to; you're full of dirty secrets and filthy wants that has him spiralling into territories he'd never even thought about before. And your tits were one of them, to put it frankly.

He's fucked you before, numerous times, to your hearts content and more often than not, to your dictation and command. It wasn't surprising that your precious Iudex wasn't particularly well versed in human seduction, and you bravely stood up to the task you had completely made up, of showing him everything you desired and introducing him to everything he desired. But today, in the secrecy of his office, the knowledge that just outside the doors, people mill about and wait for an appointment with him; Neuvillette steps away from his duties and demands the feel of your supple skin against his teeth.

"I admit," a hand grasps the fat of your breast, squeezing roughly with the whoreish rhythm you have going on with your hips, "I've been thinking often about having you like this, desperate and desiring me all from the touch I give you here," fingers pluck at your nipple before he dips his head and takes it into his mouth. He's done this before, too many times to count, but with him being fully dressed and you an absolute mess in his lap; it feels different, raw and unfiltered in the wavering sanctity of his office. You can feel Neuvillette's tongue flattening over your nipple, swirling and curling like he does between your legs and it sends you arching into him, further into his reclined figure and deeper into his lap. A dizzying moan leaves you chest when you feel the hot, hard press of his cock through his trousers, confined in such a way that it's mind numbing when you grind against it. He pulls back for a second, looking up at you with hair strewn about his face, cheeks red and ears redder, panting hot and wet against your skin.

"Don't stop, please," he doesn't care for your politeness, doesn't care for your request, doing as he pleases with your body; one hand gripping your bottom and urging you to grind against him, and the other grasping meanly at your tit. Neuvillette seems positively ravenous this afternoon, though it should have been obvious in the way he allowed you to push him over to the settee and mount him without asking.

"I'm plagued with thoughts of you during matters that I should be attending to, important matters that garner my fullest attention and yet -," he suckles a bruise into the swell of your breast, held firm by his hands, squishing them together and nuzzling into the crevice between, breathing deeply enough to shudder, "All I can think about is you, what I want to do to you the next time we are alone, the next time you allow me to have you in such undignified ways," you're shaking when he regains his focus and takes your nipple into his mouth, tugging and nipping and gnawing like he does on his bottom lip when he's concentrating, suckling hard before letting go with a pop - allowing you to take a gasping breath and to look down at how positively enthralled he is at he taste of your doughy flesh,

"You don't need to be so formal while you're playing with my tits Neuvillette," you've always been more straight forward, more brash and crude, than him; having grown up in the countryside, in another nation, a whole other life to the one he leads. He leaves a wet trail from his tongue over your nipple, catching it between his sharp teeth and tugging enough to make you whine lowly, "I - can't stop thinking about you too, 'specially when I'm on my own," the implication is implicit but Neuvillette surges up into you, hips strong and knocking into yours with a grunt. He's filled suddenly with images of you writhing in your bed, hand stuffed between your thighs, fingers wet and slick in your cunt - the same he can feel pulsing and purring over his lap.

"Tonight, I've cleared my last appointment so I can spend it with you," he gasps, lips swollen from their assault on your breasts, eyes unfocused and pupils blown wide with want "After supper, after I spoil you like I have promised; you are showing me everything you do when you are alone and desperate for me,"

[pureangel444]

From the dusty mesa, her looming shadow grows. Hidden in the branches of the poison creosote.

[justskyla-art]

so I've gotten back into stardew valley hell (I literally have over 420 hours plugged into this game across all the saves I've played (3)) and..

yeah... i made a farmer oc when me and my friends were obsessed with co-op... there is no saving me...

...and i also realized how much i liked elliott.. and you know how things go...

yeah.... i'm not normal about them...

[the-voice-of-night-vale]

whatever ur electoral decision is. can we PLEASE stop pretending america is a democracy. it is, and has always been, a farse of a democracy at best. the electoral college? the supreme court? anyone?? i remember finding those things distinctly undemocratic in middle school.

saying that 'we're choosing between fascism and democracy' is just patently untrue and frankly disrespectful to the vulnerable people who have been harmed by the authoritarian state even (and in some cases ESPECIALLY) under democrats.

(and before you say, "okay, fascism vs worse fascism" please take a moment and think about how fucking insane that is.)

[awesome-casuallyfamouscollector]

This photo contains the answer to why Ukrainians will protect their freedom, and Russian imperialists will lose  the war: A peasant plants sunflower in his garden between the damaged Russian tank and its turret in the village of Velyka Dymerka, Kyiv region, Ukraine, Wednesday, May 17, 2023. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky)

[quovadisamerica]

[shawnshawcowboy]

Oklahoma sunset

[xtruss]

What Happened When a Fearless Group of Mississippi Sharecroppers Founded Their Own City

Strike City was born after one small community left the plantation to live on their own terms

— September 11, 2023 | NOVA—BPS

A tin sign demarcated the boundary of Strike City just outside Leland, Mississippi. Photo by Charlie Steiner

In 1965 in the Mississippi Delta, things were not all that different than they had been 100 years earlier. Cotton was still King—and somebody needed to pick it. After the abolition of slavery, much of the labor for the region’s cotton economy was provided by Black sharecroppers, who were not technically enslaved, but operated in much the same way: working the fields of white plantation owners for essentially no profit. To make matters worse, by 1965, mechanized agriculture began to push sharecroppers out of what little employment they had. Many in the Delta had reached their breaking point.

In April of that year, following months of organizing, 45 local farm workers founded the Mississippi Freedom Labor Union. The MFLU’s platform included demands for a minimum wage, eight-hour workdays, medical coverage and an end to plantation work for children under the age of 16, whose educations were severely compromised by the sharecropping system. Within weeks of its founding, strikes under the MFLU banner began to spread across the Delta.

Five miles outside the small town of Leland, Mississippi, a group of Black Tenant Farmers led by John Henry Sylvester voted to go on strike. Sylvester, a tractor driver and mechanic at the A.L. Andrews Plantation, wanted fair treatment and prospects for a better future for his family. “I don’t want my children to grow up dumb like I did,” he told a reporter, with characteristic humility. In fact it was Sylvester’s organizational prowess and vision that gave the strikers direction and resolve. They would need both. The Andrews workers were immediately evicted from their homes. Undeterred, they moved their families to a local building owned by a Baptist Educational Association, but were eventually evicted there as well.

After two months of striking, and now facing homelessness for a second time, the strikers made a bold move. With just 13 donated tents, the strikers bought five acres of land from a local Black Farmer and decided that they would remain there, on strike, for as long as it took. Strike City was born. Frank Smith was a Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee worker when he went to live with the strikers just outside Leland. “They wanted to stay within eyesight of the plantation,” said Smith, now Executive Director of the African American Civil War Memorial and Museum in Washington, D.C. “They were not scared.”

Life in Strike City was difficult. Not only did the strikers have to deal with one of Missississippi’s coldest winters in history, they also had to endure the periodic gunshots fired by white agitators over their tents at night. Yet the strikers were determined. “We ain’t going out of the state of Mississippi. We gonna stay right here, fighting for what is ours,” one of them told a documentary film team, who captured the strikers’ daily experience in a short film called “Strike City.” “We decided we wouldn’t run,” another assented. “If we run now, we always will be running.”

But the strikers knew that if their city was going to survive, they would need more resources. In an effort to secure federal grants from the federal government’s Office of Economic Opportunity, the strikers, led by Sylvester and Smith, journeyed all the way to Washington D.C. “We’re here because Washington seems to run on a different schedule,” Smith told congressmen, stressing the urgency of the situation and the group’s needs for funds. “We have to get started right away. When you live in a tent and people shoot at you at night and your kids can’t take a bath and your wife has no privacy, a month can be a long time, even a day…Kids can’t grow up in Strike City and have any kind of a chance.” In a symbolic demonstration of their plight, the strikers set up a row of tents across the street from the White House.

John Henry Sylvester, left, stands outside one of the tents strikers erected in Washington, D.C. in April 1966. Photo by Rowland Sherman

“It was a good, dramatic, in-your-face presentation,” Smith told American Experience, nearly 60 years after the strikers camped out. “It didn’t do much to shake anything out of the Congress of the United States or the President and his Cabinet. But it gave us a feeling that we’d done something to help ourselves.” The protestors returned home empty-handed. Nevertheless, the residents of Strike City had secured enough funds from a Chicago-based organization to begin the construction of permanent brick homes; and to provide local Black children with a literacy program, which was held in a wood-and-cinder-block community center they erected.

The long-term sustainability of Strike City, however, depended on the creation of a self-sufficient economy. Early on, Strike City residents had earned money by handcrafting nativity scenes, but this proved inadequate. Soon, Strike City residents were planning on constructing a brick factory that would provide employment and building material for the settlement’s expansion. But the $25,000 price tag of the project proved to be too much, and with no employment, many strikers began to drift away. Strike City never recovered.

Still, its direct impact was apparent when, in 1965, Mississippi schools reluctantly complied with the 1964 Civil Rights Act by offering a freedom-of-choice period in which children were purportedly allowed to register at any school of their choice. In reality, however, most Black parents were too afraid to send their children to all-white schools—except for the parents living at Strike City who had already radically declared their independence . Once Leland’s public schools were legally open to them, Strike City kids were the first ones to register. Their parents’ determination to give them a better life had already begun to pay dividends.

Smith recalled driving Strike City’s children to their first day of school in the fall of 1970. “I remember when I dropped them off, they jumped out and ran in, and I said, ‘They don't have a clue what they were getting themselves into.’ But you know kids are innocent and they’re always braver than we think they are. And they went in there like it was their schoolhouse. Like they belonged there like everybody else.”

[justashamwithwastedpotential]

OCCE - Sol Life in the Valley

Masterpost

Overview

So first there was Parker, which was fine. Inconvenient and a little scary, but dealing with someone around their age was manageable. Then there was a middle aged woman which made the panic increase, but Jade seemed to be fairly understanding of the situation and had been nothing but kind during the duration of her stay.

The hope was that by studying the portals, Skylar would be able to figure out how to reserve-engineer some sort of spell to send them back, but then when Lord Baron opened up yet another portal and a child fell through Skylar knew this needed to be stopped immediately. 

After making sure the kid was alright it was straight to Magnus because while they could cover up Parker and Jade as visiting friends and relatives to everyone (with the exception of Victor + the ASS trio) they didn't know what to do with the sudden appearance of a kid without any parents. 

Seeing that they were around the same age, Magnus asked Morgan to tend to their guest while he and Skylar talked to which Morgan agreed.

Morgan: Hey, you want to see something cool? Sol: ? Morgan: Pretty neat, right? Morgan: You're a mage too? When did you learn you had magic? Did you have to drink a gross potion? Are you training under someone? What have you been learning? Does your teacher let you invite other kids over? Magnus and Sky, *thinking*: Oh, yoba… Magnus: I'll report this to the ministry. Skylar: That's probably best.

After that, Skylar started dropping off Sol at the tower each morning before going to work on the farm.

Unsurprisingly really good at magic since it's mostly intuitive for her, but Magnus still insisted on learning the theory which Sol hated.

She does eventually become good friends with Morgan though which makes them feel a little less lonely since they can't always hang out with Vincent and Jas nor can they talk to them about magic the same way they can with Sol.

Morgan also likes learning about what Sol's world is like (even though it's a bit difficult for Sol to describe since some words don't really translate). In return they tell her about the monsters in the Valley, and how they hope humans and monsters can be friends in their world too.

Skylar definitely dotes on Sol far too much for Sol's liking though. It's not that Skylar is intentionally underestimating Sol's abilities, it's just that their grandparents were around 24/7 to take care of them so they don't understand just how independent a kid can be. And it's hard for Sol to convey this as well.

Jade and Sam are the ones who have to convince Sky to ease up a bit after assuring Skylar that Sol wouldn't spontaneously combust if left alone for more than 5 seconds which Sol was grateful for.

Since Jade recognizes how independent Sol is she generally leaves her to her own devices unless prompted for something. Sol does like to help Jade out around the farm when Skylar is busy though, and Jade often hums tunes to herself while they work which Sol finds soothing. Jade also tries to help with any homework Sol gets from Magnus, but even though one of her daughters is a mage, Jade herself doesn't really understand magical theory, so it isn't much she can do to help.

As for Parker, well… Parker is the last person anyone wants to leave a child with. I mean they're completely irresponsible and reckless, and there's no way they would ever be a good influence on someone's kid.

At least that's what Jade and Skylar think. 

But Parker comes from a big family with lots of younger cousins, so they're actually really good with kids and is probably the one Sol enjoys being around the most. (Not to mention they're the one with the most free time which makes it easier to keep an eye on Sol.) This rings especially true after Parker realizes Sol likes pokemon (although they aren't sure if Sol is being serious when she says she's from Pallet Town or if she just has an active imagination. They go with the former because, hey, magic dimension portal. Anything's possible.)

The two of them can usually be found exploring the forest together looking for forge and other treasures when Sol doesn't have lessons, playing games, or cooking things. Parker also tells stories to Sol sometimes which Sol enjoys as well. 

When it's not just the two of them, Sam, Vincent, (and sometimes Jas and Leo) can be found not far behind which usually leads to everyone ending out tuckered out by the end of the day.

Now Lance in particular is a fun one because if you were unaware, he's pretty much exactly like the Elite Four Lance (the regions' most powerful pokemon trainers) in Sol's world. And not only this, but Pokemon Lance is ALSO a child of the Viridian Forest, meaning he also has magic to a degree in Pokemon. So you can probably imagine Sol's enthusiasm upon meeting him in Stardew.

SVE Lance vs Elite Four Lance

Pink/Purple Spiky Hair vs Pink/Orange Spiky Hair

White High Collar Shirt vs Navy High Collar Shirt

Blue Cape vs Black/Red Cape

Gold Chain vs Silver Chain

Brown Belt vs Black Belt

Brown Shoes vs Black Shoes

SVE Lance is also Sparkly

Sol: *giggles* Sol: "Shiny"* Skylar: Shiny? Parker: *wheeze*

*Shiny pokemon are rare pokemon that have different colorations and “shine” or sparkle when encountered. Sol's Charizard is like this, so she's making a joke since the two have a similar style.

She does find it comforting to see a partially familiar face, and Lance does actually help with her magic assignments when he and Skylar aren't busy. (Even though this is rare for him) 

Overall, I think Sol would enjoy her time in the Valley and would still be happy if she had to stay there.

Adjustment Level : 9/10

Next Up: Jade Overview (Coming Soon)

[ink3rr]

Here's a katipunera I painted!

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

@detective-phck

[cash4agri]

Soluții Financiare Pentru Agricultura Modernă !

🌱 Ați auzit vreodată despre ANALIZA DE RISC FINANCIAR-CONTABIL ?

La Cash4Agri , înțelegem cât de esențial este să vă protejați afacerea agricolă de incertitudinile pieței .

[azuritevanguard]

[georgiasedify]

Here I am! Send me.

[nezuscribe]

what if instead of arranged!gojo it’s arranged!sukuna? he’s in his curse form, centuries ago, and the elders decide that the only thing that might appease him would be a marriage between him and their youngest sorcerer, you.

naive you who thought that this was just another state affairs issue, not realizing that they had signed you off as the bride of the infamous sorcerer killer.

it’s weeks of fighting, tears, screaming, until you’re eventually hauled away and thrown on the steps of his estate. they don’t bother with a wedding, just a piece of parchment that legally binds you and him together.

you don’t even see the curse for a while.

you try your best to get used to the bustle of activity, to life on the grounds, how to act as a “wife”, but you are yet to see the king of curses.

at some point, in between your day filled with boredom and nights filled with tears you decide that enough is enough. if he’s not even here, then he won’t even notice if you were to run away.

you pack some things, escaping through a window as you make your way through the woods near his estate, not daring to look behind you as you feel the twigs cutting your cheeks, heart palpitating so fast you fear you might just die.

and you think you’ve made it, finding an open pasture, most likely one of a nearby farmer, and let out a sigh of freedom.

if not for the massive force that jumps from behind you, holding your weak body to the ground.

you let out a hoarse scream, trying to breathe through the clawed hand wrapped around your throat.

your eyes widen in fear as you meet four, your chest heaving at the sly grin that makes its way onto his face.

“you have audacity, i’ll give you that,” the king of curses says with a chuckle, his baritone voice shaking your bones.

you try to turn your face away, wincing as he rests his weight even more on top of you.

“y-you…you don’t even want me,” you choke out, lips trembling as you take in the unreadable expression that takes over him.

his nails dig into your skin, threading blood.

“don’t stoop so low,” he growls, “to think that i’d follow you out of want,”

“i don’t like it when what’s mine goes missing.”

[violottie]

Boycott Israeli Dates this Ramadan, from Call 2 Action Now, 28/Feb/2024: (caption under images)

This Ramadan, don’t break your fast with an Israeli date. Stand in solidarity with the Palestinian people.

Israel’s genocidal assault on Palestinians in the Gaza Strip has now killed tens of thousands. Palestinians, facing down Israel’s catastrophic violence, call on us to boycott Israeli products in solidarity with their struggle for freedom.

Follow this quick guide to boycotting Israeli dates:

• Always check the label when buying dates. Don’t buy dates that are produced or packaged in Israel or its West Bank settlements. If no country of origin can be found on the box, check the retailer’s website.

• One of Israel’s largest exporters is called Hadiklaim. It sells dates in supermarkets under these names: King Solomon, Jordan River and Jordan River Bio-Top, as well as under the labels of supermarket chains. Check the box carefully, if the dates were “exported by Hadiklaim” – don’t buy them.

• Avoid these companies: Mehadrin, MTex, Edom, Carmel Agrexco, and Arava

#checkthelabel is not enough. Israel has been caught labelling their dates as ‘produce of Palestine’. Tesco, Sainsbury’s, Waitrose, M&S, Morrison, Aldi, Lidl and Asda package Israeli dates under their own labels!

Buy dates from Zaytoun, Alard, Yaffa, and Holy Land Date all support Palestinian Farmers. If you cannot get hold of these brands then buy dates from Tunisia, Saudi Arabia, Iran, Pakistan, UAE and Algeria.