#i dont support the death penalty i decided

[metamatar]

i have a question and sorry if it sounds incoherent. why is it so important to marxists to distinguish that marxism is not “moral” or “ideological”? i understand that marxism is grounded in historical materialism and that it aims to understand how existing structures and institutions function with the specific goal of abolishing them in favour of a marxist state, but when it comes to understanding how to move forward past capitalism, how can MLs claim that it’s entirely objective and scientific? isnt the fundamental purpose of marxism (abolishing the oppressor class and putting the proletariat in power) a subjective one, given that it to support that you need to believe that abolishing the oppressor class is desirable in the first place? how would ML “scientifically” help people decide where the line is drawn on subjects like the death penalty and incarceration if its committed by a communist party (given that the decision that the cost of killing/imprisoning people is worth the boon it would give in establishing a communist state is still based on subjective goals?)

i don't think modern marxists should claim they're not ideological. im sure some do, but imo the correct claim is marxism is not idealist. i think some of this confusion comes from a popperian view of science as "neutral" or "objective" outside of time. how the political economy affects the propagation of ideology and the process of science as practiced in reality is very standard marxist analysis now. some of the claim to objectivity is something that most people claim belongs to their favourite philosophical project see the rawlsian veil of ignorance in liberalism. marx is also writing in a world where theological and religious reasoning have a lot of primacy in philosophy and he is drawing a clean break from that by hewing to scientific characterisation of his methods.

idealism, in the kantian sense is a philosophy that argues that our ideals (about say, fairness, justice etc) inform how we organise society. marxism, as philosophical project develops in response to kant and hegel to argue that the political economic base, ie the productive relations of society actually inform superstructure of ideals. to quote marx in the preface to critique of political economy: "it is not the consciousness of men that determines their existence, but their social existence that determines their consciousness."

for clarity's sake the idea that changes in the mode of production (mostly due to technology) transform the relations of production which is the main driving force of history is historical materialism. the analysis of why existing structures and institutions must be abolished therefore has to be grounded in analysis where such structures are considered variously – unstable, internally contradictory etc. if you view historical materialism as true, your theory of change cannot be that you'll change the world because it is unfair (an idea.) you can view the world as unfair as a marxist and talk about it to propagate the necessity of your project but that doesn't actually give you a blueprint on how to change it.

capitalists are oppressors, but marxism doesn't view the problem in their oppressive or evil natures. capitalist economies demand even the most moral capitalist to exploit the proletariat. but! it is desirable to abolish there class relations not merely because they are unfair and exploitative but because these class relationships cause workers to develop class consciousness, recognise their power and abolish capitalism.

on your specific example, i don't think marxism can or should claim their are no moral dilemmas. historical materialism doesn't assert that there are no conflicting understandings of history. walter benjamin's theses on the philosophy of history is imo good reading here.

so i dont think your concern about why it's important for marxists to believe this makes sense, because this is what marxism is. if you don't find this convincing, you're not a marxist. you could be an anarchist, or a social democrat or a radical liberal.

[queer-here-and-in-fear]

ok. heres some moral hardlines ive decided on after this:

not all men are evil. saying they are is terf shit and exacerbates the problem. i know your angry, but yelling isnt the solution.

we have time to grieve and mourn, but not yell at each other about this. i dont care what they did, as long as their in with the movement to make this better now.

the solution isnt "stand to the side and let people feel the consequences of their actions" jesus fucking christ. its to do harm reduction. if that feels icky for you, SORRY.

your personal feelings are not and should not be policy. you can think every sexual predator should die without supporting the death penalty for it.

stop blaming each other. that doesnt help.

shame and wallowing and fear arent good motivators. hope is. radical, crazy, hope. do something that makes you hopeful and spiteful, even if its stupid. go scroll through the radical hope tag or listen to a song that makes your blood pump or take a run.

[butchviking]

i dont understand how conservative desire for single sex spaces differs from feminist reason. i understand that conservatives typically think of trans people as gay plus, sure, but like. in the actual desire for single sex spaces, what difference does it make

the difference it makes is in the bills they push through and the lack of care or provision for the fallout of those bills. if conservatives were pushing through a bill that said all use of mens/womens bathrooms, shelters, changing rooms, etc should be decided on birth sex alone - what are they putting in place to enable that? birth sex is not something stated on legal documents, bc legal sex can be changed. so how does one prove their sex? what happens to transmen who pass as male? i don't think most women are going to be happy with them coming into female spaces. how do they prove that that's actually where they're legally required to be? and what DOES happen to transwomen who pass as female and are forced to use male spaces? that IS dangerous for them and i understand its not the job of feminism to care about that issue but i personally do. and people can say "well this issue doesn't affect passing trans people bc no-one will ever know" but that only works if the person is completely stealth, which not every passing trans person is. and hell, what about passing butches?? how do THEY prove they're women if we know ID doesnt always reflect birth sex? all these people are just collateral damage to conservatives and i'm not okay w that.

ok. i will level with u. thats me making smthn up on the fly to justify my position. it didnt go very well at first so i gave up, but then i thought on it some more nd went back to it and i think that response does stand on its own now. at first i kind of thought "well, i guess this is the one issue we DO pretty much agree on" but the way conservatives do things is still always going to leave a lot of people caught in the middle and they definitely don't care enough to make sure those people are considered in their lawmaking.

however. u know the real answer? like the instinctive gut answer? because i dont fucking trust them. i dont fucking trust them and i dont trust them bc ive seen OTHER shit theyve pulled in this vein. like the anti-transition bills that have given no consideration to people who are ALREADY transitioning and would suddenly cut off their hrt or blockers if they don't meet the new requirements; like the bill against gender non-conformity in public spaces sold to the public as being about protecting children from predators within drag communities; like the combination of the attempt to reclassify authorising a child to transition as a sexual abuse with the introduction of the death penalty for sexual abuse. i do not fucking trust them and i know they do not have womens or childrens interests at heart i know this all just comes from them finding transgenderism degenerate and i do not think any good can come from supporting them bc they are always trying to slip smthn in under the radar they are always presenting laws to the public as one thing but wording them just right so that they actually have a whole different effect than people expected.

also, as a sort-of sidenote: given that regular ass people don't actually vote on laws, just elect people to do that, what would supporting their bills actually mean? voting for conservatives who will pass anti-gay anti-trans anti-woman pro-gender laws in the hope that they also throw a "oh and womens spaces for women only" in there? promoting the politicians who proposed the bills? i guess there's contacting state representatives and asking them to vote yes or no on a specific bill, but i get the impression most people don't really do that and more just make a public show of support for such-and-such a bill, which also promotes the party and the politician.

[buff-borf-bork]

ignore me, im simply frustrated thinking at 2am about the most common online discourse's lately that i thought everyone outgrew by now

:/ some of you guys are absolute freaks about kinks. its way more weird and creepy to be so obsessed with other people's sex lives than anything consenting could do adults.

i dont think some of you understand the difference between "this makes ME personally uncomfortable" and "that must mean its EVIL"

could you imagine walking up to someone irl and going HEY HEY HEY tell me ALL OF your kinks and i'll decide based on my own personal feelings and thing else if youre a bad person or not! every time someone tired to talk to you.

the human psyche is way too weird and complicated to boiled down to the black and white "pro vs anti" and deranged dni lists, stuff that i thought people outgrew in the late 2010s and is now being used to make harmful to EVERYBODY laws.

i dont support the stupidity of that for the same reason i dont support the death penalty. it never stop at just who YOU PERSONALLY think is a bad person or bad thing. like the "tiger eating face" political comic/meme but youre too blinded by simple white and black thinking or wanting to virtue signal that you dont see the bigger picture.

fuck, even when you DO approve of it, you want written receipts of people traumas which is messed up on its own, but its also, as stated by ACTUAL psychologists healthy and normal to explore dark topics in the safe space of fiction. literally google ANY dark topic and psychology and it will always show you articles by people who know what theyre talking about, that it is healthy and normal. much better sources than your personal discomfort.

kill the cop inside your head because it is literally making your mental health WORSE. thought crimes arent real but repression is! and will do you much more harm!

now of course there is science for being exposed to things at a young age will make you more likely to enact those things. which is why the answer isnt to make everything child friendly but to have adult spaces! which are constantly being taken away from the internet by ADVERTISERS!

its all just so much more complicated and nuanced than most seem to want to admit and it just gets so frustrating to see all the time 🫠

edit: and a part of me feels bad for getting heated about it, cause i know 90% of it is rooted in the fact that the internet has become a 'surveillance state'. of course thats gonna make people more paranoid. its still incredibly frustrating.

[comput3rage]

I mean I guess idk why OTHER PEOPLE oppose the death penalty. But I don't believe "no one deserves to die" or anything like that. I believe some people deserve to die. I say I'd like to kill people I oppose politically if I could get away with it all the time. I say I'd like to kill rapists I'd like to kill child predators I'd like to kill many people. However I do not support the right of the United States of America legal system to decide someone deserves to die when they can't even figure out who's guilty reliably, and therefore I dont support the death penalty. I don't think these things are incompatible

This is the stupidest thing I've seen in a minute I don't think y'all understand why people oppose the death penalty OR why people say someone should die

[tipturkey]

I fucking hate how there’s no nuance in internet arguments. I’m reading through a comment section on the death penalty and it’s all either ‘hitler didn’t deserve to die’ or ‘I think we should execute ransomware spreaders’

[violexides]

rambles under cut about law activism & framing but i ask u dont reblog it just bc while i am making strong points i dont want to get into actual internet discourse about this. ok love u

this might speak more to my worldview than anything but i wish i could rattle people back and forth and say that the second you start making exceptions for most things your entire argument dismantles in like. hang on how do i explain this okay 

if you think that society needs to do more to address homelessness (good!!!) and that people don’t deserve to be homeless (correct!!!) but then you say that X people DO deserve to be homeless the entire point of what you are saying falls apart. because you’ve decided that in order for someone to not deserve homelessness they need to fit into a specific moral qualification and once you extend that line of thinking you have created a group of people that you think deserve to be homeless and you have effectively strengthened society’s ignorance of how harmful homelessness is. 

if you support / are part of the LGBTQ+ or queer community and you think every LGBTQ+ or queer person is valid for their identity (correct!) but qualify that with “except bi/pan lesbians” “except pansexuals” “except cishet aro ace people” “except people who use neopronouns” it’s like congratulations you have decided to police the identities of other people. and while exclusionism is absolutely not the most significant risk to the LGBTQ+/queer community (it would be incredibly stupid to say that when many countries still have the death penalty for homosexuality), determining that certain LGBTQ+ or queer people are “cringe” or “fakers” is diverting attention away from those actual societal threats and focusing on stupid internalized exclusionism that literally helps nobody. 

i’m sure that there is an exception (ha) to which one could say exceptions need to be made. but to me i kind of exist in a mentality of. if you want to help X people you need to help ALL of X population. if you want to stop Y from happening you need to stop every instance of Y. and if you support Z people you should support every Z person.

and i get that’s an all or nothing way to think and i am amenable to the fact that there is fallacy there but like. i think about this in an activism and also in a legal kind of way. 

i myself am not a lawyer (i am an activist though but that’s irrelevant) but i do find law theory pretty interesting and something i’ve always thought about is like ... the law is written for everyone in a domain. and if you place a ban on something than you are placing a ban for ALL people and if you are removing a restriction for something you are removing that restriction for ALL people. 

like think about prison reform. YES there are absolutely horrible people in prison BUT we have historically seen that very innocent people get put into prison too and EITHER WAY it should be evident that prisons are incredibly inhumane. to me, even if bettering prison conditions meant that the worst person i can conceptualize would have a better life, that would be worth it. same with death penalty same with sex offender registry there’s a lot that kind of slots into that. 

[deonideatta]

It's not peak brain hours for me rn, so I'm going to write everything about the sunah-mjh conspiracy and what it implies (or at least how I understand it) out to organise it in my head. Pls correct me if I've gotten anything wrong or missed anything

So all in all the goal was to plant ga on as a spy/weakness using isaac's face as an in. At first I thought that mjh had been the one to steer ga on towards being a judge, and I still think that's possible, but I don't think he approached ga on solely with the intent to use him tho. Based on his face at the graduation it seems he already knew her before that. She probably approached him and offered him a position as chief justice in exchange for manipulating ga on. (Also, what's his deal resigning then? What does he really want out of all of this?). I don't think he took care of ga on after his parents died solely for that reason tho, bc i think he's established as a friend of ga on's father, which is how they came to know each other.

Ga on would then be used to attack yohan in the future. On a basic level that meant feeding information back to mjh/acquiring evidence of yohan's shady dealings so they could take him down. Along the line yohan and ga on kinda grew attached to each other, which threw off the plan bc now ga on wasn't willing to betray yohan for mjh. However on a deeper level ga on was meant to serve as a weakness for yohan, emotionally, which was made more possible by them getting closer.

Mjh then uses soo hyun to plant doubts in ga on's mind surrounding the church fire. Then, they kill off soo hyun, and mjh uses soo hyun's death and the church fire to plant suspiscion. Yohan pushes ga on off the edge in the end with the death penalty thing, and mjh takes the opportunity to collect the returns on his investment, talking ga on into outing the court as fake. So in the end ga on's attachment to yohan ends up being beneficial to sunah-mjh, bc it drives him to reveal the truth so he can stop yohan from going too far.

It seems like things are over for yohan, but then it turns out the public still supports him, to the point of wanting to make him president. Deciding to go in for the kill, sun ah-mjh trick ga on into thinking yohan did the church fire and killed soo hyun, prompting the stabbing. Now it seems sun ah did this for the added emotional blow, bc she could have just framed yohan and left it at that. Rather she chooses to target what's closest to him, the two people he cares about most. And we reach the tragic conclusion.

Now, what does this mean for ga on's character? We know that at least his friendship with soo hyun came about free from sun ah's plans. It predated his relationship with mjh, so at least we can assume that his interactions with soo hyun were genuine, and her advice to him was as well, though it may have been influenced by mjh. We know that Ga on becoming yohan's associate judge was not a coincidence, but it's not clear if ga on going to the kang mansion was intended by sunahmjh, bc though we know that the foundation planted the bomb it would be a bit of a gamble to assume it would lead to yohan taking ga on to his house. Either way the closeness achieved there and the drive to help yohan and elijah and feel sympathy for them are all things ga on did on his own

As for ga on choosing to side with yohan over mjh. I don't think this was in the plan, bc obviously if ga on changes sides he'll stop leaking info to mjh. So we can assume that that was ga on's decision, influenced of course by yohan. Funny how we all analysed the ways that yohan manipulated ga on while the real manipulation was coming from mjh lol. Then again, while it might not serve mjh's agenda (whatever that is, we actually don't know) it also serves sun ah's agenda in that it makes ga on more of a weakness to yohan, as he grows fonder of him.

I also dont think sunah-mjh accounted for ga on's dark side. Yohan drew that out, and used it to convince ga on of his way of doing things. It seems mjh did put a lot of effort into making ga on the poster boy of 'righteousness', so that he would remain at odds with yohan, so obviously it doesn't work in his favour to have ga on secretly have a dark side that relates to yohan. Additionally, there's no way mjh or sun ah played a role in ga on's parents' death (or is there..? Mjh has been mentioned to be a friend of ga on's father. hmmm), so whatever effects that had on him (I.e. his thirst for revenge) would have been out of their control.

It seems though that when ga on went to yohan's side, they simply changed the plan to account for it. Sow seeds of doubt via soo hyun, then kill soo hyun and make it look like yohan did it. And then yohan himself inadvertently helped by busting out the whole death penalty. In the end it worked out even better for them, bc ga on gained a lot more insider knowledge by going to yohan's side, and again, his concern for yohan also spurred him into action in order to stop yohan from crossing a line he couldn't uncross, the only way that seemed available.

And then when the situation seems to be turning in yohan's favour, they decide to deliver the final blow, both to him and to ga on. It's devastating to yohan because it targets the two people he cares about most, and threatens to reveal the secret he has sacrificed so much to keep, for elijah's sake. And it's devastating to ga on because suddenly it puts his whole life into question, and he's suddenly faced with the realization that a lot of what he's done had been carefully laid out for him in advance, that a lot of his life has been a tool in someone's big plan. And in the process he has lost all the things he had that were real: his relationships with soo hyun, yohan and elijah. Imagine the weight of realising that all the choices you agonised over, that you made because you believed you were doing the right thing, turn out to be the result of careful manipulation from someone you trusted like a parental figure, and that all the things that could have stopped the force behind that figure have been destroyed because of you and those choices.

Overall it's a very insidious and downright evil plan, especially because it hinged a lot on taking advantage of a young man lost in the wake of tragic events in order to steer his life in a direction meant to serve your sick and twisted goals. And then continuing to do so until your plans bear fruition, then shattering his whole world and moving on. All for the purpose of mentally tormenting some guy who wasn't nice to you when you were a maid that stole things from his house

My only issue with all this is how sun ah knew yohan was going to do all the things he was going to do so far in advance that she could plan ga on's career path accordingly? You could argue sun ah planted ga on purely based on her obsession with yohan, not necessarily expecting him to wage war on the elites. She may have then seen the benefit of ga on as a weakness of yohan's when the fight started and played up that aspect of the plan. Or she set up the live court for the express purpose of having yohan and ga on meet? Not clear on this, if anyone has any thoughts help a sister out.

We'll probably get more info in the finale, and I'll update this post if I think of anything new

[aoifeanamadan]

After School Special

Fandom: Minecraft YouTube rpf (mcyt)

Word count: 6488

Relationship: DreamNotFound (DreamxGeorgeNotFound)

Summary:

Montague versus Capulet, Taylor versus Katy, Dream versus George.

It was one of those fueds, the kind you barely even had to acknowledge. The sky is blue, we breathe air, Dream hated George.

Needless to say, neither of them were over the moon when they found out they had to spend two months working together in weekend detention.

Support this work on AO3 :)

Chapter Four: Hat Trick

Dream didn’t think texting George was meant to be this exciting. He didn’t think texting any of his friends was meant to be exciting point-blank . Not in the way texting George was. Every time his phone buzzed he was rushing to grab it, always on guard, always waiting. He had spent years calling his friends stupid for the way their faces lit up reading their phones. Now he was worse than all of them. But, it was different. This was George. And texting George was fun.

Dream was certain now that he was definitely funny. And he was smart, in the hard kind of way. He was unpredictable. Dream never knew what was coming. And he was nice to talk to. Every message sent, every message received, Dream felt them growing closer.

So, yeah, maybe his eyes were constantly scouring his phone screen. But he had a good reason. He was talking to George.

George, who said he didn’t normally talk to be people through the phone. He called it a handicapped form of communication, just as George-like as ever. Dream had forgotten to make fun of him for it, mind too busy with ‘ He doesn’t normally talk to people over the phone. He talks to you over the phone’.  It meant he was special.

George (2:20 am)

i dont want to annoy you lol

Dream (2:20 am)

if you sending me memes at fuck o clock in the morning was annoying me i wouldn’t have kept sending them back

George didn’t read the message for a full minute. Staring at the tiny symbol, showing his message was unopened, Dream couldn’t bring himself to feel pathetic. In the back of his mind he thought he should, but the rest of him was buzzing. Every cell was humming with a new kind of want. He wanted to know what George thought, hear how he felt. It was overwhelming. There was no room left for shame.

George (2:23 am)

i dont want to keep you up

Dont you have that match tomorrow

Dream did. It was against ‘ Saint Joseph’s Preparatory Institute ’ a private school just half an hour away from Dream and George’s school. The kids there were spoiled in ways Dream found difficult to understand, summer homes in Italy and money thrown away on nights out in the city. The person Dream thought Geoge had been just two weeks ago was nothing compared to the Saint Joseph boys. It was as if all of them wanted to play God, a family of clashing entitled titans, a Grecian mess.

Dream was certain if anyone on his team brushed against one of their arms they’d be on the floor, crying for the referee. It was the first match of the season, only a challenge, but he had been preparing his boys for almost three weeks to make sure they didn’t give away any fouls. Even if it didn’t affect their standing in the league it would affect team morale. It was important. He wanted to win, just like he always did.

But, that night, Dream couldn’t have cared less. The match, less than 24 hours away, was pushed to the back of his brain. His entire frontal lobe was taken up with George’s words, glaring brightly up at him from his screen, awaiting Dream’s reply.

Dream (2:24 am)

ur coming right?

Dream hit send, he always did. He was a full-send person down to the bone. For him, it was easy. He did everything with complete confidence, full fucking send. He couldn't imagine it any other way, not when everyone was hanging off his every word. Shame was foreign to him.

But, the second he hit the arrow on that message, something foreign happened. His stomach knotted itself, his heart sped up. His eyes glued themselves to the screen, trapping him in the silence of his bedroom, waiting for any kind of reply. Dream didn’t understand why he cared so much about a stupid message.

No matter how hard he tried to tell himself to calm down, it didn’t work. His mind couldn’t be reasoned with. Logic was out the window, replaced with the thought of George standing on the sidelines while Dream scored a winning goal. His heart was in palpitations for an agonising 40 seconds. George’s message was the first morsel of food in a year to Dream’s hungry eyes.

George (2:24 am)

do you want me to

Dream was typing a response before he could think. He didn’t need to think.

Dream (2:24 am)

yes

It wasn’t until he sent it that he realised how it could be read. Desperate. It was overwhelming, this new way of thinking. Dream had never considered how other people might read his texts. His mind never had the time to consider how he was perceived, always racing away from him. This new thing, it was dwelling. Dream hadn’t dwelled before.

George (2:25 am)

okay

ill go then

everyone knows i love to spend my saturday evenings outside in the cold

Dream didn’t mean to grin the way that he did when he read the reply. He didn’t even notice the smile snaking its way onto his. He had never smiled at someone's texts before.

George (2:26 am)

what time

Dream didn’t mean to lie. But he did accidentally tell George to be there an hour early so they had more time, away from the pressure of his role as captain. By accident . He felt justified in his deceit, his new constant urge to make George his friend was enough to allow it. He wanted to be around him, talking and laughing, bickering and disagreeing and teasing. He wanted all of it, the before and after of the years of resentment. The new growing fondness that Dream was trying his best to ignore.  

Above all, he wanted to be liked by George. He wanted the reassurance of his approval.

If George, who had hated him for years, who had been on the receiving end of his cold stares and scoffs, could like him then it would be sure. Dream could be certain that he was a good person.

They kept texting until George sent his death sentence, in the form of a digital message.

George (2:31 am)

go to sleep

And that was that. George’s status switched to inactive and Dream was left staring at the tiny dot where his green light used to be, the Daisy to his Gatsby.

Dream (2:31 am)

george

?

georgie

ok

Dream forced himself to turn off his phone, it felt as if he was cutting off a hand. Giving up the hope of hearing anything more from George that night and accepting the isolation. But he could do it, almost happily, comforted by the knowledge he would see George the next day.

He recentered his weight and let his head sink into his pillow. It smelled old. Not bad, but old. Dream couldn’t stop himself from smiling, sad and gentle. He held his phone to his chest and squeezed. The metal didn’t move but his fingers ached with the force.

In the back of his mind, Dream realised it was dangerous. This smiling, this thing burrowing itself into his heart. But he couldn’t stop himself. He let himself imagine a world where he knew George fully, recognised every part of him as George. A jigsaw in the shape of a man where Dream knew the place of each part as if it were the back of his hand. It was a different kind of friendship than what Dream had known. He wanted to understand him, to uncover all the secrets he was holding so close to his chest. It felt as if knowing George was inevitable. And he wanted George to do the same to him, to see all of him and like it. To prove he could be known in full and still seen as himself, still Dream. Still human.

Dream didn’t feel himself falling asleep but he didn’t wake up until 3 in the afternoon, his phone still lying over his heart.

Sapnap collected him before George, so he had time to explain his misleading statement before George got in the truck clueless at half four in the afternoon, three hours before the match started.

George understood what had happened once they arrived at the empty pitch. Dream was thankful he had briefed Sapnap before their arrival, because without Sapnap there he was convinced he would have ended up in a morgue.

Once George had accepted and made peace with the situation, that is to say 95 minutes and multiple very stern telling offs later, Dream and Sapnap decided the only natural thing to do was warm up an hour early.

With a ball from Sapnap’s truck, they started to pass gently to each other. George only managed to claim he couldn’t play for 10 minutes before Dream and Sapnap convinced him to join in.

Dream had been sure George was exaggerating his incompatibility with the sport. Fundamentally, it was just kicking a ball. But Dream was very wrong. Dream tried to tip him the ball, a gentle touch, but somehow George still fumbled it. He managed to stand on the ball three times before kicking it past Sapnap.

They spend half an hour trying to explain the basics of soccer to an increasingly annoyed George, who thanked God when the real team started to trickle in. It meant he was released from the seventh circle of hell - soccer drills

Dream went through the motions of his pre-match routine; the warm-up and laughter and tieing of boots. The coach, their chemistry teacher, arrived ten minutes before the match started. Dream gave a particularly rousing speech and then suddenly they were in the tunnel, waiting for the referee to call them onto the field.

Normally, the time in the tunnel made any other time spent on the field feel tiny, irrelevant. It was a place that didn’t obey the laws of time. Four seconds in the tunnel made a month on the field feel like maybe ten minutes.

That day, Dream had spent three hours on the field before the match. Normally, the tunnel would have made that feel like a millisecond. A blip.

But, Dream could recall the hours spent easily. He barely had to think before George yelling at him and Sapnap rushed to mind. George trying to score a goal from the penalty line, with no goalie, and somehow hitting the crossbar . George’s sigh of relief when he saw one of the players approaching to relieve him of his place in the drill. It was all cased in amber in Dream’s brain. It was proof that he had prepared for this match. There was a time before it and there would be a time after.

Standing on the tunnel, waiting to be called out to play the first match of the year, Dream was calm.

Before he could think too deeply, Sapnap turned to Dream. His eyes were almost pleading. He grabbed ream by the shoulders and tried to look deep into his soul.

“Promise me that you won't start any fights this time.” Dream couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. He never started fights, but he replied anyway to put Sapnap at ease.

“I promise I won’t start any fights.” Sapnap breathed a sigh of relief, ever the drama queen.

“Thank you.” Sapnap turned to head to the team huddle, everyone waiting for Dream’s final good luck. Before Sapnap could walk away Dream grinned, lopsided and hyper.

“I will finish them though.”

Dream was walking out before Sapnap could protest, the team behind him. Dream didn’t want to prolong their wait any longer. They knew what he was going to say, and he knew they didn't need to hear it. The atmosphere changed the second the crowd could see them

Oakland had walked out stiff and straight-backed. Proper as always. Beside them, Dream and his team’s causal jogs and crowd-pleasing waves were even more charming. Dream allowed himself a moment to revel in the cheers before locking his eyes on the ball.

Once he adjusted to the floodlights, Dream’s eyes raked over the crowds until they locked on George, leaning on the low fence. He shot him his lopsided grin and waved. He was charm personified. The crowd’s heads swivelled in search of the recipient, but no one looked at George smiling as he rolled his eyes.

Once the whistle was blown, the team came alive. The state champions ran circles around Oakwood. Dream was two-thirds of the way to his aspired hat trick by half time, with the total score at 4 - nil. Their team worked seamlessly together, everyone exactly where they needed to be. It was like watching a well-oiled machine, or embroidery at super speed.

Dream and Sapnap were shining through, their natural chemistry turned to telepathy on the soccer field. It was as if the ball was a piece of metal and they were the magnets. It stuck to them, gravitated to their feet.

By the second half, Oakwood were angry. It showed in their game. They started to slip up, losing easy balls. Their footwork got sloppy. But they also got more aggressive. Somehow, the referee was turning a blind eye to every misplaced kick and accidental shove in the back. But, Dream had trained everyone for this. They stayed calm, took their deep deep breaths and played fair.

Oakwood did not take the same approach. The more time they spent on the field, the rougher they played. Dream had cycled through six of the ten substitutes by the time the second half rolled around. He was convinced the referee had optional cataracts.

With twenty minutes left, Dream’s team were 3 goals up - the only three goals of the match. But, Dream was still a goal away from his hat trick, and he was getting tired.

The rest of the team was playing defence, just like Dream had told them to do during training. He had said it would be stupid to go for glory in this situation, three goals up and approaching the end of the match. It would be plain dumb.

Dream knew all this, thought about it even. He knew it was right, but he saw an Oakland striker, who he was not supposed to be marking, running up the field. He didn’t have the ball, it was on the opposite end of the pitch, but Dream could see it in his mind’s eye. Two easy, unlikely passes and it would be at the striker’s open feet.

There were other boys closer to him, it would’ve made more sense for them to run to mark him. It would have been easy. But Dream couldn’t stop thinking of the one goal he needed for a hat trick.

Aching feet and heaving lungs Dream ran towards him. The striker saw him coming from a mile off.

His leg connected with Dream’s, and suddenly Dream was on the floor clutching his shin.

At first, there was no feeling. Then, just as suddenly as the air had left Dream’s lungs when he hit the floor, there was intense pain.  

Dream looked down at his leg, curled up on the floor. He couldn’t hear the referee’s whistle blowing. But he could see the blood.

Before he could make a scene, he was pushing himself up unto his feet. The Oakwood striker didn’t offer him a hand up.

Dream was sent off to the sidelines, limping with an arm around Sapnap’s shoulder. Someone’s mother was a nurse. She assured him it was just a surface wound. Dream saw his parents in the stand, he hadn’t noticed them before. He would’ve waved weakly, or shot them a thumbs up, but he couldn’t focus on them. His mind was racing through anger and pain and anger again.

From the bench, Dream nodded to Sapnap to take the penalty. It wasn’t a question.

He had to sit the final fifteen minutes out, screaming from the bench. The only benefit was George’s spot in the crowd behind him was right behind the bench. He was sitting with his friends, making sarcastic comments about Oakwood. It was nice to listen to, distracting.

With Oakwood playing a man down, the team won 4 - 0.

After the obligatory post-win speech, Dream enjoyed a long warm shower in the changing rooms. It was a scarce rarity for him, only his third long shower in the changing block in four years.

After, Dream was alone in the dressing room, all aching muscles and sore lungs. He was sitting on the bench, legs shaking with the exhaustion of it all. His hair was wet and his shoulders were slumped. There was a low humming echoing off the concrete walls. Dream barely noticed it. He had screwed his eyes tightly shut and had his head hanging between his shoulders. He was waiting there until it was firmly ten minutes since anyone had left, just like he always did. And he was humming, which he did not always do.

It was coming from the base of his throat. The tune of ‘Call Me Maybe’ was raspy, hidden under his breath. But it was there, soft and delicate. The rise and fall, the soft lilts. It made the cold of air of the changing room warmer, familiar. He didn’t think about it, didn’t imagine he would be heard. He just sat there, hair dripping and voice humming. It was tender and charged, too patient.

Hey, I just met you,

And this is crazy,

“Well done, you. You did great” George’s voice came from the doorway, distant and delicate. It shattered Dream’s bubble of gentle calm.

Dream’s brain froze. It caught him off guard, disarmed him. The softness of George’s tone. Too genuine. Before he could unfreeze his mind to think about it, George was talking again.

“Except when you fell. That was embarrassing.”

Dream lifted his head from the wall and cracked open his eyes. George was smiling softly at him. It made Dream feel as if he was bending back his ribs one by one to get a closer look at his panting heart. He couldn’t quite bring himself to stand.

“Brave words Mr Speed Chess.” This was easy, this was Dream and George. Sharp banter and too intense bickering. It was easier than the alternative, the thing Dream wanted once the sun went down. The symbiotic vulnerability.  

Dream realised just how tired he really was, listening to his own fragile voice. He was sure George had to have noticed it too. He was sure his smile was too soft, his words too tender to be teasing.

He didn’t know what it was, this new wall he was building. This refusal to let George see him vulnerable. Dream tried to rationalise, call to mind the years of hatred and distrust. It didn’t work, he was met with the hours he and George had spent laughing, the simple rhythm they had so quickly fallen into. George’s quiet jokes, Dream’s beaming grin. There was no reason for this guard Dream was invoking. Yet still, he couldn’t stop it. The hand always hovering over his mouth, ready to slap it closed.

Sapnap was coming in behind George before Dream could leave himself exposed.

“I swear to God, whenever I see you two together it’s like I get to watch a chihuahua provoke a wolfhound." Sapnap was next to George in the doorway, grinning. Dream smiled back, heaving himself up off the bench. Dream wasn’t sure if he was meant to be the chihuahua or wolfhound.

“Fuck off, Sapnap.” He muttered it at the same time as George, shouldering his way past them towards Sapnap’s truck.

“You two are the closest thing I have to a real-life soap opera!” Sapnap was calling out as he followed behind. Despite his best efforts, Dream smiled.

Once the three of them were in the truck, they could really talk. Sapnap and Dream were trying to convince George to come to a party at one of the player’s houses in place of their normal bickering. It was only right to celebrate the win, but George was insisting he couldn’t go.

Dream and Sapnap had matching that’s bullshit looks on their faces,

Through a mix of begging and empty threats, they managed to get George to agree to come inside, just to congratulate the team.

He stuck to his word, entering, finding the team all together in the front room and saying a single ‘Great Game’. Then, he turned on his heel and made his way to the front door with his head down. Sapnap and Dream rushed after him.

By the time they caught up, his hand was on the doorknob. But, before he pulled it, he was turning his head to the space on his left. Dream and Sapnap were still standing in the doorway to his right.

“Bad?” Bad’s face lit up as he abandoned his conversation to turn towards George.

“George!” He ran to hug a laughing George.

“Since when were you the partying type?”

“Since when were you?”

Dream and Sapnap couldn’t believe they had forgotten to tell him Bad would be there.

Twenty minutes in, George was on his fifth shot. Dream and Sapnap looked like Christmas had come early. Bad looked like a concerned father spotting his child in the boxing ring with Muhammad Ali.

“George, oh my God! What are you doing?” George was drinking straight from the vodka bottle while Sapnap and George watched.

George kept drinking from the bottle until Bad took it off him.

“It’s been a boring week. I'm about to fix that.” Dream had never seen George like this.

George’s grin was devilish, the kind that would have made Dream’s heart flutter and stomach drop if he was a girl. But he was not a girl. And so he thought nothing of George’s gleaming teeth and impish eyes. Nothing.

One thing Dream realised, an hour into the party, was that George was just as clumsy with his mouth when he was drunk as his limbs when he was sober.

Dream was standing in one of the doorways to the kitchen, talking to a girl. She was nice. She liked swimming and pc gaming, not worlds away from Dream. He figured they could be friends. She left to dance with her friends and Dream left to get himself another drink. George was standing next to the spirits.

“She’s not good for you. She was a dick to my friends last year. Hell, even I would be better for you and you hate me”

He hated the way George made his breath stop with stupid comments like that. Dream gritted his teeth.

“Don’t hate you anymore, Georgie.” His shoulders were stiffer than he wanted them to be.

George grinned back at him and drawled.

“For now, Dreamer.”

That fucking grin, sprawling between his aristocratic cheekbones. And that fucking nickname. He hated the way it made his stomach flip, acrobatic routines in the pit of his stomach. Dreamer, Dreamer, Dreamer . A mantra.

“Are you drunk, George?”

George opened his mouth, ready to deny it, but the cogs of his brain snapped his mouth closed before he could get the words out.

“You know what? Nevermind, you’ll know I’m lying to you anyway.”

Dream didn’t know what it was, the resignation in George’s voice, the gentle familiarity. It made him mad. He made it make him mad, because the alternative was wobbly knees and blushing cheeks. And George didn't have the power to do that to him.

George grabbed his arm, slender fingers gripping strong.

“Come on, let’s dance.” He started to pull him towards the front room, where the speakers were.

“Wait, George, wait,” Dream pulled George back to him gently. He was still clinging to his arm. Dream shrugged him off as softly as he could. His touch felt like hot coals, the way it made Dream’s skin burn. He couldn’t handle it.

“Why?” Dream didn’t like the disappointment painted all over George, stitched on his face and laced through his muscles. He couldn’t hide his emotions the way he normally did. Not here, not drunk and tired looking as if he wanted to beg Dream to dance. Dream had to explain.

“I can’t dance.” George’s face didn’t change.

“Yeah, why?” He was looking up at him expectantly, which had not been the plan.

“What do you- I’m bad at it. I can’t dance.” Dream gestured to his long legs and stretched arms. George’s face lit up, a lightbulb moment. Dream realised, George had thought he couldn’t dance because of his injured shin. He cursed himself internally for not being more dramatic.

“You don’t have to be good at something to do it, Dream. Dancing at parties is fun. It’s like exercise, but for your brain.” George pointed to his two temples with both hands, grinning. Not the plan.

“It’s very literally exercise for your body.” Dream didn’t realise there was a smile on his face.

“Fine, it’s exercise for your soul. Now, come on. Dance with me.”

Dream managed to down a shot while he was dragged out by George, it felt like fire down his raw throat. Before he could say no, George was pulling him to the speakers. Dream didn’t dance, he had never known how to. His limbs were too jerky, arms too awkward. And bad dancing didn’t fit the Dream image , not cool and nonchalant enough.

But George was looking up at him with a messy grin and the speakers were thumping and the bodies around him were thrumming. He tried to justify it to himself, the lights were low, no one would see him, but Dream couldn’t have said no in a million years. Not to George, not there, not then.

It was easy to tell the song was on its outro as Dream and George stumbled in. Dream laughed easily at his accidental win.

“Oh no! There goes that idea. Come on, let’s find Sapnap and Bad.” He went to tug George out, but George tugged him back. It caught Dream off balance, making him stumble after George to keep from falling.

George rolled his eyes, slinking his way to the boy with the aux cord and dragging Dream with him.

“Hey, Toby, what’s up?” George talked to the boy, who he was apparently friendly with. Dream knew he went to their school, but he didn’t know the boy. If George hadn’t just said his name, he would’ve had no idea. He stood awkwardly behind George, unsure whether or not he should introduce himself. He was too caught up in the unfamiliar awkwardness to listen to what they were saying. Before he knew it, George was smiling Toby a thanks and dragging him back into the crowd.

“What was that about?” Dream had to bend down to whis[er into George’s ear. George didn’t reply. He didn’t need to.

The iconic opening of Carly Rae Jepsen's ‘Call Me Maybe’ started to play. Dream couldn’t stop the barking laugh he let out. George smiled so widely Dream was sure his cheeks would rip open.

Dream wasn’t sure if it was the shots, or the crowds or the boy standing open and soft before him, but he felt the hardened rock around his muscles and tendons melt away. He couldn’t dance, but he could sway next to George while Carly Rae Jepsen sang one of her masterpieces.

George was his only salvation from the heaving, living heat of the crowd. His flushed face and ruined hair were all Dream could see. He tried his casual swaying, but George’s energy called for more.

Dream couldn’t help but sing along.

I threw a wish in a well,

I looked at you as it fell.

George was not a great dancer, really he just flailed and hopped. He yelled to the beat and flung his arms about him. Dream had to apologise on his behalf to a girl he had accidentally whacked. She didn’t acknowledge it.

Dream realised, no one there cared. Everyone just wanted to dance. Dream looked to George, laughing and jumping to the mirage of singing violins. It was all so intense, Dream couldn’t resist it.

His thudding, thumping body didn’t quite match George’s plasmic flow. His muses thrashed with the musical pulses, throat raw from the singing. No matter how loud he was, everyone  around him was louder.

It felt like indulgence, sweeping slowly over his skin and through his veins. He had to choose to let himself enjoy it.

His dancing was horrible, but George loved it. Dream felt like it was a newfound candour, this allowance. He was bad, he was having fun. There was no contradiction. He could do both.

Where you think you’re going, baby?

Dream’s thudding stomps didn’t match George’s rough edged-grace, but he was there. And he was dancing. It felt like a win. It felt human, more human than Dream had felt in days. In those three minutes, he wasn’t the Dream. He was just another person.

He felt like one cell in the body of a giant, doing the same as everyone around him, but for the first time he liked it. He was doing the same as George, who was jumping offbeat.

But here’s my number, so call me maybe?

Dream’s panting chest felt like it was holding corporal freedom inside it. He thought his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his cell wall chest and soar away.

Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad.

I missed you so, so bad.

Dream couldn’t believe he had ever thought George was restrained and standoffish.

The George Dream had thought he had known for years, detached and reserved, quiet and reclusive; Dream watched in his mind as he died and was replaced with this new man. This new George had an unrelenting mind and thrashing heart. It fit perfectly with Dream’s aching body and delicate soul. There, sweating next to George as he sang his throat raw, Dream was sure George had to be his missing part. His final puzzle piece. If there was an empty cave in Dream he would stretch and chip away at it until it was the perfect size for George to settle in.

As the song ended, Dream tried to sort out his jumbled thoughts. His brain felt like a smoothie. Before he could take an internal inventory, Sapnap was beside him. It was easy to guide a panting Dream and George away from the dance floor and down a quiet hall, muttering about ‘totally unlike you, both of you’.

Dream couldn’t process the moving. He shut his eyes to keep it out, only opening his eyes for sporadic flashes of the house. He knew they were going down a hall together, but it all blended into one.

Sapnap got more and more excited the closer they got to the end of the hall. When he finally opened the last door, he was practically hopping.

Dream’s muddied brain recognised it as some kind of game’s room, like the basement in Sapnap’s old house. There was an easily ignored pool table, and on the pool table was an open bottle.

George got to the bottle first. He offered it to Dream and Sapnap before drinking from it. He coughed and spluttered as it went down.

“Gin.” His grimace was enough to deter them all.

Sapnap found a VR headset, the kind none of them had at home. They had to arm wrestle for it. Sapnap won, through methods involving plain cheating if you asked Dream. He had kicked Dream’s blooded shin ‘accidentally ’ mid-wrestle and refused a rematch. George hadn’t wanted to get involved.

Sapnap got to play on the VR first.

George was a nice drunk to be around. He wasn’t loud or annoying or excitable. He was just George, but less guarded. He thought out loud about the universe and the human condition and why goldfish were called goldfish when they were orange. Dream sat cross-legged in front of him while he spoke, slow and heavy. His brain felt cloudy, but in a nice way. A buffer between Dream and George, and everything else.

George liked to do things wrong. The more he talked about random things, the clearer it became. He ate pasta at breakfast time. He sat on chairs backwards and sideways and even upside down, laying his back on the seat and letting the blood rush to his head. He used his conditioner before his shampoo.

Dream tried to tell him, tried to enlighten him that he was living wrong.

“Well, I’m doing perfectly fine.”

Dream didn’t know how George managed to slip this gentle tenderness into everything he did. He swapped from sitting cross-legged to lying down, sprawling like a starfish. Dream did the same. He could feel their fingers brushing against each other.

Sapnap was immersed in his own digital world, but Dream was sure they were feeling the same thing, total separation from reality It was as if he and George had escaped time. They just lay there on the dirty carpet together, fingertips barely brushing.

“Ow!” The serenity didn’t last long. Sapnap had walked into a wall.

George laughed aloud. “That's going to hurt in the morning.”

Sapnap held up his middle finger, in the wrong direction. The headset was still on.

“It hurts now, idiot.” Dream grinned between them. He wasn’t used to their friendship.

“Well, at least you did your best!” Dream tried to give his positive input from his position on the floor. Sapnap shuddered.

“God, I hope not.” He went into the game again.

Dream turned his body back to the ceiling, but it wasn’t the same. The bubble was popped and he couldn’t stitch it back together.

Instead, he sat up to face George again so they could talk.

Ten minutes later, Sapnap was still alive and thriving in the game, while Dream and George were falling back into the natural rhythm of their conversations.

“Why did you think I hated you?” George’s voice was a rock skimmed on the pond of quiet. Dream was laying back on the couch, eyes again locked on the ceiling. It made it easier, not having to look at George on the other end of the couch. Their feet were tangled together. George was being gentle with Dream’s recovering shin. Dream didn’t think about it before replying.

“Didn’t you?” He didn’t see the gentle shake of George’s head.

“No. If anything, you hated me.” His voice bounced from the ceiling to Dream’s ears. Dream sat up to face him, ceiling tainted.

“No I didn’t. No, I don’t.” It was Dream’s turn now to shake his head. He wanted to lean forward and tell George a hundred times. He didn’t, he doesn’t.

“Okay, Dream.” George hadn’t sat up, still staring at the white ceiling.

Neither of them said anything for a minute. Dream looked at George, George looked up. Dream couldn’t handle the quiet, the noncommitment in George’s voice. He needed to fix it. He spoke into the silence.

“You just, you stopped talking to me. Like, overnight. So, I just thought you hated me.” Dream couldn’t keep looking at him. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes. He wished he hadn’t had that vodka. It was shoving cotton in his mouth and down his throat. There was morphine in his lips, he couldn’t get his words out.

“Yeah. I was anxious. I wasn’t talking to anyone.” George’s gaze was deadset, not on Dream.

“Well, you ignored me. I thought you hated me.” Dream tried to justify himself to George, to rationalise his behaviour at nine years old. George just hummed.

“So all of that, the years of dirty looks and rolling eyes, it was because I hurt your feelings by being too quiet?” George finally looked at him. Dream couldn’t believe he had ever wanted him to. His eyes were cold stone.

“Don’t say it like that.” Dream wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. His voice sounded small. Sapnap still had the headset on, he couldn’t hear them. He wasn’t coming to save him.

“Well, how would you say it, Dream?” George was still staring at him. Dream wanted to sew his eyes shut.

“I-” He looked away, but found himself looking back in George’s eyes before speaking again. “You weren’t just quiet . You ignored me.” It was all too quiet.

“You were too busy for me Dream. I wanted to be your friend, for years. Don’t try and spin this as if I dropped you. You couldn’t deal with me being quiet, with me going through a hard time. You needed my attention, you wanted it, 24/7. You were selfish.”

Dream couldn’t speak. He felt like someone was sucking the air slowly from his lungs and then the last traces of oxygen from his blood. George stood up and it was the final kick.

Sapnap must have sensed the movement, because just then he took off the headset.

“I think I saw some of my friends in another room. I’m going to go and say hi.”

“Hey, we’re your friends.” Dream had no idea how Sapnap knew to make his voice so soft at that moment. He had always had a sixth sense for those things.

“Yeah.” Dream managed to choke the word out.

“Come on Dream. Sometimes I think if you saw me bleeding out on your kitchen floor, you’d act like you hadn’t seen me.” George smiled tightly to Sapnap and left.

Dream let him go. He hated the tightness in his chest, the bitter taste in his mouth. He made himself feel angry in a way he knew he didn’t deserve to be. For the first time in his life, he knew George was right about what had happened. A lot of it had been his fault.

[polyamorouspunk]

Um,,, Im not whoever you're vaguing about, but im Really curious how those statements coexist? Like, how do we lock up people without prison? Isnt prison just a name for locking people up? Sorry, I dont wanna make you mad,,,, Im really scared to s end this in case you get mad at me but Im really really confused? Pls don be mad Im really just confused but I understand if youre mad and I wont ever ask something like this again sorry in advance

The American Prision system and a lot of prision systems are flawed but you can still lock someone up in a healthy rehabilitation environment and never let them out until they die without abusing them. I don’t support the death penalty, but I’m also happy that Ted Bundy got fried and if one of GSK’s victims decided to put a bullet in his head, I’ll be patting them on the back.

[invisibleoctopus]

if saying that pedophiles deserve therapy and support instead of the death penalty makes me a "pedo apologist" then im a pedo apologist

and this is coming from someone who had a pedophile teacher in middle school and is traumatized from the experience bc i kinda had a weird fucked up crush on him???

so dont try to pull the "but what about the children!!!!" card with me if you decide to discourse on this post because i WAS the children.

[pikapeppa]

Fenris/f!Hawke modern AU: Tequila

Chapter 5 of Damned Spot is up on AO3! It ends on a bit of a cliffhanger BUT THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE UP EITHER TONIGHT OR TOMORROW, I PROMISE. Posting this one tonight for @dadrunkwriting Friday!

In which Fenris and Rynne flail around like awkward idiots in the wake of the previous night’s party. Tiiiiiiny hint of smut. Previous chapters can be read here: [1] [2] [3] [4] 

And beautiful art of this fic can be seen on the Tumblr of my partner in life and crime, the ever-talented @schoute​. 

***********************

2:21pm - you had fun last night. admit it!

Rynne’s phone made a little swish sound as it whisked her message away to Fenris. She grinned to herself as she pulled her sunglasses from her forehead down to her nose, then stepped out into the brilliant afternoon sunshine.

She was still on a high from how great the party was. After the intensity of the conversation on the balcony, Fenris had spent the rest of the night by her side. They’d both continued drinking, and he’d started loosening up, and Rynne lost her breath every damned time he laughed. He talked more than she’d expected, firmly sharing his opinions in the ebb and flow of conversations as they moved among the various groups of people in the house, and he was just…

He was so fucking smart. And articulate. And surprisingly opinionated. Rynne hadn’t expected that either, given how infrequently he participated in chit-chat at the Hanged Man. But now that she’d seen him talking more freely, it was more obvious than ever that his customary reserved silence masked an unceasing river of thought rather than a lack of anything important to say.

His opinions didn’t always match with hers. In addition to the lyrium issue, Fenris favoured the death penalty and really seemed to hate big corporations like Amazon. Rynne, on the other hand, supported rehab for convicted criminals and didn’t particularly care where her stuff came from as long as it was cheap. She and Fenris butted heads a few times, and the conversation became rather heated on more than one occasion - too heated for Isabela, who complained that this was a party and not a courthouse - but somehow, Rynne always managed to diffuse the tension and make him smile.

And as soon as Fenris smiled, every hint of cogent thought fled her foolish brain.

He’d followed her from the couch to the kitchen to the games room, scoffing at her jokes and returning her teasing with rapid-fire retorts that made her laugh so hard her stomach hurt. He’d point-blank refused to dance with her, but it hadn’t stopped her from dancing up on him like the shameless tart that she was. At one point, while she was twisting in front of him like a snake, he put his hand on her waist.

Fenris had touched her. Touched her of his own free will, twice in a single night. He’d shaken his head and smirked at her as his elegant, tattooed fingers squeezed her waist, and…

Maker’s balls, Rynne really wanted to fuck him.

But it was so much more than that. Usually Rynne was happy to hop into bed with whoever caught her interest, and if the fling became more than physical, that was a happy plus. But with Fenris… She got the sense that that wouldn’t work for him, and that she’d have to wait for him to come around to the idea of sleeping with her.

Rynne didn’t care. She was more than happy to wait. She would wait for him for months if she had to, because she could happily admit the truth: in the space of less than two months, she’d become more attached to Fenris than to any other romantic partner she’d ever had.

Fenris knew her worst secret, the one she’d been forced to hold most closely to her chest, and he didn’t think she was a horrible person for what she’d done. He’d given her a few secrets of his own, and she knew that was no small thing for him. Somehow, for some reason, Rynne trusted him at a visceral, instinctual level, just as much as she trusted Piper and Cullen. And in the most uninhibited depths of her heart, she knew that she would wait for him for as long as it took.

But hopefully it wouldn’t take too long.

She cheerfully hummed along to her tropical house playlist as she made her way to Athenril’s coffee shop in Lowtown. She was so busy rehashing the happy events of the previous night that she was halfway to Lowtown before she realized that Fenris hadn’t texted her back.

She pulled out her phone and swiped through to her messages.

2:33pm - fine, play coy, i dont mind ;) 2:33pm - seriously though i’m really glad you came

She popped her phone back in her pocket, but to her happy surprise, it dinged less than a minute later.

2:34pm - Thank you for having me.

I haven’t had you yet, she thought cheekily. But she would keep that thought to herself. For now, at least.

2:34pm - anytime ^^ 2:34pm - are you super hungover? did i wake you up? lol

2:34pm - No. I’ve been up for hours. Some of us don’t have the luxury of blackout curtains in every bedroom window.

Aw. So snarky, she thought fondly. She could imagine the crease of his eyebrows and the smirk on his lips as he texted her. The image fostered a warm feeling in her belly, and she grinned to herself as she stepped into the road.

“Hawke! Be careful!” A strong female hand grabbed her elbow and pulled her back, and Rynne squealed in alarm as a taxi screeched around the corner in the spot where she’d just been standing.

“Fuck!” Rynne gasped. She pulled out one earphone and stared up at Aveline, who was scowling at her with a look that she usually reserved for shoplifting teenagers. “Av! My hero! Kirkwall’s finest at her very best! How are you?”

“I’m fine. But you need to pay attention to your surroundings,” Aveline scolded. “Turn your music down. You would have heard that cab coming if your music was quieter.”

Rynne tilted her head playfully. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over my music. What was that you said?”

Aveline pursed her lips. “Very funny.” She waved a hand for Rynne to cross the street, and they made their way in the direction of Lowtown together.

“Seriously though, how are you?” Rynne asked. “How’s Donnic?”

Aveline’s expression softened at the mention of her husband. “He’s well, thank you. Enjoying paternity leave.” She smiled slightly, and Rynne grinned at the pinkness of the police captain’s cheeks.

“And how’s Carver doing?” Rynne asked. “I hope he listens to you more than he ever listened to me. It would be embarrassing for a police officer to get another ticket for parking in a no-parking zone.”

“He’s doing very well,” Aveline replied. Her tone held a hint of censure. “He’s a hard worker, you know. A good addition to the precinct. And yes, he listens well, so no complaints there.” Aveline shot her a sideways look. “It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other, hasn’t it?”

Rynne shrugged casually. “Yep.” It had been about six months, in fact. But it was better this way. It wasn’t like Carver wanted to see her, anyway.

She changed the subject. “What are you doing out in these parts, anyway?” she asked. “I thought you were more of a desk jockey these days. Are half of the precinct on vacation or something?”

Aveline pursed her lips again. “A good captain keeps her eyes and ears on the street whenever she has a chance,” she announced. She gave Hawke a knowing look. “You should be grateful that I’m out and about. You’d be roadkill otherwise.”

“That I would,” Rynne chuckled, and she slipped her hand through the crook of Aveline’s arm. “Care to escort me the rest of the way to Athenril’s, just in case I decide to wander into traffic again?”

Aveline smiled. “I’m afraid not. I’ll be leaving you here, actually. I’m off to the docks.” She patted Rynne’s hand, then pulled away. “Be careful,” she warned. “Volume down!”

“Yeah, all right!” Rynne waved and popped her earphones back in at full volume, then pulled her phone out again.

No further texts from Fenris. The ball was still in her court.

2:40pm - hey, those blackout curtains are necessary ok 2:40pm - you don’t know this, but im actually a vampire 2:41pm - i spontaneously combust in direct sunlight 2:41pm - none of that sparkly diamond skin twilight bullshit. i’m the real deal

She held her phone loosely in her hand as she strolled along. When he didn’t reply a few minutes later, she lifted her phone and tapped out another message.

2:44pm - what are you up to today? wanna hang out later?

She sent the message before she could stop to think twice. Maybe she was being overeager, but she’d really enjoyed spending time with him last night. They were both off work until Tuesday, and if she had to wait that long to see him again, she would drive Piper up the wall with her gushing.

By the time she reached Athenril’s coffee shop, he still hadn’t replied. But as luck would have it, he didn’t need to. As Rynne stepped into the cafe, she instantly spotted a familiar black-clad and hooded figure standing at the counter with his hands shoved into his pockets.

She grinned, then sashayed over to him and leaned against the counter. “Excuse me, sir. Are you a janitor? Because you’ve swept me off my feet.”

Fenris recoiled at her abrupt appearance, then his eyebrows rose as he recognized her. “Hawke! What are you doing here?”

“Inspecting the goods, of course,” she said. She bit her lip and gave him a coy smile.

To her slight disappointment, he didn’t smirk in return. Instead, he ran a hand over his hood and dropped his gaze.

Rynne straightened up. “I’m picking up an order,” she explained. “It’s our usual after-party thing. Unfortunately, I drew the short straw for pick-up today.” She stood on her tiptoes and waved at Emile, who held up two fingers to her.

She nodded, then turned back to Fenris. “Did you get my text?” she asked brightly.

“I did,” he confirmed. And he said nothing more.

Rynne frowned slightly. He wasn’t looking her in the eye. Maybe he was just really focused on getting his coffee, but she was getting a distinctly weird vibe from him.

Well, he’d been weird when she first him, and that hadn’t thrown her off. “So. What are you up to today?” she said. “Want to come over and hang out with us?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” he said. “I’ve… I have errands to look after.” He nodded at the barista as she handed him his coffee, then turned away from the counter and from Rynne.

Her stomach started writhing. What was wrong with him? Had she done something wrong? She could hear Isabela’s voice in her mind telling her to brush him off and let it go, but Rynne’s shameless, prideless tongue wouldn’t stop wagging.

She followed him as he moved toward the door. “Do you want to go for dinner with me?” she blurted. “There’s an Antivan tapas place that just opened in Hightown. I haven’t been there yet, but Varric said the fish tacos are to die for.”

“No,” Fenris said bluntly. “I mean - no, thank you. I will see you on Tuesday.” He finally looked her in the eye - the briefest, most neutral look - then pushed open the door to the coffee shop and left.

Rynne stood dumbly near the door as she watched him leave. Then she slowly made her way back to the counter.

“Hé, Hawke!” Emile glided over and handed her a tray of drinks and a paper bag as he reeled off their regular order.  “One Nevarran spiced chai, one espresso, one black drip coffee and one Arlathan apple spice, and one mixed box of Orlesian petit-fours… hey, are you okay?”

She hauled her face into a smile. “Yeah,” she lied. “I just remembered I haven’t done my taxes yet.”

Emile’s face fell. “Ah merde, I haven’t either! My father will have a fit…” He pulled his phone from his pocket and began madly tapping at the screen.

Hawke grimaced guiltily and backed away from the counter. “Er, sorry! I’ll, uh, see you later.” She hurried away from the counter and left the cafe, but as soon as she was on the street again, she let her smile fall away.

Her chest felt heavy, like someone had dropped a pile of rocks into her rib cage. Why was Fenris being so cold? Maybe she’d said something stupid last night that she didn’t remember. She had been pretty drunk by the end of the night. Maybe they’d argued about something

Or maybe she was just a deluded idiot, and he wasn’t actually interested in her at all.

She pulled her sunglasses down to hide her burning eyes. It doesn’t matter. He’s just a boy, she told herself. A handsome, intelligent boy with hidden depths, but still just a boy. As Isabela would say, boys come and go - literally and metaphorically - and they were imminently replaceable.

Maybe if she kept telling this to herself, the stupid childish pain in her chest would go away.

Maybe if she kept telling this to herself, she would start to believe it.

********************

Hawke slid Fenris’s water with lime across the bar. “Hey,” she said.

He nodded. “Hawke,” he greeted, but she’d already glided away to the other side of the bar.

Fenris watched her wistfully for a moment, then lifted his water and turned around on his stool to face the rest of the pub. The Hanged Man was relatively quiet, as was usual for a Tuesday; they didn’t do karaoke on Tuesdays, so the customary mix of 80s new wave and 90s grunge was pumping through the speakers and carrying the conversational susurrus of the laid-back post-work crowd.

Fenris sighed quietly. He slid his hand into his pocket and idly toyed with his phone. This was the first contact he’d had with Hawke since he’d run into her at Athenril’s cafe on Sunday. She hadn’t sent him a single text since then.

She’d only started texting him regularly about a week ago, but it was odd how quickly he’d become accustomed to the presence of her sunny swearing and ridiculous typos on his phone. Since the run-in on Sunday, she’d gone completely radio silent. It was…

Necessary, he told himself. It was necessary. She was getting too close, and Fenris couldn’t let that happen. The closer she got, the more dangerous it was for them both.

He’d been a fool at the party on Saturday. On the balcony during that moment of weakness, he’d told her Danarius’s name, and it was a foolish fucking mistake. Knowing even that much information was a risk to them both. What if she tried to Google Danarius, and someone was spying on her search histories and tracked her down to get information about Fenris’s whereabouts? Fenris used a VPN for all his online browsing, but Rynne didn’t seem the type to care about that kind of thing. Fenris wasn’t ready for Danarius and his men to come after him. He needed more time.

If Hawke learned anything more about Fenris, it could compromise his goals. His revenge would be at stake. Worse yet, Hawke herself would be in danger, and Fenris’s blood ran cold at the thought of any harm coming to her.

He briefly turned back to the bar and lifted his water. As he sipped from his glass, he glanced at Hawke again; she was leaning her elbows on the bar and giggling with a pair of businessmen.

“Puppy eyes.”

He turned and met Piper’s shrewd amber gaze. “What was that?”

“Puppy eyes,” she repeated. “That’s what Merrill would call your face right now.” Her eyebrows were lifted and her lips were pursed; her expression was the definition of unimpressed.

Fenris frowned and turned away. “There are no puppy eyes.”

Piper snorted. She leaned over the bar and stared at the side of his face. “This would be cute if we were all sixteen. News flash: we’re not. We’re all fucking adults.”

Fenris refused to look at her. He restlessly ran his thumb across his phone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do,” Piper retorted. For a long moment, she stared fixedly at him as though he was a bizarre piece of art, then straightened up and wafted away.

Fenris scowled at her slender back, then replaced his glass of water on the bar and went to sit by the door of the Hanged Man. Only one bouncer was needed on Tuesdays to monitor the inside the pub, but Fenris couldn’t help but wish he could sit outside today.

An agonizing few hours later, after the waitstaff had cleaned up and gone home, Fenris made his way to the bar while Piper and Hawke were starting to lay out the cash. But before he could say goodnight, Piper raised her eyebrows at him.

“I have to leave early,” she said.

Hawke’s head whipped up at her words. “What? Since when?”

“Since two hours ago,” Piper said pertly. “Cullen got off work early tonight, so guess who else will be getting off early?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Hawke groaned and rolled her eyes. “Wow. That was a stretch, even for you.”

Piper snickered and bumped Hawke’s hip. “It was clever and you know it.” She smiled as Hawke chuckled, then turned back to Fenris. “Can you help Hawke to count the cash?”

Fenris tensed, and Hawke’s grin immediately slid away. “What? No! I can do it on my own-”

Piper flapped her hands. “No, Fenris can help.” She looked at him. “I asked Varric already, he’s paying you for an extra hour. That works out for everyone, right?” Piper’s tone was light and friendly, but her eyes were like daggers on his face.

He clenched his jaw and gave her a hard stare, but her strong chin was belligerently lifted, and… well, the whole point of being here was the money. If he was being paid for an extra hour…

He turned his gaze to Hawke. “I’ll help. Tell me what to do, and it is done.”

Hawke stared at him for a second, then smiled tightly and shoved a pile of twenties toward him. “Fine. I hope you can do math.”

He frowned slightly. “Of course I can.” He sat on a bar stool across from her and lifted the pile of bills.

“Good,” Hawke said. “Because I can’t. Pipes is the brains of this operation.”

Piper laughed. “Nice try, bitch. You’re brilliant too.” She checked her phone, then hitched her purse onto her shoulder and waved at them. “Cullen’s just outside. Have a good night!”

“Bye. I hate you,” Hawke called to her departing back.

“Love you too!” Piper chirped, and then she was gone, leaving Fenris and Hawke alone.

Hawke stared blankly at him for a second, then shot him an alarmingly bright smile. “Who wants a drink?” She turned away and grabbed a lower-shelf bottle of tequila, then pulled out two shot glasses.

“Oh. Er - perhaps just one-” Fenris said dumbly, but Hawke was already pouring him a shot.

The pushed the tiny glass of tequila across the bar to him, then poured one for herself and immediately drank it. “Want a piece of peach with that?” she asked. “Piper calls it Fen’harel’s Fuzzy Cock. Well, she does when we add some lime juice to it. Three ingredients makes it a cocktail.” She winked at him as she poured herself a second shot.

“No,” Fenris said. “No peach is necessary.” He downed the shot and winced at the harsh burn of cheap liquor, then began counting the stack of twenties.

Hawke chattered the entire time they were counting the cash. Fenris listened as she complained about her favourite food stand in Lowtown closing last week and an outlandish anime she’d just finished watching and how she was planning a trip to Rivain in a couple of months. He watched with no small amount of wonder as she managed to swiftly count the cash and write the amounts on a spreadsheet while simultaneously talking and pouring them shot after shot of tequila.

By the time the task was almost done, Fenris was feeling a little hazy from the drinks, and he wasn’t sure how helpful he had ultimately been. “You may want to check this,” he confessed as he pushed a pile of dimes toward her. “I counted twenty-three, but I… I may have miscounted.”

She grinned at him. Her coppery eyes were brilliant from the booze. “Some helper you are,” she teased. She quickly counted the coins again, her face briefly furrowing into a frown as she counted them, then gave him a satisfied smile. “You’re good,” she said, and she wrote the amount on her spreadsheet, then began to tally it all up with a calculator.

Fenris watched her as she worked. She hummed to herself as she tapped in the numbers, some song that was vaguely familiar to him from earlier that night. Her face was peaceful and her tiny smile was sweet, and…

Venhedis, he wished his life really were this simple. If only he really was just a man working at a pub with a beautiful woman who hummed happy songs while she counted the cash. But this kind of simplicity, of uncomplicated peace and quiet… This was as foreign to Fenris as his native language was to her, and there was no point pining for something so bright when all his future held was blood.

She looked up from her spreadsheet and tapped at the computer over the till, then punched her fist in the air. “Yesss. Counted the cash while drunk. Pipes and Varric will be so proud! Or horrified. I can’t decide.” She grinned at him, but her smile froze when she met his eyes.

He stared at her, unable to breathe and unable to look away from her stricken expression. Then she dropped her eyes and began replacing the cash into the drawer. “Fenris, can you put the bigger bills into that envelope, we’ll lock it up separately in the safe-”

He reached out and took her hand. “Hawke,” he blurted, “I… I am sorry.”

Her hands went still, and her eyes darted back to his face. “Sorry for what?” she said faintly.

He hesitated as he realized that he wasn’t entirely sure what to apologize for. He hadn’t forced Hawke to talk to him, after all. She’d flirted with him and garnered his unwavering attention without any particular encouragement from him. He hadn’t asked her to be his friend. He hadn’t asked her to become the first person he’d trusted in a very long time. If he was sorry for anything, it was that he’d indulged her incessant attempts at conversation and gotten them both into this uncomfortable position in the first place.  

But he couldn’t tell her that, not without explaining why they couldn’t be… whatever she clearly wanted this to be. Finally he settled on a cheap diversion. “You’re a beautiful woman. Is there no one else who has your attention?”

Her eyebrows leapt high on her forehead, and she smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that first part.”

He gave her a chiding look. “I’m a Tevinter gangster with years’ worth of blood on my hands,” he said bluntly. “None of those things bother you?”

She turned her hand in his grip and squeezed his fingers. “You’re not a gangster anymore,” she said.

A wriggle of guilt burrowed into Fenris’s belly, but Hawke wasn’t finished. “Besides, if I was interested in anyone else, I’d be with them. I’m only interested in you.”

He stared at her with growing puzzlement. “Why?” he said hoarsely. Now that he thought about it, he genuinely wasn’t sure why she was so drawn to him. He wasn’t even particularly nice to her. Kaffas, he’d been a downright ass the last time he’d seen her, and purposely so.

She raised an eyebrow and smiled slowly at him. “What, you want me to list all the reasons?”

With horror, he realized that it indeed sounded like he’d been soliciting compliments. “No,” he said hastily, but it was too late; she was already pouring more shots and talking.

“You’re smart. You’re funny when you’re in the mood. When you’re not in the mood, your angry face makes me want to rip my clothes off. I…” She trailed off and ran a hand through her tufty hair. “You get me, Fenris. Or I thought you did.” She downed the shot and poured herself another. “It also doesn’t hurt that you’re fucking gorgeous.” She tilted her head. “Why are you asking me this? Do you like me?”

With a slightly shaking hand, he gulped the shot she’d poured, then watched as she filled his glass again. “That is not the issue,” he hedged. “Whether I like you or not is irrel-”

She bluntly cut him off. “It’s a simple question, Fenris,” she said. “Do you like me, or don’t you? I can’t tell, you see. I need you to break it down for me like the idiot that I am.”

He shook his head in growing exasperation. This was not where he’d meant this conversation to go. Where… where had he meant this conversation to go? He couldn’t quite remember.

He lifted the shot glass to his lips. “We shouldn’t be together,” he insisted, then downed the shot.

She frowned, then placed her glass on the bar with a clatter and poured two more. “I told you stuff about me that no one else knows. And I thought… I thought it was the same for you. Was I wrong?”

“N-no,” Fenris said. He was feeling increasingly agitated. He was starting to get the distinct sense that he was being interrogated; ironic, since he was the one who had clumsily started this conversation.

“Then what’s the problem?” she asked. “Do do you like me or not? That’s all that-”

“Yes,” he finally snapped. “Yes, I do, all right? I like you, Hawke. I think about you, and… in fact, I’ve been able to think of little else.” He snatched the shot from the bar and gulped it in one big swallow, then slammed the glass on the bar and glared at her.

Her mouth had dropped into a comical little ‘o’. Fenris dragged a hand through his hair. “Why are you staring at me like that?” he demanded.

Her expression slowly lifted into a brilliant smile. “I didn’t expect you to say ‘yes’,” she said. Then she burst into laughter.

Fenris planted one elbow on the bar and pointed at her accusingly. “You see? This - your - you laugh like this and it… You drive me mad with your incessant flirting and your laughing and that macabre little dress of yours with the skulls-”

“Oh, that dress,” she drawled. Her voice was vibrant with mirth, like laughter smoothed and curled into speech. “You liked that dress, did you?”

“I…” He buried his spinning head in his hands, then scowled at her again. “I wanted to peel it off and watch it pooling around your feet,” he growled.

Her eyes widened, and Fenris watched with a nearly-vindictive rush of satisfaction as her cheeks turned pink. “Well, fuck me sideways,” she breathed.

Her evocative curse painted a brilliant picture in his mind: Hawke naked and sweaty, stretched on her side while he slid up behind her and stroked the inside of her thigh…  

A roar of heat blazed through his chest from throat to groin, and he dragged in a heavy breath. His eyes were fixed on her lips, her plump and parted lips, and suddenly it felt like he couldn’t catch his breath, not even if he was panting for it.

Then Hawke lunged toward him and hooked her hand around the back of his neck, and before he could do more than gasp in surprise, she was kissing him.

Hawke was kissing him. Hawke’s lips, her fingers on his neck, it was… she was…  

The next thing he knew, he was on his feet with one hand gripping her short dark hair as he leaned over the bar and kissed her back, and she was whimpering against his lips like the wanton little thing she was. There was a faint clatter of coins as she splayed her palm on the bar - the bar, the fucking blasted bar that stood between them, separating them and stopping them from doing something stupid-

She petted his neck and released a tiny sob of want when he nipped her lower lip. “Fenris,” she begged. “I want - I…”

“Come here,” he breathed. This was a foolish thing to do, an act of complete idiocy, but Fenris couldn’t stop: he was drunk on her, intoxicated by the reddened look of her lips and the taste of tequila on her tongue and the sheer shining joy in her eyes, and he wanted this more than he’d ever wanted anything in his cursed life.

Hawke smiled against his lips, then pushed away from the bar and hefted herself onto its surface, and Fenris gaped at her as she clumsily scrambled over the bar and onto her feet beside him.

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket. “Now, where were we?”

He didn’t waste his breath replying. He dragged her against his body and slid his thigh between her legs, then swallowed her rapturous cry with another kiss.

She slid her tongue against his own, then broke away with a moan as he slipped his fingers into her loose camisole and up along her ribs. “Fucking Maker’s balls,” she whined, then she gasped and thrust her hips against his leg as he snuck his fingers under her bra and pinched her nipple.

He breathed hard as he palmed her pert little breast. His body was thrumming, heavy and pulsing with the strength of his need for her, and he hadn’t felt this way in years. He hadn’t wanted this in years, not since he’d had the tattoos branded on his skin. The tattoos represented so many layers of resistance, of pain and emptiness and regret. Especially since leaving Tevinter, Fenris hadn’t wanted to be seen with these metaphorical scars staining his skin.

But in this moment, he would strip himself bare in the space of a second if it meant Hawke would strip herself as well.

He carefully licked her lower lip. “Let’s leave,” he whispered.

She pressed her lips together, then gasped again as he pinched her nipple harder. “Oh fuck,” she whined. “I… Fenris, we have to lock up the cash, I can’t just…”

He growled in frustration, and she laughed breathily. “You making that sound does not make this easier for me,” she panted. She pushed gently at his chest.

He reluctantly allowed her to step away, then penned her between his body and the bar. “A renegade with a work ethic?” he whispered in her ear.

She shivered prettily, and her hands were clumsy as she collected the cash. “Exactly,” she replied. “Never let it be said that I shirked my duties to this lovable dump.” She shoved the bigger bills into an envelope and replaced the remaining money in the drawer, then picked it all up and shifted away from him. “I’ll be super quick, I promise.”

He allowed her to move away, then shamelessly watched as she hurried to Varric’s office and let herself inside. While Hawke locked up the cash in Varric’s safe, Fenris pulled up his hood and wandered restlessly toward the door.

This was a bad idea, and he knew it. It was stupid and irresponsible, and he suspected that he was going to regret it tomorrow, but it just felt so fucking right. The lingering feeling of Hawke’s hands on his skin, stroking his neck and pressing against his chest - it warmed and riled him the more he thought about it. He thought about her lips and the sharp taste of her tongue, and it was so fucking wrong and selfish and unfair, and he was powerless to stop.

The distinct click of a lock caught his attention. He turned to see Hawke hurrying toward him with her phone in her hand. “I called an Uber,” she said. “It’ll be here in two minutes.”

Two minutes. He had two minutes to do the right thing. To tell her this was a mistake, that he was a complete and utter ass whose only legacy was a trail of bodies and blood and death, and that she should write him off altogether…  

She slid her palms along his abs and lifted herself on her toes. “Kiss me while we wait,” she whispered.

He instinctively gripped her hips as she leaned into his chest. “You’re very demanding,” he said.

“Of course I am. This is everything I wanted,” she retorted. She bit her lip, and her gaze drifted up to his eyes. “You’re all I think about, too,” she murmured.

And just like that, Fenris was sunk. His resistance and his reasons were gone, obliterated by the woman in his arms, and in the muddled mess of his sex-scrambled mind, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

In this moment, all he cared about was her: the charming and infuriating woman in his arms, with all her merriness and her melancholy. And for tonight, Fenris was hers.

[strawberry-milktea]

As a gay, trans Christian, I believe you need to reconsider the way you speak to gay and trans Christians. If you reread the Bible, you'll realise that there's no trace of the biological essentialism you've quoted, and if you look at the Hebrew behind the classic clobber verses, you'll discover that most of them are about either underage sex, prostitution, or relationships after a spouse's death. I really hope you'll change the way in which you follow our welcoming, open, and affirming Christ!

Hello,

I actually have looked at the original language regarding verses about homosexuality to see how they align with the English translations. Your message is not the first time this argument has been brought up, please consider taking a look at this previously answered ask where I went into more detail about this. This ask discussed New Testament verses that address the topic of homosexuality:

http://strawberry-milktea.tumblr.com/post/158614773563/there-are-plenty-of-gay-people-who-dont-get

Since you specifically mention “Hebrew” I’m assuming you are referring to the two Leviticus verses mentioned in the Old Testament:

“You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination.” - Leviticus 18:22

“If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them.” - Leviticus 20:13

(And as a side note, before anyone comes on anon accusing me of supporting violence against gay people because of what Leviticus 20:13 says, I do not. Under Mosaic Law, the death penalty was assigned to a variety of sins such as engaging in homosexuality, adultery, bestiality, making sacrifices to other gods, and committing murder, to give some examples. Christ’s coming as Savior in which He died on the cross as an atoning sacrifice and resurrected makes it possible for us to be set free from the death penalty that sin brings. An example of an account where we see this illustrated is in the case of the woman caught in adultery who was about to be stoned. Under Mosaic law, she deserved that punishment, but Christ stood between her and her accusers. He protected her from death and told her to go and sin no more, painting the picture of Him standing in our place, saving us from our rightful punishment, and His expectation that we will not return to and embrace the sins He died for)

Moving back to the original discussion, what is being said in these verses is very concise and direct.. there is no mention or hint whatsoever at underage sex, prostitution, getting remarried after one’s spouse died, etc. in either of these verses. You’re basically saying something is there that isn’t, my guess because you read an article or discussion from someone who wants to justify homosexuality and claim it’s not a sin, so they’ve contorted scripture and tried to add context that isn’t there. And because you are gay and trans, you want to believe this to be true.

If you want to use the “mistranslation” claim, even taking a look at a Hebrew text analysis of the verses in question shows consistency with the English translations.

For Leviticus 18:22 -https://biblehub.com/text/leviticus/18-22.htm

For Leviticus 20:13 -https://biblehub.com/text/leviticus/20-13.htm

The order of the phrases is a little odd because it’s going between Hebrew and English, but the meaning is still clear. I am by no means someone who is a scholar in the Hebrew language, but you don’t have to be one to see that the meaning of each word and the meaning conveyed by stringing these words together is directly referring to engaging in same sex relations. Click on each word in the verses in the links above and see the meaning/analysis if you don’t believe me.. in fact, I urge you to do so. Don’t just take my word for it.

I understand how hard it can be to overcome sin. Homosexuality or transgenderism aren’t my struggles, so I can’t personally understand exactly how you’re feeling and how painful the idea of giving those things up must feel to you. But I struggle with other types of sins, so I know how your flesh tries to convince you that sin will fulfill you and the enemy will do all he can to make you believe that something isn’t a sin, when in reality it is. One of the ways he commonly does this is by leading people to jump through hoops to find “alternate” meanings in verses that describe what God defined as sin in an attempt to convince themselves that they can be Christian and continue embracing a particular sin. I’ve seen the same pattern done with the sin of witchcraft from people who claim to be “Christian witches”. And whenever I see this, there is so much reaching and contortion to claim a verse is saying what it isn’t when it makes far more sense to accept the verses for what they actually say in a direct and simple way. But people reject this and come up with involved contexts that don’t exist and claim “it’s a mistranslation” because it’s easier to convince themselves that these spiritually dangerous lies are true than it is to accept difficult truths that require sacrificing sin.

I really hope that you understand that I say all of this out of care for you. I’m genuinely worried for you because you’re accepting deception for the sake of holding onto sin. Engaging in homosexuality is mentioned as a sin in multiple places, throughout both the Old and New Testaments. It would be both false and unrealistic (as well as reaching extremely far) to claim every verse about homosexuality conveniently has a hidden context and that the verse isn’t actually saying what it’s directly saying. We can’t contort what His Word says and how He defined sin to suit ourselves. What you’re doing is the same as if I were to claim verses talking about anger being a sin aren’t really saying it’s a sin because I struggle with anger and I want to continue being angry without feeling there’s anything wrong about it. Or like me trying to claim that as an unmarried heterosexual person, I can have premarital sex and that God was really referring to “something else” when confronted with verses making it clear that sex outside of marriage is a sin, simply because I experience desire for sexual intimacy at times and I want to feel okay about acting on it. It’s a wrong and dangerous approach no matter what sin is in question.. We can’t pick and choose what is and isn’t a sin based on what we think is “acceptable” according to our standards. When you decide to follow Christ, it just doesn’t work that way because His standards become yours - including what constitutes sin.

We can’t control what sins we are weak to, but we can control whether or not we act on them. In your case, you most likely didn’t choose to experience same sex attraction or the desire to be the opposite sex, but you can choose whether or not to act on these desires. And I hope you can come to realize that no sin will ever fulfill, but only serves to spiritually destroy and separate us from Him. A relationship with Christ and eternal life is worth the temporary sacrifice of leaving behind any type of sin.

I appreciate the respectful way you approached me with this message and I hope my words were conveyed to you in the same way. Feel free to message me again if you have any questions or wish to talk about about anything.

[cherryblossomshadow]

#THANK YOU OP #do yall realize that alt right organizations have similar fundamental goals to far leftist ones? #i myself am a leftist. but murdering one evil person is cutting a head off a hydra. #no. i dont have faith in the police. but there are politicians who rose from the ground up to keep them in check. #ive seen it firsthand. grassroots activists being elected and making real change. change that can be easily reversed with violent extremism #am i saying we shouldnt be militant? no. am i saying these ppl dont deserve to die? imho they absolutely do. #but how would acting on that opinion be any better than supporting the death penalty? how is it for us to decide who dies?

#riddler was a representation of an extremist that could be right or left wing. id describe him as a libertarian. #but when you throw a certain level of violence into your rhetoric it loses its meaning. you regress. there is no end goal but punishment. #thats what bruce had to wake up to. he and riddler werent working toward anything. #they were just taking out their trauma on ppl they felt deserved it. destroying lives. no one was MAKING anything.

#a good example: when reál tried to convince Bruce to get into philanthropy and he largely ignored her. #even alfred mentioned a legacy of the Waynes distributing their wealth to those who need it #and bruce responded that 'this [being batman] IS my familys legacy'. #batman and riddler both were cutting off hydra heads and creating a cesspool of further crime and violence as a result.

#its a fantastic story of vengeance vs justice. both batman and riddler were mostly RIGHT in their opinions #but their methods were counterproductive and morally questionable to say the least #but i do like how complex the themes were in this movie to where you can see riddler as an antihero. bc he and year 2 batman ARE the same. #and it proves too how slippery that slope is.

its easy to agree with riddler. its harder to take a look at yourself and ask why

(tags courtesy of @bluinary)

I got an interesting reply today. To sum it up, the user wrote, “what ‘toxic beliefs’ does [The Riddler] spread? That people in positions of power should stop lying and stealing?”.

Honestly, I get what that user was trying to say. People in positions of power should be called out when they abuse said power, I agree with that. What I’m arguing is that normalizing what the Riddler represents is a dangerous path and completely misses the point of the movie. 

Batman says at the end that he needs to be more than just vengeance and fear. You can’t save the city by just terrorizing it, you need to be a force for positive change and inspire people to do better. That’s what Bella Real represents, someone willing to change Gotham for the better but through legal means. That’s also why Gotham was getting worse despite having Batman, Bruce needed to learn that he wasn’t going to change things by just beating the shit out of criminals. 

Also, I want to push back on this idea that the Riddler was right. You can’t just go around and kill people as a means to justice. Why even have laws then? In fact, Riddler arguably made things worse by his actions:

1) By killing Carmine Falcone, he cost Batman and the GCPD their chance at cracking down on the criminal underworld. He also made the situation worse since he created a power vacuum, which will lead to even more violence and chaos. 

2) Point 1 can also apply to all the other Riddler victims. 

3) Killing those in power sounds good on paper, but doesn’t actually change the situation. Falcone dies, Penguin takes over. Crime is just as bad as it was at the start of the movie, likely even worse now. Instead of any of these people being forced to testify to the court, they’re dead and they took their secrets with them. The GCPD could’ve made a case against the Falcone crime family, but Riddler killed all the potential witnesses. 

4) Riddler deemed the entire Gotham political scene as being part of the problem. By doing so, he also would’ve killed Bella Real, who could potentially make Gotham a better city through legal means.

5) Riddler blew up the dams and flooded the city. Do I even have to explain why this was worse for the people of Gotham?

Last but not least…not to get too political, but normalizing the Riddler gets a bit too close to normalizing terrorism. Actually, fuck it, it is normalizing terrorism. Just remember, Paul Dano said he studied the world of toxic masculinity in preparation for this role, which most likely means he also studied the alt-right. I’m just saying, just because the character is going after the corrupt doesn’t mean he’s going about it the right way. 

(Side note: I feel like I’ve written this exact post about the Punisher. I also feel the same way about Frank, although I do like the character. I want to make it clear…liking character ≠ accepting their beliefs)

[patriotsnet]

What Republicans Are Against Donald Trump

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/what-republicans-are-against-donald-trump/

What Republicans Are Against Donald Trump

Trump Aides Aim To Build Gop Opposition To Afghan Refugees

Republicans face backlash for speaking out against Trump ahead of impeachment trial

WASHINGTON As tens of thousands of Afghan refugees fleeing the Taliban arrive in the U.S., a handful of former Trump administration officials are working to turn Republicans against them.

The former officials are writing position papers, appearing on conservative television outlets and meeting privately with GOP lawmakers all in an effort to turn the collapse of Afghanistan into another opportunity to push a hard-line immigration agenda.

It is a collaboration based on mutual conviction, said Stephen Miller, the architect of President Donald Trumps most conservative immigration policies and among those engaged on the issue. My emphasis has been in talking to members of Congress to build support for opposing the Biden administrations overall refugee plans.

The approach isnt embraced by all Republican leaders, with some calling it mean-spirited and at odds with Christian teachings that are important to the white evangelicals who play a critical role in the partys base. The strategy relies on tactics that were commonplace during Trumps tenure and that turned off many voters, including racist tropes, fear-mongering and false allegations.

And the hard-liners pay little heed to the human reality unfolding in Afghanistan, where those who worked with Americans during the war and many others are desperate to flee for fear they could be killed by the new Taliban regime.

This Retiring Republican Just Handed More Power To Donald Trump

I dont believe he can ever be president again, Gonzalez told The New York Times of Trump. Most of my political energy will be spent working on that exact goal. Of the broader GOP, Gonzalez said. politically the environment is so toxic, especially in our own party right now.

Know what else is true? That Gonzalez, by retiring from Congress, hands Trump yet another win, a further demonstration that crossing the former president always ends badly for those who do it.

Gonzalez, a former star wide receiver at Ohio State University, was widely seen as a rising star in the party both in the state and nationally when he was elected in 2018. But unlike the vast majority of his House Republican colleagues, Gonzalez never gave over to the utter fealty demanded by Trump. And in the wake of the January 6 riot at the US Capitol, Gonzalez was one of 10 House Republicans who voted with Democrats to impeach the President.

Gonzalezs decision to walk away rather than fight back will be taken a win by Trump and his forces. In fact, the president was already busy taking a victory lap Friday morning.

So while Gonzalezs retirement is being touted in some circles as an act of principle, the practical political effect of his decision is the opposite.

Weve learned the wrong lesson as a party, Gonzalez told the Times, but beyond that, and more importantly, its horribly irresponsible and destructive for the country.

His retirement empowers those irresponsible and destructive forces.

Republicans Who Voted To Convict Trump Face Censure At Home

North Carolina Senator Richard Burr is the latest to be censured by local Republicans for his impeachment trial vote.

State Republican leaders in North Carolina voted to censure Senator Richard Burr over his vote to convict Donald Trump during last weeks impeachment trial, making Burr the latest to be rebuked for opposing the former United States president.

Burr, a third-term North Carolina Republican who has said he does not plan to seek re-election in 2022, was one of just seven out of 50 Republican senators to vote to convict Trump for inciting his supporters January 6 attack on Congress, which left five people dead.

The North Carolina Republican Party Central Committee voted unanimously to censure Burr, saying it agrees with the strong majority of Republicans that the effort lies outside the United States Constitution.

Trumps second Senate impeachment trial concluded on Saturday with a 57-43 vote in favour of convicting. The tally fell short of the two-thirds needed to secure conviction.

North Carolina Republican Chairman Michael Whatley condemned Burr for voting against the former president, calling the move a shocking and disappointing abdication of his duty to voters.

The Central Committee of the released a statement following their unanimous vote to censure Senator Richard Burr for his impeachment vote. #ncpol#ncgov#ncsen

NCGOP

Read Also: When Is The Last Time Republicans Controlled Congress

Trump Calls For ‘no Violence’ As Congress Moves To Impeach Him For Role In Riot

This time, there will be more. Some Republican senators have called on Trump to resign, and even Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell said he is undecided at this point.

Trump’s impeachment won’t lead to his removal even if he is convicted because of the timeline. The Senate is adjourned until Tuesday. The next day, Biden will be sworn in as the 46th president. But there’s another penalty the Constitution allows for as a result of a Senate conviction that could be appealing to some Republican senators banning Trump from holding “office” again.

While there is some debate as to the definition of “office” in the Constitution and whether that would apply to running for president or even Congress, that kind of public rebuke would send a strong message that Republicans are ready to move on from Trumpism.

Republican Leaders Start Making Sense Although In Small Numbers

Joe Biden won Michigan in the 2020 elections by a large margin. Despite this, the Republican leaders led an investigation trying to find discrepancies in the election but found nothing.

Michigans GOP-led Senate is now all against Donald Trump. Michigans Senate Republicans issued a report calling Trump claims outright deception.;

Even though state Republicans have rebutted Donald Trump, they continue to support new voting laws in the State. This depicts that voter suppression is not only a Trump priority but the Republicans agenda.

Then came the heroics of the former Kentucky Secretary of State Trey Grayson, who co-authored a report about the Arizona election recount and criticized it, saying the contractors were inexperienced and unqualified.

Trumps former attorney general William Barr, a hardline supporter of Donald Trump, who was forced to resign due to his failure of unfolding the Hunter Biden controversy before elections, also criticized Trump to a large extent. The erstwhile ally of Trump heavily criticized Trumps claims saying, It was all bullshit.

If a highly conservative Republican like Barr is not buying the theories of Trump, the ideas must have something controversial in them.

Texas and Florida governors are the in full motion to promote Trumps America first vision in their respective state with voter suppression laws, anti-immigration rhetoric and enhancing guns rights

Recommended Reading: When Did Political Parties Switch Platforms

Trump Celebrates Retirement Of Gop Congressman Who Voted For His Impeachment

Former President Donald Trump celebrated the retirement of a Republican congressman who voted for his impeachment, as the GOP continues its purge of those who have pushed back against lies surrounding the 2020 election.

Rep. Anthony Gonzalez, R-Ohio, told the New York Times he would not be running for reelection in 2022, citing threats to his family and a tough primary race against a Trump White House aide challenging him who has the former presidents endorsement.

I dont believe he can ever be president again, Gonzalez told the Times, referring to Trump. Most of my political energy will be spent working on that exact goal.

The outgoing congressman, who turns 37 this week, called Trump a cancer for the country.

Gonzalez was one of 10 House Republicans who voted to impeach Trump for his role in the violence of Jan. 6. He is the first of those Republican lawmakers to announce his retirement.

A former star wide receiver at Ohio State University, Gonzalez said in a Jan. 13 statement after his vote that Trump helped organize and incite a mob that attacked Congress and abandoned his post while many members asked for help, thus endangering all present.

In the immediate aftermath of the vote, Jim Renacci, chair of the Medina County Republican Party in Ohio, told BuzzFeed News he was slammed with residents calling for Anthony Gonzalez to step down, be recalled, and/or primaried.

____

In Gop Poll From Hell Republicans Say They Want Donald Trump Jr To Be President In 2024

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A recurring nightmare among millions of Americans is that come 2024, Donald Trump will forget the fact that he actually hated being president, decide to run again, and win. Seriously, can you think of a more horrifying scenario, except perhaps falling through a sidewalk into a rat-filled chasm,;which some people might still prefer? We maintain that you cannot. But an equally terrifying, skin-crawling situation would definitely be to turn on the TV on January 20, 2025, and see Donald Trump Jr. being sworn in as president of the United States, which a number of Republican voters apparently actually want to happen.

The poll, which was conducted between July 6 and 8, did not include Donald Trump Senior, who maintains an inexplicable grip on voters despite the mass-death stuff, an attempt to overturn the results of the 2020 election, and a mental state that suggests he should be in a home or studied by a team of Swiss doctors.

And the fact that Don Jr. came out on top is not where the scary news ends. Because apparently if Republicans cant have Sheep Killer over here, their second-favorite choice is Florida governor Ron DeSantis, the man currently responsible for this:

If you would like to receive the Levin Report in your inbox daily, click;here;to subscribe.

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Richard Burr North Carolina

Burr, who has said he will not seek re-election, had previously voted to dismiss the impeachment trial on constitutional grounds. Burr’s term expires in 2022.

“I have listened to the arguments presented by both sides and considered the facts. The facts are clear,” explained Burr in a statement.

“By what he did and by what he did not do, President Trump violated his oath of office to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States,” he explained, adding that he didn’t come to “this decision lightly.”

Supreme Court Goes Bonkers So Do Republican Governors

2 Times In 2 Days Republicans Vote Against President Donald Trump | The Last Word | MSNBC

Nonetheless, those in influential Republican circles, who are actually in a position to bring Donald Trump to justice, are still mostly denying the admission of his guilt.;

The reluctance to establish a January 6 commission is a classic example in this regard.

The Republicans bid to entertain voter suppression laws in different states, following Trumps footprints, also decries the same.

While Democrats control the White House and the national legislature, Republican governors in different red states are introducing sweeping measures to second his agenda.

Republican governors such as Greg Abbott from Texas and Ron DeSantis from Florida are as conservative as Trump. Recently, the Texas governor signed seven laws, enhancing gun possession laws, proclaiming to protect the second amendment.

The Florida governor also banned local government officials from further regulating guns in the state.

Expansion of guns rights is not the only way the governors are trying to please the former Republican president.

In fact, their policy approaches towards immigration, social media, and voter suppression laws also depict their will to compromise the national interest at the expense of promoting conservatism.

The top US justices of the United States are also playing their part to extend conservatism at the national scale.;

The top bench, manned by Donald Trump, recently failed to protect the voting rights of marginalized groups.

Also Check: What Is Difference Between Democrats And Republicans

Will Not Support Trumps Re

Former President George W. Bush: Although he has not spoken about whom he will vote for in November, people familiar with Mr. Bushs thinking have said it wont be Mr. Trump. Mr. Bush did not endorse him in 2016.

Senator Mitt Romney of Utah: Mr. Romney has long been critical of Mr. Trump, and was the only Republican senator to vote to convict him during his impeachment trial. Mr. Romney is still mulling over whom he will vote for in November he opted for his wife, Ann, four years ago but he is said to be sure it wont be the president.

John Bolton, the former national security adviser: As he rolled out his recently published book, The Room Where It Happened, Mr. Bolton said in multiple interviews that he would not vote for Mr. Trump in November. He added that he would write in the name of a conservative Republican, but that he was not sure which one.

Gov. Phil Scott of Vermont: Mr. Scott has said multiple times this summer that he will not be voting for the president, a position that he also took in 2016. He says he has not yet decided whether or not he will vote for Mr. Biden.

William H. McRaven, a retired four-star Navy admiral: Several Republican admirals and generals have publicly announced they will not support the president. In an interview with The New York Times, Admiral McRaven, who directed the raid that killed Osama bin Laden, said, This fall, its time for new leadership in this country Republican, Democrat or independent.

Gop Leader Mccarthy: Trump ‘bears Responsibility’ For Violence Won’t Vote To Impeach

Some ambitious Republican senators have never been as on board the Trump train as the more feverish GOP members in the House, and the former might be open to convicting Trump. But their ambition cuts two ways on the one hand, voting to ban Trump opens a lane to carry the Republican mantle in 2024 and be the party’s new standard-bearer, but, on the other, it has the potential to alienate many of the 74 million who voted for Trump, and whose votes they need.

It’s a long shot that Trump would ultimately be convicted, because 17 Republicans would need to join Democrats to get the two-thirds majority needed for a conviction. But it’s growing clearer that a majority of the Senate will vote to convict him, reflecting the number of Americans who are in favor of impeachment, disapproved of the job Trump has done and voted for his opponent in the 2020 presidential election.

Correction Jan. 14, 2021

A previous version of this story incorrectly said Rep. Peter Meijer is a West Point graduate. Meijer attended West Point, but he is a graduate of Columbia University.

Recommended Reading: Main Differences Between Republicans And Democrats

Gop Primary Challengers Line Up Against Texas Gov Abbott Despite Trumps Endorsement Yahoo News

Texas Gov. Greg Abbott has $55 million banked for his re-election campaign, a 73 percent approval rating among Republicans, and an endorsement from former President Donald Trump.

And, thanks to restrictive abortion and voting bills Abbott has signed in recent months, Texas has become an epicenter of the national conservative causes that rally the GOP base.

None of that, though, has stopped a crop of critics including Allen West, a former Florida congressman with a right-wing following who briefly served as the Texas GOP chairman from announcing plans to challenge Abbott in next years primary.

Their complaint isnt so much that Abbott is not a conservative. Its that hes not the hard-line conservative they believe that Texans crave particularly when compared with some Republican peers and their hands-off approach to the coronavirus pandemic.

Hes not Ron DeSantis, and hes not Kristi Noem, one veteran of Texas GOP politics said, referencing the governors of Florida and South Dakota whove upped their national profiles by resisting extended lockdowns, mask and vaccine mandates and other restrictions to limit the spread of Covid.

Story continues

They dont have any money, they dont have any fundraising ability, said John Wittman, Abbotts former communications director who now runs a public affairs firm in Austin. They are all fighting over the same 10 to 12 percent of Republican primary voters.

The primary challengers have other grievances.

Republicans Voting For Mrs Clinton

Richard Armitage, former deputy secretary of state

Ex-President George HW Bush

Richard Hanna, New York congressman

Hank Paulson, former treasury secretary

Brent Scowcroft, former national security adviser

Chris Shays, former Connecticut congressman

Meg Whitman, prominent Republican donor; CEO of Hewlett Packard

William Bennett, former secretary of education

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Here Are All Of The House Republicans Who Voted To Impeach Donald Trump

Ten members of the GOP joined with Democrats in the vote.

President Donald Trump impeached for ‘incitement of insurrection’

The House of Representatives has voted to impeach President Donald Trump — making him the only president in American history to be impeached twice.

Unlike his first impeachment in 2019, 10 Republicans joined Democrats to charge Trump for the “incitement of insurrection” for his role in the Jan. 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol with a final vote of 232-197.

Some Republicans may have feared for their own safety if they voted for impeachment, Rep. Adam Kinzinger, one of those who voted against Trump, said. Kinzinger told ABC’s “Powerhouse Politics” podcast that some members of his party are likely holding back from voting for impeachment due to fear of highlighting their own participation in supporting the president’s false claims of election fraud.

Democrat Jason Crow, of Colorado, relayed similar thoughts in an interview with MSNBC on Wednesday morning.

“I had a lot of conversations with my Republican colleagues last night, and a couple of them broke down in tears talking to me and saying that they are afraid for their lives if they vote for this impeachment,” he said.

Here is a list of the 10 Republicans who took a stance against Trump:

Rep. Adam Kinzinger, R-Ill.“It’s not going to be some ‘Kumbaya moment’ on the floor — it’s going to be an awakening by the American people to hold their leaders accountable to their rhetoric,”

[xxxtictacion]

Do you support the death penalty? I personally do not.

sort of, tbh i dont care what the state decides to do with murderers