#miss globe united states

[heyftinally]

April 30th is the Day of the Homeschooled Child

I was one of the 1.7 million children homeschooled in the USA.

I am also one of Homeschool's Invisible Children.

I was heavily restricted at home - I was barred from nearly everything that my peers were connecting with. I had incredibly limited access to movies and TV, even more restricted internet access, and was even barred from many of the same toys my peers played with. This on top of my academic isolation made socializing very hard.

I didn't relate to my peers socially.

Children younger than me were more academically advanced than me.

I was socially unaware, and frequently missed jokes or made faux pas comments because I didn't understand how to interact with peers.

My ADHD went untreated my entire childhood.

And the issues were not only social. Despite living in a state that boasted some of the most rigorous checks for homeschooled students, I was missed. My portfolios every year were falsified - much of what they claimed I had learned I had little to no understanding of.

By the time I graduated high school "with honors" (that I did not earn and were entirely false), this is a brief list of some of my academic failings:

I had never written an essay, and did not know how

I did not know how to do a critical analysis of a piece of text or media

I was incapable of math above a 4th/5th grade level

I could not tell time on an analog clock

I could not identify more than ~5 states on a map of the United States

I could not identify more than ~5 countries on a map of the world/globe

I could not spell above a ~6th grade level

I did not know that there was proof of life on earth prior to dinosaurs

I did not know that the lymphatic system was real

And so much more.

I entered college woefully unequipped for both the academic and socal demands that were placed on me. At 18, I was closer to as 14 year old, social/emotionally. Academically I was much worse.

I had to work three times as hard as my peers to achieve the same results, battled my still-undiagnosed ADHD as well as my academic and social neglect.

I didn't fully know who I even was as a person, due to spending so many years being expected to fit a specific ideal that was enforced upon me 24/7 through the isolation of homeschooling.

This April 30th, I'm wearing green for Homeschool's Invisible Children - for children like me.

If you are a child experiencing homeschool neglect, please know that you are not alone. There are resources available to you, and your future is not doomed just because your guardians failed to educate you. I'm listing some resources below that may be of help to you.

Homeschool alumni/survivors who resonate with this story: we deserved better. We deserved education. We deserved freedom. It's okay if you're angry at your past. It's okay if you're grieving the life you might have had without homeschooling. It's okay if you're conflicted. I hope you're able to find closure and healing in whatever form that means for you.

And, because I know it unfortunately needs to be said, if you're an ex-homeschooler or a homeschool parent who feels the need to jump on this post and defend yourself, I need you to step back, sit down, delete your comment, and sit with why you feel so attacked by our truth.

This is not a personal attack on you - this is abuse survivors speaking up to prevent further abuse. It is not your place to tell us we should be silent.

"But homeschoolers test better and are more successful!" I'm sure you're dying to say. To wave your statistics at me.

And you would be wrong. Because here's the problem with those statistics.

Let's pretend we have ten homeschooled children and ten public schooled children.

All ten of the public schooled children take a school assessment. Because some excel at different things than others, the public school students average out to an 85.

Only four of the homeschooled children take the assessment. Of the other six, one is traveling with their family during the assessment, two are not permitted because their parents know they aren't up to grade level and fear backlash or judgement, two are mentally or physically disabled and so their parents don't feel the test will adequately display their knowledge, and the last hasn't received any kind of education in years because their parents keep them at home either doing chores, working a job, caring for siblings, or they are simply neglected and spend all day hungry and scared.

Of the four homeschooled children that do take the assessment, they do quite well, as their parents knew/suspected they would. Their average score is a 98.

A 98 is better than an 85, yes. But just because 4 out of 6 homeschooled children were above the public school average does not mean homeschooling is automatically better. If you tested the top four public school students, they might very well score a 98 as well.

However, if you included those other six homeschooled students, the average homeschool score would very likely be something closer to a 45.

So when we talk about Homeschool's Invisible Children, we're talking about those six that never got the chance to take an assessment. Those six who never had a chance to tell a teacher "I'm ten and I don't know how to read". Those six who may not even realize how far behind their peers they are. Those six who deserved to have access to supports so that they could learn in ways that actually met their needs.

So while your statistics look good on paper, they are not honest. They do not present the full picture of homeschooling. Listen to the homeschool survivors who were one of those six kids who never got to make their voices heard. We have a voice now - don't try and take it from us.

Resources for current homeschool students and alumni:

Khan Academy - basically free online self paced K-12 classes. They have fantastic explanation videos for the lessons, you can review them whenever you want, and you don't have to stay in the same grade level for every subject - great if you're trying to catch up and you're in 6th grad for English but 2nd for math. They have courses besides just core classes (math/english/science/etc), too! They run on donations, but it's completely free to use. Also, this site is used in my local public school system to supplement the existing curriculum, so it's not just for homeschoolers!

Coalition for Responsible Home Education - actively fighting for more oversight and restrictions on homeschooling in the USA. They mostly do awareness and advocacy, but they also have resources on their site for things like what to do if you don't have a high school transcript. They run on donations, but the information is freely available.

Probably the most famous resource on this list. Videos that give you a "crash course" (aka a condensed overview) of a wide variety of topics. These are best used as supplement to more structured lessons like Khan Academy, but they have a lot of merit on their own if they're all you can manage. Knowing a bit about something is better than knowing nothing about it!

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] Another remastered oldie. No cute banner this time because I'm lazy. [ SYNOPSIS ] Your slutty boyfriend convinces you to fuck in a nasty bar bathroom. [ WORD COUNT ] 2.9k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, established relationship, dom/sub undertones, sadomasochism, exhibitionism, public sex, rough oral sex, degradation (Zeke calls you a slut, says you're dumb), cum eating, drugs (marijuana), alcohol, Zeke's pullout game is mid tbh, and there's Neopets nostalgia.

Any establishment that opted to have red lighting as an aesthetic choice never failed to put you on guard. There was nothing quite like a wannabe speakeasy to set the mood. You had sad men hiding in corners. Sad men waiting for cute girls to talk to them. Sad men who hoped their presence in a trendy, gaudy bar with old guns hung on the walls made them interesting.

You and Zeke passed by it one cold morning and you mentioned how tacky you thought those kinds of places were. You said you wanted to go ironically. And of course called your bluff and decided your next date night would occur there. You reluctantly agreed. Denying him was a near impossible task.

You were the first at the bar, a disappointment because you wanted to have some form of comfort greet you. But no, Zeke was late as always.

He was probably at home, sitting on his ugly couch, smoking his ugly weed. His perfect body laid out next to an ugly ashtray overflowing with ugly cigarette butts, watching old Jerry Springer episodes on Youtube.

There was no other place you’d rather be. You wanted to be sprawled out on top of him, your head on his chest as he dithered about class disparity in the United States.

We can laugh at Beau and Cletus all we want, but look at us. I pay for high-speed internet so I can watch this shit unfettered and make fun of their shoes. You just complained about two-day shipping not being fast enough. And you ordered, what, loose leaf chamomile tea? We’re just as embarrassing as them, maybe even more so. The difference is that we have disposable income.

On second thought maybe you were better off languishing in a faux speakeasy. The ground may have been sticky underneath your shoes, but at least you didn’t have Zeke blabbering in your ear.

“Miss me?” Zeke purred in your ear before.

“Nope, I’ve been too busy.”

“Do you expect me to believe that?”

“Yeah. I got caught up feeding my Neopet… Or if that’s not an acceptable answer, I can say I was sleeping with your dad. You choose.”

“Neopet. I like knowing you care about things.”

“Did you know they never die?”

You order a round of Cuba Libres.

“I don’t like rum,” Zeke whined.

You shoved the drink in his hand and stole a handful of cut limes from the little container behind the bar.

“Really?” he asked bluntly.

“They never put enough. Trust me. Anyway, that little green Mynci you made in 2001 is sitting there. Literally starving! Zeke.” You grabbed his wrist. “That is verbatim what it says on the website. Starving.” You plopped two slices of lime in his drink.

He stared at you, his grey eyes full of concern. He was high off his ass. “She was yellow.”

“What was her name?”

“I can’t remember, but I know it had like six numbers and probably three underscores.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Every fucking day.”

Laughter overtook both of you. You grabbed a table closest to the exit and he slid his backpack under it. You figured he didn’t want to linger long as well. The chairs were freezing. You shifted in your seat. The cold didn’t help your sore ass. Zeke took notice of this.

“I told you I was paddling you too hard.” He took a tiny sip of his drink.

“I still stand by that you weren’t hard enough.”

“You were crying, pet.”

“They were tears of happiness. You know, like when people win a Golden Globe or whatever.”

“No one gets that excited over a Golden Globe.”

You slumped down into your chair. You had no witty retort. This happened more often than not when he was around. In just about every other social situation you were the paragon of humor, a true queen of comedy.

“Aww, did I hit a nerve?” He kicked your shin from under the table. The pain perked you up. You proceeded to stomp on his foot eliciting an audible wince from him.

“How long are you trying to stay here?” you asked, hoping he’d say something like zero seconds or if I stay here any longer I’ll turn into sand.

“Long enough to have sex in what I am assuming is a gross bathroom.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re high, right? You can’t—This place is gross.”

“I had this planned from the beginning.” He leaned back in his chair. “It shouldn’t be too gross. This hellhole hasn’t been open that long.”

“My feet stick to the—”

“That’s character.” He leaned forward over the table, yanking you by the collar of your shirt so you were inches away from his face. “It makes for an interesting experience.”

You let out a nervous laugh, desperately fighting off the beginnings of arousal. The gross old men leered.

“Ugh. Fine. But I wanna be high too,” you complained.

He glanced at the growing pod of old men. “Let’s hit the bathroom.”

He got up, leaving his unfinished drink behind. It prompted you to do the same. They weren’t that impressive. You walked down the hall turning corners until you saw a sign for a bathroom. Zeke kicked in the door and shoved his head inside.

“I’m pretty sure no one is in here. And look, there are even stalls.”

He made his way over to one and tried to lock its door.

“Well that’s broken.”

He repeated this process on the remaining two stalls. None of them had working locks.

You looked around. “This is—”

“An even better opportunity than I could have imagined.”

You were speechless. You knew he was a borderline insatiable tramp, but this was a lot. You were conflicted. On one hand, getting railed by him always sounded like a good time. But on the other, getting potentially caught by one of those decaying dinosaurs sounded like torture. And you hadn’t committed any crimes bearing that level of punishment.

“But those guys are so weird looking,” you whined like a child.

“Who cares?”

“I care. It’d be one thing if they were like your hot friends…”

“You can’t say that and not specify which ones. It’s illegal. You and I both know that.”

“Fuck… Pieck, duh. Or Colt.”

“Oh god. Really?... Colt?” he sounded vaguely disgusted.

“Fuck you! Yeah, really Colt. It’d be a learning experience for him.”

“I wouldn’t let him join in.”

You smirked. “You say that now, but in the moment the tides may change.” You punctuated the sentence with a wink.

“Alright, you might have a point with the Colt thing. But I’m disappointed Reiner didn’t come up.”

“You know you can just say who you would want to catch us? Like my answers aren’t the end-all-be-all.”

You went to join him in the decrepit stall. You hugged his toned body and buried your face into the crook of his neck. His hands went straight to your ass, typical.

“Reiner, because I know it’d fuck with him,” he yammered on. “Or what’s that one guy’s name? The one that hangs out with my brother?”

“So many people hang out with your brother. You really want a 19-year-old catching us?”

“Hush. I’m thinking. Blonde. Blue eyes.” He paused. “Also Colt’s 19, dumb ass.”

“Colt doesn’t count!! Are you thinking of Historia?”

“What?! No.”

Zeke broke the hug and rubbed his temples. “It’s a boy. He is a boy.”

“Well, more like a man.”

“You’re not helping. Blonde. Blue eyes. He’s a,” Zeke paused for emphasis, “man.”

“I think that’s Armi—”

He barreled through your sentence. “Armin! Yes, him. It’d fuck him up too. He’s like an angel; we’d be stripping him of all innocence.”

“Dude, I’m pretty sure a cute, 19-year-old college boy is getting at least some form of action. We all know who the right option is.”

“Alright, fuck it. Fine. Colt. Are you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Pervert,” he mumbled.

“Like you have room to talk.”

You grazed his cock with your hand. He smirked and pulled a joint from his pack of cigarettes. He held it between his lips and sparked it.

“I see you’re not concerned about getting caught.” He took a hit and then passed it to you.

You took a heavy drag off the joint. “I’m already going to get loudly fucked in a bathroom. I might as be high.”

You passed the joint back to him and he took a lengthy hit. He let the smoke drift from his mouth slowly. You plucked the joint from his fingers.

“I recommend taking another. A long one.”

“Why?” you said, smoke drifting from your mouth.

“Because you’re getting on your knees the second you exhale.”

You held the rest of the smoke in for as long as you could to spite him. But Zeke quickly tired of your bullshit and took the joint from you. He grabbed a chunk of your hair from the back of your scalp and pulled.

“Knees,” he muttered.

You scoffed. “Rude.”

However you did as you were told and he loosened his grip. He took a hit from the joint and blew the smoke towards the ceiling. The ground wasn’t sticky, but that did little to quell your disgust. You were always ashamed at the depths of depravity you allowed yourself to descend into for your boyfriend.

You looked up at him and asked, “Are you really gonna be able to keep the door shut?”

“No. Undo my belt.”

You gritted your teeth and started to fiddle with his belt. His rough hand rested on your head, softly caressing it. You knew such tenderness wouldn’t last long.

“I know you can work faster than that.”

You sighed dramatically. You quickly pulled his belt off and unbuttoned his jeans. You pulled them down and noted that his black briefs were sullied with precum. You yanked his underwear down and was greeted by his thick cock, a beautiful sight to behold. Drool pooled in your mouth, a small drop of it trickled from the corner of your mouth. Zeke lifted your chin and wiped it away with his calloused thumb.

“You’re foul. What will I ever do with you?”

You gazed up at him. “I don’t know… Let me milk every drop of cum from your cock?”

He smirked. “You’re so fucking stupid. Are you done talking?”

“I guess. I can’t think of anything else to—”

He grabbed the back of your head and forced his cock into your mouth. You lurched forward, using the bathroom stall door to keep some semblance of balance. His thrusts were methodical. Never too deep as he didn’t want you to gag on him, it was too early for that.

“You’re filthy, you know that? An utter degenerate.”

He continued to plunge his cock deeper and deeper into your mouth. You carefully breathed through your nose and tried to not cough on his length.

“You deserve to get caught. Everyone deserves to know what a disgusting slut you are.”

You attempted a nod, but Zeke put his rugged palm on your forehead and shoved you off of his cock.

“Say it.”

“I deserve to get caught.”

His grey stared down at you hazy with lust. “And?” He took one last hit off the joint.

“And everyone deserves to know how gross I am.”

He frowned and blew the smoke directly in your face. “Not quite, but close enough.” He shoved his cock back down your throat.

The bathroom stall proved to be a poor source of balance so you rested your hands on his tense thighs. His muscles contracted with pleasure. You relaxed your throat, finally getting the entirety of his cock in your mouth. You held it there for a few seconds before you felt the beginning of a gag. You pushed his hips away from you. He pulled out and continued to jerk off as you coughed and caught your breath.

“I’m getting really close,” he teased.

You smacked his hand away. You spit in yours and jerked him off while running your tongue along his slit.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. He held your head in place and rammed his cock in your mouth. You grabbed onto his taut ass for leverage. His thrusts were becoming sloppy. He came hard, filling your throat with cum.

“I’m getting fucked, right?” you asked, wiping your lips.

“No, I thought I’d just stand here in this bathroom with my dick out.”

You rolled your eyes and got undressed. He led you out of the stall and shoved you against the sink. He groped your breasts, rough fingers pinching your nipples.

“Ouch!” you yelped.

Zeke laughed and pinched harder. He slipped three of his dexterous fingers into your slick pussy. They slid in and out with ease. He pushed you harder against the sink, the basin digging into your spine. You winced. He took notice and put his hands under your ass and lifted you up.

“Lock your legs around me,” he commanded.

He slammed his cock balls deep inside you. There was no tenderness in his thrusts. He wanted you to moan his name louder than you’d moan anyone else’s. But you resisted. The last thing you wanted to do was to bring any attention to yourself.

“Come on, pet,” he practically begged. “Say my name.”

You shook your head. You pictured those leering old men sipping their martinis, cocks stiff as they heard you moan. Zeke rubbed your clit with his thumb and started kissing your neck. His soft flaxen beard tickled your skin.

“Say my name or else I’ll go find some cheap whore that will.” 

His breath was hot on your neck. He pressed his thumb down hard on your clit.

“Fuck! Zeke!” Your legs tightened around his waist.

He placed his hand under your chin and forced you to make eye contact. His eyes were feral, darkened with desire.

“Weak. You can do better than that.”

You hugged him closer, fingernails digging into his chiseled back.

“Zeke!”

You felt your body growing warmer. Every cell in your body writhed with pleasure. You clung to his body as your orgasm intensified.

“I don’t remember giving you permission,” he whispered in your ear.

You attempted to hold back but it was too late. You moaned his name louder than even he anticipated. He held his hand over your mouth, his cock still inside you, thrusting away.

“I don’t remember saying you should start screaming either.” His tone was anxious. “I never thought I’d say this, but please shut the fuck up.”

You glared at him, but remained silent and allowed him to continue fucking you with his engorged cock.

“Good girl.”

The words barely left his lips before he let out a hearty moan. He pulled out of you.

“Hurry, get on your knees.”

You dropped down to them and opened your mouth. For the first time in years he missed, getting his cum all over your chin and down your neck. You were not impressed.

“You look so cute.”

He pinched your cheek and ordered you to stand up. He held your face in his hands. Just as he went to lick your neck the bathroom door swung open. It was one of the old men. Zeke didn’t stop licking you.

“Oh my word! I am so sorry. You, uh… You two… have fun.”

The guy ran out as quickly as he came in.

“I wonder if I could pay that guy to walk in on us whenever I want.”

You went to search for your underwear and found them inside a toilet. You flushed them away.

 “No. We talked about this already.”

“Colt would be traumatized if he walked in on this.”

Zeke finally put his dick away. You both stood at the sink washing your hands.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?! Whatever, let’s leave before we get kicked out for being absolutely disgusting. Not that I ever plan on coming back here.”

You walked out of the bathroom and faced the geezers. You kept your head down. Zeke on the other hand seemed to relish in the shame and even tried to high five the man who caught you.

Zeke grabbed his backpack from under the table you two had been previously sitting at. You headed to the spiral staircase that led to the exit. It was one of those rickety metal ones that would be considered decorative in a world that made sense. Zeke offered you his elbow and you held on while you cautiously made your way down the stairs. You pushed through the heavy doors and were greeted by a rush of cold air.

You shivered. “Fuck! I was inside before the sun went down.”

You were woefully unprepared for the weather.

“Good thing I’m a genius then, huh?” He pulled out a sweatshirt from his backpack. “Arms up.”

You raised your arms and he tugged the sweatshirt down onto your body.

“Thank you. I didn’t think it would be so chilly.”

Zeke pointed up at the perfectly clear night sky. “Yeah, we’re in for a cold one. Look.”

You both let out a collective whoa. It was a gorgeous sight; it almost made up for the ugliness that had previously occurred moments ago.

Zeke lightly slapped your ass. “Let’s get moving. We need to shower.”

“Come on, you don’t wanna stare at something dumb ass beautiful?”

If you had craned your neck back any further to see the stars you would have toppled over.“I already have a beautiful dumb ass I can stare at whenever I want. Now come on. I was balls deep in a paternity dispute before I got here. You’re going to love it, the baby daddy threw his gold tooth at his ex-wife. Jerry is pissed.”

[aliveandfullofjoy]

95th Academy Awards: Oscars Trivia!

Another torturously long awards season is over! A24's highest-grossing film ever, Everything Everywhere All at Once, defied almost every piece of popular wisdom about the Academy Awards and easily cleared every hurdle in its path to a blowout, historic Best Picture win.

As you probably know, I'm a sucker for Oscar trivia, and this year has plenty of juicy nuggets to dig into. Let's get to it, starting with our newest Best Picture winner.

Everything Everywhere All at Once is the third film in Oscar history to win three of the four acting categories, after A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) and Network (1976). All three films won Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress. Everything Everywhere All at Once is the only film of the three that managed to win Best Picture.

Michelle Yeoh is the first Malaysian actress, first Asian actress, and second woman of color to win Best Actress. This is only the thirteenth time that Best Actress and Best Picture have overlapped in the 95-year history of the Oscars. Yeoh's nomination made her the first Asian actress nominated for the award since 1935. The only other is Merle Oberon, who hid her Asian identity in life and passed as white.

Everything Everywhere All at Once is the first science-fiction film to win Best Picture.

Everything Everywhere All at Once is the first Best Picture winner with a woman of color (Michelle Yeoh) in the lead role.

Having opened in theaters in late March 2022 (the same weekend of the 94th Academy Awards), Everything Everywhere All at Once is the Best Picture winner with the earliest calendar release since The Silence of the Lambs, which opened Valentine's Day 1991.

Everything Everywhere All at Once is the third Best Picture winner with a majority non-white cast (after 2016's Moonlight and 2019's Parasite) and the first American film with a majority Asian cast.

Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert (Everything Everywhere All at Once) are the third directing team to win Best Director, joining Jerome Robbins and Robert Wise (West Side Story, 1961) and Joel Coen and Ethan Coen (No Country for Old Men, 2007). Kwan is also the fourth Asian director (and first Asian-American) to win Best Director.

Everything Everywhere All at Once is the first movie in 95 years of Oscars history to win six(!) so-called "above the line" awards -- referring to Best Picture, Director, the four acting categories, and the two writing categories.

Everything Everywhere All at Once is the first film to sweep the four primary guild awards (Producers Guild, Directors Guild, Writers Guild, and Screen Actors Guild) since Argo (2012), and only the fifth overall.

Some crazy coincidences between Michelle Yeoh and her Best Actress presenter Halle Berry: in addition to currently being the only two women of color to win Best Actress, they are also both former Bond girls (Yeoh in Tomorrow Never Dies [1997], Berry in Die Another Day [2002], both with Pierce Brosnan). Additionally, both women are former contestants of the Miss World pageant: Berry represented the United States in 1986, while Yeoh represented Malaysia in 1983. Also, in a weird case of history rhyming, both Berry and Yeoh won over a previous Oscar-winner in a film directed by Todd Field (Sissy Spacek in In the Bedroom in 2001, Cate Blanchett in TÁR in 2022).

With four wins, All Quiet on the Western Front tied with Parasite (2019), Roma (2018), Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000), and Fanny and Alexander (1982) as the most-rewarded non-English language films in Oscars history.

This is also the second time that Cate Blanchett has won a Golden Globe, a BAFTA, and a Critics Choice Award for a performance, only to lose the Oscar to the lead of the Best Picture winner. The other time this happened was the year another comedy won seven Oscars: Shakespeare in Love. Blanchett, who was nominated for Elizabeth that year, lost to Gwyneth Paltrow.

TÁR brought Blanchett her eighth Oscar nomination, tying her as the fourth most-nominated actress in Oscar history. Only Bette Davis (10), Katharine Hepburn (12), and Meryl Streep (21) are ahead of her.

TÁR is only director Todd Field's third feature (after 2001's In the Bedroom and 2006's Little Children), but all three of his films have gotten Best Actress nominations for their leads.

Blanchett has also extended her record as the Oscar-nominated actress with the most appearances in films nominated for Best Picture. With TÁR, she has now appeared in 10 Best Picture nominees.

Tom Hanks (who turned in one of the weirdest performances ever caught on film in Elvis) also crossed the 10 Best Picture appearance threshold with this year's nominations. The only nominated actor with more Best Picture appearances is Jack Nicholson, who's been in 11.

This year's nominations saw a record-breaking number of Asian actors nominated: Yeoh in Best Actress, Ke Huy Quan (Everything Everywhere All at Once) in Best Supporting Actor, and Hong Chau (The Whale) and Stephanie Hsu (Everything Everywhere All at Once) in Best Supporting Actress. Yeoh and Quan won, marking the first time multiple Asian actors have won in a single ceremony.

Hong Chau (The Whale) is the first Oscar-nominated actor to be born in a refugee camp.

This year also saw a record number of Irish actors nominated in a single year, with five: Colin Farrell (The Banshees of Inisherin) and Paul Mescal (Aftersun) in Best Actor, Brendan Gleeson and Barry Keoghan (both from The Banshees of Inisherin) in Best Supporting Actor, and Kerry Condon (again, The Banshees of Inisherin) in Best Supporting Actress.

It was a banner year for Ireland in other categories, too, with nominations in Best Live Action Short (An Irish Goodbye, which won the award) and in Best International Feature (The Quiet Girl, the first Irish-language film ever nominated for an Oscar).

With his win in the Supporting Actor category, Quan became only the second Asian actor to win that award, joining the late Haing S. Ngor, who won for his debut performance in The Killing Fields (1984).

All five of the nominees for Best Actor -- Austin Butler (Elvis), Colin Farrell (The Banshees of Inisherin), Brendan Fraser (The Whale), Paul Mescal (Aftersun), and Bill Nighy (Living) -- were first-time nominees. This is the first time this has happened in this category since 1934(!!!).

It was a huge year for first-time nominees across all four acting categories: 16(!) of the 20 actors nominated were first-timers. This is the most ever in a single year. The only actors with previous nominations were Cate Blanchett, Angela Bassett, Judd Hirsch, and Michelle Williams.

Jamie Lee Curtis (Everything Everywhere All at Once) is the third person to be nominated for an Oscar after both of her parents were nominated as well: her father Tony Curtis was nominated for The Defiant Ones (1958), while her mother Janet Leigh was nominated for Psycho (1960). The other sets of nominated parents and children are Liza Minnelli (with parents Judy Garland and Vincente Minnelli) and Laura Dern (with parents Diane Ladd and Bruce Dern). Minnelli, Dern, and Curtis all won acting Oscars.

With his performance in The Whale, Brendan Fraser became the first person to win Best Actor for a film not nominated for Best Picture since Jeff Bridges in Crazy Heart (2009).

This is also the first time since 2005 that all four acting winners were first-time nominees. Additionally, none of the four acting winners won in their category at the BAFTAs, which has never happened before.

With his Best Supporting Actor nomination, Judd Hirsch (The Fabelmans) broke the record for the longest gap between acting nominations: he was last nominated 42 years ago for Ordinary People (1980). The record previously belonged to Henry Fonda, who had a 41-year gap between nods.

In addition to being the first actor ever nominated for a performance in a Marvel movie, Angela Bassett (Black Panther: Wakanda Forever) also became the fourth Black actress to be nominated more than once. She joined Viola Davis, Whoopi Goldberg, and Octavia Spencer.

The Fabelmans is the first movie to win the Golden Globe for Best Picture - Drama to go home emptyhanded at the Oscars since The Turning Point (1977[!]). In fact, this is the first time ever that both Golden Globe Best Picture winners (The Fabelmans in Drama, The Banshees of Inisherin in Comedy) went home with zero Oscars.

2022 had some other similarities with 1977, too: this was the first year since 1977 that two films (Everything Everywhere All at Once and The Banshees of Inisherin in 2022, Julia and The Turning Point in 1977) got four individual acting nominations. Both years saw comedies win Best Picture and Best Actress (Annie Hall in 1977), and both years had a sci-fi blockbuster nominated in Best Picture (Star Wars and Avatar: The Way of Water).

Ana de Armas (Blonde) became the second actor nominated for playing Marilyn Monroe, which is more Oscars than Monroe herself was ever nominated for. She was nominated in Best Actress alongside Michelle Williams (The Fabelmans), the other actress nominated for playing the star (in 2011's My Week with Marilyn).

De Armas also became the fifth Latina nominated for Best Actress, joining Fernanda Montenegro, Salma Hayek, Catalina Sandino Moreno, and Yalitza Aparicio. She is also the second Cuban actor ever nominated, after Andy Garcia.

With her win for Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, legendary costume designer Ruth Carter became the first Black woman to win two Oscars — ever.

Only Austin Butler and Ana de Armas were nominated for playing historical figures this year. Weirdly, both Elvis and Blonde feature actor Xavier Samuel in small roles. What does it mean?

At 34 minutes long, The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse is the longest Best Animated Short winner ever.

In addition to being the first song from an Indian film to be nominated for and win the Oscar for Best Song, "Naatu Naatu" (RRR) is the fourth non-English language winner of that award, after "Never on Sunday" (1960, originally performed in Greek), "Al otro lado del río" (2004, in Spanish), and "Jai Ho" (2008, in Hindi, Urdu, and Punjabi). "Naatu Naatu" is in Telugu.

It was the year of the sequel: between Avatar: The Way of Water and Top Gun: Maverick, this marked the first time multiple sequels were nominated in Best Picture in the same year. Black Panther: Wakanda Forever and Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery also received major nominations.

Avatar and Top Gun also marked the first time since 1982 that the two highest-grossing films of the year were both nominated for Best Picture.

[love-note-musings]

helen otis x reader | creepypasta oneshot

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* "up from the ocean floor," bloody painter x pyromaniac reader

tw themes of gender stereotypes and body dysmorphia

if you feel like you've read this somewhere, you may have! i'm just transferring my old oneshots from quotev onto my tumblr

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀

     The two of you sat together, hands lightly entangled, not too tight, just dangling there in that space. You fidgeted. Strings hanging down from your jacket twirling around your free fingers, your leg bounced. Even with the tranquility of it all, your mind wandered while your body was settled into someone else, relaxed yet on edge, waiting to crash. Mostly just waiting. Anticipation gripped onto you with white knuckles, it sent you bounding, it filled the crevices in your brain where the missing memories evaporated into blank cavities, it gushed.

     In the black of night, your art would erupt into one blazing star that spread to all four corners, licking up the walls and floorboards and uniting them under one flame that blanketed the abandoned building. You stood there as your shoulders drooped and you felt the anxiety that toyed with you dissipate, even slightly, watching as the flames mesmerized you, swaying to one another. The stress, anxiety, it all exploded out of you with waves of red, it was illicit and choleric and it lapped at the edges of the walls as the air around it warped into new shapes and patterns. It was all a vivid, prismatic globe that exploded and spread. 

      To Helen, you were polychromatic. 

      You were like a vivid, prismatic globe that would shatter across the night sky, spreading your polychromatic visage against wooden planks nailed together, splattering down until you reached the ground again. The world burned for you, and fire was dangerous, he knew that. Helen couldn’t help but stare, taking in the hues and letting himself bask in the view, making sure the image would imprint all the way down into his bones so he’d be sure to remember it forever somewhere on his body. Visible marks.

     Tensions ebbed and fell from your body little by little as the flames covered more ground, spreading from the floorboards to the ceilings as you sat in the grass by Helen’s side. You were no artist, merely just trying to find a foothold amongst tumbling rocks. Small clicks were nothing in comparison to the crackling embers and his film camera wasn’t enough to do the scene justice.

     Oh, and the way your eyes shined, the colors bounding off your scleras and reflecting back the danger, the heat. You shifted in awe. In your distracted state, Helen leaned away from your hold and positioned his camera towards your face in wonderment. With a snap, the memory would last. 

     What would an artist be without a muse? To repeatedly create but with no admiration, and therefore, with no motivation, allowing themselves to be pulled in any direction of stereotypical beauty without any personal influencers. Helen used to be quite stumped with himself, wondering why his eye was captured by floral lace and monochromatic clothing all the same. Why at times he wanted to feel dainty, and sometimes neutral, sometimes strong and bold. This created categories in his mind, never quite finding the foothold he desired in the narrow categories crafted for him by other people. It left him rattled and defenseless, allowing his interests to sway with a bout of rather disinterest, never staying long with one style or another, trying everything and therefore finding nothing. What did Helen want to be? 

     He had delicate features, that’s what everyone had always said, at least. ‘Dainty, delicate’. At times he found the sight of himself calming. Other times he wanted to smash any and all mirrors, fearing that when he looked he wouldn’t like what he found. When it came time to attempt a self portrait, Helen found he had no idea where to start, how to portray his features, wondering what he looked like to begin with. What did he look like? How did others perceive him? In the end, he settled on feeling, how he felt, what he thought he had looked like. The canvas came out splotched and blurred. Yet when it came to anyone else, he would be able to paint them with near perfection, seemingly being able to pinpoint what about their faces made them unique, their own person. 

     Helen looked through his “self portraits” with a dissatisfied look, flipping through the canvases, never liking how they looked, even with the ambiguity, never liking the shades or angles or anything. He disliked it all. So they sat in the corner of his study covered with a tarp, next to it on the shelf, a box of film photos that he’d shuffle through, looking for something to occupy his time. Photos of wildlife, people, fabrics fluttering in the wind, and even cafes made their way from that box into different art pieces. Sketches, watercolor, charcoal, acrylic and oil paintings, colored pencils stenciled in to make photos with strokes. At least he could make other things to his liking. In the end, he chose the one photo that lit him up the most. 

     And so he sat there, hour upon hour, sitting on a stool splattered with paint as his hands traveled with ease, moving from one corner to another until the patterns corrected itself and the colors meshed, melding into one picture. Dots marking the sides of their cheeks, lips upturned at the corners, eyes fitted with wrinkles that looked appropriate, creating crescents. A blush sank into those same cheeks, dusting the sides, adding depth to the face which had started out as a collection of shapes and ended up being yours. What was an artist without a muse, without beauty to capture? So there you were. Poised in the photograph, sitting patiently, oblivious to the idle fascination found on your features that were once etched into your muscle memory and were now preserved by sheets of canvas fitted to four beams of wood. Acrylic paint, a medium used by the artist to mold you back into life. 

     When the day came down to yet another close, he felt okay with the fact that he could capture every single, tiny, miniature, inconsequential detail that made up the being of you. If he could not find himself in bins of paint and brushes, nor amongst pencils or water, he could find you, the blueprint that led to his heart and warmed it from the bottom up. Helen could have sworn you held the key in some way, some form, that reached deep inside of him to find the urge that spurred him forward, to create, to do, to perceive. Perhaps it was egotistical, but every piece he had every done of you had been perfect. He liked perfect, he was only ever satisfied with perfect. Your beauty and essence gave way to him finding the drive to perfect each line on your face. 

     Time melted away, and soon, it was complete. A near replica of the photograph he managed to capture the first time he saw your eyes light up. 

     You, the actual you, stood patiently behind him, hands folded behind your back as you looked between Helen and the painting. Eyeing him up and down, pretending to circle his newest art piece and ogle at it, lips formed in a line that couldn’t help but result in a smirk with your fingers to your lips. The only thing you were looking at was him. Bangs covering his eyes ever so slightly that you wondered how he could see, eyebrows furrowed deep in concentration, one you knew better but to break. It’s true, you wouldn’t bother him with your own musings. Instead you roamed around his room as if you haven’t been there times and times before. Curious hands found draped tarps and draped tarps housed hidden paintings. Fingers flipping through the collection, your own brow became furrowed.

     “Helen,” you called out, an outgoing dare to break the silence, “what are these?” Turning back to him, you followed his line of sight as it drifted down to the canvases nestled amongst the crook of the floor. 

     “Nothing,” he said cooly, deflecting back into the makeshift world he was creating, being able to live there as long as the process lasted. “Don’t worry about it,”

      A hum left your lips, rocking back and forth on your heels. You knew exactly what you were looking at. “What will you do with them?”

      Helen shrugged, “Burn them? You can tear the staples out from the fabric if you want, I’ll reuse the frames.”

     ‘How environmentally friendly of you,’ you thought to yourself with amusement, heaving up one of the canvases and holding it out for a better look. 

     Well, it had the shape of Helen. Nothing much more to it. Blurred features were what drew your eye in, wondering what exactly the idea was behind the work. Nonetheless you grabbed a pair of pliers and began tearing the staples out, careful with each piece of canvas you ripped from the base, laying them neatly to the side as the pile of stapes layered up. If you could have done him justice, you would have offered to try to capture him in some way, whether by paint stroke or sketch. But you were no artist, and felt it insulting to even try. 

     “Are you sure you want to get rid of them. . ?” You asked, never not anticipating an answer in the negative.

     “Yes,” he replied, matching your assumption. And with that you left the topic at hand until the night.

     When the sun lost itself under the horizon, Helen rolled up those loose canvas pieces and held them under his arm like a newspaper, bundled up as he made his way through the woods. There he’d find you amongst the trees in an alcove of your own design, a burning pit in the middle. Once the scraps were placed in your hands, Helen didn’t bother needing to see it through with conviction. They’d simply erupt into flames and he would be freed from that feeling, right? It would all go away and he wouldn’t have to see it anymore, he could start over again, and he’d be free. 

     Except nothing is ever as simple, and you knew that as you felt the gravity of it in your palms. “Are you sure you want to get rid of them?” You asked one last time, just to be sure, prompted to do so by the slightest of twinges in his expression, just one opening of a sliver into his emotions. 

     Helen huffed, “Yes, of course I”m sure. Why is it any different than the other work I’ve burned here?” 

     “Because,” you reasoned, “its you and you made it.”

     “That is not me.”

     His diction briefly startled you, his voice raised into a raging simmer and dangling off into an eruption, bouncing and cracking. Helen, usually so posh and poised, you knew he had to have his weak spots too, just like any other person. But again, knowing Helen, you knew he wouldn’t be the kind to shed those slivers and open up, tearing himself away from his comforts and instead preferring to become entangled with your own. That kind of vulnerability was different from sharing a bed, from sharing any kind of space; it was the kind that would eat up at your insides, the kind that you wouldn’t let go of until you couldn’t keep it contained anymore. You were patient, it was the long run from here on out, and he was completely correct that it wasn’t him.

     With that, you let fire do what fire does best.

     Helen didn’t much look at the scene, instead slumping into himself, looking a little bit more at peace as the flames picked at the frays. You watched him as his arms wrapped around his sides, his neutral expression nearly settled into a grimace, his eyes concentrated yet unfocused. 

     “I’ll try it again someday,” he said out of the blue, watching the flames dance, his tone calm and steady once more, as if nothing were amiss.

     You made the risk of getting closer to him and placing your hand on divot in his back, you pulled yourself closer to him, “I know.”

     To your surprise, Helen didn’t move away. His feet found themselves shuffling even just an inch closer to your embrace to share your warmth and feel your presence. Your body pressed against his helped those feelings ebb and flow, slowing to a trickle in his mind, grounding himself in the sensation rather than the aesthetic, letting him exist. Even if it was with the help of your feelings, it was still something to grasp onto throughout the onslaught of thoughts that plagued him. It was still different. 

     For that moment and that moment only, Helen compromised on relying on you with the faith that you wouldn’t view him lesser than worthy for exhibiting such intimacy with. He leaned into your side, closer yet now, and settled his head into the crook of your neck. From now on he’d wear blush proudly if you were the one to fluster him, he’d yank flowers from people’s porch side gardens, preferably annuals, he’d press them between pages in the dictionary, he’d grind the petals together to form a paste, coat it with oil to bind, splattering onto new canvases. Helen would wrap flowers and their vines all over your body to squeeze every spot he wasn’t bold enough to touch in reality. The paintings would be just as good, right? gloriosa superba would be his poison of choice, he’d use it smear across his body until he became apart of the petals. Fire was dangerous and he gave into the heat.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

originally posted on quotev/citrusyfruits, reposted with permission

[mightdeletelater]

I spent 15 hours, across three days, watching and taking notes on the legal proceedings at the International Court of Justice, where South Africa filed a genocide case against Israel. 

South Africa's case was a temporal snapshot that lay the weight of decades of historical context. Although the specifics of the case pertained to Israel's actions in Gaza, its overarching objective reached beyond these particulars. At its core, the case sought to address the substantial disparity between the lived reality of Palestinians and the narrative propagated by dominant political forces.

Across the globe, public anger regarding the events in Gaza has manifested on the streets. However, political leaders consistently chose to overlook, dismiss, ban, or vilify this collective sentiment. Maybe it is recency bias, but in my lifetime, there has never been such a disconnect between politicians and their people than when it comes to Gaza. 

The significance of South Africa's case before the International Court of Justice is that it publically challenges the portrayal of the Palestinian cause as a fringe issue.

Beyond merely outlining the severity of events – 23,000+ killed in Gaza, the 1.9 million displaced, the 7,000+ missing under the rubble, and the thousands of bombs dropped, making this the deadliest rate of conflict of the 21st century – the case links these claims to the Geneva Conventions and human rights law. 

But where are we as a society, as a human race even, that we are at a point where the case was brought forth in the first place? Such an initiative questions the legitimacy of the international response and underscores the diminishing persuasive power of Western logic in an increasingly multipolar world. 

The case represents a broader confrontation within international institutions, raising doubts about the actual existence of the human rights infrastructure. The conflict has placed Western allies in the precarious position of undermining or neglecting their own established systems, eroding their credibility on the global stage. When you're against the United Nations and hundreds of human rights organisations and objecting to a submission in a global court (in the case of the US and UK, a court that they themselves established), you are simply pulling apart your house with the very tools that built it.

Western powers, having previously failed to support a Gaza ceasefire, will from now on be viewed in the global south as fighting on Israel's side. More so than they were already. And why wouldn't they be? These politicians have made it clear that they want to supply arms and military support to a regime, and their intervention, it seems, is contingent upon the safeguarding of goods shipment. These politicians assert that financial resources are lacking for reconstructing their nations, yet readily allocate funds for military endeavours. Why? How is any of this normal? 

After the legal proceedings, Netanyahu said, "We will continue the war in the Gaza Strip until we achieve all our objectives. The Hague and the axis of evil will not stop us." Without compelling a policy change from Israel, what hope is there that South Africa's case will avail? It was obvious that Israel would use support from the US and the UK to prosecute the real agenda that Netanyahu and hundreds of Israeli politicians have hidden in plain sight (i.e. admitted on camera constantly): the destruction of Palestine and its people.

The recurring pattern is evident. Gaza transforms from an open-air prison to an open-air slaughterhouse under Israeli actions. Iraq faces invasion and fragmentation fueled by falsehoods and lies. Libya, once somewhat stable, descends into a state of civil war. Afghanistan witnesses invasion followed by prolonged failure and abandonment. Yemen endures relentless bombing, culminating in one of the most severe humanitarian crises in recorded human history. Syria? Also bombed, resulting in the displacement of thousands of refugees.

All of this, and more, is the legacy of Western "intervention", war, and policy in the Middle East.

Strangely, I find myself distanced from all this turmoil, yet the impact remains surprisingly profound. So many people I love have been impacted, yet I still experience a sense of detachment.

I go about my life. I have family and friends. I have hobbies and a job. But multiple times a day, it will hit me. I'll remember the videos I've seen of a mother crying over her son's body. Or the father carrying the remains of his children in plastic bags. Or the doctors performing amputations in overcrowded hospitals with nothing more than a dull butter knife. A wave of deep sorrow washes over me, settling in my chest like a persistent ache, lingering until I find a sufficiently absorbing distraction. And then, the cycle restarts.

But I don't want to be distracted. And I don't want to forget. I feel like I don't deserve to forget. It feels like the least I can do. Because I, unfortunately, do not have a megaphone loud enough to shout to those in positions of authority and tell them they are cowardly individuals sitting on chairs fashioned from the bones of Gaza's children.

In 2024, you would think that we would only be quoting Martin Luther King to learn about history and not to still use his message for current happenings, but he honestly said it best: "No one is free when we are all free." 

[y-rhywbeth2]

Gods & Clergy: Bane #2

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

Religion | Gods | Shar | Selûne | Bhaal | Mystra | Jergal | Bane #1 | Bane #2 | Bane #3 | Myrkul | Lathander | Kelemvor | Tyr | Helm | Ilmater | Mielikki | Oghma | Gond | Tempus | Silvanus | Talos | Umberlee | Corellon | Moradin | Yondalla | Garl Glittergold | Eilistraee | Lolth | Laduguer | Gruumsh | Bahamut | Tiamat | Amodeus | The rest of the Faerûnian Pantheon --WIP

-

Apparently, they are a beautiful combination of every dictatorship ever with some flavouring from the fucking mafia. They also sort-of have a Pope, and sometimes papal schisms.

Social Darwinism for everybody! And remember, Bane is always watching you - do not make him get involved, kiddies.

Can these people get any more delightful??

---

"The world is made stronger by mighty and ordered rule, with the ruled made to fear their rulers and to hate common foes. Weakness and frivolity should be publicly destroyed for all to see and heed. Good is but a shelter for weakness and the whims of those who profess noble goals. Evil is the true state of nature, for winning is everything, and oppression is natural. Fight against good, and exalt evil. Tyrannize and destroy the weak, so that all in time become better and stronger, everyone knowing their place and not daring to question or foment disorder. "Be a tyrant. Make others fear and hate you, but awaken in them hatred of others. Aid tyrants and oppressors, but if they disagree with you or fellow Dark Hands (clergy of Bane) over policy, or turn back from tyranny or oppressing others, shatter them. We are the forge that tempers rulers, to make them ever harder, stronger, and more evil. Laws and rules, not wanton chaos, should reign. Eliminate lawbreakers. Kill or thwart a good creature every day (kill is better). Bring down arbitrary law keepers, and aid the brutally law-abiding. Make others fear Bane—and fear you—whenever possible." - Yet more Banite dogma

Good is evil, and Evil is good. Good is a lie, and Evil is the truth. The one thing all Banites agree on is that implementing Bane's rule is the only good option for the world.

Banite teaching is clear that a world of firm laws and an orderly society is the only acceptable world to live in. Chaos exists only as a tool to achieve this, and is otherwise sinful. This ideal lawful and regimented society will, naturally, be a surveillance state. The overabundance of divination spells and artefacts used for monitoring thought crimes, and the rank "inquisitor," don't exist in the church for nothing.

Society will be made better when the weakness is purged. By punishing the weak, one of two things will happen; they will break, and either clear the way for the strong, or they will take on the hatred and use it to make themselves stronger.

Dissenting opinion is bad, it breeds chaos and undermines order - and Banites are quite firm in their opinion that nobody else is governing their lands properly.

Under Banite rule, people suddenly "going missing" is just a fact of life. Sometimes they turn up a little worse for wear and/or with a mysterious new personality. Often they're just not coming back.

The good news is that since the death of the last High Imperceptor in recent years, the church hierarchy has apparently fallen apart again!

Banites are no longer quite so united by one long, globe-spanning chain of command and are all splintered into factions, backstabbing each other and fighting over which leader's vision and right to lead is greater than the others'. The lower ranks scheme to take the place of their hated superiors, even as they bow and scrape and dance perfectly to the tune of every command.

Bane is willing to tolerate this to a limited degree, because it keeps his higher ranked followers from abusing their authority for personal gain if the lower ranks have space to undermine them when they're unworthy. A "healthy" amount of infighting will cull the weak and ensure he only has the strongest followers.

There are limits though; start rocking the boat too much and Bane will personally smite you dead in front of everyone to make a point.

The Dark One watches his clergy, keeping an eye on those with potential rising through the ranks, and those whose behaviours are a little erratic for his liking. He's known for speaking directly into their minds, or the minds of the followers around them. Although sometimes he turns away to focus on something beyond mortal ken, which can last years, which is when the infighting tends to get really bad. Elminster likens it to unsupervised rats in a cage, gnawing on each other in frustration.

A Banite who shows signs of weakness and "wavering faith" will be demoted... if they're lucky. Other possible fates include the standard Banite fare of maiming and potential death.

Banites in favour with their deity and superiors will enjoy luxury and promotions: Having fun is allowed as a reward for being a good servant, but is not something you're allowed to take for granted. That's "frivolity" and will breed weakness.

The church mostly gets things done nowadays simply because the lowest ranks of the clergy usually attach themselves to some charismatic mid-higher rank, becoming their obedient and fawning slaves in the hopes that by helping them rise in the ranks their superior will elevate them too. Through this, teamwork is achieved and shit gets done. In the higher ranks, where everybody's too afraid of losing their hard won power, this cooperation tends to die.

The head of a region's Banites is the Inquisitor, all of whom answer to the High Inquisior, who is regarded much like the Pope is by Catholics on Earth. Sometimes the High Inquisitor isn't providing their role as arbiter of Bane's divine will on Toril right, and one or more other Banites make the case for themselves as Bane's real High Inquisitor and schisms result with all the usual drama.

When Banites of equal rank clash on something, technically the deciding factor in who gets the final say is supposed to be who has the highest levels in the cleric class (and thus their higher personal status with Bane). If it's equal, then it comes down to who has the highest influence/reputation amongst the other Banites. Ultimately though, the biggest factor is actually which of them their regional leader likes best (you're either in favour, or out).

Particularly within urban areas, Banites are usually hidden kingpins and crime bosses, working from the shadows. Those who seek power and influence may always turn to the followers of the Black Hand for aid; they are always happy to make friends and lend favours. You want to win the next guild election? You want to be governor? They can do that for you. They will employ bribery, kidnappings, blackmails, arrange assassinations, whatever it takes to get you in power. And then you will have that position you wanted, and you will owe it all to the Church of Bane, and to Bane himself, as their loyal puppet. You will obey every edict of Bane as yet another link in his chains. You will know that they did this for you, that they can do all this to you, and that everybody will know this should you go back on your end of the bargain.

The people who serve those people will also serve Bane, unknowingly. Eventually the entire city will serve, never realising who rules them, until one day the Banites' hold over the region is so ironclad that when they step forward to rule openly, and there is nothing anyone can do about it.

Banite infiltrations are highly organised, and are likened covert military operations, with the leaders given their tasks directly from Bane.

Through these methods, the Church takes over businesses, governments and even entire noble families.

Businesses are of particular interest, as Banites will seek to establish at least some degree of control over regional trade - especially contraband and other illegal businesses, and especially the trade of weapons and slaves. The money they make from this will go towards both the church and their own personal funds.

Few Banites are comfortable openly taking positions of power for themselves until they are certain that it is safe to do so. There's also that little drawback where your siblings in the faith will watch you carefully while holding their breath for a while, to see if you're as secure in your power as you seem to be - and then there's a target on your back because they all want your power for themselves.

Despite losing control, it seems some Banite presence lingers amongst the Zhentarim, where the divide between the cleric-based Orthodoxy and the reformist wizards lives on. The simmering tensions and would-be civil war are held in check only by the presence of beholderkin who will make an example of any idiots that try anything. Bane has no particular interest in seeing his clerics and mages fighting each other, and in most Banite circles the schism has died down. Some of them are even friends and "companions."

(Yes, even Banites have friends. Mr "frivolity should be publicly destroyed - make others fear and hate you" doesn't necessarily approve, but his followers are still only human[oid].)

-

"…Bane is rash, impetuous, and arrogant. He’s no patient, long-term schemer, but lives in the present moment (he wants results NOW). And his pride often makes him over-estimate his own prowess, and ignore his own faults." - Ed Greenwood

Going by some lore; Bane is also an unwitting puppet of Jergal (who is The long-term schemer), intended for one of the older deity's infinite supply of schemes - although his strings are not currently being pulled. He is the dead soul of a mortal man, imbued with divine essence and Jergal's portfolio of Tyranny. "Jergal [on his end] has no intention of treating Bane like a puppet until he has to."

Bane died long before the Three reached Jergal, and the god "stored" his soul away, recognising a similar "quenchless hunger to rule all, and be feared by all through the maliciousness and malevolent [attentiveness] of his rule."

Bane's memory of this has been removed by the Forgotten One, and he wouldn't believe you if you told him so. Whether the other two have had their memories so edited is unknown, but possible.

His original, pre-Time of Troubles holy symbol was intended to be a severed hand in a spiked black gauntlet, dripping blood from the stump (the middle droplet being the longest). The presumed reason for it not appearing in official Realms products is wariness of the Satanic Panic leading to its censorship.

[livesunique]

Ms Luigia "Gina" Lollobrigida OMRI (4 July 1927 – 16 January 2023)

Destined to be called "The Most Beautiful Woman in the World", Ms Lollobrigida was the daughter of a furniture manufacturer, and grew up in the pictorial mountain village. She studied sculpture at Rome’s Academy of Fine Arts, and started her career with minor Italian film roles before coming third in 1947’s Miss Italia pageant. 

After refusing a contract with Howard Hughes to make three pictures in the United States in 1950, Ms Lollobrigida gained for starring turns in 1952’s “Fanfan la Tulipe” and 1953’s “Bread, Love and Dreams,” the latter of which netted her a BAFTA nomination for Best Foreign Actress.

Ms Lollobrigida’s first American film was “Beat the Devil,” a 1953 adventure comedy directed by John Huston that cast her opposite Humphrey Bogart. Over the course of the ’50s and ’60s, she starred in numerous French, Italian and European-shot American productions, with highlights including “Trapeze” with Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtis, “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” as Esmerelda, “Solomon and Sheba” with Yul Brynner, “Never So Flew” with Frank Sinatra and Steve McQueen, “Come September” with Rock Hudson, and “Woman of Straw” with Sean Connery, and “Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell,” with Shelley Winters.

Her roles made her a major sex symbol of Italian cinema; in 1953, she won Italy’s David di Donatello award for Best Actress for her performance in the opera star Lina Cavalieri’s biopic “Beautiful But Dangerous,” known in Italian as “The World’s Most Beautiful Woman.” 

She later won two more David di Donatello Award for “Imperial Venus” and “Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell,” a Golden Medal of the City of Rome in 1986, a 40th Anniversary David in 1996 and a 50th Anniversary David in 2006. In 1961, she won the Golden Globes’ Henrietta Award for “World Fan Favorite,” and received nominations for “Falcon Crest” and “Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell.”

After the ’60s, Lollobrigida’s career began to slow down, but she continued to act intermittently, including in the 1995 Agnes Varda film “Les cent et une nuits de Simon Cinéma,” and in ’80s TV shows such as CBS’ “Falcon Crest” and ABC’s “The Love Boat.” 

Ms Lollobrigida also developed a successful second career in photojournalism during the ’80s. She obtained an exclusive interview with Cuban leader Fidel Castro and also photographed many famous film stars, as well as publishing a number of books of her photographs.

In 2011 she made her final film appearance, playing herself in a cameo for the Italian parody film “Box Office 3D: The Filmest of Films.”

The screen legend sale of some of her 23 jewels from her Bulgari  collection at Sotheby’s in 2013 to help fund an international hospital for stem-cell research. 

On 16 October 1999, Lollobrigida was nominated as a Goodwill Ambassador of the UN Food and Agriculture Organization

Ms  Lollobrigida won the Berlinale Camera at the Berlin Film Festival in 1986, Karlovy Vary Film Festival special prize in 1995, and the Rome Festival’s career prize in 2008. In 2018, she received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Ciao, Gina, Riposa in Pace

(Armando Pietrangeli, “Light and Shadow,” Gina Lollobrigida,1960, Trapeze 1956, Woman Of Rome,1954, Salomon & Sheba,1959, Come September, 1961,Un Bellissimo Novembre,1968, The Hunchback of Notre Dame,1956, In London to publicise her book of photographs titled Italia Mia,1974, Fidel Castro shot by Ms Lollobrigida,1974, Gina Lollobrigida pictured on July 11, 2022 in Rome).

[technicallyonappleduty]

Aziraphale and Crowley Timeline

I made a timeline of the Aziraphale and Crowley relationship based on the TV show, book, stage directions, and Neil Gaiman’s blog. It was designed to track negative space and off-screen interactions for the purposes of fic writing, so maybe other fic writers would enjoy it. Please add anything I missed. I’ll edit as necessary.

Before the Beginning — Nebula rollout

Aziraphale shares his name with a heavy implication that they have not met before.

Crowley tells Nina and Maggie, “We’ve been talking for millions of years,” implying some sort of relationship before Crowley’s fall.

Sunday, October 21, 4004 B.C. at 9:13 a.m. — The creation of the universe

4004 B.C., "just after the beginning" — The Garden of Eden

Crowley (Crawly) tells Aziraphale his new name, which implies minimal interaction since Crowley’s fall. They were aware of each other’s presence in the garden as evidenced by Crowley having noticed the flaming sword.

3004 B.C., Mesopotamia — Noah’s Ark

Crowley follows up on the flaming sword, which implies but does not confirm that they haven’t interacted since Eden.

[3004 BC - 2500 BC: NO INTERACTION as evidenced by Aziraphale’s comment, “I haven’t seen you since the flood.”

2500 B.C., Land of Uz — Job

2000 B.C., Sodom and Gomorrah

It’s confirmed from the TV show that Aziraphale was present (as evidenced by their comment about Sandalphon’s participation)

It’s confirmed from the book that Crowley was not present and did not visit afterwards.

[800 BC - 200 BC: Deleted scene from TV show, Arabian Nights-inspired]

33 A.D., Golgotha — The crucifixion

41 A.D., Rome — Aziraphale runs into Crowley

537 A.D., Kingdom of West Essex — Crowley suggests they stop working just to cancel each other out

[1020 A.D. (BOOK CANON) — Arrangement (non-interference) is established. Then, they extend the arrangement to “hold the fort” for one another.]

[1023 A.D. (BOOK CANON) — Crowley comes back to argue that you need to start people off equal in order to let them choose between good and evil, equivalent of The Resurrectionists in the TV series.]

[1400s: “Papal” scene, cut from TV show]

[1567 A.D. — Mary Queen of Scots dies, this scene was cut and converted to The Resurrectionists]

[1556 AD - 1598 AD (BOOK CANON): Crowley is in Spain when he receives a commendation for the Spanish Inquisition. He checks it out then comes back and gets drunk for a week. Time range is evidenced by the line, “That Hieronymus Bosch,” who is a painter who inspired King Phillip II.]

1601, Globe Theatre, London — Hamlet

CONFIRMED: Multiple interactions between Wessex (537 AD) and now as evidenced by Crowley’s statement that they’ve covered for each other “dozens of times now.”

1650, Unknown — First “I Was Wrong” dance (performed by Aziraphale)

[1600 - 1800, United States: A scene set during the Wild West, cut from TV show]

1793, Paris — The French Revolution

A recent interaction is implied by Crowley saying, “I thought you were opening a bookshop.”

1800, London — The bookshop opens (confirmed that it opened “a couple years” after Mr. Hatchard in Piccadilly, founded 1797)

[Book — Crowley is asleep through most of the 19th century, gets up in 1832 for bathroom]

1820s, U.K. — Aziraphale’s diary excerpt, in which he mentions that he told Crowley the story “afterwards” (although “afterwards” can be a very long time for two immortal beings so it doesn’t confirm much)

1827, Edinburgh  — The Resurrectionists

[Confirmed: “It was the last I was to see of Crowley for quite some time.”]

1862, St. James Park, London — Crowley requests holy water

Their understanding of the agreement is, “Stay out of each other’s way. Lend a hand when needed.”

[1862 - 1941: NO INTERACTION as evidenced by the stage directions that Aziraphale has not seen Crowley in a hundred years.]

1941, London

[1960s: cut scene set in America, note: both female-presenting]

1967, Soho — Aziraphale gets holy water for Crowley

2008, U.K. — Antichrist is born

2013, U.S. — Crowley and Aziraphale both begin work for the Dowlings

[“The story starts, as it will end, in a garden” — although technically garden is no longer where it started]

[bcofl0ve]

Invisible String (Part 5)

(part 5/9)

ship: austin butler x fem!reader

summary: a summer fling when you were working on the set of the shannara chronicles turned your life upside down with a positive pregnancy test after austin returned to the united states. a pregnancy test, and a daughter that you never told him about. until the elvis biopic found him back in your orbit and forced you to face the music.

chapter summary: no multi-chapter fic is complete without the ‘male love interest does some severe ball fumbling’ chapter. *drops this and runs*

word count: 2500

authors note: rated m for explicit smut in the 2nd chunk/day.

i live for comments and love talking about my writing, feel free to pop me an anon anytime!

xxx

June 21st, 2020

Cora was excited to see that Austin was there in the morning, though as you expected less excited by the fact that you had to take him to the airport to go around the globe for a week. She was quiet for the entire car ride, until you pulled around to the gate he needed to be at.

Baz had arranged for him to go through a private terminal after Austin told him you’d be bringing Cora to drop him off, the four year old in question bursting into tears as soon as the car stopped.

Austin got out to grab her while you opened the trunk to get the duffle bag you’d made a pit stop to pick up. And when you peeked around from around the back of the car you found him sitting on the curb, Cora on his knees.

“Gonna go to America and forget ‘bout me again,” She said through hiccups, wiping her nose on her sleeve. You winced and saw Austin do the same, what you thought had been a fine explanation of his four year absence coming back to bite him in the ass.

“I didn’t forget about you baby, I didn’t know about you. And those are different things, right?” He replied and she nodded her head, still in tears.

Me too kid, you thought.

You’d gotten so used to having him around, especially recently, that a one week absence was taking you back to 2015 in some ways. When you’d dropped him off at this very airport not knowing if you’d ever see him again, unknowingly already a few weeks pregnant.

Cora calmed down after a few minutes, and Austin pressed a kiss to both of her cheeks before he stood up to get her back in her car-seat. “I’m gonna miss you so much Cora Jean, could never forget about my favorite girl.”

“P’omise?” She asked, and he linked their pinkies together. “Promise.”

He slid the door halfway closed before going around the backside of the car to you, glancing around to make sure you were alone before pulling you into his arms.

Hell- what was breaking another rule anyways?

Austin kissed the side of your head and you couldn’t help the content sigh that it got out of you.

“Gonna miss me too?” You said as you pulled back to tilt your head up at him, and he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Mm, ask Baz how much I argued with him about needing to go do this.”

Austin laughed lightly, biting loosely on his bottom lip. And if you weren’t still so paranoid about the paparazzi you would’ve kissed him senseless right there on the sidewalk.

“Text when you land in one piece.” You said instead and he promised he would, giving you a tap on the hip as he let you go to grab his bag.

He stopped by the passenger side door to say one last goodbye to Cora, and walked backwards with a wave as he went inside, your gaze following him until he turned and disappeared through security.

---

June 23rd, 2020.

You knew you were going to miss Austin. You just didn’t expect it to ache. And it was to an extent that you didn’t know if you’d be able to enforce the ‘no sleepovers’ rule when he came back.

How much you could break the rules without needing to revisit your (not) relationship status wasn’t lost on you. But it wasn’t something you exactly wanted to think about either, not that it stopped the thought from swirling around your head as you tried to sleep.

You almost jumped when your phone started buzzing and you saw that it was Facetime from Austin as though he could’ve been reading your mind.

A little puzzled as you clicked the answer button because of how early you knew it was in California, a sleepy smile greeted you on the other end.

He was sitting up in bed and you didn’t think he’d left it yet judging by the state of hair, which he pushed out of his eyes lazily.

“Mornin’” You said softly. “What time is it there?”

“5:30.” He replied through a yawn.

You were about to say something about how he sounded like he needed to go back to sleep, but he just kept talking.

“You were in my dream, woke up thinkin’ about how much I miss you.”

That was sweet, you thought, only realizing what he’d been implying by it when his face faltered and he let out of a harsh breath.

Oh.

“Austin,” You started and he let his gaze fall back to you, face growing flushed. “Are you touching yourself?”

He swallowed. “You alright with that?”

“Show me.”

There was some shuffling as he set the phone on his nightstand and sat up more, his lower half coming into view. He was stroking himself, and the little sounds you could hear him making under his breath made you press your thighs together.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, and moved to hold your phone with one hand as you tugged down your pajama shorts.

“You,” He said gruffly, reaching for his phone to flip the camera and give you a closer view of what he was doing. “How beautiful you look when you’re straddling my lap and I can feel how turned on you are.”

The closer view of his dick, leaking precum that he swiped over and smeared down the shift made you feel damp, your center throbbing as you tugged your panties down.

Circling your clit slowly, you didn’t make a scene of announcing what you were doing. But a little moan escaped and you could sense when Austin heard it.

“Yeah yeah, touch yourself for me.” He mumbled and you squirmed as you circled your bundle of nerves faster, loosening up in regards to the sounds leaving your mouth.

“The noises you make are so pretty. Miss hearing them in my ear when you’re all filled up with my cock.”

Finding your senses enough to flip the camera off of your face, the low “Shit baby.” you heard when he saw the view went right at your arousal.

You pumped two fingers inside of yourself, but couldn’t go long without needing stimulation back on your clit.

Slowly pulling them out, you dragged the wetness up your slit back to the bundle of nerves where you went back to rubbing yourself off.

Austin’s voice shook when he started talking again, his tell for when he was getting close. Managing to talk through it, he blabbered incoherently about how much he missed you and couldn’t wait to be home.

And the use of home would’ve been something you gave more thought if you weren’t edging up to your orgasm, chest heaving.

“Aus, I’m gonnna-” You choked out, your own words cut off with a whine as you tried to hold back.

“Lemme see that pretty face when you come.”

Barely able to focus long enough to do so, you hit the button, Austin appearing to have the same struggle flipping his camera. You only got a brief glance at him before your head dropped back against the headboard, thighs shaking as you reached your peak.

“Iloveyou.”

He whispered those three words slurred together as one as his climax rolled through him and came in his hand, the phrase cutting through the overdrive your orgasm had sent your brain into like a knife. When you came back to your senses and looked at your phone you were met with a view of the hotel ceiling.

You cleared your throat and there was some shuffling before Austin came into view again, face flushed.

“Dropped my phone in all the excitement,” He joked with an exhale and you laughed softly.

You almost forgot what he had just said a few seconds ago until you didn’t, a remembrance which made you suck in a breath. But if he noticed he didn’t say anything.

“Go get some sleep and I’ll talk to you later ‘kay?” He said tiredly and you said your goodbyes.

Yeah, you thought, sleep was going to come so much easier now.

---

June 24th, 2020

“Okay whatever you’re hiding, out with it.”

You hadn’t seen Leah for longer than a quick coffee run the past couple weeks, a combination of both your actual schedule with Elvis and how much time you’d been spending with Austin. You knew she was smart enough to put together the pieces in regards to you asking her to come over for the night for the first time in weeks the second Austin was out of town. So really, you should’ve expected the interrogation.

“Are you pregnant?” She asked, voice serious, and you choked on the water you were sipping.

“No!” You said through a laugh, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you plopped down next to her on the couch. “God no, you’d know if I was.”

“I mean I also thought I’d know if you and Austin were back together,” She started, and her tone was light but you could tell there was some degree of real hurt behind it, even if small. You’d told each other everything since you were in 4th grade. Except you hadn’t looped her in about Austin, her or your mother. It was embarrassing, but a part of you was scared the second you got too excited about it it would all come crashing down.

Not to mention you felt especially anxious about the fragility of it all after when he’d let slip on the phone. It hadn’t come back up, not yet, which you knew you should’ve been grateful for.

But the idea that he regretted it, or worse didn’t mean it all made your chest tight.

“It’s not personal,” You said to Leah and her eyes widened at the confirmation before you could finish your thought.

“Hey- I get that. But I also kinda wasn’t expecting to be right!”

She was damn near giddy, leaning forward with her hands folded under her chin.

“We aren’t in a relationship, just. Just friends with benefits,”

“And a four year old.” She supplied, and you gave her a half serious glare.

But before you could quip back your phone was ringing where it had been resting in your lap, Austin’s caller ID flashing across the screen.

Doing quick math in your head you realized with some concern that it had to be a little after two in the morning in California. So you picked up, gesturing at Leah something to the effect of “If you say a word I’ll kill you.”

You barely got out a “Hi” before Austin was talking, talking so fast he was almost stuttering. “You gotta listen to me, you’re gonna see something soon, probably, and I need you to know it’s not what it looks like.”

You hadn’t put him on speaker phone but Leah was sitting close enough to hear him, her eyes widening. She pulled out her own phone and started tapping it at, and you already didn’t like where this was going.

“What’s not what it looks like? I don’t understand,”

Your stomach dropped when you heard Leah gasp next to you, and she tried to turn her screen away when you leaned over to look but wasn’t fast enough.

There was a tabloid headline you couldn’t really process, eyes going right to the photos underneath it. You recognized Vanessa leaning against the wall just inside what looked like a hotel lobby. And then you recognized Austin in front of her, head tilted down in Vanessa’s direction with a hand on her upper arm.

He must’ve realized what your silence meant, clearing this throat before he started talking again.

“She wanted to talk, get the timeline of when Cora was conceived. I owed her an explanation,”

Blinking, you sat back against the couch arm, gripping your phone so hard your knuckles started going white. “In the middle of the night?”

“She’s been just as busy as me,” He supplied and that felt like a lie, but if it was that was the least important aspect of all this at least.

“Did you sleep with her?”

There was a pregnant pause, and your chest contracted even more than it already had, the rationale that you weren’t in a relationship so you couldn't be that hurt leaving your body.

“Iloveyou.”

“Iloveyou.”

“Iloveyou.”

“Hey- last time I checked you and me aren’t in a relationship, so-” Austin started again, voice growing tight.

You cut him off.

“The kid running around with your face is just a figment of my imagination then, yeah?”

Some part of you knew bringing Cora into it was low, but you also didn’t have it in you to care all that much.

Standing up off the couch because you couldn’t sit still anymore, you avoided Leah’s concerned look.

“She might as well have been to me for the past four years! You know what, sometimes it’s like you don’t even feel a little bad for what you did.”

He’d raised his voice and you raised yours right back, even though your hands shook as you did.

“And this is exactly why I don’t! Cora deserves better than someone who freaks out and full 180s the second things get a little too hard Austin."

“Whaddya mean by that?” He replied after a beat, voice lower. “I told you I tried to get out of this trip, Baz-”

“I heard you last night. “I love you.””

The line went nearly dead silent then and you only knew he hadn’t hung up by the sound of his breathing.

You waited a little bit for him to say something, anything. Until you felt tears pooling behind your eyes and knew you needed to get off the phone before this got even more embarrassing than it already was.

“But it’s good to know you didn’t mean it.”

“Y/N wait, please-”

You felt a sob bubbling in your throat and hung up three words into whatever he was going to say, dropping shakily back onto the couch.

You couldn’t make yourself meet Leah’s eyes and just stared at the ground, fidgeting with your hands as you tried to keep from completely breaking down.

“Oh honey,” She whispered, scooting closer and letting an arm fall around you. You let your head drop to her shoulder and one- two seconds passed before you were really crying.

About the fight, what you were sure it meant for Cora, alongside your job. And over how stupid you felt for thinking that maybe things would actually work out this time.

---

austin ⚡️

June 25th, 2020 at 8:05 AM

“Hi, it’s me. You already knew that I guess. I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from right now but I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I hate fighting with you and I know you had your reasons for being pissed but I wasn’t bullshitting when I said there was more to it. Vanessa and I didn’t sleep together, we’d been drinking while we talked- and we made out. I know you’re not gonna like that either. But she wanted to go farther and I said I couldn’t, that even what we did was a huge mistake. She asked if it was because I was involved with you and I told her everything. About how it’s felt to fall back in sync with you after all these years, and the rules that we kinda stopped keeping and what I let slip on the phone- that bein’ a dad has given me a lot to think about.

I think we need to talk when I get back. About us, and about what I said and what you wanna do with all that. Give Cora a kiss for me, okay? I uh- I’ll see you when I see you. Bye.”

xxx

tag list (tags don’t always work, i do my best!): @chernayawidow @theinvisiblecapricorn @aalishifts @mavericksicybabe @cryingabtab @kittenlittle24 @invisiblee-smoke @mrs-munson-quinn @cevans-winchester @kikilovesdankmemes @oh-austin @chrissie-soula @starcatchxr @butlervol6 @thedeviltohisangel @redhoods-gf @gabrielajimenez @stlover288 @alqvarde @loudwombatmugkid @austinbrainrot @ab4eva @m0ndayagain @marlowmode @kingbouji3 @gardenavenue @yeonimii @eliseinmemphis @blurredcolour @tiddieshakeshownu @fallininlovewithurlove @briannaisanxious @amiets2 @karamelcoveredolicity @amnmich @mrsniallhoran505

[wolf-knights]

Someone New

Pairing: Derek Morgan x m!reader (ftm)

A/N: the wait is over! I have finally found the motivation to write this fic again so yeah, I hope this is good and you all enjoy it...

mentions: strong language(?), drinking, gay pining(?), mentions of smut(in the first chapter who am I), mentions of pedophilia and the normal CM stuff. DO NOT READ IF UNCOMFORTABLE. FEM ALIGNED AND AGELESS BLOGS DONT INTERACT. if theres any warning i left out please let me know.

-> 18+only, do not repost, copy or translate my works nor post them anywhere else. Minors and ageless blogs do not interact with my blog or my fics. Reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated.

You were woken up by the obnoxiously loud ring tone of your phone, you groan and grab it and with out looking who was calling you pick it up "hello it's y/n" a female voice breaks through "y/n hi, it's Katie" you sit up and rub your eyes "hi Katie, is everything okay?" you ask "uhh you remember Peter?" "the boy we were looking for last year." you ask back "yes he is back, I have called for agent hotchner at the BAU and I want you there aswell." she tells you and you respond with "I'll be there in 30" you reply "get the files too" Katie tells you and cuts the call. You sit in your bed for a bit before getting up and ready. You get the files and your car keys, you head to the BAU.

As you walk in where katie and the rest of the team is you see them already talking about the case and annonce "We narrowed the location down to the eastern United States." you interrupt and all of them turn to look at you "agent l/n everyone, I asked for his help previously on this case, I asked for it again." katie introduces you and everyone does the same "hello, it's nice to meet you again katie." you say and hand her the files before she countinues "as I was saying, we had some suspects in, but the trail went cold." she says "until today." "with all due respect, miss cole. How is this time going to be any different?" agent morgan says "we have a starting point." she replies as you look through the new files "the location where the image was first discovered?" agent hotchner asks "a chat room, hosted by an independent web company in Cleveland, Ohio." Katie explains "And this time I'm bringing all you with me" she says

As you all arrive at Cleveland, Katie, you, and the agents decide to pay a visit to the chat room vendor. As you all entre the office agent morgan says "FBI. We have a warrant to search these premises. Stop doing what you are doing right now." and all of you show your badges, while you look around "Can somebody tell me who owns this place?" Morgan asks and someone clears their throat "that'd be me." the owner says while standing "I want access to your chat room databases." Katie says

After awhile of trying to look through the database, agent gideon gets a call from jj saying that they have found another child being held somewhere. All of you get in the car with the fbi vests, when you all arrive at the house you all run to the house with your guns pulled out.

After awhile of trying to look through the database, agent gideon gets a call from jj saying that they have found another child being held somewhere. All of you get in the car with the fbi vests, when you all arrive at the house you all run to the house with your guns pulled out.

Turns out the boy, Kevin was just filming himself trying to make a little money but he had the file of Peter's video. You sigh as you all walk downstairs while removing your vests, you walk infront of derek and lean against the railing of the stairs "the father's been in jail for the last 8 months. In that time, Kevin's been selling the only thing he's got, which is himself." agent hotchner informs all of you "just like a street hustler." derek adds "only now the street is the internet." Katie says "and his client base spans the globe." you add "this kid definitely uploaded Peter's video to the chat room, because it's still on his computer." agent morgan says "yeah, but not the live feed." agent hotchner "he say how he got hold of the video?" agent gideon says "he said it came from one of his clients. It was a shared file. They'd gone around these chat groups" agent hotchner replies "it's possible. Buyers and sellers routine. They trade files because the act in itself is an illegal act, which proves they are not police." Katie says "let's go see what else we can find out." As Katie tries to get the passwords to work, Derek walks over to the kid "kid, the boy whose video you've been sending around to all the chat rooms, he's gonna be sold from one pedophile to another." Derek tells Kevin as he just sits there "boo...hoo" Kevin says as it doesn't bother him as all of you sigh "these are dummy logs." Katie says as she looks at the boy "You can't get to your father, but you can get to the guy who's hurting this boy" agent Agent hotchner says as all of you look at Kevin hoping that he might understand.

After getting through to Kevin and getting him to agree to do the face to face with Mehtevas, getting to Hayden had been the easy part you would say. As Kevin walks away, Hayden or Mehtevas tries to follow him, the car pulls up as agent Morgan gets out of the car and aggressively handles Hayden before Katie and you try to calm/stop him "agent morgan" you call out "I didn't do anything" Hayden said nervously as Katie runs up up to them "Agent Morgan, take it easy. Take it easy" she advised

Turns out he was a principle of a school. As you take him to his office where agent Greenaway and Dr. Reid were searching through his office, he tried to argue about not doing anything. Standing outside of his office Katie pulls out a photo of Peter "how can someone hurt something so..." "pure" agent Gideon completes his sentence "you sent this image to Kevin" you say "well that was wrong of me, I know but i-i was so shocked" you tried not to roll your eyes "I wanted to try and save the poor boy, I thought Hugz uh-Kevin might know him that's why sent him the link to the website, see if he knew" agent morgan starts to walk towards Mr. Rawlings "Please. You were trying to save him?" before Mr. Rawling could say anything agent Gideon insisted derek to go help the other two search the office. As you all enter the office and agent gideon asked Mr. Rawlings to sit as Agent Morgan and Greenaway with Dr. Reid try to find a way into his computer soon finding the password.

You all walk where the other three were with Mr. Rawlings as Derek moves a chair towards the table agent Greenaway was sitting at before mentioning for him to sit, Mr. Rawling was getting angrier and nervous as the time went by, Derek gets a call from Garcia. Mr. Rawling tries to defend himself by saying that everything on his computer was for research for a book "No, it's not research, it's a 100 year in federal penitentiary" after that he quickly admitted to things.

As you get into the site with the code, they arrest Mr. Rawling but soon the sites goes down as the unsub figures out that you all were on to him. Taking the lead Garcia had given derek after looking at Peter's tadpole shirt, you all drive up to mount pleasant with two hours on the clock. Agent Jareau had bought some time by broadcasting a fake news into thr media which got the live feed up. You head to the church from where you find out that Peter's actual name is Charlie.

"the name the school has is Charlie Springs" agent hotchner says as he walks up to the rest of the team "no sparks in any of the phone directories" agent gideon added to what agent hotchner said "then we start over again" Katie says looking at you "we don't have alot of time left" you say before Dr.Reid interrupts the conversation which made you all figure out that you and Katie might have interviewed the unsub and he would be in the records as soon as agent gideon proposed the idea Derek's watch indicate that you all had ran out of time but Katie doesn't give up she rings up Amanda trying to find out who the unsub is by pulling out the original files on Peter's case and to get the name of everyone who you both had interviewed back then with the help of Garcia. Through which you figure out two of the 10 people that were interviewed lived within 10 minutes of where you guys were derek tells you all "a Patrick Forest and a Michael Earlson"

"Patrick Forest isn't smart enough to pull this all together" Katie says as she paces around "but Michael Earlson is" you added.

Getting to his house before something happened was the crucial part. As he pulled out of his drive way as the FBI cars pull up. Michael tries to make a run for it but Derek gets a hold of him and arrests him. As you and Katie look in the car for Charlie, you look through the front as Katie looks in the trunk, you see what Katie found making your way towards her to see Charlie alive...

{timeskip to later that night}

That night you had gone home thinking you were just going to drink, have dinner and read but turns out as you got comfortable on the couch reading the book, you hear a knock on your door which made you let out a small groan before getting up and putting on your robe to go open the door to see derek standing there and he hears the music and the atmosphere of your apartment "hi Derek. What are you doing here?" you asked confused, he smirks but their was something in that smirk you couldn't quite put your finger on "seems like you might have a company over" to which you laugh and shake your head "wish I could but no I was just enjoying a bath" you say as you invite him in before turning on the lights "well you look nice with your hair down like that" Derek says which makes you blush a little a reaction you weren't expecting from yourself "um thank you, you don't look to bad yourself with that leather jacket" you try to not stutter, he laughs a little "thanks but that reminds me you left your jacket on my desk in the BAU" you let out a small sigh "that's where it was" you take it from him and thank him "um d-do you want to stay for a drink" you ask and look at him and he agrees "sure why not pretty face" it makes you let a small laugh like huff as you go to get the drinks after asking him to sit on the couch

You come back with the drinks and hand him one and sit on the couch with him, your drink in your hand as you ask him "so...tell me about yourself, handsome" the moment those words leave your mouth, you shake your head "I'm never saying that again" you laugh as Derek shakes his head with a laugh as the conversation starts flowing easily between the two of you.

As the time passed by, neither of you realized the time or how many glasses of wine you both had consumed. The alcohol that fogged your brains consuming every thought you had, walking to your bedroom as your lips collided. With the warm yet rough hands resting on your waist whilst your's grip his shirt...

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Tagging:

@csb87

@hi5321

@stealing-kneecaps

I hope you all enjoy it and I hope you all are having a great day/night ❤️

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Mike Luckovich ::

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

February 10, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

FEB 11, 2024

A key story that got missed yesterday was that the Senate voted 64–19 to allow a bill that includes $95.34 billion in aid for Ukraine, Israel, and Taiwan to advance a step forward. In terms of domestic politics, this appears to be an attempt by those who controlled the Republican Party before Trump to push back against Trump and the MAGA Republicans. 

MAGA lawmakers had demanded border security measures be added to a national security supplemental bill that provided this international aid, as well as humanitarian aid to Gaza, but to their apparent surprise, a bipartisan group of lawmakers actually hammered out that border piece. Trump immediately demanded an end to the bill and MAGA obliged on Wednesday, forcing the rest of the party to join them in killing the national security supplemental bill. House Republicans then promptly tried to pass a measure that provided funding for Israel alone.

At stake behind this fight is not only control of the Republican Party, but also the role of the U.S. in the world—and, for that matter, its standing. And much of that fight comes down to Ukraine’s attempt to resist Russia’s invasions of 2014 and 2022. 

Russian president Vladimir Putin is intent on dismantling the rules-based international order of norms and values developed after World War II. Under this system, international organizations such as the United Nations provide places to resolve international disputes, prevent territorial wars, and end no-holds-barred slaughter through a series of agreements, including the United Nations Charter, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the U.N. Genocide Convention, and the Geneva Conventions on the laws of war. 

Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, deliberate targeting of civilian populations, and war crimes are his way of thumbing his nose at the established order and demanding a different one, in which men like him dominate the globe. 

Trump’s ties to Russia are deep and well documented, including by the Senate Intelligence Committee, which was dominated by Republicans when it concluded that Trump’s 2016 campaign team had worked with Russian operatives. In November 2022, in the New York Times Magazine, Jim Rutenberg pulled together testimony given both to Special Counsel Robert Mueller’s investigation and the Senate Intelligence Committee, transcripts from the impeachment hearings, and recent memoirs. 

Rutenberg showed that in 2016, Russian operatives had presented to Trump advisor and later campaign manager Paul Manafort a plan “for the creation of an autonomous republic in Ukraine’s east, giving Putin effective control of the country’s industrial heartland, where Kremlin-armed, -funded, and -directed ‘separatists’ were waging a two-year-old shadow war that had left nearly 10,000 dead.” 

But they were concerned that the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) might stand in their way. Formed in 1947 to stand against Soviet expansion and now standing against Russian aggression, NATO is a collective security alliance of 31 states that have agreed to consider an attack on any member to be an attack on all.

In exchange for weakening NATO, undermining the U.S. stance in favor of Ukraine in its attempt to throw off the Russians who had invaded in 2014, and removing U.S. sanctions from Russian entities, Russian operatives were willing to put their finger on the scales to help Trump win the White House. 

When he was in office, Trump did, in fact, try to weaken NATO—as well as other international organizations like the World Health Organization—and promised he would pull the U.S. out of NATO in a second term, effectively killing it. Rutenberg noted that Russia’s February 2022 invasion of Ukraine looks a lot like an attempt to achieve the plan it suggested in 2016. But because there was a different president in the U.S., that invasion did not yield the results Putin expected. 

President Joe Biden stepped into office more knowledgeable on foreign affairs than any president since Dwight Eisenhower, who took office in 1953. Biden recognized that democracy was on the ropes around the globe as authoritarian leaders set out to dismantle the rules-based international order. He also knew that the greatest strength of the U.S. is its alliances. In the months after he took office, Biden focused on shoring up NATO, with the result that when Russia invaded Ukraine again in February 2022, a NATO coalition held together to support Ukraine.

By 2024, far from falling apart, NATO was stronger than ever with the addition of Finland. Sweden, too, is expected to join shortly. 

But far more than simply shore up the old system, the Biden administration has built on the stability of the rules-based order to make it more democratic, encouraging more peoples, nations, and groups to participate more fully in it. In September 2023, Secretary of State Antony Blinken explained to an audience at the Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies that the end of the Cold War made people think that the world would inevitably become more peaceful and stable as countries cooperated and emphasized democracy and human rights. 

But now, Blinken said, that era is over. After decades of relative stability, authoritarian powers have risen to challenge the rules-based international order, throwing away the ideas of national sovereignty and human rights. As wealth becomes more and more concentrated, people are losing faith in that international order as well as in democracy itself. In a world increasingly under pressure from authoritarians who are trying to enrich themselves and stay in power, he said, the administration is trying to defend fair competition, international law, and human rights. 

Historically, though, the U.S. drive to spread democracy has often failed to rise above the old system of colonialism, with the U.S. and other western countries dictating to less prosperous countries. The administration has tried to avoid this trap by advancing a new form of international cooperation that creates partnerships and alignments of interested countries to solve discrete issues. These interest-based alignments, which administration officials refer to as “diplomatic variable geometry,” promise to preserve U.S. global influence and perhaps an international rules-based order but will also mean alliances with nations whose own interests align with those of the U.S. only on certain issues.  

In the past three years, the U.S. has created a new security partnership with Australia and the United Kingdom, known as AUKUS, and held a historic, first-ever trilateral leaders’ summit at Camp David with Japan and the Republic of Korea. It has built new partnerships with nations in the Indo-Pacific region, as well as with Latin American and Caribbean countries, to address issues of immigration; two days ago the Trilateral Fentanyl Committee met for the fourth time in Mexico. This new system includes a wider range of voices at the table—backing the membership of the African Union in the Group of 20 (G20) economic forum, for example—advancing a form of cooperation in which every international problem is addressed by a group of partner nations that have a stake in the outcome. 

At the same time, the U.S. recognizes that wealthier countries need to step up to help poorer countries develop their own economies rather than mine them for resources. Together with G7 partners, the U.S. has committed to deliver $600 billion in new investments to develop infrastructure across the globe—for example, creating a band of development across Africa.

Biden’s is a bold new approach to global affairs, based on national rights to self-determination and working finally to bring an end to colonialism. 

The fight over U.S. aid to Ukraine, Israel, Taiwan, and the other countries with which we have made partnerships is not about saving money—most of the funds for Ukraine are actually spent in the U.S.—or about protecting the U.S. border, as MAGA Republicans demonstrated when they killed the border security bill. It is about whether the globe will move into the 21st century, with all its threats of climate change, disease, and migration, with ways for nations to cooperate, or whether we will be at the mercy of global authoritarians. 

Trump’s 2024 campaign website calls for “fundamentally reevaluating NATO’s purpose and NATO’s mission,” and in a campaign speech in South Carolina today, he made it clear what that means. Trump has long misrepresented the financial obligations of NATO countries, and today he suggested that the U.S. would not protect other NATO countries that were “delinquent” if they were attacked by Russia. “In fact,” he said, “I would encourage [Russia] to do whatever the hell they want.”

—

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[mariacallous]

Last week, as the International Court of Justice (ICJ) issued a provisional ruling in South Africa’s lawsuit against Israel, it sent an authoritative message to the world: Allegations of genocide against Israel are not meritless. Notwithstanding Hamas’s unlawful conduct that started the war last October, the court clearly indicated an overwhelming disapproval of the way that Israel has been fighting the war—stating, notably, that Palestinians face a “real and imminent risk” to their right to be protected from acts of genocide.

Even though the court did not rule on the merits of the genocide allegations, which may take years, it evoked strong reactions from around the globe. While human rights experts and groups welcomed the ruling, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu decried the court’s decision, protesting the court’s willingness to hear the case at all.

In any case, the ICJ decision offers an opportunity for lasting peace that should not be missed. For that, credit must go to South Africa for bringing the case.

Pretoria’s “moral leadership,” as some have called it, has garnered support from many countries throughout the global south. However, other countries such as Germany, the United Kingdom, and the United States have opposed the lawsuit. Not only has Antony Blinken, the U.S. secretary of state, declared South Africa’s case “meritless,” he’s also argued that the case “distracts the world” from efforts to find a lasting solution to the conflict.

While both sides are entitled to their own views, it is wrong to suggest that a case that seeks to stem the bloodbath is an attempt to distract the world from more durable paths to peace at a time when the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is threatening to provoke a wider regional war. Since lasting solutions cannot be found within the chambers of the political organs of the United Nations, including the Security Council, which has become hopelessly dysfunctional, solutions must be sought elsewhere.

Rather than criticize South Africa for daring to launch the lawsuit that asks whether the Genocide Convention has been violated, a more constructive criticism would be to argue that Pretoria limited its case too narrowly with regard to the parties involved and the scope of its litigation—namely, by not initiating proceedings against Hamas and failing to examine crimes other than genocide, such as war crimes and crimes against humanity, which are often committed under the cover of war.

South Africa’s case mainly rests on the principle that international lawyers call obligation erga omnes. According to that doctrine, the obligation to protect human rights and humanity from acts of violence is an obligation owed to the whole world—even if they are not direct victims of said violations. Therefore, any country is entitled to bring legal action to ensure continued protection of the concerned rights , as  Gambia, Canada, the Netherlands, and Ukraine have done in the past.

However, South Africa oddly limited the parties to the proceedings by omitting to initiate proceedings against Hamas, which it could have done by including Palestine as a nominal party in the case. This limitation likely results from the argument that Hamas is not a state actor, and therefore its actions cannot be adjudicated at the ICJ. That argument is flawed.

Considering that Hamas is the organization that performs the functions of government in Gaza, a geographic entity forming part of Palestine—which is recognized as a U.N. observer state—it is mistaken to argue that it is not a state actor which could trigger the international responsibility of Palestine. According to the U.N.’s Draft Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, the conduct of Hamas, as the acting governmental authority in Gaza, is justiciable at the ICJ (just as the conduct of Arizona, a U.S. state, was justiciable at the ICJ in a 2001 case between Germany and the United States).

Another reason for the limitation likely results from the political debate about Palestine as a state. Given that 139 countries have recognized Palestine as a state and the U.N. General Assembly has voted to recognize Palestine as a nonmember observer state, the obstacle to initiating proceedings against Palestine at the ICJ depends on the practices of the ICJ. Indeed, Palestine is listed among the states that may be parties to proceedings before the ICJ. Notably, in 2018, the same year it was admitted as a state party to the ICJ statute, Palestine challenged the U.S. relocation of its embassy to Israel from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem.

All this is to say that it might have been preferable for South Africa to initiate proceedings against Hamas, too. Israel had compellingly argued before the ICJ that any provisional order by the court to halt the fighting would tie Israel’s hands and not Hamas’s. That argument offers a better explanation for why the  ICJ’s ruling did not go as far as to order an immediate cease-fire, though it indicated several provisional measures requiring Israel to prevent acts of genocide.

By omitting to include Hamas as a party to ICJ proceedings, South Africa lost the opportunity to actually try to halt the ongoing armed conflict by compelling both sides to stop fighting—given that the Security Council has proved unable to adopt a resolution calling for an immediate humanitarian cease-fire.

South Africa also unduly limited the scope of its litigation by confining it to the question of genocide. World leaders, including U.S. President Joe Biden, who argued that Israel was entitled to defend itself and go after Hamas, have criticized Israel for indiscriminate bombings that have killed innocent civilians in Gaza, including women and children, in unprecedented numbers in recent history.

In its defense, Israel argued that it also found the scale of civilian casualties and destruction in Gaza truly heartbreaking, and that it was doing its best to minimize harm to civilians. This defense was made in spite of the many disturbing utterances of multiple Israeli officials suggesting otherwise, and the critical observations of some Israeli citizens, including soldiers, suggesting a lack of restraint. Still, Israel refused to slow down—insisting at once that it must continue bombing and attacking Gaza until it had eliminated Hamas.

The Convention against Genocide is not the only document that Pretoria could have turned to; it could have also cited the Geneva Conventions of 1949 and their First Additional Protocol of 1977, a set of treaties which in one form or another bind all nations when fighting wars. The 1949 conventions criminalize the willful killing and willful infliction of great suffering on civilian populations as well as the destruction of civilian property beyond military necessity. The 1977 protocol details the principle of proportionality and forbids indiscriminate attacks.

In any war in which there are conflicting accusations and denials about violations of these norms, the legally proper recourse is to pose those questions to the ICJ—just as countries such as the Netherlands and Canada did in their case against Syria about violation of the Convention against Torture.

It is unreasonable and fundamentally counterproductive to criticize judicial proceedings before international courts, especially when parties are seeking to intervene in life-and-death situations that the global political institutions have otherwise been unable to resolve. Indeed, no nation should object to using judicial proceedings as a last resort in seeking to stop a war.

The irony is inescapable. Since 1928, states have agreed to renounce war as an instrument of state policy and to use peaceful means—including adjudication—to resolve differences instead, an idea subsequently enshrined in the U.N. Charter. Today, there is widespread concern that the ongoing war in Gaza could broaden the conflict across the region or beyond. Given that risk, it is startling that any responsible state would support continuing an armed conflict that has killed so many and destroyed so much, when no effort had been made to use peaceful means of settlement—apart from the brief cease-fire and prisoner exchange last November.

Putting the legal merits of these cases aside, there is much value in countries such as Gambia, Canada, the Netherlands, Ukraine, and South Africa bringing these kinds of proceedings to the ICJ. If nothing else, the recent case has forced the international community to confront the problem of armed conflict, even if the only way left to do that is through the international courts. The cases allow judges to cut through all the political noise to answer legal questions.

Additionally, such litigation can help to quell the cacophony of recriminations—allegations, denials, and counter-allegations of genocide, war crimes, apartheid, crimes against humanity, and wars of aggression—that these events invariably generate. These lawsuits thus invite trained experts—specifically, highly-qualified judges from across the world, assisted by the briefs and arguments of able counsel—to deliberate these questions and then declare to the world whether there is merit in the allegations, so that they are not left at the level of defamatory political insults or disingenuous denials.

International courts now seem to be the last hope for humanity in a world where the possibilities of science have been harnessed by states to maximize destruction, while the U.N.’s ability to curb the scourge of war has largely failed.

[cyarskaren52]

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A post shared by AFRICAN AND BLACK HISTORY (@africanarchives)

africanarchives

Cicely Tyson was an actress and fashion model. In a career which spanned more than seven decades, she became known for her portrayal of strong African-American women. Tyson was discovered by a photographer for Ebony magazine and became a popular fashion model in the early 50s. Her first acting role was on the NBC series Frontiers of Faith in 1951. Tyson got her first play role in 1950 and her first film role in Carib Gold in 1956. Tyson appeared on the popular television series East Side/West Side and the soap opera The Guiding Light.

She was nominated for the Academy and Golden Globe Awards for Best Actress for her performance as Rebecca Morgan in Sounder (1972), also winning the NSFC Best Actress and NBR Best Actress Awards. She starred in The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman (1974), for which she won two Emmy Awards and was nominated for a BAFTA Award. Tyson has been nominated for thirteen Primetime Emmy Awards, winning three.

In 2011, she appeared in the film The Help, for which she received awards for her ensemble work as Constantine from the BFCA and SAG Awards and she has an additional four SAG Award nominations. She starred on Broadway in The Trip to Bountiful as Carrie Watts, for which she won the Tony Award, Outer Critics Award, and Drama Desk Award for Best Actress in a Play. She previously received a Drama Desk Award in 1962 for her Off-Broadway performance in Moon on a Rainbow Shawl.

Tyson was named a Kennedy Center honoree in 2015. In November 2016, Tyson received the Presidential Medal of Freedom, which is the highest civilian honor in the United States. In 2020, she was inducted into the Television Hall of Fame.

Tyson's memoir, Just As I Am, was published on January 26, 2021, and she was promoting the book during the last weeks of her life. When she was asked how she wanted to be remembered in an interview with Gayle King, Tyson said, "I’ve done my best. That’s all."

Tyson died on January 28, 2021, at the age of 96. Her funeral was held February 16 in Harlem, and was attended by Tyler Perry, Lenny Kravitz, and Bill and Hillary Clinton.

🖋️You can tip on www.africanarchives.support to support the page 🖤 thanks!—link in bio—

[darkmaga-retard]

The American public must be informed, explains the Commission on the National Defense Strategy in a new report. Despite war propaganda daily flooding Washington, the CNDS complained that people “have been inadequately informed by government leaders of the threats to U.S. interests—including to people’s everyday lives—and what will be required to restore American global power and leadership.” 

In the Commission’s view, the United States is at great risk. Threats are multiplying around the globe. Only great effort can save the country. Americans must turn over more of their money and sacrifice more of their liberties. They must be scared into compliance.

In fact, this is nonsense. For decades the United States has been the most secure great power ever. The U.S. has dominated its continent and entire hemisphere since the mid-19th century. Surrounded by deep waters east and west and weak neighbors north and south, America is largely invulnerable to attack. 

[weirdestbooks]

Hawaiian Propaganda (Wattpad | Ao3)

Table of Contents | Prev | Next

Hawaii's interview was written with the help of @aloha-from-angel

Propaganda Poster created in March 1942

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Error Showing Image

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[Image Description: At the top of the image are the words “Remember Pearl Harbor…Work~Fight~Sacrifice!!” and at the bottom of the image are the words “We’ll remember—and by God, you won’t forget!!” The image shows the top part of a globe, without any type of geography, with an image of Hawaiʻi lying down on top of the globe. She is noticeably drawn as white, and there is a large knife in her back. Clutching the glove is a racist caricature of a Japanese soldier. The soldier is very monkey-like in appearance. The right hand of the Japanese soldier is dripping blood and being pulled away from Hawaiʻi by Uncle Sam’s hand. The arm of Uncle Sam is labeled as “130,000,000 United Americans.”]

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Recording of an interview of Hawaiʻi, 9 September 2022. Interviewed by Mahinanuioalii “Mahina” Wakabayashi of the Myosotis Project. Transcribed by Angel Canesta.

[Start Recording]

[Shuffling of Papers]

Interviewer: September 9th, 2022. Interview with the State of Hawaiʻi about the role of Propaganda in the Second World War. Hello Miss Hawaiʻi, my name is Mahina Wakabayashi. It is an honor and a pleasure to be able to meet you face to face.

State of Hawaiʻi: It’s very nice to meet you, too. Wakabayashi. That’s a nice last name. You related to Charlie Boy?

Interviewer: No, Ma’am.

Hawaiʻi: Shame, he’s a good boy. [Long pause.] So what, I don’t get Miss Corbelha to question me about this? I thought Sera would be the questioner, she’d like this kind of information for her editing of that biography she’s making. Anyways, what was the topic again?

Interviewer: She wished to, but unfortunately, Sera’s schedule didn’t allow it. And we are speaking about propaganda during the Second World War, Miss Hawaiʻi.

Hawaiʻi: Right. Oh, f*ck, I was in quite a few of those films and posters, wasn’t I? Don’t remember all of them. Those years were very blurry for me, with the martial law and all fogging up my brain. 

Interviewer: How exactly did martial law affect you? We know very little from first-hand sources what something on that level of almost mind control to be. What was that like?

Hawaiʻi: Sort of like a dream. You vaguely know something’s wrong, but you don’t question it. You watch, and you don’t speak back, and you say, “Yes, Sir, yes, I will let you take photos of me in clothing no man nor woman in the war effort would ever wear.” Those stupid little skirts were the bane of my existence.

Interviewer: I completely understand. And what was it like being “woken up”?

Hawaiʻi: Am I allowed to be blunt on this thing? It was a nightmare to finally have your mind cleared enough to think about just how fu—I mean, messed up it all was, and then you see all these posters, all these propaganda pieces are putting back years of work to be respected. Though I suppose it was never a matter of respect at all. 

[Insert Bullshit Here]

Interviewer: Were you aware of what sort of propaganda was being made, and did you have any say into what was created using your image?

Hawaiʻi: Kuʻuipo, most of it I wasn't aware of at all. They took my likeness and ran with it because they were allowed to do so during a time when I couldn’t say no to anything. It was patriotic to want to protect the poor little territory woman, and it was patriotic for me to be the face of that. Though, I think the one recurring piece that surprised me the most was all the Avenge Pearl Harbor posters that used the same illustration of me sobbing into my hands. Never knew who drew that.

Interviewer: I have seen some of those pamphlets and posters. 

Hawaiʻi: It was to pull on the heartstrings. Make you sympathetic. And by God, it worked. Of course, there were a few that depicted me as strong and capable, mostly used in the islands themselves. 

Interviewer: It sounds like something you really would have hated.

Hawaiʻi: It was. Being completely honest, I would have much rather been on the battlefront in the Philippines. I’d rather have been one of the ones taking them back. Though, Lika was right in benching me, because he knew I’d be reckless. I would have done something stupid. 

Interviewer: But it would have been more respectful to you as the territory than what you did do during the War, wouldn’t it?

Hawaiʻi: In some ways, it would have been. But the homefront needed people. Where would those recaptured territories have gone if not to me? Where would the Polynesian Outliers have gone? Most of the other states or territories available wouldn’t have known what to make of them. Of course, I can whine about being a propaganda piece or someone to pose and take pictures with or someone in the dance halls, but in the end, I was a part of the war effort. No matter how humiliating it is.

Interviewer: That sounds like it. 

Hawaiʻi: It was. Let’s talk about something different. Something relating to the topic. Oh, I had mentioned about the dance halls, didn’t I?

Interviewer: Yes, you did. I don’t understand how that is rela—[Cut off by Hawaiʻi]

Hawaiʻi: Don’t underestimate live people as propaganda. I loved dancing, even the more American dances, especially after the 20s and leading up to the Second World War. I’m rusty on the foxtrot and jitterbug and such. One of the few good things during the war were the dance halls. Oh, lots of haole men there, but there were quite a few cute wāhine as well. I remember learning the men’s side of the dances in hopes there would be less men than women one day and I’d get to play the other side for a moment.

Interviewer: I…

Hawaiʻi: Oh, there was a girl there, around ‘35. She looked a bit like you. Didn’t end up as anything. And then there was Rachel, Rachel was there a lot during the war times. All young girls, a lot of them ended up as Navy wives. Or Navy mistresses. Oh, I could tell you a story from the War about how my friend became the breaking point for a Naval Officer’s messy divorce with his wife in New York.  

Interviewer: While I would love to hear about this, I do think we need to stay on topic. 

Hawaiʻi: Your loss. I’ll tell Sera about it at our next Zoom meeting.

Interviewer: Right. Was the fact that you are—and were—noticeably a Person of Colour during this time affect the propaganda in any way?

Hawaiʻi: Somewhat, depending on what was being portrayed. In more patriotic illustrations to spur the public into the home effort, because “Hawaiʻi is putting her all and so should you!” my eyes were widened, and my lips thinned. My hair was straightened at times, but some liked my wild curls better.

Interviewer: So you were whitewashed for a mainland audience.

Hawaiʻi: Yes, though mostly to get rid of more “Asiatic” characteristics. The Japanese were our enemies during the war, so I couldn’t look Japanese. A third of my population was Japanese. How could I not look like the enemy while still looking like me? And so they needed me to look the part. I still remember the blonde phase.

Interviewer: The what?

Hawaiʻi: I thank God that most of those films are considered lost media in this day and age. There’s around, oh, I don’t know, maybe twenty old films of me with my bleached hair.

Interviewer: Well, out of those twenty or so, there are few propaganda videos available to the public in archives and sites such as YouTube. What was it like to be involved in the making of those films?

Hawaiʻi: I wasn’t exactly a willing actor. At the beginning of the war, a few months after martial law started, I was “suggested” by the military government to work with a propaganda film crew. I was “suggested” to get my hair bleached and “suggested” to allow myself to be used as a face for the home to return to.

Interviewer: I don’t think I can imagine you with blonde hair, Miss Hawaiʻi.

Hawaiʻi: Well, it’s a piece of trivia I don’t tell many people. My face never did look quite right to me after the war, more so than usual. It scared me to see what I’d be like if I was white-passing or even just not as dominantly Asian as I am. My hair was damaged for a long while after. It took me years to get it to look somewhat normal.

Interviewer: That is horrible.

Hawaiʻi: It was. Oh well, what can you do when you’re unable to say no?

Interviewer: The immediate aftermath of the Second World War was an ongoing struggle to become a state. Do you think that any of this propaganda from the war furthered or hindered your efforts?

Hawaiʻi: I don't really know. I think the “Hulahula Girl” craze of the 50s and 60s wasn’t helped by how I was portrayed to the soldiers who were stationed here, and worst off, the Navy. If you know me at all, you know that my history with the United States Navy was less than pleasant for most of my time as an American.

Interviewer: So I have heard. Was the Navy involved at all in the propaganda you were in?

Hawaiʻi: Not that I remember. They could have. They wouldn’t have told me, anyway. I remember there was this one man who was in nearly all the films I was in, sometimes as a lead, sometimes not. He was in the Navy at one point or another, I think. Charles something. He was… He was kind to me during it all. 

Interviewer: That must have been a patch of light for you.

Hawaiʻi: He was kind to me because he thought I was weak because I am a woman. But kindness is kindness, all the same, I suppose. I wonder what became of him. I wonder if he was real.

Interviewer: If he was real? But you remember him; he should have existed, right?

Hawaiʻi: Remember how I said the martial law era was foggy to me? Nothing is exactly concrete, and I have been assured some of the things I remembered didn’t happen. I do hope he was real.

Interviewer: If you would like, after the interview, I can request some of the films we collected for the archive, and we’ll see if we can find and identify him. It would be good to know the identities of the people within the films.

Hawaiʻi: [Her voice softens] That would be lovely. Thank you, Kuuipo.

Interviewer: It’s nothing, Miss Hawaiʻi, don’t worry. What sorts of films were you in?

Hawaiʻi: I’m not someone who’s very knowledgeable about types of films, but I know there was at least one full-length movie, several shorts, and a few… Aue, you know, da kine?

Interviewer: PSAs? Public Service Announcements?

Hawaiʻi: Exactly what I was thinking about. Propaganda was easy to make. I was restricted to background roles for many, and I am happy for that. I am not an actress and never have been one. 

Interviewer: Do you think any of the propaganda was effective?

Hawaiʻi: Of course it was. But we would have made it anyway. [Her voice fills with contempt.] Anything to rally the troops to beat Japan. Anything to bring her to her knees and regret touching the perfect little territory woman. Anything to make soldiers care about a territory that was partially the exact race they hated so much.

Interviewer: Your relationship with the Empire of Japan, it was— [question cut off by Hawaiʻi]

Hawaiʻi: My relationship with that is for another time. When I’m not sober enough to shut you down. Propaganda, right? Any more questions on that?

Interviewer: Sorry for my intrusion, Miss Hawaiʻi. 

Hawaiʻi: It’s nothing. Just… What else do you want to know?

Interviewer: That’s about it, about propaganda. Thank you so much for your participation, Miss Hawaiʻi.

Hawaiʻi: It was my pleasure, Kuuipo. Aloha nui loa. I hope this interview gave you the information you seek. So, do I hit this button?

Interviewer: Oh, I can do it. Don’t worry about it.

[Shuffling]

[Click]

[End Recording]

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Propaganda video starring Hawaiʻi believed to have been made in late 1942. Transcribed by Carmen Nielson.

[Video opens up to a blonde Hawaiʻi sitting at a desk, smiling. It is not a smile that looks fake, but still one that looks wrong.]

Hawaiʻi [Accent is more typical of a Standard American Accent]: Hello, my fellow Americans. While the young boys of the front are undertaking the war, there are many things that you at home can do to help the war effort. One of the most important things you can do to help our boys is buy war bonds and help ensure that they are well-fed and well-supplied. I hope that all of you will do your part in helping with the war and avenging myself for the cowardly attack on myself by the Empire of Japan.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Propaganda video starring Hawaiʻi believed to have been made in early 1942. Transcribed by Carmen Nielson.

[Video opens up to Hawaiʻi lying in a hospital bed, with bandages wrapped around her arms and head. Her hair is not blonde. Hawaiʻi looks to be in pain, but the expression seems forced]

Hawaiʻi [smiling]: The cowardly attack against me by Japan has left me injured and broken. I am unable to defend myself in my time of need. I ask of you, able-bodied men of America, to join our forces in defending the coward and defending me from any future attack. I plead for your help and your assistance. I know that you, brave men of America, can defeat this threat and bring peace back to my islands.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Recording of an Interview with America and Caleb, alters of the “US System,” 18 September 2022, Interviewed and Transcribed by Carmen Nielson of the Myosotis Project.

[recording begins]

Interviewer: Hello. It’s nice to meet you. All of you…sorry, I have never met anyone with DID before, and I hope I do not offend anyone.

America: It’s alright, we don’t mind, so long as you aren’t trying to be rude. My name is America, and I am the one currently fronting right now. Caleb is close right now, and we might switch. We’ll be sure to let you know if that does happen. I also might start dissociating during the interview, so if I start doing that, just give us time.

Interviewer: Okay, thank you. Now, onto the subject of today’s interview, World War Two propaganda involving the State of Hawaiʻi.

America: Not my proudest moment. Of course, I was never involved in the making of the propaganda, being busy with war, but…I was the reason why Hawaiʻi even went along with it in the first place, with martial law and my orders for her to stay on her islands and not fight.

Interviewer: Why did you order her to do that?

America [with a sigh]: Because she’s a hothead, because she was friends with Japanese Empire because I didn’t want her to be hurt. It was a whole mix of reasons. I admit I was motivated some by my initial feelings after the attack. Guåhan, my daughter, had been captured by the Japanese Empire, and my son was in the Philippines, a place that all my prewar military plans planned to abandon. I…[America lets out a deep breath] I was losing too many people, and I thought that if I let her fight, she would become lost to me as well. And I can’t stand that.

Interviewer: So you made her stay against her will?

America: Yes, I did. Not everyone agreed with me, and if it wasn’t for the fact that the universe can somehow tell when I’m fronting, I’m pretty sure James would have stopped it.

Interviewer: What? What does that mean?

America: Martial law commands can only be given by two entities. One is obvious: the military government. As long as someone is a part of that government, they can command the personification. The second, if applicable, is the…country in charge? Not sure how to word that. But basically, if the personification is a statehuman like Hawaiʻi, then I, as the country she is a part of, can also command her. It doesn’t just work for states but also any form of subdivision under martial law. That being said, even though we all share the same body, if one of the others is fronting, they can’t command Hawaiʻi. James tried so she could fight, but it didn’t work. It only works when I am fronting. I guess…I guess since I’m the only one here who’s actually the country. It makes sense, but it’s odd that whatever martial law control is, it can tell who’s fronting.

Interviewer: That’s…really interesting.

[America gives a little laugh]

America: It is, yeah. But after I gave Hawaiʻi that order, I just…I ignored her and her land. I got so focused on the war and doing what was needed for that, which was a lot of diplomacy with the other Allies. I never commanded her to do anything else, and the military government wasn’t going to change the commands.

Interviewer: Could they have done that?

America: Of course, they could. They are the true ones that were in control of Hawaiʻi. While I could do a little as the country, martial law, and its control originated with them. They always have more power relating to it.

Interviewer: That’s…worrying for you guys, I bet. 

America: It was, yes. Now, we have gotten a bit off-topic, and while I don’t have much to say about the effect of martial law and propaganda on Hawaiʻi, not stuff that I feel comfortable sharing, Caleb has some things he would like to talk about involving that.

Interviewer: Caleb being on of your alters, correct?

America: Yes. He’s here right now, so I’m going to let him come up front.

[There is a pause of about ten seconds]

Caleb [The accent now being used differs from the Standard American one being used by America and is instead a Georgian accent]: Hello, Ms. Nielsen. My name is Caleb, he/they. I’m a human alter and one of the alters that is closer to Hawaiʻi.

Interviewer: Nice to meet you, Caleb.

Caleb: I know these are meant to be interviews with countryfolk, so I apologize for intrudin’, but I just had to say my part.

Interviewer: You are a part of the same…system as America, so I think you are close enough to count for these interviews. After all, you have spent your entire life sharing a body, and a more human perspective on country things is never a bad thing.

Caleb: Good. Well, I hated the martial law. It changed Wai. It made her less her. It’s hard to explain, I think, but it was like watching her get drained of who she was and replaced by a shitty-ass copy of herself, pardon my French.

Interviewer: What do you mean by that?

Caleb: I mean, her culture got turned into a product, and her the advertisement. She…she was a hothead, and now she wasn’t. She fought for herself, and now she would lie down and let others walk all over her. It was wrong. It wasn’t her. She…she would say she was fine, but then do something so horrifically out of character. She was blonde, for fuck’s sake! I didn’t see it much, as America was ordered away, but what I did see was…disturbing to me.

Interviewer: Why did it affect you so much? What about it made it disturbing?

Caleb: I…spent so much of my life pretending to be America. We had to so we could be normal. So…it…it reminded me of that, except instead of being done out of necessity like it was with America and me, it was done out of a desire to warp Hawaiʻi into a docile little white American. It wasn’t done to protect her or anyone else. It was just done to control her. It’s…it’s horrific that humans can be granted that kind of control over a person.

Interviewer: Do you think this propaganda and martial law changed Hawaiʻi?

Caleb: How could it not? Martial law will always warp the person it’s on. [Caleb sighs] Especially if, after martial law, the social environment wants to enforce wherever change was made. That’s what—

[Caleb cuts himself off suddenly, and there are a few moments of silence]

Interviewer: Caleb?

Caleb: Mmm…sorry. James didn’t want me to talk about that. Sorry. But…uh…it’s hard to get over that. I’m not going to speak for Hawaiʻi…but that changed her and hurt her—a lot. She burned a lot of it, the paper stuff. She destroys it when she can. She doesn’t want to remember. But I can’t seem to forget.

Interviewer: Is there anything else you would like to talk about?

Caleb: Nothing that wouldn’t get us off topic. I…there’s lots to say about Hawaiʻi and how we as a system and as a country have treated her and changed her. I think that it is better to leave it for another time. Or, you know, for that biography that that one woman is doing. 

Interviewer: Well then, thank you for coming, Caleb and America.

Caleb: It was our pleasure.

[recording ends]

━─━────༺༻────━─━

 Propaganda Poster created in March 1942

━─━────────━─━

Error Showing Image

━─━────────━─━

[Image Description: A World War Two Era propaganda poster that says “Remember Pearl Harbor” at the top and “Buy War Bonds” at the bottom. The image itself consists of a racist caricature of a Japanese man holding out an olive branch that says “Peace” on it. The Japanese man has an image of the Nazi swastika on his right shoulder. In front of the Japanese man is Hawaiʻi, with her hair cut short and colored blonde. She looks white in the image. Behind Hawaiʻi is a large knife labeled “Dec. 7th,” being welded by an arm with sharp fingernails labeled “Jap Treachery.” On the hilt of the knife is the Nazi swastika.]

[thetruearchmagos]

Military alright — but what kinds of food do they eat? What is the overall opinion on them? And where is it sourced from?

Thank you for the Ask, o' Blog of Mystery! The phrasing and construction of your questions were... curious, to me, but I think I've parsed out what you mean.

When it comes to the United Commonwealth Armed Services, food plays a key role in the sustainment of its vast forces stationed across even greater distances. In brief, all service members are, where possible, to be guaranteed at least one 'hot meal' a day, and great efforts are always made to provide for the many specifications and requirements of individual soldiers.

The quality of food varies massively depending on service, state of hostilities in one's post, and the nature of their duties. Those residing in major installations rely on a mixture of local contractors and the relevant Service's internal quartermasters to operate on-base dining facilities, where the quality of fair usually decreases a little with distance from major population centres. In 'the field', either on Exercise or actual deployment, troops in the Army will be served from mobile Field Kitchens where circumstances allow, or from their personal rations where they do not. In the Navy or Air Force, food underway or at airbases is often as good in peace as in war, if supply lines into a given theatre can manage it.

All in all, the food isn't great, but it's not bad, and after enough time some might feel they miss it once they're out. As for the sourcing, well, I'd rather not try and put together the Directorate General of Defence's sustainment contracting policy at 8 pm.

Tagging, for the Worldbuilding, @athenswrites @theprissythumbelina @nerdexer @hessdalen-globe @caxycreations