#national security and international tensions

[half-life-crisis]

Pop quiz #MAGA - name all these flags & their surrounding bodies of water, and why those are so important for these #GeopoliticalTensions Hint number 1: Northern Sea Routes There is plenty more about. #Read this article to understand it

https://halflifecrisis.com/hlc-articles/why-is-trump-destroying-geopolitical-alliances…

It affects YOU!

[kesarijournal]

Striking the Houthis in Yemen: A Whirl of Power Plays, Sarcasm, and Blazing Skies

In the latest episode of ‘World Powers Play Chess,’ the US and UK, ever the dynamic duo of international policing, have decided to add a new twist to the complex Yemeni soap opera. With a coalition that reads like a guest list at an exclusive global summit – hello Australia, Bahrain, Canada, and the Netherlands – these countries have collectively embarked on what could be dubbed ‘Operation Let’s…

[s-4pphics]

tag, you're it! (e.w.)

ITS PRIDE MONTH PUSSSSSSYYYYYYY 

omg this is kindaaaa…. yeah

imma lil proud LOL hope y’all like it 

wc;cw: 14.2k, ceosdaughter!ellie, tagger/artist!oc, ANGST!!, mentions of depression and suicidal ideation, illness, parental death & brief mentions of funerals, descriptions of foster care/homeless shelters and poverty, both oc n ellie have daddy issues, MOMMY ISSUES!!, brief mentions of drug addiction(coke), homophobia DURING PRIDE MONTH🤨🤨, internalized homophobia and misogyny, ellie is a horny touch starved loser n kinda stalkerish?, mentions of criminal injustice(police, prisons, etc.) i hate it here, rich ppl being demons, SMUT!!!!! MDNI!!!!, light descriptions of masturbation, potential dubcon!!, sexual tension😟, bratty subbottom!ellie, mean domtop!oc she carries her dick on her like a glock lol, slight fearplay, KNIFE PLAY/BLOOD, DIRTY TALK, finger and strap sucking, fingering, pussy eating, MOMMY KINK!!, nipple play, squirting <333 n creaming <333, riding, reverse cowgirl, slapping(FACE!!! ass titties), hitting it from the bbbbback, loss of virginity, masochism LOL, a lil ass play LOL, pretty taboo themes catch it

“She’s… I genuinely believe she’s deranged, your honor! She’s… uncontrollable! Look at what she’s done to our city! Civilians can see her tracks everywhere they go, and it’s disgusting! Not to mention she’s a pervert!” 

You rolled your eyes as you listened to the high-pitched, ongoing shrieks of one of the wealthiest women in the state as she spat belittlements of you to the judge. 

You were… fucked. 

You adjusted in your uncomfortable chair, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest, turning your head to eye your lawyer, arching a brow at him as you waited for his defenses for you. He looked… scared shitless, to say the least. 

Yeah. You were definitely going to fucking jail. 

Were these pieces of shit really going to treat you like Satan himself for pulling a measly, little prank? Has April Fools truly lost all meaning?

A couple of days ago, on April 1st, you took it upon yourself to spray paint ♡GIRLDICK♡ across the largest building in the city, which just so happened to be owned by the Miller family, if anyone even bothered to call their cultist bond that. Their wealth swiftly accumulated when the now deceased founder of the organization, Joel Miller, discovered some new form of AI technology… or whatever the elders at the shelter told you. His death shook your city years ago; You weren’t sure why it was so moving for people, but R.I.P, you guess. 

You assumed they were just another group of elitist fuckers, but he must’ve been decent at the most; You still remember his memorial broadcasting on the small TV at the shelter as the other residents mourned in solace. 

Regardless, you hope all their institutions across the nation collapse one day, preferably with the rest of them inside. 

The broad in the black, silk suit kept pointing her finger at you, and it took everything in your spirit to not get up out of your seat and rip it clean off her hand and shove it down her throat. 

Not every tag you’ve done around the city has been rooted in “perversion”. There’s nothing perverse about… loving girldick. It’s a way of life!

Fuck security cameras. 

Unbeknownst to them, you’ve already been coined as a hidden talent in the city, at least according to some people you know at the shelter. You’re faceless in the eye of the public, but that separation doesn’t negate their appreciation for your artwork. You even went viral for the mural you painted of your father for his birthday two years ago, even though the fucker that posted it on Instagram hadn’t included your signature. You could bet millions of people have seen it by now, and you gained absolutely nothing from it. 

But, of course, your form of creative expression was being reduced to a jizzing penis. You've created countless mosaics around the city that represent the purest forms of love and sex, and now you are being blasted for being some sort of corrupt sicko. You only drew what came natural to you, and if people felt a way about it, they could choke on the fattest girldick known to humanity. You hate rich people.

Your father didn’t sacrifice everything he had to teach you the complexities of sketching for your name to be attached to outlines of dicks. You didn’t grow up watching your father skip meals so he could get you a new water paint set for your birthday every year for your art to be lawfully ridiculed. The only comfort this situation brought was that you knew he would’ve found the sloppily drawn cock hysterical. You still remember his laugh after all this time. 

You miss him dearly. You probably could’ve been just as rich, if not more, as the bitch at the other table if he was still here with you. He would’ve ensured you didn’t stray off into the life you live now. 

Being in foster care was the dissipation of your joy. You were considered a problem child very early on: fighting the caretakers when they tried to calm you, cursing at them, stealing, and nobody wanted to adopt you because of that, regardless of your talents. You were set up to fail too early, and you despised the world because of it. 

Your record was horrendous, and you were going to jail. You fucking hate rich people.

… Except the Miller's eldest daughter. She gets a pass. 

And she keeps staring at you. 

Every time you caught her sparkly eyes, she blushed and looked forward, her freckles surrounded by a deep red that rushed down her neck. She was dressed much less… sophisticated than her mother: her hair tied back in a low bun and littered with black bobby-pins, a dark-blue sweater, rings on her thumb, black pants, and clean Vanz. 

You knew a lesbian when you saw one. You could barely hide your knowing smirk. 

“My child doesn’t need to be exposed to such… nauseating ideologies! Think of the children of the city and what they’re forced to see because of vile people like that,” she pointed at you again. You were this fucking close to stabbing her with that pen in front of you. 

Your daughter’s gay, Mrs. Miller. 

“With all due respect, ma’am,” the judge started. What kind of backwards shit was this; Wasn’t she supposed to be respecting him? “It’s important that we stay on track. You’re specifically suing her for vandalism— “

“Ongoing, unchecked vandalism! This is not her first charge, your honor, it’s her seventh! She’s… she’s— “

You tried to tune her out, looking around the congested space of the courtroom, and you caught eyes—shiny, green eyes— on you. Again. 

She was fiddling with her hands in her lap, her teeth picking at the dry skin on her bottom lip. But she didn’t look away this time. You watched her eyes trail over your face, down to your jaw, your neck, your chest, only to come back up to your eyes. 

You did the same, taking in the dots on her soft cheeks, her eyes, her pretty nose, and mouth, looking her up and down, biting your lip, letting her know you were gauging her. She was cute, you had to admit. 

“—sentenced to three years in federal prison— “

You looked up in shock, feeling like your body had been dunked into a tub of ice water and left to die, instantly stiffening at the announcement of your sentence, the sound of the slamming gavel nearly putting you six feet under. 

You couldn’t do anything but stare at the judge in disbelief as he organized his papers emotionlessly, your lawyer putting his hand on your shoulder. You knocked it off and glared at him. You looked over to the table, the family already up and taking their leave, Mrs. Miller’s hand tightly enclosed around her daughter’s wrist as she dragged her out the wooden doors.

Two security guards were already walking towards you with cuffs, gripping your arms too roughly to pull you up out of your seat and latching the metal around your skin. You started to panic as they walked you towards another set of doors.

“Wait, wait, my backpack, I need my— “

“You aren’t allowed to have anything on you. Your property will be held by the court until further notice.” 

“But— “

“No buts, and don’t resist,” you felt the security grip your arm harder, and your anxiety peaked, your panting breaths hardly leaving your body.

You didn’t resist. You couldn’t. Your life was shattering around you in slow motion, loose shards slicing through you with intent to kill. 

You allowed the brawly men to drag you… anywhere. You didn’t care anymore; You were tired, and no longer had the urge to fight left in your heart. 

Ellie was brought up in isolation. 

Homeschooled, no friends, no purpose outside of being the vessel to represent her family name, creating the next line of heirs for her father’s company. 

The benefits of his successes had simply… appeared when she was fifteen. 

She remembered how he went from being present, gave her the utmost attention, played sports with her, taught her how to sing and self-defense with his past down switchblade, to not, completely cut off from society as he barricaded himself in his study and worked relentlessly on new forms of technology. Being an only child brought nothing but loneliness for her after a while. 

But then they were rich. They moved to an affluent neighborhood and into a two-story house in a matter of months, driving Porches and buying out stores. Wealth appeared, but the relationship with her family suffered because of it. 

Her father fell ill, and after a multitude of hospital visits, teary farewells, and a memorial, he was gone. Merely a memory that hardly seemed real. Her and her mother’s relationship became even more unsteady after his passing. 

Ellie’s mother swiftly took over the company in an almost authoritarian way. She interacted with society in a robotic, rehearsed manner. Mechanical, soulless, the only proof of her humanity exposing itself when she snorted white powder. 

Her mother had brought up the idea of marriage the second she turned eighteen, a year before her father’s passing, saying that there were multiple well-off men that were eager to be with her, willing to give her children. Multiple. 

Men…. children… having children with men. Money. The empire. Her mother.

It all made her nauseous. 

… But art didn’t. 

She’d always kept her journals secret. Left in a box on the highest shelf of her walk-in closet where the maids couldn’t find them.

She expressed everything that she couldn’t to her mother on paper. Her depression, her insomnia, her desire for death, her mourning, the need for sex with non-men, any form of physical connection, something—anything that made her feel human, normal.

She needed a fucking hug. A kiss. Sex. She wanted to fuck.

The first time she saw your artwork on an abandoned building as she chauffeured to the museum, she’d nearly fainted. 

It’d been two women on top of each other, the most intimate parts of their body covered with the other’s hands and skin. One had her head between the other’s legs atop blankets and flowers as the other… apparently in the middle of an orgasm. Her mother always made the point of sex sound so… stiff. Lifeless. Merely a factor of procreation.

But your art was so erotic. Sensual. So full of pleasure and softness and care. 

She’d almost jumped out of the car and onto oncoming traffic to get a closer look at every detail, but the car was too quick. She couldn’t even get a fucking picture. 

And she was soaking. How the fuck was she going to explore a museum when she was dripping like this?! 

You’d given her one of the strongest orgasms she’d ever had in her life when she returned home that day, and she didn’t even know who you were. She’d spent hours with her hand between her legs as she thought of your creation while her mother was out working, moaning and crying out as loud as she wanted, and she wasn’t even embarrassed. 

She would sneak out in the darkest clothes she had when her mother passed out on the couch, and just walk. Specifically in search for anything with your signature that she’d memorized like it was her own. She’d taken pictures of your content, memorized them, got off to the suggestive ones in secret, and appreciated your love and passion for your craft. 

She’d even started recreating her own depictions of eroticism. All with women. They never looked the same: different heights, all skin tones and body types, anything that she could think of, she drew it. She’d tried to envision what you looked like after only a few weeks, and she prayed her envisions were at least somewhat accurate. 

She never could draw self-portraits with precision, but she knew it was her. She was always in the middle of the raunchiness that she conjured up in her mind, being touched everywhere, tied up, beaten, completely ripped apart and forced to forget the suffocating world around her. Her reimagining's of herself would be drowned in pleasure, sometimes by you, by herself, by faceless strangers. Anything she wanted. 

When she saw you for the first time, she almost couldn’t control herself. 

She’d felt like a fucking creep as she ducked behind parked cars to watch you paint all over an abandoned freight train behind a trashed building. The streets had been silent as she watched you decorate the metal cart in floral interpretations of pussy, her heart in her throat. 

You looked gorgeous and focused and tired. So, so tired, only in sweats and a tank top with a hefty bag strapped to your back. She assumed you kept your art supplies in there.

Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes off you when she’d seen you during your court hearing. 

You were just as gorgeous as the first time she saw you, but, somehow, even more exhausted. Far away, not really present, but she couldn’t blame you. And she couldn’t stop staring, enthralled by you. Even in your grayest moments, you made her feel vibrant. And that brought her guilt.

But it also made her lustful. Hungry. 

And she couldn’t stop staring. 

When her mother dragged her out of the hearing, she was enraged, even more so when she degraded you on the way back to the car. 

You fucking stared at that whore the whole time!

Don’t ever, in your life, embarrass me again. 

I’ll throw you in the gutter with that rat if you ever disrespect me like you just did in there. Do you understand?

Ellie didn’t even know what she did to garner a response this aggressive, but she was used to it. And, for the first time in her life, she didn’t care. She didn’t give a fuck. 

At that moment, she knew what she had to do.

It was your fifth day in prison, and you felt nothing. 

You didn’t cry, you didn’t plead, you simply succumbed to your destiny in silence. Your father would be so disappointed if he were alive. 

I raised a fighter, so you fucking fight!

But you couldn’t. You were tired, and you wished you could stay asleep, never to wake up again.

You’ve been working like a dog since you got here, and you accepted it. This was your life, and you felt nothing. 

Until your cell unlocked. These fuckers were probably here to shit talk you again. 

They cuffed your wrists and led you somewhere. You didn’t care where, keeping your head down as they encased your arms in a calloused grasp. You hoped this location would be your last forever. 

They led you into an empty room and uncuffed you. You saw the old sweatsuit that you’d received from the shelter, and your heartbeat sped up. You looked at the security in confusion. What the fuck were they doing? What were they about to do?

You could barely hear what the officers were saying, jumbled words of bail bond and cash payments molding together and sounding like a foreign language to you. They undid your handcuffs and pointed towards the clothes, murmuring for you to change so they could transport you back to the courthouse to retrieve your belongings. 

What the fuck is going on?

When you returned to the shelter, you inspected your bag. After nearly scrubbing your skin off while showering. 

The contents were all in their original condition, each individual item wrapped in plastic with small notes attached to them. Except for your dick. You assumed the court had no comments. 

Your paint, your brushes, random hairpins, your notebooks. They were all there in their original condition. Thank god. 

What you didn’t expect to see was a new jacket, sweatsuit, and small note wrapped in the same plastic from inspection. 

You ripped the plastic open and retrieved the note, unfolding it and… confusion, arousal, and fear rushed through you, shocking your body as all your feelings shot down your spine. 

It was a sketch of… you. And a girl bent over with her hands bound behind her back as you fucked her. An… incredibly familiar looking girl. 

A freckled girl. A rosy-cheeked girl. The rosy-cheeked girl from a week ago with the psychotic, sadistic mother.

Her expression in the sketch was pure ecstasy. It looked like she was screaming, her cheeks shaded dark with water-paint and her hair a reddish-brown, thrown in all sorts of directions. Her eyes wild and erotic. Yearning. Teary. Her pleasure seemed dream-like.

And you looked just as gone. Head tossed back, sweaty with your dick shoved inside her pussy, your nails digging into the soft skin on her hips, small, but deep, bloody scratches following the painful glide of your fingertips that make the red blotches on her backside. There were small doodles of strap-ons and pussies smudged, erased, fixed to perfection that seemed almost manic. Obsessive. 

You looked at the bottom of the crumpled piece of paper, a small signature across the bottom of it. 

♡GIRLDICK♡

Come back home. Five days.

E.M.

… Come back home? You don’t have a fucking home. And who the fuck is E.M? Your heart was beating against your chest, climbing up your throat in an attempt to escape your body entirely. You couldn’t stop your eyes from flying across the sloppy penmanship. 

… ♡GIRLDICK♡

E.M.

M. 

♡GIRLDICK♡

M.

… Miller Enterprise. 

Miller. 

… Freckles. 

…. What in the fuck. 

It was almost dark, and you were shivering as the wind blew past you. 

It had been five days. 

You were eyeing the large building in front of you from across the street, a giant M slapped across the top of it, windows galore, hoodie on your head and trembling hands shoved in your pockets. 

You could see the last bit of employees trickling out of the building, clad in suits and tight pencil skirts, heavy briefcases and clicking heels. 

You could also see the fresh white and black paint covering where your spray-painted dick used to be, and it made you chuckle to yourself. You were almost tempted to recreate it with your new snagged bottle of acrylic. It supposedly glowed in the dark. 

But then you saw a dark shadow in the corner of your eye, hurriedly moving past the glass of the entrance. 

Your heart raced instantly at the thought of being discovered, and you followed the body's movement. You could see it was Ellie the closer she got to the glass, dressed in a black sweater and comfortable pants, and her same shoes from the court hearing. She looked antsy, a bit on edge, but curious. She was anticipating seeing you. 

You could see her messing with the keypad on the door, the loud sounds of locks clicking over the bustling streets. Flashes of red, swiftly replaced with flashes of green shined through the maxi-glass, and she looked around at all the doors. What was she checking for?

She seemed satisfied with her job, and she slid the entry door open, leaving it slightly ajar so she could slip something between it. 

She gave one last glance at the system before bolting back inside and down the lengthy hallway before all the hall lights shut off. 

Did she… did she just disable all the alarms for you? 

Now, you were the one anticipating meeting her. 

You ran across the street the second you got a chance, hurdling through traffic before running up onto the sidewalk and treading the stairs. 

You looked down and noticed two pens taped together, holding the door open. You picked them up and inspected them, a glossy, silver M near the gel tip. 

You stepped inside before anyone noticed, the door automatically shutting behind you before the same green lights came on, a robotic voice confirming that the doors were locked.

You were inside the Miller Enterprise, and you were terrified.

Ellie was so nervous. 

She’d been checking her Chanel watch all day, obsessively monitoring the windows to see if anyone that resembled your form had arrived, but she was disappointed every time she looked. No sign of you, yet.

The later it got, the more anxious she became. Did you see the note she left in your bag? Was it too forward? Did you think she was fucking crazy? Did you hate her for what her mother did? She prayed not. 

She was currently pacing around her mother’s—father’s—dark office, every step of her shoes echoing in the nearly empty room. She hasn’t been in here since she was seventeen, and it brought just as much anxiety as it did the first time. 

This will all be yours when I’m gone, don’t fucking ruin it. 

She hated everything about this space. Every aspect of her dad was completely gone. All his pictures, his vinyl, his pens and pencils, his nameplate. Everything. All of it, completely void of emotion. 

She hated it, she hated it. 

But then she heard a clang in the hallway, and her anxiety picked up even more before she could process it. 

She quickly made her way over to the exit, peeking her head through the doorframe and examining the hallway, searching for you. The noise had to be you! You really came! She could feel her nipples getting hard already.

But she saw no one. No one was in the dark hallway. 

… Fuck.

Why did she shut the system off? The lights wouldn’t come on!

Her hands instantly got clammy, her heart racing, and her knees shook. She hadn't felt like this since she was a kid, and she was horrified.

Someone’s here to hurt you, someone’s going to come in and hurt you!

You never leave doors unlocked! He always said to lock your doors, never, never, never—

She couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from taking over her entire body, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her father’s switchblade, pressing its latch down to expose the blade. She slammed the door shut and walked over to the large window and tried to steady her breathing. She looked out of the glass and inhaled harshly. 

Keep your grip tight when you strike! 

Calm down calm down calm down—

“Boo.” 

You saw Ellie jump with a hard gasp before spinning to face you, a fearful look on her face and her switchblade in hand, pointed edge towards you. 

You could see her chest rise up and down with every shaky breath she took, her body trembling and cheeks flushed. You felt like your body was going to burst into flames, but you hid it, grinning slyly at her as you stepped forward. 

Deep breath. 

“Hi, Ellie.”

Another step forward. She took two back, nearly pressed against the glass. 

“Y-You,” she stuttered as her eyes darted around nervously, and you could see her cheeks flushing in the darkness, “How’d you get in here?” 

“I think you know how.” 

You shrugged, the contents of your bag shuffling on your back. You pointed towards the large, stretched windows behind her that oversaw the entire city, the hustling streets and lights beaming into the dimly lit room from the last bits of sunset. 

“View’s incredible,” your mockery littered in sarcasm. Don’t let her know you’re scared. 

She took a bold step forward as her brows furrowed, anger twisting on her doll-like face. You took two, as well. You saw her eyes dart to your feet before meeting your gaze to hiss at you.

“There’re cameras on every floor of this fucking building! I press that button,” She darted her small knife towards the enclosed, red button on the side of the wall, a large print of EMERGENCIES ONLY directly above it. “And every cop in this city’ll show up and take your ass back to the fucking gutter where you’re supposed to be.” 

… How the fuck was she going to threaten you when she told you to come here?! What was she playing at?

She pointed her weapon back at you. You ignored your confusion and raised an impressed brow before walking forward without pause, pulling her mother’s chair out from under the desk, the wheels squeaking against the marbled tile. You saw the grip she had on her knife tighten. 

You smiled at her. “You’re pretty good with a knife, honey.” 

“Fuck you. Don’t fucking call me that.”

“I dunno,” you scoffed, twirling on your heels as you took in the luxurious space around you. “I can bet my bottom ass dollar that you like it.” 

Her glare hardened, and your smile brightened. You finally moved to sit in the chair, the plush leather molding against your body and stuffed backpack. You scooted back under the desk and rested your elbows on the hand-carved rosewood, completely calm. At least outwardly. Your insides were jittery from adrenaline. 

You quickly inspected the contents of the desk: her mother’s matching rosewood nameplate, some loose paperwork with large sums of money scattered on them, dark pens and markers, and a signed restraining order. With your name on it. 

You’re apparently not allowed a hundred feet within the perimeter of the building. 

… Funny. 

“Press it.” 

Her scowl hardened, “What?” 

You pointed a lax finger towards the button as you looked up from the document, “I said press it. You want me gone so bad, right?” 

She didn’t reply, her fingers fidgeting around the knife as she adjusted her grip. Her eyes nervously flitted across the room, all over the white floors, back on you. 

“You’re not gonna press the fucking button.” You spat with a devilish smile. “And I know why.” 

“Fuck you, you don’t know sh— “

“You paid my bail.” 

You heard her release a shaky exhale when you sliced through her words, her eyes widening in shock like she saw through you, and you knew you had her. Your smile widened as your nails pattered where you tapped on the desk. 

“Uh huh. Why’d you do it?” 

Her throat moved as she swallowed, and you almost laughed. 

You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the piece of paper that kept you company in your small cot during your restless nights, unfolding it and holding up the explicit depiction that she left in your bag days ago. You pressed her as you swung the chair with your foot, “Think somebody’s got a little crush. Mommy’s gonna be so upset with you.” 

“FUCK YOU!” She marched towards you until she was in front of the desk, her scent enclosing around you before you felt the incredibly sharp blade against the side of your neck, and you stiffened in terror. You looked at her in shock, studying her expression. She looked pissed, but you saw… something in her eyes that made your core squeeze tight. 

It was vulgar, needy, and you hoped she missed your body’s excited shudder at her crude rage. 

She didn’t. Curiosity shone behind her lust and fiery, her enraged shrieks shook your eardrums. 

“You’re fucking worthless! You really think anyone’s gonna care about you rotting in a fucking cell?! You’re… you’re nothing! You’re a low life! You’re… you’re! —“

You deadened your own eyes as you slowly moved to stand, but she pressed the knife deeper into your skin as she leaned over the desk, your faces closer together. You stiffened and felt a sting on your skin, and a drop of wetness. Your pussy squeezed, and you could feel sweat looking under your jacket. 

“Gonna kill me, Ellie?” You glared at her, your heart pounding with fear and exhilaration. 

Say you want me. Say it, sayitsayitsayit!

Her eyes were vengeful as she scanned your face, but you saw that glint grow behind the harsh overcast. Something you craved just as badly as she did. 

“Really want mommy to see her precious girl killing somebody on camera? Hm?” 

“She,” her breath shuddered. “wouldn’t give a fuck if it were you, I promise.” 

You barely whispered your reply as you leaned even closer, your nipples hardening under your sports bra and your underwear clinging to your wetness. 

“Then do it.”

The heavy breaths she released hit your face in a burning wind, and your core tightened once more. You could see the aggression on her face slowly dissipate, that giddy sparkle in her eye overtaking her pupils as they darkened. 

You felt the cold steel pull away from you slowly, her hand coming down on the desk, — unfortunate— and it threw you into action.

Your hand flew up to her throat and squeezed the sides, and you heard the clatter of the object as it hit the wood. You heard her suck in a choked breath as her eyes glossed over, suddenly desperate and wanton and scared like you’d been seconds before. She looked like a neglected kitten, and it made you hold her neck in tighter constriction. 

She whimpered aloud as she attempted to gasp, her hand coming up to grab your wrist, but you snatched it away with your free hand, and it limply dropped to the desk, her body submitting. 

You leaned in closer to her, and her eyes squeezed shut, lips puckered, silently begging for you to kiss her. You snickered. 

You let her neck go and slammed your palm across her blushing cheek, a loud crack! filling the room. 

She cried aloud, looking like she was about to burst into tears as she jumped off the desk and backed away from you, her hand pressed against her searing cheek. You rose to your feet and circled around the desk, rushing towards her until she was pressed up against the window. Tears were running down her face. You shoved her closer against the glass, grabbing her cheeks to force her to look at you. 

“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? I got a little fan, is that it?” 

“N-No— “

“Yeah, I do. Fuckin’ stalker. Probably gotta whole shrine t’me in your fucking room. Does mommy know that you worship me? The lowlife who fucked up her building?” You snapped at her.

She flinched at your tone before she choked out a gasped sob, “I j-just liked what you m-made.”

“Stop crying, Ellie.”

She nodded as she sniffled, wiping the tears off her cheeks. You grasp loosened on her cheeks as you cupped her face, your thumb brushing away the wetness on her already bruising skin. You noticed how she leaned into your caress. It made your heart jolt.

“Look at me,” you whispered. 

She hesitantly met your eyes. 

“You wanna kiss me?”

She looked down at her shuffling feet, and you saw her fist clench. 

“Answer me.” 

“Y-Yes, wanna kiss. Just… just one?”

You hummed in satisfaction, inching closer towards her like you did previously. She stiffened but shut her eyes tightly, her plush lips poking out in a pucker once more as your noses touched. You chuckled and whispered, your lips brushing against hers as you spoke. 

“You ever kissed anyone, baby?”

She sighed out an uneven nuh uh, her mouth chasing yours. You grinned wider.

“Oh? M’gonna be your first kiss?” 

She whined out a needy uh huuuh! 

You stuck your tongue out, slowly running the wet muscle over her lower lip, and you felt her whole body tremble against yours. She brainlessly stuck her tongue out to lick yours, but you pulled back. She tried to follow you, but you yanked her head back by the small bun at the back of her head, the soft strands curling around your fist. 

She let out a moan, and your tongue licked up her exposed throat, leaving a trail of spit up her chin, all the way to her mouth. 

You relented and connected your mouths, and she let out a shocked noise into your mouth. You slipped your tongue in her gaping mouth, wet, smacking noises filling the room as you kissed her hotly. She couldn’t keep up with your quick movements, her lips and tongue moving sloppily against yours. Her spit was all over the outside of your mouth. 

You felt her hands come up to your hips to grip your jacket in a tight fist as she moaned into your mouth. 

The noises she let out were so sweet: little, excited gasps and whiny keens as she tried to pull you closer. 

You released her hair and grabbed her chin to move her head to the side. You kissed down her neck, and she jerked against you. Her breaths increased in pace as you pecked her sweaty skin, lapping your tongue all over the side.

You sucked into the skin under her ear, right under her jaw, pulling her sweater down to mark her collarbone. 

“Pleeease, pleaseplease, ah— “

You mumbled in between gentle sucks, “What, Ellie? Talk.” 

You felt her hands grab your hips tighter, but she said nothing. You pushed her hands off you roughly and looked at her with piercing eyes. She shrunk into herself when she met them. 

“When I tell you to do something, you do it. You understand?” 

She nodded quickly. 

“So fucking talk,” you gritted out. 

“Want,” she whispered with a sharp gasp. “Want you.” 

You smirked, “You want me?”

“Mmhm!”

You shoved your backpack off your shoulders, the thud echoing when it hit the floor. 

“Want me to do what?”

She paused before looking down at her feet again, twiddling and picking at her fingers as her face burned red. 

“Um…” 

You rolled your eyes and turned away from her, but you felt her hand grab your wrist and you stopped. You looked at her in annoyance. 

She looked at you tentatively, her breathing shaky. 

But then she slowly brought your hand in between her legs. 

She shivered as she placed her hand on top of yours, making you rub her cunt back and forth. She released pleased sighs as her lashes fluttered, her head falling back against the window as she looked at you up and down. 

“P-Please?” She licked her lips. “Wan’you here.”

You scoffed in shock, and her thighs squeezed down on both your hands. You pressed your palm closer against her, and her hips bucked into you. 

You moved closer to her, your clothed chests pressed together. 

“Move your hand,” you spoke quietly, just for her to hear even though you were alone.

She dropped it limply. You pressed your palm into her covered clit, and she moaned. 

You leaned in, your lips brushing her cheek as you spoke.

“Baby just wanted her pussy touched? That’s why you acted out earlier?”

She didn’t speak as she panted heavily. You brought your hand up to slap her cheek again, and she released a pained cry as her hips twitched. 

“Talk!”

“Yes! Needa… need t’be touched!”

“Tell me where.” You brought your hand back down to her pussy as fresh tears slid down her cheeks. 

She sobbed. “A-Anywhere!”

You leered at her soft face. “Yeah? I get t’choose?” 

She nodded quickly, her eyes screaming touch me, please! Make me cum!

“Open your mouth, honey. Stick your tongue out.”

She mewled softly, but did what you asked, her shiny, pink muscle glistening under the beaming city lights. 

You brought your hand up, rubbing your index and middle finger on her soft tongue. 

“Get ‘em wet.”

She hummed as she sucked them into her mouth with no hesitation. You felt her tongue messily swirl around your digits as she sighed contently, and you pressed an encouraging peck on her cheek. 

You slowly fucked your fingers in, pulling them out, only to push them back in again. You almost awwed aloud when she chased your digits every time you pulled out. She was already drooling for them. 

You pressed her tongue down as you fucked in, and she gagged on them. Her eyes shot open and they instantly watered, her throat tightening around you. 

“Bet you suck a mean dick,” you muttered before you could stop yourself. 

She moaned loudly as you fucked deeper into her mouth, pressing down on the back of her tongue. 

“Oh, yeah? Want mine down that pretty throat?”

She garbled and nodded as much as she could with your fast thrusts in her mouth. You couldn’t wait to fuck it open. 

“Snooped through my shit, didn’t you? Saw my fucking cock and creamed yourself? That’s why you bought me new shit?”

You saw her bring a hand down to touch her pussy, her hips bucking into her own hand, chasing any stimulation. You grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her. 

You finally eased up on her throat and pulled out completely, lines of slobber connecting your fingers and her mouth together. You cut them with your own tongue, her spit clinging to the edges of your mouth. 

You planted a smacking kiss on her lips before you shoved your hand down her dark, flared pants and into her boxers. 

She squealed when you immediately found her clit with your spit covered fingers, the slippery bud sliding between your already drippy fingers. You watched her hand fly to the white windowsill for balance as your hand went wild on her cunt. 

“Such a wet fucking pussy. Feels good, baby?”

Her brows creased as she nodded, her body rocking with your movements. “A-Ah! —“ 

“Uh huh. You touch yourself like this when mommy’s at work? Hm?”

Her head shamefully jerked in confirmation. You could see her now: her pretty legs spread on her plush bed, her sopping pussy squeezing at the thought of you fucking her just how she needed. She’d be grabbing at her tits as she flicked her clit, desperate to cum all over her blankets for you. Your pussy was so wet. 

“You think about me when you do it?” You knew the answer, but you needed her to say it. Confirm that she thought about you just as much as you thought about her. 

“Yes! Yes, yes!”

“Fucking whore, no wonder she hates your guts.”

She moaned louder at your degradation. “S’c—coming! “

Your fingers were practically vibrating on her cunt, her clit thumping as her orgasm built. “Get my fingers nice’n sloppy, angel, c’mon— “

She reached down to grab your wrist as she jumped on your fingers, but before you could slap her, her body tensed, and her eyes rolled into her skull. You felt her clit pulsate under your touch, and you knew she was cumming.

“Fuckmemommy!”

You couldn’t stop the shock that appeared on your face as you watched her thrash on your hand, gasping out, asking you to please fuck me, mommy! Need you to fuck me!

You just massaged her through it, pressing your hips up against hers so she couldn’t run from your touch. 

“Wan’mommy to fuck you, angel?” you mumbled in your daze as your pussy dripped, your brain barely registering what you just said.

“Yespleasepleaseplease, gimme— “

“Fuck, baby, need mommy inside you?” Your heart was pounding in your ears. 

“M-Mhhm!—“

“Gimme your leg,” You lifted it up with your free hand, bringing it up so it came around your waist.

You slid your fingers down to her twitchy entrance and slipped the tip of your pointer finger inside. You almost moaned at how her walls clung to you, sucking you in deeper, milking you.

“Tightest fuckin’ pussy,” you mumbled to her, and she whimpered when your finger arched inside her. You prodded around until she slumped against you, pushing her hips down on your finger. You leaned in, your lips brushing her ear as you cooed right there? yeah? feels fuckin’ good?

She couldn’t even speak. She just plopped her head onto your shoulder and sloppily kissed your neck. Your cunt clenched and you flinched when her soft tongue licked into the small slit she made earlier. You heard her hum as her tongue swiped a line from your collarbone to your cut; She was licking your blood up like a fucking dog!

It made you punch that spot in her harder, and she cried out against your skin, her nails digging into your forearm. 

You slowly pushed your middle finger in, and she sobbed as she stretched around you. You arched your thumb out to rub her clit as you poked that spongy spot in her pussy; She was so loud for you. 

“Like when I touch you there?” 

“I like it, like it s’much!” You felt her nodding mindlessly against you.

“Gonna cum on me again?” you spat at her. 

“Fuck yes!” 

“Know you’re gonna cum hard, can’t even fuck you like I wanna, squeezing me so tight.”

You dug your fingers as deep and fast into her as her cunt would allow. Her walls were choking the fuck out of you, practically screaming for them to stay where you were pressed inside her. How the fuck was she going to take you fully?!

The thought of breaking her open made you shake, “Gonna make this pussy take me. Can’t wait t’give you this fucking dick.”

Then she started screaming out for you, trying to get you closer, wrapping her arms around you, her leg dropping onto the floor. “Ohgodohgodohgod, m’cumming, mommy, I’mcu—AH!”

You almost fell back when she went limp on you, her knees buckling as her slick coated your fingers, your palm, her panties. You used your weight to push her back against the window, her head thudding against the glass like before, but she seemed too engulfed in her desire to care. You almost brought your hand up to comfort her sore spot, anyway, but you stopped yourself. 

You took her in: practically dangling off you as she wailed from orgasm, her face beat red, the bun at the back of her head almost loose, her eyelids fluttering. You sneered at her, a nasty grin on your face. 

“Atta girl, so excited for cock, ain’t she?”

She could only grind out yesyesyes between her teeth, her fingers still squeezing down on you as you rubbed her clit, her orgasm slowing down. 

“You gotta make me cum first, m’kay?” 

“W’na make… mommy cum!” she nodded like a bobblehead as she slurred. 

“Yeah? Want mommy’s cum in your mouth?”

She wept desperately, “Yes, please, need it!”

You grinned, catching a glimpse of your desperate reflection in the mirror. You’re so glad she was too fucked out to notice.

“C’mon, honey.” 

Ellie stood in front of you as you sat in her mother’s chair, her shoes kicked off. 

Your bag was tossed next to you as you stared at her, noting her fidgeting stance. She wasn’t looking at you, at all. She was looking down, specifically at your occupied hands. 

You’d picked up her discarded knife from the table, inspecting its rusty, scratched design, slightly bloody blade, retraction. You couldn’t stop fiddling with it. 

“W-What’re gonna do with that?” You heard her ask. 

You ignored it. “Where’d you get it?”

“It was my dad’s.” Her voice went sharp. 

“What kinda father lets his baby play with such sharp objects?” You said in between sarcastic snickers. 

“He’s fucking dead, who cares.” 

You finally looked up at her sharp tone, examining her tense face, and your playful smile slowly dropped. She tried to appear as if mentioning it didn’t bother her, but you recognized that look in her eye from anywhere. Grief fucking sucks, no matter how much time passed.

“… Hm.” 

You looked down at the blade again, then back up at her, “He taught you how to… handle it?” 

She shrugged, her brows raising as her arms crossed over her chest. You nodded. 

Your arm was suddenly incredibly itchy. “Mine taught me how to… draw n’stuff.” 

You looked off to the side awkwardly as you reminisced on the first pack of colored pencils he’d bought you. You remembered how particular he was about the art utensils and their conditions. You didn’t realize that he was trying to ensure their quality because he couldn’t afford another pack until you got older.

Always make sure these bastards are sharpened! That’s true precision!

“… Cool,” you heard her say, and you looked at her, “Were you guys, uh, close?” 

“Mhm,” You nodded stiffly, and silence surrounded the two of you. Ellie awkwardly nodded as she stared at the floor, and your lips twitched before you turned to stare out the window.

Some time passed in pure silence before you heard her speak. 

“… Still wanna, uh… D’you still wanna fuck?” 

You looked at her as she fumblingly scratched the back of her head. Her eyes met yours as her ears burned. You grinned as your shoulders rose.

“Up to you.” 

“Like… I still wanna if you do,” She nibbled on her bottom lip. 

You leaned back in her mom’s seat. 

“Ellie.” 

The deep tone of your voice made her look up, her eyes shining like crystals as her arms dropped to her sides. 

“Yes?” 

“… C’mere.” 

She moved, her sock-covered feet padding on the floor until she was in front of you. 

You looked up at her, your hand coming up to play with the hem of her sweater. 

You spoke softly, “Off. C’mon.” 

She grabbed the back of her top and lifted it over her head, her bare chest jiggling with her movements. She tossed the fabric to the floor. 

You eyed her chest like you were going to swallow her whole, her perky nipples urging you to reach out and pull on them. Her pussy is so fucking sensitive; Were her nipples just as bad? Worse? Could she cum just from you touching them? Fuck, she probably could—

“Are they… Do you like them?” 

Her soft whisper cut through your gawking. You met her eyes through your lashes as she squirmed in front of you. 

Your hands came up to grab her hips, massaging them gently. 

“Yeah, baby. They’re so pretty, fit you perfectly.” 

She sighed in content, “T-Thank you.” 

You planted a soft kiss to her tummy as you looked at your thumb around the elastic of her pants to pull them down. 

Her stomach jerked with every sharp breath as your lips moved on her bare skin. You felt her hand come up to your shoulder to grasp it as she stepped out of her pants. 

Your hands traveled upward to grab both her tits in a rough squeeze. She wheezed and arched her back so you could get closer. You heard her murmur a quiet fuckme, and you looked up. She was watching your every move with wide, curious eyes. You held her gaze as you licked up her torso, and she whimpered. 

You brought your hands back down to grab the back of her thighs, moving her closer to your lap. She placed her hands on your shoulders as she climbed on top of you, and you sucked her nipple into your mouth. 

She grinded down onto you and moaned, and your eyes fluttered shut. Your tongue made circular movements on the pert bud, and you hummed at the taste of her soft skin. Her head fell forward as she gasped right in your ear, and it made you suck on her hard. 

Her hips were jerking on top of you, trying to fuck down onto your clothed thigh as her nails plunged into your back. 

“Feels so… mmh!”

You brought your hand back up to her other tit and played with her nipple with your fingers. 

And then you slapped it. Hard. 

She let out a sharp squeak and mindlessly bounced on top of your leg; You could feel a slight dampness building on your jeans, and you scoffed at her, sneering when you pulled away. You hit her other tit just as hard, your spit transferring onto your palm. 

“Ah! Fuckfuckfu— “

Smack!

“Yes!”

SMACK!

She squealed. “M’gonna cum!”

You reached up to slap her face before pulling her hair to the side with a tight fist. 

You quickly grabbed her switchblade off the desk and unlatched the blade, the sharp edge popping up. You instantly pressed it to her neck, and she choked on a ragged pant. 

The lust in her eyes was accompanied by fear, and you grinned. 

“Don’t get scared now. You were waving it around earlier. So ready to fight, huh?” 

She shuddered, rutting down on your leg again, and you pressed the sharp edge into her skin harder. Her eyes shut tight, and two fat tears fell down her cheeks. She nearly bounced on you. 

“I could fuck you up right here, you know that, right?” 

“Please, mommy, needa cu—!”

You moved the knife away and released her hair, slapping her in the face again. “Shut the fuck up, you nearly slit my fuckin’ throat and now you wanna fuck. I should leave right now, fucking brat.”

She sobbed, “Nonono, please don’t leave, mommy don’t go, m’sorryI’m— “

“Mommy, don’t go!” you mocked. “Get on your fuckin’ knees.” 

You kept the blade pressed against her jugular as she clumsily shuffled to the floor, her cries shaking her body. 

“You wanna apologize?” She nodded jerkily, minding the silver edge on her vein.

“Yeah? Wanna make mommy feel better?” You said with a mean pout. 

“Mhm!”

You sloppily kicked your boots off and shoved them under the desk. 

“Take m’pants off, baby. C’mon.”

She moved quickly, unbuttoning and tugging your jeans and underwear down your legs as she sniffled. She yanked them off with a hard tug, and her eagerness made you giggle as you lifted your hips. You unzipped your jacket and pulled it off your shoulders, tossing it to the floor, leaving you in your black tank top. You could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of a grin on her face as she eyed your breasts before she dived towards your cunt. 

You shoved the knife closer against her, and you saw blood pool at the edge of the blade. She looked up at you with an anxious expression. 

“I didn’t say you could touch me. Ask nicely.” 

She looked confused as she mumbled brokenly, “Ask you what?”

Your brows furrowed at her, “My mistake. You probably never had to ask for shit in your life.” 

Her bruised cheeks glowed red as she looked down in embarrassment. 

You grinned slyly. “Say, mommy, may I eat your pussy, please?” 

Shock overtook her expression before she rolled her eyes at you and looked to the side.

“You’re fucking cra— “

You yanked her dark hair back and pointed the end of the blade against her bruised jaw. Her ragged breaths hit your face.

“Say it.” 

“Y-You're not gonna hurt me,” she stated unsteadily. 

“You don’t know shit about me, and even if I did hurt you, you’d want it. Admit it.” 

She avoided your gaze and her lips quivered. 

You continued. “You’d let me do anything I want because you’re disgusting. A filthy fucking slut with a silver spoon in her mouth.”

You huffed at her with a frown. “And you like girls. You’d be just as worthless as I am in her eyes if she found out.” 

You nodded over to her mother’s nameplate, and her eyes shut like she was a child getting scolded for stealing candy at the store. 

“I’m right, baby? You don’t want a husband? Don’t wanna get bred for the empire like she wants?”

She shamefully shook her head as tears fell down her face. You didn’t even know if she was in that circumstance or not, but by her reaction, it seemed to cut her deep. You ignored the searing pain in your chest.

“Mhm, so,” you turned her head so she could look at you, her red eyes burning through yours. “Something you wanna ask me?” 

Her mouth dropped open in submission.

“M-Mommy, may I… May I eat your pussy, please?” 

You smiled in satisfaction, placing a gentle kiss on her wet forehead. 

“Yes, baby, you may.” 

You pulled the knife away from her and set it on the desk, grabbing her chin to plant a kiss to her mouth. She whined happily into yours. 

You pulled back and adjusted your position, leaning back with your legs spread, the underside of your knees hooked into the armrests of the seat, your cunt on full display for her. Your sopping pussy was right next to her face, and you saw her eyes flutter in delight. 

“Want me t’show you how?” 

She nodded intensely. 

You brushed away the flyaway hairs on her forehead, your hand planted on the back of her head. 

“Spit on my clit, babe. Get it nice n’wet.” 

She released a glob of spit right onto your pulsing bud,

and you sighed as it dribbled down to your hole. You tilted her head back, remnants of slobber collecting on her chin. You gathered spit in your mouth and pulled her lower lip down, her mouth falling open. You spat onto her tongue, and she moaned, tilting her head down to spit it out all over your pussy. You bit your lip so hard; you almost drew blood.

You reached down and spread your lips, your throbbing clit poking through. You could see her trembling as she eyed you. 

“Wanna taste, Ellie?”

“Yeah, please, mommy,” she choked out. 

“Lick me, then, honey.” 

She wasted no time, the tip of her tongue circling around the nub instantly. Your mouth fell open at the sensation. The pink muscle was so soft, the licks slow and gentle, barely there. 

“Doing so good, baby, take your time,” you sighed out. 

She keened at your praise; her lashes flitted like butterfly wings in Spring as she rubbed your clit in deep licks. 

“Fuck, Ellie, s’so sensitive,” she whined against you, eyes begging for your approval as she watched your expression. You caressed her burning cheek with your pointer finger, and she licked deeper.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it, making me so happy,” her eyes rolled shut as she tongued you, sliding her tongue all over your pussy in slow strokes. 

You moaned out every time she came up to lap at your clit. You guided her head down to your hole, and her tongue slipped inside, slurping up all your slick. You were gasping her name out as her tongue wiggled inside you, swirling all over your walls. 

“Such a good girl, fuck, El!” you groaned out as wet sounds filled the room. “Wanna make mommy cum?”

She hummed excitedly and nodded, her tongue moving back up to massage your clit. You tightened her grip on her head, forcing it to move back and forth her hums shaking your clit. 

She moved her head faster against you when she sucked your clit into her mouth, and your head fell back against the chair as your eyes rolled back. Your thighs were shaking, toes curled as you squealed out encouragement. You needed to cum, she was going to make you cum!

“Get me there, pretty, m’— gonna make me fuckin’ cum— “

“Wan’mommy’s cum, please?” she sloppily murmured against you. 

“Gonna get it, baby, m’right there! —“

She was fully moaning all over your clit, “Gonna fuck you so good, angel, fuck yes!”

You peeled your eyes open and looked back down at her when she released your clit to moan aloud. Her drool and your pussy juice were all over her pink lips as she sighed and whimpered in pleasure. You couldn’t see what she was doing, but her forearm was moving frantically as quiet shhlcks filled the room. 

“Ellie.”

“Mommym’gonnacum— “

“I swear to g— “

“S’so wet, oh god, please!” 

SMACK!

Her head flew onto your thigh at your hard slap to her face, and she screamed out as her body tensed up. You watched her with a scowl as she squealed out m’cummimgsohardmommy against your skin, a puddle of drool forming on your skin. 

You yanked her hand out of her boxers, and she whined in protest as her orgasmed died, her hips bucking back into the air. You stood up, pulling her up by her waist and bending her over the desk, holding her down by her neck. 

“Stop fucking with me, Ellie.” You pulled her boxers down under her ass, taking in the sight of her still pulsating cunt and her twitchy ass. 

She spat at you over her shoulder, “Or wha— “

SMACK!

She groaned out in pain against the wood when your hand connected with her asscheek in a fiery slap, your hand burning. 

“Motherfuc— “

SMACK! 

You hit her and hit her. And hit her again. And again. Until she was jerking away from you, her hips bucking against the desk and your handprints covering her ass in a cherry-red tint. 

You don’t even remember how many times you slapped her, but she was sobbing out apologies against the desk, asking for your forgiveness over her tears.

“You done fucking around?” Your hand felt like it was in flames when you dropped it on the desk.

“Yesyes, mommy, I won’t—sob— won’t fuck up again!” 

“I was actually gonna eat your pussy out,” you scoffed out nastily, and she only cried harder at the insinuation that you weren’t anymore. “You don’t want that, you don’t want me fucking nice.” 

You pulled away and walked towards your discarded

bag on the floor, digging through it and pulling your dick out, stepping into and adjusting the straps as you watched her bruised ass jiggle with each wail. 

Your dick stood up as you walked back over to her. You gave her one last hard slap on her marked ass and pulled her up by her arm, shoving her onto her knees in front of you so she was trapped between you and the desk. 

You could see her wiping away tears, but you grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at you. 

“You want dick so bad? Get it wet so I can fuck you.” 

Shock appeared on her face.

“Y-You’re gonna fuck me with that?” You watched her inspect the size of you. The length, the girth, all the ridges. Her breathing got heavier the longer she stared.

“Now you’re fucking scared, really, Ellie?”

“I’m not sca— “

“Talk back again, and I’m leaving. You’re getting on my fucking nerves.” 

She glared at you, but looked down, straight at your tip, then back at you. 

And then she spit on it, a fat glob of saliva dribbling down the sides of your cock. Her hand came up to wrap around the base, rubbing her spit into the silicone. She held eye contact with you as she stuck her tongue out. You reached down and placed your hand on top of hers, slapping your tip on her slobbery muscle. 

“Good fucking whore, good n’sloppy,” you let go to pat her still-red cheek with a heavy hand, and her pretty eyes hardened, her blush deepening. She dropped her mouth open, her lips curling on the tip as she sucked on it. You bit your lip as you watched her tongue swirl around you.

She moaned around the silicone, her eyes filthy. Her hand spread her spit up all over you as she took in your inches slowly, jerking you off and slobbering on you at the same time. She looked like a fucking pornstar, like she practiced for this, like she wanted to impress you, and you shook like you could actually feel her mouth. Your pussy was desperate to cum, but you pushed it aside and watched her. 

She released you with a wet pop, her tongue flicking around your tip like she was lapping at your cum, and you couldn’t stop the moan that left your mouth. 

“Nasty slut, goddamn— “

She smiled like you just called her the prettiest girl in the world before sucking you back in, her head bobbing up and down as she slurped you up. There was so much spit on your length that it started dripping onto the floor.

You bucked forward, your hips moving on autopilot, and she choked on you, her hand coming up to your thigh to squeeze it. You ignored her grasp and fucked into her mouth harder, pinning both her arms above her head on the desk. She gargled around your dick, and you could only imagine the tightness of her throat with each gag. 

“What, baby? Don’t like it? Want me t’stop?” You gritted out. And you thrusted deeper. She moaned and her mouth opened wider.

She was making wet noises around you, her head thudding against the top drawer of the desk when you fucked in. You fucked your entire cock down her throat, and she gagged hard. 

You pulled out and let her go.

She fell forward and coughed hard, her drool pooling down on the eggshell floors as she choked. You watched in irritation as she heaved.

“Get up,” her gasps slowed as she breathed in deeply, and she lifted her head to glare at you from her hunched position. 

“Get up.” 

“Fuck you,” she spluttered.

“I’m gonna. Get up.”

Despite her bitterness, she slowly stood and instantly bent over the desk with her scarred ass poked out towards you. You chuckled when you saw both her holes pulse in excitement.

“That’s how it is?” you slapped her asscheek, and her hips bucked back against your hand. 

“Uh huh,” you heard her crackly mumble dazedly. “Need you t’make me cum.”

“Seemed alright doing it yourself a few minutes ago.”

She ignored you, and you smirked, “Need your cock, mommy, pleeease, please— “

You reached out, running two fingers over her drenched slit, and she pressed back on them as she sighed in pleasure. You slowly slid your fingers down to her clit, and she moaned aloud, her thighs jerking. 

“Look at this fucking pussy, jesus.” 

“I-It’s pretty?”

“Yeah, baby, fuck,” your mouth watered when you saw her walls clench. “Can’t even be mad, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Then fuck me,” she whined out sweetly, looking at you over her shoulder. 

You leaned down until you were eye level with her pussy, her walls squelching and squeezing repeatedly. You bit your lip and kitty-licked her cunt, her slick painting your taste buds as her smell surrounded you, and she jumped at the feeling. 

“Taste like fucking honey.” 

“So do you, made me so wet,” she exhaled as she shivered in anticipation. 

“S’gonna hurt,” you whispered, more to yourself as you eyed her tightness. 

“Don’t care.” She pushed back on your face.

“Put your hands behind your back. Don’t move them.” 

She shuddered and obeyed instantly, her hands overlapping at the wrists at the small of her back. 

You pressed one last kiss to her pussy before standing upright, “You move your hands, I stop.”

“Not gonna move, mommy,” she whispered in between unsteady breaths. “Make me feel good, please. Please, please.”

“Shh. Got you, baby. Open your legs,” you caressed her back and she squirmed. You felt goosebumps rise all over her skin, and you smirked.

The gap between her thighs widened even more for you, her cunt on full display. You could hear her beckoning you to pop the tip inside her in tiny, desperate whispers, and it made your core clench. 

You inched closer to her until the back of her thighs pressed against the front of yours. You wrapped a hand around your wet dick and brought it up to her slit, soaking it in her gooey slick and sliding it between her silky lips. Her cunt was already soaking your entire length and you didn’t even fuck her yet. She was subtly pushing back on you, trying to get you inside her. 

You heard the enthusiasm in her voice when she keened, “Mommy, please, it’s right there!”

“Mhm, I know, I see it,” you mumbled wetly, her gooey cunt looked so pretty under the light of the city, shining like glitter.

“Making mommy so wet baby, such a pretty girl,” you brought your cock back up to her slit and pushed forward, slowly popping the tip in her snug opening. She squealed loudly, and you saw her fists clench at the end of her spine as her walls clung to you, pulling you in.

“Yesyesyes, oh god, mommy, fuck, uh huh!”

“Yeah, baby? It hurts?” 

“Nooo, feels s’good, oh shit! —“

You slowly pushed in another inch, gauging her reaction for any discomfort, your thumb moving on her hip softly. She tried to push back to take you deeper, but you held her hips down.

“Fuck mefuckmefuckme— “

“Gonna be my good girl, baby? Gonna take it nice’n deep?” 

“Yeah, mommy!”

You pushed in even deeper, and you could feel the resistance of her cunt the more you slid in. You couldn’t stop the moan you released when she said your name. 

“Y-You’re splitting me open, ffuck— “

You pressed in the last bit of your dick, her ass resting at the top of your thighs, your hands propping you up on the desk as you leaned above her, placed on either side of her head. She was sighing heavily in satisfaction, and you could see her glossy eyes rolling. 

“Feelin’ good?”

She nodded slowly, “U-Use me, mommy, please use me t’cum, fuck.”

“Gotta take care of my girl first,” you fucked out of her slowly before snapping your hips, fucking all your inches back into her, and she screamed. “Such a tight pussy.”

You bent down to kiss her pretty back, down her spine as you stroked her deeply. You’d barely completed your fourth stroke before you felt Ellie tense up under you, her body shuddering as she moaned quietly to herself. You snickered at her. 

“Baby’s cumming?” you licked up her spine again. 

You could only see her nod in jerky headshakes from where you stood, her cheek pressed against the desk. You looked down at where you were connected, and you could see how her walls struggled to choke your dick. You grabbed her wrists in one hand and fucked her through her orgasm, your free hand sneaking under her hips to rub her clit. 

The second her body relaxed, you saw the muscles in her back flex again, the arch in her back deepening, “Mommy, think—m’cumming again, oh god, motherfu— “

“How many are you gonna give me, angel?” you rubbed her clit faster, fucking in harder. 

“I feel it, I feel it, fuck!” She wasn’t listening to anything you were saying as she yelled in her pleasure. You could see how much she was wetting your cock, lines of her slick forming every time you pulled out of her. You angled your hips downward when you fucked back in, and she shouted your name out, her warnings of her orgasm echoing in your ears. You released her clit and pinned her down by her neck again. 

“Like it right there, baby? That’s the spot?” You could feel your core squeezing with every cry she let out, her voice completely broken, her squeals scratchy. 

She was babbling about something, but you weren’t listening, the squelchy sounds of her cunt increasing in volumes as you forced your dick in her, stirring her guts up. 

You looked down and saw her ass squeezing with every quiver of her cunt, and you licked your lips. You let her wrists go and brought a hand to your mouth, sucking your thumb in to wet it before rubbing her ass with it. 

She let out a loud slew of ah ah ahs before you felt a burst of wetness on your thighs, dripping down onto the floor. Her entire body was jerking back onto your, her rosy ass jiggling every time she hit your hips. 

But then you heard a slam above her shouts of pleasure and mommy!

You looked up to check on her unsteady form as she continued to drench your lap, her hand resting on the back of her mother’s nameplate, her fingertips digging into the wood as she screamed in her euphoria. 

It made you fuck her harder and pull her hand away from the dog tag. You didn’t even care about punishing her anymore, you needed to cum. You’d been riding that edge since you got here, and you knew you were going to cum so hard.

You leaned over her body and grinded into her, moving her hand away from the plate and sitting back up in its position. You grabbed her by her spit-coated chin so she could look dead at her mother’s name. She whimpered and tried to look away from it, but you tightened the grip on her face to keep her still. 

“Look at it, baby— “

She sobbed, murmuring how hard she was about to cum again, her eyes fluttering as she stared at it, her cheeks glowing like apples.

You bent down to her ear, “You embarrassed, angel? Huh? Wanna close your eyes? Gonna squirt on me again?”

She was looking dead at the plate, “You’re so deep, mommy, fuck yes, m’gonna!—“

“Nasty fucking slut, taking it so good,” You looked up at the clear window as your thrusts picked up pace again, the entire city shining through the glass in all its glory. Every light of every building, people roaming, honking, noises of construction. It was all beneath you, and it was all theirs. The strap was bumping on your clit with each thrust. 

“Look at your city, baby,” you lifted her weightless head by her wild, knotted hair and made her look into the distance as you groaned in pleasure. “Gonna be all yours one day, can do whatever you want with it soon.”

“Fuuuck— “

“Uh huh, you like having that power? You can get whatever the fuck you want— “

“M-Mommy!”

“Just need a baby, right? Gonna g-give her what she wants? Gonna give her that precious heir, that golden child?”

“Yesyesyes! Wan’your baby, ge’me fucking pregnant!”

You moaned at her begging as you babbled mindlessly to her, “Gonna cum in you, fuck, need it… t’catch— “

She was screaming about how your seed was going to catch in her womb, how hard she was going to squirt again, begging you to fuck her harder, hurt her, make her bleed, make her scream. You could feel your senses leaving as your orgasm built as she pushed back on you, and you moaned her name in her ear. 

“Fuuuck, Ellie,” your clit jerked, and you let her go, her head falling onto her arm in front of her as she yelled in euphoria. “Gonna make that bitch raise my fuckin’ kid while I’m gone? Huh?”

She didn’t even react to your slip of your departure, “Yeahyesyesyes! Fuck, I’m cumming!”

You felt another spray of liquid drip down your legs as you drilled her, and it triggered your own orgasm. Your clit jerked as your release rushed through you, your walls clenching as your body shook on top of hers, grinding against her to ride it out. You could almost feel the sensation of filling her up, her cunt sucking your cum deep inside her. 

She was still moaning above you, wringing the last bits of her orgasm out on your cock. You whined against her sweaty skin, the aftershocks moving through you. 

You felt her go completely lax underneath you, heavy sighs leaving her parted lips. 

You both caught your breaths in soothing silence. 

After Ellie asked you to show her how to kiss properly, the pounding of your heart refused to slow down. 

You were seated in her mother’s chair once more, her wetness still coating you in stickiness as she straddled your lap, her arms around your neck as she gazed at you nervously.

“We just fucked, why do you look like that?”

Her brows creased, “Like what?”

“Like you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips before looking back up at you. 

You only hummed at her, brushing your noses together before leaning forward, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her down to you. Her eyes shut tightly, and her lips puckered in front of yours, and you pulled back, grabbing her face to stop her.

“Stop doing that, just relax.” 

“… What’d I do?”

You mimicked her, poking your lips out stiffly before breaking out into a grin. She huffed with a tiny smile, shaking her head, “Sorry.”

You shrugged, uncaring. She looked down, “Where do I put my tongue?” 

You snorted, “Nowhere yet.”

You craned your neck up slowly and connected your mouth with hers gently, your lips molding against hers. She sighed and leaned closer into you, her arms tightening around the back of your neck. You felt a sharp sting in your chest at her delicate touch, and you pulled away. A soft smack filled the room when you separated. She smiled softly, “That was cute.” 

You nodded stiffly, murmuring a mhm, before looking down. Out the window. Behind her. Anywhere but her eyes. 

You felt her nuzzle against your cheek, kissing it gently, “Are we… uh, fucking again?” 

“You want to?” The pounding in your ears was giving you a headache. 

You felt her nod. Another kiss to your cheek. Another pull in your heart. 

Your hands planted on her hips, lifting them so she could sit on you, but she grabbed your wrists to stop you. 

Her hands latched onto the hem of your shirt, attempting to pull it up and over your head, but your hand caught her wrist. Not harshly, but stern.

Her eyes softened at your masked expression, releasing the gentle grip on your shirt, “I’m, uh… I’m sorr— “

“It’s fine. Ready?” you grabbed the base of your dick in your hand, and she mumbled a quiet yes. 

You felt her hand come on top of yours as she helped you guide it to her entrance, and your breath shook as you exhaled.

Her hips came down on you at her own pace, your free hand resting on her hip. She gasped when it slipped inside, her hands coming to support herself on each armrest. 

“Feels different like this,” she whispered huskily.

You smirked, “I know, take your time.” 

She nodded, slowly sinking down on you. You saw her eyelids get heavy as her walls caught on every ridge of you, her head falling back in her pleasure. Her soft locks disheveled all over her head, her bun nonexistent as her bobby pins stuck out from every direction. 

She slid in too deep, though. She let out a pained gasp as she caught herself on the chair, her brows furrowing. 

“Okay?” you checked in.

She nodded, her lip in between her teeth, “So deep like this, fuck… don’t know if I can go all the way down.”

“It’s fine, babe, make yourself feel good.” 

“H-Help me?” her breathing was picking up as her hips bucked. 

Your other hand flew to her hips, digging into her soft skin as you guided her hips on you. You eased her into a deep grind, and her hands flew behind you, landing on the headrest behind you. 

Her head rested in the crook of your neck as she followed your movements, her wet moans hitting the side of your neck. The sensation of her breath on your skin made your pussy clench. 

“Am I—gasp—doing good, m-mommy?” 

“Fucking me so good, baby, shit,” you whispered in her ear, and she moaned aloud in yours. She sped up on you, the harness digging into your clit with each swivel of her hips. 

Your hands moved down to grab her ass, spreading her cheeks before slapping them, grabbing the plush of them in your hands. She fucked you harder, and you felt her spit drip on your neck as she wailed into your skin. You threw your head back on the headrest when she sucked on your neck, right on your open scar.

She lifted her head up and looked at you with gentle eyes, her hands moving down from the headrest to grab your cheeks in a soft touch. She was panting on your mouth, her lips brushing against yours with every jump on you. She was so close and she smelled so good, her lips soft. 

She whispered dreamily, “Can’t stop cumming— “

Your eyelids fluttered, “Then don’t. Give it to me, m’so close— “

She grinded harder as she leaned down to connect your lips in a honey-sweet kiss. You reciprocated against your brain's desires. 

Push her away. She’ll never be yours! This is all she wants from you!

Tears built in your eyes as your peak approached, her moans increasing in urgency against your mouth. You sucked on her bottom lip, biting it hard. This is the most eager you’ve felt since you touched her. 

“Cum with me, pleasepleaseplease— “

“I’m gonna, baby, fuck me hard!”

She was going crazy on your dick, full-on bouncing on you, taking it all despite her protests earlier, and you felt yourself tipping. Your pussy squeezed and soaked the harness as your orgasm pulled in your gut. You looked down at your cock, and it was drenched in her white, sticky substance. She was creaming all over your cock as she used you. It made your eyes cross in your skull as your euphoria hit you. 

You were so loud as your nails tore into her skin, your moans matching hers in volume. You felt another splash of fluid on you, and you came harder, another wave crashing through you. You would’ve curled in on yourself if she wasn’t on top of you. 

You felt her tongue slide into your hungry mouth, swirling around yours as you shouted through your high. She was making you feel so good, and you couldn’t fucking think. 

You felt like you were cumming for minutes before the harsh pulses slowed into soft twitches, her hips slowing, and she bent down to kiss you. The touch was soft, sweet, undeserved. You stiffened, on guard immediately. 

She was close, she was too close. Her soft caresses on your face snapped you out of your intoxication, pulling away from her mouth and grabbing her hips to pull her off your dick. 

“T-Turn around, Ellie.”

“Huh?” she asked softly, her eyes teary and delicate. 

“T-Turn around,” your voice trembled.

“O-Okay.”

She was too fucking close. 

She lifted off you, planting her feet on the ground and you spun her. You pulled her down on your lap, her ass in front of your cock. You grabbed your tip, pushing it past her entrance, and she mewled. She took it with ease, mewling out as her back arched into you, swallowing you whole as she sunk down again. 

She planted her hands on your knees and immediately bounced on you, her toned ass meeting the base of your harness with every jump on your cock. 

You could see her pussy suck on your inches, suffocating your girth, her walls clinging to you. 

You grabbed her neck and pushed her forward slightly, and she cried out in painful pleasure. You planted your feet on the floor and fucked up into her. 

“Fuck! Your dick feels so fucking good! Oh my—agh!”

You saw even move cream spread over your dick with every fuck inside her squishy walls. You were moaning with her, fucking her harder, faster, the hand on her neck moving up to pull her hair hard. The sound of wet skin slapping accompanied the sounds you both made in your pleasured state. 

You were going to cum so fucking quick, “Fuck, Ellie, shit— “

“I’m gonna cum so hard, mommy!” your hand in her hair flew down to her hip, grinding her down harder on you. You moaned at the feeling.

“Yeah? Already?” You were right behind her, those euphoric waves pulling in your gut.

“Fuck—fuckyes!”

“Want it so bad, get it all over this fucking dick, baby— “

Her hand that'd been playing with her tits flew down on top of yours on her waist, her fingers lacing with yours tightly as she shouted, screaming your name. She met your harsh thrusts as she bounced, and she squirted on you again, and you watched it gush out of her, wetting your stomach and harness and the chair beneath her, the sound of splattering liquid on the floor making you cum the hardest you ever had. Your vision whitened as your orgasm crushed you. 

She kept cumming on you, and you kept cumming for her. The pleasure didn’t stop, and all you could do was scream her name out like she did yours, hold her hand tighter as your brain melted. She rocked back and forth on you, prolonging your orgasm, making you cum harder. It just kept building in intensity, the aggressive pulses wracking through you, your toes curling as she milked you, and all you could do was take it.

You blacked out in her mom’s chair, the last thing you remember seeing was her pulsing, squirting pussy, pulsing ass, and the auburn stars that painted her entire back. 

Some time passed, your lashes fluttering open as you felt soft touches on your face. 

You were met with delicate, green eyes, Ellie looking at you with a softness you hadn’t seen in years. It felt foreign, deep, and it made your heart pick up in panic. 

You pulled away from her touches and looked around unsteadily. 

She was too close. Too fucking close.

The office was a mess: clothes everywhere, the floor was soaked, the whole room smelled like sex and pussy, desk askew, its contents thrown everywhere, Ellie’s tears and puddles of spit all over the surface. You could even see splatters of… her on her mother’s restraining order against you. 

You were suddenly terrified, moving into action and guiding her off your lap so you could stand. You undid the straps of your dick and stepped out of it, cringing at the drying stickiness, and throwing it into your backpack.

You heard her speak from behind you, “Hey, hey, you okay? What’s wr— ‘

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, I gotta go,” you said tensely. Unwelcoming. Guarded.

“Did… did I do something?” She sounded too soft, too gentle. 

“No, Ellie, I just, I gotta go,” You dressed erratically, pulling your underwear up and jeans on, wincing at your cum sticking to your garments. 

You could hear the crack in her voice, “Can I… do you need help or— “

“Ellie, I’m fucking fine. I’m fine, okay? Forget it.” You spat over your shoulder as you repacked. Don’t look at her, don’t fucking look at her. 

She sounded just as anxious as you did, “W-Why are you so upset with me all of a sudden? What’d I do— “

“You didn't do shit! Can you fucking drop it please!”

Her breath shuddered, “I thought… I thought we were… okay?” 

You whipped around to face her, an incredulous look on your face. Your heart shattered when she flinched, but you yelled at her anyway. Why the hell did you look at her?

“Why the fuck would we be okay?! Did you forget how we fucking met in the first place!” You pointed behind her to the soiled court order, “We’re never going to be fucking okay! Get that through your fucking head.” 

You reached down to grab your heavy bag, throwing it over your shoulder in a hurry. You felt like you were going to suffocate. You needed to go. Right now. You turned towards the door. You hadn’t even shut it all the way when you came in. 

“I’m never going to see you again, am I?” 

Your own tears fell at the dejected acceptance in her voice. She sounded so broken, and it was all your fault. 

But you knew this was for the best. The two of you could never exist together in bliss, even though meeting her was the most human you’ve felt since you were a child. Since your father was alive. 

But you were too different, too damaged. All you would do is hurt each other, you would resent each other, grow to hate, to regret. The world was too cruel, and she was not prepared for its harshness. You were barely prepared, and you lived it every day. And you promised yourself to never go through the despair of loss again. You walked towards the door and heard her release a quiet sob. 

“No,” you pulled the knob, the spacious hallway being another reminder that you didn’t belong. Not here, not anywhere. Her mother was right. 

You were worthless. Held no value in this society. 

In another life, you could’ve been something great. Your cards could’ve been different, better. You could’ve made your father proud. The two of you could’ve been happy.

“You won’t.” 

You left the same way you came, moving in urgency before her sobs lured you back to take her in your arms, against your will. 

Maybe in another life. 

hi lol OOOOOOWEEEEE 

this was heavy sorry gworlies i love sad shit 

don’t hate me too much? 

omg tell me what y’all thought or whatever *looks away shyly 

thank u 4 reading if u did :3

hi taglist love yall @cherriessxinthespring @ellieswifee @elliespookie @belovednanami @sevikasimp @saturnsellie

[stillnaomi]

World War III and the Fall of Imperialism

A speech by Booker Ngesa Omole, The National Vice Chairperson of the Communist Party of Kenya

As we gather here at the 7th International Conference of the World Anti-Imperialist Platform, we stand at a critical juncture in our shared struggle against the scourge of imperialism. Today, I want to discuss a stark reality that looms over our world: the inevitability of World War III, driven by the unrelenting aggression of imperialist powers. This war is not a distant possibility but a present danger, rooted in the insatiable greed of monopoly capital.

Imperialism, in its various manifestations, poses an existential threat to the sovereignty of African nations. Initiatives such as AFRICOM serve as instruments of this imperialist agenda, undermining our autonomy and reducing our countries to mere pawns in the geopolitical chess game orchestrated by Western powers. These military strategies are designed not to protect our people but to secure the interests of the imperialist elite.

In Kenya alone, we host three foreign military bases, a glaring testament to the erosion of our sovereignty. These bases are not just symbols of military presence; they represent a direct violation of our independence and dignity. They subjugate our military and intelligence agencies to the whims of U.S. imperialism, turning our institutions into extensions of foreign powers. This scenario is replicated across the continent, where foreign military presence is a common thread in the tapestry of imperialist domination.

The spectre of World War III is already haunting us, as conflicts rage on multiple fronts. In West Asia, the struggle against Zionist aggression is an anti-imperialist, antifascist war. In Eastern Europe, we witness the brutal realities of NATO-backed conflict in Ukraine. And in East Asia, tensions simmer around Taiwan and the Korean Peninsula, echoing the same imperialist ambitions.

Lenin, in his classic work “Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism,” eloquently articulated the dynamics of imperialism and its inevitable contradictions. He described how imperialism seeks to escape internal crises through external wars. Today, we observe this in the provocations and military exercises conducted by the United States and its allies, which serve not just as a show of force but as desperate attempts to maintain their declining hegemony.

Yet, amidst this chaos, the anti-imperialist camp is rising, united in its struggle against oppression. Comrades in Russia, China, the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, Iran, and various resistance movements across the Global South are not seeking war; they are prepared for a just struggle against imperialist aggression. The unity and operational strength of the anti-imperialist front underscore a powerful truth: we are not alone in this fight.

The reliance of imperialism on proxy wars and economic sanctions reveals its strategic limitations. The imperialist powers fear direct confrontation, knowing the consequences of nuclear escalation. This hesitation will be their downfall. While they aim to exhaust nations like Russia, China, and Iran, we can turn their war of attrition into decisive victories across multiple theatres of conflict. These victories will not only weaken imperialism militarily but will also trigger a political and economic collapse. The fragmentation of NATO, the decline of the U.S. dollar’s hegemony, and the emergence of BRICS and other alternative institutions signal the end of the US imperialist order.

The eventual defeat of US imperialism will pave the way for a new global order defined by national liberation revolutions and the defeat of all neo-colonial projects across Africa, Asia, and Latin America. This new order will also see the inevitable resurgence of socialist revolutions and the establishment of people’s democracies. Additionally, there will be a true commitment to peace, independence, and self-determination as guiding principles for global governance.

As we face the challenges of our time, let us reaffirm our commitment to the struggle against imperialism. The victory belongs to the people. The end of imperialism will not only reshape global politics but empower nations to pursue socialism, democracy, and peaceful coexistence.

In conclusion, as we confront the spectre of World War III, let us remember that this is a final confrontation between the forces of imperialism and those of anti-imperialist resistance. Together, we shall emerge victorious, heralding a new era of hope, freedom, and progress for all.

Death to Imperialism!

Long live International Socialism!

[dailyhistoryposts]

A Rundown of Henry Kissinger's Life

“Once you’ve been to Cambodia, you’ll never stop wanting to beat Henry Kissinger to death with your bare hands. You will never again be able to open a newspaper and read about that treacherous, prevaricating, murderous scumbag sitting down for a nice chat with Charlie Rose or attending some black-tie affair for a new glossy magazine without choking. Witness what Henry did in Cambodia – the fruits of his genius for statesmanship – and you will never understand why he’s not sitting in the dock at The Hague next to Milošević. While Henry continues to nibble nori rolls and remaki at A-list parties, Cambodia, the neutral nation he secretly and illegally bombed, invaded, undermined, and then threw to the dogs, is still trying to raise itself up on its one remaining leg.”

--Anthony Bourdain (2018)

It's difficult to be precise, but all told Henry Kissinger killed hundreds of thousands of civilians in pursuit of American business interests.

EARLY LIFE

Henry Kissinger was born in 1923 as Heinz Kissinger in Fürth, Bavaria, Germany, to a German-Jewish family. Throughout his youth, he was relentlessly and violently harassed and discriminated against by members of the Hitler Youth and authorities. At the age of 15, Kissinger and his family fled Nazi Germany, settling in New York City. He finished high school at George Washington High School in NYC and began studying accounting at the City College of New York, but his undergraduate studies were interrupted in 1943 when he was drafted into the US army.

In the army, fluent German speakers were in short supply, so Kissinger was quickly assigned to military intelligence. During the American invasion of Germany, he worked to set up civilian administration of conquered cities and tracked down Gestapo officers as a Special Agent of the Counter Intelligence Corps. He received the Bronze Star Medal

After his time in the army, Kissinger returned to his studies. He graduated summa cum laude in political science from Harvard College, as well as his Masters and PhD. He taught at Harvard, and his studies focused on international 'legitimacy', when an international order is widely accepted by international leaders, without regard to public opinion or morality.

POLITICS

Beginning in the 1950s, Kissinger began to be more active on the political stage. He was a consultant for the National Security Council and a study director for the Council of Foreign Relations. He notably was against Eisenhower's massive retaliation nuclear doctrine, where the United States would respond to a nuclear attack with a much, much greater nuclear attack. Instead, Kissinger advocated the use of tactical nuclear weapons on a regular basis in more wars.

In the 1960s, Kissinger began working with Republicans running for office as an advisor in foreign affairs. He contributed to the Nixon campaign, and when Nixon took office in 1969, Kissinger was appointed as National Security Advisor, and later Secretary of State. As a diplomat, Kissinger heavily used Realpolitik, the in-fashion Cold War approach focusing on pragmatism and realistic outcomes rather than ideological or moral purity. In international politics, it largely has to do with obtaining and maintaining power on the world stage.

Kissinger focused on relaxing US tensions with the USSR and China, leading an American foreign policy that supported Taiwan on the face but in the shadows removed all support for Taiwan and essentially waited for it to fall apart.

In 1974, he directed the National Security Study Memorandum 200: Implications of Worldwide Population Growth for U.S. Security and Overseas Interests (NSSM200), sometimes called the "Kissinger Report" the official United States policy for many years, though it remained classified until the 1990s. The Kissinger Report advocated for population control in undeveloped nations to ensure easy resource extraction and protect American business interests abroad. Projects were designed to reduce fertility while keeping up the appearance of improving quality of life--the plan specifically attempted to avoid an appearance of "economic or racial imperialism". Birth rate was particularly noted due to concerns about an adequate global food supply and because young people more readily fight back against corruption and imperialism. The Report also brought up increasing abortion rates as a method of obtaining this goal.

In 1975, policies based on the Report went into affect. The National Security Council would recommend withholding food and using military force to prevent population growth, prioritizing aid for small families, and even paying people to get sterilized. Thirteen countries were named as particularly problematic to US interests. Of note, Nigeria lost development and the United States took control of Nigerian resources, and the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) was responsible for some of the 300,000 forced sterilizations in Peru--largely impoverished or indigenous women--during the Fujimori administration. The Fujimori government has been accused of crimes against humanity by the International Criminal Court for these abuses, and today the Peruvian economy suffers due to the low population resulting from these sterilizations.

ACTIONS IN SOUTHEAST ASIA

The Vietnam War had started back in 1955. Kissinger had originally supported it, but as time dragged on began to view it as harming American prestige. Kissinger leaked information about peace talks to get into power at Nixon's side, and then failed to end the war in 1972, leading to the Christmas bombings. A very similar agreement was signed the next month, leading to a ceasefire (that would collapse) and the withdrawal of American troops--bitterly seen as a betrayal by South Vietnam. When Kissinger and Vietnamese diplomat Lê Đức Thọ were jointly awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for this, Thọ declined to accept it and two members of the Nobel Committee left it in protest.

It was in the middle of the Vietnam War, and during the Cambodian Civil War, that Operation Menu and Operational Freedom Deal went into play. From March 1969 to May 1970, the United States Strategic Air Command carried out a series of first tactical and then carpet bombings in eastern Cambodia. Then, from May 1970 to August 1973, the United States provided close air support and widespread bombing. Part of a 'secret' war to support the Kingdom of Cambodia/Khmer Republic against communist rebels, it ultimately failed and the communists would take power in 1975.

In the Bangladesh Liberation War in 1971, Nixon and Kissinger supported the Pakistani president Yahya Khan. It was in this that the strongest dissent in the history of the U.S. Foreign Service, the Blood Telegram (named after sender Archer Blood), was sent. It reports the US was about to lose, describes systemic abuses, and uses the word 'genocide' to describe the actions by US-supported Pakistan. It said the US government was morally bankrupt. Blood was recalled early from Bangladesh, and US interests were lost when Bangladeshi Independence was secured within the year.

MIDDLE EASTERN POLICY

Kissinger was originally excluded from any policy-making on Israel, as part of Nixon's orders to exclude all Jewish-Americans from such work. Still, in 1973, when Kissinger became Secretary of State, he was included in all US Middle Eastern policy. This means he was largely responsible for the handling of the Yom Kippur War--this handling included not noticing precipitating factors leading up to it (he was so engrossed in Paris peace talks he didn't notice the Egyptian President Sadat ready to move on Sinai), delaying telling Nixon about and stalled negotiating a ceasefire, hoping Israel would push across and fully obtain the Suez Canal.

Kissinger's diplomacy included giving equipment to Israel, but not as much as he'd promised, and selling weapons to Saudi Arabia at the same time, in exchange for access to Saudi Arabian oil. By largely handling to event and not involving France or the United Kingdom, and by minimizing the power of the Soviet Union, Kissinger took large steps in giving US power over much of the Middle East.

It should be noted that this was done purely to protect US interests rather than any form of Jewish security. When questioned about the persecution of Soviet Jews at the same time, Kissinger said

"The emigration of Jews from the Soviet Union is not an objective of American foreign policy, and if they put Jews into gas chambers in the Soviet Union, it is not an American concern. Maybe a humanitarian concern."

-Henry Kissinger (1973)

Also in the region., Kissinger supported Iran against Iraq.

TURKISH INVASION OF CYPRUS

In 1974, the Greek military regime and Turkiye invaded the island of Cyprus. The military regime had been supported by Kissinger, and anti-Kissinger sentiment was strong among young people. Cyprus is now an independent island country, though its northeast portion is de facto separate, making up the self-declared Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus. Kissinger considers his own handling of the Cyprus Issue unfavorably.

LATIN AMERICA

With Kissinger's influence, the United States maintained relations with non-left-wing governments regardless of commitment to democracy. It was with Kissinger's input that the CIA encouraged a military coup against Chilean president-elect Salvador Allende due to his socialist ideals.

Operation Condor, a US-backed program of political repression by right-wing dictatorships of southern South America, was also Kissinger's work. It included assassinations, the Dirty War in Argentina, and supporting Brazil's nuclear weapons program because it would benefit the U.S. private nuclear industry.

SOME OTHER STUFF

Kissinger's policy on post-WWII decolonization was mixed, based on what would benefit the U.S. He helped transition Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) away from White minority rule, expressed moderate support for the Portuguese Colonial Empire, and helped Indonesia occupy East Timor.

After Watergate forced Nixon to resign, Kissinger stayed on under President Ford but left office when Democrat Jimmy Carter came into power. He was offered an endowed chair at Columbia University, which was canceled due to student opposition, but was appointed to Georgetown University instead. He ran a consulting firm, supported the Chinese government in the Tiananmen Square massacre, and served on the 2000 Commission of the International Olympic Committee. He was supposed to help President Bush respond to the 9/11 attacks but stepped down because he refused to reveal if he had a business conflict of interest.

In 2010, he took a strong stance urging world governments to destroy all nuclear weapons. In the 2014 Ukrainian crisis, he said that Crimea should remain under Ukrainian sovereignty, but in the 2022 Russian invasion of Ukraine said that Crimea and Donbas should be given to Russia.

Kissinger was a board member of Theranos, Elizabeth Holmes' biotech scam.

In response to the 2023 Hamas attack on Israel, and seeing pro-Palestinian protestors in Germany, Kissinger called Muslim immigration into Germany "a grave mistake".

DEATH

Kissinger died peacefully in his home in Connecticut on November 29th, 2023,

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Akbar Shahid Ahmed at HuffPost:

The United Nations’ top court on Friday said Israel is illegally occupying the Palestinian regions it has controlled since 1967 and must end its presence in them — a landmark statement that boosts momentum for a change in Israeli policy.

The court found that Israel is committing major violations of international law, including “de facto annexation” of occupied land and breaking the global prohibition against racial discrimination and apartheid. It concluded that Israel should take steps like evacuating settlers and making reparations to affected Palestinians. It also emphasized Palestinians’ right to self-determination, and said other countries are obliged to cease support for Israel’s occupation and to help end the policy “as rapidly as possible.” The advisory opinion from the International Court of Justice covers Israeli practices in the occupied West Bank, in East Jerusalem (which Israel claims as its own territory) and in the Gaza Strip. The opinion from the panel of 15 judges from around the world, selected by the U.N. General Assembly, is non-binding and has no immediate consequences. The ICJ previously issued an opinion in 2004 saying Israel’s construction of a “separation wall” in the West Bank was illegal, yet the wall is still standing 20 years later.

[...] Meanwhile, the ICJ has found that various ongoing Israeli practices, from demolishing Palestinian homes to imposing “a regime of comprehensive restriction” on Palestinian movement, hinder the chances of Palestinian statehood ― which could bolster the argument that the longer the current situation persists, the less likely peace becomes.

[...] On Thursday, Israel’s parliament voted against the eventual establishment of a Palestinian state, backing a resolution that called the prospect “an existential danger to the State of Israel.” Many members of Israel’s security establishment and supporters of the country abroad argue the opposite: that reaching an agreement is the only way to lower tensions and respect Israel’s stated identity as a Jewish and democratic state.

[...] The court’s consideration of the Israeli occupation is separate from the case it is considering between South Africa and Israel, in which the former argues the latter may be committing genocide against Palestinians through its ongoing offensive in the Gaza Strip. The court has said there is a “plausible” risk of genocide, and issued three orders requiring Israel to change its conduct to do more to shield civilians. Those orders, known as provisional measures, are meant to be binding, but Israel has largely maintained the policies the court criticized, such as limits on the provision of aid to Gaza. The Friday opinion is also distinct from the action that another body, the International Criminal Court, is considering in relation to Israel-Palestine. The ICC’s top prosecutor is seeking arrest warrants against Israel’s prime minister and defense minister and three leaders of the Palestinian militant faction Hamas for alleged war crimes during the Oct. 7 attack and Israel’s military response in Gaza since.

The International Court of Justice issued a nonbinding ruling that Israel Apartheid State is breaching international law by illegally occupying Palestinian territory in East Jerusalem, West Bank, and Gaza.

This come on the heels of the Knesset in Israel voting to reject recognition for a Palestinian state.

See Also:

Sky News: ICJ rules Israel settlement policy in occupied Palestinian territories in breach of international law

[girlactionfigure]

is Zionism...European?

SEPTEMBER 26, 2024

Please note: this post is specifically about the modern Zionist political movement that began in the 19th century. That said, Jews in the Middle East and North Africa have been at the very forefront of the Jewish fight for sovereignty in our ancestral homeland for over 2000 years. For a more in-depth look at that, please see my post "Zionism Before Zionism."

THE ISSUE

Anti-Zionists often claim Zionism is a European movement. While it’s certainly true that the World Zionist Organization was founded in Europe, and while it’s true that most prominent early Zionist leaders resided in Europe, Jews residing in the Middle East and North Africa were involved in Zionist political activism from the very outset.

A few things to keep in mind when considering the role that Mizrahi and Sephardic Jews played in early Zionist political activism: 

While early on the Soviet Union — and later, Nazi Germany — criminalized Zionism, Jews in Europe generally could participate freely in Zionist activism without legal, social, or economic repercussions. On the other hand, Zionism was quickly outlawed in most of the Middle East. This meant that many Jews in the Middle East and North Africa stayed away from the movement out of fear for their safety.

The idea that Mizrahi and Sephardic Jews had no interest in Jewish sovereignty and instead were duped by “European” Jews into migrating to Israel is racist and orientalist. Mizrahi and Sephardic Jews are just as capable of critical thought as anyone else, and they had as much of an interest and stake in their political autonomy as Ashkenazi Jews did.

The erasure of Mizrahi and Sephardic Zionist history is just another instance of the systematic erasure of the history and existence of Mizrahim and Sepharadim. You cannot adequately tell the Jewish story in its entirety while erasing the story of the Jews in the Middle East.

FIRST, WHAT DO I MEAN BY ZIONISM?

Zionism is the Jewish movement for self-determination in the Land of Israel, the ancestral homeland of the Jewish people. Today, in practical terms, Zionism is support for the existence of the State of Israel. Self-determination is the concept that peoples who share a national identity — not to be confused with nationality — have a legal right to choose their own governance, rather than being forced into living under the thumb of an empire. Self-determination is a basic tenet of international law, applicable to everyone.

In 1897, Jewish delegates from across the world met for the First Zionist Congress. There, they defined Zionism in simple terms: “Zionism seeks to establish a home for the Jewish people in Eretz ­Israel [the Land of Israel] secured under public law.” That’s it. Beyond that, people who identify as Zionist don’t necessarily agree on anything else.

MANDATE PALESTINE

While there were strong tensions between the pre-existing Jewish community in Palestine (known now as the Old Yishuv) and the newer Zionist immigrants (known as the New Yishuv), the leaders of the Old Yishuv were supportive of a sovereign, Jewish national home. For instance, Yaakov Meir spoke fluent Hebrew and encouraged the construction of new Jewish Quarters in Jerusalem. He also eagerly supported the re-establishment of an independent Jewish Israeli nation.

At the 1921 Cairo Conference, the Jewish National Council of Palestine, which represented the interests of the “Palestinian” Jews, thanked the British for supporting "the rebuilding of the Jewish National Home" (for more on how the British betrayed Zionism, see my post, “The British”) and asked that in doing so, Jews did not deprive Arabs “of their legitimate rights.” They also applauded the new Zionist immigrants for their accomplishments in the last 40 years, such as the cultivation of the land, which had undergone desertification after centuries of colonial mismanagement. 

Even the most isolated and ancient Jewish community in Palestine, the Musta’arabi Jews of Peki’in, who had lived in the Galilee continuously since the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE, formed relationships with the Zionist movement, when, in 1922, a young Zionist activist and historian named Yitzhak Ben Zvi connected with the tiny community. Ben Zvi later became the second president of Israel.

After the 1929 antisemitic massacres, which targeted not the new Zionist immigrants but the oldest Jewish communities in Palestine, virtually all Jews in Mandatory Palestine united under the Zionist cause, with many of them joining the Jewish paramilitaries Haganah and Irgun. In 1947, a representative of the Old Yishuv, Eliahu Eliachar, testified before the United Nations, passionately arguing in favor of the establishment of a sovereign Jewish state in Palestine.

LEBANON

In the early 20th century, the Jewish community in Lebanon was widely sympathetic to the Zionist cause, so much so that the Jewish leadership in Beirut aligned themselves with the Zionist B’nai B’rith organization.The Jewish community in Lebanon and the Yishuv in Palestine maintained constant contact. Zionist sentiment was promoted in the Lebanese Jewish education system. Some influential Lebanese Jewish Zionist figures included Joseph Azar and Joseph Farhi.  Nevertheless, the French authorities strongly discouraged Zionist activism, seeing it as a threat to their colonial rule. The 1929 Hebron Massacre in Mandatory Palestine, however, drastically shifted the attitudes of the Lebanese Jewish community,which became afraid of openly identifying with Zionism, especially after the virulently antisemitic Grand Mufti of Jerusalem, Haj Amin al-Husseini, was expelled from Mandatory Palestine and began disseminating his hateful propaganda among the Lebanese Arab population.  “Before the disturbance of August 1929 the Jews...of Lebanon manifested much sympathy for the Zionist cause and worked actively for the sake of Palestine. They had established associations which collected money for Keren Kayemeth and Keren Heyesod…[After 1929, the Jews] started to fear from anything having any connection with Zionism and ceased to hold meetings and collect money,” Azar noted. “[The Jewish Communal Council in Beirut] endeavored to prevent anything having a Jewish national aspect because they feared that this might wound the feelings of the Muslims."

IRAQ

In the 1920s, the Jews of Iraq were generally sympathetic toward Zionism, though few were actively involved in the movement. In 1921, the British granted a permit to the Zionist organization in Baghdad, though the Iraqi government did not renew it the following year. Zionist activism in Iraq was tolerated until 1929, after which Zionist meetings were banned and Hebrew and Jewish history teachers from Mandatory Palestine were expelled from Iraq. In 1935, Iraq outlawed Zionism.

After the 1941 Nazi-inspired Farhud pogrom, the Jewish community in Iraq, led by Zionist activists, began organizing and forming self-defense groups. Iraqi Jewish Zionist activists established contacts with their counterparts in Mandatory Palestine, and later, in the State of Israel. In 1942, the Yishuv started sending Zionist emissaries to Iraq.

The Zionist movement in Iraq tended to appeal to the younger generation more than the older generation, though up until 1948, direct involvement with the movement was rare. Many chose not to affiliate with Zionism not for ideological reasons, but rather, because such an affiliation could wreck their social, political, and economic status.

In 1947, a representative of the Iraqi Jewish community, by the name of Mr. Sassoon, testified before the United Nations on behalf of the Zionist movement in favor of the establishment of a Jewish state in Palestine.

SYRIA

Syrian Jews began organizing for the Zionist cause in Damascus as early as the late 19th century. However, the movement weakened thanks to internal disputes and the French occupation of Syria, as the French authorities were hostile to Zionism, which they worried would threaten their domain over Syria.

Though Jewish community leaders in Syria often had to publicly disavow Zionism for the safety of the Jewish population, sympathy toward the Zionist cause grew among the Syrian Jews in the 1930s, especially in light of economic hardships, growing resentment of the Arab population toward the Jews, and the Zionist movement’s successes. “It was only in the mid-to-late 1930s that Zionism began to grow in Aleppo -– although not to flourish. Zionist-influenced sports and cultural activities on a small scale began then, manifested by the ‘Maccabi Football (soccer) Club’ and small Zionist discussion groups,” according to historian Joseph Sutton.

In September 1933, the head of the Committee of the World Federation of Sephardi Jews in Aleppo, Meir Nahmad, wrote to complain that the Jewish Agency had not provided immigration certificates to Aleppo’s Jews, given “Nearly everyone has the desire to travel to Palestine.” By 1936, it was reported that most of the Jewish youth in Aleppo had adopted the Zionist cause.

While many Syrian Jews were indifferent to Arab nationalist aspirations, others supported both Zionism and Arab nationalism, believing that both movements could be reconciled.

EGYPT

Though not all Egyptian Jews were initially on board with Zionism,Egypt still produced some important Zionist figures, such as Egyptian Karaite Jewish scholar Mourad Farag, who identified both as an Egyptian nationalist and as a Zionist. In 1923, Farag wrote “al-Qudsiyyat” (“Jerusalemica”), arguably the most passionate defense of Zionism in the Arabic language. 

In 1926, the Cairo Jewish Council sympathetically acknowledged the establishment of a Zionist organization in Alexandria, though 15 years later, the same council wrote a letter complaining of Zionist activity. As was the case in other countries in the Middle East, as more of the Egyptian general population became hostile to Zionism, the Jewish community sought to distance itself from it more for their safety.

Zionist activity in Egypt reached its peak in the 1930s, with the establishment of the Ha-Shomer Ha-Tza‘ir youth organization. Up until 1947, Egypt and Palestine had open borders, meaning that both Jewish communities maintained strong relations. Egyptian Jews invested heavily into the Yishuv in Palestine. Some Egyptian Jews that contributed to the development of the Yishuv included Baron Felix de Menasce, head of the community in Alexandria, who had a close relationship with Chaim Weizmann, and Albert Mosseri. In 1918, de Menasce had founded the “Pro-Palestine Organization: Committee for Reform of the Land of Israel” in Alexandria. After the 1929 Hebron Massacre, de Menasce even tried to purchase the Western Wall on behalf of the Zionist movement.

YEMEN

n 1882, a mass migration of Yemenite Jews to the Land of Israel coincided with the First (modern Zionist) Aliyah. In 1982, a century later, renowned Yemenite rabbi Rabbi Yosef Qafiḥ explained his community’s views toward Zionism to the Israeli Knesset: “The concept of ‘Zionism’ has been invoked here several times. In Yemen, this concept did not exist as the name of a movement or a distinct internal group. The Diaspora throughout Yemen was there on a temporary basis...Aliyah [immigration to the Land of Israel] naturally continued in a normal, organic fashion, because everyone was a candidate; everyone waited for the right moment, for the removal of his particular barriers.”

In other words, in Yemen, there was no need for a distinct “Zionist” movement, because the concept of Zionism was embedded into the very Jewish identity of the community.

Nevertheless, once in the Land of Israel, many Yemenite Jewish women, in particular, identified strongly with the movement, particularly given the egalitarian ideals of the New Yishuv.

NORTH AFRICA

North African Jewish communities expressed interest in Zionism as early as the First Zionist Congress. On November 8, 1897, for example, the Jewish Chronicle reported, “The Jews of Morocco watch with interest the progress of the proceedings [of the Zionist Congress]. All Jews may not be in agreement with items of the Congress program, but it seems natural, from some Moroccan-Jewish points of view, that they should all sympathize with the spirit of the thing...” The first Zionist organization appeared in Morocco in 1900. After the San Remo Conference and the issuing of the Balfour Declaration, Moroccan Jewish Zionist activists sought to establish contacts with Zionist figures in Europe and Palestine.

A big obstacle for the Zionist Jews in Morocco was the hostility of the French and Spanish authorities, which often shut down Zionist organizations, as well as the hostility that the general Muslim population felt toward Zionism. Even so, by 1946, it was reported that the Moroccan Jewish community had donated 1,200,000 francs to the Jewish National Fund. 

During the first several Zionist Congresses, the Tunisian Jewish community sent congratulatory telegrams. Some early Zionist figures in Tunisia included Gabriel Allouche, Jacques Shalom, Alfred Allouche, Jules Bonan, and Jacques Vehel. The first Zionist organization in Tunis, Agudat-Zion, was established in 1911. In Tunisia, the mainstream strain of Zionism at the time -- Labor Zionism -- was deeply unpopular, due to its socialist and secular tendencies, and most were drawn instead to Jabotinsky’s Revisionist Zionism. That said, some, like Albert Memmi, who later became a famous anti-imperialist writer, joined Hashomer Hatzair, the Labor Zionist youth organization.

Of all Jewish communities in North Africa, the Algerian community was the least interested in Zionism, likely because of their rapid assimilation into French society. That said, as early as 1897, a small Zionist group in Algeria endorsed the idea of Zionism.

CENTRAL ASIA

The city of Baku, Azerbaijan became a stronghold of Zionist activism even before the First Zionist Congress in 1897. In fact, the proto-Zionist organization, Hovovei Zion, translating to “Lovers of Zion,” had established a branch in Baku in 1891.

The First Zionist Congress, held in Basel, Switzerland, in 1897, saw representatives from the Azeri Mountain Jewish and the Georgian Jewish communities. The Mountain Jewish community also sent delegates to the Fourth and Sixth Zionist Congresses. Despite the fact that Zionist activities were heavily monitored by the Russian authorities, the Mountain Jewish community held various fundraising events for the Zionist cause.

At the 1919 Third Zionist Congress of the Caucasus, one of the items on the agenda was a discussion on the desire of 12,000 Mountain Jews to immediately migrate to Palestine. Zionist activity in Azerbaijan reached its peak between 1918-1920, after which the Soviets outlawed it entirely.

SO...IS ZIONISM EUROPEAN?

It would be insincere to argue that Zionism, as a political movement, did not have cultural influences from Europe. Labor Zionism, for example, was deeply influenced by the socialist movement rising in popularity in Europe in the early 20th century. But the premise of Zionism, at its core -- that Jews have a legal right to self-determine in the Land of Israel -- is not of European origin in the slightest. Modern political Zionism was a political movement rooted in over 2000 years of tradition originating from the Middle East. In fact, the term “Zionism” itself comes from the Return to Zion, an event that occurred in Jerusalem and Babylon in 539 BCE, long before there were ever any Jews in Europe.

For over 2000 years, Jews continuously tried to reassert their autonomy in Eretz Israel. These efforts were started by different Jewish sub-groups; for example, in 614, Persian Jews led a campaign for Jewish autonomy in Jerusalem, a campaign which the Jews living in the Land of Israel welcomed and eventually joined. To reiterate, the desire for Jewish sovereignty in Israel is not a European political philosophy or ideology. It’s a Jewish aspiration at its core, one that comes from the Land of Israel itself. In the world that we live in, ideological cross-pollination, so to speak, is inevitable. Many, many independence movements in the Americas and Africa found inspiration in European events and ideologies, such as the French Revolution or communism.

It’s also important to note that Jews in Europe, up until that point, were considered “foreign” to Europe. They were not considered culturally or “racially” European, and thus, any Jewish political movement wasn’t working on “behalf” of Europe, either. It’s also important not to delegitimize the historical claim that Jews have to the Land of Israel, regardless of where they spent their Diaspora experience.

For a full bibliography of my sources, please head over to my Instagram and  Patreon. 

rootsmetals

debunking bs like it’s my job 😎 (it is) I guess the latest delulu libel is that Mizrahim and Sepharadim preferred Palestinian Arab nationalism over Zionism until the bad evil Ashkenazim duped them into becoming Zionists? No facts, just vibes!

[read-marx-and-lenin]

Not that one poster but I think the revolution will kill thousands of people because that's historically what has happened in every revolution. Even in Palestine you can see civilians and children being killed for daring to revolt, and the disabled also get left behind to die with no accessible medications or hospitals as they've all been bombed. I don't see a way it could work without this happening though so it ends up being a "Some of you may die but that's a price I'm willing to pay", which... Isn't that different from the other side who's also willing to let others die for their ideology.

Source: https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.aljazeera.com/amp/news/2023/10/27/people-with-disabilities-not-spared-from-israels-war-machine-on-gaza-strip

I wasn't trying to argue that in a revolution, nobody would possibly die. I was trying to figure out why, in that person's mind, the two options seem to be "vote for Kamala" or "tens of millions of people die in a four year long revolutionary bloodbath".

Besides, as was already pointed out, people are already dying under capitalism and imperialism and colonialism. The people of Palestine did not fight back for no good reason, they fought back because they were dying at the hands of the Israeli occupation.

I don't think in the United States specifically we're going to suddenly have mass support for revolutionary socialism in the next four years, but for the same reasons, I don't think Trump is going to be able to magically install a fascist dictatorship by virtue of winning another term.

The conditions that provide opportunities for fascists also provide opportunities for socialists. We are in a minor economic downturn at the moment for sure. Prices are going up, wages are still stagnating, lots of people are having to stretch their budgets. But that's ordinary. We have people dying because they can't afford healthcare, and that's horrific, but it's also mundane. It will take an extraordinary economic crisis to push this country onto the brink, and yet such a crisis is inevitable due to the internal contradictions of capitalism.

The relative comfort and stability that the average US citizen experiences is by virtue of the massive poverty and instability that is inflicted on the average person elsewhere in the world. Capitalism and imperialism siphon wealth and labor from the third world and concentrate it in the first world, and any attempts by the masses in the third world to achieve prosperity and security will necessarily disrupt this process. These tensions will inevitably lead to economic collapse within the US and other first world imperialist nations, and this will happen sooner rather than later. Not four years soon, but I would not be surprised if it happened within the next fifty years.

We are not living in a time of peace that a bunch of insane radical leftists are threatening to upend for the sake of ideological purity. We are living in a time where the contradictions of capitalism are once again coming to a head. We are on the brink of another world war. The victory of capitalist counter-revolutionaries in the last century came at the cost of "tens of millions" of lives. Tolerating the imperialist warmongering of US politicians is inexcusable if we are supposed to care about people's lives.

When Kamala Harris brags about the United States having "the most lethal army in the world", she means it. She is more than willing to sacrifice millions of lives on the altar of US hegemony and US control over other nations. The bourgeoisie know full well what is coming and they are already preparing for it. The best time for us to organize was yesterday, and the second best time is today. The Democrats are the enemies of peace and freedom just as much as the Republicans are, and we should not waste our time acting like the former aren't just as eager and willing to throw the rest of us under the bus as the latter are.

[darkmaga-returns]

The alleged manifesto of Matt Livelsberger, the former Green Beret who drove a Tesla Cybertruck loaded with explosives to Trump International Hotel Las Vegas on New Year’s Day, has surfaced. Details of the manifesto, which was reportedly sent via email to intelligence analyst and social media figure Sam Shoemate, were revealed during a recent episode of the Shawn Ryan Show, a widely followed podcast hosted by former Navy SEAL Shawn Ryan.

Described as both dramatic and cryptic, the manifesto contained Livelsberger’s bold declaration: “What I’m going to send you is going to change the course of humanity.” The email, sent just days before the incident, outlines alleged covert military operations, advanced drone technologies, and purported war crimes in Afghanistan. Livelsberger’s actions and motivations have since become a focal point of national security discussions, with some raising questions about the implications of his claims.

According to the podcast, Livelsberger’s manifesto described what he called “gravitic propulsion systems” used in unmanned aircraft, a term that Ryan and Shoemate both noted is typically associated with science fiction. Livelsberger alleged that both the United States and China have operational capabilities in these technologies, which he described as the most significant national security threat in history. He claimed China had been deploying these advanced drones from submarines along the East Coast, likening their capabilities to a “checkmate” scenario against the U.S.

The manifesto also pointed to Livelsberger’s involvement in an alleged cover-up of civilian casualties during airstrikes in Afghanistan in 2019. He claimed the strikes, which targeted suspected drug facilities, resulted in the deaths of hundreds of civilians, including women and children, and were later concealed by the U.S. government. Livelsberger’s email reportedly called for transparency, warning that the secrecy surrounding these events could escalate global tensions and potentially lead to a world war.

[whencyclopedia]

Alien and Sedition Acts

The Alien and Sedition Acts were four laws passed by President John Adams and the Federalist-controlled Congress in 1798 that restricted immigration and free speech in the United States. Framed by the Federalist Party as a necessary measure to protect national security during the Quasi-War (1798-1800), the acts were deeply controversial and were challenged as being unconstitutional.

The acts were passed in response to heightening tensions between the United States and Revolutionary France in the aftermath of the XYZ Affair. Concerned by the recent influx of French and Irish émigrés, whose loyalties were considered questionable, the Federalist Party enacted three 'alien' acts during the summer of 1798. The first was the Naturalization Act, which increased the amount of time an immigrant must live in the United States before being eligible for citizenship from 5 to 14 years. Next came the Alien Friends Act, which allowed the president to deport any non-citizen he deemed to be a threat to national security. This was supplemented by the Alien Enemies Act, in which non-citizens hailing from a country at war with the United States could arbitrarily be detained or deported; the Enemies Act remains in effect today and has been invoked several times, most notably during the world wars of the 20th century. Finally, the Sedition Act criminalized the printing of material considered to be "false, scandalous, or malicious" about the president or the US government.

The Alien and Sedition Acts caused a major uproar, with members of the Democratic-Republican Party (Jeffersonian Democrats) condemning them as unconstitutional. Although no one ended up being arrested or deported under the Alien Acts, several people were arrested, tried, and convicted under the Sedition Act, accused of printing material critical of the Federalist-controlled government. Vice President Thomas Jefferson, leader of the opposition, denounced this as a clear violation of the First Amendment of the US Constitution, which guarantees freedom of speech and press. The backlash against the Alien and Sedition Acts helped Jefferson win the presidency during the election of 1800 and forever stained the reputation of the Federalists, who would never again win the presidency or enjoy the heights of power they had achieved in 1798.

Background

By the late 1790s, the United States was experiencing a deep partisan rift. The nationalist Federalist Party championed a strong national government, big banks, and a build-up of the American military. In international affairs, Federalists tended to support Great Britain, which they regarded as a natural ally to the US and condemned the radicalism of the concurrent French Revolution (1789-1799). Their rival Democratic-Republican Party (Jeffersonian Democrats), by contrast, emerged in favor of decentralized government and republicanism and denounced the Federalists as too aristocratic. They supported the French Republic and rejected the influence of Britain, which they feared would only lead to a re-emergence of monarchism in the United States. Despite President George Washington's Farewell Address, in which he warned against such partisanship, the divide between the two factions had only widened since Washington left office in March 1797. By the start of John Adams' presidency, each party viewed the other as an existential threat to the country.

President Adams was a Federalist, the only member of that party to ever occupy the presidency. But he was not as radical as the Hamiltonian wing of the party and was not as averse to dealing with France as some of his party may have been. This was significant since, at the time Adams was inaugurated in March 1797, the United States and Revolutionary France were on the brink of war. The French Republic was already at war with Britain and had interpreted the signing of the Jay Treaty – a controversial commercial agreement between the US and Britain – as a British-American alliance. In retaliation, French privateers began attacking neutral American shipping in late 1796, arguing that any American ship carrying British cargo was liable to be seized as a valid prize. Within a year, French privateers had captured nearly 300 American ships and had mistreated their crews. While many Federalists clamored for war, President Adams preferred negotiation. In the autumn of 1797, he dispatched three envoys to Paris – John Marshall, Elbridge Gerry, and Charles Cotesworth Pinckney – to assert American neutrality in the ongoing French Revolutionary Wars and to hopefully restore relations between the US and France.

This diplomatic mission failed. In an incident known as the XYZ Affair, French agents refused to open negotiations unless the United States agreed to pay a large bribe, resorting to thinly veiled threats once the American envoys resisted the notion. On 5 March 1798, President Adams told Congress that negotiations had failed and, shortly thereafter, requested a build-up of the American army and navy. The aging former President Washington was pulled out of his retirement at Mount Vernon and named commander-in-chief of the American army, which was being organized by the Federalist leader Alexander Hamilton. American and French frigates clashed on the high seas; although this conflict, the Quasi-War, never wound up escalating beyond limited naval skirmishes, for a time it seemed as though France and the United States were on the brink of a major war.

Naval Battle during the Quasi-War, between USS Constellation and L'Insurgente

John William Schmidt (Public Domain)

In the months after the details of the XYZ Affair were published, the American public were firmly behind the Federalists; Adams reached the height of his popularity in mid-1798, allowing him and the Federalists to begin their military build-up program practically unimpeded. The blatant disrespectful behavior of the French agents left the Democratic-Republicans with little ammunition, giving them little recourse but to stand to the side and announce that the country was making a bad decision by going to war with France. This was the context – deep partisan rivalry and the looming threat of war – that led Adams and the Federalists to create the Alien and Sedition Acts, policies that ultimately helped lead to the decline of the Federalist Party itself.

Continue reading...

[athena5898]

Beirut (Quds News Network)- France, Italy, and Spain have strongly condemned recent Israeli attacks on UN peacekeepers in Lebanon, labeling them “unjustifiable” and in violation of international law. This follows two consecutive explosions near the Lebanese-Palestinian border, which injured several members of the UN Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL). The attacks have sparked concern over the increasing risks to UN personnel as tensions between Israel and Hezbollah escalate. In a joint statement, the three European nations expressed outrage, demanding an immediate halt to the violence. “These attacks constitute a serious violation of Israel’s obligations under UN Security Council Resolution 1701 and international humanitarian law,” the statement read. The nations also called for increased protection for peacekeepers and urged both sides to de-escalate the situation. France, which contributes around 700 troops to UNIFIL, has been particularly vocal in its criticism. French President Emmanuel Macron summoned Israel’s envoy and demanded an explanation, emphasizing that the targeting of UN peacekeepers is “absolutely unacceptable.” Macron further proposed halting arms exports to Israel as a means to curb the violence, suggesting that stopping the flow of weapons could help prevent further escalation. Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez echoed Macron’s call, urging the international community to cease selling arms to Israel. Following a meeting with Pope Francis at the Vatican, Sanchez stated, “It is urgent that we stop contributing to the violence by supplying weapons to Israel.” Sanchez has been one of the most outspoken European leaders against Israel’s recent military offensives, which he described as an “invasion” of Lebanon. Both Macron and Sanchez’s remarks have drawn sharp criticism from Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, who defended Israel’s military actions as necessary for self-defense. As the conflict intensifies, international leaders are increasingly pressing for diplomatic solutions to prevent further casualties.

https://qudsnen.co/?p=49148

[artmindlens]

Woman with a Parasol by Claude Monet (1875), National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

Psychology of Authority and Autonomy

In this painting, the elevated figure of the mother becomes a symbol of established authority. The parasol she holds acts as a protective barrier, shielding her from the vast sky—a classical representation of paternal authority. The child (the observer), positioned below and gazing upward, is caught between these two forces: the maternal (gaze) and the paternal (sky). The child in the painting serves as a mirror for the observer, drawing them back into their own childhood, as though the painting itself reflects and reconnects them to that formative time. The parasol, while symbolic of nurturing, also prevents the child from accessing the sunlight, which represents the full wholeness and validation often sought in life. This nuanced dynamic evokes the Oedipal complex, where a leader, much like the child, is motivated to achieve authority but continually feels a subtle disconnection from true paternal validation, no matter how close they come.

For a leader, this reflects an unconscious drive to succeed and seek wholeness through external validation. Yet, much like the child under the parasol, this wholeness remains elusive, leading to a constant tension between desire and authority. It hints at a deep internal conflict, where the leader is constantly striving for a sense of completion, but finds the path obscured by boundaries formed in early life, leaving them perpetually seeking but never fully satisfied.

The Sky as a Symbol of Ambition and External Pressure

The expansive sky represents more than just a background; it embodies societal expectations, market forces, and regulatory pressures that loom over the figures below. The absence of the sun, which would traditionally bring warmth and completeness, further emphasises a sense of stunted development, as if growth has been halted or interrupted, leaving a lingering feeling of incompleteness or stagnation. The leader who resonates with this painting might feel the weight of these external forces, continually striving to balance their personal ambition with societal demands. The parasol symbolises the temporary shields leaders erect to navigate these overwhelming expectations, but its fragility suggests that this protection cannot last forever.

For someone displaying this painting in their space, it symbolises a powerful psychological message: success and authority often come with an unrelenting pressure from above, and despite the shields we build, external forces inevitably shape our trajectory. This painting reflects the subtle battle between the desire for recognition and the weight of societal judgment, creating a space for reflection on how these pressures affect one's leadership style and strategic vision.

The Unconscious Desire for Control and Completion

The child, firmly grounded but gazing upwards, embodies the tension between instinctive desires and the unattainable completeness found in authority and control. The maternal figure, while protective, acts as a barrier preventing the child from attaining paternal validation. The parasol acts as a shield from the sunlight in the painting, with the sun symbolising paternal approval. It creates a barrier, preventing the figure from fully receiving the warmth and validation associated with the father’s presence. Leaders, like the child, may be driven by the unconscious desire to merge personal ambition with external validation, but they remain trapped in the cycle of pursuing authority without ever achieving the emotional wholeness they seek.

This painting powerfully reflects a psychological narrative that can play out in corporate and financial leadership. The persistent striving for success can often feel like chasing something elusive—external validation, whether through financial gains, public recognition, or authority—yet never fully feeling secure in that success. The parasol's role as a boundary reminds us that even when protection is present, it also creates distance, leaving the individual feeling both supported and isolated.

Leadership and the Pursuit of Validation

In this context, the painting speaks to leaders who find themselves in a perpetual state of striving—seeking approval from markets, superiors, and external forces, but feeling that something is always just out of reach. The absence of the sun reinforces this theme of incompleteness, suggesting that even at the peak of success, leaders may feel that their efforts lack the full validation they subconsciously desire. The child’s gaze toward the mother symbolizes the emotional tug of seeking nurturing and control, but ultimately being left in a state of wanting, never fully satisfied.

For a collector or executive drawn to this painting, it is a reminder of the psychological tensions inherent in leadership—balancing ambition, authority, and the perpetual quest for recognition. This artwork speaks to the unconscious desire to bridge the gap between personal achievement and external approval, while subtly reflecting on the costs of never fully attaining that sense of wholeness.

[slotumn]

Take:

Rhea and the Central Church's problem isn't that they're the stereotypical unhinged religious zealots calling to kill heretics at the drop of a hat, it's that they're the establishment who have become impotent, complacent, avoidant, and more concerned with appearances than action. Rhea and the Central Church's failure wasn't them being "too ruthless," or "going overboard," it was actually being too soft and passive and doing too little too late in matters where it's literally their responsibility to act.

For more specific examples, Rhea gets accused of being excessive wrt Western Church and Imperial troops at Holy Tomb— but my take is that the real problem wasn't her being ruthless, it's that she didn't do it earlier when it really mattered.

Some of those "earlier" within recent years of canon include: attempted assassination on Rhea a few years back, guy with connections to imperial family (Volkhard) who used to be a big donor to the Church suddenly changing his attitude overnight after fucking around in a rival nation, Western Church becoming radicalized heretics. If Rhea channeled her Saint Seiros days and got pissed and cutthroat about those things and made the Church take major action over it as soon as it came onto radar, they probably wouldn't have gotten played as hard by the Slithers as they did.

You can't even call the Church investigating those overreaching into the nations' internal affairs or anything; "why was a Kingdom noble involved in a plot to assassinate the archbishop" or "why is a branch of our Church getting into heresy" or "why the hell are some people claiming Central Church was behind Tragedy of Duscur" are all perfectly fair matters for them to look into. And if an in-law of the Adrestian imperial house stayed in the capital of a rival nation for a year doing god knows what for undisclosed reasons, then I think he's hardly in a position to accuse the Church of being weird if they prod at him and go "hey it's been a while what have you been up to lately."

Yet the Church seemingly didn't investigate those in depth/honestly confront the parties involved, and even covered up the truth in the case of the Christophe incident. The motivation there was that they wanted to keep up the appearance that the Church is Doing Totally Fine™ and that the public can trust them to be Reliable And Normal™ even in times of turmoil— which really just seems to mean that they want to avoid admitting and reviewing their own fuck ups, or having visible conflicts/tensions with other major factions/within themselves for the sake of PR. And this eventually bites them in the ass because some of those other factions do not reciprocate this conflict avoidant attitude, not to mention that covering up the symptoms doesn't get rid of the problem.

All that to keep up appearances, and ultimately the result is Western Church and Empire seeing them as easy targets and being proven right about it. If you actually stop and think about the implications of Central Church having what should be very high security places (Holy Tomb and Mausoleum) in their home bases infiltrated and terrorized twice in one year, Rhea's personal reaction after it happens is basically the least of all the problems there.

So yeah the Central Church has decayed complacent impotent stupid establishment syndrome, not volatile crazy fanatics syndrome. And Rhea, at the time of canon as the Church's leader, has the problem of being fatally avoidant and thumb-twiddling until things get to the point some scary yelling isn't going to fix the situation, not being an aggressive control freak. (Again I think she would have been a better in-universe leader if she was proactively controlling shit at the time of canon instead of waiting for Sothis to come back and fix everything!)

The reason why I'm being pedantic about this is bc there are multiple ways religions and religious institutions can fail, and I think the fact Central Church's failure isn't them being the stereotypical unhinged fanatics actually makes things way more interesting— especially when contrasted with the fact that there are the actual unhinged fanatics in-universe (Western Church), and those guys hate the Central Church.

Also imo most everything I've diagnosed here still applies post-timeskip in CF— the Church is never proactive in a way that matters, and their final lashing out in Fhirdiad was never going to be enough to make up for their inaction before. They had a whole country on their side for five years and apparently they didn't do much with that, after the Empire already declared war on them. Hell, the Empire even takes a detour conquering the Alliance and they're just sitting there. Like damn Rhea if you were actually serious about winning the war then you should have been cultivating insurgents to send into Adrestia and burn Enbarr. Not sitting around in Faerghus then burning Fhirdiad at the last minute.

Tl;dr

Broke: Church Evil

Woke: Church Stupid

[quackity1999]

Thank you for accepting my Application Mr President! I won't let you down! (← there is a 67% chance of them doing something dumb)

Is there anything I should prepare for an interview or practical? Also I'm all set with the time sheets :D!

-🎇

as a member of the las nevadas security department, you are heavily entrusted with maintaining the safety, integrity, and prosperity of the nation— obviously.

to ensure the highest standard of conduct, all employees are subject to the following requirements:

background checks; we gotta assess any history of criminal activity, affiliations with hostile factions, & potential conflicts of interest. we do not endorse any actions that threaten any of my staff, citizens, or business partnerships / assets of las nevadas.

furthermore, any possible behavior that undermines leadership, sabotages operations, or spreads malicious rumors are grounds for immediate disqualification or termination.

this goes for all positions, honestly.

you can't work here if you hold personal vendettas or grievances against current employees or residents of my nation. i have to be able to trust who i employ. that's non-negotiable.

but for security specifically: all personnel are prohibited from engaging in disputes with other nations / factions unless explicitly authorized by me. you gotta prioritize diplomatic solutions, see? we don't need escalating tensions. rigging games, tampering with the casino, or partaking in unauthorized activities (smuggling, possession of explosive materials) will not be tolerated.

you'd have to send in logs and reports to department managers/heads in relation to external issues or internal, since i encourage the idea of maintaining updates— or at least a good level of communication. staff on the security team are expected to protect citizens, tourists, and infrastructure while upholding the laws and values of las nevadas.

but what i want to know: would you prefer to be stationed at the borders of las nevadas and patrol it hourly, or take on a more social aspect and guard the casino and / or other buildings?