#nothing says i love you like a capital crime

[glittergroovy]

Where Are My Fucking Pills? - Death Spells

[moonstruckme]

hey sooooo I have a fic request for u babe! What about reader with Remus and it's like the first time she's sleeping over and she unexpectedly gets her period and she's like sorry I ruined our night I can go home and Remus is just like what?? No stay and just him soothing her through the cramps

Thank you for your request ml!

cw: period pains, mention of blood, brief allusion to mdni activities (though they truly could just have been making out if you want)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 960 words

It’s rare, this early in your relationship, that you and Remus can sit down to watch a film and actually watch it. But it seems you’re both thoroughly spent from partaking in those other activities so frequently during the day, and now you’re both just winding down for the night, waiting to see who will admit to wanting to go to bed first. 

Remus is just as content with this, your arm pressed against his and your head heavy on his shoulder, feeling your ribs expand and contract with relaxed breaths. He could get used to having you here. It’s taking more restraint than he could have imagined to keep himself from just offering you his spare key and begging you to come and go as you please. 

“Oh, shit.” 

It’s a whisper, not particularly alarmed, but the way your muscles go stiff tells Remus it’s not nothing. You sit up, taking your weight off of him. 

“What is it?” he asks. 

You don’t answer him at first, squeezing your eyes shut. Your expression is one of unmistakable mortification. You look agonized. Remus tries to let you have the time you need to think, but a worm of unease eats further into his gut with every second of your silence. 

You push out an exhale that sounds laborious. When you open your eyes, there’s enough apology in them for a capital crime. Remus thinks that he’d probably forgive you if you told him you’d committed murder (and maybe that should scare him more than it does). 

“I think I’ve just stained your couch,” you admit. 

“Okay,” he says slowly. He doesn’t see the cause for such distress, but he also isn’t sure what you’re talking about. You’re not holding a drink, so how could you…oh. “Oh, is that all?” 

His nonplussed reaction doesn’t seem to affect your unease. “I’m so sorry,” you say, wincing. 

Remus tuts. “Don’t be, you can’t help it. Do you have anything with you, or do I need to nip to the store?” 

“I’ve got stuff.” You stand to get your bag, turning to grimace at where you’d been sitting on the couch. 

Remus’ reaction skews in the opposite direction. It’s only a splotch; by your response he’d been half convinced you were sitting in a veritable puddle of blood. 

“I’m so sorry,” you say again. “I’ll be right back.” 

“You’re alright, love,” Remus promises you. “Take whatever time you need.” 

While you’re in the bathroom, he addresses the stain. Truly, it’s no great hassle. With friends like his it’s hardly the first trial his couch has faced, and besides that Remus has an unusual amount of experience with getting blood out of things. 

It’s soaking when you come back, a small rag covering the spot from your view. You’ve changed into your pajamas, presumably because you’d stained your pants as well, but this is far from an unwelcome development. You look terribly cuddly. 

“You alright?” Remus asks as you come back to stand by the couch. 

“Yeah,” you say, somewhat quietly. You seem suddenly timid, like a guest in his home. He wants to hug you. 

“Does it hurt?” he presses. 

Your mouth pulls to the side, which is answer enough. “A little. It’s been hurting for a while, I just didn’t recognize it for what it was. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting it this early.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” He reaches for you, hiding his disappointment when you only put your hand in his. “That’s not a very nice surprise, is it?” 

“No,” you agree with a halfhearted smile. When Remus squeezes your fingers, you squeeze back, and you at least seem up to holding his gaze even if you still look sheepish. “I’m sorry to ruin our night. I can go home.” 

“What?” A bit of hurt bullies its way into Remus’ tone. Your expression changes like you’re surprised to hear it. “No, I think you should stay.” 

You look hesitant, so he tries again, gentler this time. 

“I mean, if you’re hurting and you want to be in your own home, I understand,” Remus says, “but I hope you’re not leaving on my account. I’d like for you to be here.” 

You watch his face as though looking for discrepancies. “Really?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he says earnestly. “Of course I’d love to keep you. Getting your period doesn’t change anything, except that now you’re in pain and I’d like even more for you to stay so I can be with you.” 

The muscles around your eyes relax, your expression softening into something so tender Remus feels his own heart turn to mush. 

He gives your hand a little tug, and you take the cue, sitting back down on the couch between his open legs. 

“Can I put my hand here?” he asks you, touching your stomach. 

“Sure,” you say, still somewhat timidly. You take his hand in yours, moving it down a couple inches until his fingers are skimming the soft fabric of your pajama bottoms. “But it’s more like here.” 

“Oh, okay. Can I put my hand there?” 

With your nod, Remus slips his hand beneath your waistband, to that plush stretch of skin between your belly button and your panty line. He presses down gently. 

“Oh.” Your body goes lax. 

Remus chuckles, dropping his head to kiss your shoulder. “That helps?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh contentedly. “A lot, actually. Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He pushes on a tense spot experimentally, rewarded when you sink further into his front. “Just don’t try to run out on me the next time something like this comes up, yeah?” 

You agree readily. “Mhm. I wouldn’t have, if I’d known this was going to happen.” 

Remus smudges another kiss onto your shoulder, smug. “Just remember this then, I suppose.” 

[dcxdpdabbles]

I JUST SAW THESE POSTS OF DANNY BEING RAS AL GHUL CHILD LIKE THE FIRST THAT IS LIKE 25-30 YEARS OLDER THAN TALIA AND MAKE MY BRAIN WORKS FUCKING WIGGLE!?!?!??

anyway

Danny established the status quo and the disappeared for 20-60 years and the is summoned by Ra where he’s like “Dad you could’ve have called my personal phone you know that right?” And Ra’s like “YOU WENT OFF THE GRID FOR YEARS AND NEVER TOOD ME-!!??!? Now do you look different? Are you eating? What’s with comingoutthesummoningcirclefortheghostking? HMMM???”

“Ah- I knew I forgot something! Let me tell you all about it! I see you brought the whole fam and in laws let’s have dinner and discuss it- AWWWW THATS BABIES!!!” *Damian, Jason, Tim, and Dick being referred to as “babies”*

“Excuse me.” Danny then fucking tackles them in hugs and loves while dodging and/or holding their punches and kicks

"My maternal uncle is coming for a visit and likely evaluate my living arrangements.. We must be at our absolute best when he is here. " Damian announces one evening right as the family is finishing preparing for a night of crime fighting.

Everyone freezes from their respective stations, twisting around to stare at the young Robin in confusion. He doesn't notice; he is too busy making sure his katana is sharpened to perfection and balancing it on his fingertips.

"Baby Bat?" Dick calls, "What do you mean by that?"

Damian pauses in his prep work, approaching the eldest with a pretty impressive scowl. " Mother sent a messenger a few days ago about Uncle's plan audit. Should we fail it, I shall be removed into a different household."

"An audit? Removed?" Steph repeats, confused, but Damian has no idea why. He thought it was pretty apparent that Uncle Daniel would be scoring them, which would determine if Damian would be allowed to continue living within them. He has done so to all of Ra Al Ghul's offspring, and nothing his Grandfather has done has been able to stop him.

How could they think they would have more power than his grandfather?

"When shall Dusan be here?" Father asks, quickly switching on the home security. "What kind of attack should we expect?"

Damian scoffs, "Not the White Ghost. Uncle Dusan is on the other side of the world on a mission for Grandfather. No, Uncle Daniel will be the one conducting the suit. He is the eldest, after all."

Father's eyes narrow behind the white lenses of his masks. "I was unaware your mother had more siblings."

Damian considers the words, wondering how he could politely- at least he shames Alfred- remind his father that his grandfather has been around for hundreds of years. Staying at his peak through the usage of the Lazarus Pit, he has never been short of lovers.

And sometimes those lovers have given him children, many who aged and died naturally, as none has deemed worthy of the Lazarus. All except for one, the First Son, who has never needed the Pits but remained youthful and powerful on his own.

The perfect heir.

It's too bad he had abdicated long before Damian was even a thought.

"Grandfather has had many children, but Uncle Daniel is different. Special. He is the First Son."

"Capital letters," Todd cuts in, shaking his head. "It's never good when the League of Assiasans assigns capital letters. How strong is he?"

"He could easily best Grandfather and all under Grandfather's command," Damian replies, watching as the rest of the vigilantes grew uneasy by the information. It's good that they are wear of Uncle Daniel's power but they have nothing to fear of his wrath. "Uncle Daniel is a pacifist. He carries a protective core."

"A Al Ghul that a pacifist? I'll believe it when I see it." Drake droned as he was clipping on his utility belt. At once, Damian felt his body grew hot with rage. No matter what, it seemed Drake would always curse his family.

The way he says the family name drips with disrespect as if the other teen was saying a swear.

"My Uncle Daniel is a great man!" He shouts, gripping his sword so har his knuckles ache. Drake's face twists as if though he smelled something foul and the rage burning in Damian's chest spreads to his whole body.

He is just about to reach for his throwing knives when a familiar cold hand settles into his hair. "Aw thank you Little One. I love you too."

"Uncle Daniel!" Damian shouts excitably, forgetting the fool he was about to run his blades through. His uncle stands before him, the same darl night hair, warm blue eyes, and a crooked smile that had secretly comforted him in his youth.

"Where in the world did he come from!?" Damian hears one of Father's adopted brutes gasp but does not care to see who as his uncle quickly reels him in for a hug.

Hugging Uncle Daniel was like being wrapped in warm blankets in winter. He always ran rather cold, but it was lovely to be wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his protection.

It felt like nothing in the world could harm him from here.

"You seem well, Little One. Are you happy?" His uncle says. The delict of their native tongue is another comfort Damian can sink into.

"I am." He allows, snuggling his face against his stomach, as childish as it is. If only he could grow taller like his father.

"Wonderful. I'm so glad." His uncle then switches to English, ignoring all the weapons drawn and pointing at him from the Bats. Damian steps back to admire the man he wishes to grow into. "I'm terribly sorry for arriving so late, nephew. You must be tired. When is your bed time?"

"I do not have a bedtime." Damian scoffs. Uncle Daniel frowns, reaching into his chest to pull out a clipboard and a pen- he'll never get used to his uncle storing things within himself no matter how often he sees it. Damian is pretty sure he heard someone gag.

A soft click is heard as his uncle opens the pen and quickly scribbles something down. He is not tall enough to see what is written, but he can see clearly as day that his uncle selected the red ink of the muli-color pen he is using.

He only uses red when he is doing bad things. Damian breaks into a sweat. "What was that? Uncle what did you just write?"

"No bedtime. Tsk tsk." Uncle Daniel mutters, looking around the cave with disapproval. "No proper heating living space."

"Oh no! I do not live down here. This is merely the training grounds. We live upstairs" Damian quickly says, waving his hands frantically in the air as his uncle's unimpressed look. Curses, the auduit just began and already he got bad markings.

"Would you care for a tour? I shall not be going on patrol-"

"He forces you to fight crime? At your age?" Uncle barks, throwing a look of utter disgust at Father. It's the same one he gives Grandfather whenever the older man tries to raise child soldiers.

Even Damian had not been sent on any missions. His childhood had been intense training but nothing that was life-threatening.

"I volunteered to go!" He tries to defend Father, but his uncle only clicks his pen and scrambles more red ink on his paper.

Drat and Damian were actually enjoying living at the manor. He will likely have to say goodbye to it all and be moved to some house Uncle deemed more child-friendly.

"What is your diet here? Have you been taken to the doctor? Any form of therapy?" His uncle fires each question quickly, walking through Todd and Cain when they try to apprehend him without a glance.

His uncle is, and not to sound like the fools of his school, so cool.

[anarchywoofwoof]

i feel like i'm going to vomit

raytheon, who is a salesperson on behalf of agony and death, casually unfolded their disgusting, exploitative blueprint of human destruction in their latest earnings call. raytheon executives, in suits soaked with the blood and sweat of global suffering, gaped at the "opportunity" unfolding re: the ongoing war crimes and horrific brutality being carried out Palestine.

while Palestinians watch everything they've ever loved get turned to rubble, raytheon stockholders see dollars in destruction, profit in pain, and business blooming on the battlefield. imagine, turning the tremors of traumatized, suffering people into a system of fuel for your war machine - this is their normal. this is the shit that sales people at raytheon live for 9 hours a day and then go home and sleep at night.

history bleeds from the pages of raytheon's diary, filled with tales of technologized terror, largely carried out against minority peoples with little means to fight back or defend themselves. tales where human lives are turned into rows and columns on spreadsheets and civilizations’ calamities are converted into cold, hard cash trails.

meanwhile, the boardroom buzzes and swarms with heartless vultures, circling the globe, eyes peeled for the next plot of despair to descend upon, beaks ready to peck at the literal carrion of communities in conflict.

oh, and Biden's Defense Secretary was on the Board

“see a benefit,” they have the fucking audacity to say, as if the orchestras of war are trumpeting some sort of symphony of success for their gross and disgusting contributions. raytheon's portfolios pulsate with the rhythms of air strikes and raids, and their balance sheets boom with the bass of bombs dropping on communities that have been traumatized so many times over that they have nothing left to give.

in the tragedy of others, raytheon finds triumph. in the heartbeats silenced by their symphonies of destruction, they find the rhythm of their entire revenue stream.

the engine of exploitation, oiled with oppression and fueled by the flames of conflict, roars at the center of raytheon's profit model. call it out when you see it: capitalism is incompatible with the preservation of human life.

[x]

[duchess-of-mandalore]

Star Wars, friends. I know this is not why you follow me, but please make this my most shared post.

You are here.

We're living the lead-up to Revenge of the Sith, and it scares me so much a) it feels like there is so little we can do, and b) young people are acting as if there is nothing we can do.

If you don't know what's going on, I need you to wake up and get engaged.

I have two history degrees. My whole life I've always been the person saying, "When people say, 'This is the most important election ever," it just shows how little they know about history.'"

So please believe me when I tell you that THIS is the most important election (cycle, not just presidential race) that you will likely ever be a part of.

Trump is not Hitler. He's too stupid to be Hitler.

But our democracy only held together in 2020 because of a few people like Mike Pence who were willing to stand up against Trump when it was truly the last line of defense. I know that's hard for some of you to hear, but whatever you think of his beliefs, Pence showed he has integrity and stands by the Constitution.

There will be no Mike Pences this time around. Trump will not make the mistake of surrounding himself with those who are not fully committed to him.

Trump is a convicted felon. He is running to avoid his convictions and likely jail time more than anything else. If he wins, he will be able to pardon himself of his federal crimes, but he's going to keep acting like Donald Trump. If he's still alive in 2028, do you think he will leave the White House peacefully and just submit to further cases against him?

Please watch John Oliver's recent expose on Project 2025 and Trump's Second Term. It is linked in a comment below.

Trump and his administration are already putting in place plans for sweeping reforms that truly will make America look like The Handmaid's Tale. Presidents usually will push for more when they're in their second term because they don't have to worry about another election campaign, but this is different. This is about dismantling the democratic system so that it only benefits the most radical conservatives and Christians.

Christians, I am one of you. I was raised Evangelical (capital E meaning politically motivated culture warrior), and I am still evangelical (lower-case e, referring to theological beliefs). This is not the posture of Christ-followers. There is no good that comes from state-mandated religion, which both coerces people to claim that they are believers for social and cultural clout AND waters down the true religious fervor of the church because most people are only nominal believers.

There is NOTHING about Christian Nationalism that is in the best interest of Christians or in the best interest of the neighbors Christians are called to sacrificially love. If you need a reminder of who your neighbor is, read Luke 10:25-37.

Please start talking with your friends. Young people, please register to vote and bring your friends to do the same.

I know so many of you are disillusioned. I am too. Things that are going on in Palestine and Ukraine and so many other places make it very hard to vote for people with "D"s behind their names (especially after the recent presidential debate).

But punishing Joe Biden is not the revenge you want to pursue here. Are you unhappy with him giving Israel $12.5 billion? I am too, but do you think that number won't be repeated multiple times under Trump? Again, I was raised Evangelical. A staple of (politically-focused) Evangelicalism is that Christians (and thus America) must support (the modern state of) Israel no matter what because they have a hyper-literal understanding of the verse where God tells Abraham that he will bless those who bless him (including his descendants who became Israel).

Do not underestimate the importance of that view in their ideology. Nearly every member of my biological family has shunned me for suggesting that this is not a blanket endorsement of every action the modern state of Israel takes.

Trump is a criminal running for president to save his skin. He supports Benjamin Netanyahu, the prime minister of Israel who is now himself wanted for war crimes. Trump has aligned himself with the authoritarian leaders/dictators of Hungary, China, North Korea, and Russia. He is open about his love for Russian president Vladimir Putin's authoritarian regime and stands against Ukraine's democracy and national sovereignty.

This is what happened before World War I and World War II.

I know this isn't what you follow me for.

But George Lucas was showing the dangers of authoritarianism. He shows that democracy is hard. It's frustrating trying to negotiate with people you disagree with vehemently. It may seem like nothing gets done.

Go and watch the Naboo picnic scene. Go and do it. And after chuckling at all the funny memes it's given us, let me tell you why it scares me so much.

Because Padme laughs.

Anakin tells her who he is, and she laughs.

She passes it off as a joke, or as flirting, or maybe even as just the ignorant views of a boy who views life as far more black and white than she knows it to be.

But the alternative to all of that frustrating democracy, all that gridlock in the Senate, all those choices and compromises you have to make in order to benefit the people at all ... the alternative is a dictator who says, "I will make all the decisions for us."

That's why there are people who applaud Palpatine. That's why we as viewers see Bail and Padme as the reasonable ones and think it's crazy that anyone would applaud, but they do.

The applaud because Palpatine says, "You don't have to be frustrated anymore. You don't have to be worried about those who disagree with you anymore." Safety and security and ease are powerful temptations when you live in a polarized society, and Palpatine offers them all of those things.

That's why many people applaud Trump, too.

There were also people who applauded Palpatine who did see the danger of what he was doing. But they applauded because it was easier to do so. He had already amassed power because they didn't stand up to him before. They applaud him now because standing against him now would have dire consequences they wouldn't have faced if they had stood against him before.

So vote. And get your friends to vote.

If there is any part of you that believes Star Wars has important things to tell us about real life, then I need you to fan that flame into a fire.

Otherwise, you won't be living in the prequels anymore. You will be living in the time of the Empire.

Vote.

[loggiepj]

To Love A Lannister

chapter 8 | chapter 9

You would never love anything in this world the way you loved your first child.

The murder of King Joffrey was an unforeseen event even when everyone knew it coming due to his conceited attitude. He was never fit to be a King. But for all the wrong deeds he had done, no one would say he didn't deserve it.

Joffrey was poisoned on his wedding day. And Cersei immediately blamed her brother Tyrion, the one who served the spiked wine to the King as he was being humiliated in front of the guests. It didn't help Tyrion's case when his wife Sansa mysteriously disappeared after the crime.

The Queen was hysterical as she wept for her first son in her arms, demanding justice. You wanted to approach her, but that would only raise unwanted questions from the guests. Besides, Oberyn stopped you when you suddenly stood, ready to comfort Cersei, gripping your wrist as he did. It was only when Jaime ran towards the Queen when you managed to control yourself.

~~~

Cersei had started to shut herself off, ignoring your letters, ignoring your visits, even ignoring your attempts at making small conversation as you greeted her at the dining hall, as if nothing happened between the two of you. Grief does that to a person.

The incident caused the house Martell to postpone sailing back home, for leaving the Capital would only bring suspicion. The ongoing tension between the Martells and Lannisters were not a secret.

During the days you had extended your stay, you had made it your mission to seek justice for Cersei's son, no matter how he didn't deserve it.

You wanted to comfort her, you did, but when you saw Jaime came out of her chambers at nights almost looking disheveled, you knew you'd only be hurting yourself.

~~~

"So was it you?"

"Do you think I killed Joffrey?" Tyrion mocked, his gaze bored and on the ground. He sat on a small wooden barrel with drenched filthy clothes. The cell he was imprisoned was for common prisoners, but not for a highborn like him. "No. I wanted to. But no, I didn't."

Oberyn sighed, crossing his arms across his chest while leaning against the wall, as he observed the interaction. He insisted to come with you, no matter how he wanted nothing to do with it, to visit and interrogate Tyrion about the murder. Let them kill each other, their own blood, he had said.

"Can you prove it, your whereabouts, or doings hours or even days before the wedding?" Oberyn asked after a moment, seeing you troubled.

"Would it make any difference?" Tyrion stood, chains around his hands and feet making a noise. "Father doesn't care if I killed him or not. Cersei will never believe me that I didn't, of course she wouldn't-"

You interrupted, "But if you can only reason with her-"

"Reason with Cersei?" Tyrion laughed, his eyes rolling at you. "Look, Lady Y/n, I know you mean well. But do not be blinded by love. Cersei has always hated me and I will always be blamed for killing her son just like I killed our mother when she birthed me."

When he saw your frown grow deeper, he added, "I know you're in love with her."

Your eyes widened, filled with fear and guilt.

"I can see it in your eyes," he went on. "You two weren't really that discreet, you know. I think father suspects too."

"Do you think-"

"Cersei is not, well I don't know how to put this gently, she's not a kind woman, Y/n," he said. "So I suggest you lot better leave for Dorne and save yourself. You could be in my shoes if you weren't too careful."

~~~

It was four days after Joffrey's death, two days after his funeral, when you had managed to corner Cersei. She was staring into the horizon from the Red Keep's garden, the vast sea ahead. When she had advised her kingsguard to leave the both of you, you knew you finally had the chance to talk to her.

Carefully approaching her, you swallowed a nervous lump. Cold breeze from the sea made you shiver slightly as silence enveloped the two of you. You watched the Martells' ship from a distance, ready to sail in a fortnight, after Tyrion's trial.

"I watched my son die," Cersei began, "and I couldn't even do anything about it."

"It wasn't your fault," you said, finally facing the Queen. You then held her hand and squeezed it for assurance. She only let you, her gaze still fixed ahead.

"It was mine. Father said so. Even I could tell others had been judging me. I had been negligent, I had forgotten what I'm supposed to do."

"And that is?"

"To serve the kingdom, to be a King's mother-"

You stopped her, cupping her face as you did to make her look at you. "Cersei-"

"You will go back to Dorne," she ordered, her eyes boring into yours, a shadow of the Cersei you fell in love with present. "And never return."

Brows furrowing deeper, you sighed with a frown. "Let's not be-"

"I will never ask you to see me in my chambers nor in yours-"

"Cersei, stop!"

"You distracted me from my responsibilities," she interjected, her voice slightly rising and her cold eyes glaring at you. "Any actions moving forward will only affect my children."

"It wasn't your fault!"

"It was! My son wouldn't be dead if I was there for him!"

"You did your best," you said, holding her other hand as she began to walk away from you. "You were an amazing mother to him, even when he's not that kind of a person-"

Slap. "You do not speak ill about my son ever again!"

"I'm sorry, Cersei, but-"

"Leave!"

"Cersei, please don't close yourself off."

"The imp did this," she said out of trance, hysteric. "My brother imp did this. He's always hated Joffrey-"

"Hey, hey," you brushed her trembling shoulders, "you need to open your mind. And see reason. Tyrion might have his own reasons to kill Joffrey but do you ever think he'd actually do it? Because it doesn't seem like he did-"

"Get off me!" Cersei pulled away from you. "How dare you? I know he's been wanting to kill Joffrey since he was born."

"Oberyn had Tyrion list his whereabouts until the wedding day and Cersei, it doesn't really add up-"

"You talked to him?"

"Only to interrogate-"

"He and Sansa plotted it," she stated, nostrils flaring. "They both hated Joffrey. And with Sansa gone-"

"Sansa could have just run away because she was scared," you explained. "It's not possible-"

"I said leave!" The queen spat, punching your chest and you only let her. "You've already made up your mind not to believe me. You're just like everyone else. You're just like Jaime."

Your arms instinctively embraced around Cersei to stop her. Eventually, her fists curled against your clothes as she ended up sobbing into your chest.

Shushing her gently, you hugged her tight, your nose burying into her hair. Quiet moments passed as you both treasured the warmth from your bodies.

Until your heads slowly moved in synchronization, as your mouths met almost an inch close. Barely there. Eyes closed. Breathings hitched. Noses brushed against each other. As if one of you was terrified to close the distance yet desperately wanted to.

And you decided to place a soft kiss against her forehead instead.

"I'm always here for you, Cersei," you murmured. "Please do not ever forget that."

After a small pause, you whispered hesitantly, "I . . . I love you."

The Queen opened her eyes.

"What good will your love do?" Cersei said with a scowl as she pulled away from you. "Will it bring my son back alive?"

~~~

The ongoing turmoil inside you kept you awake most nights. You knew the worse was yet to happen, but it didn't stop you from worrying too much. Until one night, Lord Tywin sent for you to meet him in the council room. Your cousin Oberyn was already there when you arrived, ready to leave.

"Lady Y/N," Tywin greeted. You bowed shortly before opening your mouth. But then Tywin raised his hand to stop you. "I apologize for having to call you at a late hour. I was about to send another Kingsguard to disregard my prior request, given that I have already relayed my propositions to Oberyn and I trust Oberyn will be the bearer of good news."

"What's going on?"

Tywin smiled coyly as he placed a cloak around his shoulders, as if dismissing you. Oberyn walked towards you and pulled you out the room. He must have dragged you back to your chambers with difficulty, not with you always hesitating if he wouldn't tell you anything.

"Tywin knew about your affairs with Cersei," Oberyn began once you both were in your room. "He's suspicious about you getting too close to the queen without any objective."

"What? Does he think I killed the King?"

"Could be," he shrugged to which you let out a scoff, "especially when poison is known as a woman's weapon, Y/n."

You then fell silent, thinking of ways to defend yourself.

"You are to marry Cersei," Oberyn said, his eyes looking all worried.

When you only stared at him dumbfounded, he went on.

"Tywin suspects we had something to do with his grandson's death," Oberyn explained. "He doesn't believe Tyrion, his son, is capable to do that. And I know the Lannisters don't want to start a war against the Dornish folks for setting up a blame he cannot prove. So he made a proposal. For you to marry Cersei. You marrying Cersei would diminish doubts of any rebellion against them."

Somehow, your knees grew weaker as you leaned unto your bedpost before slipping to sit on the edge of your bed.

"Tywin and I discussed it at length-"

"When have you become friends with Tywin?" you interjected. "And aren't you the one insisting I should stay away from her?"

He walked closer towards you. "They believe sending your enemies far away is a disadvantage. I think Tywin wants to keep his enemies closer."

"Clearly, the ones who believe that doesn't have too many enemies."

"This is only to get assurance until we're safely back in Dorne," he said. "You won't be touched if you're married to a Lannister. Besides, that's what you want right? To be with Cersei?"

"Does father know?"

Oberyn shook his head as he stepped towards the window. "I have yet to tell him of the proposal. I'm sending a raven tonight. But I don't think he will take this lightly."

"What . . . about the Queen? Does Cersei know about this?"

Oberyn only stayed silent as he stared out into the dark sky.

~~~

There was a knock in your chambers later that night. Consumed with thoughts about the recent events, sleep was hard to get by. The moment you opened your door, a sliver of golden hair in white gown flew past you.

"Cersei, you could have been seen-"

A harsh slap met your face, almost making you lose your balance. "You think you're so wise trying to get into my father's favors?"

The marriage proposal.

"Cersei-"

Another slap. "I'm still your queen!"

"Your Grace, I had nothing to do with it," you said, slowly approaching her. Yet, she didn't want anywhere near you.

"Father wants to punish me," she declared, her stare cold. "Marrying someone like you is a punishment."

And curse to seven hells, because that hurt.

You controlled your temper as she went on, pacing angrily around the room. "Just like what he did with Robert. As if marrying you would have any difference."

And when you didn't answer back, she continued. "How long have you known me, Y/n? A month and a half! And you think we're already in love."

"I'll try to persuade him-"

"Persuade my father?" she scoffed. "As if that man ever needed persuading. He'd kill you, put your head on a stake for everyone to see if you disobey him."

"I'm sure my father would seek-"

"Your father?" Cersei snorted a laugh. "Who's your father, Y/n? What power does he have that would help your case?"

She went on, observing you motionless leaning against your desk. "You've wanted this all along-"

"Cersei, I had nothing to do with it."

She pursed her lips as she walked towards the door. Then she looked back, her gaze at the floor. "You'll never ever have me. Not while I'm alive."

People warned you about it. And now you were too stupid to believe this woman could ever love you.

(Author's note: I will change the storyline from this moment on, so the events might not be in line with the books and movie any longer.)

[wiisagi-maiingan]

I love watching youtube videos about tiktok and influencer drama, mainly because I'm completely disconnected from stuff like that (I have never watched an influencer video in my life) so it gives me the thrill of true crime without the tragedy exploitation aspect, but sometimes I also feel completely disconnected from the youtubers too?

Like every youtuber has to offer up a million disclaimers about how they aren't judging influencers or whatever and that's usually fine but like. I do feel that there ARE points where people need to be judged for the content they're sharing and promoting and profiting off of!

"I'm not judging tradwives or saying their content is bad—" I am!! I am absolutely judging tradwives! Extremely harshly! Because the entire "tradwife" movement is conservative propaganda based on misogynistic and patriarchal ideas about history with no basis in reality or in our modern world! And tradwife influencers explicitly target young women and especially teen girls and try to convince them to put their entire lives in the hands of their husbands, which is a horrific recipe for domestic abuse!

These women making hundreds of thousands of dollars off tiktok videos (and often coming from extremely wealthy families) are out here telling young girls that they don't need an education, that they don't need their own income, that if they're just pretty enough and obedient enough then they'll find a rich husband and never have to worry about anything ever and it's fucking scary! And I don't know why we are tolerating it!

We know what happens when people, especially women, give up complete control to their partners. We know what that leads to, resentment and extreme control and total lack of options when things go from totally fine to constant arguing to violence. These influencers, who ARE making extremely significant personal incomes from their jobs as influencers online, lie through their fucking teeth about how perfect it is that their husbands do everything for them and all they have to do is take care of the kids and home (with the help of nannies and housekeepers and personal chefs off-screen. . .) and about how they've escaped from capitalism, meanwhile the people actually in those situations who AREN'T making all that extra cash are either already in abusive relationships or they're in incredibly precarious positions where they could end up abused or thrown out with nothing in an instant.

I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to be a homemaker or stay-at-home parent. I don't think it's wrong to not want to go to college or have a 9-5.

But you NEED options. You need full access to your own money that can't be monitored or controlled by a partner. You need access to a vehicle. You need a life outside of your home and family, especially friends who are willing and able to help you if needed. You need the ability to survive on your own in some way. Because if and when things go wrong in the relationship, THOSE are the things that will save your life.

Also remember that again, these tradwives DO have jobs and their jobs involve selling a fake lifestyle and fake ideals. They are getting paid BIG TIME for the shit they peddle to you, whether that's through the millions of views they get (both from genuine fans and from haters, the algorithm doesn't know or care about the difference) or the many sponsorships they get, they have incomes that they are not disclosing. They have help that they are not disclosing. Many of them started out with extreme wealth but lie through their teeth and cosplay as fucking homesteading peasants. It's all a lie to sell shit to you. Don't buy it.

Disclaimer: Please do not nitpick this post, it's very late and I'm ranting and if this leaves my circle of followers I will regret it deeply. Be nice. Tradwives dni, you're all annoying.

[pilferingapples]

this is an invitation to infodump. i would LOVE to hear the thoughts you have on beggars at the feast, should you want to talk about them

AUGH ok ok let's see how well I can articulate...anything

OK so first: In the Letters server lately we've been talking a bit about how , in the book, Thenardier is WAY more the Human Nemesis than Javert is. He shows up earlier than Javert does; he's able to be a threat in ways Javert can't be, and to people Javert can't and wouldn't even try to touch ; he shares a TON of paralleling symbolism and class-blurring roles with JVJ; he's the last Personal Threat remaining in the novel, and the last thing we hear about him is that he's not only thriving , he's committing worse atrocities on a grander scale than anything we saw in the book, and getting nothing but social approval for it.

Thenardier is a nightmare, and he's triumphant, and as such he's a condemnation of society in an equal and opposing way to Jean Valjean. Valjean's story (and Fantine's , and the Thenardier siblings' ,. and the Amis , etc) says "look what we're destroying, look at the actions we punish". Thenardier's ultimate triumph as a literal slave trader flips it around and says "look what we support, look at what we endorse, look at what we elevate and approve." (now within the book I could take this farther , I could point out that the only thing within the novel that breaks any of the miserables free of their oppression to any degree is crime of some kind, be it revolution or theft or Being an Accomplice or exploitation, and the only thing that costs the (relatively) privileged their security and power is to truly ally with the miserables, but !! I'm talking about the musical)

In the musical Thenardier is softened a lot. Like... a LOT. The Thenardiers' exploitation of Fantine is barely mentioned ; their violent abuse of Cosette is turned into a joke; their abuse of Eponine is minimized (and their other kids are either Not Appearing in this Play or not obviously connected to them) ; and that final doomstrike epilogue, Thenardier becoming a slave trader, is gone. He's no longer the primary and most dangerous human antagonist; as in many other adaptations, that's now Javert.

So there's a different arc but it's there : From Master of the House and the Robbery , when he largely comes across as a gross but funny Comic Villain ; to the Attack on the Rue Plumet, where we finally see a bit of danger to him; to Dog Eats Dog, where he is really just acting on the same philosophy we saw in MotH but now doing something most people have a more immediate revulsion to, and the mask is really off; to , finally, Beggars at the Feast. If Beggars at the Feast is done RIGHT, This is Where The Villains Win.

They've gotten knocked around, sure, but they've also just gotten a ton of money, and, if done right, they are either blending in with the society party or, in the best staging * , they end up leading the dance. It's Master of the House all over again, only this time we're not being invited to laugh along with Thenardier's "band of soaks" ; this isn't the dregs of society, an easily stigmatized lower-class punchline.

This is Society, capital S Society, and they're just as ready to go along with him-- MORE ready to go along with him, even, because at least some of his inn customers usually get to be affronted and argue a little, but arguing with him risks some Unpleasantness, and isn't everything in Society so pleasant? Isn't it nice here, at the party? Let's not argue with the openly hateful people singing about how they want to destroy us all; look, they're dancing and singing! Let's just follow their lead. Won't that be nice.

And without getting into modern politics just because it's ALWAYS so current and I could never update the references frantically enough, I'll say that this is where Stage!Thenardier most echoes those Book!Thenardier Napoleon III vibes. Hugo knew what this dance looked like. He fell for it at one point.

(and hey, maybe it even raises some unease in audience members who laughed at MoTH and the child abuse and the Robbery without thinking about it-- maybe some people realize Oh Shit, We Fell For It Too. Not necessarily, but maybe?? ) And so it's fitting that it's this scene that has IMO a very clear sense of the book's incredibly specific political message ("Parisians, France, Please Overthrow Napoleon III, Probably With Barricades" ) , albeit in reverse. The Thenardiers gloat "Clear away the barricades and we're still here!" -- to them, a brag on how they endure all the changes around them.

But also implying: don't clear away the damn barricades. If you don't want the Thenardiers to run the show , help shore up that furniture wall and fight (for a modern international audience, this is probably going to be Not AS Specifically Involving Barricades).

So yeah. I'm not gonna say it's the most important song in the whole show , but it's important in ways I rarely see critics or commenters notice.

...Or it's just a funny musical reprise and you can have the Thenardiers be immediately thrown out of the wedding as frauds bc hahaha the poors thought they could play with their betters, good thing we're all so much smarter and cooler than that in the upper crust. That's fine too.

yes I have opinions; also I'm Correct

[dark-frosted-heart]

Choose Your True Love - Keith Howell (part 2/4)

This is the from the 4th anniversary event

(Alter)Keith indicates that it’s Alter!Keith pretending to be Keith.

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. Some dialogue’s taken directly from the English version of Keith's route.

(He's impressive in so many ways…)

Alter!Keith: Thought you were gonna cry a bit, but you’re pretty tough even with that cute face. Or are you used to this in the future?

Emma: From what I know, things aren’t as bad as they are now. It’s most likely because Prince Keith keeps things in check.

Alter!Keith: That so? Makes sense…Then it’s worth gutting them.

He snickered and looked over his documents again.

(Be careful with “that”)

The documents from Liam had information on nobles who had committed crimes that couldn’t be ignored.

And so I went from estate to estate with Prince Keith as his aide.

You could say the purpose was to do some clean up.

~~ Flashback ~~

(Alter)Keith:  Even cities far from the capital are under watch. Continue foolishly raising taxes and we’ll know. It’s alright though, I won’t be asking for an immediate confession. After tomorrow, you won’t be a lord, so we have plenty of time.

--

(Alter)Keith: You joined a group of thieves to deal in illegal trading. Good thing you were too optimistic to be careful. Is that an excuse I hear? Let’s go, there’s a carriage waiting. You don’t live here anymore.

--

(Alter)Keith: It’s not fake at all. This is real evidence given to me by the administrator you hired. You should be thankful that they gave you a chance to make up for your crimes. But will this pointless struggle continue?

~~ End flashback ~~

(Even though he was pretending to be nice Prince Keith, his smile instilled fear)

(Those cold golden eyes that could stop the heart and merciless cornering)

(And speaking of mercy, he didn’t take any lives)

I shivered at the memory. Those nobles must have been traumatized.

~~ Flashback to his route ~~

 Liam: Although his methods are barbaric, it is thanks to him that our nation’s defenses are stronger, and the nobles who hurt the common people are less in number. Although naturally, there is a subset of nobles who despise him because of that. Prince Keith has achieved a great many things. But most of those were achieved by that piece of crap.

~~ End flashback ~~

A conversation from before I came to Jade crossed my mind.

(Sure, the way he’s cornering the nobles will make them hostile, but it eases the common people’s suffering)

(He’s doing this “on behalf of” and “for” the nice Prince Keith…)

(Prince Keith’s annoyed by the cruel words said, but he’s not upset by them)

(It’s like he’s used to it)

(...I can’t ignore it)

The nobles naturally didn’t admit to their crimes when they were presented to them.

And because it was Prince Keith they were dealing with, they hurled insults at him, which made me angry.

Alter!Keith: …

Emma: Um, can I help you?

I tilted my head in confusion when Prince Keith leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and stared at me.

Alter!Keith: Nothing. Just surprised by how much you like the failure.

(I’m not…though this reminds me of when we first met)

He’d call nice Prince Keith a “failure”, but would smile whenever I said he wasn’t.

(He’s been lying to himself and acting contradictory for so long…)

Alter!Keith: …

(Ah, he’s going over the documents again)

They were different from the ones Liam gave him, and he had been spending most of our time in the carriage looking over them.

(I wonder if the king’s already left official duties to him as his aid by this time)

The sunlight made the dark circles under his eyes peeking out through his bangs more prominent.

(That’s probably not the only cause…)

It was something that had been bothering me since before we left the castle, and I unconsciously opened my mouth.

Emma: Why don’t you rest your eyes for a moment?

Alter!Keith: Sorry I got you worried, but these dark circles are that guy’s fault. “I’m” not tired.

Emma: Nice Prince Keith’s fault…?

(What did he mean?)

Alter!Keith: …That’s what you call him?

Emma: Yes, since you’re both Prince Keith.

Alter!Keith: Then what about me?

Emma: Wicked Prince Keith.

Alter!Keith: Haha, so I played with you in the future? Well, you do look gullible.

Emma: I don’t think I am…?

Alter!Keith: Whatever you say…Hm?

Emma: ?

(Did he see something outside the window…?)

Like Prince Keith, I looked out the window.

At that moment, I felt a peck on the cheek and heard a chuckle.

I looked back and saw Prince Keith smiling wickedly at me.

Alter!Keith: I need to use complex tricks for Emma. Noted.

Emma: …You’re still as wicked as ever.

Alter!Keith: So I’m also wicked Prince Keith too?

He still had that same innocent smile which almost made me forget that I was in the past. 

(Hopefully this was enough to distract from the unpleasantness from the estate…)

Alter!Keith: As an apology for making you pout, I’ll answer any question you have.

Emma: Huh?

Alter!Keith: There’s something you want to ask me.

(...Is he sure?)

I hesitated for a moment and looked into his eyes.

Emma: The dark circles aren’t because you’re busy with official duties, is it?

Alter!Keith: You got it.

Prince Keith sighed and everything was quiet for a moment.

Alter!Keith: …The next time we wake up, which personality will be in front? What if it’s a different personality? He’s been losing sleep worrying over this.

(I thought so…)

I remembered his diaries and the empty shelves.

(Back in this time, Prince Keith was still confused over his abnormality, and was struggling to accept it)

(So maybe those feelings of fear and rejection toward the wicked Prince Keith were strong enough to make him lose sleep)

Alter!Keith: He may be a failure, but he’s stubborn. Even if he can’t do anything, he’ll still desperately try to do something for his country or someone else. …And he gets in my way.

(Now I can understand just how much the wicked Prince Keith cares for the nice Prince Keith)

(...That’s why it’s difficult)

At the same time, it felt irritating.

--

(...I want to cover my ears right now)

[thesharktanksdriver]

Weaving threads of friendship (mostly platonic)

Refer to this post.

As the people requested, Hobie’s partner meeting Miles.

This one is significantly shorter than my last one partially cause I think this is pretty straightforward

From the moment Miles Morales heard of Hobie brown he didn’t know exactly how to feel about him

It happened in passing as he and Gwen had swung through the city

The first time since the collider incident that he had seen her, months of wondering if she was fine

If she and the others had made it back safe

And now as they go around city just like he had hoped if she mentions him

He couldn’t help but feel a twang of panic

Feelings he’s harboured for the blond that had been simmering for a long while coming to a bubbling uproar

Didn’t help as he pushed the subject and got in response that she had apparently been living with him

An ugly seed of envy sprouts it’s way into his gut at that

He can’t help but feel ashamed of it

This was Gwen, of course she found someone. She was the coolest person he knows

Someone who could do ballet while fighting villains

Plus was apart of some kickass band in her dimension

He honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if she was selling out stadiums

And if she wasn’t currently, then he fully expected that for her future

He should feel happy that she found someone

Happy that she was in a good place

Yet it’s hard to ignore that sprouting envy as his emotions are already high enough as it is when seeing her again

It doesn’t help when he meets Hobie though

Having a moment to prove himself and then suddenly having it quite literally dashed open

With a guitar no less

Doesn’t help that he was cool as hell

The studded black leather vest

Spike Mohawk

Doc Martin boots

British accent

Silver gleaming piercings

Miles knew he couldn’t compare to him

And by god did it hurt

From the moment Hobie saw miles he knew knew he’d like the accidental Spider-Man

It might be due to the fact that Miguel did NOT want him apart of the Spider regime

On the fact that him being Spider-Man went against canon

But it also had to do with the fact that he recognized how he looked at Gwen

It’s how Hobie looked at you

Sure, he couldn’t see under the mask but it was very glaringly obvious to Brit

That was the gaze of someone who was in a deep passionate love

Something akin to fizzling fireworks that popped off in the night

Pop rocks exploding on your tongue on a humid day

Sappy romantic shite that he once never thought he’d think of

Until he rapidly found himself staring at you with that same expression

It makes him chuckle a bit thinking back

How glaringly obvious he was with his feelings yet you couldn’t accept the signs

Not until he told you face to face

Good times

With that look he also sees a slight sadness with it as well

Miles occasionally glancing at him and then back to Gwen

The slight bitter taste Miles held in his voice when addressing him

But what…oh

That realization almost makes Hobie burst out in laughter

Poor lad is probably running circles in his head for nothing

He’s definitely gonna have to tell him

One the tour of the HQ Hobie lingers close by to the newbie

Hands on his pockets as Jessica leads to way to Miguel’s sulking area

With the lame and inconveniently slow office floor elevator

A perfect example of capitalism

He pulls Miles aside with an arm around his shoulder, making Mikes give a noise of complaint

Until Hobie pulled out a Polaroid from an inner pocket of his vest

In it was Hobie with another person

Both staring up at the camera as he gave them a kiss

Miles looks to him in confusion

“I thought you and-“

“Gwenivere? Nah mate. S’ just crashin at my place cause home ain’t the best for her right now.”

“And that’s?”

“Yeah, my partner in crime so to say. Should meet them sometime, they’d like ya”

“Really?”

“Gwen won’t stop talking bout you.”

Hobie stifles a laugh at Miles’s face

The look of surprise and Fluster washing over the young lad as he shoots a glance at Gwen

Who all the while remained obvious to his stare as he directs it to the ground once more

Hobie grabs a new piece of tech as he does this

Pocketing it as he did with many other nick-knacks he’d found and swiped

To be fair, if it’s not nailed to the ground real nice then it’s free territory for grabbing

Or well…that’s what he tells others anyways

The piles of scrap pilled up in both his home and your room is a testament to that

As was the prototypes of his own dimension hoping bracelet

When you met Miles you couldn’t help but be extremely excited as the young Spider-Man sat down on Hobie’s worn and old ripped leather couch

Gwen often talked of him

So now seeing him in person is a extremely fun experience especially since he’s awkward in a way that reminds you of your past self

Conversation starts off slow at first

Stuff mostly revolving around his universe

What he liked

Etcetera Etcetera

But what really gets talk happening is when he brings up drawing

In a life in which your surrounded by musically artistic people it’s nice to have someone with a new passion

So it’s safe to say he quickly ends up showing you his sketchbook

Carefully showing you pages of graffiti tags

Mural ideas

And a few that had Gwen that he quickly flipped to a different page

You don’t comment on it but your grin alone tells him what he needs to hear

Speaking of which, Gwen is ecstatic that you get to meet Miles

She would not spot talking about it even before the whole “don’t tell mikes about the spider society” situation happened and was figured out

You definitely tease her a bit about it

And Miles as well

Buts it’s all in good nature

Miles finds you to be down to earth and Hobie’s translator of sorts

He doesn’t at all get British slang or can understand what Hobie is talking about so you help with that

Using an phrases and metaphors work better for his American understanding

He thanks whatever god there is for that cause sometimes he swears Hobie is making up shit just to confuse him

If you show him all the handmade gifts Hobie has made for you he gets a lot of creative inspiration

Especially since he’s always willing to step out of his normal medium

Show him how to make his own custom pins and he’ll return later with at least 15 plus a couple for you and Hobie

Their also really well drawn as well

So it’s a win win for everyone

At some point you secretly ask him to make some potential album cover art for Hobie and he is fucking ecstatic

He’s never done something like that before so he takes to trying it very seriously

Experimenting with styles

Trying new techniques

Eventually he settles down on a mix of graffiti and collage of news paper clippings

Cause apparently to him you both look as if your straight from newspaper clippings mashed together

Gwen can attest to this as well

Hobie ends up fucking loving it

And Gwen, Miles and Pavitr have to deal with the punk being all lovey dovey to you in a way they had never imagined Hobie to be

He’s peppering your face with kisses and swinging you around in a hug

You let out a small yell as he tosses you up and catches you

It’s honestly really sweet

“How did I once find him intimidating?”

“Eh, it’s not much of a surprise to me. You’d be surprised to find out how many Punk people are actually really sweet”

“I think it’s also cause you thought he was dating g-“

He eventually puts you down and pulls them into a hug

That quickly turns into him aggressively messing up their hair

“I take what I said back”

“Hey! Don’t mess with the hair! My beautiful natural hair!”

“Why am I even surprised anymore?”

Safe to say miles has become a new vital part of this group

And you wouldn’t have it any other way

[rebelwheelsnycpoetry]

And The Papers Said

TW: ABLEISM & EUGENICS by Michele Sommerstein

Part One And the papers said Michael Hickson, a black disabled man. And the papers said Hospital. Texas. COVID. Infection And the papers said Killed. For his doctor did not feel And the papers said that a… quadriplegic could possibly have a quality, of life. And the papers said and thus was not worth saving And the papers said (was not saved) disabled people are not of worth message repeating and… sent.

And the papers said the doctor had the audacity to say And the papers said it's not personal, to Hickson's wife, And the papers said There are set criteria from the state And the papers said As to who will live and who they let die And the papers said Michael Hickson. a black disabled body, that did not comply

Once again, reunited Eugenics & Capitalism America's not so secret friends fucking each other furiously for the sake of mindless fucking, like machines wallowing in their own stains, covered in their own blood and filth, crimes. unclean Disgusted? You should be.

Part Two Shortages! Hospitals! Ventilators! Low! This, that was avoidable & created by the vulture capitalists who see death… elated - pandemic as an opportunity! Cha-ching! Soulless! Shortages! Created by, the powers that be Like when, Cuomo – the hero praised at times for merely being, better than Trump! (Raise the bar! This drinks on me) cut funding, healthcare. home care. hospitals (before and during the pandemic) Shortages! So the billionaires would be spared from paying their fair, share, of… taxes Shortages! While marginalized people are blamed for, “costing too much” the audacity of austerity…

Shortages created when patients, infected knowingly sent to nursing homes, locked up. death traps, unleashing COVID on the people in places where social distancing was never, even, an option.

Part Three There are those, who will hear these words, shrug and nonchalant they will say things like Well, these things happen, what can you do? Those who are complacent, able bodied, complicit, still living but numb. They will repeat, their response so casually even to the face of those visibly disabled, as if it's nothing in a tone used to discuss sweaters and their… plans for lunch as if we as a society can't do better? (We can. We must.)

Who taught you about disability? Who lied to you saying disabled people are less than, undeserving? That we are better off dead?

Part Four And the papers said… His wife implored, insisting, knowing he lived a full life. And the papers said for in her eyes, in her heart, her love's life was worth saving. And the papers said, doctors withheld treatment including hydration… nutrition read: starving him for six. days Michael Hickson. a black disabled body that did not comply. “Michael Hickson, [a black disabled man] died leaving, his wife and five children, behind.“

About the poem: I originally wrote this poem because, so often as a disabled person, you read these headlines and it’s absorbed into you, but there's not always an outlet to really express the emotional toll.

So often, I'd read the headlines and somewhat shut down because I can’t feel every time I read something like this, but it’s still in you. Michael Hickson was the first time I read an article that actually included a name when they were discussing “state criterias' and the pandemic. The conversation between the doctor and Hickson’s wife was recorded and when I heard it, it just hit me on a deeper level and I had to write something.

That said, to learn more about the intersections of ableism & racism, I suggest checking out the following peoples: @Imani_Barbarin , @VilissaThompson , @BlackDisability & @powernotpity on Twitter.

You can read more about Michael Hickson’s story here: https://notdeadyet.org/2020/06/adapt-of-texas-protests-hospital-killing-of-michael-hickson-a- black-disabled-man.html

[glittergroovy]

Where Are My Fucking Pills? - Death Spells

[abisbookcase]

100+ songs that remind me of kiribaku/bakushima: the ship between eijiro kirishima + katsuki bakugo from my hero academia (anime)

best friend - rex orange county

sunflower - rex orange county

just a friend - jordi

pluto projector - rex orange county

i love you so - the walters

falling for ya - from the "teen beach movie" - grace phipps

line without a hook - ricky montgomery

mr. loverman - ricky montgomery

the only exception - paramore

devil town - cavetown

falling for u - peachy! & mxmtoon

best friend - laufey

let me down slowly - alec benjamin

anxiety - blackbear & FRND

training wheels - melanie martinez

like or like like - miniature tigers

would you be so kind - dodie

i like me better - lauv

nothing - bruno major

paper rings - taylor swift

puppy princess - hot freaks

i wanna be your boyfriend - hot freaks

let's fall in love for the night - FINNEAS

every summertime - NIKI

cloud 9 - beach bunny

wish you were gay - billie eilish

wish you were sober - conan gray

the king - conan gray

sports - beach bunny

say you won't let go - james arthur

fight or flight - conan gray

are you bored yet? - wallows & clairo

heather - conan gray

cruel summer - taylor swift

comfort crowd - conan gray

lemon boy - cavetown

apocalypse - cigarettes after sex

can i call you tonight? - dayglow

this is home - cavetown

everybody talks - neon trees

someone to you - BANNERS

i love you - billie eilish

this side of paradise - coyote theory

mystery of love - sufjan stevens

always forever - cults

silence - marshmello & khalid

safe & sound (taylor's version) - taylor swift, joy williams & john paul white

safe and sound - capital cities

sweet tooth - cavetown

astronomy - conan gray

me and my husband - mitski

my love mine all mine - mitski

as the world caves in - sarah cothran

strawberries & cigarettes - troye sivan

pierre - ryn weaver

eyes closed - ed sheeran

perfect - ed sheeran

photograph - ed sheeran

can't help falling in love - elvis presley

talk to me - cavetown

we fell in love in october - girl in red

hey there delilah - plain white t's

crush culture - conan gray

for him. - troye sivan & allday

make you mine - PUBLIC

loving is easy - rex orange county & benny sings

i hear a symphony - cody fry

daylight - taylor swift

wildest dreams (taylor's version) - taylor swift

juliet - cavetown

this is what falling in love feels like - JVKE

this is what heartbreak feels like - JVKE

what was i made for? - from "barbie" - billie eilish

reflections - the neighbourhood

oh no! - MARINA

cabo - ricky montgomery

partners in crime - set it off & ash costello

it took me by surprise - maria mena

seventeen - MARINA

this december - ricky montgomery

never ever getting rid of me - waitress original broadway cast

guys dont like me - it boys!

deja vu - olivia rodrigo

drivers license - olivia rodrigo

1 step forward, 3 steps back - olivia rodrigo

bad idea right? - olivia rodrigo

teenage dream - olivia rodrigo

meant to be yours - ryan mccartan, barrett wilbert weed & michelle duffy

verbatim - mother mother

lovers rock - TV girl

lover - taylor swift

freaks - surf curse

electric love - BØRNS

sure thing - miguel

ribs - lorde

sofia - clairo

boys will be bugs - cavetown

i wanna be your girlfriend - girl in red

people watching - conan gray

as the world caves in - matt maltese

two birds - regina spektor

i can't handle change - roar

cardigan - taylor swift

pretty boy - the neighbourhood

cigarette daydreams - cage the elephant

history hates lovers - oublaire

numb little bug - em beihold

where's my love - SYML

dark red - steve lacy

heart to heart - mac demarco

chamber of reflection - mac demarco

for the first time - mac demarco

my kind of woman - mac demarco

kids - current joys

christmas kids - roar

10 things i hate about you - leah kate

boyfriend - dove cameron

my blood - twenty one pilots

my blood - ellie goulding

drumming song - florence + the machine

you belong with me (taylor's version) - taylor swift

sparks fly (taylor's version) - taylor swift

enchanted (taylor's version) - taylor swift

i knew you were trouble (taylor's version) - taylor swift

all too well (10 minute version - taylor's version) - taylor swift

don't blame me - taylor swift

gorgeous - taylor swift

bags - clairo

open arms - SZA & travis scott

all i wanted - paramore

the great war - taylor swift

i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys

afterglow - taylor swift

you get me so high - the neighbourhood

runaway runaway - lullaby layla & keevin

the night we met - lord huron

watercolor eyes - from "euphoria" - lana del rey

late night talking - harry styles

shameless - camila cabello

those eyes - new west

here with me - d4vd

golden hour - JVKE

what a time - julia michaels & niall horan

we belong together - ritchie valens

can't take my eyes off you - frankie valli

i like you (a happier song) - post malone & doja cat

sweater weather - the neighbourhood

K. - cigarettes after sex

out of my league - fitz and the tantrums

until i found you - stephen sanchez & em beihold

loverboy - a-wall

set fire to the rain - adele

mrs magic - strawberry guy

je te laisserai des mots - patrick watson

rises the moon - liana flores

last dance - scratch massive & maud geffray

crush - cigarettes after sex

trust fund baby - why don't we

hooked - why don't we

jenny (i wanna ruin our friendship) - studio killers

not another song about love - hollywood ending

the red means i love you - madds buckley

i won't say (i'm in love) - disney cast from "hercules"

first love/late spring - mitski

love grows (where my rosemary goes) - edison lighthouse

stereo hearts - gym class heroes & adam levine

did i mention - cast from "descendants"

bad romance - lady gaga

sunsetz - cigarettes after sex

still into you - paramore

i kissed a boy - jupither

bang bang (new version) - K'NAAN & adam levine

dress - taylor swift

midnight rain - taylor swift

baby i'm yours - arctic monkeys

falling - chase atlantic

say yes to heaven - lana del rey

cry - cigarettes after sex

sweet - cigarettes after sex

my type - saint motel

they don't know about us - one direction

something just like this - the chainsmokers & coldplay

no one compares to you - jack & jack

yellow hearts - ant saunders

if we have each other - alec benjamin

hey stupid, i love you - JP saxe

if i saw him, i'd still kiss him - mccafferty

i love you like an alcoholic - the taxpayers

i am falling for you - loving caliber

dream boy - waterparks

disaster - conan gray

@ my worst - blackbear

golden - harry styles

start a riot - BANNERS

i love you - woodkid

maniac - conan gray

there is more in the spotify playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/08jACx5UDxnojbTv4I5NR0

if you have any other recommendations for songs please let me know and they will go straight into the playlist. also, please don't be disrespectful and this is a reminder that these are my opinions, i hope that you enjoy the playlist!! ❤️🧡💋

[silviakundera]

aug objective: actually finish Meng Xi Shi's Fourteenth Year of Chenghua

I've started and stopped it twice before, but that was due to the english translation not being complete at the time.

Starting over from the beginning and I forgot how much I enjoyed him adopting the lil 8 year old to be his sister and them actually becoming like real siblings ❤❤ and then badass Brocade Guard boss basically moves him in and wifes him up without him noticing. I love how clear it is that the 3 of them have a richer, happier life together as a family. It's not dramatic & angsty, it's just subtle undertones cushioning the plot - just them becoming a warm & safe home for each other.

I also enjoy all the ancient china crime solving. A classic mystery fan, I grew up on Agatha Christie. After reading half-way the last time, I went looking a translation of The Celebrated Cases of Judge Dee (and then got sucked into late Qing/Republican true crime Murders of Old China by Paul French).

Random highlighted passages so far...

[Tang Fan finds himself in possession of an 8 year old]

“Can you take me in, Sir Tang? I’ll be really hardworking, and not give you any trouble. I don’t want to go to Nanjing, I don’t know the Young Lord that well!”

Tang Fan didn’t know how to react. “You being willing to come cook is fine by me, but the question is: will Young Lord Li be willing to let you go?”

Hearing that his tone had relaxed, she suddenly got excited. “He will, he will! I heard the steward say that the house has too many people in it right now, and they won’t need so many later on. Isn’t that them being eager to lose a few? I eat a lot and don’t work that much, so they would definitely be willing to let me go and wreck someone else’s house!”

“…” Is it really good for you to be that frank?

Ah-Dong stuck out her tongue. “I misspoke, I misspoke! Me being too happy is all to blame. Don’t take it to heart at all, I’m actually great! Just pretend that you didn’t hear what I said right then!”

[Tang Fan finds himself on a date (without knowing he's on a date) and then moved into his date's house. Sui Zhao is efficient like that.]

He took a long detour, and when he leisurely got back home, he discovered that someone was already standing at his gate — wasn’t that Centarch Sui?

“If I had known before that you would be here so early, I would have come back first thing so that you wouldn’t be standing in wait at the entrance!” Tang Fan promptly sped up towards him, an apologetic smile on his face. “It’s no problem,” Sui Zhou answered.

Tang Fan found that he was also carrying some food.

“My home is far from yours, so I’ll just stay with you for tonight. Do you mind?”

“Ah? I don’t mind, I don’t mind! My break is tomorrow, so we can talk through the night by candlelight!”

Mister Tang lived the legendary bachelor life to its entirety. ... “Where did you buy this crispy tofu? And why is it so delicious?” he wondered. “I had some ingredients at home,” Sui Zhou answered concisely. “You can cook?” Mister Tang was wholly shocked. Sui Zhou gave a rare hook of the lips, saying nothing. A few breaths later, Tang Fan was still soaking in his shocked emotions. “Brother Guangchuan, you can actually cook? That’s really, really, really…” He ‘really’ed for half the day, but didn’t get out what the ‘really’ was about. Then, a rapid knock echoed in from outside the door. “That’s really too amazing!” Tang Fan took in a deep breath. ...

“Since you’re in such contradiction with the Li’s, what are you going to do about housing?”

Tang Fan hadn’t told him the thing about him currently looking for board everywhere, but he still took note of it. His meticulous mind was apparent.

“The capital is big, and there’s a lot of rooms. I’ll likely be able to find some.”

Sui Zhou thought about this for a moment. “If you want, you can come live with me.”

Tang Fan was taken aback. “Is… that alright? Wouldn’t your wife be upset?”

“I haven’t yet taken a wife,” Sui Zhou replied coldly.

“There has to be someone like a wife, right…?”

Sui Zhou was not pleased. “I haven’t accepted any concubines, nor slipshod maidservants.

Before Tang Fan could ask anything else, he proceeded to say, “My parents live with my eldest brother. I moved out on my own. Don’t worry about that.”

With all that said, since the other was inviting him there in good faith, it would be poor of Tang Fan to decline again. He ended up clasping his hands together, saying with sincerity, “I’ll bother you for now, then, Brother Guangchuan!”

[Sui Zhao continues marrying in Tang Fan]

" Furthermore,” he paused to look at Tang Fan, icy expression finally suffused with a trace of helplessness, “you’re a Dynasty-ordained official that’s run off to write an anonymous book like that. If that gets out, your reputation likely won’t be kept.”

Tang Fan chuckled. “What’s wrong with doing it? It’s not just me, but a lot of people in Court that do this, too. No one can tell who’s who with pen names, anyways. How could somebody support their family otherwise? Relying on salary alone? If they don’t want to be corrupt, they can only take a different approach..."

“I have a salary.”

Tang Fan just kept going. “Wouldn’t you say so, Guangchuan… eh? What’d you say?”

“I have a salary. No need to worry.”

...Hearing what he said, Tang Fan was stunned for a while, after which he started to laugh wildly. He ended up having to support himself on Sui Zhou’s shoulder in order to keep steady, rubbing his own stomach in pain. “Ouch… well, then, us siblings will depend on you from now on, Centarch Sui. Once I use up all my salary, you’ll have to help me out!” “Mn.” Tang Fan still couldn’t resist wanting to laugh, but he was a bit touched, as well. He knew that not everyone was capable of making the man say stuff like this. //

“Today is a family banquet, second brother. The Old Madam said not to bring outsiders, so why did you bring someone we don’t know? There’s women here, too! He’s not even someone close enough to be considered family! You’re really being too careless!”

The speaker was the wife of Sui Zhou’s older brother, Lady Jiao.

... As soon as she was done, [Sui Zhou] gave her an indifferent answer: “From now on, he’s to be considered family.”

Those words were so authoritarian, no one could say anything for a moment. They all stared at Sui Zhou.

// “How would Ah-Dong be able to hold you back?” he asked. “From now on, after you get your salary of grains and cash from your paper money, hand half of it over to me. I’ll safeguard it for you. If you ever need to spend more after using up what you have on hand, you’ll need to justify that to me first. You can use it only after I agree to it.”

Sui Zhou had never been fond of meddling in others’ business. Almost all of said business that he had cared about in this lifetime had come from Tang Fan’s head.

It was fortunate that they had the kind of relationship they had. If someone else had been ordered to do this, they would feel it difficult to understand, and might even turn hostile. Someone like Mister Tang, who was different from the average person, just nodded with delight. “That’s great! With you stopping me, I won’t spend so recklessly!”

From that point on, Millarch Sui not only had a heap of things to look after in the Northern Bastion Office, but also had to help Mister Tang manage his money when he returned home. He truly did wield total power, both foreignly and domestically — how very envy-inducing!

[samueldays]

Journalism delenda est, continued

If Fox News really were the right-wing hate-machine that Democrats love to imagine, Fox could spin off a channel with a name like Blacks Behaving Badly, which would be simply continuous coverage of murders and rapes committed by blacks.

Blacks Behaving Badly could easily get 24-hour material of constantly new crimes by giving merely an hour to each black murder or black rape, because blacks commit those crimes about hourly in America. (Compare the way left-wing press is still bleating about Emmett Till.) The information on BBB would all be true, of course, and the channel would be dedicated to covering some matters and not others, which is inevitable because every TV channel has to make some decisions about what to include of the millions of events that happen every day.

It would still be a wicked, shit-stirring, hate-inciting, no good, very bad, racebait channel with a chronic shortage of redeeming features, whose selective coverage would be obviously malicious.

I bring up this hypothetical construct as a point of comparison for the wicked bit of shit-stirring racebait and so forth that recently came out of Reuters in real life: a special report on how U.S. leaders have slaveholding ancestors. Chronic shortage of redeeming features.

Shoddy's line pretty much sums it up, but let's look at the special report a bit more.

In a special bit of adding insult to injury, it violates usability guidelines by hijacking scroll commands (mousewheel, arrow keys, etc) before we get to the main content. Here is the page as it looks when it first loads:

And here is the page as it looks after I hit the Page Down key:

These self-important theater kids made a fucking unskippable opening cutscene out of a fucking webpage. The Down arrow key does nothing here. The Page Down key pressed a second time merely advances the gradually revealing text by two lines, while changing the image's highlight. Page Down should skip me past the fucking image-video-hybrid-animation and move me down the page.

Then we get to the content. I shall excerpt and quote full paragraphs here.

More than 100 U.S. leaders – lawmakers, presidents, governors and justices – have slaveholding ancestors, a Reuters examination found. Few are willing to talk about their ties to America's “original sin”

Everyone Has Slaveholding Ancestors.

I can forgive the tweeter for being space-constrained and having to drop terms that can be inferred from context. The text in the full report (not headline), a page down, has no such excuse. Perhaps you say "it's obvious what they mean from context", but I assure you, it is not in fact obvious and the clarification further down is not the obvious one.

Many lawmakers need look no further than their own family histories to find a much more personal connection to slavery in America, a brutal system of oppression that resulted in the deadliest conflict in U.S. history.

Second deadliest, unless something very odd happened with WW2 since last time I checked. (Perhaps they're using a special metric like "deaths on American soil", I imagine.)

In researching the genealogies of America’s political elite, a Reuters examination found that a fifth of the nation’s congressmen, living presidents, Supreme Court justices and governors are direct descendants of ancestors who enslaved Black people.

And here's a clarification of "slaveholding ancestors", three fucking pages into the special report: ancestors who enslaved the Reverentially Capitalized Race. Doesn't count if they enslaved Persons of Pallor.

Except that paragraph is still wrong, descriptively and normatively. We'll see further down in the report that it's not counting the Africans who enslaved other Africans, such as Ayuba Suleiman Diallo. Or the extensive history of Islamic slavery, which via Andalusian intermarriage to the Spanish royal family and from there to the American colonies, results in a great many more descendants of people who enslaved persons-of-the-favored-race. Reuters put a great deal of work into studying a subject it frequently contradicts itself about the bounds of.

In addition, President Joe Biden and every living former U.S. president – except Donald Trump – are direct descendants of slaveholders: Jimmy Carter, George W. Bush, Bill Clinton and – through his white mother’s side – Barack Obama. Trump’s ancestors came to America after slavery was abolished.

This is racebait, journalism delenda est, everyone who wrote this should be banned from public communication.

Two of the nine sitting U.S. Supreme Court justices – Amy Coney Barrett and Neil Gorsuch – also have direct ancestors who enslaved people.

Everyone has direct ancestors who enslaved people.

I am going to keep harping on this for as long as Reuters keeps playing fast and loose with words. This special report online does not have the space constraints of a physical newspaper, nor does it have the time constraints of having to report on urgent news with a deadline tomorrow. It is written by supposedly professional wordsmiths with alleged editors and so-called fact-checkers. It has the leisure to get things right. It's welcome to use shorthand after getting things right (and preferably noting the shorthand), but Reuters has not gotten it right yet and will continue to contradict itself.

South Carolina, where the Civil War began, illustrates the familial ties between the American political elite and the nation’s history of slavery. Every member of the state’s nine-person delegation to the last Congress has an ancestral link. The state’s two Black members of Congress – Senator and Republican presidential candidate Tim Scott and Representative James Clyburn, a powerful Democrat – have forebears who were enslaved. Each of the seven white lawmakers who served in the 117th Congress is a direct descendant of a slaveholder, Reuters found. So too is the state’s Republican governor, Henry McMaster.

I assure you that everyone involved here has forebears who were enslaved and is the direct descendant of a slaveholder. If you're going to contrast the two, get the specifics right.

This is racebait, journalism delenda est, everyone who wrote this should be banned from public communication and have a finger cut off as a continual reminder of their sins.

There's a bunch of specific people and degree of relation listed. I'll skip past them to see where Reuters is fucking around again.

A Reuters/Ipsos poll for this report suggests that a politician’s links to slavery might sway some voters. In a national survey, almost a quarter of respondents – 23% – said knowing that a candidate’s ancestors enslaved people would make them less likely to vote for that candidate. That number rose to 31% among respondents who identified as Democrats, and 35% among Black respondents. What’s unclear is how significant the topic is compared to race relations more broadly or other hot-button issues such as abortion.

Bold mine, Reuters really cannot keep this straight, this does not match their previous special report statements, and it also doesn't match the wording that was actually used in the poll. The poll respondents weren't given this whole special report for implicit context when they were asked:

“Would knowing that a political candidate’s ancestors or family members owned slaves in America make you more or less likely to vote for them?”

Journalism

Delenda

Est.

[joels-golf-club]

Hiii!!! I have a request

Can you write something with heavy angst at the beginning like maybe a fight? And at the end super super fluffy!!! Any Pedro characters!! (Preferably whiskey or pena)

Complicated

A/n: Thanks for the request anon! I decided heavy angst meant HEAVY angst so here you go. It isn't exactly what you requested but this kinda popped into my head when I read your request and I really wanted to write it, I'm sorry. This is my first Javier Peña fic so pls have some grace <3!

Word Count: 3K

All my work is 18+, MDI!!!

Warnings: Swearing, typical Narcos violence, hurt/comfort, kidnapping, torture, real angsty, kinda fluff at the end jk I can't write fluff apparently, mentions of drinking and smoking, poorly translated Spanish (google translate 😃), no use of Y/n, attempted/talk of SA.

Your relationship with Javier Peña was complicated to say the least. You weren't officially together but there were two toothbrushes in his bathroom, there was a drawer full of your clothes in his dresser, and your coat was hanging by his front door.

He made breakfast for you most mornings and you'd kiss him goodbye when he left for work, but you weren't dating. You loved him but you've never said it to each other.

That was the worst part. You practically lived at his apartment and you feared for his life every single fucking day he went to work, but God forbid he put a damn label on whatever you were. So that's how the argument started.

"You don't need to risk your life every fucking day Javi! The world won't end if you just relax for one goddamn second!" Every single day Javi would come home black and blue. Today he came home with a fractured nose and bruises littering his body from a run in with one of Escobar sicarios.

"Why the fuck do you care? You're not my wife! You're not even my girlfriend! You're nothing to me!" The moment those words left his mouth he immediately backtracked. "Querida, I'm so sorry, I didn't me-"

But it was too late you were already walking to the door to grab your keys and pull on your shoes. "No, Javier. You're right. We aren't dating no reason I should give a damn about you. See you around." The door slammed behind you as you walked away and down the apartment complex to your car parked out front.

Your solution to the hurt radiating throughout you was to head to the nearest bar and get shit faced. Javier would've had your ass for going out and getting drunk alone in the crime capital of the world but who the hell was he to tell you what to do. Especially after what he said when you tried to show concern for him.

So here you were sitting alone at the bar, well past midnight, and probably three too many drinks deep. Getting home was the issue at hand now. Home. That should've been Javier's apartment filled with both of your belongings. The two of you should've been intertwined in bed right about now, connected in the most intimate way.

But instead you were drunk, alone, and extremely vulnerable. All because Javier fucking Peña couldn't find it in himself to commit to one person after over a year of almost dating.

As you made a move to walk out the bar and back towards the car you almost immediately stumbled just standing up, no way in hell were you driving across town to your apartment.

Walking wasn't an option either. There were already three men outside the bar looking at you in a way that was much more than just friendly.

There was only one person you could call no matter how much you wanted to avoid it.

He picked up on the third ring. "Hermosa? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean anything I said you know that right?" He immediately started spewing apologies the moment he answered the phone.

"Javier, I don't really care right now? I'm drunk, really drunk and there's these guys that aren't too far away from me and I can't drive."

"Where are you, Carino?" You gave him the address and you could hear him grab his keys and slam the door. "Stay where you are and stay on the phone ok? Do not hang up."

You nodded before remembering he couldn't see you. "Ok. " You kept an eye on the three men and couldn't help but notice they were closer than before, they had now crossed the road over to your side of the street. "Javi?"

"What is it? I'm 30 minutes away."

"Javi they're getting closer." You gasped when a flash of metal lit up in the dim streetlight. "Javi they have guns. What do I do? They have fucking guns Javi." You were panicking now and the men were only getting closer. Javier wouldn't be able to do shit in half an hour if the men decided to use their weapons.

"Lock your doors. Do not open the doors. Can you drive at all?"

You're gaze darted around and sent your head spinning. "No. Javi I can't drive! I'm so fucking stupid why would I get drunk right now? Javi what if they try to d-"

The sound of your voice over the phone was cut off by a scream and loud gunshots ringing through the line.

Javi gripped the wheel and pressed the pedal down to the floor while shouting your name. "Hey! What happened? Answer me please!" He called your name again before the line went dead. "Joder que hago? ¿Qué debo hacer? Fuck, what do I do? What do I do?"

With sweating palms and a racing pulse he called Murphy for backup.

After the men shattered your windows with bullets, they roughly yanked you out of your car, uncaring of any cuts or scrapes you got from all the broken glass, and shoved you through the doorway of the house across the street they had sat in front of earlier.

The entirety of the short walk there was spent with you fighting tooth and nail to get out of their grasp while the men felt you up through the tight dress you wore. Their dirty hands grabbed and pulled at every available inch of skin they could reach while you tried to kick and bite at their skin.

"Deja de pelear o te paso una bala por el cerebro! Stop fighting or I put a bullet through your brain!" The press of cold metal against your temple had you freezing where you stood before you were roughly shoved into a chair with the gun still pointed at your skull, keeping you still.

You tried to remember what Javi had told you to do if you were ever in one of these situations. "Do whatever they say, Hermosa. If they ask you what you know, you do not tell them anything. They will kill you the moment they don't need you anymore. Wait for the right moment if you can to fight." Right. Do what they say. Don't answer questions. You could do that.

The man with the gun came closer to you and caressed your face with the back of his hand causing you to jerk away as far as you could. The man's gaze narrowed and he backhanded you across the side of your face, sending you to the ground with your ears ringing. "Don't be a bitch. I'll have to teach you a lesson, then I'll let them have a turn with you, Hermosa." The pet name sent a fresh wave of sobs through your body at the memory of Javi calling you that only hours earlier and the man straddled your thrashing form then pulled out a knife from his jean pocket and cut away at what little remained of your torn dress and undergarments, leaving you entirely exposed to the three men while you fought beneath him.

"Stop! No, don't! Please stop!" You begged as tears flowed down your cheeks and you kicked uselessly a the man pinning you down.

"I told you to stop moving!" The man swung his fist down across your jaw, sending black dots flooding across your vision and make your ears ring once again. "Now hold still or this is gonna be so much worse for you." The man released his grip on your arms to reach for his belt, only for another man to send his boot into your ribs causing you to curl away and let out a wheezing cough.

Just as the man got his button and zipper undone and leaned over you once again you let out a scream and threw your throbbing head forward into the man's nose making a river a blood flow down his face. "You fucking bitch!" He sent his boot into your side again, making your curl up into a ball and gestured to his two men. "Tie her to the chair. Make sure she stays conscious, I want her to know what happened.

The man's words sent your eyes flying open and you immediately kicked and screamed at the hands that grabbed at your bruising arms. "No! Stop! Please, please I'm sorry! I'll do whatever you say, please!" Your screams and begging only brought a sadistic smile to the first man's face when we held up the knife he had earlier and brought the tip to your bare ribs.

He trailed the blade with just enough pressure to draw blood down to your exposed stomach and pressed the tip deeper into your skin and dragged the blade down, forcing a scream from your throat. He did this a few more times before he pulled the bloody knife away from your stomach and up to your cheeks to cut a deep line across both. He leaned forward to whisper in your ear while his hands roamed your bare body, "You look much prettier with that. Look at your pretty little stomach, Hermosa." He forced you to look down at where he had cut into your skin and your sobbed at the markings left there, AJS; the man had carved his fucking initials into your stomach.

Just as the man grabbed at your body again deafening gunshots rang out and the man's body slumped forward against your own while blood from his head and chest spilled across your skin. The two other men barely had enough time to raise their own weapons before more gunshots sounded and they slumped to the floor as well.

You looked down at the body in your bare lap and your tormentor's blank eyes stared back at you. You let out a scream and yanked at your bindings in an attempt to get away from the body, but you only managed to thrash enough to knock your chair backwards and fall to the side when you heard thundering footsteps rush into the room. You forced your eyes as closed as tight as they would go in an effort to ignore what you new was sitting right in front of you. Your body wouldn't stop shaking.

Suddenly hands were on your bare skin and you let out another piercing scream, unable to process the much more familiar grasp that pulled you upright and cut away the ropes on your wrists and ankles. "Shh, Hermosa, it's me. It's Javi." You were still shaking and sobbing when he pulled his jacket off to cover your exposed body and you still wouldn't open your eyes open from their sealed position. "Look at me, Hermosa, look at me."

You finally pealed your eyes open at his soft voice and saw the man kneeling in front of you. "Javi?"

He nodded and made sure your gaze stayed on him when he lifted you up out of the chair. "Yeah it's me, hermosa. You're okay now. you're safe."

At the sound of that name you flinched and new tears sprung to your eyes. "Please don't call me that anymore. H-he called me that."

Javi's jaw clenched and anger flared in his brown eyes but he nodded and continued walking you out of the house to where an ambulance sat outside the building. He set you down on the back of the open vehicle so the medics nearby could check you over but you gripped his hand as hard as you could the moment he let go of you.

"Please don't leave me alone, I can't be alone right now." Your hand shakes where it grips his and you can't help but stare at the cuts and bruises littering the skin there. It all seemed much more real now that you could see the marks on your skin. Your skin. The man had carved his fucking initials into your skin. You looked down and moved Javi's jacket away from your stomach to stare down at where your hip began. Blood covered the wound but you knew what was there. You lifted your hand to try and reveal the marks in a moment of morbid curiosity but-

"Querida, don't." Javi's voice pulled you from your thoughts. "I'll stay with you however long you need, but you can't touch it. Try not to look at it if that helps, alright? Estarás bien, te lo prometo. You'll be okay, I promise." You just nodded and Javi held your hands while the medic checked you over and cleaned and bandaged your wounds.

The medic informed you that you shouldn't be left alone for a few days and that you'd have to change your bandages twice a day, but you were cleared to go without having to go to the hospital.

"You'll be ok staying with me right, querida? You can't be alone and I don't want you out of my sights." You nodded silently to answer his question which only made him furrow his brows and concern took over his face, but he said nothing and just guided you over to his jeep.

The two of you drove in silence for about ten minutes before you spoke for the first time in well over an hour. "Javi?"

"Sí?"

You swallowed hard and stared down at your still shaking hands. Why won't they stop shaking? "I'm sorry for all this. If I didn't try to be so controlling with you earlier and if I didn't go and get drunk like a fucking idiot you wouldn't had to have dealt with me and-"

"Darling. Stop it. Stop thinking for one second that any of this is your fault. You aren't controlling, you care and I didn't know how to act because of it and that is no excuse for any of the absolute shit I said, by the way. And you aren't an idiot, you are the smartest person I know and you just did what anyone would do after a long day. The only people to blame are the hijos de puta that did this to you. So please, darling, for both our sakes don't blame yourself." He had just pulled up to your apartment when he stopped speaking and he parked before turning to face you.

Tears streamed down your face and the tight feeling in your chest was back from earlier and your fucking hands wouldn't stop shaking. "He marked me, Javi..." You whispered in between sobs as your shoulders shook. You looked up just to see Javi's face fall apart.

"He did what?" His voice came out a broken whisper full of pain for you.

"He marked me! He took a knife and carved his goddamn initials into my skin! He made sure it would scar so that I can't ever forget! What kind of sick fucking psycho does that shit?" Your sobs came faster and Javi hopped out of the car and ran to your door, pulling you into his arms.

"Baby, I'm so fucking sorry. I know that doesn't do shit, but you didn't deserve a single second of what you went through. You know that right?" You nodded and let him pull you out of the car as he ushered you upstairs to his apartment.

Once the door was closed and locked behind you two, you steeled yourself and forced away your tears before turning to face Javi again. You would not waste anymore tears on the fucker who did this to you, he didn't even deserve a thought. You wanted to set things right between you and Javi and if what happened today is what that takes, so be it."Javi. I love you, and I'm sick of your shit."

Shock filled the man's face across from you and he shook his head. This was the first time saying those words to him and the circumstance seemed less than ideal. "Querida what are you saying?"

"I love you so goddamn much and I know you love me and you just won't say it. I will not stick around if it's going to be more of the same as what it has been. You will either take me on a date when I'm over all this bullshit and make what we are official, or I'm getting my stuff and leaving." You stared Javi dead in the eyes and narrowed your gaze when his face split into a grin and he let out a short bark of laughter.

"There you are, baby."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Javi just grinned wider and shook his head before he wrapped you in his arms and pressed a kiss to your temple. You melted into his grasp but confusion still filled you.

"You've had this... this look on your face after everything like you're not quite here but you are now. That's great, baby. And just so we're clear, I will take you on a date the second you are feeling up to it. Then I will take you back here and you can officially move in after I spend hours making up for everything stupid thing I have done or said to you." His voice had taken on a slight seductive whisper at the end that sent a small shiver through you and you grinned as you wrapped your bruised arms around him.

"That sounds perfect, Javi. Now let go of me because I really need a fucking shower or I'm never going on that date with you." The reminder of the blood and grime still on you from the events of the night made you shudder and the mood changed instantly but Javi just nodded and squeezed your hand in reassurance as he walked with you towards the bathroom. He would be with you through everything and he would help you get through this.