#or that uttering threats of violence is also illegal

[tehri]

Every now and then, I glance at the calendar and realise that it's only January and I've only had this job for 2 months, and then I need to take a few deep breaths and try to stop myself from entering a stress- and sleep deprivation-induced depression-spiral because it's only been 2 months and I have 4 months left

then I kind of want to cry because there are 4 months left

when they said this was a Very Difficult class, they were not fucking joking

[multiscribe]

Title: Just Like Daddy

Fandom: Daredevil

Characters : Matt murdock /female reader little mini Matt (you’ll see)

Rating: soft R for cannon typical violence and cursing and maybe some flirting

Notes: inspired by this pic I saw this morning-done in one day special thanks to @hellskitchens-whore for the inspiration

In memory of my darling Sammie who would fit right in with Matt

“Let me get you some excedrin honey” you whispered as you rose from the edge of the bed trying to be as quiet as possible.

Your husband Matt Murdock the devil of Hell’s Kitchen was having a rare night off. Not because he wanted to of course but migraine’s as a rule fucking sucked donkey eggs.

It had been a whirlwind courtship between the two of you but even Karen and Foggy could see just how far gone he was. And when you knew you knew right?

So it surprised no one when a year to the day you two broke the news that you were expecting your first child.

Of course there had been some heartbreak when you learned your little girl would never be able to see like normal kids. And it had taken some extraordinary prodding from you to bring Matt back from the utter ocean of Catholic guilt he had been wallowing in.

‘Teach her to defend herself Matt teach her how to fight like you do so we never have to worry’

Famous fucking last words as you would soon learn.

Because your baby girl took to it like a duck to water and these days when she wasn’t working on her homework she’d usually be up at Fogwell’s with Matt either helping him train or training herself

Even Stick had taken a liking to her.

By the time she was 4 and a half you two had learned that her senses far outpaced those of her father.

But she’d been content to do normal little girl things. Like paint Auntie Karen’s nails or braid uncle foggy’s hair.

Until tonight.

Until tonight Matt had never come down with a migraine so bad it stopped him from going out to his ‘night job’.

Gently pressing the two pills into his left hand and water bottle into his right you whispered “I’m gonna go check on her then I’ll come to bed okay?”

He had barely taken his meds when your panicked cry sent him rushing toward your daughter’s bedroom.

She was gone

Glass on the floor and perfume winding through the room. Someone knew they knew about her abilities and his.

He could only pull you close as the devil in him seethed and raged. Someone was going to pay dearly for having taken their little girl.

He had called Karen and Foggy to come sit with you in case she managed to find her way back. He also didn’t trust whoever took her to not swing back and try and snatch you too.

What he ‘saw’ down by the docks was not something he expected and a ton of emotions hit him at once

Pride

Shock

Worry

Fear

Relief

Because leaping silently from container to container there was his daughter.

She was dressed in a miniature replica of his black outfit and some pleased part of him saw that she’d remembered to wrap her hands.

He took off after her having to catch himself several times from stepping in. All that training with Stick had done her good. You were gonna kill the pair of them of course but that was a fight for another day.

She had found an illegal dog fighting ring and had beaten the fighters to a bloody pulp. This was no surprise to him as she LOVED dogs and you and he were discussing the merits of getting your daughter a service dog prospect for Christmas.

However hearing the unmistakable scrape of metal that signaled a gun being raised had him reaching for his Billie club.

But as it happened she didnt need his help

Because before he could even throw it there was a huge hulking black shepherd that launched herself out of the darkness and latched her teeth onto the man’s arm drawing a scream from him.

Once all of the threats were down he heard his daughter call softly to the dog who dropped the man’s arm before she could rip it off and came to sit by her side.

He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that when he approached there was an ominous sounding snarl from the dog.

The devil in him smirked. It seemed they found her Christmas present early

“It’s okay girl..that’s my daddy” before finally she stepped around the dog and launched herself into his arms

“God baby do you know how scared you made your mommy and I?” He knows he should loosen his grip but she’s here and real and safe thank you god above for protecting my little girl

“Didn’t mean to” she whispers against his shoulder “you was sick daddy people needed help. I was careful like uncle stick taught me”

Oh he was SO gonna kick Stick’s ass the next time he saw him!

“How many people did you help tonight baby?”

He felt her tiny lips curl into a smile “well I stopped some bad men from taking an old lady’s purse. I helped another lady when the guy she was with he was gonna hit her-you said a man should NEVER hit a woman that it’s..illegal? In the state of New York”

Matt could feel the tears pricking at his eyes. God when had his daughter gotten so smart?and so brave?

“That’s right baby what else?”

She leaned up looking thoughtful “well I thought I should come home soon and I was on my way I promise!! But then I heard someone hurting doggies so I came down here.. they kicked one and they hurt it bad so I made THEM hurt instead. Then you found me!”

Matt exhaled gently before setting her on her feet “right now little miss there’s gonna be some ground rules. First you do not leave the house without me understood?You scared me and your momma half to death when we couldn’t find you. Second your grades fall even a little this?is done” she gave a silent nod “okay daddy” he could tell she was confused so he softened a little “your grandpa Jack had the same rules for me.He didn’t want me to fight but kinda like you I found my way into it but not til much later”

She tilted her head “what’s rule 3 daddy?” He chuckled softly “you have to apologize to your momma for worrying her”

She nodded “Kay I didn’t mean to honest! But I’ll ‘pologize can we keep Sammie?”

How could he say no to his angel?

The trek back was slower on foot as both had to slow down to allow Sammie to keep pace. She had some glass shards in her foot that would be cleaned up as soon as the chaos died down.

The sound of the roof door opening had you running for the stairs before Karen or Foggy could stop you

“Mommy!!” A sob tore from you as your daughter launched herself into your arms

“Baby are you hurt?where were you what happened?” It took you a minute to process what you were seeing

Your daughter pulling the black mask off her dark hair tumbling down her shoulders in a mess of curls

You looked to Matt silently questioning caught between relief and pure mamma bear rage

“I found her by the docks. She wasn’t taken she just wanted to help out. We already laid some strict ground rules” because you knew she was as stubborn as your husband -at least this way you knew she would be safe as she could be.

“Oh and this is Sammie” the shepherd eyed you warily before drawing closer for a sniff. When she learned that you were related she merely laid down at your feet with a tired huff and rolled over on her back demanding belly rubs

You had a love of dogs too especially Shepherds so it was no real question there. But it took you a moment before you realized what Matt had said and looked to your daughter who smiled “the bad man was gonna try and hurt me with his gun..but she protected me. Just like you said ‘member?”

At that you fully broke embracing both Matt and your daughter fiercely.

You had told her that story when she was first learning how to be respectful of other animals. How when you were at your lowest long before you met Matt that you had a pure black shepherd who was insanely protective of you. When you had suffered being homeless not once but twice in the cold Pennsylvania winter she was the only thing that kept you going.

And how someone had placed a call to animal control and she had been taken away.. for good

A nudge under your arm drew your attention. The resemblance was uncanny but it couldn’t be.. you were told she had been put down as she had seemingly out of the blue turned vicious and it had broken you.

A little bit of gray on her muzzle she’d be the right age..

“Sammie..babygirl?” When you were knocked back onto the floor by a black missle of fur and began to weep hysterically at first Matt was concerned.

But then he picked up your words between sobs “it’s you! Oh my god it’s you! My darling oh god how oh I don’t care!”

Matt pulled his daughter up onto his lap his own mask discarded and smiled at his daughter’s questioning look “you know I was thinking she was gonna be your service dog…but do you think you could share with mommy?” The little girl nodded “sure! Why’s mommy crying though?”

Matt smiled and kissed her temple “despite you scaring us half to death…you made a miracle happen sweetie… that IS Sammie”

Your daughter’s eyes widened almost comically and soon the three of you were on the floor together alongside Karen and Foggy being covered in kisses and the occasional paw to the face (you’d allow it this once she was happy to be home after all!)

You leaned over whispering to Matt “I’m still gonna kick Stick’s ass the next time I see him”

Matt smirked and pulled you close for a kiss “gotta beat me to it first sweetheart”

The End

[petri808]

We’ll Take Back Heaven a Nalu Yakuza Au

1 | 2

—

The moment Lucy left the room, Natsu simply turned and gave a silent look to his lieutenant Gray who nodded back in acknowledgment and left with one of the men. He sat back in his chair, fingers steepled below his chin in thought. Could it really be one of his own men? Some of the lower level guys didn’t always follow the rules, but it was rare for them to utterly disregard them! Oh! That really pissed him off, because they knew better then to test Natsu’s patience. There’s a damn good reason he was able to create such a lucrative gang in the heart of Tokyo when so many others would kill for it. By the age of 21, his father retired and left the position of Oyabun leader to Natsu. But, Natsu wasn’t satisfied with the old way of doing things. This was the 21st century and times must change.

It was well known that the Yakuza traversed a dangerous underworld full of illegalities. Drugs, prostitution, gambling, shake downs and extortion, theft, or in other words the seedier side of society. So that is where Natsu focused his attention. Some of the very first of the changes were to reign in unauthorized violence or any crimes that utilized it. Such a move sent a utter shockwave through the order and those that refused to let go of the old ways were swiftly eliminated to instill an image of power and fear that Natsu Dragneel was not to be messed with. His logic behind the move was simple. Do not do anything that brings attention to the gang and attacking someone on the street for a few yen is a quick way for the authorities to show up. So, in a way, Natsu was lucky it happened to be one of Lucy’s employees and not a random person, because they would have immediately called the police. Though it also brought up another question. Were there other crimes he just hadn’t heard of yet?

“Well, she’s still as feisty as ever, gihi.” Gajeel broke the silence of the room when he returned. “Could’ve cut the sexual tension with a sword.”

Natsu crossed his arms in feigned annoyance. If it were any other underling, they would have received a harsher response, but Gajeel was one of his oldest and trusted friends. “Pfft. I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s a rival, that’s it. You know that.”

“Mmhmm.” Gajeel snickered. “So, now what?”

“Gray started working on finding who it was. I want you to call your contacts at police and see if they’ve had any reports of recent robberies in the area, and if there were, any details we can use to figure out who it might be.”

“Can do boss. Anything else?”

“You think it could one of our own?”

Gajeel looked up for a couple of minutes as if he were running their personnel through his mind. Finally, he rubbed his chin. “There’s a couple of newbies, a bit young and dumb that might be stupid enough to break the rules. I’ll call my contacts first before helping Gray press the men for info. Someone’s gotta know something.”

“Good. You do that and let me know as soon as you get a lead. I want this dealt with as quickly as possible.”

“Gotcha.”

Between Natsu’s two lieutenants and their best men, they interviewed all of the most likely suspects. Gajeel’s police informant let him know that there were a couple other robberies that sounded similar a few blocks away from where Lucy’s employee and client had been accosted. He also learned those two victims gave a similar description of the robber. With the new information, along with other snitches, they narrowed it down within a few days to a low-level street guy in the organization. But unlike Gajeel’s initial hunch, it wasn’t one of the newbies. Instead, the male had been with them for a couple of years now and never caused any problems. In fact, the guy fashioned himself as a smooth talking ladies’ man who supposedly disliked violence. So, it was a bit surprising it was one of the ones they’d least expected.

Gajeel and his men found the man named Bora Prominence laying low at his girlfriend’s apartment after he’d heard the gang was looking for him. Not the smartest move. The woman gave him up without a fight, fearing the Yakuza more than her boyfriend. So, once she’d let them inside, they quickly found Bora hiding in the bathroom and dragged him out.

“It wasn’t me!” Bora screamed as the men beat him to the floor. “You got no proof I did shit!”

Gajeel planted his foot into the small of the man’s back and held him down. “Two of the witnesses saw the tattoo on your face. That’s enough evidence for us.” He growled. “You knew the code and what would happen if you broke it, so stop being a bitch.”

But Bora continued to resist the four men, pushing off the floor with his arms unsuccessfully against Gajeel’s massive weight or fending off kicks from the others. They pummeled him with fists and kicks over and over until one clear blow finally knocked him unconscious long enough to be tied up. Despite a heavy beating bad enough to leave him bruised and bloodied, he continued to scream about his innocence. Back at headquarters, they dragged him into Natsu’s office with hands bound behind his back and forced him onto his knees.

The room held Natsu sitting at his desk, along with both lieutenants, four of their men keeping Bora restrained, and lastly Lucy with the victim to Natsu’s right side. He had contacted her as soon as he knew the suspect was being brought in. And thought they were pretty certain of guilt, the woman’s immediate reaction when they’d brought Bora in of cringing back and moving closer to her boss spoke volumes.

“Is that him?” Natsu questioned to gain a verbal confirmation.

“Y-Yeah,” the woman squeaked out. “He’s the one who pushed me down and robbed us.”

Natsu’s eyes stayed narrowed and glaring at Bora as he addressed the women. “Thank you, that’ll be all. Heartfilia you both can leave now I’ll handle things from here.”

“You’re a doll,” Lucy giggled and gave Natsu a quick teasing peck on the cheek before ushering her employee away. They’d done what they needed to do, now it was his job to finish it.

“Tch, so that’s what this is all about.” Bora sneered, spitting out a clot of blood. “Cause that bitch got you all worked up over a measly few bucks?”

“Watch it!” Natsu roared. “It ain’t a good idea to piss me off anymore then I already am!” There was a fire burning behind Natsu’s stare because when he looked at this man Bora, he doesn’t see the crimes themselves, but the disobedient threat he posed to their organization. How dare this selfish ignorant punk threaten everything they’ve worked hard to build! And to accuse him of weakness in doing Lucy’s bidding just sealed the man’s fate.

Bora snapped back defiantly, though the crack in his tone gave away the fear brewing beneath. “What does it matter, I know what awaits me.”

“You’re right.” Natsu relaxed back into his chair once he sensed the man’s inevitable compliance. “You knew the consequences for crossing me. What does it matter if my rival is also benefiting in this way? Because I know there are other victims. Dumbass, how do you think we linked you to all this? Those other victims reported it to the police! Which is exactly why I have the rules I have in place! You put all of us in jeopardy by pulling this kind of stupid low level bullshit!”

“Pfft, you act like we’re saints. If the cops really wanted to, they’d look into the other illegal shit we do regardless.”

“No, it’s you who fails to recognize there is a hierarchy to the kinds of crimes that bring heat on us. Drugs? Prostitution? The cops don’t care as much, but assault? Robbing people, murders, now those are things they will pay attention to, and I will not tolerate it!” Natsu sat forward with a malevolent grin. “Welcome to the modern Yakuza.”

Drugs and prostitution were a part of the gangs dealings, but the bigger scheme was in shaking down the local business owners for protection money. Thing is, Natsu’s gang actually did the protection part causing crimes in that area for customers or businesses to drop down to nearly zero. So, while the business owners weren’t thrilled to cut a portion of their profits, they also appreciated not having to worry about security. That and because of the gangs connections, they had pipelines of cheaper priced products which helped to keep their costs down. This more symbiotic relationship is why they didn’t go to the authorities and why the gang could hold such a control over the area. Making sure the areas streets were protected from violent crime is a testament to the gangs power and would insure that these businesses stayed compliant.

“Tch.” Bora retorted. “You’re just young and dumb. Eventually you’ll realize there’s a reason why things were done a certain way in the old days.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but your days of worrying about it are over.” Natsu motioned to Gajeel. “I’m done. Get him out of my face.”

Gajeel then motioned to his men to haul Bora to his feet and drag him away to an unknown destination never to be seen from again. Cliche as it may sound, even in killing off a problem like Bora, Natsu’s gang didn’t follow tradition. Bora would be held as a prisoner until his wounds healed then his death made to look like just another suicide statistic. In the seven years that Natsu has reigned, not one murder had been laid at their doorstep and he intended to keep it that way.

Now that the Bora business was over, Natsu closed his eyes and fully relaxed into his chair with a sigh. He didn’t exactly enjoy playing the tough guy bit and only did it out of necessity. This was a life his father groomed him for since birth, but he’d love nothing more than to just settle down with a wife and start a family of his own. Not that he couldn’t already do so, but that required finding the right woman to settle down with and no one other than his old flame has ever evoked I’m him more than a passing glance.

He didn’t know how long he’d been relaxing when there was a knock on his office door. “Yeah? Come in.”

“Sorry to disturb you,” the man spoke as he quietly entered the room. Invel Yura was Natsu’s Saiko-kamon, the top advisor and managed the administrative side of the organization. “I wanted to go over your schedule for tomorrow in case I need to make any changes.”

“It’s fine.” Natsu gestured to the chair fronting the desk. Invel had been the advisor to his father for the last few years of his tenure and he fully trusted the man’s diligence.

Invel sat down and opened up a calendar. “Tomorrow morning, we have a new shipment of prescription drugs coming in as well as some ecstasy, so you’ll need to appoint someone to oversee inventory processing.”

“Hmm, who should I have work on this?” Natsu asked for Invel’s opinion.

“Might I suggest Rajeel Ramal? He’s gruff but meticulous and has done a good job so far.”

“Is that so? Then that’s fine, let him continue. What’s next?”

“Okay,” Invel scribbled the orders in his book. “Next, the only other thing you have is a party to attend with one of our high end clients.”

“Which one?”

“The son of Yuuji Katsunuma of Katsunuma industries.”

“Ah yes, the one we supply with cocaine. Such a spoiled brat, but he spends a lot with us.”

Invel chuckled. “That’s the one. It starts at 8pm.”

“Okay. Thank you, Invel. Is that all for now?”

“Yes. If anything, else comes up I will let you know.”

“I’m sure you will. Oh. Have an appropriate suit pressed and ready for me for the occasion.”

“Very well, sir. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“No. You may go.”

Invel nodded and returned to his own office. He made a few typical phone calls such as to Natsu’s house staff regarding an evening outfit and the transporters bringing the morning inventory to make sure everything was on schedule. Aside from the Bora issue, the going’s-on of business continued as normal. The final call he placed before he’d leave for lunch was to Rajeel of a simple a five word instruction. Nothing more needed to be said, knowing that his associate would understand. Invel sat back in his chair with a smile. “It’s almost too easy…”

[mariaiscrafting]

this is your permission to rant ask!!

FUCK YES, only a lil bit tho bc I am not gonna get emotional over something I’ve heard a million times from people far more important to me, and also, this is a dying blog, so why waste all my good essay-writing on it anymore?

For context, I am a political science major who one day hopes to pursue a PhD in IR, with a focus in immigrant rights. Half my family in the States is undocumented. My mother helps people with the naturalization process for a fraction of the cost a lawyer would. I’ve also done Model UN for six years and have, as such, researched this a fuck ton.

Yes, people are allowed to seek asylum when they reach the border, according to the law. People are encouraged to apply at the embassy within their country, but you are in fact allowed to seek asylum at our border. Dream, however, writes, “I recommend you read up on asylum seeking from those countries, because no, it’s not 100% legal [to seek asylum at the border], and no, it’s not ‘as per protocol.’”

The use of the word, “illegals,” so liberally hurts my heart beyond imagination. I think this is the only instance in this whole slideshow when I actually almost felt like I was going to cry. "Illegal” has been spit at my sister, my father. “Illegal” has been used to categorize my aunt, my cousins, my uncle. No one is “illegal.” Fuck off with your semantics, fuck off with your, “but technically,” god this is the reason I stopped using Reddit a year ago.

The skepticism is so... infuriating. No one will ever take a person of color’s word for what it is. No one will ever believe a person of color for telling of their hardships and threats to their lives or livelihoods, not unless they have documentation and evidence and eyewitnesses, without regard for the fact that most of these people do not have the resources to provide or gather any of those things. Some asylum seekers carry nothing but the clothes on their back and their babies in their arms. You think they had the time to get a recording of the threats they received, to get someone else to risk their lives and testify on their behalf, to even gather their passports and birth certificates, before they flee? Christ. The naivety. The privilege. The utter ignorance. This reeks of apathy.

I won’t even go into the million things wrong with the “why won’t Mexico take them?” argument. I mean, the disregarding of Mexico as a sovereign nation on equal grounds as the US, the lack of understanding of the dangers in Mexico and its crumbling infrastructure, the just... fuck what the fuck I-

That last sentence is basically just, “Yeah, they might be escaping gang and domestic violence, but have you ever considered that, if we change the law to make is to that those two things aren’t grounds for seeking asylum, maybe we can then label them as illegals who want to invade this country?” Fucking what? I am done.

[arcticdementor]

When Machiavelli wrote, “in order to know Moses’ virtue it was necessary that the people of Israel be slaves in Egypt …,” he was pointing to the truth that knowing what one is up against is a powerful incentive for dealing with it intelligently. Genesis tells us that only in Moses’ time did the Egyptians make clear how harsh was the alternative to the Exodus by deciding to kill their longtime slaves’ baby boys.

Today, the oligarchy that controls American society’s commanding heights leaves those who are neither its members nor its clients little choice but to marshal their forces for their own exodus. The federal government, the governments of states and localities run by the Democratic Party, along with the major corporations, the educational establishment, and the news media set strict but movable boundaries about what they may or may not say—on pain of being cast out, isolated from society’s mainstream. Using an ever-shifting variety of urgent excuses, which range from the coronavirus, to the threat of domestic terrorism, to catastrophic climate change, to the evils of racism, they issue edicts that they enforce through anti-democratic means—from social pressure and threats, to corporate censorship of digital platforms, to bureaucratic fiat. Nobody voted for this.

What forces can and can’t this oligarchy bring to bear? We have a hint from Time magazine’s Feb. 4, 2021, valedictory of “a vast, cross-partisan campaign” by leaders of business, labor, and the media, in cooperation with the Democratic Party, that “got states to change voting systems and laws” for the 2020 presidential election in contravention of black-letter constitutional law. Rulings by judges in Michigan and Virginia that changes to those states’ absentee ballot laws were blatantly illegal matters not one whit.

Why not? Because the coalition of masters controls the levers of the state and the press. As Time reveals, they “helped secure hundreds of millions in public and private funding. They fended off voter-suppression lawsuits, recruited armies of poll workers and got millions of people to vote by mail for the first time. They successfully pressured social media companies to take a harder line against disinformation and used data-driven strategies to fight viral smears.” Because these elites realized that “engaging with toxic content only made it worse,” they decided on “removing content or accounts that spread disinformation and by more aggressively policing it in the first place.” Instead of answering facts and arguments with which they disagreed, they would ignore their substance and smear whoever voiced them.

The boldness and novelty of these as well as of unmentioned tactics delivered the desired electoral result, and power heretofore unimaginable: Americans in 2021 are being fired or “canceled” from society for whatever anyone connected with the oligarchy finds objectionable—even for asking for evidence of the oligarchy’s assertions. Yet Time tells us that because the process of defeating Donald Trump’s voters angered them further, these oligarchs worry that they gained only “a respite.” Hence the united oligarchy must seek, as The New York Times’ Jamelle Bouie put it, permanent “national political dominance.”

Though that dominance seems at hand, the general population’s compliance with it is not. That is because isolating and alienating anybody, let alone half the country, is the proverbial two-edged sword. Anytime you isolate and alienate someone else, you do the same to yourself. The boundaries that the oligarchs have drawn, are drawing, separate them from the American people’s vast majority, whose consciousness of powerlessness and defenselessness clarifies their choice between utter subjection and doing whatever it might take to exit a system that no longer seems to allow for the prospect of republican self-government.

…

By this century’s second decade, the oligarchs who occupy the commanding heights of American life had ceased trying to persuade. Self-government has declined as corporations have wielded public powers with private discretion. America’s ruling class—bipartisan, public and private—grew to disdain the rest of America’s religiosity, patriotism, and tastes. But until our own time, most Americans either had not noticed their loss of status as citizens or assumed that they could vote to regain it. But the rulers inspired no confidence and ruled by pulling rank.

…

Hate-as-identity was key to the ruling class’s victory in the 2020 election. For the elites, indulging sentiments of moral superiority, promoting hate, and rubbing “deplorable” faces in the dirt is a means to secure and mobilize supporters, which itself is incidental to securing the material benefits of power. For those who deliver the votes, indulging hate is affirmation of identity.

Ruling people by insulting and harming them is problematic, and not reversible. The use that the oligarchy made of the COVID epidemic added to insult and injury, as well as to its power, in a manner previously unimaginable. Boldly dismissing without argument the fact that viral infections cannot be stopped from running their course once they have taken root in a population, they asserted that acquiescing to indefinite cessation of social and economic activities they deemed to be nonessential would stop the disease’s progression. The ensuing lockdowns, mask mandates, and other measures made life for most Americans worse in every way. But these strictures also crippled the sectors of American society independent of and resistant to the oligarchy—religious institutions and small businesses. They isolated people and limited what they could hear from and say to each other, leaving them prey to one-way propaganda narratives backed by nightly threats of mob violence.

Correctly, however, the American oligarchy, which resides these days in the Democratic Party, feared that the weaponized, mutually validating narratives with which it had bombarded the population could not guarantee that the American people would vote differently in 2020 than they did in 2016, widespread public dislike for Donald Trump notwithstanding. Not a few suspected that the COVID heavy-handedness had increased resentment among people who had learned to be suspicious of pollsters, reporters, and opinion-samplers.

Ordinary credulity was never enough for swallowing the narrative that universal vote by mail, coupled with drop boxes for ballots and ballot harvesting by self-proclaimed civic groups, plus the reduction or elimination of verification of signatures, would do anything other than transfer electoral power from those who cast votes to those who count them—that is, to the oligarchy and its party. Even so, the ruling class’s victory depended on tens of thousands of votes out of 156 million, in some of the most corrupt counties in the land. In Pennsylvania, the vast majority of all mailed ballots were for Biden. The oligarchy sealed the victory as brazenly as they gained it: by meeting demands for transparency with ad hominem accusations backed by threats of social ostracism and enforced by control, which itself was attained in part by issuing naked threats backed by legislative and bureaucratic power—all over partisan, monopoly digital platforms which eventually participated in censorship.

The oligarchy’s power over American institutions public and private, however, does not change the fact that it rests on near universal voluntary compliance. The irrevocable alienation of and from at least half of Americans has canceled much of the oligarchs’ moral legitimacy and left them obliged to rule by further alienating and punishing—to rule a house that they divided against itself. Hence, the unprecedented power it gathered will prove less significant than the manner in which it did the gathering.

…

The deplorables plainly stand no chance of dismantling the new American system. Corporate executives, not legislatures, governors, or presidents are the ones who decide what happens to the trillions of dollars created jointly by the Federal Reserve and Wall Street. They are the ones who regulate speech and attitudes, who for the most part decide who rises and who does not. And they are the part of the oligarchy most insulated from republican institutions.

…

In our time, millions of people have grown up or been educated no longer to want or be able to live as citizens of what had been the American republic. Partisans in mind, heart, and habit, their support of the oligarchy’s partisan rule has left the United States with two peoples of opposing character, aspirations, and tastes within its national borders. The government bureaucracies are led by persons selected and habituated against the deplorables. The same can be said of the educational establishment and corporate boardrooms. What sort of dictatorial power would it take to purge them? Were the deplorables to struggle for the partisan power to oppress the others, they would guarantee dysfunction at best, war at worst. That is why it makes most sense for them to assert their own freedom.

Some sort of mostly peaceful exodus is within our powers to achieve. A very bad imitation of Mr. Smith was able to convince 75 million to rise against dangers that were still largely theoretical in 2016. Better imitators can lead many more to act against present ones, and to live within institutions of their own making. We can withdraw our compliance, go our own way, and build anew.

…

Our American exodus won’t be led by a Moses. The Republican Party, with the exception of a few national-level personages, may be as useless as ever. But politics is a collective activity, and the lack of top-down leadership notwithstanding, our exodus is already in progress, thanks to Americans’ legal structures and traditions of state and local autonomy, as well as our Tocquevillian taste for organizing ourselves into ad hoc groups for the common benefit.

…

What to do about the media’s banning or restricting the circulation of ideas with which it disagrees, including the distribution of books and movies, is a major issue of national politics. Without shame, medically unqualified “fact checkers” censor the writings of physicians on medical matters, while defining their own beliefs about gender and race as “science.” Letting such pretenses stand also ratifies the negation of the First Amendment. Overcoming them requires ending the exercise of what amount to governmental powers, indeed of police powers, by nongovernmental persons and entities.

Not so long ago, government power was the only threat to the First Amendment. But oligarchy’s essence is precisely the blurring and blending of public and private power in a partisan manner. Hence, media malpractice must be dealt with as part of a bigger political problem, namely expanding the Bill of Rights’ coverage to ostensibly private entities.

What is to be done about private companies that subject employees to training aimed at convincing them that there is something wrong with being white—or at least pretending to convince them? Or that they must abide by the oligarchy’s preferences? To be sure, state governments may outlaw such training within their borders, as part of their general police power. But big employers may object to such laws as contrary to their own freedom of speech, while asserting that the employees’ attendance at those sessions is voluntary. Even if courts back them up, governors and mayors don’t have to listen and can impose their penalties. Public figures, or brave employees, can organize many if not most employees to stay away and to explain just how wrong it is to racially stereotype. Management can’t fire them all. Yet republican self-government can return to at least some Americans only if and when a bloc of major states puts itself in the position of dictating what will and will not happen within their borders.

…

Until recently, graduation from highly selective colleges seemed to certify their graduates as better for having been admitted, and doubly so for having learned more than students at lesser schools. But for a generation, the Ivy League, Stanford, and others have made a point of admitting many students with lower scores on the Scholastic Aptitude Test rather than students with higher ones. In general, and with the exception of physics, chemistry, and pure math, the more highly rated the college, the less work it expects from its students. And since learning is inherently proportionate to studying, graduates of these academic peaks often know less than kids out of Podunk State. Yet they give their students something of supposedly greater practical value than knowledge: prestige, pretentiousness, and access to enviable careers.

Which leads one to ask why the nation’s most powerful consulting groups, private equity firms, and big banks hire Ivy League types and pay them so much. They are not necessarily all that bright or knowledgeable. Why then are they so valuable? Not because of what they know, but who they are: junior members of the oligarchy, identically chosen, trained, and confirmed to defend its interests, to communicate its priorities, and preserve its hierarchy. How come the public-private oligarchy was able to use the COVID challenge to crush independent business, thus transferring massive wealth to itself? Because its various parts are staffed by interconnected people who, whatever their differences, instinctively trump the Smiths’ priorities with those of their own class.

…

The oligarchy’s cancellation of most ordinary people out of its desired America leaves the latter with the choice between helotry and exodus. But since submission to inconstant, inept masters is impossible, common sense suggests counter-canceling: limiting involvement with the oligarchy to minimizing its interference on individuals who don’t share its aims and preferences.

The oligarchy’s cancellation of ordinary working people—of those who actively participate in forms of organized religion, and are otherwise attached to the common norms and values that prevailed in America and shaped the civilization in and by which most of us live—signals an alienation deeper than that between citizens of different but friendly nations. Asking how this cultural chasm has come to be detracts from the hard task of understanding its depth and making the best of it. Like married couples who have lost or given up what had united them, trying to work through irreconcilable differences only drives Americans’ domestic quarrels toward more violence.

[maruzzewrites]

hello ~ could i request #6 for risotto? or diavolo who ever works best! maybe nothing too nfsw if that’s alright?

what about both, my good sir? also i dunno what you meant with nsfw bc i don’t really write smut? i assume you meant gore, so it’s not as bloody as i could i have made it

6. “I think they might bea problem. Don’t worry, love, I’ll take care of them for you.” 

Content warnings: yandere content, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, stalking, implied mindbreak, implied violence, abuse, being used in these two fellows’ feud.

Diavolo had to keep tabs on everyone, his eyeshad to see everything. When it came to his own group, his own empire, he had tohammer the thought of constant control and surveillance in order to discourageany and all attempts to rebel. He didn’t care if his underlings would kill eachother for foolish greed or any revenge-filled sentiment of resentment, until hestayed at the top and no one tried to tear apart his carefully built life.

He was cautious, bordering on pointless paranoia,when it came to anything to do with his goals. No underdog could hope tooverthrown him, no matter how brave they thought they were. On the other hand,those loyal subordinates who would bow down, figuratively show their throat tohim as an act of submission, gained his favor and his calm more easily that he’dlike to admit. Diavolo wasn’t one to indulge in typical emotions, toocontrolled and isolated to really understand other people, but he could appreciatethe coddling provided by people who obeyed him almost blindly. Like his Doppio.

Or like you, a mere courier. You wereinsignificant, you were an ant in his vast world of crime and illegality. You weren’tan assassin or a guard, you just run around the city with averted eyes to carrypackages, often of little to no value. Yet, you talked with reverence of theDon, of the man you claimed allowed you to eat at the end of the day, to wrapyourself in a soft blanket and sleep peacefully in the safety of your own home.Diavolo never really thought about other people unless it was to manipulate or monitorthem, but the small admissions you gave to anyone asking why you were acceptingof the low rank and lousy treatment made his mind feel softer when he had todeal with you.

Despite the growing, reluctant fondness he hadfor you and your reverence, he wouldn’t reveal himself or contact you directly;Doppio was often sent to talk to you, offer you a bit more money than necessaryfor a simple delivery, yank you away from situations his boss didn’t approveof. You were grateful, that much he could understand, but that sentiment seemedto quickly diminish with each passing day. You were refusing, again and again, anytype of help from the Don. When before you would accept without thought hisgenerosity, now you step back a little and bow your head, trembling at thetentative rejection.

Diavolo could feel Doppio shake a bit, tension inhis muscles. His underboss’ voice was still sweet, if strained, when heextended the envelope with cash towards you, a clear invitation to take it. Youstepped back again, looked around you, whispered your fear to the man who wasin front of you. You accused him with a small voice; of following you, ofspying you, you saw the pink hair everywhere and his gift of affection wereleft behind so, so often you were afraid to go back home most nights. At themention of your spending nights of utter terror with someone else, Doppio’smind melted away and you watched as his eyes turned green.

“How dare you,” it wasn’t a question, it wassimple indignant vitriol dripping from Doppio’s soft lips. Before you couldeven question what was happening, he charged you and backed you up against thewall behind you, his arms seemingly growing too large for his minute body. Youhit your back painfully, letting out a moan of agony, but didn’t have thebravery to struggle against the man holding you against the wall, on your toes.Was he always that tall, was he always that strong; your head buzzed withquestions as he spoke again, “Don’t betray me. You wouldn’t like what happens.”

He kept your head in place as he got closer, crashinghis lips into yours without much consideration for your whines and whimpers,your body froze solid for the fear. You were left without breath by the length ofthe greedy kiss, your lips swollen and aching when he was done torturing them.A light squeeze of your arms was the last wordless warning he left you, beforeletting you stumble to the ground and watching as you walked away with quick stepsyou were obviously trying to contain so you wouldn’t displease him.

The following days were filled with dailyencounters with Doppio, soft and polite again, as he let you have anything youneeded or wanted, even when you didn’t voice your thoughts to him at all. Diavolocould feel you slip away from his grasp, but he would tighten his fingersaround your throat as you were trying to leave just to keep you subservient anddocile. Yet, he couldn’t have eyes on you all the time, not on a constantbasis, so you managed to get your glimpses of freedom that made you get closerto someone.

Risotto Nero was his best assassin, the boss ofhis hitmen team, and he knew everything about him; he was an asset, but also aliability with the sheer cruelty and greed his group showed every single day.He approached you when Diavolo’s eyes couldn’t observe, offering you protectionand safety if you gave in to his affection. Softness wasn’t something he hasever accustomed to, but you showed a great amount of it even to the strangerson the streets; you wouldn’t let your job dim your light, your tenderness,despite working for the ruthless ranks of Passione.

He knew of the link you had with the Don, initiallyhe kept researching you for the sole propose of finding a weakness in theshield of the boss he hated so much. But, with time, his heart softened andchanged, a sick obsession to follow you and claim you pushed him to leavetraces. And that made you accuse the boss’ underdog of Risotto’s action, articulatingyour dread at the attentions. He was glad your contempt was directed at theother man, but his stomach dropped when he watched further and you were seizedin his arms, weak and passive like a kitten.

Risotto felt a roar die in his throat, at thedisplay of your fragility. Everything was out of focus, except your delicateface and your trembling steps as you run away. You were so breakable, and hecouldn’t bear the thought of you crumbling for anyone but him. Another challengeto the boss wouldn’t be his death, he thought, as he dragged you under his wingto protect you, claim you. Under his fingers, your blood turned cold and yourstrength left you with the drop of iron in your bloodstream. A little doll,prized, in the hands of two puppeteers.

You found yourself between a rock and a hardplace, pulled back and forth in their attempts to get you. A pawn in theirendless game, it didn’t matter if your arms would come off because of thetugging. They would kiss with hunger at the scars, demanding to open new oneswhere the other left them on your skin. They’d claw, and tear, and shape yoursoft soul until you were only left with edges and cold flesh, perfect in yourform and limping at their side. It didn’t matter if you were yourself, untilyou could be theirs. Then, one day, one of them would disappear and leave youin the punishing hands of the other man, ready to atone for your split loyalty.

“The boss and his right-hand man. I think theymight be a problem,” Risotto’s voice was burning as ice on your skin, draggingthe words over your back while he held you close. The promise of torture at themere thought of rebelling against his affection, the threat of being left aloneto face the Don if you didn’t comply. Diavolo spit out words as bright as acold flame, making the venom stick to your eardrums like a plague you could never hope to cure if you wanted to live another day, “Don’t worry, love, I’ll takecare of them for you. Soon, they won’t bother you anymore.”

[softsan]

NCT MAFIA AU (johnny)

🖇Heavy hearts wasted on worthless words (pt.1)

MASTERLIST

PARTS: | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

MAFIA PROFILES | Y/N’S NAMES

GENRE: Mafia AU, College AU

QUOTE: “If only if you knew the true bloodshed he could spill. The massacre he could fire in seconds. Your bright eyes would bleed with utter terror. For the first time in his life, he wished he was anything but a monster.”

WARNINGS: Graphic scenes of violence, Blood, Mentions of drugs, Cursing 

Past.

The fluorescent lights danced, splashing hues of neon greens and pinks across your glistening skin. You grinned, clumsily swaying back and forth with the music. The power of the bass thundered through your body, your chest pumping against your ribcage. You felt as light as a feather, your arms in the smoke coated air, perspiration rolling down your neck.

“Y/N?”

“Mhm,” You hummed at the glittering stranger you couldn’t quite make out. You smiled anyway.

“Be a good girl,” A rough hand stroked down your shoulder.

“Wha- you doing?” Your voice slurred, as you stumbled backward.

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, your mind unable to place a coherent sentence together.

“Lean on me,” The stranger encouraged, his hands wandered across your stomach.

You didn’t like this.

“No,” Your limp arms tried pushing him away.

“Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll keep you safe.”

You’ve heard that promise before.

He hauled you along deeper into the club, you heard distant cheers as sweaty bodies passed you without a second glance.

You wanted someone to notice. You wanted to cry for them to intervene.

“My girlfriend got a little too drunk,” The stranger explained to a tall figure.

“You should take her home then.” The tall figure said flatly.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

You ghostly chill ran down your spine. You tried to shake your head. You weren’t his girlfriend. You weren’t drunk. Please.

“You have half an hour.”

You barely made out what they were exchanging. You blinked, willing for your sight to clear. Your captor was handing him something green... money? In return for?

“Come on sweetheart.”

You dragged your ankles across the carpet, you were losing feeling in your legs.

He threw your lifeless body like a ragdoll against one of the couches. You fell face-first into the pillows, your limbs sinking into the cushions. You were too weak to even turn yourself around.

Would you even remember what happened next?

Please, someone, help me.

Johnny pushed past the crowds, their dancing frames bumping against him.

“Fucking move.” He yelled over the music. It wasn’t like him to lose his cool.

“Move,” Jungwoo backed him up.

Jungwoo’s face was beet red, his eyes filled with maddening rage.

Johnny felt the exact same. Not only had the bastards run an illegal trafficking ring right under their noses, undermining their boss Taeyong’s laws, but they had also dared to come for those dearest to them.

There was a reason why people like Johnny didn’t indulge in relationships. Their significant others often became targets for their enemies. They became weapons in the deadly games of betrayal and violence. 

Johnny scanned the dance floor, you were nowhere to be seen.

“She has to be here.” 

We’ll come for each of your wives one by one. Once we have broken their worthless selves, we’ll dump their empty bodies on your doorstep.

A threat.

Nothing ensured a war more than stealing a lover from the mafia.

“You check the V.I.P rooms” Jungwoo urged, “I’ll continue the search across the floor.”

Johnny nodded, his skin crawling. He was going to kill them all.

You drooled over the pillows, your mouth trying to form words.

“Sto- Stoppp,”

You heard a women’s muffled pleas.  

“Be quiet!” The stranger demanded. His cruel hand slammed down, a loud crack echoing around the room. The women fell silent.

He yanked you up by your elbow, lying you on your back.

Your eyes watered helplessly. You still could see him clearly. Your eyes only capturing the sparkle of the emerald green pendant that dangled from his neckline.  

Johnny kicked down door after door until there was only one room left. Furry washed through his veins as he entered, his eyes adjusting to the orange candlelight. By the entrance, there was a woman who was hogged tied, a white cloth fastened between her lips.

Jungwoo’s girl?

It must have been.

Johnny’s murderous gaze locked on the man on his knees, his hands splayed across your skin, his thumb tightening on the hollow of your neck.

Johnny unleashed his gun. He fired twice, once in the man’s thigh the other in his lower back.  

The man let out a howl, his hands cupping his bleeding wounds. Johnny approached closer, hauling his gun across the man’s face. The man tumbled to the tiles, blood pouring from his mouth and nose. He was out cold. 

Johnny wanted to do so much more, he wanted to inflict such unimaginable suffering, but he could be patient for your sake.

Johnny quickly slipped off his jacket, wrapping it around your frail form. You stared aimlessly, you were completely lifeless. Johnny gently lifted you up, cradling your slump body against him. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N” Johnny whispered into your hair.

He would never let something like this happen to you again.

No more broken promises.

───

One year before.

“Shit, shit, shit,” You squealed, rushing past the other students.

You ran with all you might, ignoring your bleeding heels from your platform heels.

You dodged left and right, occasionally knocking someone over.

“Sorry!” You quickly apologized, rushing off before they could ask you to help pick up their books.

Dae is going to kill me if I’m late.

Dae was your art lab partner, she was also your beloved campus roommate. Unlike you, she seemed to have her life put together.

You continued to race through the halls. Your mind debating whether it would be faster to take the stairs or the elevator.

The two of you had a group presentation, starting in approximately 5 minutes. You unsurprisingly had slept through your seven alarms, missing two of your morning classes. Now, you were going to severely lower your group's score by rocking up late to your scheduled presentation.

“Dammit,” You muttered to yourself.

Your group couldn’t afford to lose any more points, you were already a member short...

Perhaps the mysterious Pip, the other group member who hadn’t turned up to a single class the entire semester would suddenly appear to save the day.

We’re totally screwed.

You stopped at the elevator, your lungs screaming. You furiously pressed the button.

The wait was excruciating, finally, you heard the beautiful ding the elevator made as it opened its metal doors. 

A few people ushered out, you jumped in hitting the button for the 7thfloor.

Johnny tapped his foot to the rhythm of the music playing from his headphones. His eyes casually falling onto you.

He nearly let out a laugh, when he saw you. Your hair was poking out of your ponytail in all sort so directions. Your makeup was hastily applied, streaky and mascara was smudged on your lower lash line. You were wearing your hoodie backward and your pink platform heels half off your feet.

You fidgeted about, your anxious eyes watching the elevator’s floor numbers change.  

Johnny held back the part of himself that wanted to say something to you. You were a stranger. He was a stranger. It was for the best. He looked back to his phone changing the song.

Hurry up! You silently begged.

3, 4, 5, 6- Kaboom.

You felt your soul leave your body. You stared stunned at the doors.

“Nooooo,” You panicked. “No!” You pounded your fists against the metal. This can’t be happening!

Johnny took off his headphones, hooking them around his neck. There had been a jolt that had stopped the entire elevator.

“HELP!”  You screamed into the emergency speaker, pressing every button like a madman.

“Hey, hey, calm down.” He grabbed your wrist, stopping you from smashing them against the wall.

“You don’t understand I’m going to be late!”

Johnny shrugged, you were right he didn’t understand. He pulled you away Telling you to take some deep breathes.

You didn’t follow his advice, your panic only rising. You reached for the emergency button again.

Johnny sighed, letting you go.

You had pressed the button a few dozen times when a second jolt hit. You stumbled to your left, falling toward the young man. Johnny felt your body ram into him, instinctively he wrapped his arms around you as the two of you plummeted to the floor.

You fell on top of him, his head loudly hitting the floor.

Your eyes widened with a newfound worry.

“Are you okay?” You lightly brushed your hands over his head.

Johnny opened his eyes, mesmerized by the set staring right back at him.

You were straddled around his waist. Your thighs tight around him.

He bit his lip, his mind clouding.

“Hello?” You raised your voice higher, fearing for the young man trapped with you.  

“Hello,” He returned a dazzling smile. “My name is Johnny.”

“Y/N” You offered, lifting his head carefully of the floor to inspect it.

Johnny draped his long arms around you, giving you a bear hug.

“Nice to meet you Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes. He defiantly needs to get his head examined. Yet, you didn’t push him away, his head nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

───

“I’m kind of at the hospital...”

“YOU’RE WHAT!”

You winced, pulling the phone away to save your eardrums.  

“Let me explain,”

“I swear if I hear that you injured yourself again to get out of an assignment, I’m going to kill you.”

You laughed a little, scratching the back of your head. “I guess you're still holding a grudge?”

Dae didn’t find it amusing. She had always been your better half. She was the miracle that made sure your lazy ass attended classes, studied, and ate semi-healthish food that wasn’t two-minute ramen. Honestly, without her, you’d probably be kicked out of school and on the verge of starvation.

“Y/N”

“How was I supposed to know tripping over a soccer ball would break my ankle.” You childishly sulked.

“Y/N!”

“Okay, I swear this wasn’t my fault. The elevator I got on broke down and I fell on a guy and gave him a mild concussion. It took a million years for them to come and rescue us and then they took us straight to the hospital.”

There was a short pause.

“That’s it your sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Hey! Wait! I’m telling the truth.” But Dae had already hung up on you.

You let out a long sigh, tucking your phone back in your pocket. You returned back to Johnny’s corner in the emergency room. He was reluctantly lying on the bed, his long legs hanging off the side.  He was restlessly playing with the blankets, scanning the entrances, the doctors, and the nurses.

“How you are feeling?” You asked softly.

“Feeling like I need to get the hell out of here.”

Hospitals weren’t for people like him, people who lived on the fringes of society. People who technically didn’t exist.

“No one has even had a look at you yet.”

“I’m fine,” Johnny grunted.

You didn’t believe him. “I’ll try and get someone.” 

Johnny grimaced. 

You waved down a passing nurse down.

“Excuse me? No one has checked out if my friend is okay?”

Friend. The word repeated over in his head.

“Sorry, the young nurse apologized.” Pinning her name tag back on her blue scrubs. Hanna was written in pink cursive writing. “We’ve been flat out. Someone will be with you shortly.”

You nodded.

“I guess we’re stuck here then.”

Johnny stopped fidgeting with the blanket, eyeing you as you pulled a chair closer to his bed.

“You don’t have to wait with me.” He said reasonably.

“What kind of person would I be if I left you.”

A smart person.

If only if you knew the true bloodshed he could spill. The massacre he could fire in seconds. Your bright eyes would bleed with utter terror. For the first time in his life, he wished he was anything but a monster.

You smiled unknowingly, pulling out a paper napkin and a pen. 

A tiny bird that had just entered a den of wolves.

“Watch this,” You beamed.

Johnny’s eyes flickered down to the napkin, your delicate fingers drew a circle. You continued drawing, smug at the awe that crossed his features.

“Here,” You presented to him.

Johnny carefully took the napkin from you. You had drawn a miniature cartoon version of him. He touched your name neatly signed in the corner.    

His chest warmed.

This isn’t good. He tried to control his joy.

But it was too late.  

───

You returned from the bathroom, pulling back the curtain that separated Johnny from the other patients.  

“It shouldn’t be too long no-“ You froze, your heart dropped.

His bed was empty, his hospital blankets kicked on to the floor.

“Johnny?” Your voice was no louder than a whisper.

Johnny felt his ears burning, he rubbed the feeling away. He was outside the hospital, in the parking lot. He clasped this gun, pulling it by his side.

You will never meet me again, he promised himself.

He took one last look in your direction. Your sweet drawing tucked in his shirt pocket by his heart.

“Goodbye Y/N,” He breathed, disappearing into the dark night.  

NETWORKS: @czennienet​ | @nct-writers | @neoswitchnet

MONI’S NOTE: Mafia Johnny’s first installment. I hope you all enjoy it. If you do, please consider reading the other member’s parts. They are all a part of the same universe, and you may even notice some cross-over between them.

TAGLIST: If you’d like to be tagged in this fic please send me a message.

[monstaxsthetics]

Ch. 3

Genre: Angst/Romance/Action

Warnings: Harsh Language/Violence

Characters: Wonho/Lee Hoseok x OC x Monsta X

Word Count: 4k

Synopsis: Nara and Hoseok split ways six years ago. She was not a top trauma nurse who couldn’t be happier with her life and Hoseok was head of her father’s security detail. When her father is kidnapped and her life is put in danger, Hoseok and Nara are reunited. What will come of the reunion and will they find her father before it’s too late?

A/N: A good majority of this chapter takes place in flashbacks and multiple POVs. I hope it’s not too confusing. Enjoy!

Ch.1 Ch. 2

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[6 Years Ago]

“H-hoseok please don’t do this. You don’t have to do this!”

The ground felt like it was cracking beneath Nara’s feet, the earth ready to swallow her whole with each word he said.

“It’s over, Nara.”

“Then look me in the eyes when you say it, you coward!”

She stared him down, willing her bottom lip to stop quivering and dared him to repeat himself.

He steeled himself as he looked at her, shoulders squared. He couldn’t back down now. This was the only way. His two months was up and this had to end. Hoseok already loathed himself, so this would just be another item to add to the list of reasons why.

“Nara-yah, let’s end this here, hm?”

“No, let’s not. Not without an explanation. You owe me that much, Hoseok.”

The knots in Nara’s stomach twisted and turned to the point she felt faint. She faltered, reaching out to the nearby railing to steady herself.

Hoseok reached out to catch her if she were to fall but stopped himself, knowing that if he touched her now, there was no way he could finish what needed to be done.

“I owe you everything, Nara”

“Pfft, then why? Why are you doing this to me? To us? Hoseok, this doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m not right for you, I don’t know how to love someone without hurting them. I can’t be the person that you deserve and I never will be. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

“That’s utter bullshit, Hoseok, and you know it!”

“P-Please Nara-yah”

To Nara, Hoseok’s voice cracking was a sign that he didn’t want to do this. That there was some other reason he was trying to leave her and she was damn determined to find out.

She took his moment of uncertainty and used it to walk up to him until they were mere inches apart. Cupping his face in one hand, she lay the other on his chest over his heart.

Hoseok’s breath hitched and caught in his throat. The urge to lean his head into her hand like he had done so many times before was too strong and for a moment he let his façade fall.

“Hoseok, I know this isn’t what you want. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

He let himself relish in the feel of her hands on him a few seconds longer before regaining his resolve, realizing he was an idiot to think she would let go this easily. Nara wasn’t dumb and she had always been a fighter. She wasn’t going to just let him end it this way.

“Dammit just tell me why you’re doing this! I love you, Hoseok.”

And there it was. The very words he needed to hear in order to end this once and for all. It would gut him to his core, but he would deal with that later. For now, he had to get this done and over with. He could punish himself and wallow in self-pity afterward.

“But I don’t love you, Nara. I’m sorry.” 

It was barely a whisper. He couldn’t muster much more with the enormity of the lie he just told weighing on him.

Nara’s hands dropped, as she stumbled back, disbelief clouding her mind. Tears welling in her eyes as she continued to step back and away from the man she had spent the past two years loving.

“I-I’m so sorry, Nara - -”

“I never want to see you again.”

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She would hate him for walking away like this, but it was what was best for her. His life - the life that Hyunwoo and even her father lived, wasn’t meant for her. She deserved more, infinitely more.

Hoseok has been through hell in his life, but up to that point nothing had been harder than looking into her eyes and breaking her heart. When Hwang Ji had brought him into the family, he never imagined that he’d meet and fall in love with someone like Nara.

He was completely taken with her from the moment they met. He knew from the beginning that it could never work between them, and for the first few months, he resisted temptation and remained strong. But there was just something about Nara that pulled him in, almost against his will, and refused to let go. 

She was bubbly and energetic, smart as hell, witty, raised in wealth and luxury, but the most down to earth person he’d ever met. She loved people fiercely and was loyal to a fault. He eventually gave in to his feelings for her and for the past two years he had known more happiness being by her side than he had ever felt.

That was until three weeks ago when he overheard her talking with her father about being accepted into one of the top trauma nursing programs in the country. An acceptance she planned to decline. When her father asked her why, she simply stated that she would be just as happy training at a local hospital as opposed to half way across the country at Ansan.

Hoseok knew this was crap. Nara had talked about the possibility of training at Ansan since they first met. He knew she was only staying for him. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let her sacrifice her future, her dreams, her happiness for him. Nara was the most kind, caring, selfless, and compassionate and  person he knew. She was going to make an outstanding nurse and she deserved the best training their country had to offer.

He knew that she wouldn’t leave of her own accord, not while they were still together. So it was then that Hoseok decided to end things. 

He knew it would be the hardest thing he would ever do, but even he couldn’t have foreseen how it would tear him to shreds, leaving him unable to sleep for months, and feeling like he could never catch a breath. But even then it didn’t matter, because he would do anything for her. Nara deserved more than someone like him and the danger that his lifestyle could put her in.

That’s how he found himself in the situation he was in now, trying to keep himself together as he looked into the eyes of the only woman he had ever loved and denied that exact fact.

“But I don’t love you, Nara. I’m sorry.”

He thought he would collapse as he watched her face fall, hit with the weight of his words. And when she told him she never wanted to see him again, his knees almost hit the hardwood and tears threatened to break the threshold they were maintaining at his lash line. He expected this type of reaction from her, but none of his mental preparation had been enough he heard her say the words aloud.

Nara accepted the offer at Ansan and left a few days later and Hoseok spent the next few weeks in a drunken stupor. Even Hyunwoo, his best friend, couldn’t lift his spirits. Instead it was Hwang Ji who delivered Hoseok words in which he could find solace. Hoseok expected his boss and mentor to be furious with him. Nara was his beloved daughter after all, but instead Hwang Ji offered Hoseok wisdom and understanding.

One evening over a bottle of soju, Hoseok confided in him the reason he left Nara the way he did. Hwang Ji said he understood and offered words that would help Hoseok find a way to live with the guilt and heartbreak - even if it couldn’t make it go away.

“Hoseok-ah, the best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, and the capacity for sacrifice.”

Hwang Ji’s voice had a gravel-like undertone. It boomed in his chest and around the room even when he was speaking in hushed tones. It was warm, reassuring, and calming as he placed a caring hand on Hoseok’s shoulder, squeezing ever so lightly.

“And you my son, are one of the best people I know. I could never be angry with you for the sacrifice you made for my Nara.”

That meant more to Hoseok than he could ever express, since to him, Hwang Ji was the best man Hoseok had met in his 22 years. Sure, he was a mafioso like so many others in the area, but so was Hoseok, and Hyunwoo. But Hwang Ji was different than most.

Hwang Ji was a mob boss with a different code. He had more morals than most others in their line of work. He didn’t deal in drugs or prostitution, he didn’t own a chain of strip clubs or seedy nightclubs with nefarious dealings in VIP rooms. His empire was built on a handful of casinos which housed illegal betting houses and underground fight clubs. He also dealt in illegal trade of art to bidders of great wealth and public standing.

For this reason the other mob bosses despised him. They hated that he was so successful without having to stoop to their levels. They felt he thought he was better than them. This made Hwang Ji the recipient of a growing number of threats and attempts on his life which lead to Hwang Ji forming a special security team to ensure extra protection for him and Nara. 

Hoseok and Hwang Ji met one night when the latter made a rare appearance at one of his fight clubs on the lookout for new members to recruit to his security newly implemented team.

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[8 Years Ago]

Hoseok had been so cold and his head was pounding. He took a chance entering the illegal fight in the hopes that he would win and earn enough cash for a few nights at a crappy motel and some ramen. Somewhere warm and off the streets, at least. Instead he got his ass beat and now he was freezing, starving and in pain.

He needed to find somewhere to sleep and quick before he froze to death. Maybe he could find an empty train car or something. At this point he didn’t much care. He was used to sleeping in all kinds of places, from abandoned buildings, under bridges, to park benches. He’d been doing it since he aged out of the foster care system and was subsequently forced to leave his foster home two years prior.

Just as he spotted a bridge that he figured could provide enough cover from the harsh winds, a large black car pulled up next to where he stood on the sidewalk. He gripped the straps of his backpack tightly, prepared to make a run for it, as one of the heavily tinted windows rolled down revealing an impeccably dressed middle aged man with kind features and salt and pepper hair.

“Hello, my name is Hwang Ji. Do you mind if we speak for a moment?”

“What for?” 

“I have a business proposition for you” 

Hoseok looked around realizing there was no one else in sight. He swallowed hard realizing he could be killed or kidnapped right now and no one would be around to see.

Hwang Ji could sense his concern. “Look, it’s nothing weird. I saw you fight and you have potential. I have an offer for you, that’s all” 

“Now I know you’re lying. I got my ass handed to me back there. Potential? Are you crazy?”

“Sure you lost, but you have skill and I’d like to offer you the chance to cultivate it.” Hwang Ji countered.

Hoseok still wasn’t sure, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and scraping his foot along the concrete, kicking at rocks that weren’t there.

“Look, you look starved. Let me at least buy you something to eat and you can hear me out. What do you say?”

Hwang Ji took Hoseok to a convenience store around the corner where he bought him some ramen, sausages, kimbap, and a soda. It was all Hoseok would allow as he was still weary of the man and also he didn’t want to feel like he was taking advantage even though he was more hungry than he cared to admit.

He was surprised to see the elder buy and eat the same items as him. He was sure that someone as well dressed and clearly established as him wouldn’t be caught dead eating such cheap food.

As they ate, Hwang Ji explained who he was and what he did as well as what he had in mind for Hoseok. He wanted to train him to become a member of his special security team. And with this offer came free room and board.

Hoseok almost choked when he heard him explain. It sounded too good to be true. Hwang Ji let out a light hearted laugh, patting Hoseok’s back and passing him his soda.

“I’ll tell you what, why don’t you come stay with me and train for a week? And while you’re there you can get some much needed sleep. At the end of the week you can give me your answer.” 

Still skeptical but finding the prospect of hot meals and a bed hard to pass up, Hoseok agreed. The week of training and rest came and went, but Hoseok didn’t. He stayed with Hwang Ji, training, and growing ever closer to the man while he climbed his way to the top of his security team.

Now here he was sitting across from the only father he ever had and not regretting for one minute the choice he made that cold night two years ago.

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[Present Day]

She yawned as she made her way down the stairs, the aroma of strong black coffee calling to her like a siren song. All of the boys were already awake and up to their own antics and the kitchen was like a zoo. No, not a zoo because a zoo had some semblance of order. The animals were separated and contained. No, this, this was the jungle. She didn’t mind though. All the chaos reminded her of her days in the E.R. That and she loved the sense of normalcy it brought to the rather grave reason they had all been brought together in the first place. 

Watching the boys - her makeshift family - scramble around in their own little worlds, warmed her heart the same way the coffee she sipped seemed to be warming her cold and stiff body, bringing it back to life.

“Morning, noona.” Kihyun greeted, picking up a plate of food from the stove, turning toward Nara to place it in front of her. 

“Changkyun will be back soon. Hopefully he will have some intel for us.”

Changkyun had been putting in charge of “extracting” some information out of a lead they had for the whereabouts of her father.

It had been a few weeks now since her father was first kidnapped. She had resigned herself to the fact that it was highly possible that her father was no longer alive. It wouldn’t stop her from doing everything in her power to find him, whether she brought him home alive, or he she had to lay him to rest next to her mother, she would bring him home.

At the same time, Changkyun, not paying attention, slid through the kitchen in his socks in a mockery of the famous scene from “Risky Business”, coming to a stop at the end of the kitchen island.

“Yah! You scared the shit out of me!” Kihyun shouted at the younger.

“I am frighteningly handsome, aren’t I” Changkyun said, placing his hands up to his face and dramatically fluttering his eyelashes.

Nara did her best to hide the smirk on her face behind her coffee cup as she took another sip.

“Do you ever chill?”

“No, not really.” he shrugged.

Kihyun rolled his eyes. “Sit. Eat.”

“Yes, ma’am, I-I mean mom, I-I mean........no mom sounds about right”

Shaking her head and smirking once again, Nara finally accepted the plate and thanked Kihyun, and plopped down at an empty spot across from Minhyuk and Jooheon. Minhyuk was busy trying to spoon feed Jooheon his breakfast and the latter was engrossed in some game on his phone and growing evermore annoyed with his clingy, yet well-meaning boyfriend.

“Minhyuk please, I can’t think straight when you’re this close.”

“Oh please, Heonie. Thinking straight is the last thing anyone is asking you to do. Speaking of which, did you get my note?”

“You mean the one you left taped to my forehead? Yea, I got it.”

Everyone snickered at this little exchange as Jooheon just rolled his eyes.

“Pft really Minhyuk? Subtle, really subtle.” Hyungwon snorted.

“I am the master of subtlety, okay?” 

“Oh please, you’re practically bioluminescent.” 

No one could bicker better than Hyungwon and Kihyun which is why they were appropriately dubbed Tom & Jerry. But Minhyuk and Hyungwon were a close second. Hyungwon was always the first one to pick on Minhyuk and the open manner in which he chose to show his love for Jooheon. Part of Nara believed it was due to his own inability to accept his feelings for Changkyun and in turn he took that frustration out on Minhyuk for being so openly in love and happy.

Nara had confronted Hyungwon about his seemingly suppressed feelings a while back but was met with more resistance and denial.

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[2 Weeks Earlier]

“Are you ever going to tell him?” 

Nara was sitting next to Hyungwon who was supposed to be watching the movie he picked out but was instead staring intently at a sleeping Changkyun.

Everyone else had either dozed off already or was out for the evening so Nara felt herself asking again when her first attempt was met with silence.

She nudged him, “Hyungwon?”

“Huh? What?” he asked coming out of his own thoughts.

“Are you ever going to tell Changkyun that you love him?”

“Pft, w-what?” 

He swallowed nervously not making eye contact with her. 

“I…I mean I-I’m I d-don’t. I mean w-what?”

“Its okay, I won’t tell anyone,” she reassured him. “But you should tell him.”

“Hah, yea that’s not going to happen,” he laughed half-heartedly. “And neither is this” he said gesturing between the two of them. “This little heart to heart or whatever just happened between us won’t happen again either. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“Oh yes of course. I wouldn’t dare jeopardize your reputation.” Nara quipped sarcastically, standing from her spot on the couch and ruffled Hyungwon’s hair much to his disdain. 

“Night, Wonnie.”

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[Present Day]

Back in the present, Minhyuk easily blew off Hyungwon’s snarky remarks and was quickly back to pestering his boyfriend about his note.

“So babe, what do you think?”

“About what?”

“About my noooooooote!”

“No Minhyuk, I don’t want to.”

“Pleeeeeease? It’s just a pasta dinner. I just want to go on a date with you. Please it will be romantic.”

“For the last time Minhyuk, if it was just dinner I wouldn’t care, but I’ve told you over and over again that sharing a piece of spaghetti like two stray dogs isn’t romantic and I won’t do it.”

“You never let me have anything!”

“Why? Why do you want this so bad?”

“Because I’m here, I’m queer, and I want pasta so give it to me!”

A chorus of laughter broke out among the eight of them. One laugh stood out louder and unfamiliar from the rest. They all turned their heads to see Hoseok doubled over the counter and laughing to his heart’s content.

They were all shocked. They couldn’t recall the last time they had seen Hoseok laugh, like genuinely and wholeheartedly laugh. Some weren’t sure they ever had. And here he was laughing unabashedly, tears breaking at the creases of his eyes. The sound and sight was undeniably beautiful and they all soaked it up before breaking into another mess of giggles and smiles along with him.

Hyunwoo circled his arm around Nara as she watched her favorite people laughing and being momentarily carefree. He said he couldn’t remember a time in recent years that he’s heard his best friend laugh that way.

“It’s because of you, you know.” 

“He hasn’t laughed like this since you left.”

He squeezed Nara’s shoulder and quietly made his way to the stove for a second helping of the breakfast Kihyun had made them, leaving Nara alone with her thoughts.

Thinking of what Hyunwoo said and seeing the smiling faces of the boys around her, she couldn’t help but think that in that exact moment, despite all the danger, and trials to come, she swore she wouldn’t mind staying this way, in this place, with these boys forever.

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Nara and Hoseok had just finished another grueling training session, and were currently sitting across from each other on the mat, each chugging a bottle of water, breaths beginning to even out. Hoseok was the first to break the silence.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Nara was taken aback. She wasn’t sure where this sudden confession was coming from. She looked into Hoseok’s eyes full of sincerity and fought the urge to waiver from her hurt and just forgive him already.

“So why did you?” 

She took another sip from her bottle and averted her eyes from the overwhelming emotion in his.

“It’s complicated. But it was what was best for you.”

She huffed. ‘Not this again’, she thought, standing from her spot. 

“Right, this again. If you aren’t going to be honest with me Hoseok, then shove your apologies up your ass!”

Hoseok scrambled to his feet. 

“Wait! Nara you don’t understand.” 

She had already turned her back and was heading toward the door.

“Of course I don’t understand!” - she turned to him abruptly - “because you never tell me anything, never explain anything.”

“Nara, please.”

“Save it, Hoseok. Unless you’re going to tell me why you ended it all those years ago, the real reason, then just save it.”

His next words were hushed as his head hung low, but not low enough for Nara to miss the tears fall from his eyes. 

“It never would have worked. I-i have darkness inside of me. I eventually bring down everyone I love. I didn’t want to do that to you.”

“Please, Hoseok” - she stepped closer to him - “we all have darkness and demons, but maybe if you had given us a chance, our demons could have been friends. I don’t know why you think you have to hide yourself from me.”

“You were going to give up your future for me. I couldn’t let that happen. Saving you from myself was the best thing I knew to do for you. No matter how much it killed me to do it.”

“That would have been my decision, not yours, mine.”

“You should have run from me the moment we met, but you didn’t and I wasn’t strong enough to resist my feelings for you, I’m sorry. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish that I was someone different, someone better, and that we had met some other way. Then maybe it could have worked.”

Nara’s heart broke again, this time for Hoseok. How could he not see how amazing he was. He had a past, yes, but hell who didn’t? He was a good person, the best person she knew other than her father. It shattered her to see the turmoil in his eyes and realize that he only believed the worst about himself. All she wanted was to show him exactly how she saw him.

“For fucks sake, Hoseok stop talking about yourself like that. It’s not true.”

“What difference does it make? It is what it is and I’m not telling you any of this to make you care about me, but - -”

“But I do care. I fucking love you, Hoseok. Every part of me loves you, can’t you see that?”

He stumbled.

“Y-you still love me?” 

He had never expected to hear those words from her again. He couldn’t believe it. After everything he had done to her, she still loved him?

“Of course I do.” 

She closed the distance between them. She pressed a hand to his cheek mirroring the night they broke up and Hoseok instinctively leaned into her touch like not a day had passed. 

“I never stopped.”

It wasn’t clear who made the first move, but in an instant, their lips were sealed to each others in a frantic kiss. The conversation wasn’t over, but at the moment neither of them could find the right words to express the rush of emotion surging through them, and instead they let their bodies speak for them.

They communicated through kisses and flushed skin, tight embraces, and passionate sighs. There would be time to talk about everything again after, but right now they both needed this, needed the wordless conversation happening between their bodies and the sweet release of years worth of unspoken feelings and pain.

[crazyfreckledginger]

Ikemen Sengoku x Reader - “Criminal Masterminds” [Crimelord AU] [Part 8]

In a world where the most powerful are the greediest, everyone has to fend for themselves. The rich stay hidden, normal citizens live their lives, unbeknownst to all the lies and secrets the most dangerous firms keep locked away. When a mercenary is sent to retrieve valuable information that is also searched for by the Oda forces and Takeda-Uesugi, paths cross, dilemmas arise, love, morals and important decisions become a threat.

A/N: I meant to bring this back earlier and this single person who cared about this series motivated me to continue it, so thank you.

Warning: slightly obscure theme like the mention of abuse.

The car drove straight into town. Her fingertips tapped lightly against the steering wheel as she headed towards her favourite coffee shop.

Despite everything she had been through, she never would have imagined how hellish her life had become. Especially since Hideyoshi waltzed right into the company. 

Granted, she was good at lying but keeping such strong secrets was unbearable given she had to play all her cards right and, knowing what the punishment was for being a spy, she couldn't make a single false step. 

"Oof," (Y/N) realised she wasn't paying attention to where she was going until she walked straight into a tall, broad chest. 

"I'm so sorry," she apologised, thankful for not seeing the man's face before uttering those words. 

He had a scar running across his face and wore the most devilish smile -- and not in a good way. Her mind drew a blank. 

"Do not worry, but remember that each one of your actions have consequences." He spoke before departing. Her eyebrows knot together, did he get extremely offended and wants to kill her now?

Not understanding what he was talking about, her feet strolled up the stairs and into the café whilst trying to suppress the uneasy feeling that tugged at her heart.

Was this a good idea?

****

"It seems the Oda are slowly closing in on us." 

"Agreed, it seems a few of that Devil King's men have been spotted roaming around the ports and locations where we buy our weaponry." The woman nodded.

"That information is confidential, it seems there is a little birdie that has been singing." Rei sighed in disappointment -- not because someone was progressively pushing a dagger in his back, but because he had more work to do. 

"The new guy?" Jayden accused immediately. 

"Doubtful, he's only just been hired and he hasn't been granted access to any classified sectors of the company, he's still in training." The boss denied, "Jayden,  start looking into it, and for the love of god, don't try to dig up every scrap in (Y/N)'s dossier to try and make her a double agent. It's inconvenient how much you despise each other." A groan rumbled in his throat. 

"She's suspicious," he muttered under his breath.

****

"Feel free to tell me what you plan to do before you actually do it!" She scoffed, entering her house and slamming the door shut. 

The Mitsus, Nobunaga, Sasuke and Yukimura were here now, some previously being absorbed on their computers that is, until she made her presence known.

Unsurprisingly, Mitsunari was still fully absorbed in his strategy book. 

"You didn't even tell her?" Yukimura scoffed.

"I-"

"No no," she cut off, pointing a finger at him, "we made a deal, we're doing this together, all of you and me. Like, come on, you're one of the most infamous criminals and you don't even know communication is one of the most important factors when running a company? Especially an illegal one? Would you have rescued me if I had even the slightest bit of a more important reaction towards Hideyoshi just popping out of nowhere?"

"Well-"

"No, I thought not, we are partners, I'm not some stupid collateral, we agreed on that, you need me just as much as I need you! I'm too overwhelmed to have you surprise me like this." Her outburst and arguments were bold, but extremely correct. Nobunaga marched to her intimidatingly. 

Her heart stopped, was he going to treat her like Rei does? She mentally prepared herself to get hit. Her eyed shot closed as she took a few deep breaths, only to have her heart pound widely in her chest as his footsteps grew louder. 

But nothing painful came. Her eyes opened quickly when she felt a hand against her mouth. His beautiful red eyes stared down at her.

"Can I talk now?" She nodded slowly.

"We couldn't tell you before because it just opened up and we had to get Hideyoshi in there before the applicant places were full, and did you really want me to inform you via text message when you're still in the company and they record everything that's coming in and going out mmh?" 

She didn't answer.

"Exactly, so you have been excused, although, I will try harder to let you know next time. Also, if you wanted to know, I sent Hideyoshi to become a training teacher so he could keep an eye on you, record inside the facility as well as make sure you keep your focus on the mission." He voiced. 

It somehow bothered her that he did all of this just for the work, she understood it was the mission but-

"He won't be able to record in there, they do a thorough check up every time you enter the facility." A small smirk found it's way on Mitsuhide's face and she only notice it when he came close to her with his phone.

"W-what?" Her eyes went wide, it was a picture of her, choking on her water when she first saw Nobunaga's vassal in the applicant hall.

"A truly entertaining moment, for all of us I must say." the snake teased.

"Well, I'm glad I'm such a source of amusement to you." She bitterly expressed, "but how did you even sneak a camera in like that -- and right in front of the boss' face?!"

"That would be my doing." the ninja expressed. Her attention moved to Sasuke as he dangled, what she assumed was, a camera like the one that had been taken into the facility.  

"Let me explain,"

****

"Don't worry, I'll take care of Nobunaga's supposed 'death'."

The sentence echoed through her mind as she patrolled across the numerous training rooms.

What did that even mean? Did she really want to find out though?

Today was Hideyoshi's first day and he was doing pretty well. Whilst the other teachers disciplined their students through violence when they made one false move, the man she worked with only expressed his discipline through strictness. It was a good break for the students and she only wished she had had a teacher like this when she was training to be an agent. 

"Slut," the voice called out behind her, knowing who it was, she begrudgingly turned around. 

"What do you want you piece of shit?" the flattering nickname didn't faze him as he stood before her, hands in his pocket and usual tranced expression.

"I was informed there is a mole on our company, hmm, I hope it's you so I can kill you slowly and painfully." He chuckled.

(Y/N) suppressed her nervousness as she glared at him. 

The alarm echoed through the area, interrupting their discussion and ending the lessons for the morning.

"Mmh, look at that," he hummed, "it's time for me to catch a rat and butcher him." He laughed before strolling away. "Keep your neck exposed for me, it makes it easy to paralyse and kill an animal that way .." 

Please let this be over soon...

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[lavenderhistory]

Many first person accounts (Harriet A Jacobs) and other data available, underscore the rampant sexual exploitation of African women slaves. 

In the absence of any safeguards, with laws granting owners sweeping powers over their slaves, these women in bondage were habitually ravished, harassed, sexually stalked and used as long term concubines not only by their masters, but by the owners’ families and friends as well. 

Slave men, for their part, were rendered powerless to challenge or intervene, as to do so would mean sure death or sale to distant plantations.

Progeny or ‘mulattos’ resulting from such rapes were also considered slaves, unless freed by the owner. 

“As masters applied their stamp to the domestic life of the slave quarter, slaves struggled to maintain the integrity of their families. Slaveholders had no legal obligation to respect the sanctity of the slave’s marriage bed, and slave women- married or single – had no formal protection against their owners’ sexual advances. …Without legal protection and subject to the master’s whim, the slave family was always at risk.”

However, in quite a few documented cases, enslaved black women worked as devoted loyal servants, as mammies and surrogate mothers for white children demonstrating the absence of oppression and bonds of affection that actually united the two races.

Children often internalized the two contradictory behavior responses of their parents; one submissive in front of the owner, the other castigating their owner’s action in private. They understood that submissiveness was a way to avoid punishment, but the true behavior model emulated was the one they witnessed in private.

The family was an important survival mechanism, for no matter how often the family was broken, it enabled the slave to survive on the plantation without becoming totally submissive to or dependent on the master.

As absolute property of their owners, enslaved black women were thus uprooted their homes and families and to comply with every physical and sexual whim of the master. 

They had to learn to be totally submissive to the master, in mind and body. 

Sexual abuse could be in the form of sexual coercion to forced breeding for profit. 

Refusal of sexual overtures met with physical and emotional abuse and often the sale of a family member to distant farms, never to be seen again. She had no safeguard or refuge as the law regarded rape as a mere trespassing of property.

Developing relations with fellow slaves, men and women, proved difficult as she or her friends could be deported or sold to another property at any given time. Any challenges by the male slaves to such sexual exploitation could mean an end to their own lives.

Compelled to live under the same roof with a man forty years her senior, he daily violated her. Her misery seemed inescapable, for there was no law to protect her from the constant insults, violence or even death. She finally managed to escape and went into hiding for seven years, before she could flee to another place.

Though reluctant mistresses, these enslaved African women were often labeled as ‘jezebels’, innately promiscuous or even predatory by the white women. 

They were perceived to enjoy higher status and privileges than other slave women, but these privileges were tainted by the fact that they were forced into sexual submission.

However, research based data indicates that quite a few of these formed short term liaisons with their white owners for vested interests (Southern Mulattos Population) and, yet others willingly maintained long-term relationships with their masters, begetting them children. 

Contemporary sociologist K Sue Jewell in her book …describes ‘Jezebel’ as a tragic mulatto indicating they formed the bulk of black women sold into prostitution. In a system termed placage, many such freeborn light-skinned women were willing mistresses to wealthy white southerners.

How did southern plantation owners use their powers not only to control their mistress but their children and even male slaves under their control?

Slaves were at an utter disadvantage and powerless as they were designated legal properties of their owners. Authorized to use punitive measures, slave owners and their families deployed severe methods on the least pretext to ensure slave obedience.

A variety of objects and contraptions such as the more commonly used whip, shackles, chains, metal collars, knives, guns, field tools, forced walking on the treadmill and even hanging were used to quell any disobedience or rebellion. 

Reasons for punishments ranged from breaking a law like leaving the plantation without permission, running away, not following orders or slow work, often punishing them in front of others to make an example of them.

In fact, the law required slave owners to mandatorily discipline recaptured runaway slaves or face fines. Owners also constantly blackmailed slaves with the threat of sale of their family members to distant plantations, never to be seen again.

Enslaved blacks continued to be sexual pawns in the hands of their owners. Children that ensued from these actions were also treated as slaves as they took on the status of their mothers.

Slave marriages were considered illegal and couples were frequently separated through sale. It was unsafe for a slave couple to be residing on the same plantation. 

Nothing demonstrated the utter powerlessness of the husband as he watch the brutal whipping and rape of his wife and the sale of his children. He had no alternative but to comply with the demands of his master.

However, Blassingame also indicates that owners understood the need to encourage monogamous relationships “a black man, they reasoned, who loved his wife and his children was less likely to be rebellious or to run away than would a ‘single’ slave”

Whilst some masters were compassionate, most slaves knew that any error or crisis would take them to the auction block.

Slave owners were also uncomfortable with the fact that slave children might question their authority and the legitimacy of the order, as they were reared to respect other authority figures like their parents.

To subvert this, owners established rules and planned activities aimed at minimizing the importance of slave family life and emphasizing his position as the master. Many went to the extent of referring to their slaves as family members which gave them the right to interfere in their slaves’ private lives.

To this end, they kept a keen watch on their slave’s activities night and day, including such mundane matters as to what they ate, how they dressed and when they slept.  They would often bribe the slave children or reward bad behavior with toys or gifts.

How did slavery laws and southern politic support the rights of slave owners to abuse their slaves

Enslavement of the African Americans formally commenced in the 1630s and 1640s.Colonial courts and legislatures clearly affirmed that Africans–unlike their counterpart white indentured servants-would serve their masters for life and their slave status would be inherited by their children. 

A 1667 A Virginia act declared that “Baptisme doth not alter the condition of the person as to his bondage or freedome.” And By 1740 colonial America had a fully developed slavery system in place (Slavery in the Civil War Era).

 In fact in Virginia, after 1807, slaves were considered the chief ‘cash crop’ of their owners. Such legislation gave owners ultimate power over their slaves (Slavery in the United States).

A law on partus in 1662 in Virginia indicated that children of an enslaved mother would automatically be slaves, even if the father was a freeborn white. This further institutionalized the power relationships and freed the white men from any legal responsibility of either acknowledging or supporting their children, confining the scandal of illegitimate, mixed-race children to the slave quarters.

In the 1860s, elite families, who formed a bulk of the shareholding families, influenced and shaped the political scenario of the land. Foremost amongst their common concerns was controlling and ensuring an adequate supply of slave labor (Slavery in the civil war era) Legislation in the south was so designed as to protect the owners’ rights to their human chattels. ‘Slave codes” incorporated in these laws admitted, if grudgingly so, that slaves were human beings and not property like animals. 

However, these codes instituted many clauses to minimize the possibility of slave rebellion. The codes made it illegal for slaves to (a) educate themselves to read and write (b) to attend church services without a white person, or (c) to testify in court against a white. Also, leaving their home plantation without a masters’ written pass was forbidden. Additional laws sought to restrict the possibility of manumission (the freeing of one’s slaves).

Between 1810 and 1860, legislation in all Southern states restricted the right of slave owners to free their slaves, even in a will, as free blacks might inspire other slaves to rebel. As a consequence, most Southern states required that any such freed slave leave the state within thirty days (Slavery in the Civil War Era). 

Authorities established ‘slave patrols’ to enforce these codes. Locally organized bands of young white men, both slave owners and yeomen farmers patrolled the night checking that slaves were in indeed their quarters. These ‘patrols’ shared a common desire to keep the black population in check (Slavery in the civil War Era)

How the isolation of Plantation life in the south factor into the percentage of numbers of rape of black slaves.

Although slavery was widespread throughout antebellum America, the 1830’s saw a greater demand and concentration of African American slaves in the flourishing plantations of the antebellum south (Slavery in the civil war Era). Legislation of slavery in the southern states, unlike the north where there were free slaves, indicated that all slaves to be “chattel personal in the hands of their owners and possessors for all intents, construction, and purpose whatsoever.” (African American History).

 A black man could be whipped for no reason. He could be beaten, stripped or tortured for the entertainment of his master. A black woman could be sexually harassed, assaulted, beaten or raped at anytime without question.(Life of women in the plantation – slavery essay)

As bonded laborers and property of their owners, slaves were confined to live and work on the plantations. Permission to go outside the premises was only by written consent from the master and severely punishable if disobeyed (Slavery in the Civil War Era). 

It served the owners’ dual purpose of labor exploitation and race control. Children and women were used as domestic help so as to not waste capable labor (Berkin – Life of women slaves on the plantation- an essay Berkin, p. 62). 

Slave codes incorporated in the legal system restricted their movements and growth. They were not permitted an education, could not testify against a white or attend church services without one (Slavery in the United States). Authorities established ‘slave patrols’ to enforce these codes. .( Slavery in the United States)

In the absence of any safeguards and laws to protect them, enslaved African women were the worst victims of a system that designated and treated them as sole property of the owners. Of the data available and horrific first person accounts of two slave African Americans, women suffered the worst possible sexual violence and abuse.

Her non-compliance resulted in severe physical and emotional punitive measures for herself and her spouse or the selling of a family member – a child, spouse, parent or near relative to a distant land never to be seen again. Any rebuttals to such sexual exploitation by the male slaves could result in death.

Conclusion

The antebellum era in America is strife with the slavery epoch which went contrary to the principles of the War of Independence. It is ironical that the very state, Virginia in which the American Declaration of Independence was signed, would be the first to legitimize slavery. African slaves first set foot in Virginia, America in 1619 with the arrival of captives sold by a Dutch to settlers in Jamestown. Considering their economic worth, particularly in the plantations in the antebellum south, their demand grew and spiraled over time up to the 1800s.(African American History). 

Colonial courts and legislatures had racialized slavery (Slavery in the United States)The first arm of legalization in 1662 stated that such Africans would be servants for life, and later in a 1667 another act declared that “Baptisme doth not alter the condition of the person as to his bondage or freedome.” 

By 1740 a concrete legal slavery system in colonial America was in place. A Virginia law gave owners absolute right over their ‘property’ stating that slaves were “chattel personal in the hands of their owners and possessors for all intents, construction, and purpose whatsoever.” (African American History).

Legitimizing slavery gave owners sweeping powers of life and death over their slaves, particularly, the enslaved black women ((Berkin – Life of women slaves on the plantation- an essay Berkin, p. 62). 

Slaves were brutally penalized and sometimes even murdered. Rape and sexual violence against enslaved black women was rampant and not considered a crime except for the fact that it represented trespassing on another’s property. Owners often resorted to severe punishment, physical and emotional, to reinforce submissive behavior, particularly against black slave women.

Designated as property to their white owners, they lived with the constant reality of rape as is witnessed in the first person accounts of Harriet a Jacobs and Celia.

Habitually, raped, harassed, sexually stalked and used as long term concubines not only by their masters, but by the owner’s families and friends, these enslaved women lived in constant fear of punishment either physically or emotional blackmail through separation when their loved ones and family members were sold to distant plantations, never to be seen again. 

(Africans in America) Laws accommodated the owners actions, classifying the resultant progeny as children of the mothers only, absolving the white father of any responsibility, unless they were freed by the owner.

Though Black women were reluctant mistresses, they were termed as seducers called, “Jezebels” However, there is evidence to suggest that some enslaved black mistresses had devised a way to use her sexuality as a means of avoiding exploitation by her master and for other vested interests (Southern Mulatto Population).

Slave men for their part were powerless to intervene as they faced the threat of death. (Africans in America). A slave couple residing on the same plantation were unsafe. Nothing demonstrated the husband’s powerlessness more than the brutal whipping and rape of his wife and sale of his children. “

However, owners also understood the importance and need of allowing monogamous relationships, as this was less likely to create run-away slaves.

Slaves struggled to maintain the integrity of their family and culture, even as masters applied their stamp to the domestic life of the slave quarter. Fearing that slave children might question their authority, slave owners established rules and planned activities aimed at affirming his position as master.

The fact that the slaves in the antebellum south were legalized and property of the owners afforded them no rights or freedom. Their isolation from the north, where free slaves resided, further detracted from any hope of freedom or better quality of life than at the hands of their tyrannical owners. 

[roswelldetails]

Episode 108: Barely Breathing - details

Episode Summary

Isobel makes Kyle “This Guy” Valenti inject her with Liz’s serum and starts dying, so Michael and Liz spend the rest of the episode trying to find a way to save her. Max spends most of the time crying in various places. And Alex, henceforth known as THE KING, literally crutches his father in the head, and then crutches him metaphorically using amazing computer hacking skills and the power of truth. 

Details - this is not an exhaustive list of every single detail, just just a few that might be important now or later.

(Alex and Jesse in the bunker is basically all one scene that the episode divides up, so it’s together here.)

In the bunker

Jesse Manes has been investigating the alien trio - as we have suspected. He has photos and articles on them, and surveillance set up so he can spy on them from his bunker.

Max’s house

Max is meeting up with his mom to see if she recognizes the alien symbol.

Mrs. Evans plays bridge and knows everybody. And she doesn’t like Max giving speeding tickets to the kids of her bridge club buddies. Even if they’re speeding.

Max tells his mother that Isobel was combining pills and wine and the doctors think it caused a psychotic break.

Mama’s first question is who knows, but she seems happy to hear only Noah does.

Mama tells Max that he and Isobel never spoke when they first came home, but it appeared that he and Isobel knew what each other was thinking so she figured they weren’t lonely.

Then Max and Isobel just started talking as if they’d “been observing, waiting to learn the entire language before uttering a single word.”

MAX IS DRINKING FROM A “BEST COP” MUG. Omg. So dork.

In the foster home the Evans went to, Max and Isobel were huddling in a corner crying, while “the other boy in the home had taken a red marker and drawn this [the alien symbol] all over the walls.”

Mrs. Evans thought that boy needed special attention - a wealthy family that could give him what he needed.

According to Carina, Michael did not end up in Roswell right away, so Mrs. Evans never knew what happened to that other boy in the foster home, and does not know that Michael is him.

Hospital lab

Kyle found the weirdest looking cactus to give to Liz. 

Dr. Avila and Liz have been working on a project and are presenting their findings to the board this afternoon. (Does it mean she’s fired if she ends up working in a fun underground alien sciene room that afternoon instead? Asking for a friend.)

Liz tells Kyle that Isobel is the one who killed Rosa.

Angry!Kyle thinks Liz should’ve told him sooner, because after all, Rosa was his sis-... uh.. friend. Totally his friend, Liz.

And clearly, he’s not withholding any information from her.

Liz shows Kyle the serum she was working on to try to strip Isobel of her powers. 

Isobel’s room

Noah doesn’t think Isobel looks sick enough to be in a hospital.

Noah wants things to go back to normal, and Isobel says things have never been normal between them. But she wants them to be.

Isobel tells Noah she’s going to speak to the doctor privately about a treatment plan.

Outside the bunker

Alex is waiting for Jesse as he leaves the bunker, locking it up and hiding it with Official Shrubbery.

Alex drops the bomb on his dad that he knows about Jim Valenti and aliens and is ready to discuss.

When Papa Manes plays dumb, Alex CRUTCHES HIM OVER THE HEAD.

He tried to be polite.

Isobel’s room, part 2

Kyle walks in to confront Isobel about killing Rosa, and Kyle stabs her in the chest with the serum-filled needle.

The junkyard

Michael says “some broken things can’t be fixed” supposedly referring to the sign Maria has brought him to repair.

but also lowkey probably talking about other things

He suggests it’d be better to make a new sign, but Maria wants that one repaired.

Michael doesn’t have Maria’s number, and claims not to want it.

Also, he tells Max he’d never sleep with her.

Max shows Michael the alien symbol on the paper and gets him up to speed on Wyatt drawing it, as well as what his mom said.

Max wonders if it was something they saw before the crash, which surprises Michael because Max never wants to talk about them potentially having had lives before the crash.

Max says, “I've spent a lot of time not talking about where we come from or why we’re here. Keep thinking I can pretend the past away and just be normal.”

This reveals a major conflict between these two: Max thinks being human is normal. Michael disagrees.

Max wants to know about the symbol in case it will provide a clue to whatever is wrong with Isobel. And he thinks it’s weird that they have no memories before the age of 7.

Michael wonders if whoever put them in the pods doesn’t want them to remember.

Suddenly Max feels cold - something is wrong with Isobel.

Isobel’s room, part 3

Liz wants to know why Kyle stabbed Isobel with an untested serum, but Kyle doesn’t know why he did it when it goes against what he believes.

Liz explains Isobel’s power - turns out she influenced Kyle to do it.

Kyle leaves and Max and Michael arrive to ask Isobel WTF she just did.

Isobel is concerned because Rosa’s autopsy photo showed a handprint - meaning she killed her with powers she didn’t know she had. She figures if the serum takes away those powers, she’ll be safe.

She says, “If I’m normal, then I’m safe.” 

Again, bringing up the conflict between “normal=human” and “normal=it’s okay if you’re an alien.”

Kyle “This Guy” Valenti comes back in to tell them that the room is private, not soundproof. So please have quieter alien arguments.

Isobel is pleased to find that she can’t influence Kyle to take off his shirt. The serum worked!

Michael leaves, clearly not pleased.

Inside the bunker

Jesse Manes is zip tied to a chair while Alex works at the computer station.

Jesse denies the existence of Project Shepherd, but Alex knows it’s BS because he’s a code-breaker and has hacked Russian and Chinese intelligence and Jesse’s pitful security is nothing to him.

When Jesse wants to know why now, he finds out Alex has been looking for leverage basically forever.

Alex shows him the alien shard he found, and talks about how he’s been busy the last few weeks surfing the dark web, following his dad, and reconstructing one of his burner phones.

In other words, THE KING has been busy RULING.

Also, he called Mom.

So Mom is alive? And apparently able to talk to Alex and give some kind of insight into Jesse?

Jesse tries to say he kept Alex out of this for his own good, to keep him safe.

But Alex is spilling truth all over the place about how Jesse wasn’t too concerned about letting Kyle in on it. And he wasn’t too concerned about keeping Alex safe since he sent him to war when he only wanted to make music. Because Jesse thinks he’s weak because he’s gay.

What’s Alex’s endgame? To destroy the thing Jesse loves and make him watch.

After hacking into the database, Alex is able to see a sexy modeling photo of Michael saying that he’s a terrorist. Threat Level: Red

As in “red hot”??

Alex wants to know why Jesse is trying to frame Michael, and Jesse rambles a while about how Alex is blinded by his perversions and Michael has been trying to use Alex to infiltrate for over a decade because “his kind” is their enemy... blah blah blah

“Alex, these aliens are monsters.” So Jesse has now clearly told Alex that he believes Michael is an alien. He has plenty of incidents of unprovoked violence as proof.

“Do not talk to me about unprovoked violence! Do you hear me?” is Alex’s amazing answer. (Because he’s amazing. And also because if that was the criteria for being an alien, Jesse would be the most alien alien out there.)

Alex says he’s just using this operation to target people he hates.

Alex tells Jesse he’s going to have to be on the flight in the morning to go oversee some training in Niger, and after that, he’s going to have to request a transfer out of Roswell. 

If he ever comes back, Alex is going to report his illegal, not-sanctioned-at-all operation to the Pentagon.

The Feds shut him down in 2010 and he’s been running it illegally ever since.

Outside the hopsital

Liz and Dr. Avila are walking along talking science, when Michael comes up to give her a piece of his mind.

Michael says, “You stripped Isobel of her identity.”

He clearly believes “normal=it’s okay if you’re an alien” 

Liz reminds Michael that Isobel injected herself, and besides her powers are dangerous.

Michael tries to compare it to, among other things, someone making a serum to decrease her Mexican-ness.

Which Liz claps back - bad comparison - Isobel’s powers are what murdered Rosa. Not the same as being Mexican, Michael.

Michael then tells Liz about Max and Isobel’s psychic connection - if Isobel is hurting, Max will suffer too. So if something happens to Isobel, she’ll be getting revenge on the wrong person.

“Because Max didn’t take your sister from you. All he ever did was love you.”

He says, to the woman he knows deep down loves Max because Isobel invaded her mind and told him so.

Isobel’s room, part 4

Isobel is promising Noah things will be different and there’ll be no more secrets. 

But then she starts coughing up blood, so that kinda ruins the moment.

Isobel passes out and Noah yells for a doctor.

Hospital lab, part 2

Liz tells Kyle that Isobel’s cells are degrading under the microscope. Turns out the serum is attacking her blood.

Looks like Isobel will be dead by the end of the day.

Isobel’s room, part 5

Max is trying (and failing) to heal Isobel over and over while Noah waits in the waiting room.

Max barfs, and Kyle suggests calling loved ones.

Max doesn’t want to call their mom - he’s not giving up.

He tells Liz she can make an antidote, but she says there’s no time.

On the roof of the Crashdown

Liz is listening to music for inspiration when Michael comes to find her.

The only thing she’s come up with is Michael’s alien genius - she wants to know what he knows.

But he doesn’t trust her with it until she tells him that she can’t let Max watch Isobel die.

Michael’s Fun Underground Alien Science Room 

Michael has a ton of research and alien artifacts he’s been working on.

He’s trying to rebuild his ship.

Michael decides Liz needs to know the truth about Isobel sending her away 10 years earlier before she tries to help her.

Liz denies that Isobel was able to do that - she was gonna do it anyway, she says.

Michael shows Liz the weird pod juice he has, and the two of them figure they can work together and come up with a way to put Isobel in stasis.

The hospital

Mrs. Evans is there to visit Isobel and bring her magazines.

Max is trying to keep her away because, you know, the blood and decomposition and all.

But Mrs. Evans is upset by the idea that Isobel doesn’t need her.

She says Max and Isobel never let her be a mother. 

Max says they were happy growing up and their parents gave them so much, maybe they didn’t know how to ask for more.

Mrs. Evans decides she’ll come back tomorrow.

Isobel’s room, part 6

Noah wants an update from Kyle, but Kyle tells him he needs to talk to Max because he can’t disclose anything.

Noah argues that he’s husband and next of kin, and Kyle just answers with “then let me treat her, please.”

Clearly leaving Noah with absolutely no reason to suspect foul play next episode.

Once Noah leaves, Kyle hooks her up with an infusion of nail polish remover.

Isobel doesn’t understand why Kyle is being so nice.

So he explains how when he was an intern he had to learn to be a good doctor to all patients before he could become Dr. McSexy.

Men’s bathroom

Noah takes his frustrations out on the poor men’s bathroom mirror.

Who’s the murderer now, Noah?

You are.

The Pod Cave

Michael and Liz figure the pods are the key to keeping Isobel in stasis - they just have to figure out how to get her in there.

Assuming it’s an organic membrane, Liz figures she can find a way in, and tells Michael to go get Isobel - she’ll have it sorted by the time they return.

Liz sees her silver jewelry react to the pod, and is suddenly grateful she’s wearing A CRAP TON OF IT, apparently, so she can melt it all down to make an amazing silver lotion for Isobel.

Isobel’s room, part 7

Max is super upset with Isobel for choosing to inject herself and leave him and Michael alone on Earth.

He cries at her until she wakes up, telling her he won’t survive losing her.

Then Michael comes in with news - they can save her!

Isobel says she wants a chance to live.

The Pod Cave

The trio arrives - Michael says they went to look for Noah so Isobel could say goodbye, but they couldn’t find him.

Her not being able to say goodbye will in no way come back to bite them all next week.

It will.

Michael and Max promise they’ll remind Isobel of anything she forgets if the pod gives her amnesia.

Isobel gives Max her wedding ring, then lets Liz lube her up for the pod.

Once Isobel goes in, they clean up and Michael leaves so Max can talk to Liz.

Liz wants to know if Max is okay, and suggests he forgive Isobel so it hurts less.

And she always wants him to know that she’s glad Isobel sent her away because she saw two oceans that summer and anyways, they were never meant to be together.

Crushing Max’s little alien heart again.

Max lays a hand on Isobel’s pod - briefly leaving an alien symbol.

On a road somewhere

Jesse tells Cam he’s going out of town and asks her to keep him informed of any weirdness in town. And also to provide him with intel on Alex.

He also reminds her that he can have her sister put back in maximum security with just one call.

Maximum security?! What the hell did Charlie DO?

The Wild Pony

Michael returns the fixed sign to Maria.

Maria confesses that she wanted that sign fixed because her mom recognizes it and always knows she’s home when she sees it.

“Like a beacon” Michael says, pulling out the alien symbol paper. Hmmm.

Max’s house

He cries on Mom’s shoulder.

[venn364]

It’s very hard to explain to Angry Entitled White People in Australia that if they’re angry about the shiz happening in America then they should be equally outraged at the treatment of Indigenous Australians and refugees by the Australian Government. 

Mostly it’s hard because they will absolutely turn a blind eye to the abuse of Aboriginal and Torres Straight Islanders by the Australian Government and the defunding and defrauding of the systems set up to support these peoples by various members of parliament. The White folk call our Indigenous peoples “entitled” or “lazy”, they decry the existence of the dry regions requested by some communities and forced upon others, of supposed government ‘handouts’ that really only serve to make the playing field just that tiny bit more level. They celebrate Australia Day as though the anniversary of the mass invasion of this country by European settlers should be anything but a day of mourning. 

Australia is one of the worst, if not the worst, when it comes to the treatment of so called ‘illegals’. Look up Manus Island Detention Facilities, Christmas Island, Nauru. There are many more but those should give you a good idea. Australia’s treatment of refugees is so bad that Donald Trump has expressed admiration towards them. Let that sink in for a moment.

Sometimes it’s safe for me to call others out on their bullshit, sometimes it’s not. I’m small, I’m queer and I’m chubby. I’ve had seven concussions in my lifetime and I’m not eager for the one that’s going to put me in a coma. Being paler than the moon does not protect me from White arseholes when I speak out as often as I originally thought it would. Some particularly prodigious individuals can smell Irish heritage a mile off so occasionally I’m not only accused of being a ‘reverse racist’ but also a terrorist by those whose historical knowledge extends beyond their primary school history class. I’ve had to learn to pick my battles.

I cannot give you an Indigenous perspective on Australia’s racism because I am not Indigenous. I can tell you that as a white person I am sometimes faced with the threat of physical violence and actual physical violence for speaking up at the wrong moment, which means that it’s most certainly worse for others. I can tell you that I grew up surrounded by friends of Indigenous decent, some of whom are no longer with us due to white violence and all of whom I witnessed being harassed as we grew up. 

I’m not entirely blind to my own flaws. I understand knee-jerk white rage because I get it too. It’s hard not to when you’ve grown up with the US vs THEM narrative constantly being spouted by the media and a whitewashed school curriculum. I don’t give voice to those thoughts. I don’t let them sit and fester, Ido not entertain them in any way because honestly every single one of them is utter bull. I don’t like them. I don’t like that those unwanted relics of an intrinsically racist society still invade my brain when they are not views I’ve ever consciously held, and because I can recognise these intrusive thoughts for what they are I get extremely angry when ignorant white idiots start spouting them as facts. I can only imagine what it’s like to be their target. 

White Australians, if you are angry about what’s happening in America how about you start paying attention to all the things happening in our own bloody back yard. If you’re outraged about the atrocities there, you should be outraged about the atrocities and injustices here. Start listening when Indigenous Australian’s call you out on your bullshit. Get off your “but I’m not a racist” horse and start calling yourself and others out on your own bullshit because, honestly, it shouldn’t be the job of POC to do it for you. Call for action on Australia’s detention facilities. Support your local and rural communities and stop listening to the white crap you’ve been taught to believe. 

I’m not saying it’s easy, because sometimes it’s not. Sometimes you need to work on yourself and your own internalised racism before you can help support others. If it’s not safe to speak against someone publicly or privately, or if you’re not comfortable doing so then just leave. Walk away from them and show your disapproval that way. Your silence coupled with inaction is the same as implicit support. 

Bloody well get moving.

[molgars]

Law student here. Look, anyone who flies the confederate flag is a racist piece of shit with worms for brains, but making it illegal to fly the flag at all is pretty clearly unconstitutional. I’m not saying this because I think that’s a good thing, but because I think it’s important to set realistic goals with activism and this is, unfortunately, simply not achievable without overturning a century of precedent (which this Court will not do, even if their failure to do so is directly harming Black people; the ones who care at all won’t do something that radical, and the majority of the Court straight-up doesn’t give a shit).

If you want an explanation of why this is unconstitutional, here it is.

Tl;dr: You need to show that symbolic speech is intended to incite violence to ban it, and there is no feasible way to prove that every possible instance of flying the confederate flag is intended to do that.

The First Amendment protects political speech more fervently than any other kind, and symbolic speech is included under those protections.

So, no state has attempted to do this specific thing as far as I’m aware, but they’ve done similar things. First there’s Stromberg v. California, where California tried to ban communist flags from being flown. In a 7-2 decision, the Supreme Court held that unconstitutional in 1931.

Of course, the Court acknowledged that there are exceptions to free speech protections, including incitements to violence or sedition (“There is no question but that the State may thus provide for the punishment of those who indulge in utterances which incite to violence and crime and threaten the overthrow of organized government by unlawful means.”). They just didn’t think that flying communist flags did that. Let that sink in: in 1931 the Court said that flying communist flags was protected speech and wasn’t an evident threat to the government. Granted, it wasn’t the Cold War era yet, but our comrades were still pretty politically unpopular; if a flag was gonna get banned, it would be this one.

And while I think it’s undeniable that flying the confederate flag contributes to violence against Black people, that is not quite the same as incitement and is unfortunately not enough to uphold a prohibition on symbolic speech. Under the Brandenburg test, you need to intend to incite lawless action, and the speaker’s conduct must be likely to produce such action.

You’d probably have a helluva time convincing this Court that the confederate flag is likely to produce violence, but let’s say that the Court agrees with you. What would perhaps then actually be constitutional: a statute that bans flying the confederate flag with the intent to intimidate or incite violence (see Virginia v. Black).

“Okay,” you might say, “but if you’re flying a confederate flag, knowing the damage it causes and that it is likely to incite violence, isn’t that basically the same as intending to incite violence? So couldn’t you ban all flyings that way?”

Unfortunately, the Court also addressed that question in Virginia v. Black, which dealt with Virginia’s statute against cross-burning. There was a provision of that statute that stated that burning a cross in public view was “prima facie evidence of an intent to intimidate.” Prima facie means “accepted as correct unless proved otherwise,” so essentially there was a provision that said that burning a cross at all is proof of intent to intimidate. The Court found that that provision was facially unconstitutional under the First Amendment, in part because they held that there are other reasons someone might burn a cross than to intimidate (when making a movie, for example, or, infinitely more horrifically, because you want to express your shared ideology with other KKK members). They almost certainly would find similar justifiable reasons for flying the confederate flag, especially considering the nightmare scenario that is our current SCOTUS.

The best we could reasonably hope for is banning the flag being flown with intent to intimidate, which would maybe be better than nothing. But it doesn’t necessarily get to the root of the problem and, depending on your view of the criminal justice system, could do more harm than good.

That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t use this momentum, though. If you’re a white person who signed this petition, use some of that energy to start holding your racist friends and relatives accountable. We have gotta stop letting other white people get away with this bullshit, because Congress isn’t going to effect the change for us.

COME ON, PEOPLE! WE'RE BANNING THE CONFEDERATE FLAG!

Video by the guy that started it below.

-fae

[whereareroo]

WF THOUGHTS (6/22/22).

Yesterday, the House Committee investigating the January 6th Insurrection conducted its Fourth Public Hearing.

By now, unless you have your head in the sand to avoid reality, it's absolutely clear that Trump and his team pursued a criminal plan to stay in power even though Trump lost at the ballot box. As part of the criminal scheme, Trump and his team improperly sought to influence local election officials and criminally coordinated the submission of fake Electoral College votes. An essential element of the scheme was to incite mob action or violence against election workers and anyone who refused to support the wrongful and illegal actions taken by Team Trump. The Fourth Public Hearing focused on the fake Electoral College votes, the inappropriate contact with local government officials, and the threats made against anybody who did the right thing during the 2020 election and the subsequent circus.

Like the other Public Hearings, the Fourth Public Hearing presented important facts and important legal points. Unlike the previous three Public Hearings, the Fourth Public Hearing was full of emotion. I'm going to skip the facts and the legal analysis. I want to focus on the emotional stuff. Please look elsewhere for the other details.

The value of watching the hearings is that you get to see the demeanor of the witnesses. You get to hear their tone. The intangible vibe from each witness is just as important as what they say.

The witnesses at the Fourth Public Hearing were not attempting to give emotional testimony. The opposite is true. They were trying to control themselves. Despite their efforts to conceal their emotions, the flow of emotion was thick and deep.

Rusty Bowers is the Speaker of the House in Arizona. He's 69 years old. He looks, and sounds, like everyone's favorite Grandpa. He's a man of faith. From the top of his bald head to his toes, he's a staunch Republican. In 2020, he campaigned for Trump and he voted for Trump.

During his testimony, Bowers could not hide his pain, or his sadness, or his utter disappointment. After Biden's victory in Arizona, Trump and his top followers pushed Bowers to use his powerful state office to help Trump overthrow the election. Over and over again, Bowers refused. You could see Rusty's pain about the current state of the Republican Party. What's happened to his party? It used to be the party of honesty and dignity. Now it's the party of lies and illegality. Bowers didn't say any of this--he didn't have to say it. You could see it on his face and you could hear it in his tone. Here's what Bowers did say: "I wanted Trump to win in 2020, but I didn't want him to win by cheating."

Bowers was followed by the #1 and #2 top election officials in Georgia. They're both lifelong Republicans. After Biden won in Georgia, Trump tried to convince them to disavow the legitimate result and find a way to declare that Trump had won. The emotion that came through from these men was anger. They believe that the integrity of the election system is sacred. Their job is to protect the integrity of the election system. They were angry that the President of the United States, a member of their own Party, was trying to upend a legitimate election. They were angry that Trump tried to get them to join his criminal scheme. They were angry that Trump incited his mob to harass and attack those who stood up for the integrity of the voting system.

More emotion came forth from a permanent employee at the Board of Elections in Georgia. In Georgia, the vote counting is recorded on video tape. This woman, who happened to be working alongside her mother that night, was videotaped as she moved lock boxes containing ballots from one area to another. At least 3 investigations have confirmed that this is an absolutely normal part of the process and that it is not nefarious in any way. I should also mention, because I think this is important from Trump's sick point of view, that the young woman is Black and overweight. Trump concocted a story about this video and claimed that the woman and her mother were delivering 18,000 illegal votes for Biden that had been illegally hidden in "suitcases." Rudy Giuliani said the two women were sneaking around like they were doing a drug deal. Using the names of the woman and her mother, Trump issued multiple tweets pushing his concocted "suitcase" story. He gave speeches about it, and in one speech mentioned their names 18 times. Trump's mob responded with an onslaught of threats against the woman, her mother, and even her grandmother. The grandmother's home was invaded by a group of thugs who were seeking to place her granddaughter under "citizen's arrest." At the suggestion of the FBI, due to multiple violent threats, the woman's mother left her home for two months. The young woman herself received thousands of threats, including one that subtly referenced lynching by saying: "Be glad it's 2020 and not 1920." All of this was too much for the young woman to handle. It was too much for her to process. Her testimony reeked with confusion, disillusionment, sadness, pain, shame, humiliation, and totally helpless. She quit her job at the Board of Elections. She doesn't want anyone to know her name. She said that: "I don't do anything anymore. I don't want to go anywhere. I second guess everything that I do. It's affected my life in a major way. In every way. All because of lies." Doesn't your heart break for the young woman? Trump didn't care about who he was hurting. He didn't care about how many people he hurt. The lives of hundreds of other people have been turned upside down by Trump's criminal campaign and his lies.

The other witnesses that I discussed above also recounted, with deep emotion, the threats and attacks that they endured because they did their jobs and upheld their oaths.

During the onslaught against him and his family, everyone's favorite Grandpa (Rusty Bowers of Arizona) wrote a newspaper article explaining why he had to honor his oath of office and rebuff Trump's illegal scheme. Recalling the glory days of the Republican Party, he quoted Ronald Reagan. Reagan started his first inaugural address with the following:

"To a few of us here today this is a solemn and most momentous occasion, and yet in the history of our nation it is a commonplace occurrence. The orderly transition of authority as called for in the Constitution routinely takes place, as it has for almost two centuries, and few of us stop to think about how unique we really are. In the eyes of many in the world, this every-four-year ceremony we accept as normal is nothing less than a miracle."

As Grandpa Bowers was asked about this passage, he almost cried. You could tell what he was thinking: "What happened to the Republican Party of Ronald Reagan? How did we get to this terrible, terrible, place?"

It was a day full of emotion. This awful stuff hits people in the gut. I suppose that's a good thing, but it's painful to watch. All of this pain has been needlessly caused by Donald J. Trump.

Thousands of Americans have experienced personal and emotional pain because they stood up for democracy during the 2020 election cycle. Since our founding, millions of Americans have given their lives to protect democracy. Protecting democracy should be an emotional issue for every one of us. We should feel it in our bones. Given the sacrifices that others have made to protect democracy, the least we can do is vote for candidates who support democracy and reject Trump's "Big Lie." Of course, we should do more than that. Democracy will only survive if we actively protect it. We should all be using our political energy, and our political contributions, to support democratic causes all over America. We need to protect our country. We all need to do some soul searching about this. Don't be afraid to get emotional.

[karfitzmaurice-blog]

IT’S PAINFUL TO WATCH

WF THOUGHTS (6/22/22).

Yesterday, the House Committee investigating the January 6th Insurrection conducted its Fourth Public Hearing.

By now, unless you have your head in the sand to avoid reality, it's absolutely clear that Trump and his team pursued a criminal plan to stay in power even though Trump lost at the ballot box. As part of the criminal scheme, Trump and his team improperly sought to influence local election officials and criminally coordinated the submission of fake Electoral College votes. An essential element of the scheme was to incite mob action or violence against election workers and anyone who refused to support the wrongful and illegal actions taken by Team Trump. The Fourth Public Hearing focused on the fake Electoral College votes, the inappropriate contact with local government officials, and the threats made against anybody who did the right thing during the 2020 election and the subsequent circus.

Like the other Public Hearings, the Fourth Public Hearing presented important facts and important legal points. Unlike the previous three Public Hearings, the Fourth Public Hearing was full of emotion. I'm going to skip the facts and the legal analysis. I want to focus on the emotional stuff. Please look elsewhere for the other details.

The value of watching the hearings is that you get to see the demeanor of the witnesses. You get to hear their tone. The intangible vibe from each witness is just as important as what they say.

The witnesses at the Fourth Public Hearing were not attempting to give emotional testimony. The opposite is true. They were trying to control themselves. Despite their efforts to conceal their emotions, the flow of emotion was thick and deep.

Rusty Bowers is the Speaker of the House in Arizona. He's 69 years old. He looks, and sounds, like everyone's favorite Grandpa. He's a man of faith. From the top of his bald head to his toes, he's a staunch Republican. In 2020, he campaigned for Trump and he voted for Trump.

During his testimony, Bowers could not hide his pain, or his sadness, or his utter disappointment. After Biden's victory in Arizona, Trump and his top followers pushed Bowers to use his powerful state office to help Trump overthrow the election. Over and over again, Bowers refused. You could see Rusty's pain about the current state of the Republican Party. What's happened to his party? It used to be the party of honesty and dignity. Now it's the party of lies and illegality. Bowers didn't say any of this--he didn't have to say it. You could see it on his face and you could hear it in his tone. Here's what Bowers did say: "I wanted Trump to win in 2020, but I didn't want him to win by cheating."

Bowers was followed by the #1 and #2 top election officials in Georgia. They're both lifelong Republicans. After Biden won in Georgia, Trump tried to convince them to disavow the legitimate result and find a way to declare that Trump had won. The emotion that came through from these men was anger. They believe that the integrity of the election system is sacred. Their job is to protect the integrity of the election system. They were angry that the President of the United States, a member of their own Party, was trying to upend a legitimate election. They were angry that Trump tried to get them to join his criminal scheme. They were angry that Trump incited his mob to harass and attack those who stood up for the integrity of the voting system.

More emotion came forth from a permanent employee at the Board of Elections in Georgia. In Georgia, the vote counting is recorded on video tape. This woman, who happened to be working alongside her mother that night, was videotaped as she moved lock boxes containing ballots from one area to another. At least 3 investigations have confirmed that this is an absolutely normal part of the process and that it is not nefarious in any way. I should also mention, because I think this is important from Trump's sick point of view, that the young woman is Black and overweight. Trump concocted a story about this video and claimed that the woman and her mother were delivering 18,000 illegal votes for Biden that had been illegally hidden in "suitcases." Rudy Giuliani said the two women were sneaking around like they were doing a drug deal. Using the names of the woman and her mother, Trump issued multiple tweets pushing his concocted "suitcase" story. He gave speeches about it, and in one speech mentioned their names 18 times. Trump's mob responded with an onslaught of threats against the woman, her mother, and even her grandmother. The grandmother's home was invaded by a group of thugs who were seeking to place her granddaughter under "citizen's arrest." At the suggestion of the FBI, due to multiple violent threats, the woman's mother left her home for two months. The young woman herself received thousands of threats, including one that subtly referenced lynching by saying: "Be glad it's 2020 and not 1920." All of this was too much for the young woman to handle. It was too much for her to process. Her testimony reeked with confusion, disillusionment, sadness, pain, shame, humiliation, and totally helpless. She quit her job at the Board of Elections. She doesn't want anyone to know her name. She said that: "I don't do anything anymore. I don't want to go anywhere. I second guess everything that I do. It's affected my life in a major way. In every way. All because of lies." Doesn't your heart break for the young woman? Trump didn't care about who he was hurting. He didn't care about how many people he hurt. The lives of hundreds of other people have been turned upside down by Trump's criminal campaign and his lies.

The other witnesses that I discussed above also recounted, with deep emotion, the threats and attacks that they endured because they did their jobs and upheld their oaths.

During the onslaught against him and his family, everyone's favorite Grandpa (Rusty Bowers of Arizona) wrote a newspaper article explaining why he had to honor his oath of office and rebuff Trump's illegal scheme. Recalling the glory days of the Republican Party, he quoted Ronald Reagan. Reagan started his first inaugural address with the following:

"To a few of us here today this is a solemn and most momentous occasion, and yet in the history of our nation it is a commonplace occurrence. The orderly transition of authority as called for in the Constitution routinely takes place, as it has for almost two centuries, and few of us stop to think about how unique we really are. In the eyes of many in the world, this every-four-year ceremony we accept as normal is nothing less than a miracle."

As Grandpa Bowers was asked about this passage, he almost cried. You could tell what he was thinking: "What happened to the Republican Party of Ronald Reagan? How did we get to this terrible, terrible, place?"

It was a day full of emotion. This awful stuff hits people in the gut. I suppose that's a good thing, but it's painful to watch. All of this pain has been needlessly caused by Donald J. Trump.

Thousands of Americans have experienced personal and emotional pain because they stood up for democracy during the 2020 election cycle. Since our founding, millions of Americans have given their lives to protect democracy. Protecting democracy should be an emotional issue for every one of us. We should feel it in our bones. Given the sacrifices that others have made to protect democracy, the least we can do is vote for candidates who support democracy and reject Trump's "Big Lie." Of course, we should do more than that. Democracy will only survive if we actively protect it. We should all be using our political energy, and our political contributions, to support democratic causes all over America. We need to protect our country. We all need to do some soul searching about this. Don't be afraid to get emotional.

[naijastudio]

NIGERIA AT 61: The Most Difficult 18 Months in the National past — President Muhammadu Buhari

President Muhammadu Buhari has stated that the last 18 months had been the most difficult in the country's history. He made the announcement this morning in a nationwide broadcast to commemorate the country's 61st Independence Day. According to the president, the country has not faced problems like those it has faced in the last year and a half since the Civil War. “Fellow Nigerians, the past eighteen months have been some of the most trying times in our country's history,” he added. I don't think we've experienced a moment with more heightened challenges than this since the civil war.” President Buhari also revealed that high-profile persons are funding the operations of Nnamdi Kanu, the leader of the Independent People of Biafra (IPOB), and Sunday Adeyomo, a Yoruba separatist leader. He named a sitting member of the National Assembly as one of the secessionists' backers. Buhari stated that the government is prepared to arrest and prosecute anyone who incites violence by words or actions, and that the administration's commitment to a peaceful, united, and undivided Nigeria is unshakeable. The president stated that words sow the seeds of violence in people's minds, claiming that the reckless comments of a few have resulted in the deaths of many innocent people and the destruction of property. Such unfiltered and unverified lies and hate statements by a few terrible people, he believes, must be stopped. President Buhari further remarked that news organizations and commentators must move away from simply publishing reckless utterances and instead investigate the truth behind all assertions and present the facts to viewers. “We must all speak out against the lies that are being spread. At this point, I'd like to express my heartfelt gratitude to a large number of our traditional, religious, and community leaders, as well as other well-intentioned Nigerians, who are openly spreading the message of peaceful coexistence and conflict resolution through dialogue in their respective communities through their various fora. “Nigeria belongs to us all. Its unity cannot be compromised, and its ultimate success can only be realized if we all work together toward a single objective of peace and prosperity for our country. “We will continue to work on solutions that are based on conversation in order to resolve legitimate issues. However, we continue to be prepared to take firm action against separatist agitators and their backers who pose a threat to our national security. “The recent arrests of Nnamdi Kanu and Sunday Adeyemo, as well as the ongoing investigations into their backgrounds, have revealed several high-profile funders. He said, "We are following these financiers actively, including one identified as a serving member of the National Assembly." The president went on to say that if Twitter complied with the federal government's requirements, the suspension would be lifted. He bemoaned the fact that recent events have demonstrated that social media is more than just a harmless tool for disseminating information. Rather, he pointed out that some users have exploited the network to plan, coordinate, and carry out illegal operations, spread fake news, and incite ethnic and religious hatred. To combat these negative trends, Buhari said that the federal government would ban Twitter's operations in Nigeria on June 5, 2021, giving the administration time to put measures in place to solve the issues. “Following the suspension of Twitter operations, Twitter Inc. reached out to Nigeria's Federal Government to resolve the impasse,” he stated. Following that, I formed a Presidential Committee to work with Twitter to see if there was a way to resolve the problem. “The Committee has worked with Twitter, together with its technical Tteam, and has rectified numerous critical issues. National security and cohesion; registration, physical presence, and representation; fair taxes; dispute resolution; and local content are the items on the list. “The difficulties are being addressed as a result of the numerous discussions, and I have directed that the suspension be lifted, but only if the requirements are met to allow our residents to continue to use the platform for business and constructive engagements. “As a country, we are dedicated to ensuring that digital businesses use their platforms to improve the lives of our citizens, respect Nigerian sovereignty and cultural values, and promote online safety,” he said. Buhari said the country has observed a recurrence of insecurity in various sections of the country as the economy continues to free up following the COVID-19-related lockdowns. “Over the previous four months, the valiant men and women of the military and security agencies have made significant headway in confronting these new security problems. We're attacking our adversaries from all sides, and we're winning.” Over 8,000 Boko Haram terrorists have surrendered in the North East region alone, according to the president. “The Nigerian Armed Forces have recruited over 17,000 people across all ranks to support our surge approach to combating banditry. In addition, I have authorized the Nigerian Police Force to hire 10,000 police personnel per year for the next six years. “I'm also happy to report that the majority of the Air Force systems we've acquired in the last three years have begun to arrive in Nigeria. These will have a good influence on our security operations around the country,” he said. As Nigerians prepare to commemorate our sixty-one years as a nation, he says, "we must remember that Nigeria does not begin and finish with the federal government." “This country is a great collective in which the government, at all levels and arms, the business sector, and, most importantly, individuals all have a role. “Security, in particular, is a top-to-bottom endeavor. By joining our hands and hearts, we will be able to protect ourselves and our country. “I well appreciate many Nigerians' concerns about the country's failure to progress from a great nation to a great one, despite its seemingly limitless potential. “Infrastructure, social care, governance, Nigeria's image and influence in Africa and the international community have all improved significantly in the last six years. “However, detractors confuse modest development with stasis. Despite limited resources, this Administration has taken on our problems front on since taking office. Since 1999, no government has done more to get Nigeria back on track than we have in the last six years. “We will continue to serve the country, listen to everyone, and defend our democracy and country,” Buhari said. Nigeria at 61: Currency depreciation, insecurity, high inflation, and insufficient power supply stifle economic growth. As if the negative effects of the coronavirus pandemic (COVID-19) and its associated social disruptions weren't bad enough, the Nigerian economy also had to deal with insecurity, high inflation, poor power supply, and a currency crisis, to name a few issues that hampered its modest growth in the previous year. Despite the government's frantic efforts to contain these problems, the end does not appear to be in sight. The country's Gross Domestic Product (GDP) increased by 5% in the second quarter of this year, reversing the losses that sent it into recession in November last year. GDP increased from -6.10% in the second quarter of 2020 to -0.79% in the second quarter of 2021. Naira In the parallel market, the Naira's value plummeted the most during the year. Following the Central Bank of Nigeria's (CBN) decision to stop providing foreign exchange to Bureau de Change operators and surrender the task of selling dollars to commercial banks for travel allowance, education and medical costs, the Naira began to depreciate. The Naira's value decreased from N395 to N575 in three months, prompting the CBN to target websites that aggregate the currency's street value, such as abokifx.com. Inflation The economy has also been subjected to significant inflationary pressure in the recent year, with inflation rising from 13% to over 18%, eroding many people's purchasing power. From 15.48 percent a year ago, food inflation soared to 22.95 percent in March 2021, the highest level since 2001, before easing to 20.30 percent in August this year. In March 2021, however, headline inflation reached 18.17 percent, the highest level since January 2021, when it was 18.72 percent. However, in August 2021, it fell to 17.01 percent. Nigeria also experienced its largest foreign trade deficit since 1981, with a N7.38 trillion trade deficit in 2020. According to data received from the National Bureau of Statistics, this is the case (NBS). Total imports in 2020 were valued at N19.9 trillion, exceeding total exports of N12.52 trillion, resulting in a trade imbalance of N7.38 trillion, according to a recent international trade report. Nigeria has had a negative trade balance for the second time in the last ten years. In the second quarter of 2021, the power industry contributed significantly to the overall gain in GDP, with the electricity, gas, steam, and air conditioning supply sector growing by 114.30 percent year on year. Recent measures to improve cash returns, such as a 50% increase in electricity tariffs in November 2020 and again in January 2021, as well as greater meter supplies and the federal government's financial investments in the sector, were credited with the increase. Despite massive interventions totaling N4.23 trillion over the last few years, the power industry has seen no change. The performance of Nigeria's power sector has remained terrible, with less than 4,000 megawatts of electricity produced, which analysts say does not represent the country's progress. Nigeria's power generation remained at 3241 megawatts as of September 29, 2021, according to data from the country's System Operation (SO), a far cry from its 13,000 megawatt capacity. The financial industry grew somewhat over the last year, with the nation's capital market gaining N6.5 trillion and pension fund assets increasing by N780 billion between October 2020 and September 2021, according to NAIJAGENRE Friday. The Nigerian stock market has fared admirably in the last year, with market capitalization rising from N14.105 trillion on October 2, 2020 to N20.523 trillion on September 29, 2021. The All-Share Index (ASI) increased by N46.72 percent from 26,985.77 points on October 2, 2020 to 39,592.29 points on September 29, 2021. The N6.5 trillion increase is equivalent to over half of the existing national budget. Similarly, according to the National Pension Commission's most recent monthly report, the nation's pension fund assets increased by N780 billion between October 2020 and July 2021. (PenCom). At the end of October 2020, the pension fund's assets were N12.05 trillion, but by the end of July 2021, they had risen to N12.78 trillion. According to the inquiry, investment income was critical to the continued expansion of pension funds, despite the fact that governments, particularly at the state level, are not paying their workers' monthly pension contributions on time. Similarly, the large increase was related to increased pension contributions, interest on fixed income securities, and net realized on stocks and mutual fund investments, according to research. Meanwhile, despite surviving the COVID-19 pandemic, the Nigerian economy has not had a dull moment in the previous year, with policies and events nearly back to back, with inflation surging from 13% to over 18%, eroding many people's purchasing power. The CBN created the Naira4Dollar initiative to stimulate increasing remittance inflows by incentivizing remittances into the country. After the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) announced the launch of the eNaira on October 4, 2021, the Nigerian banking industry became one of the few countries to have implemented the Central Bank Digital Currency (CBDC). The ICT sector benefited the most from the epidemic because most commercial transactions are now done online, which helps the sector's patronage. According to the latest data issued by the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) on the gross domestic product (GDP), the Nigerian economy's ICT sector expanded by 14.70 percent in the fourth quarter of 2020. The sector was not only the fastest growing, but it was also the only one with double-digit growth, at 12.90 percent, across the full GDP evaluation. According to Isa Pantami, Minister of Communications and Digital Economy, the ICT sector has sent over N1 trillion to the Federal Government account in the two years since his resume in office. Meanwhile, according to statistics released by the Nigerian Communications Commission (NCC), telecommunication companies lost 20.83 million subscribers in the first half of 2021 as a result of the decision to prohibit the sale of SIM cards until the National Identification Number (NIN) registration process is completed. The federal government had opened proposals for the concession of four international airport terminals in Lagos, Abuja, Port Harcourt, and Kano in August 2021. The request for qualification (RFQ) is open to corporations or consortia with a track record in airport terminal management and a net value of N30 billion per bidding firm or consortium, as part of attempts to administer the facilities effectively and profitably. The federal government has previously suggested a concession period of 20 to 30 years for the facilities, allowing private investors to own, operate, and recoup their investments. Following the reopening of the country-wide lockdown imposed by the COVID-19 epidemic, the Nigerian oil and gas industry began to slowly return to normalcy towards the end of 2020. Following the passage of the Petroleum Industry Bill (PIB) 2021 and President Muhammadu Buhari's assent to it, the industry experienced a watershed moment in the previous few months. The bill's main goal is to establish a legal, governance, regulatory, and fiscal framework for the Nigerian petroleum industry, as well as the development of host communities and other associated issues. Furthermore, the federal government announced a meter implementation program under the National Mass Metering Program (NMMP) in November 2020, as part of attempts to close the country's metering gap. This was also done to mitigate the impact of the Service Reflective Tariff on the country's power users. Meanwhile, Nigerian President Muhammadu Buhari announced in March 2021 an ambitious plan to power the country's economy exclusively with gas by 2030. The manufacturing sector, which had been expected to do well after a high performance due to the border closure, experienced a major blow. In the same line, inflationary pressure has remained a cause of concern since COVID-19 disturbed the global economy's demand and supply sides. “The pandemic created unprecedented challenges for economies across the globe as the period under review recorded an unprecedented distortion in the value chain as countries directly or indirectly shut their borders and imposed export restrictions on critical raw materials, while some imposed outright bans on food,” said Engr. Mansur Ahmed, president of the Manufacturers Association of Nigeria (MAN). He went on to say that, in order to mitigate the impact, the government launched a slew of spectacular initiatives in the shape of economic policies, plans, and projects targeted at boosting enterprises and building on previous accomplishments. “It is our conviction that the foreign exchange unification initiative will engender a regime of balanced participation for forex users and promote a transparent as well as efficient allocation of forex required for sustained economic growth,” MAN said, praising the government for its initiative to unify foreign exchange windows in the country. However, the Nigerian Railway Corporation (NRC) has had difficulty purchasing new locomotive engines to operate passenger and goods trains on the narrow gauge railway line since the few engines in its stock break down on a regular basis. Only five operational locomotive engines are currently in the corporation's fleet across the narrow gauge network, acquired during the late Musa Yar'Adua's administration. Rent defaults and legal evictions have continued to rise in stratospheric proportions in the real estate sector, as more tenants face eviction and court proceedings to evacuate their residential units and premises owing to insolvency and rent default. As a result, there is a decrease in the use of office space as more organizations evaluate their space requirements, profit margins, capital formation, overhead costs, and supply side penetration while considering the benefits of remote working and online jobs. The APC has returned Nigeria to pre-independence days – the PDP Meanwhile, the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) declared Tuesday that despite the failures of President Muhammadu Buhari's All Progressives Congress (APC) administration, Nigeria will never fail. In a statement commemorating Nigeria's 61st anniversary of independence, the party claimed that the Buhari presidency and the APC had returned the country to pre-independence days, “with associated bondage mentality and frustration resulting in many losing faith in the system and leaving our country in droves within the last six years.” Kola Ologbondiyan, the PDP's national publicity secretary, said this during a news conference, accusing the APC administration of driving the country to the brink, as evidenced by our daily lives. “Our nation has continued to exist by the resilient spirit of Nigerians,” he said, accusing the APC-led administration of lying, injustice, human rights violations, state-sponsored violence, impunity, nepotism, treasury theft, harsh economic policies, and accommodation of terrorists. Despite the PDP's criticism, Mai Mala Buni, the chairman of the All Progressives Congress (APC) Caretaker/Extraordinary Convention Planning Committee and the Governor of Yobe State, remarked that Nigeria's 61 years of independence give a significant source of unity and strength. The governor stressed that Nigerians should focus on issues that unify the country rather than divisive tendencies, citing the country's long history of integration among various ethnic and socio-cultural groups as a source of unity in diversity. Despite the fact that Nigeria has not yet achieved its goals after 61 years of independence, Governor Buni noted, "we have cause to rejoice our existence as a country." Let us work together for peace and progress. Others, like Lawan, Abdulsalami, and Atiku Abubakar, have urged Nigerians to vote. Ahmad Lawan, the president of the Senate, has urged Nigerians to unify for the country's prosperity and to be loyal to their fatherland. “This is the first year of our seventh decade as a nation, as well as the second year of the third decade of the Fourth Republic,” Lawan said in a message commemorating the country's 61st anniversary of independence. “It strikes me as incredible that we are living in the longest period of democracy in our country's history. “While that may appear to be a minor accomplishment, it is a cause for celebration in light of our political experience. “Every patriot will remember with joy the momentous moment on October 1, 1960, when the British Union Jack was lowered and replaced with our Green-White-Green flag. “That moment represents our independence from colonial tyranny. But it also signals the start of the difficult work that we have set for ourselves: establishing a united, peaceful, and successful nation.” Under the leadership of General Abdusalami, Nigeria has become more united. General Read the full article