#the rest of you who are against trump - thank you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

qqueenofhades · 6 months ago

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Hello, qqueenofhades!

I just want to say, that ever since I discovered you in the week following Biden stepping down, you've actually made me not dread talking about politics. I look forward to your thoughts on what's going on, and I want to thank you for that.

I would love to know: What do you think of the apparent exhaustion from Republicans/MAGA about Trump? People leaving his rallies (and that's not even covering how few are even coming at all or his supposedly needing to pay people to come), and the slew of formers we see at the DNC openly talking about their change in sides. Do you have any ideas about what might be causing this shift? Was it Harris? Was it Jan. 6th? Was it one singular reason, or multiple at once?

Hope you're having a good day.

I think it's a lot of reasons. First, as I said earlier, the whole theme of the DNC is about reclaiming the USA FREEDOM message from the Republicans, who have had a monopoly on it for the past three decades at least and used it to justify even more antidemocratic fascist militant theocratic hard-right turns. The scenes of joyful people talking rousingly about hope, compassion, morning in America, and breaking out into regular USA! USA! chants appeals a lot to the average American, who doesn't want to hear constant violent and negative bile from the Orange Felonious Traitor, because that is literally the only thing he has to offer and it's getting openly more deranged and dangerous every day. The whole Tough Talking Populist Outsider shtick worked in 2016, when Trump didn't have four years of incompetent chaos as the actual president and was just a theoretical concept who a lot of people thought would "smarten up" and take it seriously if he actually won. Likewise, the backlash of white grievance against Obama and the complacency that Trump didn't actually stand a chance was able to be leveraged against the decades of smears that the GOP had already leveled on HRC. Of course, Trump lost the popular vote by 3 million-plus, but the Electoral College did what it's designed to do and he snuck in anyway. But it wasn't a rousing landslide or a thumping victory.

As such, a lot of Reagan Republicans are now turning to the Democrats as the actual pro-USA party, because Trump trash-talks America, calls it a shithole third-world country, bellows about WWIII and the Great Depression, cozies up to foreign dictators, etc etc. Reagan also pitched the sunny message of America as the shining moral hero of the world (he in fact used the Make America Great Again slogan that Trump repurposed), and that likewise resonated with people after the chaos and unrest of the 1970s. Now, we all know that I hate Reagan's ass and I hope he's burning in hell for so many reasons, but his message was effective because it gave people a soaring rhetorical vision to believe in (even while he was often stripping away their economic prosperity in particular behind the scenes, all together now, FUCK REAGAN). But the Republicans who joined the 1980s party are now seeing Republicanism become a tawdry cult centered on, as Geoff Duncan (GOP former Lt. Gov. of Georgia) put it yesterday, the worship of a felonious thug. Trump is wildly anti-America; he only uses it as a vehicle to get what he wants, because Donald Trump is all that Donald Trump cares about. Yes, there are still plenty of brainwashed cultists in numbers great enough to make this election far, far closer than it should ever be in any sane universe, but increasingly even his own cultists don't want to hear it anymore. They keep leaving before the event is over and he's drawing far smaller crowd sizes than in 2016, which as we know is pretty much all he cares about. He has a desperate need for attention and approval to feed his damaged narcissistic-sociopath dementia-riddled brain, and he's just not getting it, while the very real prospect looms that if he loses this election (and it looks more and more like he will) he will go to jail for the rest of his life. Terrifying.

That's why we have the unprecedented spectacle of lifelong Republicans and former Trump voters flocking to Harris in large numbers. We've had Republican speakers at the DNC every night, and they keep playing video montages of former Trump voters disavowing him or explaining that they won't vote for him. If you consider what propelled Trump in 2016 -- conservative white grievance against a black guy named Barack Obama -- the willingness to unhesitatingly embrace a black/mixed-race WOMAN named Kamala Harris is incredible. Many of them were already planning to vote for Biden before he dropped out, but it was no certain thing that they would move from being willing to vote for an establishment old white guy to also being willing to vote for a woman and a person of color. The fact that we've had so many high-profile affinity group Zoom events for Harris, including from truly unbelievable quarters (Republicans for Harris, Mormons for Harris, EVANGELICAL CHRISTIANS for Harris), shows that there is a country-wide exhaustion with Trump's poisonous selfish grievance performances, where he's willing to do anything to anyone and turn the USA into a fascist dictatorship if it will exempt him, personally, from the consequences of his odious actions. That is not a message that any sane person can support, and more and more, they don't. As I have said before, that is why fascist movements always sow the seeds of their own destruction. They work for a while, but eventually they're boring, they're mean, they're exhausting, and they offer nothing for anyone but being angry all the time at everyone. Most humans don't like that, and eventually, they drift away.

I also think that part of the reason Kamala absolutely nailed it with Tim Walz as VP is because Walz is the literal anti-MAGA in every way. We have seen a lot of similar straight white military-vet football-coach-type Middle America older men drift into MAGA grievance politics because it offers a home for guys like them and feeds on fear of the future and fear of the other. They feel like they're being heard and understood, even if they aren't, and they vote Republican because they've grown up with Republicans being the pro-America party (however defined). But because Walz is a straight white married military-vet football-coach guy who actually models a joyful and compassionate masculinity, an openly emotional and supportive masculinity, who talks movingly about his love for his wife and children, who is a hunter and gun owner who nonetheless loves kids more than guns, who has taken his small-town rural-America values and become an effective and genuinely progressive politician focused on making ordinary people's lives better, he offers a total antidote to MAGAism. He shows that it is possible to be a traditionally manly American straight white guy who is not a gibbering conspiracy theory-addled shitbag dedicated to trampling on everyone else out of reactionary fear. He shows those guys that they can embrace the diverse future and not have to fear it, and he gives them a permission structure to vote for Democrats because it's the right thing to do AND feel that the Democrats are now the real pro-America party.

Basically, right now, Walz is the most popular member on either ticket, and he's crushing Vance into oblivion (there's something like a 27-point difference in their favorable/unfavorable spreads) because Vance is a horrible robotic hateful gremlin and Walz is an authentic and genuine person who a lot of traditionally Republican-affiliated men (and women!) can identify with. He's also the guy who came up with the devastating "weird" attack line that the GOP can do nothing with except splutter and whine, like playground bullies, that no YOU'RE THE WEIRD ONE. He models that it's actually normal to want your leaders to be compassionate human beings who want to use power to make your lives better, and not hateful fascist alt-righters dedicated to making you also hate everyone and be steeped in doom and gloom. That is why people responded so well to Obama in 2008 after the turmoil of the Bush Jr. years, and why this feels even more monumental than Obama. We won't know until the votes are counted, but this giant tsunami just rose out of nowhere when Harris took over, and it's speeding forward in a really incredible way. We've got to do the work and we've got to vote, but if we do, we could absolutely pulverize Trump and MAGA to smithereens in a way that means it wouldn't be able to come back for a good long while, and oh, what a glorious day that would be. So yes.

#championashley #ask #politics for ts #harris walz 2024

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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 8 days ago

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just a thought but sebastian and Anne are trying to get mc and sebastian' baby to come to them to prove who it likes better lots of come to daddy/auntie only for the baby to go to uncle ominis the true favorite

Picking Favorites | Sebastian Sallow x OC

THIS WAS SO FUCKIN CUTE TO WRITE AHHH THANK YOU ANON

Words: ~800

Tags: Post Canon, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff, More Fluff

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

Evangeline was not allowed in the room.

Not this time.

The last few attempts to prove who Noctua Sallow loved most had ended in swift and humiliating defeat for both Sebastian and Anne—because every single time, Evangeline and Sebastian's little girl, with her chubby cheeks and wispy dark curls, had made a beeline straight for Mummy without a second thought.

It had become so predictable that Evangeline barely had to do anything; Noctua would take one look at her, light up like a star, and immediately beeline into her arms.

It was obvious in hindsight.

How could they expect to win against the woman who carried her, fed her, soothed her, and rocked her to sleep every night? It was practically cheating.

So, for this round, they had resorted to drastic measures.

Evangeline, amused but cooperative, had been banished to the kitchen under the pretense of fetching more tea and biscuits, leaving the playing field perfectly level.

Or so they thought.

Noctua sat in the middle of the sitting room rug, blissfully unaware that she was currently the subject of an all-out war for her affection, her big hazel eyes flicking between her father and her aunt, who were crouched at opposite ends of the room.

Sebastian leaned forward, resting one hand on the floor, his other still extended toward his baby in open invitation.

“Alright, my little owl. Mummy’s not here to steal you this time, so it’s time to make the right choice.” He wiggled his fingers encouragingly, flashing the same charming, lopsided Sallow grin that had gotten him out of trouble countless times before. “Come to Daddy.”

Anne let out a very loud, very pointed scoff, rolling her shoulders like she was about to enter a dueling ring.

“Oh, please.” She waved a dismissive hand in Sebastian’s direction before tilting her head dramatically at the baby. “Noctua, sweetheart, we both know who spoils you the most.”

Her voice was pure syrup, sweet and inviting, with just a hint of smugness. She grinned, her eyes twinkling as she played her trump card.

“Come to Auntie Anne, darling. I always have biscuits, remember?”

Sebastian snapped his head toward her so fast he nearly cricked his neck.

“Bribery? Really? You’re resorting to biscuits?”

Anne smirked, utterly unbothered. “It’s called strategy, dear brother.”

Sebastian groaned, tilting his head back for a moment before shaking it off and refocusing, his face softening back into the picture of fatherly warmth.

“Noct, don’t listen to her. She’s trying to manipulate you.” He wiggled his fingers again, lowering his voice into the gentle, affectionate tone he used when rocking her to sleep. “Come to Daddy. I’m the fun one. Who gives you the best broom rides? Who lets you sit on his shoulders whenever we go outside?”

Noctua, sitting with her legs splayed out, blinked at him, then at Anne, who, not missing a beat, upped the ante.

“That’s all very nice,” she said airily, “but who makes the best silly faces?”

Without missing a beat, she scrunched up her nose, puffed out her cheeks, crossed her eyes, and stuck out her tongue, contorting her features into something truly ridiculous.

Noctua let out a delighted giggle.

Sebastian shot Anne a deeply unimpressed look. “You look like a deranged diricawl.”

Anne snapped back to her normal expression instantly, eyes sparkling with triumph.

“Who lets you tug on their hair whenever you want? Hm?” She pointed at her own head meaningfully. “Because I don’t recall your Daddy ever letting you yank his hair whenever you please.”

Sebastian scowled. “That’s because she doesn’t need to. I actually keep my daughter entertained.”

Anne smirked, unbothered. “Oh, do you?”

Sebastian doubled down.

“Who,” he said, “is the undisputed champion of animal noises?”

At this, he let out a deep, overly dramatic imitation of a Hippogriff call, complete with a ridiculous flap of his arms.

Anne’s face twisted into something that could only be described as secondhand embarrassment. “Merlin’s sake, Sebastian, you sound like a dying mandrake.”

Sebastian ignored her, keeping his gaze fixed on Noctua, who was still staring at them with fascination.

“Come on, my little owl.” His voice was full of soft, loving encouragement, a gentle push toward inevitable victory. “Just one tiny step. You know I’m your favorite.”

The room fell into a tense, eager silence.

Noctua wiggled slightly. She shifted forward onto her hands.

Anne and Sebastian tensed, barely breathing.

And then—

—Noctua turned away from both of them and speed-crawled in the complete opposite direction.

Straight toward Ominis.

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Seated in an armchair, book in hand, Ominis Gaunt had not been participating in this nonsense.

In fact, he had barely been paying attention, only half-listening to their ridiculous competition as he sipped his tea and enjoyed a moment of peace. He hadn’t even been aware he was in the running.

And yet, before he could fully process what was happening, a small, wobbly weight collided with his leg.

He blinked.

Slowly, he lowered his book—only to find Noctua clinging to his pant leg, looking up at him with pure adoration.

The corners of Ominis’ mouth twitched.

A slow, satisfied smirk curled across his face.

Sebastian and Anne remained frozen, their expressions a mirror of sheer, utter betrayal.

Evangeline, from the doorway with her tea in hand, burst into laughter as Ominis, smug and delighted by his unintentional victory, carefully lifted little Noctua onto his lap.

“…Well, well.” He ran his fingers over her tiny back as she cooed happily against him. “Looks like she’s made her choice.”

Sebastian’s jaw dropped.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?!”

Anne groaned, throwing her arms up. “You weren’t even playing!”

Evangeline, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, shook her head. “You two were never going to win. Uncle Ominis has been the favorite all along.”

Sebastian collapsed onto his back, staring at the ceiling in defeat. “My own daughter. My own flesh and blood. Betrayed.”

Anne crossed her arms, scowling. “She's technically my flesh and blood too! I demand a rematch.”

Ominis, smirking wider now, lightly tapped his fingers against Noctua’s back. “You can try, but you won’t win.”

Noctua gurgled in agreement. Sebastian and Anne glared.

The battle for Noctua’s heart was far from over.

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toournextadventure · 9 months ago

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a novel life pt.5

Summary: Your girlfriend is an up-and-coming serial killer. Your girlfriend's little sister and her partner are also up-and-coming serial killers. With summer fast approaching, maybe you all need to get out of the city. Some fresh air never hurt anybody, right?

Word Count: 4k Warnings: swearing, mentions of Scream violence, smut (18+) Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x Reader (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5)

Life with three chaotic good villains was… interesting.

You didn’t necessarily live with J and Tara; they had their own apartment at this point in time. It had been a decision made after you had officially asked Sam to move in with you. Honestly, it had seemed like a silent relief to both sisters that they didn’t have to tell the other to leave, instead creating a mutual, respectful decision between them.

That did not, however, stop them from coming over to yours and Sam’s at all hours, day or night.

Most of the time they came over for food. Which, to you, was rather ironic considering you were the only one out of the bunch who, on most occasions, couldn’t cook. You were under the sneaking suspicion they simply did it to be close to Sam again. It was understandable. Neither of them could bear to tell her that they missed her. That was something you had picked up on fairly quickly in your relationship.

The other times they came over, however… those were rather interesting. And Sam was not exempt.

“Not in the apartment,” you called out the moment you heard the door open.

“It wasn’t in the apartment,” Tara said with a huff. You knew it was her way of showing she cared.

“It was across the street,” Sam finished, followed quickly by the door clicking shut.

You sighed but quickly went back to your lesson plan. By all accounts, they were correct. It wasn’t in the apartment. And you would give them a little more; they weren’t on the premises either (another new rule you had enacted over the past few months). They were following rules.

Barely. But they were.

There was shuffling behind you - a sound you had unfortunately grown accustomed to - before someone sat down beside you. That was also something you were used to, and Sam’s head quickly fell to rest on your shoulder. Her breathing was even. You placed an awkward, sideways kiss on the top of her head.

“Did they match the criteria?” You asked. You underlined something on your lesson plan.

“Yes,” Sam said. “They matched.”

“She was creeping on some kid,” Tara chimed in from the kitchen. “And no, she wasn’t the mom.”

“Priors?” You asked.

“Stalking and domestic battery,” Sam answered.

“Which is on the list!” Tara called out.

Yes, you supposed they were. And they would know what was on the list; you had given all three of them laminated copies of what criteria could somehow justify their actions. Not that you condoned them, it still gave you the creeps, but if they were going to do it then they were going to be responsible. You weren’t going to be a jail bunny, or whatever they called those people.

Even with them following the rules that you continued to add to, you weren’t comfortable with the fact that they were killing people. Even the most awful people deserved a chance to live, did they not? Capital punishment had never been something you supported, and this was simply an individualistic version of it.

But Sam was pretty, and you loved her, and that alone could trump your personal beliefs.

“There��s no blood on my floor, correct?” You asked.

Sam tensed up against you and lifted her head. The noises in the kitchen ceased. You kept your nose buried in your books out of some sort of silent respect. When Sam stood up, you got your answer. You would give them some time to clean up; sometimes accidents happen.

God, you were starting to feel like your mother.

“There’s no blood on your floor,” Sam said when she finally sat beside you. After having cleaned the floor.

You smiled to yourself before straightening up and looking at her. “Thank you,” you said softly, leaning in for a light kiss on her lips.

The lesson plan was the least of your worries for the evening. Sure, it was almost time for finals, and graduation was in two weeks, but your mind was preoccupied. How long had it been since you had spent any significant time with Sam alone? To the best of your knowledge, it had been at least since you had discovered their… secret.

You could vaguely hear Sam and Tara talking, but you were still staring aimlessly at your books. When had Tara and J done something together last? Not including killing, of course, you knew they did that all the time. But a weekend getaway, or an actual vacation. Had they ever gone on a vacation together? You and Sam surely hadn’t yet.

A-ha! That was it!

It was only a few days later that you talked with J and told them your plan. They practically jumped at the idea. After all, why wouldn’t they? It would give them alone time with Tara - away from New York City - and it would give you alone time with Sam. It only took one evening of planning before everything was set, and all you had to do was tell your respective girlfriends. Easy enough, right?

Oh, how naive you were.

“It’s just for one week,” you practically whined as you followed Sam through rush hour traffic. “Surely that couldn’t hurt.”

“I’m not just leaving Tara alone for a week,” she said without turning around. “Not since the attacks.”

“Darling, you cause the attacks now,” you said. “And so does Tara, and J, and I truly believe they’ll be alright without us.”

You reached out and pulled Sam closer when a car rushed by, splashing water where she had just been standing.

“I trust them,” she said. An exhale. “I mostly trust them.”

“Then where is your concern?” You asked. “Where is your hesitation?”

Sam didn’t say anything. She kept looking out at the street even as you pulled her a little closer, again, to the wall behind you. People continued to mill around and you didn’t want her to get run over, or worse, cussed out. You were aware of how volatile she could get when she was already stuck in her own mind. The last thing anyone needed was for her to lose her temper at some poor passerby who just wanted to keep walking unobstructed.

“I don’t trust other people,” she said, finally turning back to look at you. “They’ve both been attacked, what if it happens again?” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I won’t be there to help.”

You slid your hand down her arm to lock your fingers together. “My love,” you said. You waited until she looked up at you. “Tara is cold-blooded and calculated.” She smiled. “J is from a long line of criminals.” A laugh. “I believe they will be just fine.”

Her smile eased from laughter to something softer. There was a light spark in her eyes, something you only saw when, surprise, she wasn’t worried about Tara. And even though she would never admit it, she worried about J as well. They argued like siblings incessantly, but they cared about each other in their own way. It was almost sweet.

“Okay,” she finally said, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your lips. She tasted of smoke. “One week won’t hurt.”

—---

You were questioning every decision you had made to lead to where you currently were.

If you had known that Samantha Carpenter, who had packed up her life and left on her own at 18, was a horrible road trip partner? You would have gone to Paris with Tara and J. It would have been the same time, give or take, but at least the ride would have been more luxurious.

But no, Samantha Carpenter, a literal Slasher icon, wasn’t a fan of road trips.

Sam sighed, and your grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“My dear,” you said, “we really haven’t got much longer.”

Though your eyes were focused on the road, you heard her shift. “Do you think they’re okay?”

“Yes,” you said quickly, “they’re alright.” Your tone was indicative of just how often you had said that sentence in the past six hours.

“Do I have a problem?” She asked. “Am I overprotective?”

“Yes,” you said. A car passed going far too fast. “You’re overprotective.”

“I need to relax, don’t I?”

You unclenched your jaw and loosened your grip. She was trying. Letting go of the reins wasn’t really something she was adept at. Now, you could understand, your mother was the same way. Not… quite to the same degree as Sam… but it was comparative. You knew, realistically, she wished to relax and enjoy the week. She just needed a moment to decompress and accept that she was allowed to relax.

“Everything will be alright, love,” you said. “They will be fine, and you will be able to relax.” You turned your head to meet her eyes. “I promise.”

She smiled at you and reached over to place her hand on your upper thigh before looking back out her window. Her fingers scratched lightly against your inner thigh. It wasn’t scandalous or risque. At best, it was a comforting touch; she often did it on your arm.

That didn’t appear to matter to your body, which was very much working itself up as she continued her innocent gestures.

You could act on these feelings once you arrived. There would be no fear of anyone walking in on you and interrupting the moment. Wait, that would be wonderful. You could act on those feelings twice! In one night! Just the thought had you shifting in the driver’s seat and ignoring the slight look Sam gave you.

By the time you pulled up to the campgrounds, you were thoroughly wrecked. The very thought of having genuine alone time with Sam was all-encompassing, and you were starting to thoroughly question if you needed to go into town to grab a few things for your stay. This was turning into the best decision you had ever made in your life!

“I’ll stretch my legs while you talk, if you don’t mind,” Sam said once you were both out of the car.

“Of course,” you said as you gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

The small cabin at the front of the park was cute; you didn’t much like the taxidermied deer heads on the wall, but you could look past it. It was homey, and you felt pretty safe considering you were practically in the middle of Nowhere Maine. There were lovely little couches, a beautiful oak end table, and the employee desk looked to be… mahogany? Perhaps?

“You ready to get your keys, camper?” The too-cheery employee asked. It was over the top and slightly grating, but you could appreciate the faux excitement.

He led you to the desk and got to work handing you the keys to the cabin you had rented. It wasn’t supposed to be anything extravagant, more like a place where you could both rest, relax, and enjoy the scenery. A lovely little firepit outside, a hammock, a supplied cast iron skillet. You were in your element.

You hoped Sam liked it too. Surely she would. Hopefully.

“Ready?” You asked as you walked back to the car.

Sam was leaning against the car with a half-finished cigarette resting between her lips. Smoking was a horrid habit; it stunk, it clung to clothes, and it was bad for your health. But you couldn’t deny she looked extremely sexy while she did it. The way her lips moved…

You needed to get her into the cabin. Quickly.

She smiled her beautiful smile. “Ready.” She took one more large inhale of the cigarette before putting it out on the bottom of her boot.

You were feeling very uncomfortable as you opened the door for her and practically raced to the other side. The cabin couldn’t be too far away, the park wasn’t exactly that big. And you were right. The trip only took another 10 minutes before you pulled up to the adorable little cabin.

And it was rather adorable.

It only took a few moments to get the bags from the back and get into the cabin. The inside was just as adorable as you had imagined, and judging by the near-instant relaxation of Sam’s shoulders, she agreed. Internally, you cheered. Hopefully, she could stay relaxed for the week. It was no less than she deserved, and she had more than earned it.

You practically demanded she take the time to sit, walk outside, relax a bit while you made dinner. It wasn’t anything fancy - you may not know how to cook real meals, but you knew how to camp - but it was nice. Something you could finish in only a few minutes that wouldn’t make you both feel miserable after a day of driving. And once it was all over, you could finally take the time to enjoy the feeling of being away from everything.

“How is it, darling?” You asked as you wrapped your arms around Sam’s waist from behind.

She hummed and leaned back into you. “It’s quiet.”

“Is that a good thing?” You asked again. You placed a lingering kiss behind her ear.

Sam turned around in your arms, quickly throwing her own arms around your neck. She looked at peace. You wondered if that was how she had looked before everything had fallen apart for her. There hadn’t been extensive talk of her past, but you knew things had essentially been ruined for her around her teenage years. Had she seemed carefree like this?

“It’s a very good thing,” she said softly.

With her fingers lightly scratching the back of your neck, that uncomfortable feeling continued to get worse. She had made you feel impatient for the past two hours at least. And her hands were on your skin, and she looked so beautiful, and you loved her so much. You could be forgiven for leaning forward to kiss her.

Sam wasted no time in pulling you closer. Her breath tickled against your cheek. With her body pressed entirely against yours, you couldn’t help but notice how perfectly you fit together. That was what love should be. Love was feeling like your bodies were molded, formed specifically to perfect each other.

“Turn your brain off,” Sam whispered against your lips.

“I’m thinking about how much I love you,” you specified.

She smiled. “Stop thinking and show me.”

Your hands slid down her hips to grab her behind her thighs. The pressure on your neck tightened as you lifted her up. She smiled against your lips, and you almost got distracted again. There was nothing quite like feeling Sam smile against you, no matter the circumstance.

You weren’t distracted for long.

There hadn’t been much time to get acquainted with the cabin, but you knew your way around well enough to carry Sam over to the couch. A large window overlooked the main room, and through it, you could see the stars and moon shining down. With the utmost care, you laid her down on the couch beneath you.

“We’re child-free this week,” you said.

She let out a huff of air. “I guess we are.”

“That means we can do whatever we want,” you continued.

Slowly, her smile grew. She was finally understanding what you were getting at. No one else around. That meant no needing to be quiet out of respect for your unwanted guests. Which meant you could do anything you wanted, at any time, for however long you wanted.

The arms around your neck tightened once again, pulling you down into another kiss. You didn’t dare break it as you moved around on the couch, trying to get a little more comfortable without possibly squishing Sam underneath you. At least from the new angle, one of your hands was free.

If there was one thing you didn’t like about Sam, it was that she usually wore tighter clothing. As stunning as she looked in it, it made it a little more difficult to slide your hand underneath her shirt. You didn’t want to make it uncomfortable for her; that was the opposite of what you wanted.

“Hang on,” Sam mumbled against your lips.

Her arms pulled away, but only to your chest. She pushed back against you until you sat up and she quickly followed. You sat mesmerised as she pulled the tight tank off. After all the time you had spent with her, you didn’t think there would ever be a time you weren’t thrilled every chance you got to see her.

“Take it off,” Sam said. The words were an order, but her tone was softer.

Right. Right, you needed to take your shirt off too, you couldn’t just sit there and stare at her the entire night. Well, you could, but you couldn’t only sit there and stare at her all night. Your movements weren’t as sift as hers, instead just pulling your shirt from behind until you could throw it to the floor.

You leaned forward and rested your hands on her hips, eager to remove those pesky pants of hers. They made her legs look wonderful, but they were in the way. But before you actually made a move, you froze and looked back up to meet her eyes.

“May I?” You asked.

There had been numerous occasions where Sam had practically scolded you for stopping and asking. You would know if I didn’t want to, she had said. But you had been raised with manners; only a verbal yes equaled consent. Even though you knew exactly what her answer would be, you wouldn’t dare risk misinterpreting her actions.

“Yes,” she said with a soft smile.

You smiled back, a big toothy grin, before gently laying her back on the couch and sliding her pants down her legs. Inch by inch, you saw her skin exposed. Flawless, even with its flaws. Splendid in its softness, a startling contrast to the roughness of your own fingertips. You could have sat there and worshipped her from her feet to her head, and it would have been an evening well spent.

Once her pants were off, you tossed them to the side and let your hands roam up her legs. Squeezing lightly on her calves - she would appreciate a massage later - before moving up to her thighs. Those thighs that held power behind them, that you loved to feel around your waist. Or your head.

You were so entranced by her that you didn’t even notice her move. The next thing you knew, hands were on your chest and you were falling back onto the other end of the couch. Those thighs you had been so captivated with were now on either side of your hips, and Sam, in all her beauty and glory, was leaning over you.

“You didn’t bring anything special,” she said as she leaned closer.

You squeezed her hips lightly. “No I didn’t.”

“I suppose you’ll have to wait until tomorrow then,” she continued.

Oh, she was going to be mean. It was in the way she slowly, torturously moved her hips. She was in just the right spot for you both to feel the slightest bit of relief, but it wasn’t enough. Not even close. But there was a small uptick of the corner of her mouth, and her fingers were tracing patterns over your chest, and her breath was on your lips, and and and.

If she kept it up, your brain would cease all function.

“You’re teasing,” you said. You did your best not to whine.

“Yes I am,” she said, her hips moving just a little more. “You said it yourself, we’re child-free,” she continued. “Which means no holding back.” There was a glint in her eyes. “Which means I want you to be so frustrated that starting tomorrow, I won’t be able to walk properly.”

Oh. Oh, she was playing a longer game.

You could work with that.

That glint in her eye was dangerous; you had seen it before. She knew what she wanted, and she was going to get it. However, not once did she say you had to stop for the night. You kept one hand on her waist but let the other slid across her hip and down her thigh. Her breath hitched for a moment when you brushed against the inside of her thigh.

Part of you wanted to keep her as frustrated as you were. She had started all of this teasing in the car. You had been feeling pent up for hours already, and she thought she was just going to get off while you suffered? You didn’t show it often, but you could be just as cruel if you wished.

The other part of you wanted to hear her moan.

That was the part that won.

You were soft with your movements, tracing little patterns into her skin as you made your way around her thigh and- oh god she was wet. She had been just as pent up as you, it seemed. Any sensibilities were gone at the knowledge that she had been waiting for you, that she was almost to the point of needy.

Her hips moved to meet your fingers. The softest of moans fell from her lips when you ran your fingers over her clit. There it was, the first sound. The thing that could get you to lose all morals, all thoughts, you were filled with nothing but the desire to please her. To have her moan again and again.

Instinct took over; a primal desire. She was so wet your fingers slid into her with ease. Your mouth fell open as you felt her around you. It never lost its wonder. But you didn’t move your fingers again. If Sam was going to leave you to suffer for the rest of the night, you were at least going to make her work for it.

She let out a small whine when she realised it too.

“Come on, darling,” you said. “Be a good girl and ride my fingers.”

“You’re such a dick,” she huffed. But you noticed the smallest hint of a smile.

Her hands rested on your chest as she started to move her hips. Slowly, methodically, testing out just how much you would actually help her. Which, you would admit, was more than you had initially planned. You hadn’t intended to move at all; she would truly need to work for it.

But the beautiful look on her face, the quiet sounds coming from her lips, the way her body moved against yours? You couldn’t help it. Your hand on her hip helped her move even as she started to speed up. When she was in just the right spot, you would curl your fingers, drawing the most melodic moan out of her. That alone was enough to convince you to help her.

As her movements got faster, you sat up. Her arms quickly wrapped around your neck, holding you closer. You liked this position much better; you could feel every movement, every breath. Her body would tense up when you would curl your fingers, and when you positioned your thumb right over her clit? Oh, it was beautiful.

Sam wasn’t a loud person, but when you were so close, her moans were all you could hear. They were like music to your ears. She was close; you could feel it in her jerking movements and the little whimpers she couldn’t hold back. Your arm snaked around her waist and pulled her flush against you and kissed her.

She moaned into your mouth when she came. Hell, you were so pent up it was almost enough to make you cum. Her movements dictated when you stopped yours; you helped her ride it out until she fell slack into you. She shifted until her head rested on your shoulder.

“You did so good,” you whispered into her hair, leaving a lingering kiss immediately after. “My beautiful girl.”

You couldn’t see it, but you felt her lips press against your bare shoulder.

“What happened to making me work for it?” She asked in a breathy voice.

You let out a short huff of laughter. “What can I say,” you started. “I’d do anything for you.”

#samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter imagine #sam carpenter imagine

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beauty-funny-trippy · 4 months ago

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• TALIBAN spokesperson, Zabihullah Mujahid, told CBS News that the militant Afghan group admires Trump's views. A second Taliban leader said, "Trump might be ridiculous for the rest of the world, but he is sane and wise man for the Taliban." (source)

• Former KKK leader, David Duke, says Donald Trump promoted his racist propaganda about "white replacement" and made them mainstream. (source)

• Neo-NAZI Leader, Jeff Schoep, thanks Trump for promoting their fascist propaganda (authoritarianism, anti-lgbtq, antisemitic, anti-Muslim, anti-democracy), for legitimizing their beliefs, and for bringing white supremacy into the “mainstream.” (source)

America has repeatedly rejected these groups because of their immoral, un-American beliefs, ...but they haven't given up.

They know Trump is the candidate who can tear down the American dream and build the kind of America they desire — a nation where children can be raised in a culture of racism, fascism, and misogyny — immersed in a trifecta of hate. They want to normalize violence and repression against any group of people who are not like them.

The Nazis, the KKK, and the Taliban terrorists are standing with Trump.

Who do you stand with?

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mariacallous · 13 days ago

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What is a country? The way its people govern themselves. America exists because its people elect those who make and execute laws. The assumption of a democracy is that individuals have dignity and rights that they realize and protect by acting together.

The people who now dominate the executive branch of the government deny all of this, and are acting, quite deliberately, to destroy the nation. For them, only a few people, the very wealthy with a certain worldview, have rights, and the first among these is to dominate.

For them, there is no such thing as an America, or Americans, or democracy, or citizens, and they act accordingly. Now that the oligarchs and their clients are inside the federal government, they are moving, illegally and unconstitutionally, to take over its institutions.

The parts of the government that work to implement laws have been maligned for decades. Americans have been told that the people who provide them with services are conspirators within a “deep state.” We have been instructed that the billionaires are the heroes.

All of this work was preparatory to the coup that is going on now. The federal government has immense capacity and control over trillions of dollars. That power was a cocreation of the American people. It belongs to them. The oligarchs around Trump are working now to take it for themselves.

Theirs is a logic of destruction. It is very hard to create a large, legitimate, functioning government. The oligarchs have no plan to govern. They will take what they can, and disable the rest. The destruction is the point. They don’t want to control the existing order. They want disorder in which their relative power will grow.

Think of the federal government as a car. You might have thought that the election was like getting the car serviced. Instead, when you come into the shop, the mechanics, who somehow don’t look like mechanics, tell you that they have taken the parts of your car that work and sold them and kept the money. And that this was the most efficient thing to do. And that you should thank them.

The gap between the oligarchs’ wealth and everyone else’s will grow. Knowing what they themselves will do and when, they will have bet against the stock market in advance of Trump’s deliberately destructive tariffs, and will be ready to tell everyone to buy the crypto they already own. But that is just tomorrow and the day after.

In general, the economic collapse they plan is more like a reverse flood from the Book of Genesis, in which the righteous will all be submerged while the very worst ride Satan’s ark. The self-chosen few will ride out the forty days and forty night. When the waters subside, they will be alone to dominate.

Trump’s tariffs (which are also likely illegal) are there to make us poor. Trump’s attacks on America’s closest friends, countries such as Canada and Denmark, are there to make enemies of countries where constitutionalism works and people are prosperous. As their country is destroyed, Americans must be denied the idea that anything else is possible.

Deportations are a spectacle to turn Americans against one another, to make us afraid, and to get us to see pain and camps as normal. They also create busy-work for law enforcement, locating the “criminals” in workplaces across the country, as the crime of the century takes place at the very center of power.

The best people in American federal law enforcement, national security, and national intelligence are being fired. The reasons given for this are DEI and trumpwashing the past. Of course, if you fire everyone who was concerned in some way with the investigations of January 6th or of Russia, that will be much or even most of the FBI. Those are bad reasons, but the reality is worse: the aim is lawlessness: to get the police and the patriots out of the way.

In the logic of destruction, there is no need to rebuild afterwards. In this chaos, the oligarchs will tell us that there is no choice but to have a strong man in charge. It can be a befuddled Trump signing ever larger pieces of paper for the cameras, or a conniving Vance who, unlike Trump, has always known the plot. Or someone else.

After we are all poor and isolated, the logic goes, we will be consoled by the thought that there is at least a human being to whom we can appeal. We will settle for a kind of anthropological minimum, wishful contact with the strong man. As in Russia, pathetic video selfies sent to the Leader will be the extent of politics.

For the men currently pillaging the federal government, the data from those video selfies is more important than the people who will make them. The new world they imagine is not just anti-American but anti-human. The people are just data, means to the end of accumulating wealth.

They see themselves as the servants of the freedom of the chosen few, but in fact they are possessed, like millennia of tyrants before them, of fantastic dreams: they will live forever, they will go to Mars. None of that will happen; they will die here on Earth, with the rest of us, their only legacy, if we let it happen, one of ruins. They are god-level brainrotted.

The attempt by the oligarchs to destroy our government is illegal, unconstitutional, and more than a little mad. The people in charge, though, are very intelligent politically, and have a plan. I describe it not because it must succeed but because it must be described so that we can make it fail. This will require clarity, and speed, and coalitions. I try to capture the mood in my little book On Tyranny. Here are a few ideas.

If you voted Republican, and you care about your country, please act rather than rationalize. Unless you cast your ballot so that South African oligarchs could steal your data, your money, your country, and your future, make it known to your elected officials that you wanted something else. And get ready to protest with people with whom you otherwise disagree.

Almost everything that has happened during this attempted takeover is illegal. Lawsuits can be filed and courts can order that executive orders be halted. This is crucial work.

Much of what is happening, though, involves private individuals whose names are not even known, and who have no legal authority, wandering through government offices and issuing orders beyond even the questionable authority of executive orders. Their idea is that they will be immunized by their boldness. This must be proven wrong.

Some of this will reach the Supreme Court quickly. I am under no illusion that the majority of justices care about the rule of law. They know, however, that our belief in it makes their office something other than the undignified handmaiden of oligarchy. If they legalize the coup, they are irrelevant forever.

Individual Democrats in the Senate and House have legal and institutional tools to slow down the attempted oligarchical takeover. There should also be legislation. It might take a moment, but even Republican leaders might recognize that the Senate and House will no longer matter in a post-American oligarchy without citizens.

Trump should obviously be impeached. Either he has lost control, or he is using his power to do obviously illegal things. If Republicans have a sense of where this is going, there could be the votes for an impeachment and prosecution.

Those considering impeachment should also include Vance. He is closer to the relevant oligarchs than Trump, and more likely to be aware of the logic of destruction than he. The oligarchs have likely factored in, or perhaps even want, the impeachment and prosecution of Trump. Unlike Vance, Trump has charisma and followers, and could theoretically resist them. He won’t; but he poses a hypothetical risk to the oligarchs that Vance does not.

Democrats who serve in state office as governors have a chance to profile themselves, or more importantly to profile an America that still works. Attorneys general in states have a chance to enforce state laws, which will no doubt have been broken.

The Democratic Party has a talented new chair. Democrats will need instruments of active opposition, such as a People’s Cabinet, in which prominent Democrats take responsibility for following government departments. It would be really helpful to have someone who can report to the press and the people what is happening inside Justice, Defense, Transportation, and the Treasury, and all the others, starting this week.

Federal workers should stay in office, if they can, for as long as they can. This is not political, but existential, for them and for all of us. They will have a better chance of getting jobs afterwards if they are fired. And the logic of their firing is to make the whole government fail. The more this can be slowed down, the longer the rest of us have to get traction.

And companies? As every CEO knows, the workings of markets depend upon the government creating a fair playing field. The ongoing takeover will make life impossible for all but a few companies. Can American companies responsibly pay taxes to a US Treasury controlled by their private competitors? Tesla paid no federal tax at all in 2024. Should other companies pay taxes that, for all they know, will just enrich Tesla’s owner?

Commentators should please stop using words such as “digital” and “progress” and “efficiency” and “vision” when describing this coup attempt. The plotting oligarchs have legacy money from an earlier era of software, which they are now seeking to leverage, using destructive political techniques, to destroy human institutions. That’s it. They are offering no future beyond acting out their midlife crises on the rest of us. It is demeaning to pretend that they represent something besides a logic of destruction.

As for the rest of us: Make sure you are talking to people and doing something. The logic of “move fast and break things,” like the logic of all coups, is to gain quick dramatic successes that deter and demoralize and create the impression of inevitability. Nothing is inevitable. Do not be alone and do not be dismayed. Find someone who is doing something you admire and join them.

What is a country? The way its people govern themselves. Sometimes self-government just means elections. And sometimes it means recognizing the deeper dignity and meaning of what it means to be a people. That means speaking up, standing out, and protesting. We can only be free together.

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bi-astolfo · 3 months ago

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Hey, everyone who didn’t vote because of the administration’s support of Israel how’re y’all feeling now? Huh? Now what? We’re still gonna support Israel under Trump’s administration and he’s signaled that he’s a staunch supporter of the genocide and urges them to “finish the job.” Meanwhile, Kamala Harris spoke out against the killing in Gaza but I guess that doesn’t matter.

Then what about the people at home? If they’re both just as bad when it comes to the genocide in Gaza then why not vote based on another issue? I guess trans people’s lives don’t matter to y’all? Having the supreme court conservatively stacked for the rest of our lives didn’t matter? Abortion rights? Gay marriage? The fact that they attempted a coup and were gearing up to try again if they election didn’t go their way? None of that mattered enough to get you to vote?

A lot of people are saying that anger should be directed toward the right and the people who voted for Trump. But so what? It’s not like my opinion matters to them. As a queer man, my life doesn’t even matter to them. It apparently matters to the the left but your lack of voting sure doesn’t show it.

So yeah, thanks for making a stand! You may have literally picked a hill to die on! Nevertheless, I hope you all live to regret it.

#us elections #donald trump #kamala harris #gaza #israel #politics #rant

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hotheadedhero · 7 months ago

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hey so how do you think 2003 or 2012 Leo would deal with a super sweet yet fiesty s/o? Like he is in their house and he apologises for breaking in, he just needed a safe haven to relax and s/o is like casually “If it was anyone else I’d beat them up, but you can break into my house any time you want. I actually trust you”?

AN: We going with 03! The wheel has spoken :P

Exception

Leonardo x Reader

What a week. As far as cleaning the streets of criminal activity goes, it’s been one of the hardest to date. At every turn, there are muggings, burglary, vandalism, all around chaos. You name it. Pure, unbridled chaos and every time the boys think they’re safe to rest up for five minutes, something else pops up and they’re back at it. By all accounts, it doesn’t make sense. New York isn’t without its delinquency but these rates are bizarre even by their standards. If this is all part of a bigger picture then they’ve got some big fish to fry.

As it would turn out, it was: a large-scale operation by a nameless syndicate, orchestrated in the hopes of tiring out the turtles beyond their threshold. If they’re too overworked to engage in their usual vigilante-ing, thieves and rogue punks alike could swarm the streets without having to worry about capture. It would have worked, too, were it not for one of the crooks and his blabbermouth. They can thank Casey and his questionable scare tactics for that one. Who’s to judge when it gets results?

Regardless, the boys couldn’t wait to settle down back home. Leonardo more so than anyone else. He’s ready to sit down with some candles and mentally scrub himself of this strenuous endeavour. The problem with that, however, is that his siblings have their own unique choices of downtime and they’re not exactly the quietest. Machinery hums on one side of the room, occasionally accompanied by shrieking metal. The other side of the lair vibrates with the heavy boom of hip-hop. Even the gentle click-clack of knitting needles just across from his is grating on the ears. He can typically drown out the sounds of his brothers but he’s worn to the point that even meditation won’t do the trick. There’s only one thing for it: he needs to get some air. Better yet, he needs to see you. It’s been far too long.

Before dating, you both knew there would be nights and even stretches of such where you would go without seeing one another. Plans can change last minute if trouble is afoot. Dates cancelled for the sake of pedestrian safety. That being said, these last half a dozen days have been the longest length of time you’ve endured without each other. Maybe he could surprise you with his return. You’d think he learned from the times he and his brothers have unexpectedly crashed April’s that, that would be a bad idea. This is you, though. Arguably, you’re a bit more temperamental at times but he knows your soft spot for him could trump that. Probably.

Without thinking of the possible ramifications, he trudges along to your apartment. Albeit, it’s taking a lot longer to get than normal. He’s aware of how drained he is but walking through the sewers shouldn’t be this difficult. He’ll be thankful when he finally reaches you. Perhaps he’ll even be lucky enough to lay dead in your arms if he hasn’t pushed his luck by barging in unprompted. He quietly chuckles at himself, knowing you’d call him out for being such a sap.

Leo finally makes it to the manhole cover and pushes it off with some strain. The weight of it burns his muscles, nearing the point of shaking. Nonetheless, he drives through and lets out a breath when it clangs against the tarmac. Not his most graceful of exits but he supposes he can be excused at least this once. The extra ache is worth it for the sweet wave of serenity that washes over him when he sees your window. It’s a dim light. No doubt it’s from your living room lava lamp - the one with the orange wax that emits this gentle, pink-amber glow. It’s reminiscent of a sun-kissed sky that you can enjoy in the sanctuary of your own home. He likes that one. You always turn it on when the city enters night; when you want the sunset to last just that little while longer.

Without wanting to lose another second, he carefully positions the manhole cover back in place and advances up your fire escape. He peeks through your window on the off chance he might catch you. When you’re nowhere to be found, he slides the glass up and climbs through as quietly as his irritated legs will allow him. He’s about to call your name when something suddenly hits him on the head.

“Ow!” he yells out and rubs on the sore spot. The main lights flick on and there you are, standing in a readied pose with your bat raised high. “Couldn’t you do that in a batting cage or something?”

“Leo?” Your eyes gape wide as your stance falters.

In the dully lit room, all you saw was a figure. A figure sneaking into your home. It could have been anyone or anything. Obviously, your first port of call was to take action. Befriending and even dating one of the city’s self-proclaimed saviours means potential for a target on your head. There’s no telling who or what could come for you should they want to lure the turtles in with live bait. What you hadn’t anticipated was your loving turtle in blue to be the one tiptoeing into your apartment. You prop the bat on your shoulder and lean on the wall with the other.

“Ever heard of a phone?” you ask through a playful murmur.

One corner of his lips turns up into a coy smile and he laughs sheepishly, “Sorry, it’s been a long week.”

You have half a mind to remind him why breaking into someone’s home in a crime-infested New York is a recipe for disaster but he looks beat enough as is. Whilst you haven’t had much of a chance to talk this past week, you’re more than aware of what he’s had to deal with. If he’s here now, that must mean it’s been officially dealt with and taken care of. Good thing, too, because it seems like he could drop at any given moment. Oh. The baseball. Your boyfriend has been working himself to the bone and you’ve just whacked him in the face with a baseball.

Bashfully, you click your tongue and glance away. There are definitely better ways to greet your significant other. It’s likely he’ll use this against you when he’s feeling particularly cheeky in the future but you won’t worry about that now. You push your body off the wall and point at him with your baton.

"If it was anyone else, they'd be a bloody pulp by now." You prop the bat on the wall and turn away to your kitchen with a shrug. "But, sure, break in any time you want. You're lucky I trust you."

Your words hold a sarcastic nature, almost satirical, but he knows you mean well. The meaning behind them holds a sweetness. An apology wouldn’t have gone amiss but he did technically break in. He’ll hold his hands up and admit fault. Permission has been given at least. Not that he thinks he needed it before but if it saves him another bruise, it’s a win.

You truly love your friends to pieces but, if you’re being honest, they have their individual set of havocs they’d thrust upon your home were it them in place of your boyfriend. Raph the least, ironically enough, but his sai have a nasty habit of poking holes in your couch any time he sits down. Donnie often has a gadget on him you'd be too fearful of setting your furniture on fire. As for Mikey? He’s a food fiend who can and will deplete you of all your snacks. Let's not forget Casey but he’s a walking health and safety hazard if ever you met one. His visiting rights have been revoked after what he did to your Christmas ornaments and it’s the last time you’ve ever and will host for the holidays. You don’t like to talk about it. So, yeah, if there's any one person who can freely invite themself to your home, it's the turtle you love most.

When you’ve finished packing a cloth with ice, you sit Leonardo down and hold it to his head. His face scrunches up before easing and he smiles at you softly. This may not have turned out to be the romantic surprise he thought it would be but he’s glad to be back in your presence - in your home surrounded by personifications of your selfdom.

“That was a good shot, by the way,” he compliments, sporting that impertinent grin you’d expected.

Your teeth clasp down on your bottom lip, fighting an annoyed smile. “Don’t give me an excuse to use your shell as target practice,” you warn but the following kiss to his bruise reveals your empty threat. “But, thanks. Sorry for hitting you in the first place.”

His brows raise at you. “I’m sure you could make it up to me.”

You hum in response and shove the ice pack in his face. Your choice to tend to his wounds after he impolitely infringed on you is you making it up to him. Ungrateful pinhead. He’s lucky you love him. Very lucky indeed.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2003 #tmnt x reader #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #leonardo #leo #leonardo 2003 #leo 2003 #tmnt leonardo x reader #x reader #request #answered

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schoolhater · 3 months ago

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it is election day. i wrote a little essay to share with my IRLs who can't fathom why i might want to abstain from participating in the bloodshed by putting holocaust harris in power, or giving the transpbobic and anti-abortion green party federal campaign money. i've reposted the entire thing under the cut for anyone who wants to read.

but before i begin: donate to mohammed al-habil. he is recovering from surgery, his little sister is chronically ill. the genocide ruined his senior year of high school. it’s his birthday today. he should be celebrating and instead he’s begging on an internet full of people trying to justify the continued destruction of his entire people.

learn more + donate

i keep hearing from people defending their choice to vote for the genocider that even though the democrats are bad, the republicans are worse. or that this election is the most important one. i often see trolley problems that declare that the *only* people who would suffer under the democrats would be palestine, and, because *americans* would suffer under the republicans, we have to put aside our grievances about the potentially-three-hundred-thousand-and-thiry-five people who have been murdered in the past thirteen months and offer our full support to the person who did it.

nearly every time settler colonialism has occurred in history, the first wave of settlers is some vulnerable yet radicalized population who believes they will achieve prosperity in the new world. the uae-backed rsf is establishing settlements using refugees from other african countries in southeast sudan right now. the first wave of israeli settlers were poor. even herzl planned this in the 1890s, in 'the jewish state' he writes that the first wave of settlers should be poor farm workers. and now, the modern settlers in the illegally occupied west bank live in and they are the most radicalized most. despite facing extreme racism within israel, arab israeli settlers are among the most radical zionists. the first settlers in america were poor and tired religious extremists from britain. when they came here they didn't have shit except the military backing of the empire and the carte blanche to commit massacres of indigenous people.

imperialism needs these vulnerable people. it needs to funnel the oppressed populations it creates back into the machine to enact further violence. these people are effective cannon fodder against the indigenous population. they are vulnerable enough that they cannot resist, but their lives are comfortable enough thanks to subsidized housing and special treatment that they begin to identify wholly with the imperialist entity, so they don't even want to. if you're stuck thinking 'well, of course kamala and trump are the same to palestine, but trump will be worse for us!' you've taken the bait. that's exactly the kind of attitude that is allowing this genocide to happen right now. do you know why the usa gives subsidized healthcare to israelis? why we give so many benefits to veterans? why do thousands of people risk their entire lives to come here after we destroy their countries? the usa wants to recruit you into participating in the genocide of gaza so you never oppose it, because it would mean opposing yourself.

even kamala harris knows this. multiple times she's repeated some version of "sure people care about the genocide, but they also care about the price of eggs" as if these things are remotely comparable. because to her supporters, they are. to americans, the rest of the world does not even exist.

i said this on my instagram story and i'll say it again - we understand that the israeli elections are just a performance of democracy to pacify criticism of a violent genocidal apartheid system. none of us would really care if netanyahu stepped down tomorrow because we would see the bombings continue. well, america is the world's "israel"! to the rest of the world, america is that attack dog that only ever brings death and suffering. and regardless of which party is in charge, that doesn't change. and the democrats arent even hiding it anymore.

what the discourse around this election and seeing so many people i once respected voting for the genocide has taught me is that there is no red line for the majority of americans. we are the most self centered, narrow minded, backstabbing group of settlers on this earth. we have seen the terrorist organization that occupies the land we live on fund 70% of the most vile horrific crimes against humanity - the most nightmare inducing rapes, tortures, kidnappings, incarcerations, concentration camps, people being burned alive, people being ripped apart, rendered unrecognizable as human bodies, literally vaporized, killing over three hundred thousand people over thirteen months - and we still want the entities that did all this to exist tomorrow. we want to invest into a future in which all of this still exists.

and when asked to stop, we will threaten to do worse. a greater evil is imagined.

what does this make us?

....

i refuse to participate in this bullshit even to support a third party candidate. i refuse to be bought. i refuse to invest my time and energy into an institution that kills children. i don’t care who runs it.

i wanted to push back against this idea before the polls close as a sort of last ditch effort to be heard. i am not being heard right now. i have gotten into way too many arguments with people i once respected over why voting in favor of a genocide might not be the best idea. and every time i am met with utter disrespect - i am not treated as a person with a political perspective based on my experiences and learning, i am treated like an idiot. and the people voting for genocide are pragmatists, somehow. in lieu of a reason to disagree with me they resort to belittlement. i feel betrayed. i hope this rant changes some minds; if not, let it explain why i treat you differently now.

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nteyamsully · 2 years ago

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dad!neteyam were teenage reader gets into a fight and shes like really fucking angry and only neteyam can calm her down and its just loads off comfort and cutesy shit to heal my daddy issues

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

thank you for the request anon ! instead of teenage reader, i decided to make the reader as the mom but it still focuses on neteyam and his daughter. i just think it'd be cute too to have it from the mom perspective. i hope you enjoyed this <3 a part 2 is coming !

summary they say a fathers' first daughter is a female version of him. neteyam begs to differ because his princess has way too much fire in her than he did.

pairing dad! neteyam x oc! daughter, neteyam x reader

word count 1.7k

warnings edited, neteyam just being a dad girl, suggestive content, just youngest children doing what they want, mentions of bullying, violence such as punching, blood

glossary yawntutsyìp (darling), pa'li (direhorse)

PART 1 ; PART 2 (wip)

You always had believed that having four kids that weren't too old apart would be a wonderful family balance. The second child would have someone to look up to but also have the responsibility of looking after their younger siblings, the third child would not have to rely only on one older sibling but rather two, and the youngest would be able to learn and receive different insights on things from their older siblings.

Neteyam said that your ideas were always beautiful and well thought. He loved the idea of having a big family with you. And the two of you did.

Nutxe, your oldest child. While he has his mother's attributes, he behaves precisely like his father. His personality always makes you think of Neteyam. Ki'täm, your second child, was a blessing from Eywa a year later. Identical to his father in every way. Your mate has always made jokes about how three Neteyams would protect you because of how each of his sons were like him.

But you didn't stop there; two years later, you had another boy. Ateyo, your son who resembles you. Unlike his older brothers, he would rather spend his time in the deepest part of the forest. Violence had never been his thing, so becoming a warrior didn't come naturally to him.

A year later, Lili was born. Neteyam loves his sons with his whole heart, but when he his daughter came out of your womb, a new sense of protectiveness awakened in him. It was already clear to you that your babygirl would be a daddy’s girl.

She was constantly spoiled by Neteyam. He was always giving in to her doe eyes, which she used against him since she knew her father would never say no to her. Even as she was growing, she continued using the same tactic.

Your now-teenage children were leaving the hut as you watched them and spoke enthusiastically about being approved to stay a litte late after eclipse. You sighed disapprovingly and looked at your partner.

Incongruously, Neteyam smiled. He moved up to you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he encircled your waist with his arms. “They have grown,” he solemnly said.

“No, Mr. Sully,” you laughed. “You do not get to escape this by throwing the trump card. You have to learn how to say no to Lili.”

“I cant believe she is thirteen now,” he sighs.

“Neteyam!” you exclaimed, slapping his hand that rested on your hip.

Your mate chuckles, digging his face on your neck. “I hear you, yawntutsyìp. But know it is difficult when our daughter is exactly like you. Ateyo doesn’t use it against me, but Lili does.”

“And she knows it. It almost feels like if our youngest child attempts murder, you would let her get away with it because she is your favourite.”

Neteyam pouted as he took a step back, holding your shoulders gently as he turns you around. “Lili would never attempt murder.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Enough.” Neteyam pulls you closer to him by tugging the band of your loincloth. “The children wont be here soon. Let’s do something fun.”

Your hands rested on his chest. Before a word could leave out of your mouth, he pressed his lips against yours. You didn’t realise how much you’ve missed having moments like this with Neteyam. It has been far too long.

“Cant believe that you managed to get Dad to say yes,” smiled Ki'täm.

Because their father was aware of the risks posed in Pandora, it was occasionally challenging to win his permission. As lovely as the forest is, it is also dangerous.

Nutxe scoffed, “That’s because this little manipulative baby sister of ours did her magic.” He playfully glared at her before pinching her cheeks.

Lili hissed and slapped his hand away. “Be thankful that I had dad say yes because I’m about to make your life more exciting than it was when you were my age,” she says proudly.

While rolling his eyes, Ateyo kept silent. His sister having anything she wants was never something he liked. At least when she hasn't done anything to deserve it. Never did their father treat them unfairly, though.

Neteyam promised that he would treat all of his children equally. The intense pressure from his father that he experienced as a teenager was something he didn't want with his children. While Neteyam adores his father, he can't help but admit that he was cruel at times.

Ki'täm noticed his younger brothers’ silence, observing how a frown formed on his face. He wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. “What is wrong? I thought you would love this.”

Ateyo clicked his tongue. “Mom didn’t look like she was happy about it. And you,” he looked at Lili, “stop acting so spoiled.”

Lili rolled her eyes. “This again. Jealous that I get to do whatever I want?”

“Why would I be jealous for being a spoiled brat?” he argued.

“What the hell is your problem?” she exclaimed. “You should thank me that you get to explore the forest around more.”

Ateyo clenched his jaw, holding himself back from raising his voice. He could feel his anger rising by the second and he knew the choice to keep his mouth shut is better. Lili never backs down from anything she sees as a challenge, and by the looks of her face, she sees her argument with her brother as one too.

He always had to be the bigger person between them.

Nutxe pushes his arm in between them quickly. “Stop. You are attracting other people,” he whispered harshly before looking around, making sure that his grandfather isn’t on sight to witness this.

Jake had witnessed far too many of their disputes and had reprimanded them much too frequently when they're involved in violent tussles with other kids. He is Olo’eyktan, it is his duty to make sure there is peace and harmony within the clan. It's not simple at all, especially with his grandchildren causing problems all around.

Just as Nutxe started to feel relieved that both of his siblings listened to him, it disappeared immediately when he heard a voice laced with venom speak up.

“Don’t bother, Nutxe. Your baby sister loves all the attention.”

Risei. She was the bully of the clan. When Lili was a little girl, she witnessed her wrongfully verbally abusing a young na'vi. They were ridiculed only for their personality trait and shyness. Lili reacted angrily to the Risei's audacity by confronting her, however it didn't end happily ever after. And that was how their rivalry began.

“Do not start, Risei,” Lili snarled, her fists clenched. Ki'täm held her forearm and urged her to walk away, but she didn't budge.

Risei mockingly laughed, “Is that supposed to be a threat? You look like a baby pa’li who reacts when they don’t get what they want!” She peered over her little group, seeing them chuckle at her words which made her ego boost.

Ki'täm begged, “Lili.” He didn’t want to get in trouble yet, not when he wanted to explore the forest after eclipse.

“Ah, I forget,” Risei snapped her fingers in fake realization, “You get what you want. You must not know how it feels like, is it why you’re acting like this? Did daddy not give you what you want?”

And something snapped in the youngest sibling. Lili pushed Ki'täm's hold off of her and scowled at Risei. The girl was too busy laughing with her companions to notice her menacing aura. Risei was caught off guard when she felt something hard make contact with her nose, which caused her to lose her footing and collapse to the ground.

“I am so sick of you,” Lili seethed. She didn’t give her time to process and hovered above Risei, continuously slamming her fist on to her.

Risei’s friends hissed and were about to grab Lili, but Ki'täm quickly wrapped his arms on one of them to stop them from getting near. “Nutxe, Ateyo, grab the other two!” he yelled.

Ateyo groaned. Following what his older brother instructed was not the best course of action, but at this point it seemed to be the only option. If a girl attacked his sister, he would gladly be violent for her, but he knows his father and grandfather would skin him alive. As a result, he followed Ki'täm's suggestion.

Nutxe rolled his eyes at their stupidity. He quickly stepped in front of one of Risei’s friends, preventing them from interfering. “Do not,” he ordered, which thankfully they listened. He turned back to his sister, seeing that she had completely executed her anger.

“Lili!” yelled Nutxe. He attempted to pull his sister off her by the shoulders, however, his efforts were futile because she withheld great strength. She’s not recognised as potentially the next best warrior of their clan for no reason.

But the calls of her name were unheard to her. All she could see is red. Truthfully, she wasn’t angry with Ateyo. Her disagreements with him were monotonous and repetitious, which irritated her. Risei had always bothered her and each time, she bottles up her anger to refrain herself from going feral. Bottling all that anger was clearly a bad idea because it still exploded violently.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!” A loud and authorative voice boomed. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop Lili. “Hey! That’s enough!” A pair of strong arms engulfed around her, carrying her off the ground. She growled and kicked her feet in the air.

“Lili te Suli (Y/N)’ite. That’s enough!”

Her eyes were still filled with rage, but she continued to breathe heavily. Jake studied Risei's features. A cut on her lip and brow, a broken and bleeding nose, and an eye that is beginning to bruise. He shook his head slowly.

“I am fine,” Lili grumbled in his arms.

Jake dropped her on the ground lightly, staring at his granddaughter intently. “Yeah, I could see that.”

Lo'ak arrived on the scene, wondering as to why everyone was gathered in a circle. His father, whose hands were on his hips and who had his niece in his line of sight, caught his attention first. Then he noticed a female who was weeping with a totally messed up face.

“Oh shit,” he mumbled, eyes wide.

Jake rubbed his temple. “Lo’ak, call your brother and his mate to meet in the family hut,” he looked at the three boys who stood in their positions nervously, “the rest of you follow me.”

Lili remained glued to the spot while keeping an eye on Risei. She was completely guilt-free. She had it coming to her. She deserved it after repeatedly harassing and tormenting defenceless people.

“Lili te Suli (Y/N)’ite. Lets go!”

The voice of the Olo’eyktan made her move. She knew she’s fucked when her parents will find out and her doe eyes wont work this time.

don't forget to reblog, like, and comment your thoughts <3

#avatar fanfiction #avatar twow #james cameron avatar #jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully fic #neteyam fluff #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x reader #loak fanfiction #loak sully

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misfitwashere · 20 days ago

Text

Here's how Trump's vengeance machine works

He's the mob boss who keeps his hands clean while others do his dirty work.

ROBERT REICH

JAN 24

Friends,

Sorry to intrude on you again today, but now that we have come to the end of the first week of Trump II, there’s much to say about the new regime.

For one thing, Trump’s vengeance machine is even more dangerous than it was before.

The Biden administration had given security protection to Trump’s former secretary of state, Mike Pompeo, his former top aide, Brian Hook, and Trump’s former national security advisor, John Bolton. That was because of credible intelligence showing all three in danger of being killed by agents of Iran. During the first Trump administration, they had authorized the drone strike that killed the powerful Iranian general Oassim Suleimani in early 2020, and Iran is out to get them.

The outgoing Biden administration privately told the incoming Trump administration that the threat against the three continued. “As recently as the end of last week, two separate government representatives, two separate government agencies called,” Bolton told The New York Times. “They said our current assessment is that the threat level remains the same.”

But on Tuesday, with no explanation, Tump revoked their security protection. They are now at the mercy of Iranian agents in America.

What had they done to deserve this treatment by Trump? They had committed the sin (in Trump’s mind) of being more loyal to America than to him.

Pompeo had warned Republicans at the Conservative Political Action Conference in 2023 not to look to "celebrity leaders" with "fragile egos. Hook was part of the old Republican foreign-policy establishment (Trump fired Hook on Monday). Bolton had become an outspoken critic Trump.

If you think Trump’s nominee for FBI director, Kash Patel, will protect them from violence, think again. All three are on Patel’s enemies list, which is basically Trump’s enemies list. (I’ll have more to say about Patel next week when he’s up for senate hearings.)

This is how the Trump vengeance machine works. Trump is the mob boss who keeps his hands clean while others do his dirty work.

Who else is likely to do Trump’s dirty work?

Trump has pardoned all the men who attacked the U.S. Capitol on his behalf on January 6, 2021. Trump says they were not violent and did not have weapons — but the world saw their violence; they were also caught on video. Nearly 175 used dangerous or deadly weapons, according to prosecutors.

They also threw Nazi salutes, posted they intended to start a civil war, vowed “there will be blood,” and called for the lynching of Democratic lawmakers.

They attacked police with flag poles, bear spray, and a metal whip. They choked officers with their bare hands. They were convicted for, among other things, “hurling officers down a flight of stairs and plotting to kill FBI agents investigating the attacks.”

A video shows them attacking Officer Michael Fanone, who suffered a heart attack and traumatic brain injury that day. Later he and his family received death threats after he testified in Congress on the incident. They beat Police Officer Daniel Hodges and crushed him in a door, his mouth filled with blood while he cried out for help.

Now, courtesy of Trump, all these thugs are back on the street. Does anyone really think they will live out the rest of their lives peacefully?

Some of the police officers, including those who testified in January 6 cases, have said they fear for their safety now that the insurrectionists have been released.

“I JUST GOT THE NEWS FROM MY LAWYER… I GOT A PARDON BABY! THANK YOU PRESIDENT TRUMP!!!” Jacob Chansley, dubbed the QAnon shaman as a reflection of his horned-animal headdress and body paint that day, posted on X. “NOW I AM GONNA BY SOME MOTHA FU*KIN GUNS!!! I LOVE THIS COUNTRY!!! GOD BLESS AMERICA!!!!”

Jackson Reffitt, who reported his father Guy’s participation in the January 6 riot and was a key witness against him, told reporters he fears for his life now that his father is free.

When Stewart Rhodes, leader of the Oath Keepers, was sentenced to 18 years in prison for his role in the riot, the judge said: “You are smart, you are charismatic and compelling and frankly that’s what makes you dangerous. The moment you are released, whenever that may be, you will be ready to take up arms against your government.” And, presumably, arms against Trump’s enemies.

How many nut-jobs does it take to physically attack someone whom Trump has deemed an enemy? Just ask Paul Pelosi.

Trump doesn’t deliver violence himself. He just says awful things about a person who has crossed him, like Nancy Pelosi, knowing this will be enough to trigger threats or actual violence by one of his followers.

Ask the judges and prosecutors who have tried to hold him responsible.

It doesn’t matter if the awful things Trump says about them are outright lies. In 2018, Trump tweeted a video of Rep. Ilhan Omar that falsely claimed she was dancing on the anniversary of 9/11. She received death threats.

Trump directs his mob with winks and nods. “You had some very fine people on both sides,” he says, reassuring violent bigots where his sympathies lie.

“Stand back and stand by,” he says, teeing up the thugs, and then: "Big protest in D.C. on January 6th Be there, will be wild!"

His henchman Elon Musk gives a Nazi salute and then denies that’s what he meant, but the neo-Nazis get the message.

Trump’s vengeance machine isn’t only about retribution. It’s also intended to intimidate Trump critics — force them to think twice before sounding any alarms, and chill public knowledge or debate about what Trump is doing.

Be warned. Be safe. And to the extent you can, protect people Trump slams.

#robert reich

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