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igotanidea · 4 months

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Icarus: Jason Todd x reader

A/N: been a while since the last angst,right? ;)

***

When he came back to the apartment, seeing her fully awake, eyes puffy, red and almost closing sitting in front of the computer and cursing her coworker, he didn't think the night would end up like this.

This, being her patching him up.

And ending up in bed together.

Not to sleep of course.

But the way her fingers danced on his bare, freshly patched and sensitive skin, the way her body got so responsive to all his kisses and licks, the way his name rolled of her tongue in that breathy moan.

"Do you want me...? Tell me..." she begged in a pathetic need to confirm he felt the same for her. That she wasn't just his roomate/ friend-ish, who happened to be around in his moment of vulnerability turning into horniness. That she wasn't just being used as a fleshlight.

"I want you. Fuck, I want you." Jason groaned, intensifing his movements wanting to make her scream, to fullfll that desire and lust flooding his brain. To have her nails rake down his back in some sort of masochistic tendency. He was used to pain. It was familiar.

And he got what he wanted, breaking her for good, her moans and cries of pleasure filling his ears and making him twitch inside her, his eyes falling closed from the intensity of the release.

"I love you...." he whispered.

For a moment he was a king of the world. Flying close to the sun and basking in its warmth.

And then fell back to Earth like a mythological Icarus, realising that he lost control.

Took her to bed.

Said some words he didn't mean.

Lied to her.

The only person who stood by him despite all the bullshit, violence, emotional break-downs.

The only person who actually cared.

And it made him freeze. Then roll off her. And lay on the side, his back to her.

Neglecting all the cuddles and kisses and aftercare she deserved and needed after the rough session he just put her through.

"Jason? " her confused voice echoed in his head. This was too much. He didn't want this. Didn't mean it. Didn't need it. "Baby?" Y/N put a hand on his shoulder in what seemed a comforting gesture. And it made him furious.

"Don't call me that!" he hissed rolling to face her with daggers in his eyes, grabbing her wrist in a iron grip "I'm not your baby!"

"I'm sorry!" she squealed in fear "I'm sorry, but you said-- I thought--"

"Then you though wrong! You get some stupid idea in your head?! A little scenario of me and you being happy toghether!?"

"I didn't --"

"Well you'd better get it out now! Cause this? us?" he almost spit that word "is not happening."

"But you said--" she was now sobbing, unsure of how they got into this screaming and crying.

"Just shut up! Shut up, don't say another word!" he yelled

Poor Jason.

He didn't mean to be violent. Never to her. Never.

But the anger issues mixed with guilt got the best of him. And once he started it was impossible to stop. Even though he hated himself for every word. For every action. For every flash of pain, sadness, confusion and rejection reflected in her vulnerable eyes.

And then it was gone. He got it all out.

And instead of screams the room was filled with silence.

"I should go." she said with shaking voice, wiping her tears away

"No, wait, Y/N, I--"

"No, you were right." her shirt and jeans were finding way back to her body as she hid herself from him and the embarassment that started to creep in. "I got too carried away in my fantasy--"

"you know I'm not the relationship kind of man. Never was."

"You said you wanted me... Why? Was it just the heat of the moment? Cause it's not a game to me. "

"I didn't want to be alone..." he whispered,

"Right." she scoffed "Meanwhile, I was the stupid girl who fell for you. Getting used like a sillly teenager. One and done."

"Y/N...."

He refused to admit and show that her unexpected confession got him spinning and his heart beating faster. She fell for him. She loved him. Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. He lo--

NO! FUCK! HELL NO!

He just destroyed both their friendship and any potential chance of being toghther.

Which he obviously didn't care about.

And was just about to loose her for good, cause she wasn;t going to take any more of his shit. Not after being treated like a one night stand. It was impossible for her to go back to what was before and act casual.

Which he obviously didn't care about either.

"Don;t go..." Jason hated how that sound like a desperate begging. He was never pleading. NEVER.

And that tightening grip on her meant absolutely nothing. Not like he refused to let go or something.

She could go if that was what she wanted.

Clear way.

That grip was not, in any way, a method to prevent the inevitable repercussions of what was coming for them him.

Almost as if he believed that the scraps of affection and attention could make up for both his selfishness and the fuck up that was his fault.

No one else's.

His.

"We can't be friends anymore, can we?" he whispered into space.

"No. No we can't." But you also don't want to be with me..." she sobbed and he couldn't fake it, as much as he wanted to. She didn't deserve to be treated likem this, deceived and lied to.

And he shook his head, raising to the top of his honesty with her.

"We know what we have to do, Jason..."

Yes. They both knew.

Before she could get up and get out of his life, he leaned forward captuing her lips in his. For the last time.

So good. Having those sweet, warm lips that he felt so many times before move against his. So good remembering feeling them on his neck, chest, abs and lower....

One last memory....

Don't go.

"Goodbye Jason..."

It was over.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd angst #red hood angst #jason todd x you #red hood x you

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minimickzy · 11 months

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Literally Just Us || Lottie Matthews

dialog prompts: "Spin the bottle" "It's literally just us

Characters: Lottie x Reader, Van, Natalie, Jackie, and Shauna

Word count: 1529

“Lottie Matthew’s you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” You smirked as you took the joint from her lips and brought it to your own.

“Mm, you flatter me too much.” Her cheeks pushed up and caused the outside of her eyes to crinkle as she smiled, blowing smoke out.

“Not possible”

She laughed, the rosiness of her cheeks intensifing.

“Okay stop hogging it and pass it already.” Natalie deadpanned next to you- making a grabby hand in front of your face.

Lottie, Natalie, Van and you stood outside Lottie’s back door. The inside was buzzing with teens- most already drunk or high as it was rounding midnight.

Your gaze slid across her house, the big windows and golden light peeking out of them. Music seeming to make the stutters shake with the beat.

You must be pretty high already- or maybe just tried because you zoned out thinking about something you wouldn’t remember in 10 minutes when Van blew smoke right in your face, causing you to cough and stumble back in shock as the other three laughed at you.

“Yeah yeah- very funny.” You croaked out between coughs.

The girls calmed down. Lottie finished the joint and stomped it into the dirt next to the deck.

“We should head back in before Jeff and Jackie get into a screaming match again.” Natalie groans.

“Jeff! It was just Shauna it doesn’t count as sex!” Van mocked Jackie’s voice, earning laughs from the others.

“God when is she gonna have her come to Jesus moment.” You asked as you shook your head towards the ground.

“Hopefully soon- I can’t take much more of Shauna's puppy dog eyes- they're like haunting my dreams.” Lottie laughed as she swung the door open.

The party was still in full swing, people milling around with red solo cups and beer bottles. All of Wiskayok’s teens crowded in one house- a house that was amazingly able to fit them all.

Technically this party was for the football team but Lottie's house was the party house because of its size and the fact her parents were always gone and didn’t give a shit what she did.

You could tell it hurt her. You didn’t know the complexity of their relationship and it wasn’t really your place but you could see that they all loved each other- something just stopped them from knowing how to show it.

Jackie and Shauna stood against the counter, bickering about something. Shauna rolled her eyes before meeting yours. “Please tell me you have more beer in the basement Lottie.” She huffed out as she left Jackie with her mouth flapping like a fish.

“Sorry Shauna- we used up the reserves after the game last week.”

“Shit- I guess that’s my cue then.”

Natalie gave her a solute as Shauna gave all of you a little wave, ignoring Jackie on the way out.

You let out a low whistle. Van copied your sound and then joked, “is right. That was hard to watch.”

People were starting to leave in a steady stream. You and Van started to pick up stray bottles and cups as Lottie and Natalie kicked the few people left out.

The four of you stuck together at almost every party, when tai would be willing to put down homework and join, she’d fit in like another puzzle piece.

Because you all were a group and Lottie was the party house owner- it also meant that you’d tend to have a mini sleepover after each party.

Lucky you all had a system and it only took a little less 40 minutes to clean up the mess.

After the cleaning was done the four of you set up camp in the living room. You grabbed the mattress from one of the storage rooms and dragged them in front of the big tv.

Can face planted onto the mattress as soon as it was in place. “This bed is softer than mine at home I swear to god.” The mattress muffled her voice.

“Did you guys wanna play a game?” Lottie asked giving the mattress a tiny kick.

Van flopped her arm up, “To tried.”

“Yeah count me out too, I’m ready to pass out,” Natalie said joining her on the

“Boo. You guys are lame” Lottie laughed in a sing-song voice. She bumped your arm and gave you the big round eyes and little smile she knew would win you over every time. “What about you?”

“Sure lot.” You smiled back at her and she led you to the kitchen with your hand in hers.

She bent over and opened one of the lower cabinets, reaching back at a weird angle with a look of concentration.

“What are you doing?” You chuckled.

“You’ll see.” She continued to rummage for a few more seconds before the look of victory lit up her face. “Gotcha!”

Out she pulled a huge plastic bag of Skittles. “Did you hide that?” You laughed as she looked at the bag in her hands like it was her firstborn.

“Yeah- if my parents from candy they’d throw it out- a bottle of vodka, sure that’s fine but god forbid I eat a snack with sugar in it.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t get your parents.”

“Yeah, I don’t either.” You could hear the shift in her voice. A tone that said more than her words ever could.

You desperately wanted to bring her back to earth with you, in the big kitchen with soft yellow lights and a big ass bag of Skittles. “So!” You clapped your hands together. “What game are you thinking?”

The shift happened again, this time back to the after-party giddiness. “Hmmm, I don’t know…. How about truth or dare?”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay- a throwback to 7th grade. I like it.”

You moved to the parlor (wow you forgot how rich Lottie was sometimes) and kneeled on one side of a coffee table, gesturing for Lottie to take the seat opposite of you.

“Alrighty, your idea so you go first, truth or dare?”

“Truth”

“Do you actually like Jackie or do you only talk to her for the team?”

Lottie made an affronted noise and leaned across the small table to hit you on the shoulder. You made a weak attempt to dodge her attack and laughed, “What?! You have to tell me! Honestly.”

She looked at you seriously but couldn’t hold the façade and laughed. “I can’t stand her”

“I knew it!”

“God don’t tell anyone! I just see how much she hurts Shauna and she doesn’t even realize it! Okay, your turn- truth or dare?”

“Okay- truth.”

“You’re so boring-“

“You literally picked the same thing!”

“Hmmmmm…” she bummed over you. And then squinted her eyes, sizing you up. “Did you actually fuck Randy after homecoming?”

“Oh my fucking god Lottie! No, Jesus, no!”

She laughed and put her hands up in surrender, “Hey I was just checking, that rumor was going around the school for weeks.”

You shuddered, “Lottie no- Randy? First of all- not my type. Second of all never even kissed anyone.”

She gave you a slightly shocked confused look, “I’m sorry what?”

“Yup. Kiss virgin over here.” You have a little laugh trying to lighten the mood.

“Okay, new game- spin the bottle.”

“It’s literally just us.”

“So?”

Your smile faded, the conversation taking a turn you were expecting, and we’re entirely ready for.

“Uh… here..” Lottie stood up and wandered from the room. Leaving you to gawk at where she had just been. You heard some shuffling from the other room, and then water running, before she reappeared- an empty beer bottle in hand. “I got it out of the trash- Don’t worry- I cleaned it.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “Are you being serious?”

Sometimes it was hard to tell when it came to Lottie, whether or not she was serious or just making a slightly off-kilter joke.

“Yeah- a throwback to 7th grade right?”

You took a deep breath as she sat back down across you and set the bottle on its side in front of you. “Right.”

“Go ahead.”

You quriked your eyebrow up

“Spin the bottle.”

“Oh yeah, duh.”

You grabbed the bottle and gave it a steady spin. You knew in your mind it really didn’t matter where it landed, after all there was literally only the two of you.

You must of spun it harder than you thought as the bottle spun and spun for what felt that minutes before lottie spoke up, “I can’t wait any longer.”

She basically lunched herself across the table, cupping your cheeks with both hands and giving you a long, hard kiss.

She pulled back, just a hair, and met your eyes. You could see the determination and sometime akin to passion. “Lot-” She cut you off with her lips, captured yours in a practiced dance.

You only pulled back when you thought you’d pass out from lack of air. “Jesus.”

“No, Just me.” She gave you a cheeky smile as she whipped her chin. “We should play that again sometime.”

“Okay but only when it’s just us.”

#yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews x reader #lottie x reader #lottie matthews

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sevikasangel · 1 year

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Hello Estella! Could you do a headcanon with our lovely Sheriff Grayson or Ambessa Medarda perhaps? The idea is about their fem!reader who's unbearably shy to ask for intimacy [no matter how in love they are] and is caught in a poor attempt trying to get rid of their horniness- and they go ahead and help her while explaining it's nothing shameful? Sorry if it's long.. Love your work!💕💕💕💕🌹🌹🌹

๑❥๑𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒚? 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 — ambessa medarda with a darling who is too shy to act for intimacy. the warlord catches her kitten in a pathetic attempt of pleasuring herself...so let mommy take over, princess.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ambessa medarda x f!reader

— contains: sfw, n sfw, f/afab reader, embarrassed reader, dirty talk, strap-on use, self pleasuring, slight voyeurism, bottom reader, aftercare.

— a/n: mhm, yes, yes i can. gladly. mommy medarda 🥺💍

— ambessa is a partner who is generally tangled up in her duties. surely, being a general eats up most of her time and there is nothing that can be done about it. the powerful warlord must protect all of that noxian glory she helped achieve, after all. she is not available for most of the day, which is the reason why you're always surrounded by maids in the solitude of your house. however, when she is indeed home, you can be sure that her eyes are on you and she's giving you all the attention you so desperately crave.

— you just have this need to be consumed by her entirely. her strong body, enchanting presence, even those glorious scars she so proudly displayed…all of these culminated in such a charismatic, magnetic woman. she had a sort of pull on people. when you hung out with her, it felt like everyone needed to talk to her, every woman's head turned to look at your general. it surely stirred jealousy within you, but ambessa always assured you were her chosen one.

✿⁠ "people will always stare, sweetheart. i am not giving them attention, sweetheart. my eyes are for you, only. you're much better than these strangers, i can guarantee you. my beautiful girl."

— ambessa seemed to know exactly how to make you flustered. she knew you were shy to ask for intimacy with her and she'd use that to her advantage. touching your thigh while you were on her lap, staring deeply into your eyes as you began stumbling with your words. the smirk on her face would grow accordingly to the intensification of the redness on your cheeks.

⁠✿⁠ "u-hum…is that it, darling? hmm…yeah? yeah, baby?"

— then she would just kiss you on the mouth, take you right then and there. nobody ever made you feel so good as ambessa did and she surely ruined you for anybody else. so how come was she still so intimidating in the back of your mind? she could make you feel stars when she ate you out, fingered you to her heart's enjoyment, or even fucked you into brain numbness with her strap.

— some days you felt so shy that you decided to take matters into your own hands. with your fingers buried between your thighs, you touched your sensitive bud of nerves as you pretended that it was ambessa instead. your tiny whimpers and grunts, the way you rolled your hips to chase your pleasure were nothing compared to the mess ambessa would always turn you into. you tried and tried…but nothing. with a frustrated puff and tearful eyes of frustration, you put your hand down and stared at the ceiling.

⁠✿⁠ "well, well…hmm…why stop the show, sweetheart? i was enjoying it. what's wrong, princess? can't make your little pussy feel good like mommy does? awww, that's so adorable, your body is so well-trained for me. good girl. now now, don't fret…let mommy take over, princess."

— in no time ambessa has put on her strap, now between your legs. she pulls your legs to wrap around her hips and leans forward, making you hiss at the feeling of the silicone tip of her cock pressed against your slit, not pushing in yet.

⁠✿ "mommy's little shy princess…look at you all sprawled out for me, such a flustering mess you are, baby. you want my cock, huh? do you want me to fuck this frustration out of you? use your words…oh, i know you can. you can't take care of yourself, baby, you know i have to do it for you. you want me to make you feel good, hmm? look at you babbling and drooling for me…so beautiful. good girl."

— with one hand gripping your chin, ambessa uses the free one to wrap around her cock and slap the tip of it against your wet pussy, making you mewl and cling to her in anticipation. corrupting a virgin was her best choice. your body's desperate responses were quite a sight for sore eyes.

⁠✿ "look me in the eyes while i push my strap inside of you, fill you up soooo nice…oooh, there you go, princess. eyes up here…that's it. u-hum, you look so beautiful like this, if only you could see yourself…never feel shy to ask mommy to fuck you, make you feel good, use this little body of yours…you feel me stretching you out? try as you might, baby, you know you can't fuck yourself this good. your body is mine. it knows it, princess. mommy will always take care of you. hear that? hear the wet noises your pussy is making? fucking music to my ears."

— ambessa fucks you to her heart's content. she never stops at one, not even two orgasms from you. she became addicted to the sight of you melting into a mere puddle whenever she sent you over the edge. she'd give you almost no time to recover before once again being all over you: rather it be fingering, eating you out, making you ride her thigh, fucking you with her strap, all of them…however, she did care about your well-being. after her rough sessions were over, she'd give you a hot bath and kiss you gently on the cheek, assuring you that she loves you and that you can feel safe with her. i will not lie, falling asleep in those strong arms must be one of the best feelings i can think of.

TAGGING: @mukurosbracup @enforcermoss @compressedwaterbottle @petitedeer

#lesbian #wlw #arcane #arcane x reader #ambessa medarda #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda x reader #arcane imagines

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tanadrin · 1 year

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I read your post about like reactionary politics and while I think I agree with you mostly I think it’s a bit of a stretch to equate “antis” to the current surge of anti transphobic rhetoric, esp when that term is so nebulous. Like are we talking about people being weird about kink at pride shit, or people being upset about the production of fictional csem? I think that while def the first person has an internalized reactionary view of sexuality, I don’t see how the second person does beyond like a generalized fear of child exploitation. There’s def like a middle ground between those two positions but I feel like this is not a great example compared to the very cut and dry “trans people are child abusers”

Well, part of the thesis I'm trying to stake out (more or less successfully, depending on how well I did it and whether or not you agree with me) is that there may be differences of degree but similarities in kind between mildly and more severely reactionary/censorious forms of affect-driven fear-based politics, and even socially acceptable forms (like true crime fandom) will tend to correlate with surprisingly vicious reactionary strains in people's otherwise progressive politics, if not even encourage the intensification of these strains over time.

I think it's risky to speak in straightforwardly causal terms, which is what the "pipeline" imagery does: if you hold views X and engage with other people with similar views, over time you will (or are overwhelmingly likely) to progress to certain other views. The Hertzsprung-Russel diagram from astronomy really is a useful metaphor here, I think. If you don't know, if you take all the stars in the sky we know about, and you plot them on a graph where one axis is their luminosity and the other axis is their color, you get an image that looks something like this:

It's hard to observe stellar evolution because it's rarely noticeable on human timescales (outside of the odd supernova), but you can notice patterns in the graph itself. Some of these, like the asymptotic giant branch or the Hayashi track, are reflective of diachronic relationships: how stars evolve over time. Others, like the main sequence, represent a synchronic relationship: stars at the opposite ends of the main sequence don't evolve to the other over the course of their lifetime (a large, bright O star at the top left of the main sequence will never become a red dwarf at the bottom right), but there is a real physical relationship here, about the relationship between mass, luminosity, and color of a star.

I think (to make the metaphor explicit) if you could chart people's tendency to indulge or even cultivate certain kinds of fear-driven ways of thinking, ones which are prone to dehumanizing the other, tickling our collective purity taboo, and exaggerating the threat to oneself and one's ingroup, against their political beliefs, a distinctive track or sequence would emerge: one not necessarily representing a full-blown evolutionary path all people with such tendencies are on, but nonetheless showing a useful relationship between the underlying thought process and the expressed opinions. I think this correlation is especially fertile in some quarters of American politics where it's often heightened by a racial dimension--witness what happens when you try to integrate school districts full of otherwise progressive, white, middle-class parents--but it's by no means solely an American phenomenon. British TERFs and the German anti-nuclear movement are both relevant here.

Now, to be clear, this is just a metaphor. I'm not sure you can give people's political beliefs an easily-agreed-upon Reactionariness Rating (though various dubious experiments in psychometry have tried) or Panickiness Rating. And similar instrumental beliefs can emerge from distinct frameworks about the world: to run with the trans example, person A has fearful and disgust-based responses to trans people bc they have their own hangups around gender and have cultivated an attitude of threat and disgust toward the outgroup; person B just has a cognitive tendency to sort the world into immutable categories, applies this to people also, and so has decided a priori trans people must be wrong about their self-reported experiences, and hasn't given it much thought since then. Both views are bad; but it requires something like the former to turn into Graham Linehan, a real obsessive asshole on a single issue, whereas the latter seems like the default starting position of most cis people before their beliefs are challenged in any way.

So I'm not positing the origin of all reactionary political beliefs here. Just one (I would argue) interesting trend. That said, yeah, I do think a lot of people's objection to (for example) the more fucked-up parts of AO3's archive stems from this impulse. It's hard, when society is increasingly converging on a roughly-though-not-entirely consequentialist understanding of the law and social mores, to make a purely deontological argument against the existence of pure fiction; thus, a lot of censorship regimes, or proponents of those regimes, work really hard to invent consequentialist reasons to support their censorship policies, and one of the only way I've seen these lines of argument really gain traction is by relying on our old friend, this kind of affective fear-driven reactionary politics I do not have a good concise name for. The relative popularity and perceived social acceptability of a particular flavor of affective fear-driven reactionary politics doesn't make it not an example of affective fear-driven reactionary politics.

I think you betray your own biases by your use of terminology: it seems to me that definitionally nothing that is fictional is CSEM. CSEM is used as a term for a very specific reason, because the common parlance, "child pornography," seems grossly inappopriate to, you know. Evidence of an actual crime, whose most central examples (i.e., not teens texting each other pictures of their butts) are records of acts of brutal violence. If I take to twitter and threaten the life of President Jack Ryan, it would be weird to classify those threats as an act of political terrorism, because Jack Ryan is a Tom Clancy character I just picked off a list of fictional U.S. presidents. And depictions of acts of political terrorism in the novels of Tom Clancy are not, themselves, political terrorism, just more schlocky political thriller that makes for decent beach reading. So "fictional CSEM" seems a contradiction in terms, at least in the sense that drives the reason for using the term in the first place.

Trying to censor things which only incidentally resemble other things because of that resemblance is usually bad, IMO! And some people seem to think that recognizing that something can be repellent and offensive to you while not meeting any reasonable criterion for censorship is the same as endorsing it--or, to be more accurate, they pretend to think that, hoping you will forget there are positions besides "think a thing is wholesome and good" and "think a thing should be made illegal."

More importantly, there is a more hard-nosed reason for us to go full "censorship is bad, eat my entire ass" in response to this kind of attitude, which is that censors lie about what they want to censor. "I only want to ban things we all can objectively agree are gross as hell" is a pretty popular position, historically. But then the Parents' Fanfiction Council or whatever gets involved, people try to shift the Overton window on what counts as gross as hell, and--as happened with Hollywood under the Hayes code--the space of acceptable expression contracts until the most vocally censorious are satisfied. The result is that eventually any kind of non-normative self-expression is considered objectionable (because someone somewhere can hammer out a Jesuitical logic whereby a theoretical innocent may come to harm)--and you're not going to protest that, are you? Because surely no decent person would want to read that disgusting filth, right? And you're a decent person.

#this is a way too long response #sorry #the short version is that antis and terfs is the same #and despite not being very personally invested in fanfiction #pearl-clutchers generally really get on my nerves

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katchwreck · 1 year

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Rote Fahne (Red Flag) of February 26 and 27, 1933

Communist Party of Germany (KPD)

'FASCISM IS THE MORTAL ENEMY OF COMMUNISM!'

“Because fascism is the form of government of rotten capitalism against a socialist change of the existing capitalist barbarism. The conditions of their continued existence are the destruction of the revolutionary workers' organizations, the beheading of the fighting proletariat, the annihilation of proletarian leadership. Just as Noske crushed Spartacus in 1918/1919 to give capitalism a break, today, at a new point under the post-war capitalist crisis, the organizing force of the proletarian struggle for freedom must be crushed, they chant. The leadership of the ruling class has changed. Its only enemy, communism, has remained the same. Not a hair of a capitalist has been touched, not a bank expropriated, not a stock exchange newspaper banned. But no KPD newspaper is published anymore. The freedom of demonstration for revolutionary workers has been completely abolished. KPD's election material is confiscated, workers are arrested, anti-fascists are murdered by brown gangs, even a poorhouse raided by fascists. The current regime is the largest concentration of all fascist forces to date. It is at the same time the expression of the extreme intensification of the fascist methods of attack against the proletariat, but at the same time it is also the expression of weakness, of the permanent fear of the mass revolutionary uprising, of the understanding of the bourgeoisie that a solution of the crisis seems impossible for the foreseeable future. Fascism is not capable of remedying the general crisis, of cutting off the nodes and contradictions of the Versailles system, or of satisfying even the most elementary and burning needs of the working masses. The more fragile the capitalist system, the bigger, faster and more surprising the internal and external conflicts will be, the narrower the parliamentary base of fascism, the more obstinately, furiously and violently fascism will try to assert itself. In our unshakable will for socialism, we, the German communists and antifascists, know that we are one with Comrade Stalin, the leader of the world Communist party: for the Bolsheviks, there is no fortress that they will not conquer!”

#German communist party #1933 #germany #marxism leninism #poster #anti fascism

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miraxetine · 9 months

Text

Ecstasy

Words:2,288

Summary:

Ecstasy: an intensification of emotion so powerful as to produce a trancelike dissociation from all but the single overpowering feeling. That is her callsign. Her being recently introduced to the Task Force. Will the members grow addicted? Addicted to the swing on her hips? To the intelligence she holds? The bounce on her curls? Or maybe the mystery within her eyes?

Notes:

Hey! So this is my remake of an old one I wrote. I hope you enjoy! I took a lot of time thinking on the plot and stuff and stuff. This will have more chapters for sure! Shoutout to my friend, R, for helping me with planning and revising. This fanfiction is sort of like a OC and Reader kind of moment, so take that as you will. Also, the tags and this note will be the only trigger warning! Enjoy!!

WILL CONTINUE ON AO3 JUST WANTED TO SHARE ON HERE

- M ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

Work Text:

Ecstasy

“Raven!” The little curly haired girl waved from the top of the big red slide with a smile on her face. She tried to get attention from the named girl, Raven Watts, her best friend. The eight year old slid down, making her way towards her best friend. Raven seemed to be surrounded by other girls around their age. Jogging her way over, she began talking with excitement, “Raven, let’s get on the new slide that was just set up—“ she was cut off.

“I don’t know why her family is getting the cops involved,” Raven was talking to the other girls. “My mom said it was her fault for wearing that skirt. I think my mom is right, I always told her to wear the other blue skirt that my daddy likes. That’s what she gets for wearing that ugly pink skirt!”

“Raven?” the curly haired girl asked with confusion, though she had an idea of what Raven and the others were talking about.

“XXXX! We were just talking about you!” A girl chimed in.

“XXXX, why would you call the cops on Mr. Watts? He’s a great art teacher!” Another girl asked.

“What do you mean?” XXXX asked, her eyes switching from the other two girls to Raven.

“Don’t act silly, XXXX!” Raven said giggling. “You know it was your own fault for getting touched like that by my daddy! I told you not to wear that ugly pink skirt!”

The curly haired girl stood in silence, frozen, and her eyes wide. Her fist tightened up, knuckles turning white and lips pressing against each other.

“So you do know it’s your fault!” Raven started giggling, taking the curly haired girl’s silence as an answer, whilst turning her eyes to the other girls. “You don’t need to stay quiet—”, before she could continue talking, Raven felt a pang travel down her spine after feeling the back of her skull hit the cement floor she was once standing on.

Screams and shouts echoed between the tunnels and slides filling up the park, the yells of horror coming from different mothers and children. But, none of them came from Raven or the curly haired girl herself. Raven wasn't able to speak, she laid blacked out on the floor, nose bleeding, with the curly haired girl sitting on top of her, being the cause of the bloody nose. ambidextrous punches travelled with a surprising velocity towards the face of Raven, precise in the centre of her face. The little girl didn't stop, she wasn't able to, she didn't want to.

“Ecstasy?” Asked Kate Laswell, she looked at the spaced out woman with the given callsign with concern. Station Chief Kate Laswell stood by the end of a conference table next to infamous Captain John Price.

“Ah yes,” The curly haired woman with glasses stood up with a nervous smile, the chair screeching behind her as she made her way towards Laswell, handing her over a black folder. “Here is the file.” Eyes followed the curly haired woman as she returned to her seat, her stature tall, her body curvy and fit hugged by dark blue high waisted fitted jeans, white t-shirt tucked in with a beige tweed blazer on top.

The curly haired child had turned into a woman, now called Ecstasy, callsign recently provided by the station chief herself. Ecstasy now worked in the CIA. She's a specialist in cyber operations, finding and protecting important information, along with following orders from Laswell.

“This would be an explanation to the breach all of you experienced whilst in the safehouse in Mexico City.” Laswell opened the file, her hand fixing the zoom of the projector for everyone in the conference room to observe. “Russian intelligence managed to get into our database, revealing your location.”

Captain Price started to organize the different pages under the projector, his hands evening out the spaces between each scattered paper. “Your database got hacked into?” Price chuckles, “The CIA never ceases to amuse me.” From the corner of his eyes, the captain noticed Ecstasy quickly look down after his comment. He made an internal note on her reaction.

“There is an explanation for it.” Laswell replies dryly.

“There's an explanation for everything, ‘innit?” John replies with certain sarcasm and tiredness in his voice.

A dark voice filled the room, “Obviously you guys gained something while giving away that information.” It came from Ghost. Lieutenant Simon Riley, callsign Ghost. “What did you find out?” Heads turned towards Laswell once again.

Laswell smiles, searches for a specific paper and zooms into it with the projector. The paper was big compared to the other ones, it was a map, an aerial view of Al-Mazrah, Republic of Adal. Red circles, coordinates, and blue exes scattered around the black and white coloured map.

“What the fuck’s that?” Sergeant Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick asked, placing the pencil he was once tapping the table with, flat on the table.

“Ecstasy’s work.” Laswell’s eyes found the curly haired woman’s dark brown orbs before shifting towards Gaz. “These are locations of stolen missiles, given away by Shepherd. These are now in the hands of Russians and Al-Qatala.”

“Shouldn't we contact Farah?” Gaz’s voice filled with worry.

“Farah has already been contacted, she has a copy of the map, and she said she will deal with Al-Qatala.” Laswell assured.

“How did you guys manage to get all ‘o this?” John ‘Soap’ MacTavish got to the point, he looked at the other coworkers of Laswell one of them being Ecstasy herself, waiting for an answer.

“Once again, Ecstasy.” Laswell repeated herself. Soap looked at her with a confused face but he wasn't the only curious one, and this prompted Laswell to nod towards Ecstasy herself, signaling to speak for herself.

Ecstasy looked around the room, taking each man’s vibe in before speaking up, “I work in Cyberspace of the CIA, I found a crack into Russian intelligence but whilst retrieving information, our information got leaked…” she looked down in embarrassment. “Leading to the sudden attack you guys faced in Mexico. They got your guys’ coordinates. It was the only way to get information about the missiles.”

“She almost got us killed.” Ghost stated as soon as Ecstasy finished talking, blaming her for the failed mission.

“No. She got us information on the fuckin’ missiles we've all been crying over.” Soap defended the hacker, “I like ‘er.” he pointed his finger at Ecstasy, he got a shy smile in return.

“So, what's the plan? We go to Al-Mazrah?” Gaz asked.

“After the US placed sanctions against Mexico, Russia did the Zimmermann move the Germans did back in the day.” Ecstasy explained.

“Translate.” Gaz urged.

“Russia has been trying to convince Mexico to buy missiles off of them to attack the US.” Laswell chimed in. “We need to seize and retrieve the missiles from them for the sake of not having another war with Mexico.”

The Task Force remained quiet whilst other soldiers and coworkers of Ecstasy whispered amongst each other not knowing how this would play out. Ecstasy fixed her glasses whilst her eyes scanned every crevice of the conference room, her pair seized moving once caught with another blue pair of eyes, these coated with black paint, Ghost. She smiled at him before quickly returning her attention to Laswell, her chair spinning and her hand travelling to rest under her chin. Ghost followed her movements, how her arm supported the weight of her face and how strangely, a twitch of anger appeared for a second on her face before quickly fading away to the original passive, submissive and shy look on her face. Ghost frowned with displeasure under the baklava he was wearing, attentive of the little façade coming from the named Ecstasy.

“You're not giving us this information for free.” John stated, tapping the map with his index finger. “What do you want us to do?”

“Take Ecstasy with you.” Laswell nodded her head towards Ecstasy, Laswell found herself meeting a pair of widened eyes. It seemed like Ecstasy herself wasn't aware of the deal Laswell was setting on the table.

“You want us to take the ‘lass?” Soap asked, laughing with disbelief.

“I'm not going.” Ecstasy spoke up, she began collecting her things, her voice quiet and nervous.

“She said it herself.” Ghost eyes moved from Ecstasy to Laswell, his head moving first before his eyes. “She's not coming ‘wit us.”

Price didn't seem too fond of the idea of taking Ecstasy with them either. It would be dangerous for Ecstasy herself and for the rest of the Task Force, it'd be tiring for him to babysit another human too, the boys were already a handful. John couldn't afford getting closer to another soul, like Ecstasy, while being in constant danger, while there was a high possibility either of them wouldn't be awake to see the sunrise the next day. He couldn't afford that nor could the rest of the Task Force.

John already preoccupied himself with the fact that Ghost would give up on his life any minute from now, that Soap was crying over his family again, or that Gaz was once again breaking down from all the atrocities he had committed so far after following him into the Task Force. He also had to care for himself. Remind himself that someone out there has to make sure the enemy was still scared of the dark, and that that someone had to be him. List reasons in his head about why he should keep doing what he's doing. He didn't want to worry about Ecstasy. He couldn't. He didn’t have the time or space in his mind to worry.

“Why should we take her with us?” John spoke up, wanting to forget his thoughts.

“She's under constant exposure of being a target of the Russians. She's vital for us, meaning she's vital for you.” Laswell answered. “She can retreat constant information about Russians and provide you with coordinates in Al-Mazrah, the downside is that while hacking she has Russian intelligence hacking her in return, them obtaining her location. We’ve had an incident with her safety before already, we can't have that happen again.”

Ecstasy pressed her lips with displeasure and discomfort. Her mind travelled back to the certain incident.

The pistol in her hand propelled her shoulder backwards, bullets repeatedly entering the chest of the corpse that laid in front of her feet. The man laid with his eyes closed and mouth slightly open, his body jolting after each bullet impacted his lifeless body.

The frame resting on the woman's nose had specks of dark red blood on them, evidence of the kill she had obtained. Her eyes blinked defending her brown pair from the blood entering after each bullet squirted the red liquid out from the body. A tiny smile on her face which grew after the sound of each bullet.

Before she could continue on any further, a loud noise of doors opening and commands of putting the gun down filled the office she was standing in. Immediately, she dropped the weapon, and embarrassed and shy smile on her face. Her eyes met with each officer before meeting with the pair of her boss, Laswell. She who stared wide eyed, in horror, at the scene before her. Ecstasy with her hands in the air, blood splattered on her outfit and her face, a small awkward smile, and the lifeless body before her, a pool of blood surrounding it, along with orifices caused by bullets all over the torso of the man.

“Russian spy.” An officer looked up at Laswell, the man leaned on top of the lifeless corpse, his hands holding some sort of identification.

Laswell’s eyes travelled from corpse to the woman. “XXXX…”

“You're getting the missiles.” Laswell commanded. “And you're taking her with you.”

“I did not agree to this.” Ecstasy laughed with nervousness, her eyes looking for mercy with Kate’s. “I don't remember talking about this.”

Laswell walked towards the hacker with heavy steps, a stern look on her face. Before Ecstasy could speak up once again, she was already being dragged out the conference room, the heavy black wooden door closing behind them. The exit of the two seemed to be the end of the meeting, everybody else in the conference leaving shortly after, though the Task Force 141 remained behind.

Gaz leaned back against his chair, his arms crossed with one of them reaching up to his face, his hand holding up his jaw and his index finger tapping his nose, thinking. “Are we seriously taking her with?”

John sat down by the open file left behind by Laswell, his hands moving papers. “I'll see what I can do.” John also leaned back on the dark conference room chair, holding in front of him the map that was once displayed in front of everyone.

“I don't see why everyone's so sad about it!” Soap stood up from his seat and made over his way to the Captain, touching the papers and picking up a specific stack from the table. “Besides…” He became quiet after his eyes landed on the cover of the clipped stack of papers he had just picked up.

“Besides?” Gaz looked at him.

“It'll be a good opportunity for you to get laid for once.” Soap teased Gaz, his hands moving, turning the stack he was holding to face Gaz. A picture of Ecstasy along with her callsign and specialisation under it. “I wouldn't complain if I were you. She's a pretty thing.”

Kyle’s hands reached out to hold out the bottom of the picture, scanning the female specialist’s face. “I’m not the horny cunt here, Soap.” Gaz roasted back. “She’s all yours.”

#fanfiction #call of duty #cod mw22 #fanfic #idek tbh #modern warfare #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley x reader #john price

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mariacallous · 26 days

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Do Arab leaders have Israel’s back? If one has scrolled through the social media commentary on the combined effort by Israeli, American, British, French, Jordanian, and possibly other Arab governments to thwart Iran’s missile and drone barrage on Israel, one might think so. A bevy of analysts, Israelis, and pro-Israel activists clearly want to believe it.

Alas, that claim is mostly hyperbole. Last weekend was many things, but the dawn of a “new Middle East,” marked by intensified Arab-Israeli cooperation at a renewed time of war, was not one of them. Fortunately, the truth is still reassuring enough.

Israel’s devastating military campaign in the Gaza Strip over the last six months has put significant pressure on its ties with Arab countries, especially Egypt and Jordan. Of the Arab states that have diplomatic relations with Israel, the Moroccan, Egyptian, and Emirati ambassadors remain in the country, though Abu Dhabi suspended its coordination of humanitarian aid with Israel after seven aid workers of the nonprofit World Central Kitchen were killed in an Israeli drone strike. Still, after all of the violence and diplomatic tension, it has become routine for journalists and analysts to ask whether the Abraham Accords, the diplomatic deal that normalized relations between Israel and several Gulf Arab states during the Trump administration, are now dead.

That’s one reason why the display last weekend of regional security coordination under the auspices of U.S. Central Command (CENTCOM) was so important. The other has to do with the United States itself. After more than a decade in which the American foreign-policy community sought to deemphasize, pivot away, and retrench from the Middle East, the Biden administration proved that Washington can be—separate from its confused approach to the war in Gaza—a source of security in the region.

But the conclusions should not be overstated. At the same time that Israel’s friends were high-fiving and the Israelis were publicly thanking the United States, the United Kingdom, France, Jordan, and regional powers for their help, Arab officials and analysts were working hard to temper all the talk about the new Middle East. Jordan’s King Abdullah II made clear that shooting down Iranian drones was a defense of their country’s airspace and that they would do the same if drones were launched in the other direction.

In a private conversation, one keen observer of the region and former Arab official relayed, “It comes down to how states perceive the legitimacy of military action. In the Red Sea, no one wanted to appear to be part of a maritime coalition that was seen to be defending Israel. Last night, countries shot down incoming projectiles because it can be portrayed as defending sovereign airspace and not wanting a regional war.”

Those are important arguments. Given the horrors of Gaza and the concomitant outrage of many Middle Easterners over the deaths of tens of thousands of innocents at the hands of the Israel Defense Forces (IDF), there is not a single Arab leader willing to publicly align with Israel—much less secure it. Still, defending airspace and preventing an intensification of the ongoing regional conflict yields the same result: helping Israel.

Setting aside the cheerleading of recent days, the coordinated military operations that protected Israel from mass casualties and destruction highlight the durability of the Jordan-Israel and Egypt-Israel peace treaties as well as the 2020 normalization agreements. No doubt, relations between the Israeli and Jordanian governments have been under strain in recent years as Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu focused attention on developing ties with the Gulf states and engaged in provocative policies in Jerusalem as well as the West Bank. This created political difficulties for Abdullah, threatening the delicate balance between the demands of Jordan’s majority Palestinian population, its active Islamist movement, and East Bank tribal leaders, alongside the strategic necessity of maintaining a profoundly unpopular relationship with Israel.

The king’s apparent determination to maintain ties to Israel—given their importance to Jordan-U.S. relations—included a security dialogue that remained important to Jordan’s leaders even as other aspects of the relationship with Israel weakened. This security cooperation intensified once Israel came under CENTCOM’s area of responsibility in September 2021. The Egyptians, for their part, do not seem to have played a discernible role in last weekend’s events, but they, too, have ensured that their security dialogue with Israel remains robust and mutually beneficial despite the many crises that have buffeted the bilateral relationship since 1979.

Critics will undoubtedly argue that these securitized relationships are nothing to cheer. The ties between Arab governments—whose legitimacy is compromised, in part because of their ties to the Israelis—and an Israeli state that has dispossessed and repressed Palestinians would not exist but for authoritarian leaders and the support they enjoy in Washington. But this does not negate the fact that the security dialogues that have been underway between these countries for years paid off on April 13.

The same basic argument holds for the Abraham Accords, under which security cooperation developed rapidly after years of informal and secret cooperation. There is no leader in the Gulf who trusts Netanyahu, and they recoil at what the IDF has wrought in Gaza, but the Emiratis, Bahrainis, and the Saudis (who are silent partners in the Abraham Accords) certainly dislike and fear Ayatollah Ali Khamenei and the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps more. This underlines what everyone already knows about the accords and why supporters of the Palestinians are so angry about it: The Arab leaders who have normalized ties with Israel place more value on fending off the Iranian challenge than Palestinian statehood. Despite the absence of some Arab ambassadors in Israel throughout these months of shocking violence, none of the Arab states that have come to terms with Israel have completely broken ties. The Saudi government, for instance, publicly maintains that it remains committed to normalization, though officials in Riyadh say they will require serious progress toward a Palestinian state. Yet even after all the violence and bloodshed of innocents in Gaza, the very fact that the Saudis still want to move forward with the Israelis says a lot about where the Palestinian issue stands among Arab leaders’ priorities.

Finally, after more than two decades during which the American investment in the transformation of the Middle East returned little or nothing, last weekend’s coordinated effort to prevent a wider and more destructive regional war (and, yes, defend Israel) was the result of Washington’s leadership. The episode demonstrates that when American policymakers focus on preventing threats to regional stability and security—as opposed to leveraging the power at their disposal to remake societies—Washington can be successful. Sure, critics will argue that the United States has been destructive in enabling the IDF’s destruction of Gaza. That is a potent critique. Would these observers prefer an all-out war in the region? Some may, given their views on Israel, but U.S. policy dictates otherwise.

Last weekend, there was a lot of commentary on social media and elsewhere expressing amazement at a new Middle East in which countries of the region coordinated an effort to thwart Iran’s attack on Israel. There is something to be said for that. But what’s more amazing when one takes a step back is that war has not actually changed the region that much. Regional governments still hate and fear Iran, harbor no particular commitment to Palestinian justice, want good relations with Israel, and desire American leadership.

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sobbingdistantnoises · 1 year

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SPOILERS FOR UP TO AROIIS BOOK 3

My headcanon design for Lily after their post-Radiance kidnap recovery arc! :) I tried to focus on practicality, so the upper cloak, armorwear, and belts are magneted to stay together; I don't remember whether it was necessarily Lily who used magnets on their outer clothing or not, but I remember someone did, so I call fair game, fjksjsjd. I also tried to focus a bit on the dissociation and intensification of the red + yellow from their light orange after their arc for the symbolism

Tempted to try and draw all the aroiis characters, major and minor, in this style. May be biting off more than I can chew

@icerosesummerbracket

#unreality #art stuff um #ice rose summer #aroiis

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cleromancy · 3 months

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forever obsessed with how tim used the cowl in red robin tbh. and the way kon said so confidently and so incorrectly that tims not a cowl guy hes never been a cowl guy... when its an intensification of his relationship to the mask and to lying and hiding. god i wish that comic had been good and also that the reboot didn't take any of that character development completely and utterly off the rails

#the reboot came at such a bad time for tim personally bc he was in the middle of getting established outside of his original role as robin #and it just made it worse that my enemy lobdell decided to just. make it so tim was never robin in the first place lol #so now what you have is the guy being shundled into damians benchwarmer #(but without any actual benefit *for* damian to be clear. damian might be the first string robin but that doesnt actually mean his char+#is meaningfully prioritized... like Barbara as batgirl lol)#dc

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inefekt · 11 months

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Milky Way at Lake Ninan, Western Australia

Nikon d810a - 50mm - ISO 8000 - f/2.5 Foreground: 6 x 20 seconds Sky: 16 x 30 seconds IOptron SkyTracker Hoya Red Intensifier filter

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kp777 · 2 years

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Revealed: how climate breakdown is supercharging toll of extreme weather

by Damian Carrington

The Guardian

April 5, 2022

The devastating intensification of extreme weather is laid bare today in a Guardian analysis that shows how people across the world are losing their lives and livelihoods due to more deadly and more frequent heatwaves, floods, wildfires and droughts brought by the climate crisis.

The analysis of hundreds of scientific studies – the most comprehensive compilation to date – demonstrates beyond any doubt how humanity’s vast carbon emissions are forcing the climate to disastrous new extremes. At least a dozen of the most serious events, from killer heatwaves to broiling seas, would have been all but impossible without human-caused global heating, the analysis found.

Most worryingly, all this is happening with a rise of just 1C in the planet’s average temperature. The role of global heating in supercharging extreme weather is happening at “astonishing speed”, scientists say.

“The world is changing fast and it’s already hurting us – that is the blunt summary,” said Prof Maarten van Aalst, the director of the International Red Cross Red Crescent Climate Centre. The world is currently on track for a rise of at least 2.5C. Based on what we have experienced so far, that would deliver death and destruction far greater than already suffered.

The key findings

The 12 events deemed virtually impossible without humanity’s destabilisation of the climate span the globe, including intense heatwaves in North America, Europe and Japan, soaring temperatures in Siberia and sweltering seas off Australia.

Seventy-one per cent of the 500 extreme weather events and trends in the database were found to have been made more likely or more severe by human-caused climate change, including 93% of heatwaves, 68% of droughts and 56% of floods or heavy rain. Only 9% of the events were less likely, mostly cold snaps and snowstorms.

One in three deaths caused by summer heat over the last three decades was the direct result of human-caused global heating, implying a toll of millions.

Huge financial costs are also now attributable to human influence on the climate, such as $67bn of damages when Hurricane Harvey smashed into Texas and Louisiana in 2017, which was 75% of the total damages from the storm.

Global heating has been hurting us for far longer than commonly assumed, with traces of its influence as far back as the heatwaves and droughts that triggered the infamous Dust Bowl in the US in the mid-1930s.