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sweet-as-an-angel · 7 months

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Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having a Boyfriend

Warnings: Yandere Behaviour, Obsessive Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Age Gap, Suggestive Themes, Stalking, Monitoring, Implied Yandere MILF, Implicit Threats, Implied Blackmail, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

♡ There is no measure of fury capable of being held or produced by Hell and Earth that can rival that which fires through Dominic’s veins.

♡ At first, he didn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. That his (Y/N) would sever his heart from his chest and run it into the ground.

♡ He thinks – knows – that you’re being held against your will. That’s the only reasonable explanation for this…lapse in judgement, as he sees it.

♡ However, when he watches you from his window leaping into your male friend’s arms, being swung in a display of greatest enthusiasm, Dominic knows he’s being delusional. A rare instance of self-awareness.

♡ Initially, he considers this a curse; the fact that your heart lay in the hands of another. But, the longer he stewed over this development, considered any and every point that would grant him vantage, he began to see it as liberation. A cover beneath which he could operate until he struck from the bushes, his viperous intent strengthening.

♡ He is still amidst the throws of fury, but his wrath is not directed towards you. Rather, that juvenile sack of meat and electricity you donated your time to.

♡ Dominic knows that your ‘boyfriend’ will never love you like he does; that you won’t understand how boys are interested in one thing only. Dominic should know; he’d been a young man once. His psychology was his greatest burden and insight.

♡ He starts taking note of your new, adjusted schedule; the days you reserve for your dates – a long-dead excursion in Dominic’s eyes, not having felt any excitement on a ‘date’ aside from his chance encounters with you.

♡ He follows you, sees which restaurants, cinemas, arcades, shopping centres you enter. And, when the moment is right, when he sees the two of you at the pinnacle of happiness, he acts.

♡ In whatever way he can, he breaks up your dates, saying how it’s “Crazy that you’re here, (Y/N) – what a coincidence,”

♡ When you introduce him to your boyfriend, he flashes a smile only he can see is disingenuous. Grabbing your boyfriend’s hand and shaking it with enough force to give the impression that your boyfriend is weak – boneless – compared to Dominic, the former of the two taken off-balance.

♡ “Better watch your step there, Kid,” he says. There’s grit in the road of his voice, but you’re piloting an aircraft. Your boyfriend is on a bicycle.

♡ “You’re no use to (Y/N) broken,” he jokes. Something flashes behind his eyes. “Or dead.”

♡ He insists that he drop the two of you home. He knows neither of you drove here.

♡ You can’t say no to your favourite neighbour, who lets you sit in the front seat while he makes your tag-along sit in the back like an animal. An outcast.

♡ Anything to make him look weak. Undesirable. The runt of the proverbial litter.

♡ Dominic drops you home. Tells you he’ll be back soon. And, without asking for directions, begins his embarkation to your boyfriend’s home.

♡ Neither say a word to each other. Seemingly aware of their position in each other’s world.

♡ Pulling up outside your third wheel’s house, Dominic leaves him with only a parting phrase.

♡ “Imagine what else I know about you. What little secrets you’ve been keeping.” He serves a frozen stare in the rearview mirror. “If you leave (Y/N) alone, you’ll never have to find out.”

♡ You never saw your boyfriend again after that. Never heard a peep from him over text, never received a call, never even saw him walk down the street.

♡ Of course, you were confused. But more so, you felt uprooted. Forcibly extracted from the life of someone you cared deeply about. Someone who, evidently, didn’t care as much about you.

♡ Eventually, after monitoring you for those first three weeks, those three, long weeks where every inch was laden with shattered glass and stretched on into infinity, Dominic came to you.

♡ Offered you comfort.

♡ He only wished he could have come sooner, but he knew you’d just react with anger. An emotion he couldn’t risk you feeling towards him, even for a second.

♡ And, just as he’d rehearsed a million times, just as he’d lay in bed, sat in his office losing himself to the phantom of your fleeting warmth he’d patchworked together into a blanket from your previous encounters, he came to your door. Knocked. Entered your home. Opened his arms to you.

♡ And the collective euphoria from his every vivid daydream couldn’t compare to the electric joy which made his heart stop. Resuscitated him.

♡ Your head was to his chest before he could encase you in his embrace. He lay his arms upon you, the snake to your Eve, and held you.

♡ “It’s okay, Darling,” he said, his voice low, as if his wife could hear from across the street. Or from the camera she’d implanted into that new vase she’d bought you last week.

♡ You twitched in his arms with every sob. Dominic could feel your tears soaking through his shirt. His now-favourite shirt. One which he’d never wash again.

♡ In his languid daydreams, he’d imagined you thanking him thoroughly for his kindness, his empathy, professing how you’d been so blind to his love before submitting to him entirely.

♡ But, for now, this victory was enough. To have you as close as you’d ever been, your body curled into his chest as he ran a hand through your hair, your warmth leaking into him.

♡ His warmth that he wanted to see leaking out of you.

♡ His lips to your hair, he resisted the tempestuous temptation to take you now. At your most vulnerable, most suggestible. Your most submissive.

♡ To show you that he can please you in ways no mere boy can.

♡ Instead, he took to trying not to inhale your scent, replace one vice with another, to not replenish his memory of you anew.

♡ “I’m here. I’m here.”

♡ His voice is soft, feather-light. It belies all he has done to get to where he is now.

♡ And all he will do to get to where he needs to be.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad

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revolutionarysuicide · 2 years

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Leslie Feinberg talking about how before there was a pride flag, the Gay Liberation Front flew the North Vietnamese flag

source

video transcription below cut

Video description

Leslie Feinberg stands at a podium giving a talk. Zie says:

In fact, we carried, before we had a pride flag, we carried the North Vietnamese flag as our pride flag. Now you could hear that and think "well that's interesting", but it wasn't just an abstract thing.

(And by the way, I know there's some people who have to leave at, uh, for a nursing class here; nobody's gonna look at you funny when you go. I know people are starting to get nervous about—don't worry, you go with our grace.)

So, the Gay Liberation Front and the Third World Liberation Front named themselves in solidarity with the North Vietnamese people at a time when that was considered treason. That's like now, coming out and defending the resistance of the Iraqi people, the Palestinian people, the North Korean people, the Iranian people, the Cuban people. We face getting beaten up on the streets for marching with the Vietnamese flag but we knew that if we didn't defend the Vietnamese people we were gonna weaken, first of all the people who deserved our support because we were the aircraft carrier in which the war was being launched in all our names. We would lose the solidarity with the Vietnamese people and we would lose our own political souls and movement as well if we didn't take a position in support.

We were supporters on the front lines of the women's liberation movement even when there were some who didn't want us to be there—who said ooh, if you could just get out of the way, because you know, we're strong women and they're calling us lesbians [be]cause you're around. We're like, excuse me, we're withstanding the lesbian invading—you better get used to that. As strong women you better get used to saying "and yes, many of us are!" Because otherwise, you'll just back yourself right off a cliff. And I would ask you, do we have an equal rights amendment today? It was not a winning strategy.

We were involved in all these struggles, but not because we said it's gonna be a tit-for-tat: "I'll do this if you'll do that. I'll come to your demo Wednesday if you come to mine Thursday." We did it because we knew it was a fight we had to join and be a part of. And it strengthened all—

The video cuts off there.

End video description

#leslie feinberg

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wealmostaneckbeard · 5 months

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The politics in Lancer the mech pilot TTRPG seems center left to me. A good way to explain what's going on in that game's universe is with this overly long metaphor:

Imagine an alternate history where Nixon somehow beat JFK Jr to the white house, and once in office he lets Kissinger go nuts setting fascists up on an accelerated schedule. That's what Union's Second Committee was like. Then Tricky Dick procedes to nuke Vietnam a couple times. That's the Hercynia Crisis and that FTL Piston weapon launch. JFK and company ride the shock and horror of approaching nuclear war into office on the promise of de-escalation and enforcing civil rights, and they deliver. That's the coup that formed Union's Third Committee. Kissinger, Nixon, and the entire pentagon/raytheon corp take over NASA in Cape Canaveral, Florida where they form a tolerated corporatocracy in exile. That's basically Harrison Armory on the planet Ras Shamra. Now a United liberal-leftist front of America is actively trying to tear down dictatorships around the world that Kissinger set up (he got assassinated at some point in this time line) and replace them with socialist democracies. That is Union's Justice/Human-Rights Department and a few other government branches. So far they've had some success although people are pointing out that it's a bit hypocritical that the liberators are using weapons from corporate conservative states where civil rights are discretely curtailed. That's what's driving political discourse in 5016u in Union's legislative body, the Central Committee and it's myriad political parties.

So yeah Lancer's political intergalactic landscape is a bit like modern day? Except also cthulhu is giving out reality-breaking tech to militant civil rights advocates and random civilians? That's what HORUS basically is, btw.

Now that I've written this out, it would make for a good american alt-history with mechs campaign in Lancer...

#henry kissinger #lancer rpg #alternate history #union's third committee #union's second committee #harrison armory #science fiction #table top role playing #ttrpg #mech #mecha #usa politics #usa history #richard nixon #john f kennedy #us history #us politics #horus

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one-divides-into-two · 2 months

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"If we treat the Stonewall Uprising as initiating the modern gay mass movement in 1969, the left-adventurist line was initially dominant, and fell by the wayside in the late 70s. Those who led the first wave of the LGBT movement of the 60s understood themselves (however incompletely) as participating in a revolutionary movement and process: In broad strokes, the early “left” line groups of gay liberation located the center of gay oppression in the family form itself and were explicitly in solidarity with the women’s movement as in many ways the same as their own (ideologically if not always practically). The British Gay Liberation Front’s Manifesto reads

The oppression of gay people starts in the most basic unit of society, the family...At some point nearly all gay people have found it difficult to cope with having the restricting images of man or woman pushed on them by their parents...we are expected to prove ourselves socially to our parents as members of the right sex (to bring home a boy/girl friend) and to start being a 'real' (oppressive) young man or a 'real' (oppressed) young woman

The Boston Gay Men’s Liberation group argued in their manifesto for the collectivization of childcare and housework, saying

Rearing children should be the common responsibility of the whole community. Any legal rights parents have over ‘their’ children should be dissolved and each child should be free to choose its own destiny. Free twenty-four hour child care centers should be established where faggots and lesbians can share the responsibility of child rearing

Others explicitly aligned themselves with the national liberation and anti-imperialist struggles of the time –Third World Gay Revolution went so far as to explicitly call for armed struggle towards establishing socialism. The gay struggle, to these organizations, was necessarily part of the struggle for the end of capitalism and the liberation of all oppressed and exploited peoples.

Nevertheless, these groups primarily took the left-adventurist line, and the failure of these organizations to place politics in command and take up Marxism fully (despite its influence within the movement), and the failure of the leading Marxist organizations of the time to cast aside their chauvinism, place politics in command, and embrace the LGBT movement (most notably RU/RCP, which maintained that homosexuality was “perpetuated and fostered by the decay of capitalism” and to be eliminated under socialism until 2001 and engaged in conversion therapy-style practices on their gay cadre), allowed the bourgeoisie to co-opt the movement and suppress its revolutionary strains. By the end of the 1970s the main left-adventurist groups that emerged from the movement's popular initiation via the Stonewall Uprising (GLF, STAR, TWGR, etc) had collapsed, and were replaced by the newly dominant right-opportunist trend, represented in groups like Lambda Legal (founded 1971), GLAD (1978), and the Human Rights Campaign (1980). Occasional left-adventurist ruptures emerged over the succeeding years, with ACT UP's break (rooted in part in gay and lesbian anti-imperialist solidarity work in the preceding years) from Gay Men's Health Crisis representing the most significant of these, but over the next three decades the bourgeois "marriage equality" became the central demand of the movement, with the implication that once these various reforms proposed by the right-opportunist trend were enacted, the gay movement would cease to be necessary.

In the first two decades of the 21st century these reforms were realized, and the idealist fantasies of the leading bourgeois gay organizations were not. These reforms were granted because they reaffirmed the bourgeois family form, successfully assimilating the leading upper strata of LGBT people as a method of defusing the movement as a whole. While in some ways the broad social acceptability of homosexuality, transness and gender nonconformity have increased, the reaction to these reforms has produced a vicious effort to oppress the lower strata, typically trans people.

Indeed, all empirical evidence points to the continuing existence of anti-gay and anti-trans oppression. In our younger years, parents, teachers, and other authority figures will attempt to suppress any expression of homosexuality, transness, or gender non-conformity. The passive and active social enforcement of your sex/gender role is a universal experience, but is felt particularly acutely by those most directly in contradiction with those roles. When this fails, authority figures sometimes resort to violence and sexual abuse – gay and trans children suffer higher rates of psychological, physical, and sexual abuse across the board as compared to their cis and straight peers. LGBT people as a whole make 10% less than the average worker. This is felt more acutely among trans people, particularly trans women (in line with their cis counterparts), who make just 60% of the average. What bourgeois sociological evidence does exist points to significant discrimination in housing, jobs, medical care, etc. Accessing medical care is a struggle of its own for trans people – getting the treatment needed for basic day-to-day existence is often humiliating and expensive.

For younger LGBT people, particularly trans people, this political sequence has produced significant "whiplash." We grew up in a period of a real increase in broad social "acceptance," and being told that these reforms would guarantee an end to our oppression. But the utter abdication of leadership by the rightists following the reforms (after all, "we won") and the reactionary backlash has left the movement with a vacuum of political and organizational leadership at a crucial conjuncture. In the absence of this leadership, small groups have begun to emerge, largely taking up the left-adventurist anarchist line, sometimes explicitly. In some ways, this is a positive situation for communists. The broad masses of LGBT people are crying out for leadership in their struggle against the reactionary offensive, and the failure of the bourgeois rightist line to provide its promised victory has revealed to many gay and trans people, particularly those of the lower strata, the bankruptcy of reformism.

The current assault on our self-determination by the reactionary wing of first-world politics presents us with an opportunity to smash that trend, to effect a final rupture. Gay and trans people, particularly trans people, are increasingly forced into direct confrontation with the bourgeois state (through its repressive laws) and its extra-legal shock troops (with trans events becoming one of the primary targets for street fascist attacks). Not since the AIDS crisis have we seen such direct confrontation – and with it, openness to revolutionary communist political projects.

The task before communists in the gay movement is therefore to rectify the line of the movement through theoretical and practical struggle, to offer leadership to the gay and trans masses, and transform this movement into a detachment of the world proletarian struggle for communism."

Half the Sky: Preliminary Materials for a Proletarian Feminist Politics

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matan4il · 6 months

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Daily update post:

They counted over 1,400 dead and over 4,800 wounded, over 200 people who were kidnapped from Israel, among them at least 30 kids and at least 10 people over the age of 60. There are also over 100 people categorized as missing, which means they might have been murdered, or they are held hostage in Gaza.

Tomorrow will be the hostages' third Shabbat in Hamas' hands. In Tel Aviv, a Shabbat table was set for them with all of the empty seats waiting for their return:

The Israeli army continues to fight on three fronts, mainly with Hamas in the south and Hezbollah in the north. Today, a Hezbollah terrorist breached Israel's northern border, made his way to the Israeli town of Margaliot, shot and then wounded one person. The Israeli army is after him, and also looking into the possibility that he wasn't alone when he crossed the border.

As I mentioned in yesterday's update, people continue to tear down the posters with the faces and names of the Israeli hostages in many places around the world. Here's another incident:

Someone please explain to me how does it liberate a single Palestinian to tear down the posters put up by the grieving and worried family members.

Antisemitic attacks in the name of the conflict continue to take place all over the world.

In Israel, the war really does touch everyone. Here are just two of the Knesset (Israeli parliament) members who have been called for reserves duty, Yoaz Hendel and Moshe Solomon:

Those who aren't serving themselves, have a child or grandchild who is, or they know someone who will be fighting. This isn't a war where the uncaring elite is sending the plebes to fight and die for them. This is very much everyone's war, because everyone's experiencing it as a fight for our very existence.

This is Noya Dan, a 12 years old autistic girl (I guess they pointed out she's a Harry Potter fan to explain her outfit in this picture that her family shared).

Up until yesterday, Noya and her grandmother were considered missing, but then their bodies were identified. What you might not expect is that their bodies were found on the Gazan side of the border (the Israeli army has been conducting small raids to retrieve bodies). In other words, Noya and her grandma were probably kidnapped, and after the terrorists decided this autistic girl will be too difficult to handle as a hostage, they murdered the two.

Someone please explain to me how their murder makes the life of any Palestinian better.

More personal stories:

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #antisemitism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish

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workingclasshistory · 9 months

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On this day, 22 July 1946, actor and activist Danny Glover was born. The son of two postal workers who were also activists in the National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People, Glover took part in the longest student strike in US history in 1968. As a student at San Francisco State University, Glover took part in the successful strike of the Black Students Union and Third World Liberation Front demanding the creation of a School of Ethnic Studies. He worked in the Black Panthers free breakfast for children programme and helped them organise their newspaper. He later lived in a commune for a year, fought against the Vietnam war and colonialism in Africa and more recently has supported migrant workers, the occupy movement and Black Lives Matter. In 2004, in an interview with AARP magazine, he explained how he remains optimistic: 'I try to find hope in struggle and resistance in small places as much as I can. The progressive movement against the war of occupation in Iraq is a reason for hope, as is resistance to free trade agreements in Latin America. Those are moments that we have to celebrate: that people still find the resolve and energy to resist.' You can learn more about the Black Panthers in these books by former members: https://shop.workingclasshistory.com/collections/books/black-panthers Pictured: Glover supporting Nissan workers' organising in Mississippi https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=666208148885737&set=a.602588028581083&type=3

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justbeingnamaste · 5 months

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Once able to lay credible claim to the title ‘America’s most beautiful city’, since the pandemic it has degenerated into the poster child of American inner-city degradation, with iconic neighborhoods like the Tenderloin and South of Market swamped by the tented encampments of the homeless and the attendant rampant drug use, shootings, stabbings, ubiquitous street filth and general lawlessness, while city authorities and police have looked the other way.

Suddenly the squalor has gone – at least for now.

Streets and sidewalks were steam-cleaned, public spaces tarted up, police patrols multiplied. Public defecation ceased, needles no longer littered the streets. Legal impediments previously cited as a block to doing any of this mysteriously evaporated, like San Francisco fog when a strong sun comes up.

There is something hugely comical about all this, something distinctly third world for a city – for a country – which is meant to be one of the most sophisticated, prosperous, and high-tech on the globe.

For decades squalid capitals in developing nations carted off the poor and gave their street fronts a fresh lick of paint before visiting US presidents and other world leaders cast their eyes on them. The communist bloc was a dab hand at doing the same before the Berlin Wall came down in 1989. And now San Francisco has joined their ranks.

Comical. But also pathetic.

"NO GROUP IN AMERICAN HISTORY HAS DONE WORSE JOB RUNNING THIS COUNTRY THAN THE NEO-LIBERALS CURRENTLY IN CHARGE. THEY'RE VICIOUS, THEY'RE INTOLERANT, & THEY ARE UTTERLY CORRUPT. BUT, ABOVE ALL, THEY'RE INCOMPETENT."

~ Tucker Carlson

#Business and Economy China Political Manipulation Problem-Reaction-Solution World News #Biden corruption #Chinese President Xi Jinping #Tucker Carlson Quote #David Icke

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sevilemar · 4 months

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I got such an amazing gift from a fellow player in DnD today, I am still glowing with happiness and excitement.

I made the conscious choice at the start of the campaign to play a very young, very naive religious fanatic in a world designed to only contain shades of grey (Shulassakar in Eberron). Suffice it to say, I did not intend for her to live very long.

What I did not know before our first session was that a fellow player decided to play a very liberal, very hedonistic blood cleric Dhampir named Corvin, whose morality is firmly on the darker side of grey. We clashed from the beginning, and I had already attacked him once, but was stopped by other members of the party. I also saw him help and heal others, and we had each other's back in a few fights. For someone like Selise, who was born into an eternal, holy war to keep one of the Overlords from taking over the world, that means a lot.

I was just accepting that maybe, just maybe, 'good' might include other things than I was taught, when we went to the desert to find an old battlefield that became a manifestation zone for war and strife. Because Corvin hadn't fed for several days on the journey, he went into a blood frenzy, killing and feeding on a swarm of blood bugs.

Long story short, after he found himself again, I challenged him and we ended up fighting each other, becoming more and more locked in and angry until it truly was to the death.

As a player, I was hesitant at first. I had never taken such a big swing before, and it felt wrong to attack another player. Thomas and me had talked about it once it was clear our characters may be headed that way, and our GM and the other players had OKed PvP as well, so all was fine on the consent front.

And still I needed the dice to make the final decision, and I was quite shocked when they decided it was time to fight. But now I was commited, and so I went for it with a heavy heart. I love my Selise, and I really did not want to kill another player's character. It was a long fight with lots of dice rolls for me, since the third PC tried to stop us. Well, mostly me.

Halfway through, Corvin asked Selise if he will ever be safe in her presence, and I had to actually think about it. I talked myself through it out loud, and came to the shocking conclusion that no, he would not be. And after that, when we both knew this was to the end, I lost my doubts, and it became so much fun. I still did not want to kill Corvin, but I was OK if Selise died, and I knew it was OK if Corvin did.

In the end, Corvin had one hit point left, Selise had 4, and it was the third player's turn. She decided to use up all her inspiration to get the two NPCs around us to grapple me. I got out of her grasp, I got out of one of the Elf's grasp, but the third one pinned me down in a pool of blood. And then it was Corvin's turn. He casts Toll the Dead, my dice rolls, and it is only a 10. Selise is dead.

And then this motherfucking blood cleric, this awesome player and very kind friend, uses all his inspiration to cast a ritual and make me into a Dhampir like himself.

Fuck me, I did not see that coming.

It is such a beautiful, beautiful gift to a fellow player, a way to take the big swing, see it through to the end, and still keep a beloved character, and give her such an interesting new twist.

And Thomas told me after the game that it was his plan all along if we ever got here, and our GM knew about it, too. That means he thought about this, thought about a way to both let me be true to Selise, and let me keep her as well, and it is such a kind and generous thing to do that I'm still crying about it now.

And now it is my choice where we go from here. There are so many cool possibilities, because as Shulassakar, Selise is basically a mix between Aasimar and Yuan-Ti, descended from the Couatl: god-like beings with wings and a snake's body, and what does that mean for her now?

But that is a thought for another day. Today, I will go to sleep with a stupid smile on my face, firm in my conviction that telling stories together is good for the soul. Good night, gentlefolk, or god day, and may the story gods look upon you favorably always!

#dnd #dungeons & dragons #dungeons and dragons #d&d #kindness of strangers #who became friends

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zvaigzdelasas · 3 months

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[Machine Translation]

The FLNC castigates autonomy and continues its fight against “settler colonization”

During a clandestine press conference, the National Liberation Front of Corsica - which brings together the groups "Union of Combatants" and "October 22" - addressed several themes through the reading of a press release, signed with the slogans of the two entities.

On the first of the three pages, the FLNC denounces “ so-called settlement colonization” . “ It is the most pernicious and always a strategic choice of the colonizer,” it is written. “The position of Corsica under French supervision is a formidable hypocrisy.”

For the shrouded figures, " the current political situation of Corsica in the bosom of France leads to the same results as all the settlements in the world".

The FLNC describes the figures as " edifying" concerning the demographic evolution of the island: " between 2015 and 2021, Corsica will experience an increase in the population of 20,310 residents. For the most part French", say the shrouded figures.[...]

The text also alludes to Emmanuel Macron's speech last September to the Corsican Assembly. The Head of State had announced his desire to include Corsica in the Constitution, opening the way " to autonomy in the Republic" . He did not then mention the notion of the Corsican people, evoking " an insular, linguistic, historical and cultural community" .[...]

In its press release, the FLNC also placed a large part of its argument in the international context, particularly in relation to the situation in Gaza.

“We support the Palestinian cause. Since our creation and still today,” affirms the clandestine organization which thus recalls some of its fundamentals. Ditto when she insists three times that she has “ no common destiny with France” . Or when she denounces the “ colonizer complex” .[...]

On the third and last page, the clandestine group “recalls the 45 actions of last October” . The organization is probably referring to the blue night of October 8 to 9 when simultaneous attacks were carried out on the island , mainly targeting second homes.

This series - on a scale not seen since December 2012 - was claimed by the FLNC the next day. However, the underground movement had until now not given the total number of these actions, only listed by sector in the press release.

26 Jan 24

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prolekult · 7 months

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Yesterday marked the death of Sylvia Pankhurst - one of the finest revolutionary communists to have ever graced Britain's shores. We have rarely seen such fighters on this earth.

Sylvia was the most tortured suffragette, targetted for her insistence on including working class women within the demands of women's suffrage (much to the disdain of her mother and sister). She did not balk against repeated forced feeding, hunger striking and sleep striking.

She was one of a handful of communists in Britain who opposed the first world war. Her criticism of the war was ceaseless. Practically isolated, she organised relief for working class people in London with cost-price restaurants, free child care for mothers, and more.

She broke with the Labour Party over this, and never returned despite the enormous pressure put upon her by the British labour movement and, later, the Third Internationale. Her arguments with Lenin remain a key debate in communist and British politics.

Pankhurst stood resolutely with the Bolshevik revolution at its outbreak, and was pivotal in organising the "Hands Off Russia" campaign in Britain - which culminated in dock workers across the country refusing to load any munitions to ships.

Pankhurst was an outspoken opponent of racism. Her newspaper - then the Worker's Dreadnought - was the first newspaper in Britain to hire black journalists. When articles written by the Jamaican journalist, Claude McKay, were viewed as seditious, she went to jail for him.

Her support for Irish independence never wavered. She supported Larkin, the Irish Transport and General Workers' Union and United Builders' Labourers Union during the Dublin lock-outs. She stood by the Irish Citizen Army during the Easter Rising.

She was one of the first in Britain to recognise the dangers of fascism, her warnings and agitation beginning as early as 1920. Through this struggle, she became deeply involved in Ethiopian national liberation, where she spent the last years of her life.

All of this is just the tip of the iceberg of the contributions Sylvia made in her life. She did all of this at great cost to herself, enduring her mother and sister denouncing her in the press repeatedly, endless slander, rejection by the mainstream communist movement and worse.

Sylvia also belongs to the great pantheon of disabled revolutionaries, being diagnosed with endometriosis whilst in prison. This, along with the damage done to her organs by forced feeding, left her with often crippling stomach problems.

"I am going to fight capitalism even if it kills me. It is wrong that people like you should be comfortable and well fed while all around you people are starving." She fought until she died, but capitalism didn't kill her. At aged 78, Sylvia passed on.

She was given a state funeral in Ethiopia, and remains the only foreigner buried in the front of Holy Trinity Cathedral. An Ethiopian migrant, cited anonymously in Rachel Holmes' biography of Pankhurst, summed up what she meant to him thus:

"After God, Sylvia Pankhurst".

To learn more about Sylvia, we highly recommend Rachel Holmes' biography, "Sylvia Pankhurst: Natural Born Rebel".

#sylvia pankhurst #communism #politics #marxism #philosophy #communist #anti imperialism #history #leftism #world history #working class #feminism #womens rights #smash the patriarchy #suffragette #suffragists #women's suffrage

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allthebrazilianpolitics · 9 months

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Is Lula Anti-American? It's complicated.

It’s the question in Washington that won’t go away: “Is Lula anti-American?” Since returning to Brazil’s presidency on January 1, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva has repeatedly caused alarm in the U.S. capital and elsewhere with his comments on Ukraine, Venezuela, the dollar and other key issues. An unconfirmed GloboNews report in June said President Joe Biden may have abandoned any intentions of visiting Brasilia before the end of the year because of frustration with Lula’s positions.   

The question causes many to roll their eyes, and with good reason. Three decades after the end of the Cold War, some in the United States continue to see Latin America in “You’re either with us or against us” terms. Washington has a long record of getting upset with Brazil’s independent stances on everything from generic AIDS drugs in the 1990s to trade negotiations in the 2000s and the Edward Snowden affair in the 2010s. A large Latin American country confidently operating in its own national interest, neither allied with nor totally against the United States, simply does not compute for some in Washington, and maybe it never will.  

That said, there is a long list of reasonable people in places like the White House and State Department, in think tanks and in the business world who are perfectly capable of understanding nuance — and have still perceived a threat from Lula’s foreign policy in this, his third term. The list of perceived transgressions is long and growing: Lula has repeatedly echoed Russian positions on Ukraine, saying both countries share equal responsibility for the war. In April, Lula said blame for continued hostilities laid “above all” with countries who are providing arms—a slap at the United States and Europe, delivered while on a trip to China, no less. Lula has worked to revive the defunct UNASUR bloc, whose explicit purpose was to counter U.S. influence in South America. He has repeatedly urged countries to shun the U.S. dollar as a mechanism for trade when possible, voicing support for new alternatives including a common currency with Argentina or its other neighbors. Lula has been bitterly critical of U.S. sanctions against Venezuela–”worse than a war,” he has said—while downplaying the repression, torture and other human rights abuses committed by the dictatorship itself.   

For some observers, the inescapable conclusion is that Lula’s foreign policy is not neutral or “non-aligned,” but overtly friendly to Russia and China and hostile to the United States. This has been a particular letdown for many in the Democratic Party who briefly saw Lula as a hero of democracy and natural ally after he, too, defeated an authoritarian, election-denying menace on the far right. And for the record, it’s not just Americans who feel this way: the left-leaning French newspaper Liberation, in a front-page editorial prior to Lula’s visit to Paris in June, called him a “faux friend” of the West. 

To paraphrase the old saying, it’s impossible to know what truly lurks in the hearts of men. But as someone who has tried to understand Lula for the past 20 years, with admittedly mixed results, let me give my best evaluation of what’s really happening: Lula may not be anti-U.S. in the traditional sense, but he is definitely anti-U.S. hegemony, and he is more willing than before to do something about it. 

That is, Lula and his foreign policy team do not wish ill on Washington in the way that Nicolás Maduro or Vladimir Putin do, and in fact they see the United States as a critical partner on issues like climate change, energy and infrastructure investment. But they also believe the U.S.-led global order of the last 30 years has on balance not been good for Brazil or, indeed, the planet as a whole. They are convinced the world is headed toward a new, more equitable “multipolar” era in which, instead of one country at the head of the table, there will be, say, eight countries seated at a round table—and Brazil will be one of them, along with China, India and others from the ascendant Global South. Meanwhile, Lula has lost some of the inhibitions and brakes that held him back a bit during his 2003-10 presidency, and he is actively out there trying to usher the world along to this promising new phase—with an evident enthusiasm and militancy that bothers many in the West, and understandably so.

#brazil #politics #brazilian politics #foreign policy #mod nise da silveira #image description in alt

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armed-with-a-waffle-iron · 4 months

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You do realize that river to the sea is about ethnic cleansing right? Maybe not a good thing to be standing by. Can't rightfully claim a genocide if the people purporting are trying to stop the people who have explicitly said they want every one of them dead world wide

🇵🇸From the River to the Sea! Palestine will be FREE!🇵🇸

Some genocide sympathiser needs a history lesson. I'm mostly a comic blogger.....but I'm also a history student so here it is.

The phrase "From the river to the sea" was born as a Zionist phrase indicating where the supposed "Israeli state" was to be, which we can also see echoed in Israeli political statements welcoming the colonisation of Palestinian land, such as that of the Likud Party in 1977: “between the Sea and the Jordan there will only be Israeli sovereignty”. (Kelley, 2019)

In the middle of the 1960s, the Palestinian Liberation Organisation (PLO) took the phrase back in a call for de-colonisation; the 1964 and 1968 charters of the Palestine National Council (PNC) demanded “the recovery of the usurped homeland in its entirety” and the recovery of rights to the indegenous population, including right to self-determination. This has ZERO to do with antisemitism; the PNC did not want to remove Jews from a Palestinian nation, just the settler-colonists. The 1964 Charter states that "Jews who are of Palestinian origin shall be considered Palestinians if they are willing to live peacefully and loyally in Palestine” and the rhetoric would become more inclusive following the 1967 war, when the PLO merged with Arab National Movement and the Palestine Liberation Front to form the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP); which espoused Third World-oriented nationalism and Marxist-Leninism. The PFLP call for a single, secular, democratic, and possibly socialist Palestinian state in which all peoples enjoy citizenship, embracing ALL Jews as citizens. “If we are fighting a Jewish state of a racial kind, which had driven the Arabs out of their lands, it is not so as to replace it with an Arab state which would in turn drive out the Jews. . . . We are ready to look at anything with all our negotiating partners once our right to live in our homeland is recognized,” said one Fatah leader. “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free” was therefore a call for a single, democratic, secular state to replace the genocide committing ethno-religious state of so-called "Israel". (Kelley, 2019)

Kelley, R.D. (2019) ‘From the river to the sea to every mountain top: Solidarity as Worldmaking’, Journal of Palestine Studies, 48(4), pp. 69–91. doi:10.1525/jps.2019.48.4.69.

So, NOT antisemitic. The media, right wing and "Western" states's fear mongering and criminalisation of the phrase is an attempt to stifle anti-imperialist, anti-colonial voices, and somehow justify so-called "Israel"'s slaughter, cleansing and oppression of Palestinians by dehumanising them.

Next off, if you're so concerned about antisemitism, oppression and the safety of Jewish people, I think you're better off organising in person with anti-fascists around you who oppose literal white supremacists and nazis whenever they pull a hateful stunt instead of playing victim online to people showing solidarity for Palestine.

Moreover. So-called "Israel" is committing a genocide. This state is built on the back of mass ethnic cleansing of Palestinians from their homelands and the state never stopped. Zionism is by definition a fascist project that seeks to create an ethnostate on stolen land through the oppression and genocide of its indigenous population; the Palestinian people. It's an imperialist and settler colonial project that is backed by fellow settler colonial states such as the US and former colonial powers such as the UK. There is nothing that can justify settler colonialism, apartheid and ethnic cleansing. NOTHING. Not by the British Empire, not by Apartheid South Africa, not by Nazi Germany, and not by so-called "Israel" and its imperialist allies.

The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine 1948 by Ilan Pappe

No Muslim, Jew, Christian or Agnostic on that land is free until they're allowed to live as equals under a single, secular nation, and the Palestinians people are allowed to return to their homeland. No one in the world is free until we are ALL free!

Anon, where do you stand when, as of now, around 19,000 Palestinians have been murdered since Oct 7 by the so-called "Israeli" regime, backed by some of the most powerful nations in the world? When the Palestinian people have suffered 75 years of forced displacement, and state-back massacre, terror and discrimination. What the fuck did children in Gaza do to deserve being born into this hell on Earth? I'd hope you choose to stand on the right side of history but frankly it doesn't matter; in our thousands and in our millions, in our millions and in our billions— all of us who march and chant and organise and act and stand in solidarity with the oppressed— we are ALL Palestinians and we will see a free Palestine in our fucking lifetime.

Free the people, free the land! Justice is our demand!

Free the people, free them all! Occupation has to fall!

Free the people, free the land! No peace on stolen land!

Free the people, free them all! Break the chains and let them fall!

Free, free Palestine! Stop- the genocide! End- apartheid! De-DECOLONISE!

🇵🇸From the Sea to the River! Palestine will live forever!🇵🇸

#back up! back up! we want freedom! freedom! all these zionist colonisers we don't need 'em need 'em!#back up! back up! we want freedom! freedom! all these genocide deniers we don't need 'em need 'em!#from the river to the sea #palestine will be free #free palestine #🇵🇸

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spiderfreedom · 4 months

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About this post, out of curiosity, when do you think it all started? Is there research on like how far back it goes? It obviously isn't inherent to human nature; I know it's not. Is it just one of those toxic things that started from the beginning of organized religion :( ?

There's research, but there's a lot of controversy on when/how patriarchy developed. The most important thing to note is that Greek/Roman/Chinese/Japanese style misogyny is not universal and has not always been the norm. Societies differed a lot in how much power and autonomy women had. At the same time, we must be conscious even the 'best' societies of the past still had faults surrounding women.

Some places to start are:

Alice Evans: Ten Thousand Years of Patriarchy: This article looks at it from an economic and cultural perspective. I strongly recommend reading her Substack, where she travels around the world interviewing Third World Women and Feminists to see why their women's liberation movements have succeeded or failed! From the linked article:

Our world is marked by the Great Gender Divergence. Objective data on employment, governance, laws, and violence shows that all societies are gender unequal, some more than others. In South Asia, North Africa and the Middle East, it is men who provide for their families and organise politically. Chinese women work but are still locked out of politics. Latin America has undergone radical transformation, staging massive rallies against male violence and nearly achieving gender parity in political representation. Scandinavia still comes closest to a feminist utopia, but for most of history Europe was far more patriarchal than matrilineal South East Asia and Southern Africa. [...] Why do some societies have a stronger preference for female cloistering? To answer that question, we must go back ten thousand years. Over the longue durée, there have been three major waves of patriarchy: the Neolithic Revolution, conquests, and Islam. These ancient ‘waves’ helped determine how gender relations in each region of the world would be transformed by the onset of modern economic growth.

Another thing to remember/consider when it comes to studying the past is how few resources we have. We only know so much about how pre-historical humans organized their societies. Colonialism destroyed evidence of other societies with different ways of approaching gender. Many of the great apes we study are endangered. And literate societies happened to be patriarchal societies (likely related to literacy going hand in hand with bureaucracy and agriculture and the development of a state?) so we don't know as much as we could about women in literate regions.

Organized religion definitely codified a lot about patriarchy, but the major religions (Christianity, Islam, Buddhism) arose in regions of the world that were already patriarchal. So it's kind of a chicken and the egg problem when it comes to patriarchy and religion. We know that religions that worshipped goddesses, like Greek and Roman paganism and Hinduism, can still coexist with sexist societies.

These aren't great answers, but it's a big question and there are a lot of people working on answering it! It ties back into the bigger question of what our human ancestors were like, and whether we're kind of doomed to violence and xenophobia or whether there are alternatives. Some other books I've read that may be useful reading on this front are:

The Dawn of Everything. A long book, but it's a tour of human history and different societies and ways of organizing society. One of the chapters is on women, if I recall correctly.

Women's Work: The First 20,000 Years: Women, Cloth, and Society in Early Times. Women have been working with cloth for a very long time. In some societies, this allowed women a high degree of status (see the Minoans!) and in others, women were worked to the bone producing textiles (Ancient Egypt).

The book "Demonic Males" looks at the birth of patriarchy from a primatology perspective. Our ape ancestors show male-dominant behaviors and societies. It's controversial the extent this is directly responsible for misogyny and male violence, but I think it's likely that our ape inheritance influenced the structure of early humans - so we basically have a lot of baggage.

Broadly speaking, reading books on feminist anthropology will help you, because a lot of what we know about patriarchy is based on highly literate societies, which as we established, are also agricultural societies with bureaucracies and a hierarchical culture. That's hardly representative of the human condition. As an example, look at Inuit society - on the one hand, there is arranged marriage and all that it implies; on the other, we do not have the same ideals of silent women who stay at home - women are valued members of the society and their skills are explicitly recognized as necessary for survival. Compare Western cultures that view domestic tasks as "support" tasks while the "real" work is done by men.

Finally, this one is a bit old (1974), but it may give you a starting point for understanding feminist anthropology and the search for the origins of patriarchy: "Is Female to Nature as Male is to Culture". It can help us understand how female subordination manifests itself in different cultures, and to know what to look for.

I hope this has been helpful. If anyone can recommend good books on the origin of patriarchy/female subordination (especially for non-Western cultures), please feel free to add in the replies or reblogs!

#asks

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rom-e-o · 7 months

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Among the Leaves (NSFW)(Constance/Ebenezer fic)

Fall is here. A themed drabble is in order.

Ebenezer takes his first ever 'holiday' off of work and goes to the English countryside with Constance. Without the prying eyes of coworkers and family, the two use the opportunity to catch up on quality time.

This is an explicit, 18+ story. Minors, I ask that you DO NOT INTERACT.

The story is under the cut. Enjoy!

The sweltering London heat finally boiled over in early September. By the third week of the month, the leaves were golden and the air held a telltale crispness.

Gentle zephyrs that smelled of cinnamon and apples funneled down the country roads, each one gentle enough to send petticoats and top hats for those who weren’t cautious.

Constance adored windy weather. It allowed her unbound hair to whip about and blow freely, a sensation she found liberating and cleansing. Her dress, low-cut and made of spearmint linen, danced around her legs with every step, adding to the delight. Ebenezer, dressed in breeches and a simple white shirt, walked alongside her with a chipper gait. In the rolling hills outside the city limits, they were anonymous. Not a banker and socialite – not a scandal for retired folk to gossip about over tea. They were just another couple, stealing embraces and lingering glances, amidst the red and ember-colored trees.

“It’s gorgeous out here,” Constance said, looking around the golden fields that seemed to stretch in every direction.

“Yes, it’s a different world from the city,” Ebenezer agreed. He looked more handsome than usual, she thought, with his hair slightly windblown and his face lit with golden light. He had an almost boyish glow that she hadn’t seen around him yet, thanks to the city’s low ceilings and reliance on gas lamps.

As if reading her mind, he closed he eyes and basked in the autumnal calm. Tipping his head back, he inhaled slowly. “Serene. Quiet.”

Her cloak danced upon her heels with every spritely step, the tassels heavy enough to crunch the deadened leaves that her heels boots missed.

“It reminds me of home.” Her voice was almost ghostly, as if she was uneager to disturb the quiet that enveloped them.

“New York?”

“Yes,” she said,” Oh, don’t get me wrong, London is beautiful in the winter. But…New York in fall. Tarrytown. Hudson Valley. It’s something transcendental.”

“I believe you,” he said, taking moving his hand from her elbow to twine their fingers. “Washington Irving waxes beautiful stories of the area."

“Oh! You’ve read Irving?”

“I hadn’t before I met you,” he confided somewhat shyly, “But once we started courting, I wanted to know everyone I could about where you came from.”

The woman found herself grinning in pure excitement at the romantic confession. He’d kept that venture a secret from her.

He continued, albeit somewhat bashfully, “I found his works in a local bookshop. They are…quite popular this time of year, and it makes sense – the Dutch settlements. Fields of fragrant grain. The orchards. Throwing cinnamon chips atop crackling tavern fires. Lovers walking together on foggy nights amidst the gravestones. It’s all very autumnal and American …delightfully so.”

She flushed and nodded. “Yes. That last one is particularly dangerous, I must say.”

The two were a mere half-mile away from their temporary abode for the coming weekend. It was a small cabin with a hitching post for the horse and a small well out front. It was a comfortable lodge, and in the British countryside, finding their way back would not be difficult. Nonetheless, being out too late would be unwise, and both knew it.

“I can see why,” he agreed. “The stories and legends of the American wilderness are exciting enough for me, thank you very much. I’ll leave its true secrets to those knowledgeable enough to keep them. The prospect of getting spirited away by some ghostly Hessian soldier is, frankly, not an experience I’d like to entertain with you, dear. No offense.”

“Erudite and logical,” Constance teased. “None taken. I have no intention of getting spirited away on this very lovely afternoon. I quite like your company.”

He chuckled. “A very agreeable statement, my dear.”

Pausing momentarily, he snuck a quick look over his shoulder to peek at the road behind them. He squinted his icy eyes, as if trying to peer into the distance as much as possible. The moment Constance observed this behavior and tried to follow his gaze, he turned back her with a smirk. With the gentlest of shoves, he nudged her against an oak tree off the path until her back was flush with the bark.

There, he kissed her hard, tipping her head back so their mouths could meet fully. She reciprocated eagerly, hands roaming up his band, fingertips pressing into his back and through the flimsy material of his shirt.

She tugged the fabric tucked into his breeches free so she could slip her hands beneath the material and caress the skin of his bare back. Flanks of long, lean muscle met her eager fingertips. His towering, 6-foot-4 frame was impressive and weighty against her, but not in an unpleasantly smothering way.

As she did that, Ebenezer rolled his hips against hers, earning a thankful moan in return. He reached down to lift one of her shapely legs and wrap it around his waist. After it was secured, his hand skimmed up her skirts and past the edge of her stocking, exploring the tops of her thighs. Her skin quickly warmed under his skilled touch.

“Ebenezer…” she husked, eyes glassy as their kiss became more physical. Their bodies swayed and rutted together until even the flimsy barrier of their thin clothes was too much to bear.

He pulled back long enough to ask a breathless question, resting his forehead against hers. “D-Do you want to…”

Connie nodded eagerly, the heat in her lower belly too persistent to ignore. “We can use my cloak.”

Their hands tangled and they darted into the woods like excited teenagers. It took a few moments to find a clearing that was concealed by trees but was even enough for them to sprawl upon.

Ebenezer carefully unlaced the cloak from her freckled shoulders before laying it on the ground, smoothing it like one might do with a blanket before a picnic. Once he was satisfied, he turned around to see the pleasant sight of Constance already unfastening her dress.

When the fabric pooled around her ankles, she took great pleasure in drinking in the amorous expression on his face. The glow from before was this present, softening his features even further. With deliberate slowness, she slipped her hands over her ample breasts and down her corset, nails pulling and tugging the laces until she could remove it, her smalls and her stockings in one motion. The entire time, he never broke her gaze away from his.

When she rose again, Ebenezer’s gaze smoldered like twin diamonds.

“My gods,” he breathed, standing slowly and moving to her. He took her bare hips in his rough hands and pulled her close. “Look at you.”

She shuffled under his gaze, hands drifting behind her back.

“What about me?” she asked sweetly, tilting her head so her copper pooled over one shoulder.

“Bathed in this golden light…you’re like a sun goddess,” he breathed, his breath unsteady as his grip upon her tightened. “My goddess.”

The possessive lilt to his voice made her swoon, and she was suddenly very thankful for his arms being there to hold her.

“Well, Mr. Scrooge, don’t keep a goddess waiting,” she tried to tease, but her voice vacillated too much to sound as coquettish as she desired. They’d done this routine of teasing and flirting many times, yet her blood pounded with excitement as if it was their first time.

Judging by her lover’s matching smirk, he felt similar. “Mm. Eager, are we?”

“Well, it’s not very gentlemanly to leave me standing alone and nude without company,” she reasoned, crossing her hands over her breasts for playful emphasis.

This made his chest rumble, laughter as warm as summer thunder thumbling forth.

“You have a very unique idea of what a gentleman should do,” he said.

Despite his vague reply, he didn’t hesitate un unlacing the remainder of his shirt and tossing it aside. The action tousled his hair further, and as he pushed the silver-straked coif off his face, she was struck yet again by how damnably handsome he was. With his lean muscle from years of survival to his broad chest, covered in a spelt of salt-and-pepper hair, he was nothing short of a human Adonis. Then there was his face ... maker, his face. A strong Roman nose and sculpted cheekbones that could cut diamonds, nothing was as incredible to her was his icy-blue eyes. They glittered like mica in instances like this, when he stared at her as if she was the most precious being to him in the world.

It was her turn to ogle him as he unlaced his breeches and kicked them off him his socks and shoes.

He was all long-legged, toned glory. A trail of dark hair ran from his chest and down his belly, all the way to the reddened erection between his legs. His cock was already half-mast, heavy with arousal against his thigh, a clear pearl of liquid appearing at the top. She wetted her lips at the sight, suddenly desperate to take him into her mouth.

However, this occasion wasn’t the time for the lengthy foreplay that both could stretch on for hours. They had to be fast, less they be discovered by some unsuspecting travelers or merchants off the road. That scandal would follow them back to London easily.

With urgency that bordered on primal, Ebenezer closed the distance between them and wrapped two strong arms around her. She followed his lead, feeling him dip her into a kiss that forced her to cling onto him to prevent her from toppling over. The effect made their bellies and chests rub together. Her breasts, already heavy with desire, practically burned as his chair hair scrubbed her nipples.

Ebenezer lowered them both onto the cloak, with Constance laying supine beneath him.

They continued to kiss, moaning ang gasping as their hands roamed each other’s bodies. Relief flooded her when his hands finally lifted to her breasts and gave them a squeeze, helping to ebb some of the tension she’d felt buzzing in her nerves.

Arching her back into his hands, she was rewarded for her keening with the swipe of his deft tongue across the sensitive tips. She cried out from the pleasant combination of warmth and wetness. Her legs opened without a thought, already seeking his familiar girth to fill her and bring her to the edge of ecstasy.

After savoring the womanly musk of her breasts, he kissed a path down her stomach, hands moving down to cup her ass. With a hand on each cheek, he began to massage the flesh in circles, easing her body open further and further.

“E-Ebenezer, please, just…”

“Not yet,” he replied, kissing her belly button. Gods, she could feel his breath against her quim, already hot and eager and dripping for him.

She bit back a moan of frustration, for she knew that the delay of pleasure was all for a good reason.

Ebenezer was many things, but among the long list, he wasn’t a selfish lover. When it came to making sure his woman was satisfied, he wanted to know when he finally slid into her that she was wet and ready for him. Friction would be smooth, and his approach would be slow until he found that perfect spot inside her that milked the prettiest trembles and screams. Then, and only then, would he ferociously pick up the pace and drive into her, making sure to tilt his hips at the angle that kept her screaming for more.

Even when they’d first laid together, knowing she wasn’t a virgin, he’d treated her as such. He carried her to bed, taken her clothes off, kissed her slowly, savored the taste of her clit against his tongue … all of it to make sure that she was trembling and aching for him by the time they could finally come together in a moment of glory.

“I’m ready,” Constance said, hips lifting off the cloak and swaying. “Oh, please…love, please…”

Ebenezer was weak to her pleading, especially when she called him pet names.

“F—uck, do you have any idea how you look when we're together like this?” he whispered, moving his lips back up her sternum so he could whisper in her ear. “Once we get back to the cabin, I’m throwing you on that bed and making love to you until you can’t walk.”

She moaned loudly, her entire head tipping back at the sound of his promise. “Oh, please…yes!”

“Another beautiful sound,” he said, lips caressing her forehead as he placed a kiss right between her brows. ‘You, begging for me. It’s so hard to not give you what you want…”

“Please, Ebenezer!” she practically wept. Lifting a leg, she shakily wrapped it around his waist to bring his hips down. Feeling his tip right of her entrance, pressing inside slightly, made both release a collective sigh of yearning.

“A-Are you certain?” he stuttered.

She nodded. “Yes.”

With a roll of the hips, he slid inside, and … it was perfection. His cock filled her so perfectly. He wasn’t too big or too small. He knew when to speed up his pace, and when to slow down and keep her teetering on the edge. Best of all, he knew her body and knew what made her scream.

When he bucked his hips and arced right into the spongy G-spot on the roof of her sheath, her entire body went as taut as if she’d been seared by electrocution.

“Y-Yes, right there!” she begged. Her other leg shot up to cradle his body, his narrow hips fitting perfectly between her trembling thighs.

Platitudes fell from her lips as he continued his steady rhythm. With one hand supporting her lower back so he didn’t drive her too hard into the ground, he rutted into her with the same desire he felt the first time they’d slept together.

The entire time, he whispered comments into her ear: about her beauty, about how good she felt, about how lucky he was to share these moments with her. For a man who fancied numbers more than words, he was an incredible poet.

When she finally came crashed down from her high a minute later, her spine kinked and she dug her nails into his skin. He growled in pleasure, a smirk never leaving his visage as he watched her beautiful features spasm in bliss.

“There we go,” he commended, hands combing through her coppery strands. “That’s a good girl. Just like that.”

Tears in her eyes from the power of her orgasm, she let out one last cry as she felt her body close around his cock like a hot fist.

As he went to pull out and finish outside of her, she kept her legs locked around his waist, keeping him in place.

“S-Stay inside…” she begged, hands flying to squeeze his shoulders. “Finish in me.”

His eyes softened instantly, then glazed with the telltale signs of happiness. “M-My Constance, a-are you…are you sure?”

Again, she nodded. “I’ve never been more certain.”

This certainly of her love for him and confidence in him as a potential father to her children…it was too much. His brow furrowed as a surge of pleasure shot through him, and he shifted his angle to thrust back inside her.

Constance let Ebenezer move her body as needed to find the perfect angle that would apply to best pressure to his cock. Once he found it, she saw his eyes practically roll back.

“I-I love you…” he stuttered, already breathless after just two thrusts. On the third, he laughed and practically collapsed. “Connie, I love you so, so much.”

She nodded, her heart swelling with each beautiful declaration. “I love you, Ebenezer…my Ebenezer…”

The last of his restraint snapped, and with a growl, he shuddered and filled her with a hefty load of his seed. He frantically pumped his cock as deep as he could, filling her until droplets seeped onto the cloak below, before he let out an exhausted sigh.

He slumped beside her, a sheen of sweat covering his chest and forehead. Wiping the moisture away, he rallied himself for only a moment before he rolled atop her and kissed her again.

“You’re my radiance, my map to grace…” he said, rambling breathlessly. “I-I…could not be without you. I’m sure of that.”

It was a somber declaration, and it made her ribs go soft.

“I can’t be without you, either,” she said. “I’ll make sure we’re never apart. I never want to be taken from you.”

“I would perish before allowing that,” he whispered. Again, he reached down and twined their fingers.

Constance smiled and rolled into his embrace. She wrapped the cloak around them as a partial blanket for the moment.

“Well, perhaps we should hurry back then,” she teased. “We don’t want the ghosts to come out, right?”

He flattened his chest so she could use it as a pillow, which she greatly appreciated. As she nestled herself into place with a smile, he rolled his eyes.

“If there were any specters lurking in the trees, I’m quite certain we scared them off,” he said. Then, a beat later, he added, “Or … I hope.”

Constance giggled. “I hear no rattling chains.”

“Don't tease.”

She giggled and glanced up at him.

“I won’t let the ghosts take you away,” she promised. “After all …”

A hand drifted to her belly.

“Who knows what the future has in store?”

The two decided to stay in each other’s arms as they drank in the sunset in each other’s arms. With each passing minute, Scrooge dropped another tender kiss upon her, never wanting to let her go.

Thankfully, as long as the world around them stayed as calm and tranquil as this…he would never have to.

Tag list: @quill-pen @crimson-phantom-designs

#scrooge 2022 #scrooge a christmas carol #scrooge netflix #scrooge x oc #oc constance dogoode

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