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#oh yeah this country has a lot of politics but most of your politicians will revere hitler

gemsofgreece · 1 year

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to be fair, i feel like vandalism to replicas, on a uni campus, is the least harmful way to be doing this kind of protest.

i'm definitely not agreeing with people who destroy ancient artifacts or art but i get why it's important to show resistance when there's a lot of alt right dickheads who use ancient greece as their "example" with the whole reject modernity embrace tradition stuff

Resistance to what, my friend? Statues? Culture? Aesthetics? Do you think anything is solved like this? I personally remember vandalism since the 90s and hmmm let me check… oh yeah, nothing has been achieved since then!

You think alt right dickheads are going to care for some scribbles on replicas? Like @margaretartstuff pointed out, it will be people from the working class that will go through the pains of scrubbing these things off. It will be young innocent students who will feel like shit for studying there in this ghetto-like place. It will be foreign students from Erasmus that will mock their colleagues and their studying conditions.

You know who remains unharmed by this? The rich, the politicians, the system, the alt right dickheads. How and why on earth would they be affected by this? They aren’t. The alt rights might be mildly annoyed at best. On the contrary, they might use it on their advantage as an argument that anarchists are barbarians or cultureless.

Honestly it’s a lose / lose situation. And all such situations are plain stupid. Don’t be gullible and fall for anyone who pretends to have an ideology. Anyone can say they ascribe to an ideology. This does not mean they understand it. Hate to say this, but most of these people simply haven’t yet moved past teenage rebellion.

Getting respectfully active in politics, changing your voting strategy, produce novel or thought provoking art, volunteering, rioting peacefully or without ruining the properties and rights of everyday innocent and often poor people are far more legit, mature and effective ways to slowly change the problematic situations.

There is no productivity in the action above. If something actually changed in these ways, I would probably too lean a bit more in their favour. But it’s really a brainless action with zero positive consequences.

As for the whole “alt rights reject modernity for tradition and that’s why anarchists deface statues”… hmm look

Ancient Greek statues and culture in general often do NOT reflect tradition in the way alt rights idolise it in their mind.

Decorating a public foundation according to the country’s history or culture is not an alt right choice… it’s simply the reasonable or standard choice.

Defacing works of art and vandalism are literally the exact opposites of modernity

Να λέμε τα σύκα σύκα και τη σκάφη σκάφη.

#greece #opinion #anon #mail #vandalism

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volixia669 · 1 year

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Standing Strong in Current Political Climate

Alright, I mostly try to keep this to silly fandom and tumblr stuff, but with everything going on politically, it’s time for a serious post. About reality, about politics, and about how we survive. This is going to be about transphobia, queerphobia, and genocide, so I’m giving fair warning.

Buckle up.

Now, this is going to primarily US-Centric, as that’s what I’m familiar with, but make no mistake. There has been an authoritarian rise worldwide.

The UK has been Tory central for the past decade.

Australia has been putting climate refugees into concentration camps.

Israel has been using the pandemic to increase efforts to wipe out Palestinians.

Italy’s Prime Minister is Mussolini’s granddaughter (she’s proud of that btw) and is increasing queerphobia.

Russia is trying to recreate the USSR only with no fake pretenses of Communism (it was authoritarianism) this time around.

And the United States? Well the Republicans have been playing the long game since Reagan, and most of the Democratic party is perfectly fine with fascism since it makes them richer.

All this while the Earth becomes unlivable, people starve, and more. Oh, and covid never went away.

So.

The situation is...bad. Let’s just say it’s bad. There also seems to be a target on queer folks moreso than Jewish folks this time around, most likely since the Holocaust made most people a little twitchy about targeting Jewish folks, though that’s not to say those in charge aren’t perfectly fine with killing Jews.

Anyone who doesn’t conform to a mold is at risk.

But.

The situation is not hopeless.

I know it’s easy to read all that and think we’re all fucked, but I promise you, there is hope.

People have been unionizing, and striking at their workplaces.

Time and again, polls show that more people support queer people than oppose.

Time and again, polls show that the extremist view is a minority.

CPAC? That was practically empty this year.

More and more people are making it clear they want policies that help people and they’re tired of policies that help corporations.

People want to help the planet, they want to help other people. They don’t want to mass murder the “outsider.”

So what can you do?

Well, it varies depending on who you are, and where you are. Are you in Canada? Then vote and push for progressive policies, rather than right wing ones. In particular, you can join the push to allow asylum seekers to claim dangerous levels of queerphobia as their reason. This would help so many. Folks in other countries, I would reccomend the same. (Also maybe do something about that law preventing disabled people from immigrating to your country? Yeah, it’s a thing in a lot of countries. And there’s a lot of disabled queer people.)

You can join protests, and help local politicians canvas.

Unfortunately I can’t provide much info on what to do if you’re in most countries where being queer is either criminalized or being criminalized.

If you’re in the US though...

First off, for my white readers, are you familiar with the term antiracism? No? I recommend reading Ibram Kendi’s How to Be Antiracist. There’s a lot of racism in queer circles and it needs to stop. The way we solve these issues is through intersectionality, which means listening when black queer folks speak up. Listen. Learn. Improve.

This is important, because I need folks to understand that black queer folks are far more likely to be arrested, or worse. The cops will target black drag queens before they target white ones. They’ll target black trans folks before they target white ones.

Because this country is built on racism, and racism plays a key part in how laws are policed.

I’m not saying be careless if you’re a white queer btw, but recognize the levels of oppression here, work on improving yourself, but also? Use other people’s racism to protect black queer folk.

Weird sentence, I know, but let me explain, as this actually came up during the 2020 protests.

Say you’re at a protest, and the cops show up. The cops will try to arrest, injure, and/or provoke the black people there. But. If you’re white, you can stand inbetween the cop and the black person. If you get a bunch of other white people to join you, you can create a wall protecting multiple black people. And while you and the other white people aren’t immune from being arrested, injured, and/or provoked by the cops, you and other white people are more likely to come away unscathed.

There’s a bunch of situations this is applicable btw. Just don’t get all “white savior” about it, understand there’s a whole lot of history behind why black people might be wary of you and that’s okay, and ensure black people have the space to speak.

Alrighty, long spiel targeted to one particular demographic over. As for other things to be done? Be aware of the bills being passed in your state. Protest what you can. Make plans for escape if you need to.

Remember these things when crafting your escape plan: -Where?: This will effect everything else. A handful of states have passed bills making them trans refuge states, however getting to them may not be easy. You’ll also need to consider potential support structures that are there. -When?: This will depend on factors like what bills are being passed, how likely you are to be effected, and more. If you’re able to, consider making this a “normal” move rather than a last minute escape. -Finances: If you need to leave at the drop of a hat, can you? Are there any places you can cut back to save money? Are there any organizations that can help you? What about jobs? -Ease of escape: If you’re not in a position where you can move over the course of a month or two, this is where you need to really consider what you need and what you can leave behind. Also attempt to tie up as many loose ends as possible, and reduce the amount of objects you own as much as you can. Having a “go bag” can be extremely helpful. -Transportation: Can you drive? Do you have a license? Is getting a license feasible for you? What transportation is needed to get to the safe zone? Depending on the bills passed, you may want to have multiple options at hand. Documents: Linking back to finances and the go bag. What are your important documents? Where are they? What might you need in a new place and/or to claim asylum? Do you have a passport? Do you have a REALID? Currently you can fly domestically without one, but that could change swiftly. Keep everything together in a fireproof lockbox, until you need to throw it in the go bag. Lots of things to consider, which is why it’s important to think of this stuff ahead of time.

But it’s not all about escaping. Are you in a position you can help folks? Great! Look into mutual aid groups, find out what’s needed and how you can best help people.

So. This lengthy post is all to say the situation is bad, and we need to plan like it’s bad. But that doesn’t mean it’s hopeless. There’s places to escape, there can be even more with increased effort. We can work together to ensure that people stay safe, while also protesting.

And while I used the word “strong” in the title, it’s more complicated than that. You don’t have to be a bulwark. You don’t have to be stone. You can cry, and you can show weakness. This is stressful.

WHich is why, I want to be clear, this will not resolve in a short period of time. This may take years. The bills are passing incredibly quickly, but the resulting fallout? That’s the unknown variable.

The human body is not built to be stressed for years.

It’s just not.

That means the best way to remain strong against the tide of hate, is to have moments of joy. Watch silly videos, play silly games with friends, create beautiful art! Cry! Express your stress, and sadness. Then hold that ember of anger close to your chest, letting it motivate you, but not letting it take over until the moment is right.

Be prepared, be aware, but do not let the stress overcome you. On top of the multitude of negative physical effects, it can lead to snapping at those you love, or jumping the gun too soon. It leads to bad decisions at times those can be deadly.

But by having those moments of joy, you will survive. You will survive the hatred. Together, with the rest of us.

#cw transphobia #cw politics #cw genocide #cw: systemic racism #not a completely negative post btw!#i discuss hope and what you can do

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sab-teraa · 2 years

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Your takes on Rishi Sunak read exactly like you're a tory if you were British 😳 yes he's poc, yes he's the first poc to be pm in this country, but that means fuck all when his policies are going to affect much of the persons of colour in this country negatively. But wow its a huge moment because representation Matters?

This is what happens when you think the entire world revolves around you and your country 😭

I literally responded to the post from the perspective of someone who lives in a POC country 😐 you cannot assume that just bc someone is a POC they will automatically care about the poor + POC. If that was the case, my country and many other countries similar would not be suffering the way we are … we would not have over 60%+ of our population living in poverty, shitty education policies etc.

Also, assuming that he should just care about POC bc he is a POC is just another form of identity politics + populism (or wanting a populist president). The EXACT SAME THING YALL SHAME MODI, BOLSONARO, TRUMP etc + their voters for 🥲 obvs not as extreme, but still identity politics.

People in general are individualistic and selfish… their own interests will always come first. If you think ANY politician … no matter the party is diff … I’m calling indoctrination 😭 you’re out here fighting for your l*ftist besties and your besties are out here dining with your ‘enemies’.

Also, when did I say representation matters? I literally LOL bc it’s such a ???? Who would have ever presumed that we would have such a full circle moment lmao???? I personally don’t care about representation, I care about the most qualified and appropriate person having the job - once again stemming from the issues in MY COUNTRY!! Y’all always want to compare the west to the global south but now it’s problem when we do it? Let’s not act like y’all don’t come to our countries and talk about how ‘cheap’ stuff is here etc. without taking into consideration OUR lived experiences.

Also, wtf should I not be impressed by his academic credentials ?? It’s impressive af … especially considering that almost all of my leaders are liberation leaders, who have no qualifications for their position. Which in turn has resulted in rolling blackouts, lack of water, high unemployment, unequal affirmative action policies (in a sense that it’s created an elite group of POC rather than helping the majority), and a failing education system with a 30% pass rate.

So yes, education does not equate to worth, but having people who actually studied something relating to their field and getting the job had me SHOOK bc the conversation is such a contrast to what’s happening in my COUNTRY. But I once again forgot, I have no right to talk from the perspective of my country 😭👍🏽👍🏽 the entire world revolves around your country!! My bad <33

Tho, one thing that has pissed me off (I didn’t think it would bc im not the most in tune with my Indian culture or religion), is how anti-Hindu are lot of these posts calling Rishi out are. But yeah … your identity politics is selective yeah? 😵‍💫oh and how can I forgot, people that aren’t from the west have no right to feel attacked when people demonize them 😔👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽 we just need to agree to however ppl treat us bc our politicans are poc 👍🏽👍🏽

#ask

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starryevermore · 3 years

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quid pro quo: the white house ✧ andy barber & bucky barnes

quid pro quo ✧ an andy barber & bucky barnes anthology | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: potus!andy barber x flotus!reader x secret service!bucky

summary: your husband has been sworn in, and it’s time to celebrate.

word count: 1,848

warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, pet name (doll), fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, anal, double penetration, dumbification, name calling (whore, slut, dumb little baby, little girl), not proofread

note: this is more of an anthology than a series. every part exists in the same universe, but parts can be read in any particular order. there is no set update schedule for this; new parts come whenever they come. feel free to request anything you’d like to see in this universe.

You can still remember the first time your husband told you to seek comfort in the arms of another. How he told you that he’d be busier than ever before—you were already used to seldom seeing him. You’d met him when he was still an ADA, and you’d been there when he ran for Senate. You were used to him not being around that often. But being the president of an entire country? Yeah, you weren’t going to see around all that much. You hadn’t even seen him that much on the campaign trail.

Sure, you had your appearances with him, supported him in any and all public events, but Andy Barber the Politician was a lot different than Andy Barber the Doting Husband. Lately, the politician side overtook everything, and it left you wanting for more than Andy could provide. And he knew it. And your bodyguard, the member of the Secret Service who’d been assigned to protect you after Andy secured the Democratic nomination, knew it. So, when Andy first made the proposal, the two of you knew exactly who you would find comfort in.

It was the perfect arrangement. Because he was assigned to protect you, it wasn’t suspicious for James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes to be by your side at any hour of the day. Even the hours where you weren’t working on something to help with Andy’s campaigns. Bucky, like your husband, was an attentive lover. A real giver. Always made sure that your pleasure was first and foremost. Most days that he took care of you, it was solely focused on you. He could spend hours like that, buried between your legs, pushing you over the edge again and again and again. The best times, though, was when Andy had a rare moment of downtime, an evening where he didn’t have to turn in early, and they’d have you practically singing for them.

And tonight? Oh, they were going to spoil you rotten like that.

You smoothed out your dress as you stepped out of the car, nodding at the man who’d opened the door for you. Your husband stood a few feet in front of you, his hand outstretched, a gentle smile on your face. You slipped your hand in his, allowing him to lead you up the steps. In front of him was his own Secret Service, Bucky and his team bringing up the rear.

You glanced over your shoulder, looking out at the swarm of people on the other side of the gate, the flashing cameras nearly blinding you. You threw them a wave and a bright smile. The press would like that, you were sure. Andy’s team, too. Andy swore that the reason he won was ‘cause he had a strong but still kind woman by his side. You’d always laugh, tell him he won of his own volition, but that, if he kept up his compliments, you’d be sure to treat him real well.

The White House was larger than you’d imagined. You’d never seen it up close before, only seeing it from the other side of its heavily guarded fence. Andy had been, though, seemingly comfortable in your home for the next four years. He gave your hand a squeeze as you marveled at the building, trying to not ooh and ahh at the impressive sight.

You were a bit of a history nerd, having studied history and political science during your undergrad before going after your PhD, eventually securing a job as a professor in Harvard’s Department of Government. That was how you’d met your husband. He’d been doing a guest lecture for some of the law students, and you’d met him as he was on his way out. In a cliché only fit for the best romance novels, you’d ran straight into him, spilling your coffee all over his well pressed suit. You’d sworn it was an accident, but he said the only way he’d forgive you is if you let him take you to get another cup of coffee. And, well, the rest was history.

“I can take it from here,” Bucky said, once the doors were shut. The other Secret Service dispersed and he took the lead, nodding his head to follow him as he led you down the winding halls to your new bedroom.

You tried to not let the excitement show on your face, to look as tired as you’d felt, to not give away about what was to transpire to any of the staff lingering in the hall.

“Been a long day. Glad you were by my side, doll,” Andy said. “Made the whole day a lot more bearable.”

Bucky, having reached the bedroom, opened the door, pushing it open, before turning. “Gave us all something good to look at, too. Was gettin’ sick of lookin’ at that old man.”

“Bucky!” you laughed. “Play nice.”

“Only do that for you, doll.”

Andy led you into the bedroom, Bucky slipping in behind him and shutting the door. You looked around. The room was relatively bare, nothing personal about it, save for your unpacked bags that had been brought in early in the day.

“How do you want her first, boss?” Bucky asked.

“You have your fun first, Barnes,” Andy said, letting go of your hand before sinking into a chair in front of the bed. “Know it’s hard havin’ to deal with her on days like this. Think you should get the first taste.”

Andy didn’t need to say another word. Bucky was spinning you around, trapping you against his chest, as he captured your lips with his own. You moaned, gripping onto his shoulders as his tongue found his way past your lips, exploring the present Andy so graciously gave him. His hands slipped down your back, pulling the zipper down before pushing the fabric away. He unclasped your bra next, tossing it over at Andy who only chuckled at his antics.

You barely had time to process him pulling away, or him tossing you onto the bed as though you were nothing more than an actual doll. He kissed his way up your ankles to your thighs, nipping at the soft skin before yanking your lacy blue panties down.

“Well, would you look at that, all nice and wet already. Were you like that out there, doll? Were you so desperate to be fucked while we spoke to the reporters? While your husband was being sworn in? ”

You whined, clenching down hard as his metal fingers pushed their way into your dripping pussy. It was almost pathetic how much you loved his fingers, the pure pleasure they brought you incomparable. He lapped at your core, his tongue swirling over clit.

“You gonna come for Buck, doll?” Andy asked as your eyes screwed shut, your hands clutching fistfuls of the sheet. “You gonna be a good girl for him? Do it, doll. Come for him.”

Stars clouded your vision as you toppled over the edge, your thighs squeezing Bucky’s head, holding him in place as you trembled. As you came down from your high, you released your hold, letting him come back up, licking your juices off of his metal digits.

“Sweet as a peach,” he smirked. He looked over at Andy. “Think she’s ready for her real treat, don’t you?”

“I think she is,” Andy replied. “You want her ass or her cunt?”

Oh, you loved the way they talked about you like you weren’t even there. As if you were just there for pleasure and pleasure only, like you didn’t even need to bother thinking when you were with them.

“Cunt, you know it’s my favorite.”

Bucky undressed himself in what seemed like record time before he picked you up, your weak legs wrapping around his wait, before he laid down on the bed. Behind you, you could hear Andy shuffling around the bags, before he let out a quiet “ah! found you!”. You felt the crown of Bucky’s cock rub against your slit, before he pulled you down on him, you moaning as he filled you to the brim. You heard a cap pop! open behind before you felt the globs of lube hit your puckered hole, Andy working it in with his fingers while Bucky began to rock his hips.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Andy pushed himself into your ass, slowly to let you adjust. Bucky only picked up the pace, moving faster, keeping your thoughts away from the initial pain you were feeling, keeping you away from your thoughts all together.

“So fucking tight,” Andy groaned. “Like you were fuckin’ made for this. Our good little whore, made just for our cocks.”

You clenched down harder at the name, babbling that yeah, you’re their whore, their whore.

“You like bein’ our whore, huh? If only the press could see you like this, takin’ our cocks so well. Bet they wouldn’t think you were a good girl then, would they? Nah, they’d know the true slut you really are,” Bucky taunted.

“No, no, good girl. Good girl,” you whined, your head falling onto Bucky’s chest.

“Look how fuckin’ dumb she gets for us, Buck. Barely even started and she’s already fuckin’ droolin’ for us.”

You weren’t sure who was even speaking, crying out as one of them—which one was it?—hit a sensitive spot deep inside you. You could barely hold on. Everything was too much. Too much, too much.

“Can’t fuckin’ blame. Had to act like a big girl out there all day, but we both know this dumb little baby would rather be takin’ our cocks. Ain’t that right, little girl? ”

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, burying your face in Bucky’s chest. “Just wanna come, please let me come.”

“That desperate already?” Andy taunted, his hand smacking your ass, admiring the way it jiggled. “Go ahead, doll, come for us.”

You practically sobbed as you fell over the edge again, barely able to catch your breath. Andy and Bucky weren’t too far behind, or at least that’s what you thought. Time felt meaningless as they used your body to get themselves off, the only sign that they were done being when you felt their cum slowly drip down your thighs as they pulled, rolling you onto your side so you could snuggle into your husband’s chest, Bucky pressed up against your back.

“Took us so well, doll. Absolutely fuckin’ perfect,” Andy said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Bucky kissed along your neck, squeezing you tightly, as he mumbled, “There’s more where that came from, just rest for a minute and we’ll go again, yeah? Wanna make sure you know just how much we appreciate you.”

“‘ppreciate you too,” you whispered. “Love you both.”

“We love you, too, now rest okay, doll?”

“Okay.”

And, though you were supposed to be resting before the next round started, all you could think about was the next place you could convince the two of them to take you in would be. Hmm, perhaps the Oval Office would be the best choice...

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sineala · 3 years

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Is 616 Tony a Democrat or Republican or neither? I’ve seen posts comparing him to Trump (barf!)

Wow. Geez. You don't ask easy questions, do you, anon?

First off, I am going to assume that whoever was comparing 616 Tony to Trump was trying to slander Tony. And I will tell you that we do in fact have 616 Tony's canonical opinion of Trump -- yes, Donald Trump exists on Earth-616 and has been referenced in several comics -- and he doesn't seem to like him much. I mean, this is back when Trump was primarily being known for being a New York businessman. They canonically ran in the same circles and Tony canonically knows him. He doesn't like him.

Here's Tony in Iron Man v1 #227 complaining that Trump bought him out of a building:

And here's Tony again in Iron Man v3 #37 being not especially thrilled when he thinks that the person he is about to meet is Trump:

(The person he is actually meeting is Tiberius Stone, which is also a very bad idea.)

I am also going to point out that due to the way Marvel likes to handle politics in its comics, I don't think we can say anything about the canonical political affiliation of most characters, because Marvel deliberately leaves that undefined. So to the best of my knowledge, we don't have a canonical statement about Tony's political affiliation and we probably won't ever get one.

But we can speculate based on canonical evidence, can't we?

My very long answer is under the Read More.

Your question is sort of framed as "tell me if Tony is a good or a bad person," and I would like to suggest that this is not really a useful framing for several reasons: (1) what the political parties currently stand for is pretty recent, actually, and Tony as a character predates a lot of the modern conceptions of the two parties; (2) the history of the Democratic Party specifically in New York, where Tony is from, is, let's just say, not 100% pure and unproblematic; and (3), when we're talking about someone with the amount of money, connections, and influence that Tony has, party affiliation generally doesn't mean the same thing it would mean for us ordinary mortals. What I mean by that last point is that there is a big, big difference between every one of the following list of statements: "I would vote for Republicans," "I am a registered Republican," "I would give very large amounts of money to Republicans," and "I would accept a political appointment in a Republican administration." For most of us, the last two of those points aren't ever going to be something that comes up in our lives, but they are going to be things that matter very much for someone like Tony Stark. And we have a canonical answer for at least one of those things. We can theorize about at least some of the rest of them.

I'm saying all that because I suspect you're really not going to like my answer.

I think that there is a very, very high chance that 616 Tony is a Republican.

I mean, I don't think he'd be a Republican right now at this exact moment in time, are you kidding me, but I feel like he has definitely been a Republican at some point in the past. Say, before Trump. One of those socially-liberal fiscally-conservative types. With a conscience. Sort of like Mitt Romney. Picture the kind of Republican Massachusetts likes to keep electing as their governor.

Yes, is possible that, since Tony is from New York, he's a lifelong Democrat. It is definitely possible. New York is heavily Democratic in our world, and barring contradictory evidence, that is probably also the case on Earth-616. But I think that, specifically because of the rest of Tony's background and the ways that Tony has interacted with the world of politics in 616, he is most likely to be a Republican. It doesn't mean he couldn't be a Democrat! I have no proof either way! In terms of several elements of his characterization -- say, his commitment to social justice and fighting inequity -- I would say he definitely leans Democrat, because these days that sort of thing is mostly the province of the Democrats, although I suspect that back when Tony was created it wouldn't have been out of character for a lot of Republicans. I'm just saying that Republican seems more likely. If you gotta pick one. I think you could definitely argue for either. He doesn't fit completely into either but his canon interactions with politics push me toward thinking he's a Republican, because he does several specific things that I think it would be unlikely that anyone other than a Republican would be given the opportunity to do at the specific time that he does them.

Yeah. I know.

Right. Okay. Tony is extremely, extremely rich, and even though I know that he is basically the fantasy of The One Good Ethical Billionaire (more on this in a sec), it's probably worth thinking about what actual real-life rich people do with their money in ways that intersect with politics. And the answer to that is, well, generally they give money to politicians who are favorable to, say, helping them continue to have money. Now, yes, as far as I know there is no evidence of Tony doing this in canon -- this is where all the conjecture comes in. So we ask ourselves, okay, if Tony were to endorse particular politicians because of this, what party would he give money to? Who would he want to get in good with? In most parts of the country, that would probably be the Republican party. But, specifically in New York, it's the Democrats.

So, yeah, one of the big points in favor of him being a Democrat is that, well, Democrats traditionally run New York. The class of old-money New York elites are pretty stereotypically Democrats. And that would include Tony. Which is not to say that he couldn't be a Republican, but if he wants to get anywhere with New York politicians, and I suspect he probably does because he is trying to run a series of very large businesses and he owns a fair amount of real estate including several buildings whose permitting processes I can only imagine fall into the category of “probably highly irregular" -- I mean, he has multiple jets that he regularly lands on his house and secret underwater tunnels for a submarine -- he has to cozy up to Democrats. If he gives money to anyone involved in politics, that's who he gives money to. Making superhero bases probably took a lot of money. A massive amount of money. The city planners probably cry when they see him coming.

(At one point I believe they did ban him from keeping the Quinjets in his house. That was when the Avengers had the Hydrobase.)

I tend to assume most people know something about the history of the Democrats in New York, or at least the history of US political parties in general, but the tl;dr version is that the parties haven't always stood for the same things that they do now. They also weren't always the same parties. And historically, in New York, the political machine gives you Democrats. That's just the way it is. The Democratic Party of the past was not really, um, devoted to all the same causes as the current Democratic Party. And it was very hard to get anywhere in New York and not be a Democrat. It still is. If you haven't read up on Tammany Hall, maybe you should. There was a lot of corruption. I mean, yeah, it's not currently a thing, but the Democrats remained in power in New York; it dissolved probably around about the time the Republican Party explicitly decided that the way to win the South was to appeal to the racism of white voters ("the Southern strategy"). Because, yes, before that a lot of white, conservative Southerners were traditionally Democrats. And then the Democrats split about civil rights, and, uh, the Republicans took in the racists.

Anyway! US political history is sure a land of contrasts! Rich New Yorkers are traditionally Democrats! That is a point for Tony possibly being a Democrat, yes. Moving on!

But Tony is not just a random old-money New Yorker. He inherited Howard Stark's money and Howard Stark's company. And Howard was, well, a defense contractor. And so was Tony, until he stopped making weapons. And, uh, being a defense contractor is, um, one of those things that is extremely, extremely Republican. No, I don't have stats to back this up. Just trust me. So, yeah, he's a rich New Yorker -- but he's also a defense contractor from a family of defense contractors. I would be amazed if Howard Stark were anything other than a Republican. Which is not to say that Tony could not be a Democrat anyway, but the job does come with a certain predisposition.

(Incidentally, one of the other things Tony inherited from Howard was his membership in the Hellfire Club, which is one of those things I keep forgetting about until canon smacks me in the face with it every few years.)

We all know that the conception of Tony, as a character, is basically the fantasy of the Ethical Billionaire. He is The Best At Capitalism. He has money and he is not corrupted by it. He has money and he uses it to do the maximum amount of good in the world because that is what he really, deeply wants to do. He supports a large number of philanthropic causes! He has a foundation named after his mother! He funds programs for low-income youth! He runs a homeless shelter for women! Throughout his history, he has been consistently portrayed as a deeply, deeply kind human being, who wants to help people. A lot of people! People who aren't like him! People who might not even like him! That is just... who he is, as a person.

And these days we tend to associate that kind of push for systemic change and caring about social issues and remedying inequity with Democrats, but that wasn't always the case. I think it still would have been believable coming from a Republican, oh, around about the time Tony came into existence. He was created back when you could be an elected Republican and, uh, push social policies that I think these days we would consider progressive. I mean, Eisenhower was the one who started integrating schools, right? The Republicans are the party of Lincoln! It's not like Republicans are prevented from doing good things. And I think we need to keep in mind that Tony dates from the early 60s when socially-progressive was still a thing Republicans could conceivably be.

So, yes, Tony is very kind. It's nice. We all like that about him. But also many of the ways in which he is kind to people are very much Republican fantasies. Like, yes, he's a great boss. He's close to his employees. They're like family. If any of his employees have problems, he helps them out on a personal, individual level -- and that, as an ideal, seems very Republican to me. I mean, he's a CEO, right? He's owned a lot of companies. Are any of them unionized? Combing through Wiki, I find one reference to a union in ToS 63, which is really, really early -- you know, back when unions were more popular. I can't find anything after that. And nothing is coming to mind. So, I mean, yes, we have now established his employees were at one point unionized, but he's certainly not known for, say, running a union shop. Part of the fantasy of the Ethical Billionaire is the idea that Tony's employees don't need unions because Tony is so kind and so generous and so personally selflessly good that he takes care of everyone who works for him. And the thing is, Tony actually does do this. He is fictional and therefore capable of achieving perfection.

Okay. He's a fictional character. Let's step back a little and think about fictional characters, and specifically the way Marvel Comics depicts fictional characters interacting with well-known real people. Many real people from our Earth do seem to exist in 616. Earth-616 is not our Earth in a vast number of ways, but one thing it shares with our Earth is presidents. Whoever is the real-life president when a comic comes out is pretty much generally president on Earth-616 at the time. Yes, I'm going somewhere with this.

Now, for whatever reason, Marvel often does not canonically refer to presidents by their names in dialogue, but the artists pretty much draw whoever is president at the time when someone in canon needs to meet the president. (Captain America seems to get to meet the president a lot. I'm sure you're shocked.)

There are a couple exceptions to "everyone who looks like the president is the president,” namely that Marvel says that the villain who was Number One of the Secret Empire in Captain America v1 #175, who attempted to conspire with aliens to take over the Earth, whom Steve watched commit suicide -- anyway, the official Marvel word is, I believe, that this guy is not Richard Nixon, but Steve Englehart, who wrote the comic, says it absolutely was:

And, yes, this is the incident that causes Steve to lose faith in America and become Nomad. You can kind of see why that would be traumatic. Marvel clearly had some feelings about Watergate they needed to process.

Anyway, I just wanted to put in a picture of that time Ronald Reagan was turned into a snake person. It's Captain America v1 #344:

I love comics.

More recent presidents still make appearances in the comics, and they are the president who was the real-life president at the time. For example, the president who pardons Steve for all his SHRA-related crimes in Who Will Wield The Shield is definitely Obama:

And that means that I must also unfortunately inform you that Hydra Steve also received a presidential pardon:

Though the issue in question (Captain America v9 #8) does not specifically name the president, following the "whoever is the actual president is the 616 president" rule, the president who canonically pardoned Hydra Steve is... Donald Trump.

Let's just pause here to contemplate this. Take as long as you need.

(I was today years old when I learned that Hydra Steve has been dead in comics for over a year. Since the issue in which he was pardoned, actually. Which is an issue I am sure I read the day it came out, but somehow I missed the four entire pages where Hydra Steve is set on fire and burns to death while hailing Hydra with his last breath. I guess it wasn't memorable! I mention because I am pretty sure I am not the only one who missed this.)

Anyway. I do have a point to make here, and my point is this: Tony has received political appointments. Two of them, in fact. In the 2003-2004 Iron Man arc "The Best Defense," Tony becomes Secretary of Defense. He does get Senate confirmation; it's not a deputy appointment. He actually gets unanimous confirmation. And I know that Tony had this job is a fact that everyone knows about Tony, but I feel like a lot of people may not be totally conscious of the timeframe involved here, and by that I mean that he is absolutely, positively, the Secretary of Defense for Earth-616's George W. Bush. Yes, I am sure of this.

Here is Tony with the president in Iron Man v3 #78, being told he got the job:

Yeah. That’s George W. Bush.

Can a Cabinet appointment cross party lines? I mean, sure, it's possible. I am not the kind of giant politics nerd who has this memorized, but there is in fact, a Wikipedia page for US political appointments across party lines. And it looks like there have been five cross-party Secretaries of Defense and five Secretaries of War. So, I mean, yes, it's happened, but it's fairly rare. None of the cross-party Secretaries of Defense (deputy secretaries excluded, since they weren't confirmed, obviously) were ever Democrats appointed by Republicans. And since we're looking at Dubya's administration specifically, it looks like only one of his Cabinet appointees (Transportation) was cross-party. So it looks like he in particular would not have been especially likely to appoint a Democrat to his Cabinet, since in real life he only had the one.

So to me it seems that the most likely party affiliation for Tony has to be Republican, because of this. Sure, the appointment could have crossed party lines. But I feel like it's just... not likely. Being a Republican Secretary of Defense in a Republican administration just seems way, way more possible.

(Also I'd like everyone to remember that Tony is replacing the previous Secretary of Defense because the previous Secretary of Defense was secretly the Red Skull and released an engineered flesh-eating virus at Mount Rushmore. Just, y'know, to set the mood.)

What's more, Tony gets a second political appointment from the Bush administration. It's not a Cabinet position, but he does become the Director of SHIELD in 2007. Here Tony is with the president, slightly earlier, in Civil War #1:

This is not really as good a likeness of Bush as the previous and I guess you could argue that the artist was drawing A Generic Politician but I feel like, y'know, it's probably still meant to be Bush. And Tony may not have wanted this particular job -- we know he definitely didn't -- but he absolutely wanted to be Secretary of Defense. So we know that he is definitely fine with serving in a Republican administration.

So, yeah, that's my argument: odds are pretty good that Tony has, at some point in his life, been a Republican. Maybe not right now. But probably in the past.

Having said that, given the way Marvel handles politics, I don't think it's likely to ever be much of an issue in canon; the Avengers mostly just tend to get to get along with whoever the president is at the time and I can't recall really anything about partisan issues. However, you're never going to convince me 616 Steve was anything other than a New Deal Democrat -- even though I know that in Cap #250 he turns down both the Democrats and the Republicans when they ask him to run for president -- because, I mean, come on. I assume that he and Tony probably try not to discuss politics ever anymore, because we all know how the SHRA went. They probably mostly agree, but when they disagree, people have a tendency to end up dead.

That was probably more than you ever wanted to know about my thoughts on this topic.

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cherrybracelets · 4 years

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Politics & Violence (one)

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summary: Your father is one of the most progressive presidents in history, and many praise you and your family for all the good you’ve done for the country. But there is a select group of radicals who plans to take the entire administration down, and the threat to you and your family is growing every day. Your father takes matters into his own hands when he hires individual body guards for each member of your family.

pairing: bodyguard!a. hotchner x presidents daughter!reader

words; 11.5k warnings: this fic will be 18+!!! lots of heavy stuff, drugs, alc, depression, sex, guns, violence, death

song inspo: politics and violence by dominic fike

an: hey this is my first hotch piece and I’m super nervous so please let me know what u think!! i will be making a full playlist for this fic and a moodboard so keep ur eyes peeled; this is also obviously non canon and the backstory hotch has here is completely made up by me also this is gone be two parts ok bye

Being the daughter of the president was hard enough, it doesn’t make it any easier that you’re fucking your bodyguard. You wouldn’t trade Hotch for the world, but it was exhausting keeping up with this life sometimes. You never thought of yourself as someone who would get entangled up into a secret like this. You felt it weighing on you all the time. Every secret glance between you two in the hall, every ‘accidental’ touch at an event, the secret kissing in the closets with the door locked and the lights off. It was a thrill, but also added unneeded strain to your life.

Hotch saw the effects he had on you, too. Both negative and positive. He knew that the love you two shared, the passion between you, would be unmatched with any other person. But he also knew how hard it was to keep that love a secret, to not hold hands in public, to lie to all of your friends and family. Most importantly, to lie to your dad. Loving him, being with him, it was a sacrifice.

Your dad had spent the past 23 years of his life doing everything he could to protect you. He hated that he brought you into this life; he hated this life himself. All he wanted was to help people, and he thought the best way would be politics. But he didn’t know that with his more modern takes, many people would hate him. And it got so bad that last year you started receiving death threats. A group of radicals had recently started sending individual letters to your whole family, making it clear how much they hated you and what your family stood for.

It was terrifying. And you were tired of it. You had been dealing with it your whole life, as he had been an important politician for a long time before winning the presidency. The cameras following you everywhere you went, never having real relationships with anybody because people just wanted the clout that came with knowing you. You were miserable, and were only finding happiness in the darkest of places, ironically. Partying, alcohol and drugs had taken over most of your nights, with a group of people who you wouldn’t really call your friends, but people who had allowed you to be miserable with them.

You had never really had friends, besides your siblings. People always wanted to be your friend, but almost never for genuine reason. And when someone was being genuine, which was rare, you had a hard time trusting and ultimately hurt the person to avoid being hurt yourself. It was a terrible cycle that you’d been dealing with for... a long time. Twenty three years to be exact, because the night of your twenty third birthday was when it all changed.

Your dad had called everyone to the house for a family dinner. At the time, you were living in some tiny studio across town, and your brother was shacking up with some girl he knew from college. It was pretty rare to get all of you together in one place, but for you and your brother, Matt’s birthday, it was extra important that everyone was there.

Your father always blocked out his schedule for birthdays, they were a big deal to him. And although you were dreading having to put on your happy face for an evening of passive aggressive comments and awkward small talk, you did it for him. He was the only member of your family who deserved even a second of your time.

So that night, you drove to your parents house, reminding yourself that it’s only a few hours and everything will be fine. There won’t be any issues, you and Matt won’t fight, the two younger siblings won’t fight, mom and dad won’t fight. No one will fight, you promised yourself. You’ll hold it together. You practiced your smile as you pulled in the driveway, hoping to not be too disingenuous when you saw everyone.

None of them were especially bad people, they just all had a lot of problems, and were especially bad at dealing with them. But, so were you. Comes with the territory of being a high profile political family, apparently. You already saw Matt’s car there as well, which made you nervous. Matt and your mother being alone together for very long without you to interject was never good. It could already be a disaster as soon as you walk in.

You got out of your car and walked slowly to the entrance, your head down. You didn’t like making eye contact with the secret service, they always made you incredibly nervous. They stood so still, but their eyes always followed you like a haunted painting. Someone opened the door for you, and you stepped through the entrance to an empty hall. You assumed they were in the dining room already, waiting for you.

As you walked there, you noticed an unusual silence of guards and other employees. Most people at least said hi to you as you walked by, but there was nothing tonight. Every face you passed was buried in paperwork or their phones, looking worried. When you finally arrived to the dining room, you walked into an unusual silence. There were quite a few guards that you hadn’t recognized, one specific one watching you intently as you greeted your family and sat in between your dad and Matt.

“Thank you for finally gracing us with your presence, princess,” Matt grumbled, raising his eyebrows in discontent as he shifted in his chair.

“I’m like, five minutes late dude, can you relax?” You protested, crossing your arms in frustration and avoiding looking at him.

“Guys, please don’t do this, not tonight for God’s sake,” your father interjected, his teeth tightly clenched together as he stared daggers at the two of you. His forehead was sweating, and his nails were bitten down to the point of bleeding. It had been almost two weeks since you’d last seen him, but he was not like this before. Something was happening, and you felt your stomach turn as you looked around the rest of the table and realized you were the only one out of the loop.

“What is happening with everyone right now?” You looked at your dad first, hoping he would step in and explain the obvious elephant in the room.

“Someone is trying to kill us all,” your little brother, Charlie, blurted out. He was young, only ten, and clearly didn't understand the gravity of the situation.

“Jesus, Charlie, way to freak her out,” your sister yelped, pushing him slightly.

“Charlie, Dani, both of you shut up!” Your mom yelled, slamming her fists down on the table loudly and making you all jump.

“Everyone, relax, okay,” your dad instructed calmly. It used to be you, mediating every fight and solving every issue. But you couldn’t do it anymore, and your dad knew. He needed to step up and fix the shattered remnants of your family. Unfortunately, that was a harder job than being the president.

“There have been some… issues, with this radical group based in Virginia. I get threats all the time, but, they are threatening each of you now. And I’m not going to put up with that. So, there’s going to be some changes around here.”

“Yeah, go ahead and tell her about how we have to move back home,” Matt objected.

“What?”

“It’s only temporary, (Y/N). We are doing everything we can to catch the guys who are doing this. But for now it is safest for all of you to be home.”

“I have a life, Dad. I can’t give up everything because you did some things that pissed people off.”

“Don’t be so selfish, (Y/N), this is about all of us, not just you.” Your mom took a long sip of her wine and sat back in her chair, preparing for the yelling that was about to ensue.

“You all each have a personal bodyguard as well, with high levels of combat training. They will be with you all day, everywhere you go. At night there will be a rotated shift of guards outside your doors.”

“Oh, wonderful.”

“Aaron, why don’t you come meet my lovely daughter,” your father muttered, motioning to one of the men standing behind him. As you suspected, the man who had not taken his eyes off of you since you arrived took a few steps forward, nodding respectively at you.

“At least yours is hot,” your brother whispered to you, rolling his eyes.

“My name is Aaron Hotchner, and I will do everything I can to keep you safe.” He stuck his hand out to you, and you grabbed it reluctantly, shaking his hand lightly. His touch was gentle, but his hands were strong and large compared to yours. He definitely looked the part.

“What about my trip next week?” You questioned, turning away from Hotch and back to your dad. “I’m supposed to go do that college campus tour in California. I leave in two weeks.”

“We all think you should still take that trip, it’s only a few weeks and Aaron will be with you the entire time. I don’t think the jet is a good idea, though. We’re going to have you fly commercial.”

“First class, I hope?” Your brother and mom both collectively rolled their eyes, and you just ignored them and continued to stare at your dad, awaiting his answers.

“Of course, darling.” He smiled politely, hoping to end the conversation here and get on with dinner. You decided it wasn’t worth pressing it, seeing how clearly your dad was falling apart, you didn’t want to add anymore stress to him.

The rest of the dinner was uneventful, for a change. You all made small talk, caught up on work and school- pretty boring stuff. The whole time, you felt his eyes on you. When you looked at him, he dragged his eyes away slowly, as if pretending he wasn’t watching your every move. You weren’t sure why he kept looking away when you noticed him- it was his job to watch you. It was almost as if the thought of your eyes meeting scared him.

The most exciting part about a dinner with your family was when you could finally leave and go home- but tonight, unfortunately, you did not have that luxury. Your bedroom here was already prepared, and you always had a few spare pairs of clothes here. You knew there was no way you could convince any of them to let you go home.

And you definitely could not go out with your friends. But they were blowing up your phone, talking about their plans to go out to some new club with some amazing new party drug. You looked around the room nervously, trying to plan an escape somehow. There had to be a way, you basically had a PhD in sneaking out.

“Well, it’s getting late, I think it’s time for us to get Mr. Charles to bed!” Your dad teased, making funny faces at your brother, who just laughed in return. It was nice seeing him so full of joy, still loving life. He hadn’t hit the rough years, yet. You missed that feeling, the feeling of not knowing that every day, no matter what, would be miserable.

“Yeah, I’m gonna head out. Breakfast tomorrow, Dani?”

“Really,” she sat up, tilting her head in confusion. She was 16, now, and was more miserable than the rest of you. Being sixteen and living this life is utterly exhausting. She looked up to you highly, and you always paid her extra attention. You didn’t want her to end up like you.

“Of course.” You kissed her on the head and hugged your dad, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone else. You walked through the doors quickly, a reluctant Aaron Hotchner following close behind.

“I thought you left me alone at night.”

“Once you’re safe and I’ve secured you in your room, I can pass my duties to another guard. I don’t see you safe in your room.”

“Okay, dude, I got it,” you rolled your eyes, watching him get closer to you with every step. He was right beside you, now, your arms both at your sides, your hands accidentally bumping together as you walked. The moment his flesh touched yours, you felt your whole body fill with heat, your throat feeling tight as the forbidden flesh touched yours. That was the first time you knew you wanted him, the first time you felt like you could lose yourself in him. He smelled of strong coffee and vanilla, pulling you in like a flower shop in a Spring day.

You stayed silent the rest of the walk, coming up to your bedroom door. “Honey is secure, send in the first shift.”

“Honey?”

“Code name.” He responded sternly.

“What does it mean?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. I just picked it when I saw your picture.” He seemed caught off guard, as if nobody had asked him that question before. You were pretty sure nobody had a codename like Honey.

You saw the other guard approaching, and Aaron seemed to relax a little as he saw the man. This man was a lot younger, and you didn’t feel nearly as protected with him. Which was probably why he was the night guard, and perfect for your plan. Aaron and the other man spoke secretly for a moment, before he turned and walked away without saying goodnight. You felt a little hurt, but also knew that it was his job to protect you, not to get close with you.

You went into your room and closed the door behind you, praying to God you had something cute to wear somewhere here. You searched around the closet, pulling garments off of hangers in frustration. Luckily you found an old dress that somehow still fit. You wiggled your way into it and fixed your hair a bit, hoping the low light of the club would cover for your bare face. You threw a robe on top of everything and shoved your heels into each pocket. You realized it was still pretty early, and decided to work on your presentation for your college tours.

You were pretty proud of your program actually. You had created a program for colleges to help get students to care more about politics, helping them to register to vote, understand laws and policies, amongst a million other things. It ended up being very successful, and your dad even credited you for helping him to win the presidency. Most of your life felt like you were stuck inside the darkest cloud to ever exist- but when you were working on this, doing your presentations for people just like you… it gave you something to live for. It was one of the few reasons you had to keep going, in all honesty.

And by the time you looked up at the clock, it was already almost 11, and your friends were on their way to the secret exit to pick you up. Yeah, there were plenty of hidden exit spots around the building that weren’t patrolled. You and Matt pretty much discovered that the first day you moved in here. You let your friends know that you’d be out soon, and you got yourself ready to go. You quietly opened the door to see the guard standing silently, turning towards you when he heard the noise.

“Hey, super sorry, my mom just texted me to come to her room. I’ll be right back!” You smiled confidently, closing the door and trying to start walking before he questioned you.

“I should probably go with you,” he requested.

“Oh, no, it’s fine. There’s a million of you guys on the way to her room. Plus, what if someone tries to sneak in my room. How will you know?”

“Oh… alright,” he muttered, awkwardly. “Just don’t take too long.”

You nodded in agreement and skipped down the hallway, people stopping to look at you momentarily before ultimately deciding they had something more important to do than worry about you. When you got to the back secret staircase, you dropped your robe and slipped your heels. Your friends were waiting for you at the door, greeting you with squeals and hugs.

“The uber is right outside the gate, let’s go!” One of them said, sprinting to the exit. You all followed quickly, laughing and twirling in the warm summer air. That was weirdly easy. You had never had such an easy time getting out. You slowed down a bit, your friends brushing past you. Something felt off. But right now, you were out, and you could at least enjoy it while it lasts. You shook your negativity off and ran to catch up with them, exiting the gate and running up the street. You stopped at your Uber and slid into the back with two others. When the doors were all closed and the car started moving, your friend in the passenger seat turned around with a handful of small blue pills.

“Have one!”

“What is it?”

“It’s a whole lot of fun, that I know for sure.” He raised his eyebrows goofily, giggling as you shrugged and took a pill. You washed it down with a swig of vodka from someone’s flask. You winced at the sharp taste of the alcohol, feeling it burning your throat and descending into your stomach.

The music on the radio was bumping loudly, each beat of the bass shaking the car. You felt everyone moving around you so quickly, but you were frozen. Your body wouldn’t move. You didn’t feel scared, though. You almost felt that if you couldn’t move, if all you could do was just sit there and listen, no one could possibly hurt you anymore. You were finally safe.

But then a hand touched yours, and the reality of your pause in time came crashing down. Your whole body jerked, and you snapped back to reality to see your friend trying to drag you from the car and into the club. She hadn’t even noticed your temporary disconnect from reality, or if she did, she didn’t care. She, just like all of you, just wanted to party. The last thing you wanted was to come face to face with your problems.

The club was dark and smoky, blurring the faces of those around you, everyone just becoming silhouettes of themselves. Someone passed you something to smoke, and you took a drag without hesitation. You got swept up into the crowd, your body moving with theirs like seaweed in a flowing ocean. Your feet were attached to the ground, but your body floated as if the wind was carrying it in her hands. Someone came up behind you, wrapping their hands around your waist and tracing their lips up your neck. Their body moved in sync with yours, the universe holding you together like a moon to it’s orbiting planet.

“Shots!” A voice nearby called. You instinctively recognized the voice, and trailed off to find the rest of your friends passing around a bottle. You joined excitedly, wrapping your arms around one of them and reaching for the bottle. You took a long swig, not even tasting the overpriced tequila, just letting it pour straight down your throat and into your body. The walls around you turned into stained glass, the sunlight pouring in a shining a beautiful rainbow of light on the crowd around you. You remembered the blue pill you took in the car, and felt happy. He was right, this was a whole lot of fun.

The music picked up a bit, and you felt each beat pulsing through your body as if it were your own heartbeat. You dragged a person from your group out to the dance floor, needing to move your body. Luckily the rest of the group followed, dancing with you, the blue pills pulling you all into the same universe. You loved moments like this, where you lost yourself, where you couldn’t even remember what real life was like even if you tried. The thought of that scared a lot of people, and you understood why. For many people, their reality was way better than anything a drug could create for them. But for some people, and for you, you needed to disappear into another existence in order to survive.

You had no idea how long you had been dancing, it felt like only seconds but your body felt like it had been moving for hours. You were still slightly lost in your mind, the drug slowly wearing off and bringing you down to the harsh reality of the come down. You felt a hand grab tightly onto your wrist, and you yelped. You couldn’t see who it was, but they were tugging at you harshly, and you couldn’t resist much longer. Your body was tired and weak, and this man was strong. You finally felt yourself moving through the people and towards the exist, still no sight of who had their hands locked to you.

If you someone snuck out and died, your dad would be so pissed. You started feeling scared, not enough drugs left in you to block out the reality of the situation. You panicked, trying to pull your hand away and scream. But no one noticed, everyone was lost in their own universes, completely away from reality, where you needed them. That was the downfall of this lifestyle, of course. Sometimes people could lose themselves a little too much.

You managed to get pulled out the door, the fresh air smacking you harshly right in the face. You felt dizzy, the lights of the city around you spinning wildly. You sat down on the pavement, pulling whoever took you out down with you. You tried to look up at him, but felt queasy when you moved your head.

“Just take a deep breathe,” a man whispered, placing his hand on your back and rubbing slowly. “Here’s some water.” He handed you an opened bottle, your fingers touching lightly and instantly making you feel better. His touch was almost healing, like he was pulling the pain right out of you. The longer he kept his hand on you, the better you felt. You sipped slowly on the water, the cold liquid flowing through you and cleansing your body.

“We need to get going,” he instructed, pulling at your arm to get up.

“Hotchner,” you muttered, finally realizing the mystery man that was stealing you away into the night.

“It’s Aaron.”

“I don’t like that. Doesn’t fit. I do like Hotch-” you hiccuped. “Hotch, actually, that’s pretty bad ass.” You giggled loudly, Hotch helping you into the front seat of the car and buckling you in. He went around the front and got into the drivers seat, starting the car with a grunt.

“How did you find me?”

“How long do you think Cooper would’ve waited until he realized you weren’t with your mom.”

“That’s not what I asked,” you sat up, taking a deep breath and looking over at the man. “I knew you’d realize I was gone. How did you find me?”

Hotch moved his lips uncomfortably, his eyes shifting back and forth.

“Why would you go out when you know how much danger you’re in? You’re an extremely intelligent woman on paper, (Y/N), but you are clearly so incredibly stupid.”

You gasped in awe, your heart racing and heat flushing to your cheeks. You were blushing like a strawberry, digging your nails into your palms to refrain yourself from screaming at him, or punching him, or just getting out of the car at the next red light.

“You don’t know anything about me, Aaron. Don’t pretend you know me from reading a few of my daddy’s notes.” You sat back in exhaustion, feeling your eyes fill with tears. You willed yourself to not cry in front of him, to hold it together until you were alone. The last person you wanted to break down in front of was him.

“We’re stopping somewhere, before we get you home.” His voice was calmer this time, clearly realizing you were upset. He didn’t look at you the rest of the ride, staring ahead at the road, focusing intently on the cars around him. You recognized the street as he started to park, realizing you were at your apartment.

“What are we doing here?” You muttered in confusion, looking around at the familiar buildings.

“Let’s go inside.”

He turned the car off and got out, walking around to you and opening your door. You reluctantly got out, and walked slowly to the front door of your building. You realized quickly you didn’t have your keys, and turned to him. As if he read your mind, he held up your keys in his hand and nodded at you. He walked to the door and typed in the code to unlock it, revealing the lobby of your apartment building. You were on the second floor, and the two of you walked slowly up the stairs to your place. He continued to stay silent as he unlocked your apartment door, opening it hastily as he braced himself to walk into your place. He shuttered uncomfortably as he stepped inside.

“Can you tell me why we’re here now?” You insisted, shutting the door loudly behind you and locking it. You were still feeling kind of uneasy, and needed to reassurance of a locked door if someone happened to come look for you here.

“Get your things. Everything you need.” He crossed his arms, a look of authority overcoming him. You realized now that he was dressed down- wearing only a t-shirt and jeans. His arms looked stunning in the cut off sleeves, the nicely displayed muscles in plain view.

“Why… why do I need my things?”

“Because, you’ve lost your privileges to privacy. Since you want to act out, you no longer have your own place. Take everything you need and say goodbye, because we’re not coming back here again.” He had raised his voice quite loudly, his arms uncrossed and at his sides. He had gotten closer to you as he spoke, now only a foot or so away from you.

“Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I am trying to protect you. Do you not care at all about your own life, or your families? You are being incredibly selfish, you know that. You have an amazing family that loves you, millions of people around the country that adore you. If something happened to you, the world would be devastated, and yet you are so reckless with your life? It’s… I truly don’t get it, (Y/N).”

You stood in awe, unsure of what to say to him. You felt like a thousand pound weight just dropped on your chest. No one had ever spoken to you like that before, especially not someone who was hired to protect you. You stepped away from him, stumbling over your steps as you rested yourself against the wall.

“What… what about you?” You muttered, looking up at him. “You want to talk about recklessness with life? You don’t know me, or care about me at all, and you’re here ready and willing to die to protect me. Don’t you think that’s a little fucked up? Or, what is it, Hotch? Do you have a hero complex?” You cocked your head at him, grinning. Your moment of sadness had passed, and now you were pissed. Nobody talked to you that way. And now you wanted to piss him off.

“No, you’ve got me all wrong sweetheart,” he chuckled, walking closer and closer to you until he was inches away and you were completely backed against the wall. He moved his arms to the base of his shirt and ripped it over his head, revealing an unsurprisingly ripped body. He had multiple scars across his chest and abdomen.

“I’ve been in and out of foster homes my whole life. Switched schools constantly so I never had many friends. Went right into the Marines after high school and kept to myself for the most part there, too. I have no one, (Y/N). If I die, nobody would blink an eye. If you die, the whole country would shut down. Do you see these?” He pointed to his scars, touching them gently as if taking a moment to remember each one. “I’ve taken bullets for many before, and I’ll do it for you if I have to, Honey. That’s why I do this. I’m not reckless with my life. I have no one, no life outside of this. I can give up that to protect someone like you.”

His hand was resting on the wall behind your head, his body towering over you. He was breathing heavy, trying to relax himself.

“That is so…” you took a deep breath, bringing your hand up to his flesh and tracing your fingers over his scars. You gently circled the rough skin, watching him look down in confusion as you touched him. “Incredibly sad.” You looked up at him, meeting his eyes as your hand still pressed against his bare chest. “I’m so sorry nobody has made your life feel worth it. You don’t deserve that,” you whispered, your face only inches from his. You realized now the vanilla scent that rolled so deliciously off of him was his cologne, because it was much stronger as you got closer to the base of his neck.

“We need to get out of here. Get you home.” He muttered, turning away from you harshly, and looking around to find his shirt.

“I’m… I didn’t mean to upset you, Hotch.”

“It’s Aaron,” he barked, his eyes filled with fury as he scrambled around for his missing clothes.

“Why don’t we just get my things tomorrow? I promise I’ll stay in the rest of the night.”

“You won’t have the chance to sneak out again, I can promise you that.” He said sternly, putting his shirt on quickly and heading for the door. You followed quietly behind him, your head racing and your body flushing from being so close to him just moments ago. He ushered you into the car quickly and slammed the door behind you. His energy had changed so dramatically from moments ago, but you were still feeling so drawn to him.

You remembered the way his bare skin felt to your touch. Even one small brush on your fingertips against his flesh made him melt, as if he couldn’t remember the last time somebody had touched him with such pure intentions.

He was driving quite recklessly back to the big house, not saying a word as you stared silently ahead, replaying the moment over and over in your head. You wanted to say something, trying to come up with the right words to handle this situation. But your brain came up empty, and you continued to stay silent the rest of the drive home.

Hotch parked the car in the garage, sitting back in his seat for a moment as if he wanted to get something off his chest before going in. “You’re lucky I didn’t tell anyone you’d snuck out. I’ll cover for you this time, but don’t count on it if it happens again.”

“I’m sorry I made you come get me,” you whispered, fully realizing how dumb and selfish your actions were. He was right, you were reckless with your life. But you’d never really cared about it, or even thought about it, until now.

“That was, um,” he shifted, clearing his throat. “That was unprofessional of me to talk to you that way. I apologize.”

“No… I… you were right. I kind of needed to hear it. And, again, I’m sorry that you feel the way you do.” You slowly reached your hand out and grabbed onto his, your delicate hand resting gracefully amongst his strong, tired ones. It was almost comical, the difference in the sizes.

Your fingers intertwined in his, your palms meeting as you sat silently in the car. You looked up at him, his eyes staring deeply at your hand in his. His thumb grazed gently over your skin, his silent way of acknowledging your touch. You knew, in that moment, that your feelings towards each other were the same. There was an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, despite every element working against a relationship. And you both knew that. It could never work, and nothing could ever happen.

He tore his hand away with haste and looked out the window, refusing to verbally acknowledge the moment you just shared. One of many moments you had shared since you met.

“You need to get inside before anyone else realizes you’re gone. Cooper is inside the door. I’ll see you in the morning.” He refused to look at you, his body backed up into the door as far away as he could get himself. You nodded silently and opened your door, getting out onto the concrete and beginning to walk to the door. You turned back to look at him, and he was watching you, as always.

“I want to make sure you get in safe,” he muttered through the cracked window of his car door.

“Thank you, Hotch.” You smiled at him, and were hoping to catch a grin from him, too. But he didn’t seem like the type of man to smile very often, and this definitely wasn’t the right moment. He continued to watch you until you got in the door, an angry Cooper ready to lecture you as he walked you back to your room. You did your best to ignore his taunts, your mind still on Hotch.

You fell asleep quickly after you got back to your room, your body craving the healing powers of sleep. Your dreams were fluttered with thoughts of him, his touch. You could not even escape him in your solitude, your soul, your subconscious, was so encapsaleted by him. They would not let you forget him, even if your slumber.

You finally woke up around eleven the next morning, confused and dehydrated, your head throbbing. You clearly had a wicked hangover, and were still feeling pretty laggy from the drugs the night before. You crawled slowly out of bed and into your connecting bathroom, sticking your head under the sink and slurping down faucet water like a child on a hot summer day. The cool taste felt refreshing on your throat, but the minute it hit your throat you felt nauseous. You clipped your hair back so it was away from your face, which was still rocking last night's makeup. You finally opened the door of your room to a different man, one you hadn’t recognized.

Seeing a stranger made you startled, especially standing right outside of your room. You instinctively wanted to call for Hotch, pleading for him to come sweep you off your feet and save you. But, there was nothing to save you from, as this man was just the third shift night guard. He confirmed that when he muttered, “Honey has left her room. Send in A3.”

You waited for him to greet you, say anything at all, but he stood silent and waited for him commanding guard to relieve of him his duties. You started to walk towards the kitchen, the nausea you were facing earlier now turned to hunger. You were stopped by his arm, blocking you from going any further.

“You have to wait until he gets here, Miss.”

“Right, sorry.” He had already turned away, you weren’t even sure if he had heard your apology. You didn’t know how long you’d have to wait until Hotch came and released you from your prison cell, so you scrolled through instagram in annoyance as you waited.

“Good morning, it’s wonderful of you to join the living. Long night last night?” Hotch was smirking at you, a look of contempt as he clearly saw the misery of the previous night sweating right out of you. His mood clearly changed to despising you, again. And if that’s how he wanted to play things this morning, you were happy to play right along with him.

“Not all of us have no life at all, Aaron. Sometimes people, ya know, do things.” You rolled your eyes as you walked passed him quickly, trying to get down to the kitchen before all the food was gone.

“Not all of us have death threats hanging over our heads, either,” he snapped back, his voice sharp and stern. “Where are you going, (Y/N)?”

“Breakfast. I’m hungry,” you shrugged, continuing to walk fast and not get too close to him. Everything felt so hot and cold, you honestly had no idea what he was feeling. The times where you were close, where you felt him, it was so genuine. You knew there was a chemistry between you. But his anger towards you also felt so real. If he was somehow faking, if it was an act or a defense mechanism for his true feelings, he was doing an incredible job.

“All the food is gone. They won’t be back till lunch in another hour.” His smirk came back, as if he was excited by the idea that you now couldn’t eat. “We could go get food, though. If you’d like. If you can’t wait.”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea actually. There’s a little diner right near my place that has the best chocolate chip pancakes I have ever had.” Your thoughts were racing, the idea of delicious food filling your brain. You did that, sometimes, just lost yourself in your thoughts or an idea. You caught him smiling, maybe at you, maybe at just a passing thought. But the feeling of him watching you, seeing your beauty, and smiling. It made your heart race.

“Let’s get to the car, we don’t wanna be gone too long. You’ve got a lot to prepare for your trip coming up.” Hotch motioned towards the stairs, and you remembered the current state of your wardrobe and stopped in your tracks.

“I can’t go looking like this… I mean, this is bad,” you laughed, pointing at your messy hair and smudged mascara.

“Maybe nobody will recognize you if you look that… well…” he chuckled, raising a brow as he looked you up and down.

“Well that’s a little rude.” You both laughed together until silence ultimately fell on the room. You felt like there was more to be said, but you weren’t sure what. You stood still, waiting for some instruction on what to do next. Why was it that you could never figure out what to do with yourself in situations like this?

“I think you look beautiful,” he observed, a slight comical tone to his voice. But the way he looked at you, the way he said it, for a slight moment, it felt real. His words felt real. And you would lose yourself in the chaos of it all if you had to spend every day decoding his words, trying to figure out what is real, what is truly him, and what is a facade. You couldn’t fall for him, you couldn't put yourself through that. But each moment with him drew you in more and more, you almost felt that you would be unable to escape him if things went any further, if the small flirtatious comments and slight forbidden touches when you were alone.

“Let’s get to the car, go get you something to eat,” he instructed, beginning to walk away. You followed him close behind, not sure why you craved the security of him so much. It was his job, but he really did make you feel safe. You followed him down the garage silently, and hoped into the passenger seat of his SUV.

“Where are we going?” He asked, trying to program the address into the GPS. He looked up at you for an answer, his eyes wide and childlike, the simple act of asking you for assistance making you melt.

“Uh, Ruby Street Diner,” you stuttered, watching his hands diligently as he typed in the address. He turned on the radio and started driving, and you stared eagerly out the window as you drove. You weren’t sure, but you could’ve sworn you heard him humming with the music. It was those little things that reminded you he was still human, and that was the last thing he was supposed to do. The more human he became, the more he showed you of himself, the harder it would be for you to walk away.

The drive was silent, but you didn’t mind it. It didn’t feel awkward. Neither of you had anything to say, and sometimes that’s okay. You watched him out of the corner of his eye, watching his face, the way he studied the world around him. Sometimes it seemed like he saw everything, like he saw you watching him. If he knew, he didn’t care. He would glance over at you ever minute or so, maybe to just check if you’re still safe, still breathing. Maybe because he, too, was wondering how he could walk away from you.

He parked his car on the street across from the diner, and checked his pockets and gun before turning the car off. He looked around him, checking for anything suspicious and out of the ordinary. He clearly didn’t see anything to worry him much, because he opened the door quickly after and got out of the car. He walked to your side and opened your door, checking for oncoming cars as he did so. You were used to people opening doors for you, but something about him holding it open and grabbing your hand as you stepped out of the large truck was hot.

You walked into the diner and were quickly seated at a small booth in the corner, per his request. It was never a good idea to be in the center of the scene, he said. You nodded in understanding, looking around at the crowd, which wasn’t anything to be worried about. The scene at a diner at noon on a Thursday was never very eventful.

“Thanks for taking me out,” you whispered, your eyes lazily scrolling over the menu even though you already had your heart set on those chocolate chip pancakes.

“It’s my number one duty to make sure you are safe and satisfied.”

“Satisfied? I don’t feel like that’s really a part of your job description.”

“Of course it is. If you’re unhappy, angry, sad- you’re more likely to rebel, lash out, sneak out.” He chuckled softly, taking a sip of the hot coffee the waitress just poured for you both. You ordered your food, and Hotch ordered some wheat toast and a fruit bowl. You rolled your eyes at his order, knowing you were about to stuff your face.

“So, are you saying the only reason I go to party is because I’m unhappy?”

“I don’t want to make any assumptions about your life. It’s just, in my experience, people turn to that life if they aren’t satisfied with their normal existence.”

“Is anybody happy with their normal existence?” You questioned, sighing loudly as you sat back in the booth. He watched you for a moment, his eyes paying special attention to your rising chest as you started breathing heavily. He set his arm down on the table, laying his palm out as he looked up at you.

You stared at his exposed hand, a sudden remembering of your fingers intertwined in his car last night. He needed your touch, then. He needed a pull back to humanity, a remembrance that nobody is truly alone in this life. And now, you needed it. You needed somebody to hold your hand. And he knew.

You reluctantly placed your arm down on the table, looking around at the people in the place. No one was even paying the slightest attention to you. A rare moment where nobody cared who you were, or what you were doing. Your fingers moved towards his, and you grabbed on to him slowly. It was a slight touch, nothing that would be noticeable to anybody passing by. But it was enough for both of you. It was enough to mean something.

“I would like to think that everybody has a chance to be happy. It’s just a matter of finding your happiness.” His fingers moved closer to yours, his thumb slightly rubbing your fingers. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, his illicit touch sending sparks through your whole body.

“Alright, you guys ready to eat?” Your waitress cheerily interrupted, causing you to both instinctively rip your hands away and put them at your sides. It didn’t appear that she noticed anything but your heart was still racing and you could tell his was, too.

You ate your food quickly, avoiding eye contact with him as he nibbled on pieces of toast. You only seemed to have two types of moments with him; ones where neither of you could think of any words, or ones where words flowed out of you like a poet. You felt like you could tell him anything, but at the same time you were afraid to say anything.

“I think we should go,” he quietly muttered after you had finally finished a majority of your food.

“Um.. is everything okay?”

“This… this is really bad, Honey. What is happening now. It cannot be happening. I apologize for any inappropriate actions I’ve made since we’ve met. I would offer to step down and let someone else take this roll but I spent weeks training on how to protect you, and I don’t think you’d be safe with anyone else. I hope that’s okay with you.”

You stared at him in awe, a sick feeling overcoming your stomach. You shook your head for a moment, trying to think of the right words to respond with. He was right, this was stupid, and an extremely self destructive act. Besides, nothing had even really happened, and it was probably way better to shut things down now before it went any further. So much of you didn’t want it to end, didn’t want to not know what a life with him could be like. But you thought about your family, your life, and knew it wasn’t smart, or safe.

“You’re right, um, yeah. That's okay. I think it’s smart to keep you on, especially with the trip coming up.”

He nodded in agreeal, pushing his food away in disgust. You wondered if he felt just as sick as you did, just as heartbroken and miserable as you were. You knew one thing, for sure. That he was just as lonely and disappointed in life as you were. He was living in the same boat you were, and maybe that’s why you connected so easily. Sharing a common pain, it was easy to feel drawn to him. But you had to draw the line, as terrible as it was.

“Let’s go back home.”

The next few weeks went by uneventfully. There was nothing new to report on Hotch, or Aaron, as he now insisted you called him. There were no passing glances, no secret touches. You had both controlled yourself, and it was much easier than you thought. You were starting to wonder if the attraction was all circumstance, and there was nothing of real sustenance to your ‘relationship’. His touch still existed in your dreams, though. That was one place where you couldn’t control your thoughts. Every morning when you woke up, the thought of you in his dreams made you wonder.

Today was the day you finally left your trip, and you were flying out to San Francisco now. You sat eagerly in the airport, a crowd of men surrounding you, Aaron sitting at your side. He would accompany you in first class, and the rest of your night guards would scatter around coach to keep an eye on anyone suspicious. You had your headphones in, trying to distract yourself from the upcoming flight. You were quite a nervous flyer, and you were feeling exceptionally overwhelmed today. You couldn’t wait to get seated and have a drink, something to calm your nerves.

You were leaving pretty late, and would arrive pretty late as well. When you got in, you were all going straight to the hotel and preparing for your first presentation tomorrow. You boarded quickly, being one of the first allowed to get on the plane. Aaron held on to your carry on bags, and his, and followed you into the cabin. The rest of your guards stayed behind until it was their turn to board. Luckily, nobody had seemed to notice or recognize you on the flight, yet. You were hoping it would stay that way, as you were utterly exhausted and weren’t in the mood for small talk with a stranger today.

“You all buckled in?” Aaron asked as he placed your bags in the overhead storage bin.

“Yep, all safe and secure officer,” you giggled, leaning your head back in the large seat.

“Sounds good,” he smiled, taking his seat next to you and buckling himself in. You sat and scrolled through your phone mindlessly as the rest of the plane boarded, watching your night guards pass you by and give Aaron a slight thumbs up when they passed each other. You faked your way through listening to the emergency instructions, pleasing Aaron as he urged you to pay attention. The plane finally started moving and you settled into your seat, your nails digging into your palms as you prepared for the ascent.

Going up was always terrifying, but what you weren’t expecting was the turbulence as you headed into the sky. There was a storm coming in, and the pilot mentioned it might be bumpy until you get high enough. The shakiness was torture, but an unexpected drop in altitude made you jump and latch onto Hotch’s hand in instinct. Your fingers were locked with his, squeezing tight as the plane leveled out and you caught your breath.

“Sorry about that, folks,” the pilot spoke over the intercom, his voice light and cheery as if nothing just happened. “Should be clearing out of this storm in a minute or so. Keep buckled.”

You looked over to him, your hand still clutched in his, your heart finally coming to a normal rhythm. He was staring down at your hands, the remembrance of your touch sending him somewhere he was desperately avoiding.

“I’m… it was an accident, Aaron. I’m sorry,” you mumbled, trying to pull your hand from his, but his grip was locked around you.

“Nervous flyer?” He joked.

“Yes. I hate it.”

“I fly all the time,” he assured, your hand still in his. “You know you’re more likely to die in a car than a plane?”

“I’m not so much nervous about dying as I am getting stranded on an island like Lost.”

“Weren’t they all dead in the end, anyways?”

“I never got that far, but that still doesn’t sound ideal. The whole point of death is to not have to deal with life anymore.”

Your hands were still linked together, his thumb now tracing circles on the back of your hand. His leg moved closer to you until you were touching, the closest you two could possibly get while sitting in a plane. It was in that moment that you realized whatever you had been trying to avoid with him was no longer unavoidable. You had reached a new level of intimacy, a door was opened that could not be closed.

“Aaron…”

“I don’t like that. I like Hotch,” he teased, his eyes twinkling as they met the dim overhead lights of the plane.

“Hotch… are you sure you want to keep touching me?”

His eyes widened at your voice, and he instinctively ripped away his hand and pulled his leg from you. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather a thought.

“Do you want a drink?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

“I can’t, I’m working.” He turned forward and looked at the stared at the screen on the back of the seat. You decided not to say anymore, clearly realizing the moment had passed and there was nothing left to be said.

A flight attendant came by shortly after and you finally got your well deserved drink. Hotch stayed silent, watching you sip the forbidden liquid and get slightly more calm with every sip. You had two more before finally falling asleep, the exhaustion of anxiety taking over. You woke up when you felt your ears pop as the plane began descending. You bolted up with alarm, Hotch watching you quietly. You couldn’t remember if he looked over at you after you woke up, or if he had been watching while you slept.

“We’ll be landing soon.”

“Can I have some gum?” You motioned to your ears, cringing in pain. Hotch handed you a stick of mint gum from his bag, which you chewed happily as you watched your descent into the night. The lights from the city were beautiful, and you felt extremely happy to be back doing what you love, in one of your favorite cities. You had always wanted to move here, but your father would’ve had a heart attack if you weren’t within 20 minutes of him.

The plane landed on the ground with a jolt, shaking you awake. You looked to Hotch, who was already turning his phone on to inform your family that you had landed safely. He spoke swiftly to your dad, assuring him that he would let him know when we arrived at the hotel. You watched his every move, the way his lips moved with such assurity at every word he spoke. He knew you, everything about you, truly. He was the one person in the world that was 100% dedicated to you. He would die for you. Holy shit. Maybe you had a bit too much to drink.

“You ready to go?”

“Uh, yeah, let’s.” You stood up quickly, without paying attention, and slammed your head right on the overhead. “Shit,” you groaned, holding on to your forehead in pain.

“Oh man,” Hotch mumbled, grabbing your waist and pulling you close to him. He reached his hand to your forehead and ran his thumb over the bump. He moved his hand down to your cheek, and looked down into your eyes.

“It’s a little red, but I think you’ll be okay,” he whispered, his lips dangerously close to yours.

“That’s good,” you mumbled, the tip of your nose brushing against his. You had placed your hand to his chest, playing with the buttons on the hem of his shirt.

He pulled away from you suddenly, shaking his head and taking a breath. He opened up the overhead and pulled out the bags, not looking at you once again. You felt your legs shaking, your heart beating, and your center throbbing at the thought of his lips. It took all of your strength to not pull him back to you and kiss him. But you couldn’t, not here, anyway.

You followed Hotch off the plane and stood at the gate for the rest of your men. Hotch didn’t say a word to you, only waited in authority for his men to meet him. He was their leader, they did everything he said. Watching him boss them around was kind of sexy, and you felt your body aching more and more for him. Finally the rest of your team came out and met up with you.

“I want you guys to wait for Honey’s bags then meet us back at the hotel. There will be cars waiting. I want her out of here as fast as possible, so we’re leaving now. Are we clear?” He nodded at them in clarification, and they all nodded back in agreement. They began walking towards baggage claim, and you followed Hotch the opposite direction.

“Where are we going?”

“Secret exit, there’s a car waiting for us there.” He walked steadily at your side, weaving through crowds and shielding you from oncoming people. A few people glanced to your direction with curiosity, most likely thinking “I know that girl from somewhere.” But Hotch rushed you out too quickly for anyone to fully remember you. You passed behind a guarded door, Hotch flashing his badge to the guards as they nodded at him and opened doors. You were rushed down a flight of stairs and out a back door, into the California night air. And as Hotch said, a black SUV with a driver you didn’t recognize was waiting for you.

“Who’s that?”

“One of my old men,Derek, a good friend. It’s not safe for me to be driving here. We're in good hands with him, though.”

Derek rolled down the window and greeted Hotch, a large smile of the man's face. “Nice to meet you, Miss. (Y/N). Welcome to my ride,” he laughed. Hotch opened the door for you and you stepped in the back, him following close behind. Derek started the car and began driving, flashing Hotch’s badge as you went through various gates to get back on the road. The partition was up in the car, blocking Derek’s eyes and ears from you and Hotch. You weren’t sure why he had it up, as most of your drivers usually leave it down until asked. Maybe he just assumed you would be having a confidential conversation or something, right?

“Thanks for getting me out safe, Hotch,” you teased, placing your hand playfully on his shoulder.

“Of course, Honey.” He turned towards you, his head tilted as he looked down to you. He rested his hand on your thigh, his thumb teasing your exposed flesh. You shivered at his touch, his hands cold against the warmth of your inner thigh. His fingers continued to trail up your flesh, toying with you as they moved slowly to where you craved him most. You moved your hips awkwardly, trying to get closer to him, trying to get him closer to you.

He started to play with the hem of your underwear, his thumb grabbing onto the fabric and brushing against your flesh. His other fingers slowly began to touch you, moving rhythmically over your clit. You sighed in relief, finally getting the much needed pleasure. You wanted more, you would’ve straddled him right then and there. But he quickly took his hand away, leaving you defeated and unsatisfied. You turned to him with a frown, only to find a smug grin plastered on his face.

“Later, Honey.” He whispered, his eyes locked on yours. You nodded, excitement overtaking you as you thought of what could happen next. You turned back forward and straightened yourself out, trying to catch your breath.

The rest of the drive was torture, craving someone so close. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold yourself together. Right as you were starting to convince yourself to just kiss him, you finally pulled up to the hotel. Derek parked in the entrance and got out of the car to open your door. He opened Hotch’s side, first, and shook his hand as he exited the car. You got out after him, declining for him to walk around and open your door, as well. Hotch had already grabbed the few bags you did have and was holding on to them tightly. You thanked Derek for driving you and assured him you would see him tomorrow. Hotch and him said their goodbyes, and then you followed him into the lobby of the hotel. You stayed behind as he checked you in, not trying to look too conspicuous.

Hotch walked back over to you and flashed the room keys. “Let’s get to your room, get you settled.”

You followed him to the elevator, which was an awkwardly silent ride. You rode up to the top floor, where the Presidential suite was, no doubt. Your father always insisted you had the nicest room in the place. It was a bit much, in your opinion, but it wasn’t worth arguing with him about things like that. The elevator finally came to a halt and opened its doors. Hotch left first and you followed him down the hall to one of the suites.

“Alright, here you go,” he said, handing you your key and dropping your bags to the floor.

“Uh, are you leaving me?” You questioned, your eyes wide with confusion.

“Relax,” he chuckled. “I’m right across the hall. I’m just gonna change, I always feel so gross after a plane. Why don’t you get ready for bed and I’ll check on you in a few minutes?”

“Alright,” you grumbled, disappointed that your night with Aaron was clearly ending here.

You opened the door to your room and brought your bags in, Hotch waiting for your door to close until he went into his own room. You laid down with a huff on the bed, sulking into the covers in frustration. What a fucking tease, you thought. You shook your head in anger and jumped off the bed, willing yourself to relax a bit before tomorrow.

You changed out of your clothes, stripping completely naked and throwing on your silk robe before you got in the shower. You started unpacking your toiletries, placing your obnoxiously expensive hair and skin care in the shower, ready for you to use at your convenience. You searched in frustration for your toothbrush, tossing things around your bags as you looked. You felt like you’d been searching for a half hour when a knock on the door through you from your search.

You stood up uncomfortably, realizing you were almost naked. You looked around for clean clothes, but were worried if you didn’t answer the door immediately one of those big-head guards would knock the door down. You groaned loudly and ran to the door, hoping to god you weren’t too exposed.

Hotch was standing in the doorway, a filthy grin on his face as you opened the door. You backed away from the door and he walked in, closing and locking the door behind him. He walked up to you, his body inches away from yours. He grabbed on to the sash of your robe, pulling at the end so that the loose knot would come undone. The front of the robe spilled open, exposing your nude front. Hotch brought his hands to your shoulders and grabbed onto the robe, pulling it completely off your body.

He brought his hand up to your chest, slowly caressing your breast and toying with your nipple. He ripped his shirt over his head aggressively, and then wrapped his arms around your waist. He pulled your face close to his and kissed you, a much needed kiss full of desperation. His tongue invaded your mouth forcefully, his body taking complete and total control of yours. His lips tasted like scotch, which he clearly drank pretty quickly in his room before coming over. Maybe he needed the courage, or maybe he needed to take the edge off. Either way, the taste made you crave a drink.

You started to push away from the kiss, planning to run to the mini bar and grab a bunch of bottles for the two of you. Hotch just chuckled, grabbed onto your wrist and pushed you on the bed.

“Hotch, I want a drink,” you giggled, trying to evade his grip.

“Not now, Honey. Now you want me,” he ordered, biting his lip as he looked down at you.

“Yes, sir,” you teased, blowing Hotch a kiss. He moved down lower and spread your legs, looking at you with a hunger in his eyes. He spit aggressively on your pussy, and then dragged his tongue across your entirety. He was lapping at your clit sloppily, your body jerking with pleasure as he shoved two fingers inside of you. He started to focus more with the tip of tongue, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm, arching as they went inside to hit your spot.

“Fuck,” you squealed, arching your back as your body was overcome with pleasure.

“Are you gonna cum, sweetheart? Are you gonna cum for me?” He growled, pouting his lips as he looked up at you.

“Yes, keep doing that,” you stuttered. A satisfied smile came over his face, and he went back to eating you out. He focused on your clit, his tongue stimulating it in ways you’d never experienced before. Your body was almost shaking as you finally reached your climax, Hotch licking you up as you finished. You went limp, for a moment, trying to catch your breath from your high.

“Turn around,” he instructed, slapping your thigh.

“I need a sec,” you muttered.

“Now. Turn around, now.” His glare was intimidating, but you could still see a gleam of light in his eyes. The dominance was something you hadn’t experienced yet, but it was turning you on wildly. You nodded at him, getting on your knees and bending over. He slapped your ass with a force, making you yelp with an equal mix of pleasure and pain. You could hear him chuckle behind your back, already feeling your skin raising where he marked you.

You heard him unbuckling his pants, and you’d realized you hadn’t seen his dick yet. You wanted to be surprised, though. You wanted to experience him for the first time inside of you. You felt him placing himself at your entrance, the tip of his dick playing with you. He started to slowly slide in, and you were uncomfortably shocked by his size and girth. You winced as he fit all of himself inside of you, feeling his length overtaking your whole body. He was by far the biggest you’d ever experienced, and you were taking a second to adjust.

“Oh, poor Honey,” he chuckled. “Am I too much for you?”

“No, I can handle it,” you replied in defiance. “Fuck me, Aaron. Fuck me.”

He laughed again, taking your instruction to heart and pounding himself in and out of you, fast. It was too much at first, feeling like he was breaking you. He was so much bigger than you, he could literally overcome you. You felt his presence watching your ass as he fucked you, realizing now how hot it was that he was so big.

“You have such a tight little pussy, I fucking love it,” he moaned, his nails digging into the flesh on your hips. His pumps were getting sloppier, each thrust you could feel his body getting more tense. He was twitching inside of you, and finally you felt his warm release fill you up. He stayed inside you a moment, both of you catching your breath. He pulled himself out and sat on the edge of the bed. You turned around and laid flat, staring breathlessly at the ceiling.

You heard the sound of a phone, and you winced as the comfort of the silence was broken. Hotch stood up, his naked body glowing like a statue in the low light. You took in his body, examined it like a piece of art, remembered every bit. You never wanted to forget him. You didnt think you could.

Hotch grabbed his phone and answered quickly. “What’s going on?... Alright…. Sounds good.” He ended the call and set the phone done on the desk.

“Get dressed, make the bed,” he requested, rather harshly.

“Ugh, cmon Hotch, can I just have a second?” You groaned, flopping to your side in exhaustion.

“Do I need to ask again? Get up, put your clothes on and make the bed. Now!” He barked. He was already searching the ground for his clothes, trying to put himself back together after unraveling with you. You got up and did as you were told, putting your robe back on and searching for pants. You made the bed to the best of the ability, although it wasn't really your strong suit. You shrugged, apologetic as Hotch gave you a disappointed look when he looked at your work.

A knock on the door prevented Hotch from lecturing you on your cleaning skills. He ran to the door and opened it to reveal the rest of your guards. They dropped your bags off in the entryway and shared a few words with Hotch. He turned to you and started to talk.

“First shift will start now. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Of course.”

Hotch grabbed his phone and dialed a number, holding it to his ear. He waited a few seconds before the person on the other end answered.

“It’s me. Honey is secure. I’ll check in in the morning.”

#aaron hotchner #hotchner #hotch #hotch x reader #aaron hotcner x reader #criminal minds

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songtoyou · 4 years

Text

Mr. Evans and the Congresswoman - Part 2

Paring: Chris Evans x Politician Reader

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1,858

Warnings: Political topics such as Biden, Harris, our current White House occupant and the current administration.

Description: It is the week of the DNC and Chris is once again interviewing you for A Starting Point.

A/N: The DNC inspired me to write a second part for this story. This is pure fiction as I do not know what Chris believes when it comes to politics and policy issues. This is a complete work of fiction.

I do not permit my work to be to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Note: Updated for grammar and punctuation edits.

"Hi, Congresswoman Y/L/N?" Chris Evans asked with a smile.

He was once again interviewing you for ASP. This time it was during the week of the Democratic National Convention. Chris and Mark had already talked to other politicians such as Senator Cory Booker and Representatives Ro Khanna and Alma Adams. You were the last elected official he was slated to interview to wrap up the DNC week.

Truthfully, Chris was happy to get the chance to talk with you again. Your previous interview for ASP was such a hit that it garnered a lot of attention from fans and the media. However, it was not because you helped bring more legitimacy and attention for ASP, but instead, Chris found himself genuinely admiring you.

"Hi," you said to Chris, giving a small wave through the Zoom screen. "I told you to call me by my first name."

"I know, but I still want to show respect," Chris responded with a teasing smile. Was he mildly flirting with the congresswoman? Yes, but he had no shame in doing so. "How are you? You are looking well."

"I am doing well. Thank you. How about you?"

"Same. Just trying to stay sane through everything. I'm actually currently in London. Working on a project." Chris admitted.

"Uh oh. You better be staying safe and following the right procedures and protocols," you lightly reprimanded him.

"My fans ratted me out. They found where I was just by the hotel door. Can you believe that? That is some FBI-level investigating, right there. I'd be impressed if I weren't also terrified of the lengths some of these fans will go to scout my location," Chris ranted. He did not understand why he was sharing this with you, but a part of him felt comfortable doing so.

"That…is quite impressive, I must say. Creepy. Scary. But impressive. You need to learn how to put in a Zoom background. It would solve all of your problems," you suggested to him.

"I would, but I'm technology deficient. Maybe I should look up some Zoom tutorials on how to do it. Give it a try."

"There is no try…only do," you advised cheekily.

"Now you're quoting Yoda. A woman after my own heart," Chris replied. He knew he needed to refocus. "So, as you can tell, Mark won't be joining us for this interview. I'm going to hit record if that is okay?"

"Okay. I'm ready when you are," you said.

When the record notification appeared on screen, Chris introduced you and immediately went into the first question.

"How do you think the DNC is going so far, particularly how this year is more of a virtual setting rather than in-person due to COVID-19?"

"Despite not having the big in-person celebration/gathering, I think the virtual setting is working very well. Better than I expected, actually. It gives off a more inclusive and intimate vibe to the DNC that we haven't felt before. I like the whole documentary approach and feel to it," you replied honestly.

"Were you excited that Joe Biden chose Senator Kamala Harris as his running mate?" asked Chris.

"Oh my God! I was so happy that Vice President Biden chose Senator Harris as his running mate. Like, my staff and I were beyond ecstatic. There is no one better to be Biden's running mate than Harris. She is amazing. Such an inspiration. I'm not going to lie, but I'm really excited for the debate between her and Pence."

That made Chris laugh. "Yeah, me too. Senator Harris really knows how to pull all the punches. Her nomination as VP has been met with overall positive response. The Trump Administration and Republican pundits appear to have a hard time painting a negative image of Harris. Why do you think Trump and Fox News are struggling to provide a negative image for her?"

"That is an excellent question. The public's overwhelming response to Harris' nomination is because 1.) she is the first black and south Asian woman to be on a major presidential ticket, and 2.) she is likable and charming. She has this exuberant energy that attracts people to her. You know, black and brown women and girls finally have someone that looks like them running for the second-highest office in the land. That is huge!

"I also have to wonder if people have smartened up in the last four years and won't tolerate the…hypocrisy, sexism, and misogyny…in this case misogynoir that is thrown towards Senator Harris from the media, political pundits, social media bots, etc. So, what we are seeing with Trump and Fox News struggling to attack her is because…well…they just aren't smart. All we have seen from Trump in his attacks against her is that she was mean to Kavanaugh when questioning him during his nomination process. But none of what Trump says holds up because we all know that smart, confident women intimidate him," you finished off your point.

"There is also the left…or more of the progressive left who are unhappy with Biden choosing Harris," Chris spoke up and continued, "They say she is a cop and put people away for weed. That she took kids away from parents when the kid didn't show up for school. That Harris is too conservative. What do you say to that?"

"All of that is…you know…. Senator Harris one of the most policy progressive senators we have. Her voting record is more progressive than Bernie Sanders. All people have to do is research her time as a district attorney and Attorney General for California to find out what she actually did concerning policy. But as we both know, people nowadays don't know how to critically think, which scares me. Progressives need to look at the overall big picture. This election in November is crucial. We are in the fight for our democracy, for our country, and for our lives…literally."

"I talk with my brother, Scott, all the time about certain political issues," mentioned Chris. "He is a tad more progressive than I am. I can admit that I tend to be more centrist. The district you represent is a mix of blue and red areas; how do you balance opposing views from your constituents?"

You took in a deep breath before you answered. That was a loaded question. Representing a district that was not solely red, or blue could be difficult from time to time. You wanted to be respectful of the different viewpoints from constituents, but maintaining a neutral balance was hard and frustrating at times.

"The majority of Americans are centrist/moderates. You need a balance of both liberal and conservative policies. Bipartisanship is crucially important when developing and passing laws. We are currently seeing an overt of one-sidedness while sabotaging the other side, which is detrimental to our country's growth. It is important to reach across the aisle to talk with those who may have opposing views than you. At the end of the day, people just want to feel that their concerns are heard and valued. We all want to feel that way. So, as an elected official, I make sure to take the time to talk with those in rural areas, along with urban areas, about their issues and concerns," you shared.

"Do you ever get any pushback from Trump supporters in the red areas?" Chris inquired.

"Well, it is important to note that not all residents in rural areas are Trump supporters. They just tend to keep that to themselves. I have actually talked to Trump supporters in blue areas. We can never and should never assume that one area has this type of person and vice versa. I learned that the hard way when I was campaigning for city council early in my career," you revealed to Chris with a small chuckle. "But overall, my constituents will talk with me and have been respectful. Some of the concerns that have been shared with me do fall under the QAnon conspiracy theories, which do disturb me, I'll be honest. Um…when being confronted with someone who has that extreme of ideals, it is important to remain calm and not to come off combative. Meaning that I have to remind myself that I am not quite dealing with a rational person. The only thing that I can do is calmly talk to the person and respond back with facts. Either they listen or brush me off and call me a radical lefty."

"The majority of people are good, like you said," Chris reminded you.

"That's right. It's a good mantra to live by. I think the American people are tired and have been tired for the past four years with this Administration. We need a sense of normalcy and decency. Compassion and empathy, which were two of the big themes during the DNC. This week was a nice reminder that we, as a country, can have that again."

"I agree. Very well said. You always end on a positive. I appreciate that. Thank you, Congresswoman Y/L/N, for taking the time to talk with me. You always provide great insight into the world of politics and your experience as an elected official," said Chris and ended the recording. "That was really great, Y/N. I know Mark, and I really appreciate you taken the time to do these interviews for ASP," Chris added.

"Oh, it is no problem. Like I said before, I like what you both are doing with the site. Are you happy with how everything turned out?" you asked him.

"Yeah… it's…it took a while to just get the website up and running. I know there is still work that needs to be done. Some areas need to be fixed, but with a project like this, we can adjust. There is more room for improvement and growth," Chris communicated to you.

You nodded in agreement. "Politics is a whole different ballgame. Not many people are willing to venture into the field. It can cause a lot of annoyances and headaches. So, hats off to you, my friend," you said, giving Chris a salute.

"Thank you. Well, I better let you go. I know you must have a million things on your plate."

"Ah yes, I have to go and save the United States Postal Service from corruption. Talk to you later, Chris. Take care," you waved goodbye and signed off.

Chris had to admit, he was in awe of you. There was something about you that fascinated him. None of the elected officials he and Mark talked to for ASP had the liveliness you had. You were not jaded or defeated by the system, at least not yet, since you were still considered a junior member of congress. Chris hoped that the energy and enthusiasm you had for politics and helping people would not diminish. When his Uncle Mike was still a congressman, he shared with Chris that D.C. can cause a lot of strain on a person's values and beliefs. "I have seen too many of my colleagues succumb to the pressures of dirty politics," Uncle Mike once said.

Chris just hoped that you would not succumb to those pressures.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you

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a-method-in-it · 4 years

Text

I Say This With Love

It’s April 10, 2020, and I really do honestly and truly say this with love. Because I do genuinely love all of the young radical people on here. Depending who you talk to, I also am kind of a young radical, though by tumblr standards I am An Old. And you guys are great, you really are. But I need you to hear this.

You need to stop pinning your hopes on Bernie Sanders.

I like Bernie a lot. He was not my first choice in this primary, but he was absolutely my second. The fact that he lost to my second least favorite of the legitimate candidates (Marianne Williamson and Andrew Yang are not legit, don’t @ me) makes me really tired. I’m old enough to remember the time the Democrats nominated John Kerry to take on Dubya and look where that got us. I was looking forward to voting for Bernie in the primary -- and in fact I still will to help him shore up his influence going into the DNC -- and the last few days were not fun for me either.

But it’s time to face facts. And the facts are these:

First, Bernie has dropped out. In this context, “suspending his campaign” means he is dropping out. It’s a way of dropping out that allows his name to remain on the ballot in whatever states already have his name on the ballot, but it means he’s dropped out. You can and should still vote for him to give him more political influence before the convention, but he will not be the nominee. That is the reality. It sucks. It is still the reality.

Second, harm reduction matters. That thing I mentioned above, about Kerry going up against Bush 43? Yeah, for those of you too young to remember 2004, Kerry couldn’t turn out the base and he lost. And do you know what happened in the next four years? Here is a short list:

Bush tried to privatize Social Security. Actually genuinely had a bill introduced into Congress that he planned on signing.

He completely bungled the response to Hurricane Katrina, screwing over thousands of people, most of them black and low income

We added 21,000 troops in Iraq

Private contractors working for escaped hell demon Eric Prince, who Bush paid $1 billion in military contractor money to run around in Iraq playing soldier, opened fire into a crowd of Iraqi civilians in Baghdad, killing 17 innocent people

John Roberts was nominated and confirmed as Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court, where his ass still sits, fucking us over to this day.

Bush vetoed funding for stem cell research.

He continued to deny that global warming was real, running out four more years on humanity’s clock.

And -- oh yeah! -- the whole goddamn economy crashed.

I really don’t care how little you like Joe Biden. I also do not like Joe Biden. But I promise you, however frustrating it would be to see him elected president, that is nothing -- nothing -- to what it would be like to go through four more years of Donald Trump. And if you disagree, please read any newspaper.

Third, and this is the big one:

You need to stop pinning your hopes on a single candidate. That’s not how change happens. That’s not how movements happen.

Politicians do not save us. Not even politicians we like. Not even politicians we agree with. Not even politicians who inspire us and care about us and try to do right by us. No, that’s not how it works. We save ourselves.

So if you’re pissed off right now, then go unionize your workplace (advice for that here); join your local DSA; donate to Black Lives Matter or Planned Parenthood or the ACLU or Greenpeace or NARF or any one of the dozens of other organizations fighting the good fight; volunteer at an abortion clinic or homeless shelter or domestic violence shelter or food bank or conservation group or with anyone else doing good work in your neighborhood; sew face masks for your neighbors; join -- or start! -- a community garden or urban agriculture group; volunteer for a state or local politician with a good platform that you do believe in; sign up to register voters in your area; start calling your congress people every day; and for gods’ sake, vote blue in November.

To everyone who skimmed over that list because you think I’m full of shit and it was too long -- go back and read it because the fact that it’s long is my whole fucking point.

We need to save ourselves. And that starts with -- big sigh -- electing Joseph Robinette Biden (gods even his name is stupid).

It just doesn’t end there. Honestly, if you want a movement to reshape the country, trying to just elect a person as president is objectively the least effective way to go about that. It’s trying to cut to the end. It’s building your roof before you’ve laid your foundation. It’s backwards.

So pick yourselves up, brush off the dirt, patch up your bruises, and go build some foundations.

I meant it when I said I love you guys. I believe you can do this, that we can do this. Please don’t prove me wrong.

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cucullas · 4 years

Text

Mudarra González: a mixed medieval hero

I’m apparently doing a series on Spanish Romances (Spain medieval and renaissance anonymous folk ballads), usually my favorites ones are about love, family or everyday life. I’m not very much into the epics of killing infidels, El Cid and The Song of Roland got it covered. That’s why I initially was not attracted to the Song of the Seven Princes of Lara.

I was so so SO wrong. This story has it all, petty family squabbles, completly disproportinionate reaction and my mixed bastard main boy: Mudarra Gonzalez. On the realm of medieval fiction where the main concern is how many infidels The Heroic Christian Knight can kill, Mudarra is a Moor, he is the Heroe That Was Promised and he is out for revenge.

The petty story: family drama and no Mudarra yet

Before I start a little bit of story, as you might know the Iberian Peninsula, was partially controlled by Arab and Berber Muslims rulers. From mighty cultured caliphates to dying city-kingdoms, this period called Al-Andalus went from 700 to 1492. During this time Christian kingdoms of Spain had to live with their Muslim neighbours and very often enemies.

In these context our story starts, a Christian Knight, Gonzalo Gustios is the ruler of Salas, he is vasall of the Count Garcia Fernandes and is marries to Doña Sancha. He had a good life and is a not getting any younger but that’s ok cause he got 7 valiant sons to suceed him. They all have names of prowesses... but that’s not that important cause they all die.

Yeah, because you see they had a fight with their aunt Doña Lambra (wife of their mom’s brother Rodrigo de Lara): honor was insulted... A pepper filled with blood was trown and someone menaced to cut a skirt above the knee and those are clearly irreparables offenses so Gonzalo Gonzalez the younger Prince killed a man over the pepper and Doña Lambra promised to revenge.

Rodrigo, Doña Lambra husband them betrayed his nephews giving the enemy information about their battle plans. They all die. His father is captured but pardoned by Almanzor. While in captivity Gonzalo is asked to recognize the heads of some important Christian the Moor army just killed... its of course his 7 kids and he mad with grief. Long story short he sleeps with Almanzor sister, she gets pregnant, he is later release and goes back to his wife.

All the Spanish medieval gore we deserve

Saddly he is too old for revenge and Doña Lambra is a close family member to the ruling Count. In many version Gonzalo is later disable and very weak by pain or captivity/war. Who could save us now?

Mudarra, bastard extraordinaire

Now let’s talk about Mudarra the first time we see him he is showed playing chess a stereotypical oriental game and talking with the also Muslim king of Segura. He has a great position in court but when he is insulted as “hijo de nadie/ Nobody son” he decides to go search for his father.

Antonio Tempesta, a Renaissance Italian illsutrator doing his best to represent a Moor medieval armyhe went from pseudo-Turkish clearly (Mudarra taking leave of his mother)

From Mudarra POV it’s like leaving idk Camelot/King’s Landing/a US middle class family to go and meet your dad a disable owner of a rundown farm in a backwards land. But that’s ok, Mudarra does his best is like

“Nice to met you Sir Gonzales, I’m your son”

“I’ve literally never seen this kid. No way it’s mine”

And this fools no one specially not his wife Doña Sancha because A) Mudarra looks exactly like Gonzalo Gonzalez his late bro and B) In some version Gonzalo Gustios actually gave Mudarra mother a ring.

Gustios is afraid his wife will be mad but Doña Sancha is no mad at all. Specially when Mudarra promise to avenge his late older brothers. She acts as the coolest step-mom and they even do a ceremony so Mudarra becomes his father legitimate heir.

Personally I like Mudarra a lot, he is much more measured that his brothers: he takes time to explain he is without getting mad, ask for justice to the Count (in some version) and is even courteous to his enemy. I bet he wouldn’t kill an unharmed servant over a pepper but that’s speculation on my part.

Yes, he also has a manly revenge speech at the end:

“Tú los vendistes, traidor, en el val de Araviana / mas, si Dios a mí me ayuda, aquí dejarás el alma / vengare a mis hermanos, los siete infantes de Lara [...] Morirás aquí traidor / a las maños de Mudarra”

“You sold them you traitor, in the Araviana valley / with God’s help here you will lay your soul / I will avenge my brothers, the Seven Princes of Lara. [...] You die here traitor, at the hands of Mudarra”

Then of he goes to kill Rodrigo de Lara. He suceeds, because he is our hero but also because Rodrigo won’t be able to pact with the Moors like he did the 1st time because they won’t risk getting into Mudarra and Almanzor bad side. Doña Lambra in some version is burnt but in most “her punishement was left to God” because as we said she was family with the count.

After the revenge we don’t know a lot about Mudarra which is a shame. He is said to have been an excellent knight though.

A place said to be the tomb of Mudarra with 0 reasons, it’s pretty too

Mudarra, raised as a Moor is our triumphant here, and it was not done only for the exoticism value, him being a Royal Moor is a big deal. Here is why.

A Royal Bastard

Gonzalo Gustias leaving to go back to his land is not seem as an offense to Almanzor sister (called Aisha sometimes, she is a fictional character). She doesn’t seem to have problems with it and Mudarra growns up on King Almanzor court as his heir, he knights him and give his squires to serve him.

But you might ask who is Almanzor? Is he fictional? Well, no, he is no King but he absolutely existed.

Bust of Almanzor in the Castillan city of Catalañazor were Spanish say he suffer a great defeat by Christian troops... it’s probably not true.

He is The big deal. His name is Abu Amir Muhammad but the is nicknames Al Mansur, the Victorious. You see at the time from 950 to 1000 the main kingdom of the are is the Caliphate of Cordoba, the King is Hisam II but his minister and de facto ruler is Almanzor. An incredible capable military leader and politician.

Almanzor embodies the mighty caliphate of Cordoba. Almanzor with an inteligent politic of alliances and a lot of Berber mercenaries he kept the peace and prosterity of the caliphate of Cordoba. Almanzor will have two son, after their rule the Caliphate desintegrate in taifas, he is also the embodiement of the a glorious period. A high king.

A king more important than Count Garcia Fernandes, the Christian ruler of this story. In other countries Roland is the nephew of Charlemagne. The French lineage of Lusignan descend from a fae and everyone descends from Alexander the Great. But in this Castille the best thing we have is Almanzor, descending from a King gives Mudarra the power of an army his father doesnt have and also a symbolic power to change stablishment.

Roof of the former mosque now Catedral of Cordoba

Oh and also I have this theory that Almanzor life could have also inspired the story, mostly his second son who was also the de facto ruler: Abd al-Raḥmān called ibn Sanchul or Sanchuelo this nickname came because he apparently really looked like his granpa...the King of Plamplona Sancho Garces II. Almanzor attacked his kingdom and as the Christian king could not possibly win he came himself as an ambassador asking for protection and bringing incredible gifts. Almanzor accepted and even took Urraca Garces, Sancho daughter as wife.

In Burgos they take their legend seriously

While romances, written later in time show a black and white version of the Al-Andalus and Reconquista that was in truth extremely complexe.Mudarra story is an exception. Authors like the great Irene Zaderenko have even called his romance “maurophilo”. I agree, I love the Moors I love Mudarra and I love this soap opera of a Romance. that has tragically the name of the Princes and is not called “El Romance de Mudarra” as it should.

If i convinced me with my Mudarra propaganda you can: Read the first incomplete version of the story (ESP) the romance of the Complaint of Doña Lambra (ESP) and the song of The Revenge of Mudarra (ESP).. thanks for your attention

#romancero viejo #los siete infantes de lara #spanish literature #spanish music #medieval romances #mudarra gonzalez

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swifty-fox · 4 years

Note

dude! more history rants, that was great!! I honestly probably learned more in that than I ever have in a history class

dude! Learning about history is SO much better when the person you’re listening to has a genuine passion for it! My Russian prof used to take his shoes off and bang on the table to prove his point, he would imitate historical figures down to the Russian accent (with great skill he lived in the USSR through the entire nineties which if you know anything about nineties Russia that is a FEAT. His wife to be at the time ((now a german history prof at my college)) was offered a ride in a helicopter by the Russian mob. She declined)

Russian history is also just such a rich and dramatic and WILD history. Theres so many things to focus on like an entire semester was spent JUST studying the revolution and that was only an introductory course

Anyways since I’m here and can rant lets talk about two fun things! Lenins name and his family as well as Vasily Grossmans greatest and most controversial works!

So Vladimir Lenin is a pretty iconic name. A pretty cool name in fact! Really rolls off the tongue and strikes FEAR into enemies hearts.

Did ya know it’s not his fuckin name? Nope! the guy straight up chose a new last name for himself! This former law student (oh yeah he wasn't even a politician no wonder the fucko didn't know how to run a country) was actually born Vladimir Ulyanov!

but why the name change? Ulyanov is still pretty easy to say, still pretty memorable. Rolls of the tongue so on and so forth.

this, ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between and beyond, is because of Lenins older brother Aleksandr Ulyanov!

(this guy has better hair than i could ever hope to, thanks diluted slav genes)

now sweet Aleks here was also four years Vladimirs Senior and was also a revolutionary! (seems like it ran in the family)

Not only was he a revolutionary but he was a MASSIVELY FAMOUS ONE and kinda helped set the ENTIRE downfall of the soviet union in motion long before the revolution was even a whisper of a thought.

How you ask? well uh.

he tried to kill Tsar Nikolas II’s dad.

yes, that Tsar Nikolas who later was overthrown and was executed by firing squad. Sorry the Romanovs are all very very dead we found all their bodies the animated movie was very wrong.

Anyways, sweet kolya’s father was Tsar Alexander III and he was known throughout the land as the Peacemaker!

(also yes they're both called Aleksandr. Russians only have like. Ten names to choose from)

wow sounds like he must be a great guy with a nickname like that huh? Why would anyone wanna kill him! Sadly, the nickname is only because Russia entered no wars under his rule. He was in fact, a huge bastard. Outside of being physically and emotionally abusive to his family (he would often berate Nikolai for being weak which definitely led to some of his issues with his authority and pride being questioned later on...) he was incredibly reactionary and heavy handed when it came to ruling. he opposed ANY movement that might minimize his authority as emperor. He was famous for executing a LOT of anti-imperialist terrorists.

he also looked like this

not to insult bulldogs but this guy sure looks like one.

Anyways, Aleksandr Ulyanov helps devise a plot wherein he and a bunch of other revolutionaries will ride by Tsar Alek’s carriage and chuck a bomb through his window and then boom no more emperor. basically, it was the 1887 version of a drive by shooting.

Naturally, it failed, otherwise we wouldn’t be talking about this! Anyways, All the conspirators were captured and sentenced to death. (5 were later pardoned none of which were Lenins brother.) They were all hanged.

Although Lenin was involved in politics before this to some degree, this action really radicalized him and really got the ball rolling for the eventual Soviet Union. Talk about butterfly effect.

Alright time for history lesson part TWO!! Lets talk about Vasily Grossman and his work In The Town of Berdichev! Though more technically I will be talking more about the film adaptation titled Commissar(1967).

quick background time! Vasily Grossman was born to a Jewish family and due to prosecution (of both Jewish people and Ukrainians) at the time was forced to conceal his heritage. He actually studied to be a chemist at first and was quite successful until he transitioned later in life to being a writer and reporter! His accounts of the Ukrainian famine are the some of the most detailed accounts as well as the most controversial (to the Russian state) he also was a war reporter for WWII and intensively documented the ethnic cleansing going on. Understandably.

he was strongly supported by Maksim Gorky! (yes that Maksim Gorky, famous writer, and the man who helped develop the entire soviet education system that kinda was just brainwashing and propaganda. Reportedly later in life he considered that to be one of his greatest regrets((he was also a massive homophobe too because same sex relationships were actually legal for a while there in russia!))

Long story short, Vasya believed strongly in several things. he believed in the human spirit, he believed in supporting his Jewish brethren, he believed strongly in mother Russia and the communist party. But more than that he believed that those who do not learn from our mistakes are doomed to repeat them.

Thus came about his work. I’ll post a quick plot summary here from Wikipedia of the movie. it’s a really good film honestly I highly recommend it.

“During the Russian Civil War (1918–1922), a female commissar of the Red Army cavalry Klavdia Vavilova (Nonna Mordyukova) finds herself pregnant. Until her child is born, she is forced to stay with the family of a poor Jewish blacksmith Yefim Magazannik (Rolan Bykov), his wife, mother-in-law, and six children. At first, both the Magazannik family and "Madame Vavilova", as they call her, are not enthusiastic about living under one roof, but soon they share their rationed food, make her civilian clothes, and help her with the delivery of her newborn son. Vavilova seemingly embraces motherhood, civilian life, and new friends.Meanwhile, the frontline advances closer to the town and the Jews expect a pogrom by the White Army as the Red Army retreats. Vavilova attempts to console them with a Communist dream: "One day people will work in peace and harmony", but the dream is interrupted with a vision of the fate of the Jews in the coming world war. She rushes to the front to rejoin her army regiment, leaving her newborn behind.“

- White army was the anti-soviet army during the revolution. Red Army was the soviets. Pogroms were targeted areas of ethnic cleansing against Jewish peoples, namely they were villages or towns that were wiped out.

this film was banned for something like forty years for anti-soviet sentiment. But why? it seems pretty damn pro-soviet doesn't it?

Well firstly lets talk about how oppressive the soviet regime was by this point! In 1967 Russia was in the dying throes of Stalins regime. Yes he had died a little over a decade earlier but the government was still very much being run by his ideals. All independent newspapers were banned. EVERYTHING every single piece of art, literature, news, commercial, WHATEVER, had to be state approved. And by god was it hard to get things approved. Grossman routinely wrote of his frustrations and struggles of getting anything published because if a Russain character was portrayed as anything but a happy go lucky communist then it would be censored. Grossman first ran into this issue when he was reporting on the iron and coal mines in siberia. the conditions were terrible but Grossman had to lie and say everything was fine. It let to a real crisis of ideals for him.

The first red mark against this movie is that well, it focuses on a woman. It’s an incredibly feminist movie, with the idea of motherhood and duty and the strength of a woman being just as much if not more than a man. (for reference a Commissar is like an army Officer)

Secondly, she abandons her post! to have a child! In communist Russia NOTHING comes before your duty to the motherland. But again she eventually realizes that the call of her country is stronger than the call of this simple maternal life and she does go on to fight so why is this a problem?

Well ultimately, it boils down to the final scene.

"One day people will work in peace and harmony" she says. An entirely pro-soviet message. But then it is instantly contradicted by footage of the holocaust. This is a visual representation fo Grossman saying that although the communist ideal is strong in the soviet union that they are being blinded by false enemies, prejudices and will find themselves committing such atrocities (of course they already are but again he DID still support the Soviet State) Basically it was a warning to the Soviet Party! Learn from the mistakes that were made and gentle themselves!

And this, this was a criticism of the Soviet party! And thus, it was shelved for nearly twenty years.

It finally was shown again in the late 80′s

Grossman, after attempting to publish his magnum opus, Life and Fate, had his flat raided by the KGB and all his notes, manuscripts, letters, books, publications, and pretty much his life's work were confiscated. Grossman died in the mid 1960′s of stomach cancer not knowing if any of his writings or best works would ever be seen or published again.

Thankfully they were found and published and his massively important legacy lives on in the people who know about him. But his story is a very bittersweet one indeed.

you can watch the full movie here with English captions!

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(tw: imagery of holocaust, some anti-semitism (if i recall) some children without any clothes bathing if i recall (its not weird but I know it was shocking for me to see at first))

(maybe I’ll talk about the TRUE story of Rasputin another time...)

#swiftytalks #russian history #again i dont have my notes on me also i went to PAX for half of the movie so i missed some of it #fact checked by google again but still mostly word vomit #every day I say that Lenin was a BITCH #discussions of antisemitism #as always #because russia #Anonymous

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kob131 · 4 years

Text

https://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/614400525499252736/what-if-trump-decides-to-save-republicans-but-not

It is shocking to see just how low the Trump Administration has brought American democracy in a few short years. Holding aid to an ally to invent dirt on a Democratic opponent was alarming enough to force the hand of Democratic leaders to impeach the president, even though it was clear they didn’t actually want to. And conservative policy has always been generally hostile to the lives, health, and voting rights of people it doesn’t consider part of the Republican coalition.

You know, because it’s okay to have a politician get away with something the other guy is supposedly getting IMPEACHED for (and I say supposed because Russia was cited a fuck ton during the impeachment. You know, the country the UKRAINE OPPOSES) because he has a D next to his name.

And you wanna try selling that ‘conservative policy is hostile to non conservatives’ horseshit when you aren’t surrounded by people who are hostile to conservatives and anyone NOT far left while the conservatives are the only ones with STANDARDS?

But the prospect of an American president using vital resources in a pandemic to curry political favor, keep his supporters alive and let his opponents die in the thousands is something unprecedented in all of American history.

You know, except for MOST PRESIDENTS. Aand is also unproven since there are NO SOURCES in the article to back this shit up.

With all due respect to the reporters who worked hard on this story-

All 0 of them because the only sources in the entire article cite THE FUCKING SAME SITE, something no reporter would do out of fear of being laughed out of the field.

the phrase “they do not appear to follow discernible political or geographic lines” seems comically wrong. Massachusetts, Maine, and Colorado are blue states getting severely shafted. Florida is a swing state that leans red, and it is getting everything it asks for and more. If these figures are part of a larger pattern, it looks very much like political favor currying for some, and vindictive neglect for others

Yeah yeah Nixon, keep telling us about all that proof on that blank sheet of paper of yours.

It looks especially bad in light of the days-long campaign of not-so-subtle extortion of Democratic governors to praise Trump more and take more of the blame themselves if they want their citizens to receive direly needed medical supplies from the same federal government that is outbidding them.

Ah yes, like all those nasty republicians....not taking their vacations to draft a bill to help the American people...and then Nancy Pelosi stopped it....held the aid hostage...until she could extort unpopular bills in exchange for the lives of the people she is suppose to represent....

... Ah shit, reality got in the way. Better gouge out them eyeballs and fall deeper down the rabbit hole huh?

The president’s personal lawyer Rudy Giuliani even went on Fox News to tell infuriated governors that they should “Take the blame when you have to … when you play with your boss, sometimes it’s better when you don’t win the golf game. He’s the boss, he’s got all the resources.”

You know, citing a NOTHING TWITTER ACCOUNT CITING AN OUT OF CONTEXT CLIP WITH NO SOURCE.

We don’t even know what was said BEFORE HAND.

Right now, Republicans are less concerned about coronavirus than Democrats because the virus is mostly impacting urban areas so far. Many Democrats have been expecting that once red states and rural areas start feeling the heat of the pandemic, the conservative movement and the White House will start to take matters more seriously and the ground will shift.

Sorry, we don’t listen to people without eyeballs.

Because the Republicans didn’t stop a bill from helping the US citizens, the Democrats did. The Republicians didn’t hold us hostage to get unwanted bills passed, the Democrats did. The Republicians didn’t risk lives, YOUR FUCKING PARTY DID.

Go eat shit.

So what did Dudeblade say?

Easy! We start corralling republicans into the camps that they praised, and gun them down with the same guns that they were willing to let the children die to protect.

Ah yes, because when someone lies through their teeth: we kill the victims right?

Oh wait, this is coming from the same guy who says minorities who vote for Trump are brainwashed and thus can’t possibly have free will and must be wrong while being a horrendous shit,

Tell me Dudeblade, how many of those children were shot in gun free zones because a mediated murderer won’t give a fuck about gun laws and no one could stop the shooter?

How many of those camps were under Obama, the man you defend as Jesus even as it’s proven HE started most of the shit Trump gets berated for?

How much would you give a shit if those kids were from Covington Catholic, even though those kids were victims of racial attacks themselves?

How much would you actually care if those kids liked Trump?

How much would you care if the virus WAS affecting rural areas or would you clap for joy because you revel in the pain and misery of people who disagree with you?

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, you are a FAR worse person than I am. And considering how deeply disturbed I am: that is saying a fucking lot huh?

You disgust me Dudeblade. And the fact that you hate me so much pretty much informs me that I have some kind of redeemable quality. Because being hated by someone who barely even ACTS HUMAN ANYMORE is a compliment.

Oh by the way, I see that new tag. “Conservatives shouldn’t be allowed to live in peace.” Can't wait for a time machine to appear so I can dumb your ass in Nazi Germany and FORCE you to get some damn perspective.

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nadiaportia · 4 years

Text

Life Lessons - A Past Tale

Summary: On a day meant for relaxation, a young magician-in-training finds herself in the middle of an explosive confrontation.

Starring the Rubalacaba family; Ximena, Heloisa, Cibela, Esmé and Marisol

Word count: ~4.6k

Content warning for violence (nothing too graphic) and a messed up family dynamic.

It was a warm midsummer’s day, the sun stood high in the sky and my lessons had been finished an hour earlier. Mistress Julia had congratulated me on my good work and progress and allowed to me go enjoy myself outside for the rest of the day while she was going to the docks. Her wife had been travelling to Karnassos to see her family and they haven’t seen each other for several weeks.

As it was a habit, I decided to go the aviary to relax after my lessons. The grounds were vast, in my own opinion a little too vast, so there were always places to hide but the aviary had something about it - despite the fact that I was barely on my own there. It was also my sister’s Heloisa’s prefered location; she could spend hours in there taking care and marvelling at its residents. When we were both younger, she would teach the goldfinches to sing along to her whistling and proudly showed them to the servants and our father. The aviary was her dominion, especially since our older sister couldn’t be less interested in birds and spent the time she was on the grounds training or studying.

The aviary was a large cage made of gilded steel with vegetation and a small river flowing through it, in size bigger than the main hall in the manor, where its residents had free reign to live in. Upon entering, I heard giggling and following the path deeper into the small forest, I saw my older sister. She sat on the ground, stroking a golden pheasant on her lap while a hummingbird flew about her face. It was currently holding one of her black curls in its beak as if to pull her up from her comfortable position.

“No, please, Xquic!”, she laughed and stopped stroking the pheasant to gently let the hummingbird sit on her index finger.

“Dorian deserves his caresses too, you know I don’t play favorites.”

She had given every single bird in the aviary a name and treated each of them like individuals. I liked all of them just fine enough but to Heloisa they were as much as her friends like the noble girls she went to parties with in secret. When she saw me, a grin spread across her face.

“Welcome to freedom! I've been here for two hours now, Livia decided to give it a rest because even she didn't have the spirits to talk for too long about this guy's manifest. I mean, reading about revolting merchants can only be so interesting, especially when you already know they were beaten after the armies of Karnassos and Bizatena came to the Zaan's aid!”

She sighed dramatically and proceeded to make kissing noises at Xquic. I sat next to my sister. The grass was warm and soft, and Dorian raised his head to look at me. I reached out and caressed the top of his crown.

“Well, I spent three hours trying to make portals large enough for a human to fit through, but it takes a lot of concentration. When Julia does it, it looks so easy.”

“Your magic stuff is vastly more interesting than politicking and learning how to lie.”

“I don't get your complaints - Tía Esmé has you on track to leave the junior court meetings and go full game. Cibela attended her first meeting last year.”

My sister's smile turned into a sneer. Even though we all enjoyed the luxury of fundamental education - history, philosophy, various languages such as Bizanti, Zadithian and Prakran, literature, art, music, the sciences and common etiquette proper for a noble of Cartagenth - each of us was also given tutelage in a special field in order to prepare us for our future at the Zaan's court.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”, she said and shrugged, “and still, making portals, lifting objects and talking with spirits is pretty wicked and exciting.” I sighed. It didn't matter if she was the best junior politician and won several play-debates against seasoned courtiers during dinners, she would always want the talents others possessed. But I wasn't in the spirits to argue with her, not today.

“Magic is a lot more complicated than you think, and from what Tía Esme says it might take even years before I am as good as Julia - and I don't wanna be just good enough to become a tutor.”

“By the mother, imagine that! No, you will be the greatest magician of all times, they will build statues for and tell stories of you, not only here but everywhere! Crystalleans in the North, bandits in the South, Firenti in the East and Calpacians all over will know the name Ximena de Rubalcaba!”

I laughed and shook my head.

“If you say so, it will be true one day.”

“Of course it will.” Heloisa reassured me and gently shooed her avian companions away from us. “I talked to Tía Esmé a couple of days ago, according to her it could very well be that I were to start my travels very soon. If you asked me nicely and with a bow on top, I could consider namedropping you to the rulers of far away and powerful countries…”

“How's that going to go down? 'Oh, Queen of Prakra, say, if you happen to be looking for a magician, I might just know the right person - my fifteen year old sister!'”

“No, of course not, you idiot. One of the essences of politics is: less is often more.”

“Ah, yes, less was definitely more on the party thrown by the son of the Karnasso ambassador. Or when Shayera, Filomena and you went to a 'health resort'. Or-”

“Okay, I get it. Phew, it's not my fault you are boring and never want to join in on the fun.”

“Whatever. At least I won't die of boredom in cabinet rooms or in court sessions when I'm a grown-up.”

Heloisa scoffed loudly and stood up. “Fine! And you'll never be a capable magician, in the meantime I'll be dining with the influential sovereigns of the world. Who knows, maybe I'll become the next Zaan before you manage to cast a portal!”

I looked lazily at her, how she stood over me, her hands on her hips, the sun behind her head and casting dark curly hair into a warm light.

“Hm.” I closed my eyes and smiled as I heard her walk off and out of the aviary, fuming while murmering curses under her breath.

And yet she was also my best friend even though we were nothing alike. The nightly carousing my sister loved so much was nothing I could ever be interested in, apart from the fact that she was four years older and thus allowed to do it, but rule-breaking and rebellion without a cause in general never had the same appeal to me. It wasn't as if I hated being in company but it wasn't something I craved like a moth needed the lantern's light, and I certainly didn't have the same social charisma as her, with a face known and beloved by all and the ability to make everyone feel special in her company. I liked being on my own, listening to my own thoughts or doing things on my own such as reading, practicing on Cibela's piano whenever she wasn't on the estate (her visits were becoming rarer anyway), stealing into the kitchen to watch the servants prepare our food (the first time I had done that, they thought Madre had send me to make sure they did a good job), making sketches of the paintings in the galleries and many other things lonely noble children seemed to do, as I had been told by my cousin Agustín. The only son of Tía Esmé was a diplomat on track to becoming an ambassador and during his visits, he would stay on the family estate. Despite him and Cibela being the closest in age, they were like cats and dogs to each other, with him having thrown around the words “cruel” and “heartless” while Cibela had complained to Madre about him being a pathetic excuse of a politician and even a traitor to Cartagenth. So he spent most of his visits with Heloisa and me, even though he always told me I was his favorite - and judging by the sharp remarks he made about Heloisa, even to her own face, there was no doubt it was true. It was a nice feeling to be someone’s preferred company even though I felt as if favoritism seemed to be a family tradition, and not a good one.

I sighed, opened my eyes again and was immediately almost blinded by the sun. The goldfinches were singing somewhere in the trees and something was chirping softly in the scrubs. A thought crept into my mind and I grinned. I sat up, leaned towards the bush and let out a whistle. It rustled and a black manakin made its way to me.

“Hello, you cutie.” I said, and wiggled my finger at it. “Wanna help me in an experiment?”

I hoped this would work. We would throw marbles throw the portals to see whether they fulfilled their purpose but never tried it with a living organism, so if it didn't work…

The manakin tilted his head and looked at me. I sighed.

“Right, you don't understand human speech.” I reached out and softly stroked his chest. “But you're not flying away, so I'll take that as a yes.” He nibbled at my finger. “I'll collect some worms for you, I don't have a problem with digging in the ground unlike someone else.”

A chirp, whether he actually understood a word was another matter.

I closed my eyes and let out a breath. I tuned out the noises all around me and concentrated on the manakin, where it was and on creating a gateway to bring it to another location - not very far, just a few meters away from me. A noise that wasn't quite a noise caught my attention and upon opening my eyes, I saw the bird looking curiously at a small doorway, big enough for him to comfortably fit through, and another one near a tree trunk.

“That's for you. Please…?”

The manakin looked at me as if he himself was unsure of this.

“Go ahead, nothing will happen.” I said with hopefully enough conviction in my voice.

It seemed to have hit the mark because he jumped through it - and reappeared a few meters away from me.

“Yes!”, I screamed and pumped a fist in the air and startling the manakin who jumped about a foot in the air.

Time flew by as I made portals, some bigger than others, for my new friend to walk or fly through, and he strangely seemed to find as much joy as this as me.

I was in the middle of making another one when I heard footsteps. To my surprise, it was Heloisa, with her face dark like a beetroot and her mouth twisted into a snarl.

“What happened?” I asked worried, hurrying over to her but instead of an answer she pushed me away. Her eyes were rimmed red and there was a glint of fire in copper brown that made me take a step back.

“What do you think you're going to do with this?”

“Get out of my way!”, was the snappy answer I received as she made her way over to a tree, reached into a hole in the trunk and pulled something out. A shining steel blade, one that I was sure I had seen many many times.

“By the Devil, is that one of the Nopali swords in the ancestral gallery?” I blurted out and followed Heloisa as she stomped out of the aviary. When I got no verbal response, I grabbed her arm and made her face me.

Her lips switched and she scrunched her nose.

“You'll see soon enough what I'll do to her.” Wrenching loose of my grip, she whirled around and continued her way, and it hit me like a falling anvil to know where she was going. The aviary wasn't far from the estate building itself so it didn't take too long before we reached the first inner court which also functioned as training grounds for the guards. In the center, on the sand ground, a young woman in light armor with one arm on her back and the other wielding a blunt training sword was parrying the blow of a figure also clad in light armor and with a double-handed sword. She dodged the next blow, made a sidestep and used the momentum to hit her opponent in the side with the swords pommel. The opponent clutched their side and wheeled around to meet her blow, metal hitting metal in an ugly noise.

“Hey! Cibela!” Neither of the figures acknowledged us but merely continued their melee.

“Don't tell me you want do what I think you want to do.” I sighed and held Heloisa's arm.

“Don't tell me what to do,”, she hissed and shoved me away, “and don't even dare to tell Mother. Cibela!”

“Don't be stupid and put down the sword, please! You'll hurt each other.”

Fury was written all over her face when she said: “That's exactly what I want to do. I've had enough of her thinking she is better than me just for being allowed to train as a warrior!”

“Then challenge her to chess or something, not a swordfight.”

Heloisa let out a mocking laugh. “Of course you'd say that, words befitting of a cowardly magician.” My cheeks stung at her words as if I had been slapped in the face. “You wouldn't understand. You don't have any fighting spirit, so all you are good for is rolling over and playing dead.”

“I just know that fighting battles I can't win doesn't do any good.”

The noise of a body hitting the floor brought our attention back to the fighters and we saw how the woman took the hand of her opponent to be helped off the ground. Dark curls had escaped her braid during the fight and made her look distinctively messy, beads of sweat glittered on her forehead and her neck and face were flushed.

“May the Devil damn you, stop distracting me!”, she yelled at us and pushed the loose strands of her out of her face. Dark eyes fixated us angrily and Heloisa laughed yet again.

“Oh, is it that easy? I'm starting to believe you are not good a fighter as you make everyone believe. How do you even survive on those battlefields you claim you're so successful on?”

Cibela's face flushed even darker than it did from the exhaustion and she let out an angry snarl. “A mercenary is easy work compared to you, sister. Now go away, be a nuisance elsewhere.”

“No, I won't!” Heloisa screamed and held out the sword in front of her. The swordsman dropped their sword in shock and made a motion to walk over to us.

“Stay your hand, Octavio, or I'll have you fired and sent to live with the rats in the gutter.”

“Lady Heloisa, please calm down. The sword you're holding is sharp.”

Cibela let out a laugh. “Of course it is. Stop this nonsense before you hurt yourself, you're not worth a fight.”

I couldn't stop her from stomping at Cibela and I threw myself between the two of them, holding my hands out. “Will you two stop provoking each other?” I knew better than to ask what exactly caused this dispute to begin; I wouldn't get an answer anyway. Heloisa and Cibela constantly butted heads over even the smallest issues, and it wasn't helped by the fact that they were both too eager to find reasons to get into arguments.

Cibela's lip curled in a sneer. “Even Ximena is more of a realist than you. She knows I'd gut you like a fish if this were an actual fight. You are no fighter; all you can do is talk a lot and charm people into doing what you want them to - and that is something everyone can do, it takes no real talent. You're just as stupid and useless as those birds you love so much - pretty to look at and have around with their feathers and songs but shallow and of no use whatsoever.”

Heloisa roared in anger, lifted the sword and ran at our sister. I jumped out of the way, and saw in shock how Cibela easily dodged the blow and took a few steps back.

“I won't fight you, you don't even know how to! It's a waste of my time and an easy kill.”

Frantically I turned to Octavio. “Get whoever, otherwise they'll kill each other for real!”, I yelled and as Cibela's coach ran off, I stood up and thought about what to do. Damn me for not knowing how to make protective shields!

“Get a real sword and let's find out, and do you think me so stupid to fight you without knowing how to?”

“Yes, I do.”

The next hit on the tourney sword left a dent in it, and Heloisa let out a triumphant laugh. “Don't bother with holding back, or is that all you can do? I have long suspected all you did on those battlefields was have others do your dirty work, seems I was right after all!”

A kick to the stomach silenced Heloisa and sent her tumbling back. Cibela scoffed and walked back to the assembly of swords to train with and took out a silver shortsword. “Yield now, sister. Scars don't suit you and we'd never hear the end of it.”

“I have been watching you train with Octavio and the others, do you really think I never learned even a bit? Or that I might have had someone who helped me from time to time?” The grin slipped from her face as Cibela approached her with sure steps, sword in hands and swung at her. Heloisa ducked and scrambled away from our sister's reach, who looked merely amused. “I think you're in way over your head. But I will give you a lesson you will not forget ever, that you may know your place and to stay in it.”

A quick movement and Cibela took off, sword pulled back to strike at Heloisa, who stood her ground with a determined look on her face. But the impact of Cibela, who was at least a head taller and had a more muscular frame, was enough to send her on her back onto the ground. “Your battles are in court and with words, not blades.”

I screamed in terror as Cibela threw back her arm, to swing it at Heloisa's face-

I acted on instinct, for fear for my sister's life. Light bubbled in my hands and I aimed it at the two. Cibela groaned at the blinding light and covered her face as she stumbled back as Heloisa gave a hard kick at her ankle and rolled out from under her.

“You're a true magician, Ximena,”, Cibela spat at me, her face scrunched up in anger as she stood up, “too much of a coward to get involved directly but always ready to help with dirty tricks. You two are a disgrace to our family name.” Then she spun around to catch Heloisa's wrist, I hadn't even noticed her getting up again and trying to hit Cibela in the back with the pommel.

“Especially you.”

Her grip was so hard that it made Heloisa scream in pain, she dropped the sword and let it fall into the dust between them. Cibela let her fall back, and as if through fog I saw the blade in her other hand find its way onto Heloisa's torso, connecting with it at the shoulder blade and making its way to the hipbone. Someone's shrill scream rang in my ears and only when I covered my mouth I realized it had been me. But I couldn't move, I was rooted to the spot as I watched my sisters, one standing with the tip of her blade bloodied over the other, lying on the group, gasping like a fish out of water.

Someone else's scream brought me back to reality and I spun around to see our mother and our aunt make their way to us, Octavio hot on their heels.

“Oh my goodness!” Madre threw her hands to her face as she saw Heloisa in the dust. Her flowing purple gown fluttered behind her as she ran to them, while Tía Esmé approached me and grabbed me by the shoulders with urgency. “Marilena, what happened? Be quick about it.”

I stumbled upon my words various times and only when she dabbed my face with her cape, I noticed tears were streaming down my face. “He-Heloisa challenged Cibela to a-a fight. I didn't think they'd ac-actually-”

“What's done is done. With me, now.” Her hand wrapped around my wrist like a vice as she pulled me along. “Julia taught you the basics of healing, now's time to make use of them.”

I gaped at Tía Esmé but the steely look in her eyes made me swallow my doubts.

“Are you happy now? Isn't that what you wanted?” Cibela's voice was cold as ice, no hint of regret upon what she did.

“Cibela, what have you done?” Mother cried as she cradled Heloisa, tears were freely running down her face and leaving dark traces of her make-up. My sister was looking at the cut in her chest as if she couldn't believe what just happened. The blood was beginning to stain the burgundy fabric black as it seeped out. She raised a hand to touch it and screamed at the sight of her own blood on it.

“I gave my dearly beloved sister what she was so desperately chasing; someone who would put her back in her place and teach her some respect.”

I stared at Cibela and felt my throat tighten at the venom in her words. For a brief moment, nothing more than a split second, I considered picking up the sword on the ground and hitting her with it, but the thought of it frightened me as soon as I finished it.

The vice around my wrist disappeared and Tía Esmé closed in on Cibela, who held up her chin in defiance. “Did you stop to think about turning down the duel and reason with her without spitting poison? Is this how an officer of the Grand Army of Cartagenth behaves, or this is more akin to a lawless bandit?”

Cibela took a step forward, her face mere inches away from Tía Esmé. “She was the one who insisted on a duel, she can be lucky I decided to show mercy even if I was in the full right to kill her and I wouldn't have shed a tear if I had done so.”

The silence behind that statement lasted both nothing and an eternity, and the ensuing sound of the back of Esmé's hand hitting Cibela's face full force seemed deafening. Mother screamed and instantly let go of Heloisa to help her eldest of the dust, leaving me to catch her before she hit the ground.

“You ungrateful little parasite.” Esmé sneered as Cibela held the side of her face where she had been hit, “have you learnt nothing? Family is the only thing that matters. Without us, you’re a fucking nobody. Get out of my sight.”

Cibela scrambled onto her feet, a trail of blood running down her nose and furious tears building in her eyes. Without a further word she whirled around and left the training grounds, with Madre running after her and saying words made unintelligible by her sobs.

“Octavio, get a doctor. Have them bring something for transport.” The coach bowed quickly with a murmured “Yes, General.” and ran back into the building.

I took a deep breath as I laid my hands on Heloisa's chest. She let out a scream and squeezed her eyes shut. Esmé knelt next to us and regarded the wound with an expert's eye.

“Try to keep her from bleeding out, from what I see the wound is not deep enough to make lethal damage but you can never know. I've seen soldiers bleed to death from a lot less and survive a lot worse.”

She reached out and took Heloisa's hand, gently stroking the back of it with her thumb. “Stay awake, it'll all be alright.”

…

It would be alright, but it ended up taking two whole months. Two months that Heloisa spent in bed, taking medicine that would hurry up the healing process and barely being able to move without experiencing pain. That did not prevent her tutors from giving her stuff to read and it drove her mad with anger, along with the fact that this prohibited her from leaving with the junior council to places such as Vesuvia and Firent. I was the one keeping her company most of the evenings, occasionally Madre or Padre would join but more often than not instead of them it was Tía Esmé if she happened to be on the grounds and not in the city or at court giving war council. Cibela had left the estate grounds days after the incident to lead a division of Cartagense soldiers to the Sea of Persephia, which had to be a journey of approximately two months. After a long discussion between Tía Esmé and Madre on which I had eavesdropped, they decided it was best to send Cibela away for at least a while for the bad blood to die down, and the troops desperately needed support on the front.

“Against who is the Grand Army fighting now?” I asked Tía Esmé one evening during dinner.

“The Bizanti are on the verge of starting a trade war after being threatened by a small, way too insignificant city state and it is our duty to stand by our allies and aid them in crushing the enemy.” Her gaze turned cool as she spoke. “You make it sound as if you think we are always at war with others.”

“Aren't we? You're always holding war councils with the Zaan and his courtiers.”

“Ximena!” Madre put down her fork and looked at me. “Don't speak like this to your aunt, especially not at the table.” But Tía Esmé merely raised her hand. “I don't mind, Marisol. And I don't blame you, dearest, after all you are still only a child whereas your sisters understand the way things work. We have the right to defend ourselves from our enemies at all costs.”

“I know, but does it have to be that way? Agustín surely could solve this, isn’t that what diplomats are for?” Aunt Esmé regarded me with a raised eyebrow, Madre laughed quietly and soon everyone turned their attention back to the food. Even Heloisa seemed to agree with them when I told her what happened at dinner.

“You should be glad we have people like Tía Esmé. If generals like her hadn't been so successful, Cartagenth would’ve already been conquered by someone and instead of the Zaan, some foreign ruler would call the shots.”

I sighed. “Maybe you're right. But not everything needs to end in bloodshed.” You out of all people should know that, I thought bitterly and sat down in an armchair.

“Some people simply don't know better,”, Heloisa sighed, like always lacking self-awareness, and turned her attention back to her book. I looked at her, my tongue barely holding back a sharp remark, and grabbed the card deck. With Julia not teaching me divination beyond the basics, it was the only area I had to work on myself. The books in the library were helpful but it was mostly a matter of practice, as I found out. A lot of practice and listening. I shuffled the deck and pulled out a card. Justice, reversed. Unfairness and lies. How very fitting.

#my writing #ximena rubalcaba #heloisa de rubalcaba #no beta reading we die like MEN in this household

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letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 4 years

Note

Okay, if it's too much, don't answer that's fine. I'm not American and I've read so many different things about the political stuff that's going down over there, some saying Biden is the same as Trump, some say he's even better than Bernie. I got not clue how to sort that Joe Biden guy, sooo... Could you help us non Americans out a little? So far it's just looking like everyone is standing around a dumpster fire, shouting stuff that's not really comprehensible

Jesus Christ this was something to wake up to this morning. I’m gonna be honest, it’s not my job to educate you or anyone else on this matter, you’re all adults (supposedly, I’m doubtful about a lot of you) and Google exists. But I also understand that it can be intimidating to dive into the wide world of the internet and it feels easier to ask someone you trust or feel that you know, so I’ll do my best to be concise and explain.

Everyone is standing around a dumpster fire shouting stuff that’s not comprehensible because people, my darling, are idiots.

“No, Mads, people aren’t idiots!” A person is not an idiot. But people are. Put us in a group and we’ll happily self destruct in the most spectacular fashion possible.

Biden is nowhere near the same as Trump, people just live in an echo chamber and refuse to look at the facts. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how awful Trump is. It baffles me that people are saying Biden, who happily supported Barack Obama and played second fiddle to him for eight years, is the same as the man who’s putting children in cages.

Here is a breakdown of Biden’s policy plans should he be elected. Very different from Trump’s, as you can see. To quote this post here:

“It's important to be critical of political figures, especially during a primary election. Joe Biden has been in politics for a very long time, and his record is by no means spotless. There's lots to criticize, politically and personally. But having Biden in the big chair instead of Trump changes the entire game.

Look at it this way: if Joe Biden wins, a democratic Congress gets a clear path to passing real, lasting progressive laws. If Joe Biden wins, Ruth Bader Ginsburg gets to retire, and be replaced by a young firebrand who will make Neil Gorsuch and Brett Kavanaugh's lives a living hell for the next 40 years. If Joe Biden wins, all of the horrible executive orders Trump has enacted are gone, on day one: family seperation, abortion bans in VA hospitals, EPA funding gutted, global warming denial in NOAA, removal of LGBT+ protections, all GONE in January 2021. If Joe Biden wins, all the Trump shills in the government disappear: I'm talking about new people in the CPB, the Justice Department, the FTC, and everything other federal agency. With Biden instead of Trump, we're going to be fighting for Medicare for All vs. Obamacare, instead of Keeping Obamacare vs. Stripping Away Any Kind of Federal Insurance. We're going to be fighting for the Green New Deal vs. Having a Functional EPA, instead of Gutting The EPA or Having No EPA At All. The fight is way different, and we get to pull the conversation further left - where it belongs.

This election is just as much about getting rid of the Republican stench in the Oval Office as it is electing a particular person. So yeah, be critical of Joe Biden, but please don't lose sight of what President Joe Biden would actually look like versus President Trump.”

People seem to be forgetting that when you vote for president, you are, supposedly, not voting for One Supreme Leader Who Makes All The Decisions Ever. Putting Biden in the Oval Office is more about putting in a man who will pass the laws that a liberal, democratic Congress will put in front of him. A man who will actually listen to his advisors. It’s about putting in someone who won’t appoint a bunch of judges that will screw over everyone for the next, oh, three decades.

I don’t want Biden in office. I wanted Elizabeth Warren, for fuck’s sake. Whose policies were the same as Bernie’s, by the way, for all you bros out there who say you aren’t sexist. The last thing I want is another old white man, for the love of whatever you worship. But the idea that someone who supported and worked under someone like Obama is somehow the same as a Neo-fascist egomaniac is... ridiculous. It’s truly ridiculous. Not that Obama was perfect, far from it, but under his presidency we were making progress on things and my God, I wasn’t scared for the lives of just about everyone I know.

As for Biden versus Sanders, the argument that Biden is better stems from the fact that while Sanders has helped move the party left with his presidential campaigns and he makes pretty speeches, he hasn’t actually done anything in all his time serving as an elected public official. If you actually go and look at his track record, he hasn’t passed many laws or helped enact a whole lot of others. Everyone’s making a big deal about how he “saved millions of lives” with his big speech but actually, sorry kids, politics are not Hollywood and you don’t save the day by making a speech and miraculously everyone votes on something. Senator Michael Bennet of Colorado and Schumer actually talked to people, convinced them on it, and got the votes that secured the unemployment bill being passed, and that’s what saved lives, not someone yelling (no matter how passionate or eloquent their yelling is).

It’s great to yell about how the system is corrupt etc but you have to actually follow those words with actions, and Sanders, historically, is not good about compromising, working with others, reaching out to others, being on a team. And that’s exactly what you need to be able to do in politics to get anything done. There’s an episode of Leverage called “The Gimme a K Job,” where Sophie spends the entire time running back and forth between politicians getting them to compromise and quid pro quo for one another so she can get them to vote on a law. I recommend watching it. The situation is played for laughs, but it’s also brutally honest. You cannot get anything done in politics (or in a lot of things in life) if you aren’t willing to work together and bargain and give some to get some, and Sanders isn’t, and that’s not good.

Now, Sanders has done a lot in his presidential campaign to move the Dem party left and he’s really stirred up younger voters, and those are both good things. If you look at Biden’s policies in the post I linked, you’ll see a lot of them are more liberal than most people expected, and that’s probably because Biden and his team saw everyone supporting Sanders’ policies and went, “oh, okay, this is what the people want.” Which already shows that Biden is willing to listen to the people more than Trump and his party are.

And then there’s the more personal side of things. Sanders really left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth because some of his supporters were so extreme in their support of him, to the point of acting like he’s the only person who could possibly save us, when honestly that’s not how democracy (or socialism, frankly) works. The whole idea is that all of us, working together as a movement, are what makes change. The people all standing up together and demanding that lawmakers do this, that, and the other thing. Sanders extremists, known as “Bernie Bros,” acting like Sanders is their One True Savior has rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. In my experience, people don’t like being shouted at and told they’re idiots. And in my experience, one single person isn’t going to save you. And nobody’s perfect so furthermore acting like someone is perfect is only going to annoy everyone else around you and set you up for disappointment down the line.

There are a lot of people out there feeling attacked by Sanders supporters, and so frankly, they’re glad to see the back of him and throw support behind Biden, because they’re just sick of dealing with his extremist followers.

If you want to tear the system down completely then gold star to you, but the fact is otherwise you have to work within the system to change it. And I don’t see any of these people yelling on the internet actually doing the work to organize a revolution. It’s fun to yell about your opinions, it helps you feel better, it helps you feel powerful and heard. But the real work is done in volunteering, in protesting, in running for local offices, in doing research and then voting for your mayor, your governor, your senator, your state representative. Those people, as the COVID-19 epidemic is proving, actually often have more direct power to help or harm you than the President does.

People have more power than they think, but they’re just refusing to use it, and they’re refusing to think critically and to do research on the policies of candidates. I’ve seen people calling Biden a “serial rapist,” for crying out loud, which, whether he assaulted a woman or not, is not true. That’s like if I killed one person and suddenly everyone was calling me a mass murderer. People like to exaggerate, to bloviate, and to think in black and white. It’s disappointing, but true.

One final thought, for both you and actual Americans: look at how non-Americans are viewing the United States election. We are not the center of the universe (although we like to pretend we are) but we do have a huge impact on the global stage, and other countries are begging us to elect someone other than Trump. You want to claim we’re not the stereotype of the selfish, self-centered American? Than put your money where your mouth is and look at the non-Americans who are asking us to please, please, please elect someone else. Do it for them, if nothing else. The world is bigger than just us.

Biden isn’t perfect. One could argue one way or another on the Sanders v. Biden debate. It really depends on your personal opinion. But when it comes to Trump v. Biden, it really shouldn’t be rocket science. One of them has allowed racism, sexism, and xenophobia to thrive. He’s literally responsible for thousands of deaths (and counting) through his mishandling of the COVID-19 pandemic. He’s backed us out of the planet-saving environmental agreement that everyone else agreed to. He’s enabled corrupt, selfish politicians to have their way. He would appoint judges that will strike down everything from refugees to abortion rights. He’s destroyed our international relations, nearly started a war, and I actually don’t think he knows how to read.

And his name’s Trump.

That’s the difference.

#mads answers things #politics #this is the one and only time I am explaining this #all other questions will simply get a link to this post #yokoo-chan98

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idairsauthor · 4 years

Text

This Fcking Impeachment, Episode 5: If You Go After The King

PLAIDDER: Hey, Conn.

CONN: Hello, stranger.

PLAIDDER: Leave me alone. I’ve been busy.

CONN: You’ve been hiding.

PLAIDDER: OK, fine. I’ve been taking a break from all...this. I don’t think I’ve really missed anything.

CONN: How can you say--

PLAIDDER: For the first week, you know, I thought it actually would matter how things went in the impeachment hearings. And maybe it did, some. But not enough.

CONN: You were waiting for your Republicans to turn on him, weren’t you.

PLAIDDER: No. But I thought public opinion might shift, or something. Now, it’s just...you know, I don’t expect a lot of surprises at this point. The House will impeach and the Senate will acquit and the Russians will collude and this son of a bitch will be reelected in 2020 and that’s the end of the American experiment.

CONN: Please don’t tell me you regret your Nancy Pelosi’s doing this.

PLAIDDER: Oh no. No, not at all. We had to.

CONN: That’s a relief.

PLAIDDER: You know, they say, if you go after the king, you better not miss. But you understand better than most that sometimes--

CONN: Sometimes, you just have to go after the king.

PLAIDDER: No matter what.

CONN: No matter what.

PLAIDDER: What actually depresses me most about all this, Conn, is watching everyone second-guess what the Democrats are doing. Everyone wants to be the one to have found the flaw in the strategy that will have led to the final defeat. This is what frustrates me about the mainstream media--the “good” media, the ones that actually try to be factually accurate and halfway responsible. There’s always this narrative, where for a while one side is up, and then that side is down and the other side is up, and so no matter what’s actually happening, you think you’re winning one week and the next week you’re plunged into despair.

CONN: Our repeater chains really aren’t that sophisticated.

PLAIDDER: I didn’t want them to be. Your country’s never going to have social media; you already have telepathy.

CONN: So this week, the story is the Democrats are down, eh?

PLAIDDER: Yeah. Knowing that this is the narrative somehow doesn’t protect me from it emotionally. But all week it’s been “what the Democrats should do that they’re not doing” or “what the Democrats shouldn’t do that they are doing” or “why the whole process is broken and our country is fucked up beyond all repair” or...and I’m sick of it.

CONN: Do you really think they could be doing a better job with this?

PLAIDDER: No. I don’t. This is what drives me nuts. When Pelosi was staving off impeachment, everyone I knew was like, what is this weak sauce, what are they waiting for, he gives proof of impeachability every day, this is what we always do, we keep our powder dry till it’s too late to use it, this party will never do anything right as long as they’re taking money from corporations, etc. etc. etc. Now we’re actually doing it, and everyone wants to talk about why it’s not working.

CONN: How is it not working? All the evidence--

PLAIDDER: I know. I know. They have no evidence, they have no logical or coherent defense of him, they have nothing, everything during the Intelligence Committee hearings went our way. But to the people who support him, it doesn’t matter what the evidence shows. It doesn’t matter what the law is. It doesn’t matter what the Constitution says. If he does it, it’s right.

CONN: And you don’t understand that.

PLAIDDER: I have never felt that way about any politician. When it comes to politics, I don’t fall in love.

CONN: Not even with your Mr. Obama?

PLAIDDER: Look, I’m not gonna say I was immune to his magic, or Bill Clinton’s either. But when Bill Clinton was accused of having an affair with a White House intern, I was like, well that’s not implausible. I hoped he was telling us the truth about that, but I was ultimately not really surprised to discover that he wasn’t. Obama promised to close Guantanamo and he didn’t. Obama deported all kinds of people. Obama was fine with undeclared drone warfare. Nobody’s perfect. Nobody’s ideal. Nobody’s a hero.

CONN: None of that stops you from wanting them to be. That’s why you get mad at them, when they inevitably betray your hopes.

PLAIDDER: My point is, Conn, Buttercup came into this presidency with about 35-40% approval and that’s where he’ll be when he finally leaves it, no matter what happens. And 35-40% approval is good enough to keep the Congressional Republicans fawning around him licking his boots. It’s disgusting. It’s depressing.

CONN: Well then why did you want this impeachment, if it doesn’t matter?

PLAIDDER: You can be a real pain in the gleacha, you know that?

CONN: Maybe, but I’m cheaper than your therapist.

PLAIDDER: Yeah, all right. We had to do it. Because you have to do what you CAN do, even if it doesn’t matter. Before you get to the...scary shit...you have to exhaust the constitutional remedies.

CONN: Exactly.

PLAIDDER: If we hadn’t done this, we’d always have told ourselves that was our mistake. Now we’re doing it, and whatever happens, at least we don’t have to beat ourselves up for not having been willing to take the risk.

CONN: And may I remind you that you don’t know what’ll happen.

PLAIDDER: I think I do, Conn.

CONN: You didn’t predict how the shutdown would end.

PLAIDDER: Yeah, you were closer but you were wrong. They didn’t vote to override his veto.

CONN: Because he realized it was a danger and decided not to give them the choice. If he comes to think there’s a real chance he will be removed, he’ll run. He’s not a brave man.

PLAIDDER: But there is no real chance of his being removed-

CONN: --yet.

PLAIDDER: NO! NO MORE YETS! I AM SICK OF YET! THERE ARE NO YETS IN THIS COUNTRY! WE ARE YETLESS! AMERICA HAS A MASSIVE YET DEFICIT!

CONN: Friend, I can see you’re upset, but let me tell you: you don’t know. Nobody knows. People have opinions but they don’t know. Did anyone know that your Mr. Giuliani was going to go to Ukraine this week to continue soliciting bribes and propagating Russian disinformation while the hearings were going on?

PLAIDDER: NOBODY CARES!

CONN: Your Rep. Matt Gaetz, he of the Great SCIF Sit-In, is on record saying that it’s “weird.”

PLAIDDER: So what. Buttercup will tweet at him and he’ll walk it back.

CONN: But did you expect that?

PLAIDDER: No. No, to be honest, I did not expect that.

CONN: Your Senator Kennedy can’t seem to decide whether he’s all in on the propaganda or not. He keeps going back and forth.

PLAIDDER: What does that get us?

CONN: Nothing tangible. The report on that investigation your William Barr started into the Mueller investigation is due to be released today. Have you read it?

PLAIDDER: No, they haven’t dropped it yet.

CONN: Why not?

PLAIDDER: I don’t know, maybe they got held up at Kinko’s.

CONN: You don’t think it might be because they’re desperately trying to massage it into a vindication of Trump’s “hoax” narrative even though they know they can’t?

PLAIDDER: Of course it might be. Or it may be they’re planning to dump it at 5 after the impeachment hearings are over.

CONN: If it’s going to vindicate their man, wouldn’t they drop it now and pull focus?

PLAIDDER: Conn--

CONN: YOU MADE ME RESILIENT. You MADE ME an optimist. YOU made me capable of preserving my faith in democratic institutions and diplomacy through EVERYTHING. Through imprisonment and mindforcing and torture. Maybe I SHOULD stop hoping but I can’t because you made hope unkillable in me. Why are you yelling at me? I am who I am because you need me to be that way.

PLAIDDER: I know. I know.

CONN: And I say, do not throw yourself into a pit of despair just because he has not been defeated YET.

PLAIDDER: All right, Conn. Point taken.

CONN: They’re doing what you want them to do and what you know is right. They’re going after the king. No matter what.

PLAIDDER: No matter what.

CONN: The consequences will be what they will be. But this was the right thing to do and they’re doing it. Can’t you celebrate that?

PLAIDDER: I guess I can try.

CONN: That’s the spirit!

PLAIDDER: All right, Conn, thanks for coming in. See you next episode.

#this fcking impeachment #the current catastrophe #conn mac emer #impeachment

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sharpened-fantastic · 4 years

Note

what are the reasons to vote for Biden? because you're out here talking about how we shouldn't vote green/abstain from the presidential, but can you please tell me what exactly would be different about a Biden presidency vs a Trump one? besides that a second Trump turn would keep liberals engaged and give us more chances to radicalize them. Joe Biden is just as bad as Trump on nearly every level and if he miraculously wins the gen, the DNC will be left unchecked. I'm curious on who that helps!

Hey! A genuine thank you for sending a full, non-anonymous ask.

However, the biggest thing to remember is that having a democrat in the office will lead to policy changes and will change how our country is shaped for literal decades to come.

Yes--Biden is a shit head, he would probably continue a lot of the racist and outright idiotic policies that Trump either put in place or continued from previous presidencies. I wish it weren’t true but that’s a simple fact. I agree that this sucks dick and makes me not want to vote at all.

One BIG thing is having a leader, regardless of political views, that has literally any political experience other than “accidentally got elected for four years as president”. Even compared to other presidents, even other republicans, his approach is overly militaristic, explicitly fueled by monetary gain, and he refuses to bend to even feign concern or duty towards American citizens. His open xenophobia (that has literally been UNPRECIDENTED, even to other politicians sharing his beliefs) has allowed greater mobility and reach for hate groups, and has let other politicians feel more comfortable in presenting non-coded, upfront, racist policy. It’d be one thing if it just showed the American public “oh wow, all of these places were racist the whole time”, but elevating literal concentration camps (yes, those did exist during the Obama era) to “let’s use abandoned warehouses to strip kids from their families, live in conditions we legally don’t let a lot of animals live in, and give them marked psychological scarring!”, among other things (I’m gonna put references at the end of this I’d hate to be talking purely out of my ass).

Trump is also horrifically undiplomatic--severing or straining our ties to other developed nations--, overemotional and unprofessional constantly on social media, and speaks positively on radically bigoted and backwards groups.

I think you’re giving Trump a lot of credit by saying he and Biden are equally bad. Both racist? yes. Both made bad policy decisions? oh yeah. However, Biden is still left enough that the democratic party accept him, the republican party has been squabbling since 2016 that Trump is too right-wing for republicans. Let’s have a president that even pretends to condemn Charlottesville or the dozens of other explicit hate crimes across the country. Let’s have a president that has better tax policies, or maybe even pays their taxes at all! Sure, they’re both bad! It’s a shit situation we’re in! But would you rather be trapped in a room with a child throwing trash, or a child setting the room on fire?

Oh and one other big thing, I don’t want Trump choosing the supreme court for an entire generation, thanks.

Who knows, that’s up to you I guess, and if you don’t wanna vote I can’t stop you, I mean, it’s punishment enough that you’re gonna have to live with your decision.

Here’s the biggest thing to remember: voting isn’t fair. It’s a broken system that supports those who abuse it, and those who abuse it are shitty people that don’t deserve that power. HOWEVER, refusing to vote only allows those who support people who abuse power to become more brazen in their racism, disregard for the American public, and signals to republicans “we give up! we swear we’re gonna have a revolution one of these days, but until then, you choose who’s in office!”

Biden is the wrong choice for presidency, but he’s our only choice. I don’t support Biden, I support voting, and I refuse to support letting Trump have another minute in office just to “radicalize leftists”. Not to be rude, but I think anyone who’s gonna get radicalized in this direction has been radicalized, but there are plenty of centrists that were taught “racism is bad” in grade school, but are getting a ton of support from the “racism can benefit you” crowd.

Ok, I’ve held off from the caps lock and stupid italics and bold for long enough, but “a second Trump turn would keep liberals engaged and give us more chances to radicalize them.”?!

Are you fucking kidding me???

I don’t think anyone should have to think on having their political ideologies shifted while hundreds of Americans die due to lack of access to basic necessities, having their families torn apart, and while the future of the country burns in the background. Trust me, regular republicans do enough heinous shit to radicalize me and the majority of my group, you just normally need to dig ever-so-slightly deeper than surface level to see it, and providing that information to people is something I’m willing to do to get Trump out of office.

I really hope that I’m misreading what you said there, because holy hot fuck is that the most disgusting thing I’ve heard all fuckin month.

But here’s the biggest thing! VOTING IS SO EASY TO DO. PLEASE JUST DO IT. DON’T ACTIVELY ALLOW TRUMP TO WIN. I KNOW IT’S MUCH MORE DIFFICULT IN SOME STATES COMPARED TO OTHERS, BUT IF YOU DO HAVE THAT PRIVILEGE I WILL BURN YOU TO THE GROUND IF YOU THROW IT AWAY.

Sorry, this was way longer and more of a rant than I intended. TL;DR--

Both are bad, but saying that Biden is “just as bad” as Trump is flat-out irresponsibly ignorant

One has political experience. That’s it that’s the bullet point.

As far as bad presidents go, Trump has been fuckin record breaking

Trump goes on overemotional, uneducated rants on social media, refuses to speak against extremely open, literal hate speech groups, and is straining America’s relationships with all other developed nations

There are some differences in their policies, again, both are bad, but this is not the time for black and white thinking please

A radical president radicalizes people in both directions

I can’t even properly express my distaste for the comment “a second Trump turn would keep liberals engaged and give us more chances to radicalize them” I am literally praying that I’m misinterpreting what you’re saying right now, holy fuck

IF YOU CAN VOTE AND YOU CHOOSE NOT TO, I’M MORE ENRAGED AT YOU THAN PEOPLE WHO STILL THINK THIRD-PARTIES CAN STILL WIN, BECAUSE AT LEAST THEY GIVE ENOUGH OF A SHIT TO ENGAGE WITH DEMOCRACY.

Ok references (sorry they’re all in the wrong order and of varying quality): x x x x x x x x x x x

#sorry i'll stop this shit soon #i'm just so angry #I wanna give up too bitch!!#I don't wanna vote for Biden either!!!#fucked up how that is huh??#shitpantworld

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