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#“this would crumble the economy”
bredforloyalty · 11 months
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ok going back soon to the regularly scheduled posting. nothing changed it's just that the sun is up and i feel braver being a girlwreck so we're back to that not so sweet spot where i just don't care. just don't care. so what if i don't hand in anything or hand it in a week later and get a bad mark and have to apologize profusely and everyone's disappointed and they think i'll never amount to anything. what about it. what are they gonna do, kill me? better make it count. better make it hurt. because otherwise, well i do not care
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binch-i-might-be · 2 years
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guess who just paid 120 bucks for two (2) nights at a hotel because of course the hostel didn't have anything free for that weekend <3
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horngryeyes · 2 years
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was pulling on standard banner because i love bad decisions and dont think i wanna save my primos for anyone rn and i pulled razor aaa hell yeah hes actually one of the 4stars i wanted to get
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Petronius Maximus --- The dipshit Roman emperor who caused the sack of Rome because he was an arrogant dipshit.
Petronius Maximus was a wealthy Roman politician born in 397 AD to old Roman money. Like many wealthy Romans he went into politics and throughout the early 5th century climbed the ranks of Roman government until he became one of the most powerful men in the Western Roman Empire. He was crafty and he was ambitious. He was also a dipshit and an asshole.
By the 450's P. Maximus had a clear plan, to create a power vacuum in Rome that he could cunningly fill. He began by turning the emperor at the time, Valentinian III, against his magister militum Flavius Aetius. As magister militum Aetius was commander of the Roman Army, and had proven himself a master tactician and brilliant diplomat. Through military victories and diplomacy Aetius was barely holding a crumbling empire together. Maximus convinced Valentinian III that Aetius was looking to usurp his throne. Thus in 454 Valentinian summoned Aetius to his palace and personally murdered him with his sword. Maximus had organized the death of the most talented Roman official in the empire, which in the grand scheme of things was probably a big mistake. With Aetius dead, Maximus expected he would take Aetius' place as magister militum. However Valentinian refused to appoint him as magister militum. Thus in 455 AD, Maximus had him assassinated, hiring two of Aetius' bodyguards to do the deed as revenge.
Several powerful Romans claimed the Imperial throne but Maximus managed to beat them all to the punch by taking over the Imperial Palace and immediately marrying Valentinian's widow, Licinia Eudoxia. Licinia didn't know Maximus had murdered her husband at the time but had suspicions. He also forced her daughters, Placidia and Eudocia to marry his sons. Through deceit and murder Maximus had managed to weasel his way into the Roman Imperial family and was now creating his own Imperial dynasty. Thus Petronius Maximus had become Emperor Dipshit, ruler of the shiny turd of what was left of the Western Roman Empire.
Problem was, when Emperor Dipshit married off Placidia and Eudocia to his sons, he canceled Eudocia's arranged marriage to Hunneric, who was the son of Geiseric, king of the Vandals. The Vandals were a Germanic tribe that had set up a prosperous kingdom in the former Roman province of North Africa, and were constantly raiding the Italian coast. Valentinian had arranged the marriage of Eudocia as a peace offering to Geiseric. Geiseric had received a letter from Eudoxia informing him that Maximus had killed her husband and was canceling the marriage of Eudocia. Geiseric was enraged at Empror Dipshit for canceling the marriage, and sent a Vandal fleet and army to Rome in response. "No problem" said Emperor Dipshit, "we got the Roman Army".
Except there was no Roman Army. Not really. After the death of Aetius the remains of the standing full time professional army had collapsed almost completely. Even Aetius was very dependent on mercenaries and allies. Nobody wanted to enlist in the Roman Army in the 5th century, with Romans going so far as to cut off their own fingers to avoid conscription. The Roman economy was a mess, the Imperial bureaucracy was riddled with corruption, the life of the average Roman was miserable, and by the 5th century most Roman emperors were snobbish, over-privileged, incompetent out of touch dipshits. The empire was dying and everybody knew it. Few believed it was worth saving, and nobody wanted to die for a dipshit emperor such as Emperor Dipshit. By 455 AD what was left of the Roman Army consisted of militia units called "limitanei" who acted as border patrolmen far away from Rome. For more complex military operations the Romans were fully dependent on mercenaries and allies. Emperor Dipshit attempted to enlist the help of the Visigoths, but they were like, "LMFAO nooo, you made your bed now lie in it!" I speculate they knew Maximus was a dipshit who was probably gonna get them all killed.
Emperor Dipshit knew it was a hopeless situation, so he made an announcement to the Roman people to flee and save themselves, then he too turned tail and fled. He was spotted by a large group of Roman refugees, who formed a mob and beat him to death. Good riddance. Emperor Dipshit's glorious reign lasted 77 days.
As far as sackings go the sack of Rome in 455 AD wasn't too bad. The Vandals were Christians, so the Pope was able to convince them not to do the more horrible things like rape and murder civilians, or burn down the city. So for the most part the Vandals refrained from bloodshed and arson. However they did take as many Romans into slavery as they could fit on their ships, and they also looted the city of almost everything of value. Even the bronze tiles on the roof of the Temple of Jupiter were pried off and carted away. Also Geiseric carted off Eudocia and married her off to his son Huneric.
The Vandal's sack of Rome in 455 is where we get the term "vandalism" today. Also did I mention that Petronius Maximus was a dipshit?
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piplupcola · 10 days
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The difference between College Humor and Watcher is that CH has a huge cast of people with mutiple shows releasing episodes extremely regularly. Not only just a huge cast of people but people the audience like. Sure there's the highlights like Brennan and such but people aren't gonna skip an episode of Game Changer just because Brennan isn't there. Watcher has only a few shows and they don't even put things out weekly. And other than Ryan and Shane no one really remembers who the other casts are. Even Steven is like meh to a lot of people, and you can tell just by looking at the views on their shows not including Ryan and Shane, the views are much MUCH lower than stuff like Ghost Files and Puppet History. You can even compare it to Roosterteeth who also started on a separate paid channel. Even they had a huge cast and though it got worst over the years they still kept their main cast front and center and made free content on YouTube for years and premium content was a separate show that didnt affect the youtube scene for a long time until 2020 where it all went downhill. Watcher is literally dropping YouTube altogether and moving to a paid platform and not touching YouTube ever again.
So Watcher:
1) doesn't make content regularly enough to be worth the high cost of their subscription
2) has only a handful of casts that would even interest people to move
3) is dropping YouTube entirely even though their audience was born from people watching them solely on YouTube
Of course people are gonna to be mad. These are the people who saw their potential during their buzzfeed unsolved days and gave them the support to make their own company as Watcher. Without these YouTube fans Watcher would not be where it is today. Dropping YouTube entirely and put on such an expensive paywall is just the dumbest narsarcistic thing they could think of when the economy is literally crumbling and their audience is made out of younger people. Idk who in Watcher thought this was a good idea, but clearly they need to learn from the mistakes of Roosterteeth and just don't. Trying to chase after College Humour when they both started in different ways is like trying to put a square into a circle hole. It's never gonna work, and if they try to force it, just like Roosterteeth, it's just gonna break all the work they did to build their company after so many years in a record amount of time.
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neuroticbookworm · 3 months
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Another Thai BL, another Asian parent-child conflict that enrages the audience and yet, is extremely nuanced. I’m gonna try and speak on it as an Asian kid who grew up in the East, but currently lives in the West, carrying complicated feelings on the Asian parenting I received.
I’m seeing a good discourse in the tags from @lurkingshan, @respectthepetty, @bengiyo, @heretherebedork and @williamrikers, among others, on the hypocrisy of a dad who hit his son in anger and is now lecturing him on the importance of controlling one’s actions when angry. I agree with everyone that the dad is being a hypocritical piece of shit. But I do not think that this is a failure in the writing of the show. Quite the opposite, actually. Because of how Ten responds and acts in the face of this hypocrisy.
Ten comes across as belligerent and confrontational in every interaction he has had with his dad, but it is never uncalled for, and he never seeks it out himself. He tries to stay out of his dad and his stepmom/his dad’s girlfriend’s way as much as possible, and only responds in a defensive manner when provoked. And in today’s episode, he even kept himself open enough in the conversation with his dad, despite his anger, to concede and accept a very good point when raised. Ten understands his dad’s hypocrisy but refuses to stoop to the same level of pettiness because he knows being a good partner and a good friend is more important than being right. This is a mark of excellent writing, in my opinion. The main character is fiercely loyal to his partner and his friends and does not let his baggage with his dad cloud his course of action.
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I also see calls for an apology from the dad already brewing in the fandom. And I understand the instinct to want that. It is always so satisfying when mistreated children finally get the apology that’s been long overdue. But it’s rarely this simple in an Asian household. Times are changing faster than most people can in a lifetime, and there are systemic, cultural flaws in how an Asian society understands and teaches parenting. And if we factor in the social, economic, religious lines that heavily influence how an Asian person forms their social circle, it would’ve left these parents with little to no peers who can tell them what they’re doing is wrong. Parents striking their kids is clearly considered evil nowadays, but only a few years ago, it would’ve been a perfectly acceptable response to control a bratty child, on and off screen (and it still is in some Asian cultures).
Now, NONE of what I said above is an excuse to write off the behavior of Ten’s dad as acceptable, just because it’s very Asian. As an Asian who grew up in the East, the demand for an apology does not particularly resonate with me, because Ten and his dad both know that their problems are not gonna go away as soon as Ten’s dad apologizes. Because:
If Ten starts demanding an apology for every shitty thing his dad has ever done, where should he stop? Should he demand an apology for the time his dad probably struck him as a kid when he was trying to get him to memorize multiplication tables, as is wont of every Asian parent ever (it is such an ubiquitous experience to Asian kids everywhere that there are reels with millions of views on IG, referencing this experience. Does this mean every Asian parent is evil and must be put on trial by their kids? Holy moly, think of all the money therapists would make if every Asian kid in the world decided to call out their parents on their shit. Entire economies would crumble to dust from the sudden disruption in cashflow.)
Is an apology going to comfort Ten? Asian parenting warps the sense of self of both the parents and the kids, because of the levels of abject sacrifice involved in it. It is extremely possible that Ten’s dad had worked day and night to provide well for his family, for his son, before Ten’s mom fell ill. It’s the same choice he made for his wife, but in this case, it paid off, because now Ten is financially well taken care of, and he is privileged enough to pursue a career in medicine. If Ten demands an apology from his dad for not being there when his mom was dying, do we know for sure that when he gets that apology, his mind won’t conflate the sacrifices his dad made for him, thus making him feel guilty for forcing someone who clearly cared about him enough to work hard for him, into defeat (look at this rich soup of Asian parenting misery, yum yum yum. I know it’s delicious because I’m paying my therapist weekly to make the broth less spicy).
The dialogue in the show whenever Ten’s mom is brought up and discussed is always very carefully worded:
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Not “because you did not act”, but “because you took so long to act”. Looks like Ten’s dad made a choice that ultimately did not pay off. He cared, and he wanted to do something to save his wife, but whatever he chose to do ultimately did not help. And now she is dead and he has managed to not help and comfort his wife in her final days AND unwittingly traumatize his son with his absence. The show has painted this storyline with enough nuance that I don’t believe we are meant to read Ten’s dad as a simple villain, but rather a father who does care but has made some serious mistakes. This situation is so emotionally complicated and realistically, it’s gonna take years for both of them to find a middle ground. Ten is gonna have to grow up and make a few mistakes of his own in life to develop proper empathy for his dad, and that’s gonna put a couple things into perspective for him (I’m not saying Ten is bound to make mistakes because he is bad. He is going to because shit happens in life and human beings always do better in hindsight than in the moment). And the dad is gonna have to grow old and let his aging body humble him a little and shrink his ego enough to see that he had failed his son by not being emotionally available to deal with their trauma, together.
I’ve been watching Kim’s Convenience, a Canadian sitcom that follows a Korean-Canadian family and their shenanigans. I’m only on S04E02, but there is a father-son conflict at the centre of this show that is still not directly addressed by both the dad and the son. It’s been years (almost a decade, I think) since the son has been driven out of his home by his dad for a dumb mistake he made as a teen. And the way the show works on it is so infuriating, because it is so Asian. It is rarely addressed aloud in the presence of the dad or the son, lest it leads to anger and screaming and storming off. The path to reconciliation is built with mom calling her son for help to fix something in their home because his dad is too stubborn to ask for it. With the son visiting the hospital when the dad had to undergo surgery, and having their first real conversation in years which the dad forgets after waking up from the influence of pain drugs. With the daughter’s old phone passed down to the dad with her brother’s number on it, which leads to them texting each other. It is all extra frustrating for me because I’m extremely straightforward in my conversations with my parents. I do not like ambiguous endings to verbal conflicts because they are a ticking time bomb and I do not have the capacity to forget its existence and let it tick away in the background. But, I understand it when my friends, and Asian characters in TV shows, don’t want to force things out in the open if it can be swept under the rug for the time being, because peace of mind in Asian households is fleeting and you would be wise to take what you get.
Good TV shows can best serve their audience when they serve their characters, and stay true to the experiences of the people they are trying to represent. My teen ass was regularly shocked, appalled and intrigued by the sexual liberation promised by Western media I consumed while I was in school and college. I was surrounded by a sexually repressed society that was convinced that the only moral way to enjoy pleasure was after marriage with your partner. And very predictably, this means a lot of dead bedrooms, unhappy marriages and kids growing up with no real understanding of what romantic love looks like. I would’ve never had the courage to move my entire life to the West, if the Western media I watched had not represented its people in all their messy, horny glory, albeit with a rose-tinted lens on gender, race and sexuality.
Some Asian parents in media need to fall at the feet of their children and apologize. I remember being absolutely fucking enraged while @lurkingshan and I watched Double Savage at the behest of our friend @waitmyturtles, and in the finale, Korn was the one who fell at the feet of his absolute piece of shit of a dad to apologize for FUCKING NOTHING. And after Shan and I were done surviving that show, I remember telling my friends that most Asian media does not have strong writing whenever Asian children need to defy their shitty parents and come to terms with their destructive parenting, because chances are, most Asian creators would not have successfully done it. Hence, intergenerational trauma (gasp! It’s all connected!).
So. I would never demand to see Ten’s dad apologize to him to consider Cooking Crush a successful show, because that is not the cultural context this story operates in. Would I enjoy it if he does? Hell yes. Would I be mad if he does not? No, because Ten is proving him wrong time and again, and that’s a constant reminder from the narrative of who is in the right.
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circinuus · 8 months
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TW. chapter 109 and bungou stray dogs. angst angst angst. sad.
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You've always wondered what you would do in the last moments before the world caves in.
Gaze into the sunset as the economy falls into ruin? Find a good book as humanity morphs into mindless monsters?
Run and fight for the love of your life?
You weren't sure. You've never been. Everything passed by like the sigh of dawn. Hasn't it been, always? You were having an outing with him. He was smiling, and you were too. Then he was gone. Then everyone else was gone. Then the world started to crumble, and you are left with nothing but blisters on your feet and soul.
Was there even anything left? Of this world and of this sick death maze? Of this twisted war and of the reality that you've all lost?
Nothing.
Nothing?
No, there was something. Your everything.
That was why you run. That was why you're here. Are you not?
You run you run you run. You don't care. You don't care. About the cracked walls, the blood staining the floor, the calamity that might as well struck the world by now. You don't care about all that. One thing only rings in your mind.
Dazai.
Dazai. Dazai. Dazai. The curious shell of a man. The pitiful, lonely man. The man you love.
Then you find him.
There he lays against a cold white wall. Deformed, broken, splashed with cracks and glistening maroon and oh God!-
It was sick. Horrifying. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
He just sits there. Why is he just sitting there? In front of him stands a person. No, you don't care. Your mind only rings about one thing. Dazai. Dazai. He is alright. He must be. He always has. This must be wrong.
So you ran. Like all your life depended on it. Maybe it did. Your life is his life. You are his. He is yours. The man in front of him resembles someone you know. A vacant gaze in his eyes. A gun in his hands. But it doesn't matter. None of it does. In your mind only rings one thing.
"Dazai?" you whisper. tentative, scared. His warmth in your cradle is familiar. But not the seeping coldness. not the dampness of the crimson.
"Dazai? Dazai?" his cheek is cold and for a split second, his eyelids seem to flutter. But even your gaze is getting blurry. What of? Of tears? But why? Dazai is alright. He always is.
A slight squeeze on your arm. He is too frail. Has he always been? That doesn't matter.
He is alright. You will help. You will help him.
"You'll be okay," you whisper again as you appraise his wounds. "You'll be okay," you choke as you realize his broken bones.
"You'll be okay," you rip a piece of your own, bloodied and tattered clothing, desperately dressing up whatever mess out of his body. "You'll be okay," you appraise him, again, perhaps to convince him once more. Or to convince you. It doesn't matter. None of it does.
He looks so frail. Hasnt he always? But he looks too frail you feel the beats of your heart escaping you.
"I'm sorry." you press another piece of ripped fabric into his wound." I'm sorry." The wound on his shoulder continues to bleed. It must've hurt. "I'm sorry." Then you patch the one on his side. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Dazai hated pain. It must've hurt. It must've hurt. "I'm sorry."
Then you stop at the wound on his brow.
"I'm sorry, darling."
And maybe, at that point, you felt like your life is spent, too.
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this took more time than I thought. i haven't written anything properly these days qwq (and i don't know if you guys rmb but) thank you @white-heartt @extemporeies @muderdrones! for encouraging the completion of this piece heh
♡ taglist @ashthemadwriter
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nyaskitten · 9 months
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btw there's absolutely NOTHING wrong with an adult living with their parents.
whoever started pushing that idea should go fuck themselves and whoever shames you for living with your parents, in an economy where doing otherwise is only possible if you make like 6 figures a year just for a small house, they can also go fuck themselves!
why the fuck would someone, in an unstable economy where the prices are rising and rising, and slowly societal classes are just crumbling and shifting into just the super-rich and literally everyone else, want to move out if they know they'd struggle to keep themselves fed every day?
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All the books I reviewed in 2023 (Graphic Novels)
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Next Tuesday (December 5), I'm at Flyleaf Books in Chapel Hill, NC, with my new solarpunk novel The Lost Cause, which 350.org's Bill McKibben called "The first great YIMBY novel: perceptive, scientifically sound, and extraordinarily hopeful."
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It's that time of year again, when I round up all the books I reviewed for my newsletter in the previous year. I posted 21 reviews last year, covering 31 books (there are two series in there!). I also published three books of my own last year (two novels and one nonfiction). A busy year in books!
Every year, these roundups remind me that I did actually manager to get a lot of reading done, even if the list of extremely good books that I didn't read is much longer than the list of books I did read. I read many of these books while doing physiotherapy for my chronic pain, specifically as audiobooks I listened to on my underwater MP3 player while doing my daily laps at the public pool across the street from my house.
After many years of using generic Chinese waterproof MP3s players – whose quality steadily declined over a decade – I gave up and bought a brand-name player, a Shokz Openswim. So far, I have no complaints. Thanks to reader Abbas Halai for recommending this!
https://shokz.com/products/openswim
I load up this gadget with audiobook MP3s bought from Libro.fm, a fantastic, DRM-free alternative to Audible, which is both a monopolist and a prolific wage-thief with a documented history of stealing from writers:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff
All right, enough with the process notes, on to the reviews!
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GRAPHIC NOVELS
I. Shubiek Lubiek by Deena Mohamed
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An intricate alternate history in which wishes are real, and must be refined from a kind of raw wish-stuff that has to be dug out of the earth. Naturally, this has been an important element of geopolitics and colonization, especially since the wish-stuff is concentrated in the global south, particularly Egypt, the setting for our tale. The framing device for the trilogy is the tale of three "first class" wishes: these are the most powerful wishes that civilians are allowed to use, the kind of thing you might use to cure cancer or reverse a crop-failure.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/11/your-wish/#is-my-command
II. Ducks by Kate Beaton
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In 2005, Beaton was a newly minted art-school grad facing a crushing load of student debt, a debt she would never be able to manage in the crumbling, post-boom economy of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. Like so many Maritimers, she left the home that meant everything for her to travel to Alberta, where the tar sands oil boom promised unmatched riches for anyone willing to take them. Beaton's memoir describes the following four years, as she works her way into a series of oil industry jobs in isolated company towns where men outnumber women 50:1 and where whole communities marinate in a literally toxic brew of carcinogens, misogyny, economic desperation and environmental degradation. The story that follows is – naturally – wrenching, but it is also subtle and ambivalent. Beaton finds camaraderie with – and empathy for – the people she works alongside, even amidst unimaginable, grinding workplace harassment that manifests in both obvious and glancing ways.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/14/hark-an-oilpatch/#kate-beaton
III. Justice Warriors by Matt Bors
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Justice Warriors is what you'd get if you put Judge Dredd in a blender with Transmetropolitan and set it to chunky. The setup: the elites of a wasted, tormented world have retreated into Bubble City, beneath a hermetically sealed zone. Within Bubble City, everything is run according to the priorities of the descendants of the most internet-poisoned freaks of the modern internet, click- and clout-chasing mushminds full of corporate-washed platitudes about self-care, diversity and equity, wrapped around come-ons for sugary drinks and dubious dropshipper crapola. It's a cop buddy-story dreamed up by Very Online, very angry creators who live in a present-day world where reality is consistently stupider than satire.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/22/libras-assemble/#the-uz
IV. Roaming by Jillian Tamaki and Mariko Tamaki
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The story of three young Canadian women meeting up for a getaway to New York City. Zoe and Dani are high-school best friends who haven't seen each other since they graduated and decamped for universities in different cities. Fiona is Dani's art-school classmate, a glamorous and cantankerous artist with an affected air of sophistication. It's a dizzying, beautifully wrought three-body problem as the three protagonists struggle with resentments and love, sex and insecurity. The relationships between Zoe, Dani and Fiona careen wildly from scene to scene and even panel to panel, propelled by sly graphic cues and fantastically understated dialog.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/11/as-canadian-as/#possible-under-the-circumstances
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Like I said, this has been a good year in books for me, and it included three books of my own:
I. Red Team Blues (novel, Tor Books US, Head of Zeus UK)
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Martin Hench is 67 years old, single, and successful in a career stretching back to the beginnings of Silicon Valley. He lives and roams California in a very comfortable fully-furnished touring bus, The Unsalted Hash, that he bought years ago from a fading rock star. He knows his way around good food and fine drink. He likes intelligent women, and they like him back often enough. Martin is a—contain your excitement—self-employed forensic accountant, a veteran of the long guerilla war between people who want to hide money, and people who want to find it. He knows computer hardware and software alike, including the ins and outs of high-end databases and the kinds of spreadsheets that are designed to conceal rather than reveal. He’s as comfortable with social media as people a quarter his age, and he’s a world-level expert on the kind of international money-laundering and shell-company chicanery used by Fortune 500 companies, mid-divorce billionaires, and international drug gangs alike. He also knows the Valley like the back of his hand, all the secret histories of charismatic company founders and Sand Hill Road VCs. Because he was there at all the beginnings. Now he’s been roped into a job that’s more dangerous than anything he’s ever agreed to before—and it will take every ounce of his skill to get out alive.
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865847/red-team-blues
II. The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation (nonfiction, Verso)
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We can – we must – dismantle the tech platforms. We must to seize the means of computation by forcing Silicon Valley to do the thing it fears most: interoperate. Interoperability will tear down the walls between technologies, allowing users to leave platforms, remix their media, and reconfigure their devices without corporate permission. Interoperability is the only route to the rapid and enduring annihilation of the platforms. The Internet Con is the disassembly manual we need to take back our internet.
https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con
III. The Lost Cause (novel, Tor Books US, Head of Zeus UK)
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For young Americans a generation from now, climate change isn't controversial. It's just an overwhelming fact of life. And so are the great efforts to contain and mitigate it. Entire cities are being moved inland from the rising seas. Vast clean-energy projects are springing up everywhere. Disaster relief, the mitigation of floods and superstorms, has become a skill for which tens of millions of people are trained every year. The effort is global. It employs everyone who wants to work. Even when national politics oscillates back to right-wing leaders, the momentum is too great; these vast programs cannot be stopped in their tracks.
But there are still those Americans, mostly elderly, who cling to their red baseball caps, their grievances, their huge vehicles, their anger. To their "alternative" news sources that reassure them that their resentment is right and pure and that "climate change" is just a giant scam. And they're your grandfather, your uncle, your great-aunt. And they're not going anywhere. And they’re armed to the teeth. The Lost Cause asks: What do we do about people who cling to the belief that their own children are the enemy? When, in fact, they're often the elders that we love?
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865939/the-lost-cause
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I wrote nine books during lockdown, and there's plenty more to come. The next one is The Bezzle, a followup to Red Team Blues, which comes out in February:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle
While you're waiting for that one, I hope the reviews above will help you connect with some excellent books. If you want more of my reviews, here's my annual roundup from 2022:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/01/bookishness/#2022-in-review
Here's my book reviews from 2021:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/08/required-ish-reading/#bibliography
And here's my book reviews from 2020:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/08/required-reading/#recommended-reading
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It's EFF's Power Up Your Donation Week: this week, donations to the Electronic Frontier Foundation are matched 1:1, meaning your money goes twice as far. I've worked with EFF for 22 years now and I have always been - and remain - a major donor, because I've seen firsthand how effective, responsible and brilliant this organization is. Please join me in helping EFF continue its work!
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/01/bookmaker/#2023-in-review
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flamingo-writes · 10 months
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imagine this scenario with me flamingo, hobie(SP) and reader(daffodil) frequently going to needy neighborhoods and making small appearances to raise people's spirits, Hobie for his part playing his guitar and reader created beautiful pieces of art as well as different edible plants such as apples, lemons, etc.
How is this request making me fall even harder for Hobie? How are you doing this??? HOW!!
Listen, this made me so soft 🥺
FNSM — Hobie x Reader
A/N: At this point I should make a master list with everything regarding the Daffodil universe(?). A book recommendation, exactly last year around this time I read Pussy Riot by Nadya Tolokonnikova. It’s basically a How To Punk as told from Nadya’s perspective (a very punk woman if you ask me, I absolutely love her). It’s beautiful and encouraging. It’s very optimistic despite punk ideologies revolving around oppression and corruption. This book worked also as an inspiration for this fic.
Warnings: mentions of stealing,
Word count:
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Hobie took very seriously his epithet of “Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man”, so much he had it painted on his vest. He did everything he could to protect those in need, to raise his voice for those who were shunned, to fight for those who were scared.
If he didn’t stand up not only against bad guys but the “good” guys as well, then who was going to do it? In this late capitalist world, the ecological crisis, resources running short, crumbling economy, it was hard to remain hopeful about the future. Hobie made it his mission to keep people hoping.
And since you developed your abilities, Hobie saw the potential right away. You could grow plants and trees! That meant growing vegetables and fruits! Even some sorts of cereals! And after realising he’d never have to buy tea or coffee ever again thanks to you, he thought it would be good to extend that same opportunity to others.
Stealing wasn’t something new to Hobie, in fact, he had quite the sleight of hand. Effortlessly pick pocketing and stealing stuff right in the middle of a crowd. Making a living as an artist was already hard. Since Spider-Man and Daffodil made their services also for free, food wasn’t something that wasn’t precisely abundant in your life —at least not until you developed your abilities— and the two of you more often than not stole from large supermarkets where realistically, the supermarket had very little to lose. However, you never stole from local farmers, and when you had a good month and managed to make more money than expected, you’d return the money to the working class and not a corporation. When you could afford it, the local market was your go to option. When you couldn’t, stealing from supermarkets was it.
However, stealing fruits and vegetables was now out of the way. Now you started stealing other things, dairy, meat, some spices, even snacks. Most of what you stole, now that your life was easier in this aspect, both Spider-Man and Daffodil started making a lot more frequent appearances in poor neighbourhoods, or any neighbourhood that screamed low income work class. Not only to help them by bringing food to them, but also bringing some sort of happiness or excitement to their lives.
Spider-Man brought his band, and managed to set up a gig with all the bare minimum materials. Daffodil created pieces of art with plants. And even covered the streets with fruit trees or fruit bushes so the people always had an option. As well as bringing in baskets of food, as well as some other basic stuff, not just fruits and vegetables.
God, was it rewarding. Seeing the faces of all those people light up. Banging to the music. Enjoying the fruit. Chilling by the trees. It was all so rewarding and refreshing. It definitely ade everything worthwhile.
One time in particular, it was already known among the people, that these two made appearances in the places they most needed them. People were starting to talk about both Spider-Man and Daffodil and what their relationship was. We’re you two just friends? Partners in crime? Perhaps even a couple? It didn’t really matter at the end of the day, all of these people felt incredibly indebted to them. This one neighbourhood had been enjoying of a couple of hours of Spider-Man playing live, and Daffodil growing fruits and veggies everywhere.
While you were immersed in your own job, finishing growing some bushes, seeing everyone taking berries from them, and making more grow, you heard Hobie’s voice beginning to say his goodbyes to the crowd.
"I know you were all enjoying this, trust me, I did too, but sadly, I’ve got more things to do. We’ll be playing one more before we go!” He said, his voice seen and confident as always. "Before that, I’d like a nice round of applause for my beautiful Daffy here, invaluable help, without her, this would be a lot more work for me. She does most of the job here, really!" You said as you turned around and looked at the stage. "Where are you, Daffy, luv?” He asked as you made a tall tree grow. "There she is! Everyone, round of applause for Daffy!”
He then proceeded to introduce and thank his band members. You kept staring at him, feeling yourself blush underneath your mask. Just like him, your own suit concealed the entirety of your identity, by Hobie’s recommendation. And right now, you thanked the mask otherwise everyone would see you blushing. And before Spider-Man finished playing, you caught up with him on the stage. As the crowd went wild, you walked up to one of the mics, taking Hobie by surprise as he didn’t k on you were already there.
"Let’s hear it from our friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Everyone!” You said excitedly.
Hobie pulled you by the waist, closer to him and hugged you. People yelling even louder.
"Thank you for helping me out," He whispered. "Fantastic job," He said bumping his forehead against yours.
After you returned home, exhausted from all the work done that day, you hopped into the shower, while Hobie fell asleep almost like a magic spell as soon as he touched the pillow. The last time you’d checked the time, it was sticking blurry numbers past midnight. And time seemed to blend in together, squeezing tightly, as one moment you swore you were helping Hobie set everything up for the gig, and the next you walked out of the shower with Hobie lost somewhere between his 4th and 5th dream.
As usual, Hobie woke up a lot later than you did. As he groaned and dragged himself out of bed, he walked into the kitchen where you were drinking something from a mug and watching the TV. The news we’re covering the latest sightings of Spider-Man and Daffodil. Talking about everything that had happened, the art show, the concert, the food. These people clearly happier with those two than the government who was supposed to watch after them.
"Morning," Hobie said in a low raspy voice.
"Hey," You turned over at him. "How did you sleep?”
“Good. But not enough, watch’a drinkin’?
"Tea," You replied. "Want some?”
“Nah, I’ll go for coffee this morning…"
"It’s 2 pm, love" you giggled.
"Morning still…" He joked walking up to your chair as you looked up. Hobie leaned down and pressed a sweet peck on your lips. "I’ll make some coffee…" He purred. "What are the news saying?”
“That we stick our noses where we shouldn’t, according to that prick Jameson, but everyone in the neighbourhood is actually delighted…"
"Good," Hobie yawned. "Fuck that dickhead, I’m glad people liked it,"
108 notes · View notes
eunoiaaaivy · 11 months
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PREMIUM ECONOMY: A TRIP TO LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA WITH KAGAMI TAIGA! @vespersposts
╰┈➤thank you for visiting eunoia airlines! ah! another great trip for the lovable you! enjoy this trip with your love one as you roam around la with them! we hope you'll enjoy this trip and come back again!
songs to listen to: i. ii. iii. iv. v.
WARNING!! THIS CONTAINS SUGGESTIVE CONTENT, BEWARE I DON'T WRITE SMUT. JUST SUGGESTIVE FICS, AND THIS IS ONE SUGGESTIVE FIC. I HAVE CONSENT POSTING THIS FROM MY BEST FRIEND. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
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D IS FOR DANGEROUS
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cw: a bit suggestive, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption, a tinge of jealousy, mentions of insecurities, fluff, pet names (doll, love, baby, babe.)
a/n: IM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAYED POST, MY MENTAL WAS JUST NOT IN THE RIGHT PLACE TO WRITE. IT WENT LIKE THIS 📈📉📈📉📈📉📈📉📉📉📈📉📈😭😭😭😭😭
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kagami sipped on his wine glass, the taste gliding along his tongue. he felt the way it burned his throat a bit but his gaze was only focused on one person. you.
rather it was the person you're talking to.
you both went to los angeles for his game that was a few days away, and a concert of the arctic monkeys the week after. not this.
you were chattering all and about, yet he could feel the way his nerves were irking as he gripped the wine glass tighter. kagami burnt holes on the back of the man's head, somewhere within himself denying what he was feeling. jealousy.
he knew it was a contagious disease but he couldn't help it. why would he when kagami had you?
the booming music through this small bar-club typa building didn't even help at all. he could see from a few meters away his teammates, aomine with his girl, akaashi inspecting his surroundings, midorima sipping his drink with a distasteful look, murasikabara not having a care in the world as he was chewing the cherry and kuroko trying to stop kise from chugging down another drink. then he sees you.
talking to a man.
you suddenly came in to his life and stole his heart.
he had you, and you had him. your fingers wrapped around each other as your feelings were confessed on that night before.
kagami feels special as he looks at you, you were chortling and he couldn't even care about the man.
it made him feel special at the thought that you chose him out of everyone.
he felt so lucky, as if he just won a lottery prize as you cheer for him at his game, making him attain victory. he never knew were it started but you were the very person he needed.
the woman he loves who was the brightest star in his universe, a trophy that nobody has but him. to kagami, you were the river flowing down in a slow steady ocean in amsterdam. to kagami, you were the very air he breathes. the one who steadies him on the ground as the world crumbles behind him. you were his home.
kagami believed that love was an emotion that was passionate, something that everybody has to wait for. but when he looks at you, he can't help but be proud of the way he suddenly confessed his feelings back then. (albeit embarrassing to him.)
he could still remember the way your lips first felt like against his, hovering as if there's no tomorrow. kagami could still remember the way you wrapped him around your finger, forever stealing his heart as he did with yours.
it felt like yesterday, when the both of you were walking and he suddenly had the urge to clasped his hands around your much smaller ones. the beating of his heart against his ribcage and the clammy feeling of his hands wasn't something he'd forget. ever.
it already was embedded in his head the moment your delicate hands were wrapped around his calloused ones.
kagami could never forget this feeling. he will never forget the way he would get all jittery and nervous with the way you smile at him, or with the way you reserved a soft spot in your heart for him. like the way you did with yours, he had an even more softer spot for you.
anyone could see his gaze, kuroko was really wet from the rain yet he offered you his umbrella, leaving his light-blue haired partner sneezing the next day.
kagami could feel this feeling wouldn't fade. it was like you were his very memory his brain muscle can never forget, maybe like a broken record replaying over and over in his head.
it was no lie that you were really beautiful, yet a mystery to everyone. they couldn't fathom what was so different about you. they were intimidated with the way you gaze at them, yet the red hair saw nothing so different.
you were so perfect in his eyes.
everything, every moment and every second spent with you feels like time is slowing down. the laugh, the smiles, the echos of it all- you slow down time.
kagami could feel it, he feels like a kid- the happiness, the innocent touches, and the adrenaline rush. everything about it was so special to him.
it was like butterflies were the things he ate in the morning as he hears your laugh, even when his joke was so unfunny.
love consumed him. everybody could tell.
but what do they know?
do they know how you brighten up his day and make him so fuzzy? does everyone know that you make kagami so weak in the knees for you as you whisper sweet-nothings in to his ear as the monsters of insecurities come back crawling to him? would everyone know that your lips against kagami felt so right to him? that it felt so good?
you're the blood running along his veins, the pulse through his life. the heart his yearns for and has, and the way it pumped out with so much adrenaline and blood filling up his body. you're the seratonin that makes him much more happier and much more lively.
you were the adrenaline that rushed across his whole body as he plays basketball and he could hear, see you in the stands cheering wearing his jersey on. you were the the iron streaming along his blood. the one that functioned his heart beat everyday.
oh gosh, no dopamine swarming in his head can conquer his happy days with you.
and it makes him warm and fuzzy that you chose him. out of everyone. you could've chosen somebody rich and more good looking than him. somebody more who has self-control and discipline. but it goes all away out the window as you tell him "i love you and only you."
it feels like he won the lottery ticket that can conquer all his bills. yet he knows this isn't just a lottery ticket he won.
to kagami, you were much more than that. you were worth everything.
kagami could feel his jaw slacking as he sees you smile at the man. you know he's looking, yet you were teasing him with this.
clearly, you had no likes for the man. the wedding ring against your ring finger says so.
kagami knows your his. and only his.
but this man was no ordinary man, he could see the way this random man was looking you up and down. he even ignored kagami's presence when he walked up to you and dragged you away from where you were!
having enough of teasing the love of your life, you sauntered your way over to him with a smirk he's all too familiar with. that teasing smile of yours only pumping him up.
making your way to him, you let out a short chuckle with the way his arms immediately wrapped around your waist, wine long forgotten as he placed it on the side. he lowers his face to the crook of your neck where he could feel your pulse surging as he placed a lazy kiss over it, making you gulp and sigh from the sensation.
" were ya teasing me back there doll?" kagami mutters out lowly, face nearing below your collarbone. "if you're trying to make me jealous then it's working. you win the game now." his voice on your collarbone sent vibrations throughout your whole body as he placed another even more lazy kiss.
carding your way through his red tussles of hair, you chuckled at his admit of defeat, making him groan even more as his body came back to his full height. "aww, is my poor taiga jealous?" you teased out as you sent him a wide grin, only to receive a low growl from him.
"ofcourse i am, did you see the way he was looking at you? it was like he was a predator! i was ready to come swoop you out there!" taiga whisper-shouted in your ear as the grin on your face only widened.
"aw, but you know im only yours right?" you muttered out near his lips as your arms wrapped around his neck pulled him down to your height. breath fanning over his, making him groan lowly against your lips as you didn't make the move kissing him.
kagami's hand immediately went to the base of your neck, pushing it forward as your lips crashed on his. the kiss was sweet at first, which quickly turned passionate as he pulled you closer, hands around his neck as he circles small shapes at your sides.
kagami let's out a small groan as he feels you tug his crimson tussles, hands on your waist tightened more if that was even possible. you feel yourself move, kiss not breaking yet even when your back collided with the wall.
his teeth tugged at your bottom lip, biting it as you let out an incoherent sound. the loud sound of music filled both your ears but you didn't care as you tasted the wine he drank from before, you could feel his body all over yours.
taiga was so warm, like this kiss you were sharing. his hands being placed next to your head to the wall as his whole figure covered you from the view of the man you were talking to- paying him no mind.
your lover gave you no space to breathe as he pulled away but as immediately as he pulled away, he kissed you again. it was dangerous game to play like this with kagami-the jealousy of this man was really contagious.
but you loved the sensation he sent through your body as he places a few wet kisses on your jaw, making you sigh from the sensation as he lowered himself up to your neck to press more fervent kisses there before staring up at you.
"i wonder what goes through your mind, doll." taiga started as he finally went up to his full height. his red eyes stared at yours, eyeing you as if you were a prey as you stared back at him.
you hummed out as his hands went back to your waist, circling shapes around it as your hands were still wrapped around him. "you know how to rile me up. do you always have to do that so that you could get a big kiss from me? you could just ask me, you know?" he curiously asked, music so loud.
He knew what he wanted to say
But he didn't know how to word it
The dirty little Herbert was seeking an escape
The guiltiness that started
Soon as the other part had stopped
you smirked up at him, a glint in your eyes as you stared at him through your lashes. "baby what's the fun in that? plus you look hot when you're aggressive." you said out to him as he growled once more, tugging your waist as he lowered his face near your face again.
D is for delightful
And try and keep your trousers on
I think you should know you're his favourite worst nightmare
"if you wanted that then you could've said so, baby." kagami said so lowly near your ear, breath fanning over you ear lobe, making your face flush as he places his head on your shoulder.
you could feel taiga chuckle against your skin as it sent vibrations throughout your whole body, leaving you speechless. "speechless right now babe? im sure that man would've loved to hear more words from your mouth." he added as you groaned, face flushing as you buried your face on his toned chest.
"stop teasing taiga!" you squeaked out, face still flushed against his chest as kagami chuckled more. "but you did that to me, love. one can play the game too." he muttered out as you looked at him, cheeks coated with tinges of pink. kagami's smirk grew wider as he saw your face. victory.
"okay fine. you win!" you blurted out as he laughed, the sound making the flowers bloom once more in your chest. "that's what i thought. never knew los angeles was going to be fun this season!" he laughed out again, you soon joining as he left a small peck on your forehead.
los angeles was indeed fun this season.
and so was the kiss you shared with kagami.
d was really for dangerous.
you couldn't wait for more.
147 notes · View notes
tiffanytoms · 7 months
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Fuck the Rich
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Sooo, I wrote a smutty little one-shot (you can read here or on A03)
Thank you to @athenasparrow for her lovely ✨ Smut Sprinkle ✨ of bending ppl over counters 😉 It really got Lily going 😆
Rating: E Word Count: 11.5k
Warning: Long lead up and then pretty fucking filthy. Lily is super bitter and jaded here — basically what I see could have happened if she’d never given James a chance. And… rich ppl bashing? Is that something I have to warn about? Is that a plus? Again, I dunno, you decide. 🤷🏼‍♀️
Read story after the line ↓
Fuck, she hated rich people. 
Lily grimaced to herself as she followed the frail, old lady through the halls of her larger than life mansion situated here on this vast, sprawling estate. The woman had had the audacity to look at her watch when Lily arrived (at exactly her scheduled start time) as if she was trying to ‘politely’ admonish her for being late. The funny thing about rich people was they loved ‘joking’ that your pay should be docked if you were even a second past the hour, but never seemed to think you should be compensated if you showed up twenty minutes early and they insisted you get to work right away. ‘Because, well, if you’re already here anyway!’
That’s why Lily had started showing up precisely when her paycheck began raking in Galleons. With Apparation, it was just so easy to do. Why give anyone her free labor? This job wasn’t even her passion — it was just her means of keeping her (small, crumbling, hardly suitable) roof over her head.
Fuck. She shouldn’t be thinking like this. Being a chef wasn’t that bad. Honestly, Lily would even enjoy it if she didn’t feel like it was a job she was forced into out of sheer necessity. What was even the point of graduating the top of her class at Hogwarts if no one was hiring her kind? Ahem, let her rephrase that, people without experience who also, just so happened — weird coincidence really, definitely don’t quote us — to be Muggle-born. Lily had watched rejection after rejection owl in from all the prestigious potion companies, followed by the average ones, and then even from the potion shop down the street from her. It turned out a handwritten letter of recommendation from Professor Slughorn himself couldn’t convince the owner of Pop-Up Potions that hiring Lily was worth the possible Death Eater retaliatory attack. 
Lily wished that people understood that ‘staying out of it’ was very much still picking a side. And that side was the wrong one. 
So, Lily had licked her wounds and tried not to get more and more bitter as all her friends, and enemies, found jobs she would have killed for while she had to scramble for gig economy work. Eventually, she was hired as a chef for a luxury catering company. It worked because she was kept out of sight in the kitchens, and the clients were never the same (but always so insanely wealthy), so no one had to worry about being attacked for employing an undesirable. At first, Lily didn’t understand why the families that hired her didn’t just use their house-elves’ cooking, but she supposed that everyone wanted to try new dishes every now and again. (And a darker, more cynical side of her wondered if these rich prats secretly got off on making other humans serve them.)
Lily got to use her potions skills, but instead of making life-saving brews like she wanted to, she was using her magic to make the best damn five course meal of these people’s lives — all by herself. Who needed a sous chef when you had a wand? 
The best part of her job was the pride that came from seeing all her food, all lined up and ready to go, and knowing it was scrumptious and she could replicate it again for herself at home — even though it would have to be with slightly less expensive ingredients. The worst part was knowing sometimes her creations were going to feed the very same people who were pushing her to the outskirts of society. She would never forget the day she accidentally overheard some of her clients say how ‘Muggle-born rights had gone too far.’ It was insane to think that she was somehow good enough to make them their food, but apparently not good enough for anything else. Their logic was infuriating.
And that’s how she ended up here: following this lady through the maze of her home, being told ‘not to touch anything — it’s all antique family heirlooms.’
It’s all Merlin-awfully hideous, is what it is. Why this lady was convinced that Lily would want to run off with her gold-framed oil painting of a basket of fruit was so beyond her. 
“And here we are!” the lady announced, pushing open the swinging door to her gigantic kitchen. “I’m sure the house-elves are around here somewhere if you need help finding anything.” Lily knew what that meant: don’t ask me because I’ve literally never used this kitchen before in my life so I wouldn’t even know where we keep the spoons. She turned to leave, but then stopped dramatically. “Oh! The countertops are Italian marble, so they—”
“Stain instantly,” Lily finished for her. She would never understand this. Why on earth would anyone ever pay a premium to install a surface into their kitchen that made it practically unusable? Even a mere drop of lemon juice could forever tarnish the damn entire slab. Because they’re not the ones who have to use it, Lily. You and the house-elves are… “Not to worry,” Lily said out loud as she swished her wand, covering all the counters in a shiny film of magic. “This will protect it.”
The old lady’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”
Another thing Lily just loved about rich people? They always assumed the help was so, so dumb. “Yes. Please don’t worry. I’ve done this countless times. Your counters will be spotless when I leave.”
The lady nodded, either mollified by Lily’s words or by the knowledge that she could simply sue Lily’s company for new marble countertops afterwards, and left out the door. 
Lily let out a huge sigh of relief, glad to finally be alone. She opened her tote bag and began emptying out all her coolers before magicking them back to size. If she recalled correctly, tonight’s event was an engagement party — so while the food was always expected to be delicious, tonight its presentation had to be absolutely flawless. Basically, the plates would have to look like edible art — but yummy. Always yummy. 
After briefly being greeted by her manager, Lily started on the hors d’oeuvres, laughing a little to herself when she saw the menu choices. Okay, one of the people getting married still had the appetite of a child, because for every high-end option like ‘ahi tuna on a gluten-free wonton crisp topped with a wasabi aioli drizzle’, there was a ‘pig in a blanket with ketchup’ alternative as well. (Truth be told, the appetizers that looked like they belonged on the kids’ menu were always the biggest crowdpleasers. Even with the rich.) She knew which hors d’oeuvres her servers would be fighting to pass tonight. (No one liked having to be the poor sod who had to push ‘goat cheese on a Belgian endive’ on anyone. Coming back to the kitchen with anything other than a completely empty tray was discouraged.)
“Hello, Lil,” Mary, her favorite server and also longtime friend, said as she arrived in the kitchen shortly afterwards. 
Lily embraced her in a quick hug. “Mm, you smell nice.”
“You smell like bacon. What’s on the menu?” 
Lily laughed as she handed it over. “Knock yourself out.”
Mary’s smile dripped off her face seconds later. “Lil… why does this menu say ‘Black Engagement Party’?!”
Lily snatched the sheet back. “Oh bollocks, seriously?” If she had to make a list of all the affluent, entitled Purebloods that she didn’t want to serve, the Blacks would probably be at the top of that list. “I didn’t think they had an estate out here?” She looked around the kitchen as if there would be a bright neon sign that read ‘Food for Purebloods Only’ just lying about.
“I dunno,” Mary said, shrugging her shoulders.
“Hang on, no,” Lily reasoned desperately. “The woman that let me in — she was the lady of the house and I didn’t recognize her.” The Black family loved being in all the society pages of The Prophet. As much as Lily hated to admit it, she would probably be able to identify the lot of them.
Mary’s eyes got large as saucers. “Unless…”
“Quaffle, have you seen—?” Lily didn’t even get to prompt Mary to continue, because just a second later, a handsome, unfairly fit wizard whom Lily hadn’t seen since graduation three years prior ambled into the kitchen. He stuffed a hand into his hair, and Lily hated that she remembered the quirk so well. “Oh. Hey Evans.”
Fuuuuuuccccckkkkk. Lily did a mental replay of her morning routine to recall if she’d put on some makeup, or even paid any attention to her appearance at all. She had not. “Potter,” she replied shortly. 
“Fuck,” Mary whispered the word of the day under her breath before zooming off. Lily assumed she was finding a bathroom where she could compose herself — or have a nervous breakdown. If James Potter was here, then there was a near certain likelihood that the Black who had gotten engaged was Sirius — aka Mary’s ex-boyfriend. Lily’s heart ached for her friend. Was there anything worse than having to serve your ex and his newly beloved? She thought not. 
“She all right?” James asked concerned, looking at the still swinging door that Mary had exited through. 
“She’ll be fine,” Lily lied, covering for her. “Can I help you?”
“Oh, uh,” James said, shifting from one foot to the other, clearly finding himself off-kilter with Lily’s unexpected appearance. “I was just looking for my house-elf.”
Oh. Oh my gods, of course! This is his house! Well. His parents’ house… Lily slowly closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose. She’d known he was rich, but she’d never imagined he was castle-on-the-hill type of wealthy. His whole privileged, popular air at school made so much more sense now. He’d always been annoying, and for a year straight he’d asked her out as a joke, but after she’d temporarily hexed his bollocks off at the end of 5th year (Pomfrey had not been amused), he’d finally gotten the message and steered clear of her. Last Lily heard, he was working for his dad’s potions company — because of course he was. 
“Haven’t seen them,” Lily replied. 
“Right, okay,” James said awkwardly, looking wholly uncomfortable. Lily wondered if he was still a little bit afraid of her. She supposed that would be a reasonable reaction — she doubted anyone else had ever temporarily castrated him. But in her defense, she had told him if he ever asked her out one more time that she would. 
What could Lily say? She was a woman of her word. Her stubborn, stubborn word. 
She took a moment to take him in. There had been a couple of times (okay, maybe more than a couple) her final year at Hogwarts that she’d wondered if she had perhaps made a mistake in rejecting him. He’d obviously matured quite a bit, and honestly, he wasn’t too bad on the eyes…
Well, looking at him now, here in his kitchen, he’d only gotten better. He seemed to have finally found a good hairstyle that worked well with his luscious locks, not too long and not too short, and it let his soft curls have a bit of bounce in all their beautiful disarray. He’d also filled into his formerly lanky body quite nicely, and Lily was definitely noticing the slight strain to his shirt sleeves around his biceps and the cut lines of his forearms. His arms. Honestly, those were probably what did her in the most at school… If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the traitorous sting of jealousy the day Emmeline Vance had leaned over to him across her desk and doodled on one of his arms with her quill. She couldn’t explain back then why her blood had boiled quite so ferociously, but she probably could now… if she thought about it. (She didn’t want to think about it.)
Either way, the same hazel gaze that had peeved her before now pierced, and even in his uncertainty, he was still exuding a confidence that had definitely been lacking before. At school he’d given a boyish performance of arrogance. Now, he simply oozed the self-assurance of a man. And a dangerously sexy one at that.
Fuck, Lily thought for what felt like the thousandth time this evening. She was far too horny to be at work. She hadn’t gotten properly laid in way too long, and clearly it was manifesting itself in strange ways. She’d never slept with any of her clients, obviously, but she’d also never even had any sort of desire to. 
There is no need to start now, she told her body to no avail.
“Do you need anything else?” she asked him. Sure, he lived here, but if there was anything she hated, it was hosts who hovered in her space while she was trying to do her job — handsome hosts or not. (She was telling herself she hated his presence, ooh, she was telling herself that.)
“Nope,” James replied. “Is there anything you need?”
Oh, so many fucking things, and none of them are PG. 
Lily shook her head, trying to clear her unsanctioned, gutter musings. Unfortunately, the follow-up thoughts were not very helpful either. Was this the first time a client had ever offered to help her? Like… with anything? How in the world was it James friggin’ Potter who was showing her more common decency than all the previous pompous wankers combined?
The bar was truly so low. 
Just before she could gape at him for too long, wand hand slightly sagging while attempting to chop her onions, her manager Greg came rushing through the door, looking at his clipboard. “Shit, Rebecca’s just called in sick. We’re gonna be short-staffed tonight. Where’s Mary?”
Lily winced. If there was one rule in catering, it was to never let the guests see you sweat. “In the bathroom?” she said mousily, hoping her tone would convince Greg to look up and realize they weren’t alone.
It did. “Oh! Mr Potter!” Greg schmoozed, his demeanor completely shifting to pleasant and ingratiating. “I didn’t see you there!”
“Oh, you can just call me James,” he said, offering his hand out for Greg to shake. “Mr Potter makes me sound like my father.”
“And what a compliment that must be! I’m Greg. I’m your party’s manager tonight.” 
Barf. Lily didn’t hate that Greg groveled, because she was sure it often got them extra tips, she just hated that he had to. 
James chuckled good-naturedly for Greg's sake while he clapped his hands together. “I feel like since I’m the groom’s best man and live here, I’m duty-bound to be of service. So seriously, if you’re understaffed or need any help tonight, you can always put me to work.”
Greg laughed even though his face said he was crying of mortification on the inside. “No! Nooo, absolutely no need. We got this all under control! Please, don’t let us stop you from getting ready! Everything will go off without a hitch on our end!”
James gave Lily one last good look, making her uneasy and inexplicably twitchy, before giving Greg a nod and leaving. 
Fuck. What was that? And how dare he make her so wet? She was at work!
“Shit!” Greg whispered, breaking Lily’s strange trance. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me we had the goddamn host in the kitchen?!”
Could she point out it wasn’t her job to make her manager open his damn eyes? “Sorry.”
Greg rubbed his forehead. “It’s fine.” He sighed. “Now where’s Mary?”
Lily pointed to the door she’d left through, wanting him to go away so she could have peace. No angry managers, no sultry blasts from the past — simply her and her food. Suddenly the end of this shift couldn’t come fast enough. Sure, she wasn’t ashamed of what she did for work, but she knew that deep down, she wished that the first time she saw James after years wasn’t while cooking at his place for a party that she hadn’t been invited to. Obviously you weren’t invited; you were never a part of that circle! But still: it was weird, and Lily didn’t like it. 
Now if only she could stop thinking about how bloody good he looked, then maybe everything would be okay. 
☆☆☆
“Shit! Shit shit shit shiiiiit!” Greg wheezed, ambling back into the kitchen, not having learnt his lesson and still not looking up, only five minutes later. “Mary says she’s sick and is going home now too! We only have one server for like fifty super upscale guests! This is a disaster!”
“Maybe they both caught the same bug?” Lily fibbed. Rebecca wasn’t a liar, so she probably actually was sick, but Mary deserved someone to have her back today. “We all worked the same party last night.”
Greg looked up at her pointedly. “Don’t you dare get sick on me too. I won’t let you leave. If you vomit, vomit away from the food.”
Ew. “Roger that.”
So half an hour later, Greg and one poor, overworked server were pushing out all the appetizers by themselves while Lily started on the entrees between heating duties.
“The truffle honey brie cups are ready,” Lily said as she heard the door swing open.
“Roger that.”
Lily looked up startled, this time actually dropping her wand. It turned out she too hadn’t learnt from Greg’s mistake. 
It was James. He still says that, she thought (somehow) breathlessly.She’d nearly forgotten that the whole reason she said that silly phrase was because it was practically all he’d ever reply to her at Head meetings when they’d been Head Girl and Boy. She’d started parroting it back to him in jest, but then it had sort of… stuck. 
It was weird to realize all these years later that he’d had any impact on her, even if it was something as small as a slight tweak to her vernacular.
Before Lily could react, he bent down to pick up her wand off the floor, offering it to her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He had changed out of his grey teeshirt and jeans and was now wearing a crisp navy blue button-up, tastefully (albeit cruelly) unbuttoned two notches. He’d always had beautiful, flawless skin, and that still seemed to be the case, although she didn’t think she’d ever seen that particular patch. She’d made a point to never go to Quidditch matches back in school lest she witness any more reasons to regret her decision to reject him. 
“You’re fine,” she said under her breath, trying to ignore the way her fingers had to brush his to take her wand back. Okay, so they hadn’t had to, but she’d wanted them too. Damn, I shouldn’t want to touch him. She turned around to direct all her fingerling potatoes into neat little piles across fifty plates. 
“You doing okay in here?”
“Huh?” Sure, she was a professional, but it still took a lot of concentration to keep so many moving parts going. 
“Are you doing okay?” he repeated. “I figured Mary bounced after she realized this party was for Sirius because… well. You know.”
Lily turned back to face him, finding him tugging at his hair again. He had to stop doing that. It was making her want to do it for him. “Yeah…” Wow, of course he still remembers Mary. She had dated his best mate in school. Naturally, they must have hung out too. If Lily recalled correctly, Mary had tried to persuade her on many occasions that James was actually a decent bloke, but Lily hadn’t wanted to listen. Of course Mary had said that — she was in love with his best friend! She probably wanted some sort of harmony amongst her people or had some silly daydream about double dates and whatnot. Mary had dropped the topic when she’d realized Lily was going to remain obstinate about the whole thing.
She’d truly always been too pigheaded for her own good. 
Lily cleared her throat and tried again. “Yes, we’ll manage just fine. We always do. Sorry you heard all that, but I’m sure your family will be reimbursed for getting less staff than you paid for.”
James’ brows scrunched as he observed her. “Evans,” he began slowly, “it’s me. You don’t have to give me your whole customer service bullshit.” She watched as his pronounced Adam’s apple bobbed with what looked like a parched swallow. "We know each other.”
A shiver ran down Lily’s spine, and like most of the feelings she experienced around this man, she wasn’t quite sure why. Did they? Did they know each other at all?I mean, they’d shared a bunch of classes years ago, but had they ever really talked more than a few jibes here and there? She pushed all the confusion away. “Sorry Potter, but I really need to get these plates ready or else—”
“Then put me to use,” James said simply as he committed the single biggest sexy sin: he deftly popped open his cufflinks before slowly rolling up his sleeves. 
Oh, fuck you. Was he trying to torture her? Kitchens were already notoriously hot enough without James Potter parading himself around like some sort of mouthwatering arm candy. “That’s okay—”
“Seriously, Evans. I don’t know if you remember, but I’m actually quite good at magic.” She really hoped he didn’t notice she was still fixated on his gorgeous hands and forearms. “So go on. Order me about. I remember you really used to love doing that.”
Oh man. Yep. She was still too horny for this — because that? Him telling her to ‘use him’ and ‘boss him around’ was really doing things for her. Deciding it was easier to just put him to work rather than fight him on it, Lily blew a stray strand of hair that had escaped her bun off of her forehead before showing him the correct wandwork for how to place the filet mignon slices in a delightful staggered row. At least this way, she’d have enough time to finish up her sauce.
They worked side by side for some time, Lily wholeheartedly trying to ignore just how much she liked having him there. Sure, watching a man cook was sexy in and of itself, but just…knowing that there was this whole party going on on the other side of that wall, but instead of being there, he was electing to stay and help her? 
Honestly, the whole thing sort of made her want him to bend her over this stupid-ass marble countertop and do her right there. Why could she picture that so easily? Her leggings around her ankles, his hand bracing against the cabinets above her while he pounded into her again and again from behind, bruising her hips as they bumped rhythmically against the counter. She rubbed her thighs together, almost wishing she could feel the soreness that should be there — that would be, if only he let her use him in the manner she so desperately craved.
Fuck, she needed some water. And maybe a cigarette. (She had never even smoked a day in her life.)
“How have you been?” he asked, finally breaking the amicable, if not highly charged, silence between them.
“Fine,” she lied. It was easier to sugarcoat things. She truly doubted he’d ever understand her problems. Why would he? He obviously lived a completely different life. 
He nodded. 
A few seconds later, she realized it was probably really rude if she didn’t at least ask him the same thing back. “And you?”
James looked at her and smiled, a genuinely warm and lovely smile, and Lily felt her heart skip the smallest of beats. “Good, yeah, really good. Happy for Pads of course.”
“Oh yeah,” Lily hummed noncommittally. “Getting married.”
“Yup.”
“That’s crazy.”
“You think so?” he asked her, completely taking her by surprise.
“I mean, yeah,” Lily fumbled. “We’re still quite young…”
James shrugged. “When you know, you know.”
Lily swished her wand and watched as a sprig of rosemary deposited itself onto every piping hot dish, finishing the plates’ perfect appearance. “I guess.”
James folded his arms and turned to her, leaning back against the (far too saucy) counter. “What? You don’t believe in love or something?”
“No, I do.” Why had the question unnerved her so much? Why did she suddenly feel so defensive?
“We’re just too young?” he pushed.
Lily’s eyes shot up to his with his choice of words. We aren’t anything, at least not together — not in that sense. But the more she saw his eyes shining through his glasses, challenging, twinkling with mischievous mirth, the more she decided she was so down to bang him. The thought had morphed from a naughty daydream to a full-blown mission in record time, but screw it, we are young. Wasn’t youth all about making mistakes and doing what you wanted? She was horny, and if he was anything like he was at school, he was probably also down, so why the fuck not? She’d probably never see him again, so as far as no-strings attached hookups went, he was probably the best she was going to get. Besides, she wanted to shag him. Like, really, truly wanted to have him blow out her back and break her mind from how hard she wanted him to fuck her. Shouldn’t that be reason enough?
It was just sex.
Fuck it, let’s fuck him. 
Now all she had to do was glean if he was actually down — but come on, he was spending like a quarter of this party with her; this had to be his motive. Get in her good graces so he could get in her pants — it was practically what he’d tried to do back at Hogwarts, but he hadn’t been as smooth back then. Or maybe she just hadn’t been this desperate, who knew? 
Then, once she was sure he was game, she had to figure out how to make it happen.
“Shouldn’t you be out at the party doing best man duties?” she fished.
James’ eyes dropped to her lips and back before his own slipped into a smirk. “He’s so wrapped all over Aya right now, I doubt he’s even noticed I’m gone.”
Oooh, so that’s it. Lily held back a scoff. Weddings always had a special way of making single people feel lonely as hell. Lily was cool with that. If he wanted to fuck away his wedding-related blues and she wanted a good lay to make her temporarily forget all the injustices of the world, that sounded like a win-win to her. 
“Lily are the—” 
Lily hadn’t even realized her lower lip was between her teeth until Greg’s sudden intrusion into the kitchen had made her bite down on it. “Ow.”
“Mr Potter!” Her manager sounded borderline hysterical. “Can we help you?”
“Oh no, Greg. Lily was just being kind enough to entertain me for a bit. I’ll get out of everyone’s way.” He pushed off the counter, walking past Lily with the brush of his palm against her lower back. 
She normally hated it when guys did that. She did not hate it this time. Oh he is so fucking down. She grinned to herself smugly. The rest of the evening passed by pleasantly swift after that.
☆☆☆
“Thank you so much! Really, everyone was simply raving about the food!” the frail, old lady — apparently James’ mum — said at the end of the party when only the last few stragglers were left mingling by the edge of the bar in their backyard. Lily suspected the rest of her crew would probably have to stay another hour for cleanup, but mercifully, she could go home now. 
“I’m glad everyone liked it,” Lily said politely, trying not to look at James standing by his mother’s side. It felt wrong to acknowledge him in his mother’s presence considering all the filthy ways she’d already fantasized about taking him that night. After James had helped her make dinner, he’d popped back around for desserts, and then even again afterwards to slip her a glass of champagne. Normally, the servers would be the ones to do that — ‘I’ll sneak you some booze if you sneak me some food’ — but with how crazy the party had been, obviously this hadn’t been the case tonight. Also, Lily had never encountered a server brazen enough to bring Lily a glass of the really good stuff. She had no doubt that she had probably been sipping on a hundred Galleons worth of bubbly. James had choked a little bit when Lily had splashed a dash of orange juice into her flute, but honestly, she didn’t care. If it tasted better ‘ruined,’ then so be it.
Oh, how the other half lives.
James’ mum turned to him. “Will you please be a dear and give this woman her tip and then see her out?”
Lily resisted the urge to roll her eyes. I don’t want your damn oil paintings, lady. Lily almost laughed to herself as she amended, Just your son’s dignity. 
James had the decency to blush with his mum’s command. “Of course.” His mother patted him on the chest before leaving for a separate door that Lily assumed led upstairs. 
And then they were alone. Lily checked to make sure she’d shrunk and stashed away all her coolers before removing the counter protection spell.
“Got everything?” James prompted. Did he feel slightly awkward too? Was he perhaps also figuring out a way to get the two of them just as alone upstairs where they could have a little more privacy?
“Oh…” Lily smiled as she turned around and reached for the water bottle that she may have placed on the far reaches of the counter solely so that she could bend over to grab it. If she had to be tortured by the desire to have him fuck her against it all night, then the least he could do was join her in her pain for two seconds. “Got it,” she said innocently as she turned around, hoisting her tote bag higher over her shoulder before slipping her water inside. 
She’d never seen James’ cheeks rosier. It was oddly endearing. She wondered if he’d always had a smattering of freckles across his nose, or if they had shown up with his darkening tan. They’re probably new and due to his increased time for lavish vacations now that he’s out of school. 
Ugh. 
“Great,” James said, still seemingly having a hard time looking her in the eye after her little stunt. “Let me just take you to the vault for a second.”
“Excuse me?” Vault? What?
James looked at her horrified. “It’s not in the basement or anything—”
Lily laughed. “I don’t think you’re gonna kidnap me, Potter. I was more pointing out the absurdity of someone having a vault in their home.”
“Oh.” He looked kind of lost for words. Clearly he didn’t even realize it was absurd. Maybe everyone he knew had one. “Right.”
Lily followed him out of his kitchen and down the hall. 
“So you had a good night?” he asked. 
“It was all right. Yours?”
“Only all right?” he prodded, turning around and walking backwards so that he could look at her with a boyish grin as he continued leading the way. 
Oof. Stop. I’m already gonna fuck you; you don’t have to be any more charming. “I mean, I was working, so…”
James’ nose twitched before he came to a stop. “Right.” He opened an ornate door and cast a special charm on a thick titanium box inside that glowed purple before cracking ajar. Lily didn’t think she’d ever seen that many Galleons all stacked in neat little rows as far as her eyes could see. Clearly the vault had been cast with the same magic spell as her tote bag and could hold infinite objects. Oh how Lily wished her bag was filled with this much gold. 
“Uhh…” James struggled, again not being able to look directly at her, but now for a completely different reason. “Um,” he let out a weird chuckle, “what do you normally get… uh—”
It was hard not to take pity on him. Why was money such a touchy subject? Well, you really hate the rich so… clearly the whole money thing affects you too. Lily pushed the bout of self reflection aside.“How much do I normally get tipped for parties that I cook for?”
James slid his glasses up his nose where they’d started to slip. “Yes.” He seemed so grateful she’d found the words for him. 
Lily crossed her arms, figuring toying with him might be fun. “Depends. I guess you need to determine how satisfied you were with my work.” James’ eyes sliced to hers before he blinked profusely, and so fucking cutely. Fuck, she had never found him cute before. Truth be told, she didn’t think popular jock James Potter could be cute back in the day. “I’m kidding,” she whispered, leaning into him before his internalized panic combusted him. “You were just making it really weird. But yeah, normally just a few Galleons for a party this big—”
“Here,” he cut her off, grabbing two heaping handfuls of gold and shoving them into her hands. 
Lily’s brows shot up her forehead as she tried to balance all the coins. “Yeah, that’s too much—”
“Hogwash.”
“No really, I think you just gave me like, twenty times my biggest tip ever—”
“Great! Consider it backpay for all the times I bothered you in school. Can this conversation be over now?”
Lily looked at him skeptically before tittering, somehow finagling her bag open a smidge so she could throw the money inside. The coins clattered for a good thirty seconds, raining down on all the various coolers and tools she’d brought, before she could talk again. “Well. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Ever.” James smiled. “Please.”
She bit her lip again, but this time, she was fully aware of it. “Okay.”
James ruffled his hair before pointing the way out of the small room. “It was actually good to see you again, Evans.”
Oh crap. Was it silly of Lily to feel slightly cheated? Like, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever been more pitifully worked up in her life, and he was going to send her home? She sighed. She supposed this was her karma for rejecting him all those years ago. Although, she stood by that choice. (She did!) The James walking beside her now was leagues beyond that bloke she’d avoided like the plague back in 5th year. 
They got to the grand foyer of his house. “Yeah.” She grinned. “Surprisingly good.”
“Surprisingly?” he repeated teasingly. “Evans, you wound me.”
He was flirting. Was it bad that some of that hope for a possible hookup came rushing back to her? “Let’s just say you weren’t the worst company tonight.”
Clearly her face was doing something, because his expression suddenly seemed to morph to match it. Was he getting it? Was he understanding that bedding her tonight was a done deal? She’d heard that some ridiculously high percentage of all communication was nonverbal, and in this moment, she believed it. A look flitted across his face, but was gone an instant later. “Do you…” His eyes strayed from hers, watching the way Lily licked her lips utterly enraptured before snapping back. “Do you wanna…?”
Lily nodded at him encouragingly. “Stay?” 
James blinked rapidly, as if physically removing the confusion from his eyes. “Um, yeah?”
She shoots, she scores! Lily cheered to herself, so glad this whole night wouldn’t be a complete bust. It really was so hard to go out and mingle with people her own age when her work hours were literally everyone else’s party time. “Awesome.” She gave him a charming smile, figuring they were both finally on the same page. “Do you mind if I use your shower first? Sorry, I smell like food.”
James shook his head, still seeming to have a hard time processing the entire chain of events. He was probably used to having to work harder for it, but at this point, Lily was so ready to get off and was past the point of caring what any rich douche thought of her. “Oh, yeah. Of course. You can use mine.”
Lily followed him up the grand staircase, making small talk and glancing at the various childhood photographs of him that lined the wall. As far as she was concerned, they were far more interesting to look at than the stupid fruits on display downstairs. 
“And this is my room,” James announced rather unnecessarily. Even if he hadn’t been there to proclaim it, Lily was sure she could have found his space by the loud pop of Gryffindor red on the walls or the various Quidditch posters plastered everywhere.
“Wow James,” she teased, closing his door behind her and walking around, taking it all in. “This feels very…”
“I know,” James admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “I haven’t really changed anything since school, but honestly I keep telling myself I’m about to move out so it doesn’t matter, but then…”
“You don’t,” Lily finished for him. Normally, she’d feel pissed, thinking about how he was blessed with the advantage of free room and board only to be considering giving it up… but then she realized that if he wasn’t planning on living by himself soon, she would judge him for his inability to grow up. 
It was rather silly how you could always find flaws in the people that you were already determined to hate anyway.
How was James Potter making her think of him — and people like him — like a person? It was pretty uncomfortable. She rather enjoyed thinking of all the privileged assholes of the world as one entity. One conglomeration of misery that met every Tuesday to discuss how they could ruin the lives of everyone else. Of poor people.
All that being said, this was hardly the bachelor pad she’d been envisioning for him. It was damn near impossible to picture him bringing that many girls back here. 
“Yeah,” James sighed. He pointed to the door in the back corner of the room. “That’s my bathroom. You can shower and there are fresh towels in the closet.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I can go back while you—”
“No, that’s okay,” Lily responded quickly. She wasn’t going to take that long. Why would he leave? That sort of defeated the whole purpose of tonight. “Stay. I’ll be right out.”
“Okay,” James agreed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as she disappeared into his bathroom. It was clean as hell, but she supposed that was to be expected when he had house-elves; she wouldn’t be giving him any unearned credit for tidiness that wasn’t even his own. 
The first thing she did was stare at herself in the mirror. Sure, so it wasn’t her best look, but it wasn’t her worst either. And clearly, the man wasn’t complaining. She turned on the water while stripping out of her gross work clothes before stepping in and melting under the divine water pressure of James’ shower head. She could really get used to this. (It might just be the best perk of being rich she’d discovered so far, you know, besides all the other obvious ones.) She scrubbed and shaved herself quickly (thank you wand) before toweling off and rummaging through her bag for her emergency eyeliner. If she was going to shag this guy, she might as well feel her best while doing so. 
Satisfied that she was presentable, Lily performed a quick hair drying spell, clutched the towel around her chest, and walked back into James’ room, finding him sitting at his desk, bouncing his knee. He popped up to his feet as soon as he saw her re-enter, his eyes wildly scanning down her towel-clad body. “Hi.”
He was still fully dressed. Lily had no idea why, but she’d have bet money that he would be lounging across his bed in his boxers by the time she got out. Maybe with one leg propped up and open while he leaned on his palm. “Hi,” she responded with a curious grin. Did she, Lily Evans, actually make him nervous? Like, not scared-for-his-bollocks nervous but… this kind of nervous?
“Good shower?” he asked, his eyes seemingly unable to keep from dipping to her towel periodically as she walked up to him. She had to imagine it was a thrill just knowing how close she was to being totally bare for him — because no one looked that good in a fluffy red towel. If she’d have seen his awestruck expression in a vacuum, she would have assumed he was watching the most beautiful woman on the planet approach him in the sexiest lingerie known to womankind. Not because of this.
She was ready, he was ready, so why should they keep playing games? “Excellent shower,” she whispered as she dropped the towel, standing before him naked. 
There was a three second beat. 
“Holy shit.”
Lily laughed, appreciating that he was at least trying (and succeeding) to make her feel special. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down for a kiss. He took a second to reanimate, a nice further touch on his part, but then Lily felt his fingers as they clutched her waist, pinching her in as he pulled her closer, flush against his body, before responding to her lips’ fervor. Fuck, the man knew how to snog. Lily rarely found anything as disappointing in life as having a crush whose kissing style vastly differed from her own, but all it took was two seconds to realize this would not be the case with James. When their mouths danced and her instincts took over, she knew that she could switch her mind off and just let her body feed off of his. She didn’t have to overthink, she didn’t have to analyze, she could just feel her yearning and have it be answered by his, because his body was picking up what she was putting down and meeting her there. He groaned into her mouth and her hips stuttered, somehow already so fucking primed for him to take her.
“Fuck Lily,” James breathed between kisses, reaching down for her bum and picking her up, encouraging her legs to wrap around him so he could spin them the other way and deposit her onto his desk. “Where did—?”
But Lily didn’t want to entertain his questions; she wanted to get him naked. “You’re still awfully dressed, Potter.” She kissed and nipped down his neck, squeezing her calves so that his tented trousers grazed her cunt, hopefully reminding him that she was exposed for him already, so let’s get a move on. Her fingers got to work plucking open his buttons, pulling back slightly so she could see his chest as she pushed his fancy shirt over his broad shoulders. Fuck! Yeah, not attending his games had definitely been a smart act of self-preservation on her part. The man looked like a friggin’ model straight out of her dreams. 
“I’m living out my fantasy,” James panted, finally helping her out and shrugging off his shirt, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor in a heap. He seemed to really love the attention she was giving his neck. It only encouraged her to graze her teeth a little bit rougher, loving how she could directly feel the effect it had on his breathing. “Give me a moment.”
Ugh, there was the cocky arsehole she remembered. The line was just so corny. “You’ve always wanted to fuck your chef?” she sassed back. He could try to win her over with witty rehearsed one-liners, but she sure as shit didn’t have to fall for them. As far as she was concerned, she was hooking up with him in spite of who he was, and definitely not because of it. 
James laughed but didn’t respond, instead opting to lean forward into her and claim her mouth once more as he dragged her closer to the edge of the desk, his hand on the small of her back just like she’d liked so much in the kitchen. He didn’t seem to be able to help himself from rocking her against him, making them both moan in unison. This whole situation just seemed like a drawn-out tease, and Lily was ready to get to the real action.
Truthfully, he was far too good at kissing, his tongue wickedly playing with hers, and if Lily wasn’t careful, she might just let him do this all night. She had to remain focused. She couldn’t get distracted… no matter how much it seemed like James was cheekily, rakishly trying to. She pushed his body back slightly by his warm, far too chiseled chest so that she had room to finagle with his belt, biting and tugging on his lower lip as she pulled the leather end free. “I need you to fuck me, Potter,” she commanded before pulling the belt all the way out and pushing down his trousers. 
James’ jaw clenched as he stepped out of his pants and took both of her hands in his own in order to pull her from the desk, leading her towards his bed. “What do you want?” he asked gruffly when she stood beside the mattress. He hurriedly pushed his trunks down so that he was just as naked as she was. 
Fuck yes. She had no idea why — again, probably for survival purposes — but through the years she had convinced herself that he had to have the world’s tiniest pecker. 
Turned out he didn’t. Not even close.
“Eyes are up here, Evans,” he taunted, and Lily was almost mad that she’d given him the opportunity for such an easy line. 
“From behind,” she said, already knowing the pure havoc those simple words would wreak on the poor boy. The same basic, primal instinct that she knew she was tapping into to get the best reaction out of him as possible was the same reason she wanted the position in the first place. She didn’t want his fake romance or any platitudes that he’d forget spewing as soon as he came — she wanted to get fucked. Raw and hard and deep. Right fucking now. If she was nothing but a servant to people like him, he could just as easily be nothing but an easy shag for someone like her.
She crawled onto the mattress on her hands and knees, looking back over her shoulder at him, making sure to give her hair a good flip. He looked like he’d just died. She was right: he was easy. “Chop chop.”
He shook his head, trying to get at least some blood back into his brain. “Chef humor.” It didn’t come out as a burn or any sort of comeback, but more like the words of a man who was trying to prove to himself that he had some semblance, any clue really, of what was going on around him. 
Lily chuckled. She had to at least give him brownie points for putting those two things together in his addled, fully erect state. She knew men weren’t always at their brightest when their cocks were so painfully hard.
But then, James seemed to want to regain some iota of his dignity back. Standing behind her, he gently skimmed his fingers from her tailbone, over her arse, all the way through her pussy lips while his free hand tugged absentmindedly on his cock. The sight stole the breath straight out of Lily’s lungs. It was dumb, because he was about to be inside of her, but she wanted to be the one with his cock in her hands. She wanted to feel him as he thickened, ride him as he throbbed, and taste him right before he wilted. She wanted him all, all to herself.
“Are you ready?” His voice was a timber so low, so sexy, she thought she might have gotten even wetter — a feat that she wasn’t aware was even possible.
“Touch me and find out.” She bit her lower lip, not sure anymore if she was still seducing him, or just in desperate need to bite something, anything, if she couldn’t bite him. He was currently this perfect combination of flustered and eager and it was completely driving her up a wall.
He followed her heed and slipped one finger into her, whimpering almost as loudly as she did when he felt her body clutch around him greedily. “Fuck, Lily, you’re so fucking wet right now,” he breathed as he slowly began to massage his finger in and out of her. 
Lily arched her spine, flexing into the welcome feeling of him discovering her. “I’ve been this wet for you all night. So kind of you to notice.” Her fingers scrunched into his sheets, clearly some expensive, high thread count shit, as she lowered her chest to the mattress, displaying herself all the more blatantly for him. Had James been a viable dating prospect for her, she probably wouldn’t have been so shameless. If James Potter was someone whom she could actually date in the real world, she might be playing it coy, or give a single flying scruple about how he could interpret her visible keenness for him to plow her senseless as a negative. Because, who knows why, but actively wanting to get fucked is still seen as a negative for girls. But alas, the James Potters of the world never ended up with the Lily Evanses, so… she could be as real, and as lustfully turned on for him as she positively was… and show it. 
“Fuck,” he repeated, actually sounding tortured as he added a second finger inside of her. 
The naughty stretch was everything Lily had been missing these past few months. She rocked forward as she muffled her cries into his mattress, letting her bottom lip drag across the satin sheet as she slowly tilted her head up before looking back at him. “Yeah, just like that, Potter.” She hadn’t expected him to be quite this talented of a lover, but she supposed she shouldn’t be that surprised. He did have a reputation after all. And it’s not like he was ever an academic idiot. She figured he’d always learned things quickly enough. And boy am I benefitting from it now…
He’d gotten on his knees behind her at some point, face eye level with all the action. His stare kept oscillating between his fingers, watching them disappear into her over and over again, and her face, as though sinking up all the events in his head as one, continuous reality that he now had the absolute privilege of living. “May I?”
May I what? “Yes.” Lily decided whatever he was asking didn’t matter. In that moment, she’d let him do anything.
A second later he leaned in and his face disappeared from view as he replaced his fingers with his tongue and moved his thumb’s attention to her clit. Lily yelped in pleasure, the unexpected switch nearly driving her to the edge already. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever had a man eat her out without her prompting him to (quite insistently… for months) and the shock alone was thrilling. It was so dumb, but as James licked her again and again and, so beautifully, rubbed her nub in tight, satisfying circles, she couldn’t help but feel like an idiot. In what world was Potter the one giving her head? In what world was he the guy who was going to make her come with his mouth when the so-called saviors of her world had laid on their backs and expected her to service them as a reward for all the ‘hard work’ they did on the daily of treating her as an equal? 
Sure, James had been an ass, but had he ever treated her as an inferior? Had he ever made her feel worthless? Or had he just been a standard, teenage idiot? 
Had Lily really been missing out? Had she really shot herself in the foot purely out of spite by misjudging him? Was she insane for altering her whole life view around the act of cunnilingus? 
Fuck. She was thinking again. 
His tongue made a broad, firm lick against her clit before flicking her back and forth and Lily wanted to scream, settling for balling his sheets in her fists instead. “James…” she sighed with a suppressed moan, eyes screwed tightly shut. He was far too good at this too.
He lapped at her more incessantly and Lily couldn’t believe she could feel that his lips had formed a smile. “You like that?” he teased.
Yes. No need to be so smug about it.
Lily reached behind her and pulled on James’ wrist, tugging him up so that he was forced to return to his feet. The way he wiped his moist lips on the back of his hand, reminding her of her own arousal for him, was lethal. “Yes?” he asked, chest heaving in and out exaggeratedly as he stared into her very soul. She had to look so pathetic, face smushed into the mattress, cheeks flushed whilst on the verge of breaking for him, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from how he was looking at her.
“Fuck me. Now. Please.”
“Roger that.”
She could only watch the first few seconds after he lined himself up behind her, because as soon as he started pushing in, his cock feeling so fucking good and so right inside of her, she had to turn back into the sheets, muffling her whimpered whine as she hit her left fist into the mattress beside her face. It wasn’t fair. Someone so hot shouldn’t have a cock so perfect. James Potter should not have the perfect face, and the perfect body, and then also the perfect boyfriend dick that was exactly large enough to fill her up so generously and make her feel every damn inch of him as he thrust himself into her from behind — making her so unfairly aware of just how deep her body could stretch when she was hot and bothered for him — but not too large that she felt like crying at the thought of taking him like this forever. She wanted to get fucked like this forever. She wanted to have his cock in her cunt, in her mouth, wherever else he wanted to shove it, in perpetuity.
“Does that feel good?” he gasped behind her, his right hand migrating from her hip up her body until it found her chest, his grip possessively digging into her breast. How were they fucking already but he hadn’t even properly worshiped her tits yet? How was it that a few hours ago she was celebrating the innocent placement of his hand upon her back, and now she was pondering just why he hadn’t yet mapped out every centimeter of her body with his tongue?
“Yes,” she bit out. “Harder.”
James groaned as he obeyed her command, his hips snapping back and forth at a brutal pace. His free hand applied light pressure against her lower spine so that her body stayed in place, just where he wanted it. The move kept her from jostling too much up and down the bed, allowing her cunt to fill to the hilt with him with every punishing thrust. “Like this?”
“Harder.” She wanted him to hit her so deeply that it finally shattered her. 
For some reason, the muffled curses he breathed into her shoulder as he bent completely over her, doing everything within his power to grant her request — his hips never stopping even though it seemed as though his brain was frying — was the thing that was curling her toes and making her eyes start to roll up. His balls were hitting against her clit, and Lily had never wished more vehemently that she could see the action herself.
“Fuck, Lily, fuck—“ he got out in choppy bursts before his teeth finally sunk into her skin. It turned out she wasn’t alone in her need to bite the shit out of anything she wanted to either fuck or squeeze to death. His right hand left her tit and instead migrated to the mattress so he could interlock fingers with her, pushing her palm down.  
“Just like that… just like that,” she babbled incoherently, feeling herself so fucking close to the edge that she could taste it. Which is why she fully screamed when he pulled out of her and rolled her over onto her back. “Potter, what the fuck—!”
“Your turn,” he said simply as he collapsed onto the mattress next to her and pulled her on top of him. In any other context, she would hate just how much he was throwing her body around like he owned it. In this particular instance, she wished he’d never stop. “I wanna see your face when you come.”
“Fuck you,” she grumbled as she swung her leg over him, realizing that if she wanted something done right, she really would have to do it herself. She was ready to ride one out on him, hot and heavy and fast, but just as she sunk down on his cock, James sat up, his hands clutching onto the back of her shoulders. She felt oddly cocooned in this embrace, safe and warm and… held? What the fuck is he doing? It was impossible not to watch his face in this position, impossible not to see every emotion that played out in his eyes as he looked lovingly from her lips to her lashes before he tangled a hand in her hair and kissed her, deeply. 
Lily gasped and pulled back when the intensity of their snog became too much, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt her cunt flutter around him. He’s been edging you so hard, she told herself. She told herself. She told herself. 
He lazily rocked her on his lap, giving Lily far less friction than she needed as he tucked some loose hair behind her ear. “I bet you regret not giving me a chance in school now, huh?” he whispered arrogantly. 
Excuse me? First of all, fuck you. But Lily realized she didn’t need a second of all, because she simply just could. With more than a bit of anger, she ignored his words and instead pushed James’ torso down onto the mattress, hard, so that she could shag him with renewed vigor, ridding his stupid face from her sight in the hopes of coming with impunity. She ignored his knowing chuckles even as she appreciated the way his fingers came between them to rub her clit for her. 
She imagined him in the kitchen telling her to put him to use. She pictured him on his knees behind her willing to do whatever it took to please her. And yeah, fine, she envisioned the look on his face when he had realized back in school that she was not someone he could mess with — and then she came harder than she’d ever come in her life, her head thrown back and her nails digging deeply into his pecs.
She didn’t realize tears had welled in her eyes from the pleasure until James had flipped them back around and she could feel them trailing down her cheeks. 
“Do you mind if I come?” His hips were moving agonizingly slow, as though he was hedging his bets until he got a proper answer out of her.
“What?” Lily asked, not really understanding what was going on anymore.
“Can I come, please?” James repeated, the pleading tone of his voice knocking some sense into her. They were forehead to forehead, and Lily felt like he’d just shagged her so well that she needed to be that close to his desperation for it to actually register. 
“Sure,” Lily allowed, bonelessly melding into the mattress as James fucked her with everything he had, his thrusts solid and rough as he sought his own end. The bed groaned as he pounded away into her, her thighs widening to accommodate his brutal onslaught while her hands finally sunk into his hair.
He moaned, either from the way her cunt was squeezing him or from the way her nails scratched his scalp. “Lily…” His voice was pure even as his body destroyed her. 
“Fuck, James,” Lily whimpered. “Come. Come for me, please.” She wanted to watch him. She wanted to see him come undone.
“Thank you,” he breathed, his hand traveling up to clutch at her chin and hold her in place so he could kiss her as he spilled himself into her. His lips glided over hers, demanding yet soft, sweet yet sinful, and Lily felt powerless to their pull.
She fought to breathe when he finally let go, somehow overwhelmed and simultaneously left wanting as she realized their session had come to its inevitable conclusion. “You’re welcome,” she tried saying with a laugh. She wasn’t sure if it worked, but she knew her attempt at least helped to quell the weird butterflies he’d coaxed from her belly. His face was still hovering right above hers, so how the hell was she supposed to feel? She knew it was human nature to bond after sex. She also knew that it was in her best interest to deny this instinct. “You’re awfully polite when you shag.”
He chuckled as he began trailing kisses down her face, past her chin, and over her clavicle, and Lily secretly rejoiced that she hadn’t ruined the moment. She would love to experience the feel of having her tit being sucked on by his expert lips, and he was getting so awfully close, but perhaps she was being greedy. She had, after all, just come from a one night stand — and magnificently at that. She’d practically already hit the jackpot. 
“Is that a bad thing?” he murmured, his lips lingering just beneath her collarbone, and Lily felt a horrid tug a little lower under her left breast. 
“No,” she admitted, far more openly than she was used to as she forced a swallow. “It’s just not what I expected.”
He grinned, and the tug disappeared only to be replaced with a new one. A stronger one. ”You had expectations?” His body was crushing hers, and yet she couldn’t find it within herself to shove him off. 
“Well yeah. Sure. It’s hard not to think about when a boy invites me to his room.”
“Oh.” Was she imagining things, or did she just watch his whole body deflate in real time? Why was Lily suddenly struck by the strange notion that they were having two completely different conversations? 
Her awkward shifting prompted him to pull himself back and out of her. “Lemme get you a tissue.” James reached for his nightstand, grabbing one and turning back to her like he had every intention of cleaning her up himself. 
What the fuck? “I got it, thanks,” she cut him off, snatching the tissue and wiping away the trail of him she could feel leaking out of her. Sure, there was probably no sexy way to clean up post-coitus, but there was definitely a way where she could at least hold on to the last dredges of her propriety.
She’d choose that way. Every single time. 
“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick,” she announced, hopping to her feet and making a dash for the door. At this point, she wasn’t even sure if she was acting strangely or if he was. She was pretty sure it was the latter. Well, it was him first, and then she was simply reacting accordingly. 
Lily sighed. Whatever it was, it truly didn’t matter, because they’d both gotten what they’d come for, hallelujah, and now Lily could be on her merry way and James could catch the very tail end of his best friend’s celebration of love without feeling like a single loser. Lily peed, put on her old clothes, splashed some water on her face, and was ready to go.
“Thank you for a lovely time, Potter,” she said cordially as she exited the bathroom, ready to pick up her bag and bounce.
“Oh… You’re leaving?”
Lily felt her neck physically crick as she looked up to find him sitting on the edge of his bed in his trunks, his elbows resting on his knees. Why was everything he was doing tonight surprising her? Why? She’d half expected him to already be gone. Leaving would have been a foolproof way to avoid any further awkwardness. What the fuck was off with her? She usually trusted her intuition so much. She was used to being right. “Yeah…” she began. “I have a shift in the morning. Turns out people like to schedule all their parties on the weekends.”
“Course.”
She hated the sudden tension in the room. But worse? She hated how hurt he looked. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times before he finally asked, “Can I owl you?”
Lily tucked a lock of her wild sex hair behind her ear, doing everything in her power to not remember all the ways he’d just disheveled it. Was this not a one-time thing? A ‘Hey, I had a crush on you in school but we were both idiots back then so it was nice to finally see what it could have been like?’ or a ‘I was really frustrated with my life, and you sort of represent everything bad in it (sorry about that), so this was a great way to work some of that tension out of my system’? Lily paused. She supposed it sounded a bit messed up when she phrased it to herself like that. 
“You don’t have to,” she eventually answered, wanting to let him know he really didn’t have to do the whole fake-chivalry act for her. She guessed it was sort of like what he’d said downstairs in the kitchen when she’d given him her customer service spiel: this was her. They knew each other. So why pretend like this night hadn’t been exactly what it was? She was fine knowing they’d merely shared a night of passion or whatever, and they could just leave it at that. He didn’t have to owl her the next day to absolve her conscience or anything. 
James stood up, looking her dead in the eye. A pulse of longing shot down Lily’s core like a lightning bolt. It was the first time all night he’d looked even partially ticked off. “I want to.”
Lily felt oddly nervous. She’d just fucked this man. He’d just come inside of her and she’d needed to clean the mess they’d made together from off of her thighs, so why was this the behavior that her body was deeming to be ‘too much’? She wanted to ask, ‘What do you want from me?’ but the declaration seemed far too melodramatic to utter out loud. At the same time… it was all she could think of. What was he doing? He’d gotten what he wanted… didn’t he know playtime was now over?
“Sure.” She swallowed thickly. “You can do whatever you like.”
He didn’t stop approaching her until he was standing directly in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. “Good. I will.”
She felt more exposed now than when her actual arse had been in his face. She could barely breathe as her eyes tracked the slight upturn of his lips as they slanted into a grin before getting lost in the golden specks of his irises. Why did it suddenly look like he’d won something? And why did it feel like what he’d won was a prize they both secretly wanted?
What had she done? 
“Okay.”
His smirk turned lethal. “See you, Evans.”
Lily backed away slowly, not knowing whether it was better to keep an eye on him, or to turn her back as quickly as possible to break whatever unnatural hold he had on her psyche. All she knew was that a few seconds later she had her spine pressed against the outside of his door and was wondering what the hell had just happened. 
Fuck.
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girlactionfigure · 5 months
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This Israeli farmer is lighting the menorah at the tomb of King David. 👑🕎
In Jewish tradition we learn that when you want to ask someone for a blessing, you shouldn’t go to a righteous person or a rabbi, RATHER, you should go to a farmer that keeps Shmita. 🧑‍🌾🌾
But why❓🤔
NOTE: Shmita is the Jewish law of observance to not farm or tend to the land of Israel in each cycle of 7 years. The numerical value of 7 in Judaism is nature, due to the world being created in 7 days. 🌎 It is also on the 7th day that G-d rested and set a time for the entire world to rest as well (Shabbat).💤 So too, the land of Israel is meant to rest as well to allow it to rejuvenate. 🌱
However, the farmers of Israel know that if they are to keep shmita, that they would not make any profits that year and ALSO for the year to come. 🤯 
This causes farmers to rescind their power and relinquish it, to put their complete trust in G-d. 
The number 8 in Judaism represents miracles because it “one ups” nature. ⬆️ The 8 nights of Chanukah reaffirm this, since the essence of Chanukah is all about miracles. ✨
So too with the farmers that keep shmita. They know that only the year after shmita, year 8, will they start to MAYBE reap the fruits of their labor. 🍇 
This highlights their fervent belief in miracles. 
So… When one receives a blessing from a farmer, they receive it from an individual that lives and breathes miracles. 💨 
How appropriate is it then that a farmer should light the public menorah at King David’s tomb? 👑
The farmers of Israel are now praying for miracles. We encourage you to help them by contributing to save a farm. 🇮🇱 
The agricultural ecosystem is in their hands and due to the impact of the war, their farms are crumbling. 
Israel’s economy depends on these farmers and the farmers depend on donations to help them get back on their feet. 🧑‍🌾
saveafarm
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By Sam Metz
September 11, 2023
An earthquake has sown destruction and devastation in Morocco, where death and injury counts continue to rise as rescue crews dig out people both alive and dead in villages that were reduced to rubble.
Law enforcement and aid workers — both Moroccan and international — have arrived in the region south of the city of Marrakech that was hardest hit by the magnitude-6.8 tremor on Friday night and several aftershocks.
Residents await food, water and electricity, and giant boulders now block steep mountain roads.
Here’s what you need to know:
WHAT ARE THE AREAS MOST AFFECTED?
The epicenter was high in the Atlas Mountains about 70 kilometers (44 miles) south of Marrakech in Al Haouz province.
The region is largely rural, made up of red-rock mountains, picturesque gorges and glistening streams and lakes.
For residents like Hamid Idsalah, a 72-year-old mountain guide from the Ouargane Valley, it is unclear what the future holds.
Idsalah relies on Moroccan and foreign tourists who visit the region due to its proximity to both Marrakech and Toubkal, North Africa’s tallest peak and a destination for hikers and climbers.
“I can’t reconstruct my home. I don’t know what I’ll do. Still, I’m alive so I’ll wait,” he said as rescue teams traversed the unpaved road through the valley for the first time this weekend.
The earthquake shook most of Morocco and caused injury and death in other provinces, including Marrakech, Taroudant and Chichaoua.
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WHO WAS AFFECTED?
Of the 2,122 deaths reported as of Sunday evening, 1,351 were in Al Haouz, a region with a population of around 570,000, according to Morocco’s 2014 census.
People speak a combination of Arabic and Tachelhit, Morroco’s most common Indigenous language.
Villages of clay and mud brick built into mountainsides have been destroyed.
Though tourism contributes to the economy, the province is largely agrarian.
And like much of North Africa, before the earthquake, Al Haouz was reckoning with record drought that dried rivers and lakes, imperiling the largely agricultural economy and way of life.
Outside a destroyed mosque in the town of Amizmiz, Abdelkadir Smana said the disaster would compound existing struggles in the area, which had reckoned with the coronavirus pandemic in addition to the drought.
“Before and now, it’s the same,” said the 85-year-old. “There wasn’t work or much at all.”
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WHO IS PROVIDING AID?
Morocco has deployed ambulances, rescue crews and soldiers to the region to help assist with emergency response efforts.
Aid groups said the government has not made a broad appeal for help and accepted only limited foreign assistance.
The Interior Ministry said it was accepting search and rescue-focused international aid from Spain, Qatar, Britain and the United Arab Emirates, bypassing offers from French President Emmanuel Macron and U.S. President Joe Biden.
“We stand ready to provide any necessary assistance for the Moroccan people,” Biden said Sunday on a trip to Vietnam.
WHY IS MARRAKECH HISTORIC?
The earthquake cracked and crumbled parts of the walls that surround Marrakech’s old city, a UNESCO World Heritage site built in the 12th century.
Videos showed dust emanating from parts of the Koutoubia Mosque, one of the city’s best known historic sites.
The city is Morocco’s most widely visited destination, known for its palaces, spice markets, tanneries and Jemaa El Fna, its noisy square full of food vendors and musicians.
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HOW DOES THIS COMPARE TO OTHER QUAKES?
Friday’s earthquake was Morocco’s strongest in over a century but, though such powerful tremors are rare, it isn’t the country’s deadliest.
Just over 60 years ago, the country was rocked by a magnitude-5.8 quake that killed over 12,000 people on its western coast, where the city of Agadir, southwest of Marrakech, crumbled.
That quake prompted changes in construction rules in Morocco, but many buildings, especially rural homes, are not built to withstand such tremors.
There had not been any earthquakes stronger than magnitude 6.0 within 310 miles (500 kilometers) of Friday’s tremor in at least a century, according to the U.S. Geological Survey.
Northern Morocco experiences earthquakes more often, including tremors of magnitude 6.4 in 2004 and magnitude 6.3 in 2016.
Elsewhere this year, a magnitude 7.8 temblor that shook Syria and Turkey killed more than 21,600 people.
The most devastating earthquakes in recent history have been above magnitude 7.0, including a 2015 tremor in Nepal that killed over 8,800 people and a 2008 quake that killed 87,500 in China.
WHAT ARE THE NEXT STEPS?
Emergency response efforts are likely to continue as teams traverse mountain roads to reach villages hit hardest by the earthquake.
Many communities lack food, water, electricity, and shelter.
But once aid crews and soldiers leave, the challenges facing hundreds of thousands who call the area home will likely remain.
Members of the Moroccan Parliament are scheduled to convene Monday to create a government fund for earthquake response at the request of King Mohammed VI.
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dictee · 3 months
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i wish i had religious faith so i would have the language to express like mourning and connection for this kind of grief that isnt mine directly but is mine as a living feeling person and a witness and an accomplice in the first world. so i could appeal to some kind of cosmic justice but i guess i do know. like i know with all my heart that whether it takes 5 years or 20 years or 50 years or 100 years there will be liberation there must and it must be for the whole world and that will truly be in the name of all the martyrs not just the people who fought for it but the children who didnt get to fight and these empires will fall and crumble and history will stand testament to their barbarism. and i mean this bc i believe people have the material foundation to fight and win and mass consciousness is inevitable as repression rises but at this point it does feel like faith. i need to read more particularly like political economy again lol
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queenofsimpsblog · 1 year
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rivals - shuri x reader
A/N: MY FIRST REQUEST YAY so this was requested by @locoforshuri so credits to her for the idea, i really hope you like this!! i took your request and added a bunch of other stuff to the plot to make it ✨spicy✨ so i hope that’s alright
ALSO for the sake of the story, shuri and y/n are both teenagers in the story. so this takes place after black panther but before infinity war (so t’challa and queen ramonda are still alive). this also ended up being a LOT longer than i thought it would, and at some point i lost track of what i was writing but oh well
i hope you guys like this <3
“i’m sorry, what?!” you said, rising from your seat in the court. your parents looked at you, shocked from your outburst.
“yes, darling.” your father said. “lonova is far too behind in its technological advancements so wakanda has extended an offer to help us. we need you to head the project and go to wakanda for a few months to learn and observe their technique. lonova needs a win right now. and you know exactly why.”
“okay, no. that’s a terrible idea. lonova is focused on its textiles and its fashion, and that has proven great so far! why do we need to become the second wakanda?!”
the queen, your mother, interjects. “dearest, you know that lonova can’t sustain on textiles alone. it’s not generating enough revenue. we have to build our country and continue to develop it. the economy of our great nation is going to crumble soon if we don’t do something to save it. as princess and soon-to-be queen, it is your duty to help your country and be there when we need you.”
“i thought we already agreed that raunak was going to become the king?” you said, referring to your younger brother, who looked too uncomfortable to say anything. “i told you, ruling a nation is not my thing.”
your mother rolled her eyes. “then make it your thing! lonova needs to be saved and you need to save it. so get your things. you leave tonight. dismissed.” you wanted to pull your hair, but your mother was right. lonova’s economy had taken a really bad hit after all the manufacturing factories got bombed. lonova was famous for its indestructible clothes with the best designs and astonishing durability. it was your country’s main source of income. but the run down factories resulted in no clothes being produced. lonova’s tech was great, but nothing compared to wakanda.
what was more frustrating was the fact that your brother was the more tech-inclined person. even though he was a year younger, his brains beat you in every way. it didn’t really bother you a lot, as your interests lay in design. but either way, someone had to step up to save your country. might as well be you.
going to wakanda wasn’t something you dreaded. you’ve visited quite a few times and loved the place. it was a beautiful country. the problem was that the princess, shuri, was your rival since you were kids.
you designed a dress? shuri made a dress that could turn into a battle suit. you tried to make a robot butler? shuri made an army of robot workers. every time you tried to do something shuri ripped off your designs and made it better. and you HATED it.
but either way, your mother was right. lonova needed you. and you would do anything for your country, even if it means working with your rival.
the hours passed and before you knew it, your ship landed on the palace jet pad. your guards first stepped out, then you did. taking a look around, a smile crept its way onto your face. you missed wakanda. the people here always made you feel welcome.
drums played to signal your arrival. queen ramonda, t’challa, and shuri stood together to greet you. you smiled at the sight (and held back a sneer when you looked at the princess).
“welcome back, y/n!” queen ramonda said and hugged you. her hugs always felt so good.
“missed me?” you smiled at t’challa and hugged him as well. he was like the older brother you never had. he’s been in your life since the agreement between lonova and wakanda formed, around 8 years ago.
you paused to look at shuri. she barely held back a scowl. “why didn’t raunak come with you? he’s much better at tech, he’d probably understand what i’m about to teach.”
“okay you know what—”
“how about we all just calm down and have some lunch? i am absolutely starving,” t’challa interrupted you both before the fight escalated. the queen agreed and made the guards take you to the royal dining hall.
queen ramonda and t’challa were walking ahead, while you and shuri were behind.
ramonda was quietly laughing to herself. t’challa looked at her with amusement. “what is so funny, mother?”
“shuri and y/n. they’re so adorable.”
“adorable? what’s adorable about them fighting like dogs and cats?”
“ah, that’s just them hiding their true feelings. they love each other. i know it.”
“and how are you do sure?”
“because that is exactly how your father and i behaved when we were their age.” the queen smiled at her son as they entered the dining hall, greeted by the heavenly smell of wakandan food.
you and shuri were still bickering in the background. t’challa looked at you both and smiled to himself. they really are adorable.
you all sat down and began eating. wakandan cuisine was one of your favourites. and why wouldn’t it be?! the food was absolutely delicious. your favourite was the marinated chicken breasts. several were kept on the tray, and you all shared it. until there was one piece left.
you looked at the chicken, and then looked upwards to see shuri staring at the plate and then you. you both grabbed your fork and knife and began fighting for the last piece. the sight was laughable, until t’challa interrupted you guys again and cut the piece into two. you sneered at the princess but tried to keep the rest of your dignity intact and ate one half of the chicken while shuri ate the other.
after lunch, you made your way to your assigned room and did a bit of unpacking, before bringing your phone and notebook down to shuri’s lab, where she called you at 3pm.
you walked in and instantly recognised the sound of lo fi african beats playing in the background. scientists bustled around, chattering about inventions and experiments, most of which flew off of the top of your head.
you found science quite fascinating, but it wasn’t exactly your specialty. lonova was a country known for its exquisite designs, most of which were created by you. you contributed to a certain amount of the tech, but most of it was done by your younger brother raunak. ideally, he should’ve been the one to come to wakanda, but your parents sent you instead as they needed raunak in lonova to monitor their latest developments.
you looked around for shuri, not seeing her anywhere. “looking for me?” a voice came from upwards. sure enough, the princess was walking down the stairs, not bothering to hide her disinterest in this ‘project’.
“let’s make it clear. i have no interest in teaching you anything. but your country is in shambles and needs my help.”
“oh you have some FLIPPING nerve to talk shit about my country to my face—”
“i am not talking shit, i’m merely saying the truth. now listen up. you have much to learn.”
shuri spent the next couple hours talking about circuit boards, coding, and nanotech. you were personally interested the most by nanotech, because it allowed you to incorporate design and tech together.
after the bombings, your father decided the army needed to be trained much more rigorously. their training already began, but they also needed new weaponry and new battle suits, which you and your brother (along with a team of experts) were meant to create. you already discussed the usage of nanotech with your brother, but the original blueprints were missing something, and neither of you could put your finger on it.
“nanotech is really important for building comfortable battle suits. especially in wakanda, we use vibranium in the suits to make them virtually indestructible.”
“wait, i have a question.”
“yes?”
“if vibranium is a metal, how do you get it into clothes? like, do you use chemical metal embrittlement? cause that’s expensive and really time consuming.”
shuri looked at you as if you just grew two heads. “that’s… that’s not how it works, y/n.” she chucked slightly before explaining the mechanism behind it.
you continued to ask questions, mainly about nanotech and how to perfect it. you kept writing down the important stuff shuri was saying, knowing you’d need it later on. a few hours later, you decided to stop for the day and pick up where you left off tomorrow.
“cant wait until this is over… then she can finally get out of my hair…” shuri muttered under her breath as you were preparing to leave the lab. she didn’t think you heard her, but you did. her words stung. as kids, you always tried to be friends with shuri, but she just kept dodging your attempts at friendship. eventually you gave up, admitting that shuri would be nothing more than your rival.
the days went by like this, and before you knew it, a month had already passed. you were amazed by shuri’s knowledge (although you never really admitted it) and her ability to grasp concepts and apply them to serve her nation. you kept telling raunak about everything you’ve been learning, and he started using the notes you made. and it worked! lonova’s factories were back on track and production of the textiles was resumed. on top of that, raunak was also able to design better security so that such bombs wouldn’t blow again, and the new suits for the improved army were almost ready. they just needed the final touches which he left to you.
your country was beginning to prosper. which was certainly relieving, as lonova was suffering like anything before. but clearly, you learning from shuri was helping. as much as you hated to admit it, you secretly enjoyed the time you spent with her.
the most shocking part was the fact that you and shuri were getting along surprisingly well. it was like the rivalry between you both never existed.
shuri also felt her hatred for you slowly disappear. she started admiring you a lot more, and noticed the little things about you. the way you’d tie your hair up when you were doing something important. the way you’d bite your lip when you were super focused. the way your hands would move so fast when you were writing in your notebook. the way your outfits always had a bit of flair, which wasn’t surprising seeing as you were literally the princess of a country known for its iconic fashion.
she was intimidated by you, honestly. the way you looked so effortlessly gorgeous all the time. it made her want to dress up a bit more so you’d look at her twice. maybe even compliment her.
god, shuri was smitten for you and didn’t even realise it. she was even complaining to her mom and brother about it! “help me! i cant stop thinking about her. is this some kind of disease?!”
her brother laughed before replying, “what you’re experiencing is love. you are in love with y/n. it’s simple. can’t believe someone so smart took so long to figure it out.” queen ramonda nodded in agreement with a knowing smile, wanting to burst into laughter again after seeing shuri’s face.
“love?! oh please. why would i love her?! it’s not love. it’s just that i can’t get her out of my head. can’t stop thinking about her stupid pretty hair and her stupid pretty eyes.”
“HAH! that is love, my dear sister. now calm down, and tell y/n how you feel.”
“no! that’s a terrible idea. oh shit, i’m supposed to meet her now!” shuri said before running out of the throne room and to her lab, to see you concentrating on some sketch on a blue screen.
“so if i bring this here….” you muttered to yourself, playing around with the images. you were working on a new weapon, and were currently struggling to finalise its design.
shuri cleared her throat and you turned around to make eye contact with her. “oh hey shuri! didnt see you there, i was just working on my latest design. can’t seem to figure this shit out…”
“here, let me help you.”
she came behind you to get a closer look at what you were working with. you caught a whiff of her scent. she smelled like cocoa butter. absolutely divine. your heartbeat accelerated when you both came in close contact. huh?! what was that about…
you shook off that feeling and brought your attention back to the screen. “ah, i see your mistake. you calculated the wrong angle. this entire shape is wrong.”
“oh, crap, sorry.”
“no problem. just fix your mistake then we can get back to the triple integrals i was telling you about last week. we need that for designing machinery.” she shot you a smile and you felt butterflies in your stomach.
okay, what’s going on? this is crazy. do i love her?
thoughts raced through your head as you attempted to fix the design of your weapon. your hands flew across the screen as you fixed the design. it finally made sense and the sketch looked as if the weapon would actually work. you felt so proud that you just got up and screamed.
“YAY!! IT WORKED IT WORKED IT WORKED!!” you ran around the lab and wrapped your arms around shuri, hugging her tightly.
“thank you so much!!” you said and smiled widely. shuri felt her face heat up in embarrassment. thankfully, due to her skin tone her blushing wasn’t obvious.
“oh, uhh, sorry.” you picked up on shuri’s awkwardness and backed away. “so… what now?”
both of you stayed quiet for a minute before griot intervened. “princess y/n, this is the reminder you asked me to give you today. you must leave to pack your things.” shuri raised an eyebrow.
you mentally facepalmed yourself. “oh, yeah. i must’ve forgotten to tell you. i need to head back to lonova tomorrow. the new army suits need to be finalised before we start producing them, and raunak needs me to be there in person to work out the final design. i leave tomorrow morning.”
“and you weren’t planning on telling me?!” shuri looked upset. angry. which confused you. from the day you arrived, shuri wanted nothing more than to get rid of you. so why the sudden change of heart?
“i don’t see why you’re getting so upset… you couldn’t wait for me to leave. and now that i’m going, you don’t want me to?”
“no, of course not. leave. i don’t care. i’m least bothered.” she spat and turned away, walking to another station of the lab in an attempt to shut down the conversation.
but you weren’t having it. you wanted to sort out this tension and rivalry once and for all.
“what’s your problem with me?!” you raised your voice to get shuri’s attention. and it worked, cause she instantly walked up to you.
“my problem is that you just come in here asking for my help and now that we’re finally getting along, you just want to leave me!”
“leave you? didn’t you want me to go in the first place?”
“no! i mean, yes, but that’s changed now.”
“what exactly are you trying to say, shuri?”
“i’m saying i love you, you idiot!” she yelled and the lab went absolutely silent. thank bast the two of you were alone that day.
you didn’t know what to do. the girl that has hated you your entire life just confessed her love for you. shuri started assuming the worst and was about to run away, but before she could you grabbed her by her shoulders and smashed your lips against her.
the kiss was desperate. passionate. you acted as if you let her go, then she’d disappear. it was like you poured your entire soul into her in that moment. you parted to breathe and stared into each others eyes. shuri started smiling widely, as did you.
“i take it that means you love me too?”
IT HAS BEEN DONE MY FIRST REQUEST DID YOU GUYS LIKE IT
I MIGHT DO A PART 2 WHERE THEY MAKE IT OFFICIAL AND IT MAY FEATURE JEALOUS SHURI
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