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delirious-donna · 3 months

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Praise [Nanami Kento]

an: this is an old fic of mine which got slapped with a flag the first time around. I’ve reworked it and I like it far better now and I hope you will too.

premise: Kento finds it so adorable when you look at him with those big, shiny doe eyes. Has he noticed that you do it more when he sings your praises? Oh yes, and he plans to make you purr for him.

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: praise kink, office sex, possibility of being caught, boss/subordinate dynamic, sloppy blowjob, cum swallowing, Kento being a bit of a tease but with good intentions

Masterlist

It was becoming increasingly impossible to ignore the way you squeezed past him in the break room. The lilt of faintly murmured apologies and downcast eyes that refused to meet his own.

Nanami watched you keenly whilst you poured your coffee and sprinkled in packet after packet of sweetener. Leaning against the far wall with his coffee mug dutifully hiding the smile that rose to his lips. Ever the sweet tooth.

His board of directors would shudder in their golf carts if they knew he mingled with his subordinates on a daily basis rather than locking himself within an ivory tower. It was an argument he was accustomed to, and one that he assured anyone that asked was worth the risk. Workers who knew the big boss outside of his office were more likely to be productive. He had reams of research tucked away, statistics on the positive impact on retention rates and the upward trends on quality assurance.

It was all a ruse, and a convincing one at that. Kento could recite KPIs at the drop of a hat until those scrutinising eyes turned vacant and disengaged. All for you. His every effort to satisfy the worry that stalked your every breath it seemed at times. For you see, you meant the world to Nanami Kento and he to you, but he was also your boss and that caused problems.

A secret relationship, one that might be frowned upon if he weren’t the CEO of the company, but it was at your continued insistence. You wanted to be taken seriously for your contribution to the company and he respected that decision. The board answered to him at the end of the day, he held a majority share in the organisation he had built from the ground up, but he understood your desire to find your own worth rather than be tied to his side.

You were a dedicated worker, a real asset to the executive team he managed personally and from the moment he met you, he knew he had to have you. Never before had he felt compelled to pursue something so risqué. Most would call him risk averse, what they didn’t know would likely make their jaws drop.

Whilst his gut instinct was immediate, the road to where you were now was not so quick. It had taken time and a boatload of patience. A sensual dance of flirtation and seduction which had severely tested his restraint, but after months of witty remarks and sexual tension thick enough to choke a horse, you were finally his.

Quite frankly he hadn’t known he had it in him. It was the first time he had spent as much time and energy on pursuing anyone, but the reward had been more than worth it. Only recently, he asked you to move in with him and the spacious penthouse no longer felt too large and lonesome. The bachelor life was not meant for him. It was an ill-fitting suit and he gladly welcomed the tailored fit of being your adoring partner and lover.

It was tainted by the fact that you shared the same bed, woke tangled in each other’s arms each morning but never arrived to work together. The same was true at the end of the day, though Kento tended to spend more hours in the office for obvious reasons. He understood your reservations, it was hard for a woman to be taken seriously at this level and although he operated with a policy of complete gender equality, there were still those old-school fuckers that looked down on women.

He’d assured you he wouldn’t hesitate to fire anyone who even uttered a derogatory word regarding your relationship but you begged him to keep it quiet for now. Unfortunately for him, he was wrapped tightly around your finger and so, despite his desire to the contrary, he bowed to your wishes.

Only thought of the day where he could stand proudly by your side without fear of repercussion in your eyes kept him going. Wheedling out the bad seeds covertly in the background to lay the groundwork for the years to come and how prosperous and happy you both could be if given the chance to flourish freely.

Nanami was a good man, at least he hoped he was.

However, his gaze was anything but at this moment. He felt the surge of predatory intent wash through him as he took in your grey skirt and the matching jacket that pinched your waist in the way he liked most. The knowledge of those delectable thigh highs that concealed your bare legs ran rampant, and he idly cursed that he wasn’t pressing you up against the counter and fucking you like he wanted to do. To hell with coffee and boring Monday meetings.

No, he had control and an idea.

“See you in ten,” he said on his way out the door, flashing a quick wink in your direction and watching your jaw drop in response.

The boardroom was noisy as everyone took their seats. Conversation flowed but you couldn’t pay attention, not when you knew that Kento was up to something. That faint crocodile smile he had offered not long ago lingered in your memory and you straightened deliberately in your chair, uncomfortable for the first time in many months.

He sat at the head of the table, fingers steepled whilst he studied the open planner set before him. Strands of blonde hair fell into his face, and the annoying part of you that wanted to sweep it back reared its head. As if he could sense your thoughts, he parted his hands and fixed his hair without glancing at you.

The sooner this meeting was over, the better. You had a project in need of your attention, and literally any excuse not to be caught feeling frisky in the office. A prospect that was growing exceedingly harder given the unknown meaning behind that sly little wink in the break room.

The proceedings started as normal, the boring bullshit of every corporate meeting and then it happened.

“Excellent work on the Fushiguro account. You exceeded expectations, well done.” Nanami announced out of the blue. His warm hazel eyes fixed you in place whilst your colleagues eagerly added to the sentiment, some genuine and some because they were simpering fools.

You found yourself staring at him—at your boss—with cheeks that felt hot enough to fry eggs and wide eyes blinking much too rapidly. Raw pride swelled in your chest along with a squirm in your lower half and a pleasant sensation twisting in your gut.

“Thank you, sir.”

Perhaps it could be put down to a one-off but not when the offers of praise started to come thick and fast. He made it seem so natural as if he were paying it no more attention than a good boss should do and he certainly shared the successes out amongst your colleagues, but this was something else—you knew it.

Could he sense that your thighs were pressed tightly together beneath the opulent table? Did he hear the hitch of your breath every time he mentioned your name? How about the heat spreading across the back of your neck or the bead of sweat that trickled down your spine? Could he smell your arousal?

Goddamn his fiendish ways. Kento always could read you like a book, and not just any book plucked from the shelf. You were a well-thumbed and beloved story that he would read fondly over and over, each time finding new things to add to the piles of reasons for loving you.

You were losing your mind. Furiously beating your pen against the still empty pad you’d brought with you for note taking. You crossed and uncrossed your legs for the hundredth time, desperately wanting to excuse yourself for the solitude of the bathroom. A splash of water to your face was long overdue.

So lost in the abundance of praise being heaped on you, you didn’t hear the call of dismissal. It wasn’t until the scrapping of chairs met your ears did you realise it was time to leave and you were ready to rocket your right out of the room as soon as the door opened.

“May I have a moment of your time?” Nanami asked you nonchalantly. Your knees almost buckled at the idea of being alone here with him.

Only once the last person left and the door thudded shut did you dare to look at him. Dared to bear witness to the blonde God that was leaning back in his chair—observing you.

“Is everything alright? You look… flushed.”

Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth as you chewed over your words. “I’m perfectly fine. I appreciate the concern.”

“Hm. That you are, sweetheart. So very fine…” he enthused, reclining back in his executive chair to rake your standing figure with a lustful eye. Oh, he wasn’t playing fair in the slightest and somehow that made everything far worse.

Kento admired you from the top of your head right down to your shuffling toes and back again. The flash of his pink tongue wetting his lips did nothing but force a fierce shudder down the length of your spine. You knew where this was going, part terrified and part excited beyond belief. In the sanctity of your home, you would have already pounced.

“Ken—”

“I can smell your arousal, darling.”

Quick as a flash, he was leaning forward in his seat and wrapping both hands around your wrists to tug you towards him. You gasped aloud at his downright filthy accusation and the way he was manhandling you to stand in front of him. The edge of the desk hit against the backs of your thighs and Kento used your moment of imbalance to seat your butt against the edge of the glass top.

He rolled his chair closer, a thick muscled thigh pressed between your legs and forced the tight hold of your skirt to ride up to accommodate his presence there. Nanami groaned at the sight of your lace-detailed stocking tops, a calloused finger swiped across his mouth as if deciding what to do next.

“Have you noticed how… receptive you become when I praise you? Or how your beautiful skin blooms when I tell you how clever you are?”

Kento brushed his thumb across your cheek, stroking your jaw and tilting your chin. His free hand fingered the lacy tops of your thigh highs, straddling the line where the garment met your bare skin and you fought down the moan in your throat. You were melting into a puddle, no more than an ice cream cone on a blazing summer day and longing to be licked up by the man before you.

“Such a brilliant mind inside that pretty head, I’m truly a lucky man,” he rasped, and you snapped.

Grabbing him by the knot of the tie at his throat, you pulled him to meet you halfway in a searing kiss. Damn it all to hell, you no longer cared that you were in the workplace or that the door wasn’t even locked, you needed him with a dizzying urgency that refused to be denied a moment longer.

The aroma of rich, bitter coffee and musky cologne filled your nose, it birthed a breathy sigh of equal parts comfort and desire. You tried to slide onto his lap, to anchor your knees on either side of his hips but he held you fixed on the table with two strong palms.

“My precious sweetheart needs to show me how good she can be. Think you can take care of a pressing matter of mine?” Kento’s gaze dropped to the obvious lift to his expensive dress slacks, and you caught his meaning immediately.

The idea of being praised more was all the encouragement you needed to bend at the waist and palm him through the heavy material. You could feel the outline of his straining cock, both your mouth and pussy drooled in anticipation of revealing the beast hiding beneath those layers.

You made quick work of his belt, unfastening the buckle deftly before freeing his button and dragging the zipper down. Nanami assisted in lifting his hips enough to shuffle his trousers down whilst your eager fingers hooked inside the waistband of his briefs and finally his leaking cock sprang out.

The velvet skin appeared agitated and angry, the tip flushed a deep pulsing purple and pearlescent precum oozed freely from his slit. You touched the silky liquid without grazing his skin yet he still twitched from watching you alone.

“Mm… gonna show me what you’ve got, sweetheart? Show me who the real boss is here?” He drawled almost lazily, and your breath hitched at the insinuation that you were the one in charge. That thought made your cunt clench and your stomach flutter.

You wrapped around his shaft, working the beads of moisture down his skin to make the pump of your fist more slick and comfortable. Kento watched you through hooded eyes, delving his hands through your lustrous hair and pulling it free from the clip holding it back. You were such a sinful sight; all flushed cheeks and heaving chest that strained the silky fabric of your blouse to the limit.

“Gods, you drive me crazy. Do you know how much I have to restrain myself when you’re around?”

Big, round doe eyes blinked up from where you knelt between his parted thighs. The surface of your irises were glossy like polished mirrors and saliva escaped your pouty lips before you’d even gotten close to taking him into your mouth.

He knew your tight little pussy would be throbbing in need, that lust covered your folds and tracked down your thighs, sticking to your skin and waiting to be licked clean by his tongue. He could smell it, practically taste it and he would, once you were finished.

“Kento…”

He nodded his head, giving you the permission he knew you were seeking to do what you both wanted. That first sensation from the heat of your mouth sent him crashing, head tilted to stare at the ceiling and strained the thick tendons in his neck.

You moaned around his girth, slobbering already as your overexcitement spurred you on. The ache in your pert clit was maddening, the clench of your thighs not enough to relieve the ache in the pit of your abdomen. The friction wasn’t nearly enough, you were desperate for more. What made it worse was the heavy, bitter taste of Kento’s cock. It made you salivate, but not only in your mouth. The underwear beneath your skirt would have to be trashed as completely ruined at this point.

“Fuck, that’s it. Taking me down your throat so well, so proud of you sweetheart,” he groaned whilst noticing your restless wriggling and knowing exactly what you wanted—what you needed. “Play with yourself, my love.”

You jumped at the instruction, eager not to waste a moment of time in complying with the request and grateful that your man was so in tune with your needs and not just his own. A hand slid beneath your skirt and rubbed erratically through the sodden cotton of your ruined underwear. Never had you fallen apart so quickly, never had your heart thundered so much that it might explode.

“I love seeing you like this. Let me hear you purr for me, kitten.”

Swallowing around his thick girth, your cheeks hollowed to increase the suction of your mouth and Kento’s head snapped down to your face with parted lips. The tip of his cock kissed the back of your throat but you didn’t stop, barely hesitated as he slid further down until you gagged and spluttered when you pulled off for air. It was only for a moment. You were too resolute in bringing this powerful man to his knees.

With a flickering tongue that pressed thickly against his heavy shaft, you tasted him thoroughly and let spit bubble at the sides of your mouth to coat your chin. Kento was fighting against the rise of his hips as he twisted a hand into your hair and gently guided your head up and down in the perfect bobbing motion.

He was close. Hell, you were closer.

Your forearm rested on his strong thigh, hand wrapped around the remaining inches of his shaft that refused to fit into your mouth and throat whilst the other hand dipped into your sopping hole.

Your cunt clenched around your slim fingers, and you could sob. You longed for something else, something more and you knew just what you wanted, but perhaps you weren’t going to get it.

“Sw—sweetheart… i’m gonna - oh fuck - swallow it like a good girl, please?” His plea was breathless and the nearest you had ever heard to a whimper. It was beautiful and empowering to know that he could be brought to heel by you.

The low flutter of your lashes along with a subtle nod and watery eyes were his sign of your acceptance. Kento allowed the pressure that was building to a crescendo to release like a riptide. He spilled his seed down your throat and filled your mouth as he pulled his hips back.

He was in awe at the sight of you licking your lips like the cat who got the cream. His chest heaved with every twitch of his dick, emptying himself against your pursed lips and smearing the remnants for you to lap up greedily. Kento smiled, lazy and content now that the ache of his balls had drained away. He was quick to haul you up and onto his lap with your surprised squeal causing him to chuckle.

“I love you, my beautiful, smart and funny girl,” he cooed into your ear, his large palms coasted over your jittery thighs and hooked between your legs just where you needed him the most.

“Now then, time for your reward…”

#delirious writes #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #kento smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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t00thpasteface · 5 months

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How do you like the mash movie?

I saw the series first, my dad is a fan and we used to watch it together, and was surprised at its more serious tone. Frank Burns also struck me as also a pathetic idiot but in such a different way and also has these evil vibes. Because of you I discovered the books, got them, and im having even more shocks!

i fucking LOVED IT. i was absolutely HOWLING the entire time. my favorite bits were:

the opening where you see the dangling arms of the bodies in the choppers??? oh my god. i was like GASP. the insane blood and gore was awesome and really drove home how petty and wacky everyone's being

hawkeye's stupid tinted glasses and bucket hat <3 sooo 70s.

mulcahy getting immediately ignored the second he's introduced. mulcahy basically acting like a frightened mouse in every scene he has. he is so sad. he's really not cut out for this

frank being introduced as an aggressive bible thumper (very funny contrast to the likeable and shy priest) so him cheating on his wife with margaret, who is also married, is even funnier

radar(!!) being the one who puts the mic under frank and margaret's bed

mulcahy hearing them bang, leaning in bc he thinks it's a radio program he enjoys, and going D: when he Realizes

suicide is painless. holy shit. did you know a 14 y/o wrote the lyrics? his dad said "i needed the lyrics to be extremely stupid, and 14 year old boys are masters of stupidity." mom just learned that and has been telling all her 50-60 y/o friends. also both versions in the movie are sung beautifully (and thus hilariously)

the unbelievable fruitiness of hawkeye and trapper at all points but especially in the golf related scenes

trapper spawning the olives out of nowhere. player.placeatme olivejar 1

bring me the sultry bitch with the fire in her eyes! (dramatic zoom)

RADAR STEALING HENRY'S BLOOD??

hawkeye's entire interaction with painless just SCREAMING "chaotic bisexual who's been out the longest of anyone in the friendgroup and will forcefully yank you out of the closet the second you start questioning"

racists do not get dignified with a response. racists get shoved out of their chair

DON'T LET HIM KISS YOU HAWKEYE!

frank getting carted away in a straitjacket and never seen again

margaret hating the idea of football until the general wants it and suddenly she's a cheerleader with pigtails bc she's completely spineless. god she's so evil in this i LOVE horrible evil women. full agency at being the worst person ever <333 i support women's wrongs and i love watching chicks who are just slow-motion car crashes

"i was thinking we should have some plays, cause yknow, football teams always have plays" "actually i took the liberty of drawing about seven or eight plays for us to try ^_^" "great! ...what do these arrows mean?"

MASH EM! SMASH EM! KILL, KILL, KILL!

OH MY GOD THEY SHOT HIM!!!

hawkeye suddenly not wanting to leave once he's actually able to 🥺

end credits being read over the loudspeaker like the other movie night announcements. so. cute.

okay sorry. good movie. i had fun and cried laughing ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

#shebbz shoutz #mash #m*a*s*h #mash 1970 #ask

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sidhewrites · 11 months

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I was possessed by the spirit of writing last night and stayed up way too late working on a Graveyard Lesbians rewrite. So here's a brand new chapter 1 :)

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tag list: @adaughterofathena @ambreeskyewriting @carnelianflame @halfbloodlycan @vigilantdesert @nadunacreates

For the record, I wasn't in a graveyard in the rain to sulk, or brood, or pout. I had work to do. I'll admit, I had done no small amount of those things the past two weeks, but this wasn't the time. Regardless of the weather, grass had to be cut, headstones had to be cleaned, and ghosts had to be banished.

Okay, that last one was a lie, but I did feel a little bit like a ghost buster, leaving the tool shed armed with a trowel, huge garden shears, and an assortment of other tools hanging off my tool belt, and a grim scowl of determination on my face. One of the rose bushes had thrown out a runner, and if I didn't tackle it now, Mr. Ngo would try to take care of it himself.

And though I was a cool, collected, recently-single young woman in a college town full of other young women ready to mingle, I wasn't about to let a sixty-year-old man with arthritis try to fight a runner. Better just to keep him ignorant of the whole thing.

So I leave the tool shed properly armed, and only pause briefly to wonder if I should take the golf cart. The roses weren't too far away on a clear day, but it was pouring buckets, and it would be better for the metal tools. But it would also ruin the mood of my post-breakup wallowing. In the end, it wasn't a hard decision at all.

I take off, and let the rain wash down my face, ruining my recently-touched up pink dye, and dripping off my various piercings. Perfect.

The town had newer graveyards, with fewer ghost stories and questionable history, but this one had been around for almost 150 years. The first grave dated back to when Joseph Sutterman and his party first arrived here and set up a logging operation to service all the settlements along the river as it traveled down the mountainside. As the surrounding cities grew, so did Sutterman's settlement and the town of [Town] was founded. Even if the logging industry had dried up in the 1940s, people kept moving in, Sutterman College kept growing, and now we had a whole modern graveyard, and zoning laws, and everything. [find a way to put this back on topic about how this graveyard and like half of town has ghost stories with how old it is]

A flash of movement out of the corner of my eye has me stop in my tracks and look over my shoulder. The graveyard isn't open to the public for another two hours, so there shouldn't be anyone there. All the same, I could swear I saw something. But as I turned, my headphone wire snagged on the shears, and I flinched as one earbud tore out of my ear. By the time I'd saved it from falling in the mud, the brief pain had receded, and I was able to turn back to where I'd seen the person.

Only there wasn't anyone there. Just the old tree in the center of the older headstones, looking as ominous and spooky as always when the weather was like this. Spooky, but not actually someone trying to trespass.

The graveyard was well-trafficked, with a wide gates on three of its four sides, separating many of the apartments and off-campus housing from the university campus itself. The odd passer-by wasn't an uncommon sight, nor was it unheard of for students to spend time here, studying or hanging out between classes. There's a small chance I'm speaking from personal experience when I say that the gates were too difficult to climb when locked and slick from the rain.

So I tip an imaginary hat at the old spooky tree with its crown of red-and-gold leaves, and make my way over to the rose bushes.

By the time I've got the runner pulled up and the dirt back in place, I'm exhausted, covered in mud, and soaked to the bone, but I feel better about my life for the time being. Digging things up and gardening had always helped get my mind off things, Josie included. She'd be at the curio shop by now, hard at work and hopefully feeling guilty about how we'd left off the last time we tried to find time for her to come pick up the rest of her things from my place. It was almost noon, which meant the end of my shift, and I figured that the older graves could stand to wait a day or two before I mowed the grass in that quarter of the graveyard.

Mr. Ngo, being a grandfather, had perfected the disappointed dad stare, and he leveled me with one as he puttered up to the tool shed in his own personal golf cart. "What happened to you, Karen?" He also knew exactly when to use my full name to kick his fatherly disappointment up a notch. Normally, it's Kas to him, and everyone else except my actual father, who I only spoke to on holidays.

For the record, I'd only ever called him dad five times since I started working here three years ago.

"Morning, boss."

"You look like a zombie that crawled out of the ground." Though he lost his hair years ago, Mr. Ngo had never lost his Vietnamese accent, nor his love for campy monster movies from the eighties. I have him to thank for my own love of horror, and half my DVD collection.

"I could definitely go for a skull full of brains right about now." Listen, I wasn't good at clever comebacks. "How are your joints doing?"

His expression didn't change, which meant that they were indeed hurting and didn't want me to know. "I'll tell you when it's your business."

"Sure thing, boss."

"Anything left to do today?"

"Nothing that can't wait until the weather clears."

He paused, looking at me in a way that made my insides squirm. I hated when he got sympathetic and fatherly. "Phan made banh mi today. I'll meet you in the office."

"Braiiiins."

He gave me a look, and drove off. His wife always made something for me, since my own family is half a country and two time zones away. She's an angel, and, if I didn't think my mom would disown me for ever saying such a thing out loud, I'd ask her to be my second mom, too.

Thankfully, lunch wasn't the worst thing ever. Mr. Ngo had taken a few days to accept Josie and I were properly broken up, and was still dealing with the fact that neither of us had any intention of getting back together. Any friendship we might have had post - relationship had been ruined with how long we'd drawn things out, and I still bristled when she was brought up in conversation.

I told him to thank Phan for lunch as always, and, now that I was off the clock, I let myself brood broodily back home.

#writeblr #wip #mystuff #writing #graveyard lesbians #gl #gl chapter #lgbtq fiction #wlw fiction

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unit2-ss24 · 7 months

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The 1920s - part 2

The Look

Typical underwear of the 1920s

This advertisement for the new freedom corset helped women to achieve the flat shapes and less figure hugging look required to make the fashions of the 1920s look good on the every day woman.

The new stylish look of the 1920s

The Eaton crop was a revolution in hair styles.

Feathered headbands and turbans were the look of the era, they were often the image associated with the La Garconne / flapper look in which was inspired by the art nouveau style left over from the 1910′s and by the mid 1920′s. If you chose to wear one, you pushed it well back and lost the feathers. Sequined caps were also a big thing and heavily ornamented were also popular. Hat Fashion went side by side with hair styles. The big decision facing many women was to Bob or not to Bob, to Crop or not to Crop, or just play safe go with the Fingerwave style.

Menswear

The Prince of Wales was the ambassador for British fashion and fabrics across the world.

In 1922, Fair Isle knits were made fashionable by the Prince of Wales when he wore one on the golf course at St Andrews.

The Prince’s support of the Fair Isle sweater probably helped to save the knitting industry that remains to this day on the small Scottish island.

During 1925 the men wore ‘bum freezer’ length jackets. Here we see gentlemen at the races in the new relaxed jackets.

Sporting wear in England consisted of white flannel trousers and blazers. This was a very relaxed and elegant look.

The 1920s passion for dressing soft extended to fabrics as well as to patterns and colours, tweed was extremely popular. Often in gaudy checks and bright stripes.

1925 marks the year that Oxford bags were born, they replaced the slim trousers worn by most young men. For the next 30 years, loose fitting trousers would remain the fashionable fit. The image below shows the comfortable functional aspects of the original 28 inch grow to 40 inch.

Day wear may have become more relaxed but when it came to evening wear men where still expected to wear black tie and tails. Below we see a typical evening scene with men dressed in black dickie-bows and evening suits. This was a universal style adopted by all men which we still see today.

Rudolph Valentino was the heart throb of the silent movies and influenced the hairstyle shown below of American and English men. The look was achieved by soaking the hair and wrapping the head in linen bandages until it dried.

Men’s shoes came in a variety of styles and patterns – perfect for ‘cutting a rug’ in the roaring twenties (1925)

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marketing2011 · 15 days

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#Golf accessories #Golf belts #Golf hat for women #Golf Accessories for women Golf Caps for Women #mens Golf Caps

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marketing1106 · 1 year

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#Golf accessories #Golf belts #Golf hat for women #Golf Accessories for women #Golf Caps for Women #Womens Golf Caps

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 1 year

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What if Mitch McConnell, at the close of his scalding speech on the Senate floor blaming Donald Trump for the riot that occurred at the Capitol on Jan. 6, had promised to use his every last breath to ensure that Trump was convicted on impeachment charges and could never, ever become president again?

What if Melania Trump, after the porn star Stormy Daniels said Trump had unprotected sex with her less than four months after Melania gave birth to their son, had thrown all of Trump’s clothes, golf clubs, MAGA hats and hair spray onto the White House lawn with this note, “Never come back, you despicable creep!”

What if the influential evangelical leader Robert Jeffress, after Trump was caught on tape explaining that as a TV star he felt entitled to “grab” women in the most intimate places — or after Trump was found liable by a Manhattan jury of having done pretty much just that to E. Jean Carroll — declared that he would lead a campaign to ensure that anyone but Trump was elected in 2024 because Trump was a moral deviant whom Jeffress would not let babysit his two daughters, let alone the country?

Where would statements and actions like those have left Kevin McCarthy, his knuckleheads in the House G.O.P. caucus, and other Republicans who now are defending Trump against the Justice Department indictment? Would they be so eager to proclaim Trump’s innocence? Would they be raging against Tuesday’s hearing in Miami? Would they be claiming, falsely, that President Biden was indicting Trump, when they know full well that the president doesn’t have the power to indict anyone?

I doubt it. But I know that all of these questions are rhetorical. None of those people have the character to rise to these ethical challenges and take on Trump and what he has done to break our political system. Trump is like a drug dealer who thrives in a broken neighborhood, getting everyone hooked on his warped values. That is why he is doing everything he can to break our national neighborhood in two fundamental ways.

For starters, Trump has consistently tried to denigrate people who have demonstrated character and courage, by labeling them losers and weaklings. This comes easy to Trump because he is a man utterly without character — devoid of any sense of ethics or loyalty to any value system or person other than himself. And for him, politics is a blood sport in which you bludgeon the other guys and gals — whether they are in your party or not — with smears and nicknames and lies until they get out of your way.

Trump debuted this strategy early on with John McCain — a veteran, a man who never broke in five-plus years as a prisoner of war in North Vietnam, a man of real character. Do you remember what Trump said about McCain at a family leadership summit in Ames, Iowa, on July 18, 2015?

When McCain ran for president, “I supported him,” Trump told the audience. “He lost. He let us down. But he lost. So I never liked him much after that, because I don’t like losers.” When the audience laughed, the moderator, the pollster Frank Luntz, interjected, “But he’s a war hero!”

Trump — who wangled a dubious medical deferment to avoid the Vietnam War draft — then responded: “He’s not a war hero. He’s a war hero because he was captured. I like people that weren’t captured.” Later that day, Trump retweeted a web post headlined, “Donald Trump: John McCain Is ‘A Loser.’”

So part of the way Trump tries to break our system is to redefine the qualities of a leader — at least in the G.O.P. A leader is not someone like Liz Cheney or Mitt Romney, people prepared to risk their careers to defend the truth, serve the country and uphold the Constitution. No, a leader is someone like him, someone who is ready to win at any cost — to the country, to the Constitution and to the example we set for our children and our allies.

And when that is your definition of leadership, of winning, people of character like McCain, Cheney and Romney are in your way. You need to strip everyone around you of character, and make everything about securing power and money. That is why so many people who entered Trump’s orbit since 2015 have walked away muddied. And that’s why I knew that all the questions I asked earlier were rhetorical.

The second way that Trump is trying to break our system was on display on Tuesday in Miami, where he followed his appearance as a federal criminal defendant with a political meet-and-greet at a Cuban restaurant. There, once again, Trump tried to discredit the rules of the game that would restrain him and his limitless appetite for power for power’s sake.

How does he do that? First, he gets everyone around him — and, eventually, the vast majority of those in his party — to stop insisting that Trump abide by ethical norms. His family members and party colleagues have grown adept at running away from reporters’ microphones after every Trump outrage.

But precisely because key political allies, church leaders and close family members will not call out Trump for his moral and legal transgressions — which would make his 2024 re-election bid unthinkable and hasten his departure from the political scene — we have to rely solely on the courts to defend the rules of the game.

And when that happens, it puts tremendous stress on our judicial system and our democracy itself, because the decision to prosecute or not is always a judgment call. And when those judgment calls have to be rendered at times by judges or prosecutors appointed by Democrats — which is how our system works — it gives Trump and his flock the perfect opening to denounce the whole process as a “witch hunt.”

And when such behavior happens over and over across a broad front — because Trump won’t stop at red lights anywhere and just keeps daring us to ignore his transgressions or indict him so he can cry bias — we end up eroding the two most important pillars of our democratic system: the belief in the independence of our judiciary that ensures no one is above the law, and the belief in our ability to transfer power peacefully and legitimately.

Just consider one scene in Trump’s indictment. It’s after a federal grand jury subpoenaed him in May 2022, to produce all classified material in his possession. Notes written by his own lawyer, M. Evan Corcoran, quote Trump as saying: “I don’t want anybody looking through my boxes, I really don’t. … What happens if we just don’t respond at all or don’t play ball with them? Wouldn’t it be better if we just told them we don’t have anything here?”

“Wouldn’t it be better if we just told them we don’t have anything here?”

Better for whom? Only one man. And that’s why I repeat: Trump has not put us here by accident. He actually wants to break our system, because he and people like him only thrive in a broken system.

So he keeps pushing and pushing our system to its breaking point — where rules are for suckers, norms are for fools, basic truths are malleable and men and women of high character are banished.

This is exactly what would-be dictators try to do: Flood the zone with lies so the people trust only them and the truth is only what they say it is.

It is impossible to exaggerate what a dangerous moment this is for our country.

Thomas Friedman

New York Times

#NY Times #Tom Friedman #TFG #A Clear and Present Danger

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and-i-want-and-i-need · 2 years

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My Stadium Tour Experience

I finally saw the Stadium Tour after so long(I was 14 when I bought the tickets and I’m 17 next week so…). Anyway, here’s the quick summary

So I arrived like right when it started so I didn’t see Classless Act much, only one and half songs :/

Joan Jett

Ageless queen

Seriously she looks amazing for someone with her style and her age

And her voice….memorizing

I want to be Joan Jett when I get older

I sadly can’t recall the first song she played but the second one was Cherry Bomb and the stadium went wild

For an act that was 45 minutes it was so fun and I wish she had longer

Poison

So bands will play songs before they start to get the crowd hyped…they chose Welcome to the Jungle

Bret Michaels came run out onto the stage and went wild

I loved his energy so much

“Pretty Shiny boy Bret Michaels”-The ladies behind us

Y’all he had a harmonica solo and it went harder than it should have

C.C DeVille got his solo and the stadium was chanting his name

Did I know there was chance he would play Eruption and lead into Fallen Angel? Yes. Was I still prepared when it happened? Not at all

Every time you blink Bret Michaels has a different hat on

Something to Believe In *Mwah*

What was really cool was how Bret interacted with the fans. He let them touch his guitar and waved to them, and when he was driving back into the stadium, he stopped the golf cart and went and gave a few fans high fives

Mötley Crüe:

I saw tits

Okay yes I don’t like the Crüe much themselves but they know how to put on a show

That magic was kind of lost once the giant statues of women appeared and the focus was on the dancers….first portion was just pure rock and I loved that

There were two people dressed like 80’s rock stars, like, Party City kind of costumes and I thought it was funny

Nikki Sixx’s daughter was there and they showed him playing while engaging with her and yes, it was cute and every woman over forty went “awwww”

Nikki Sixx:* Talking to the crowd and has a towel* “Want this towel? Here, it’s like the one I gave your mom in 1986…that’s probably true actually*

Back to the tits, yes it was even Tommy was speaking and they were shown on the screen

“Three pairs of titties in Houston of all places…oh there we go.”

That was kind of funny because he looked like he had just been released into society after being locked up

In other news the guy next to us was a little too drunk….his friend were literally dragging him

I know Vince Neil can’t sing but…oh it was bad…The backing vocals and the crowd saved him

MICK MARS MY MAN! He was just rocking in his corner and I love him for that

Def Leppard

There was a timer and that was the longest ten minutes of my life

They started with Take What You Want and I would have sang along if I didn’t become paralyzed in awe and excitement

It never felt real. The whole thing was like the best dream of my life

Sav*does the thing* Me: HE DID THE THING

Joe Elliott I luv u 🥺

Sav wasn’t shown enough on the screens :(

They started playing Armageddon It and I went ballistic

*This Guitar* My mom: this is so good why haven’t you play me this song :(

I will mom I will I promise you

RICK ALLEN THE THUNDER GOD AT THE FRONT OF THE STAGE GOING AT IT AND THEN AGAIN A FEW SONGS LATER IN THE BACK

I did not expect Promises for some reason so I was shocked when they played it but it was BEAUTIFUL

Y’all Hysteria had clips of them ove the years and newspaper headings on how awesome they were and I got teary eye

Two Steps Behind>>> And when it was just Joe at the end oml he’s an Angel the lighting his voice amdbaldnalshwpdbd

They love each other so much it’s adorable I want that kind of bond and I hope I have it with my friends

Rick walking around with his little maraca ❤️❤️

Rick:*epic solo* Me: THATS WHY IVE WRITTEN THREE ESSAYS ABOUT THEM

“From my head to my…” I got that on video fyi

“Rick has something to say” “Gunter Glieben Glauchen Globen” *Chaotic screaming*

There were two drunk girls dancing in front of us and they weee just having the time of our life and it was cool to see

Did not expect them to end with Photograph…but it was an amazing ending

They could have gone on for hours and I would have enjoyed every single moment

They played Kings Of The World on the speakers when it was all over so it was a giant stadium just singing along…beautiful

I could go on and on but I won’t I might upload some photos and videos

In all, the best concert I’ve ever to. The crowd was much fun and you can tell everyone wanted to be there. I didn’t know if I wanted to be a rockstar or a middle age woman reliving her youth with her friends. Seeing Def Leppard was so surreal and unbelievable, and everyone was amazing(Vince…Vince tries. He tries).11/10 experience

#I would have posted this earlier but I took a melatonin in the car then woke up at 7:20 then went to a PSAT class that lasted till noon #then I got stuck in traffic and then I had to do homework and then I was talking to a friend and yea #def leppard #what am i doing with my life #mötley crüe #joan jett and the blackhearts #Joan Jett #poison band #y’all that was amazing #best night of my life

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fairmondegolf · 1 year

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Just another day on the green with my Fairmonde Golf squad! 💪⛳️

And let's talk about this game-changing fashion statement: the Nike Golf Bucket Hat! 😎🏌️‍♀️🧢

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So, ladies, if you're ready to up your golf fashion game, head over to Fairmonde Golf and grab your very own Nike Golf Bucket Hat. Trust me, it's a game-changer! 🏌️‍♀️🧢💕

#golffashion #golfers #womens golf #bucket hat #women sports #fashionforward

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feminismisstillahatemovement · 2 years

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WASHINGTON, D.C. — With many Americans up in arms over the unprecedented raid of former President Trump's residence in Mar-a-Lago by the FBI, Attorney General Garland released a statement to assure everyone the raid was completely justified. Eyewitnesses noted he looked unusually fetching in an elegant Dolce & Gabbana evening gown and a Dior sun hat.

"We wouldn't raid Trump's Mar-a-Lago estate or Melania's wardrobe unless it was absolutely, 100% necessary," said Garland. "I resent any accusation that this raid was influenced by partisan politics or my insatiable desire to wear pretty designer dresses." The Attorney General then did a little spin in his purple gown as the press gasped with delight.

FBI Director Christopher Wray echoed the statement as he strode up to the Hoover Building in a dazzling pair of diamond-encrusted Alexander McQueen stilettos. "The men and women of the FBI are paragons of unassailable integrity and impartiality, and any suggestion otherwise is murderous treason," he said. Several news outlets present also noted the delicious smell of Chanel No.5 in the air.

At publishing time, Trump had taken to Truth Social to announce that all his golf clubs were also missing.

#trump #FBI #the babylon bee

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anarchistettin · 1 year

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some birthday

just thought I'd paste in an article that's behind a paywall

By Shane Goldmacher and Maggie Haberman

Reporting from Bedminster, N.J.

June 13, 2023

Donald J. Trump went to bed Tuesday night, on the eve of his 77th birthday, as a now twice-indicted former president and current front-runner for the Republican nomination for the White House in 2024.

“Some birthday,” Mr. Trump grumbled on Tuesday as he visited Versailles, a popular Cuban coffee shop in Miami. “Some birthday.”

He had just been arraigned on federal charges. His co-defendant was working as his valet. And he didn’t eat Cuban — he had McDonald’s. On his plane headed back to New Jersey from Miami, Mr. Trump ate the fast food while holding court with advisers and finishing edits on the speech he would soon deliver and mostly adhere to.

The surreal scene that awaited him at his private club in Bedminster, N.J., was a blend somewhere between a summer garden wedding and a political victory party. There was an air of an almost post-arraignment celebration as women arrived in their finery: fuchsia and canary yellow dresses, embroidered Trump wares and heels. Men sported suits and red MAGA hats.

Then Mr. Trump arrived. Visibly deflated after pleading not guilty for the second time in three months, his dry and low-energy resuscitation of his legal defense — even inflected with the usual references to Marxists, Communists and fascists — pleased his advisers but drew a relatively muted response from a crowd that had minutes earlier craned their phones for a shot of his motorcade.

He had entered to the same track — “God Bless the USA” by Lee Greenwood — that he has used as an entrance theme so many times before. On Tuesday, the chorus landed differently.

New revelations. The 49-page indictment against Donald Trump and a personal aide, Walt Nauta, revealed a host of potentially devastating new details in the Justice Department’s inquiry into the former president’s mishandling of classified documents. Here are some of the most significant allegations:

There was a stunning pattern of obstruction. Prosecutors say Trump willfully ignored a May 2022 subpoena requiring him to return the documents — and took extraordinary steps to obstruct investigators. The indictment details how Nauta, at Trump’s direction, moved 64 boxes of documents so that Trump’s lawyer could not find them.

Boxes of documents were stored in a bathroom. In April 2021, Trump’s employees needed to move dozens of boxes from a ballroom at his Mar-a-Lago estate. “There is still a little room in the shower where his other stuff is,” one aide texted another. The boxes were hauled to a small bathroom and piled up nearly to the tiny chandelier next to the toilet.

Documents were stored sloppily. The indictment shows a picture of a box of top secret national security documents that in 2021 had spilled onto the floor of a Mar-a-Lago storage room accessible to many of the resort’s employees.

Trump made a “plucking motion.” The indictment recounts how Trump and his lawyer discussed what to do with a folder of 38 documents with classification markings. The lawyer said Trump made a “plucking motion” that implied, “why don’t you take them with you to your hotel room and if there’s anything really bad in there, like, you know, pluck it out.”

Trump was recorded sharing secrets. The indictment says Trump was recorded at his golf club in Bedminster, N.J., showing off secret U.S. battle plans to a writer. Trump described the material as “highly confidential” and “secret,” while admitting it had not been declassified.

Trump showed a secret map to a staff member. In August or September 2021, Trump shared a top secret military map with a staff member at his political action committee who did not have a security clearance; he warned the person not to “get too close.”

One of Trump’s lawyers is a key witness. Some of the most potentially damning evidence against the former president came from notes made by one of his lawyers, M. Evan Corcoran. The lawyer’s notes essentially gave prosecutors a road map to building their case.

“I did everything right,” Mr. Trump declared in his 30-minute speech, “and they indicted me.”

When he finished, he barely lingered to take in the applause. He gave an obligatory fist pump and mouthed thanks to the crowd. Then he turned and went inside.

All told, the day encapsulated the remarkable numbness to the extraordinary that has defined the Trump era. The former president entered federal court as a criminal defendant, and now faces hundreds of years in prison. The Republican front-runner’s early 2024 calendar now includes not only key caucuses and primaries but court dates. His rivals are at times contorting themselves while discussing his alleged crimes; one circulated a petition on Tuesday demanding they all promise to pardon him.

Mr. Trump’s appearance in a Miami courtroom was a humiliating moment for a New York businessman with a 40-year history of engaging in gamesmanship with prosecutors and regulators, viewing most every interaction as a transaction or something he could bluster his way through. By 2017, he had the armor of the presidency protecting him when the first special counsel investigating him, Robert S. Mueller III, began his work. And by 2021, as investigations began into his efforts to thwart the transfer of power, he had come to see another campaign as a shield against prosecutions.

But that grandeur — and legal insulation — had vanished on Tuesday. Instead, Mr. Trump’s team tried to create the sense of a man still in power. In Bedminster, he spoke with the white columns of the main house of his New Jersey golf club behind him. The indictment became another backdrop for the ongoing Trump Show.

He was comforted by a motley assortment of his most fervent supporters. They included former President Richard Nixon’s son-in-law; a former New York Police Department commissioner whom Mr. Trump pardoned in the final year of his presidency; and a former administration official whom Mr. Trump named as a representative to the National Archives.

It was the National Archives that began the winding road that ended with Mr. Trump facing charges alleging that he had defied a subpoena and kept highly classified documents. The agency, which is in charge of preserving presidential records, spent most of 2021 trying to compel Mr. Trump to return boxes of materials that he had taken with him when he left the White House. So did some of his lawyers and advisers. When he finally returned 15 boxes in January 2022, archives officials discovered nearly 200 individual classified documents, and alerted the Justice Department.

On Tuesday night in Bedminster, what amounted to a red-carpet MAGA crowd mingled to a carefree playlist of Trump-favored throwbacks: “Macho Man” by the Village People, “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” by Frankie Valli, “We Will Rock You” by Queen, “Dancing Queen” by ABBA. Dozens of women wore matching red-white-and-blue outfits and chanted “We love Trump!” in unison as Mr. Trump was airborne.

The arraignment date happened to coincide with Mr. Trump’s first major fund-raiser, with those who had raised at least $100,000 invited to a “candlelight dinner” after his speech. The Trump campaign will be paying Mr. Trump’s private business in donor dollars for both events, a practice he has done for years.

Robert Jeffress, an evangelical pastor in Dallas and an early supporter who said he would not “abandon” Mr. Trump, got a call from a staffer for the former president on Monday, asking him to attend. He said Mr. Trump’s supporters saw the charges as “political.”

“I think they see this as Biden’s way of getting rid of his No. 1” opponent, he said, as music blared behind him.

Senator Tommy Tuberville, Republican of Alabama, missed votes in Washington to be there to cheer for Mr. Trump.

The gathering in Bedminster and Mr. Trump’s not-quite impromptu cafe stop in Miami were reminiscent of how he handled the gravest political threat he faced in his first 2016 campaign: the infamous “Access Hollywood” tape. Back then, he immersed himself in a crowd of his supporters outside Trump Tower. Now, he did so both at his own property and in a friendly corner of a city where he will soon face trial.

“You see where the people are,” Mr. Trump said after he was serenaded with a brief rendition of “Happy Birthday” at the Cuban cafe, called Versailles, where he also stopped to pose for a picture with a mixed martial arts fighter.

He seemed determined to project nonchalance as much as defiance. His co-defendant and valet, Walt Nauta, continued to assist him throughout the day, even as the judge cautioned against the two men discussing the case, after traveling to court as part of Mr. Trump’s motorcade staff. Ever image-conscious, Mr. Trump had entered the courthouse in Miami out of the sightlines of cameras, and he avoided a mug shot and handcuffs for the second time.

The act of indicting him, Mr. Trump said, “will go down in infamy.” And he pledged to appoint a “real special prosecutor” once he’s president again to go after President Biden and his family.

“The seal is broken by what they’ve done,” he added.

#ha ha #de-walled

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