#(all of these are rhetorical questions. i dont want an actual answer or reply to any of those lol)

[morphogenetic]

my life has just turned into an endless grading cycle. i spent 6 hours grading one hw set today (and may not even be done with it lol). i ALSO have two more hws and a midterm (+ 1 more midterm once it hits wednesday) to grade. just kill me now lol

[billthedrake]

LITTLE BRO'S HOMECOMING

Joseph Murphy didn't even have to knock on the hotel door. He'd texted Kyle to get the room number and as he strode up to 1139 in the downtown Boston hotel, the door opened right up.

Kyle was dressed in his Marines cammies - either he hadn't had time to change since checking in or else he wanted to be in uniform for the older man. A big smile formed on the 21 year old's face. "Hey," he muttered as he stepped aside to let the beefy cop enter.

"Hey yeuself," Joe hissed in his thick New England accent as he stepped right up to the young Marine and placed his hands around the stud's waist, drawing him in.

Their kiss was hot. A tongue heavy, facing sucking kind of kiss. Officer Murphy didn't do finesse, and it turns out Kyle Smith was A-OK with that. It had been TOO long since they'd been together, or even seen each other. They'd had a conversation before Kyle's deployment about whether they were dating. The cop didn't feel comfortable with that, and Joe hadn't even reached out to the Marine over the last few months. It was only an instant reply that Kyle received when he said he was coming home that made him realize there was still a spark there.

More than a spark. Officer Murphy was pawing at the ridge of hard military cock in the camo pants. And Kyle was feeling up all the cop beef through the man's long-sleeve Pats T-shirt. THIS was the young man's type to a T. Some heft on his bones, thick muscle, a beer belly. It had been the body Kyle had been into since he first started jacking off. Joe reminded him of his middle school wrestling coach - and even, if he was honest, of his own father.

Officer Murphy was even a dyed-in-the-wool working class New Englander like Kyle's father, only more brash even.

Indeed, the booming voice came as he backed off. "How's my fuckin' parn stah doin?" the cop bellowed, fingers tracing the long ridge of Marine meat sticking up in the uniform.

"Holy fuck, I missed you, man," Kyle said with a big grin. Maybe that was too much to say, but he felt it.

"I bet ya did," Joe said as he crouched down, fingers already fumbling with the uniform. "I know how to take care of this bad boy."

The cop's fingers felt good as they undid the trousers. "Are we gonna wait?" Kyle asked. "I mean, we said..."

Already the cop's big mitt was on the young stud's boner, pulling it out and gently stroking it. "You got a couple in ya, Corporal," he growled. "Come on, Jesus, four months and ya gonna fuckin' blue ball me?"

Officer Murphy didn't give Kyle a chance to answer. The question was rhetorical anyway. Because already he was taking the thick, long tool into his mouth.

"Oh fuck... fuck yes," Kyle hissed as he felt the police officer's hot wet mouth go down on him. The cop sucked dick like he kissed. No finesse. But it was amazing, especially after no sex for the last four months.

The Marine didn't realize he was carrying around so much tension in his body, but as Joe blew him, he felt himself relax, his stance widening just a little and his hand placed gently on top of the man's medium-short hair. He'd experienced a Joe Murphy BJ in full Boston Police uniform. THAT had been incredible, but even now he loved looking down on the man's thick-set daddy bod, face getting redder as he bobbed up and down more quickly. Kyle was still in full uniform, for his part, and he suspected that was driving Joe wild.

"It's not gonna take me long," Kyle warned.

The cop spit out his cock. "Dont ya dare, buddy." He wiped the spit off his chin with the back of his hand and leaned back. Kyle loved that view of him, the way it showed off Officer Murphy's broad rounded shoulders and massive chest.

Kyle knew what the man meant. He actually didn't have a lot of experience with other men. He'd met Joe Murphy when he was still 18, still a senior in high school. But the sex was electric between them. Joe was such a deeply sexual man, and the cop's hunger for a younger top, a much younger top, fueled Kyle's own lust.

"On the bed, Officer," he hissed.

Joe broke into a huge grin. Standing up, he started undoing his jeans and kicking off his sneakers.

"Keep that fuckin' unifo'm on buddy," he growled.

Kyle nodded. "That's 'Corporal Smith' to you, Officer."

"All right, Corporal," Joe chuckled. "Don't hold back. Just go for it, OK?"

Kyle was getting lightheaded now, he was so horny. Especially seeing Murphy pull off that T and reveal that beefy daddy bod. His big brother had teased him once when he showed him a picture of his cop lover. "You a chaser, Kyle?" Brandon had laughed. Kyle stood his ground those. The beer belly on such a meaty frame did something for him. He liked having a lot of daddy to hold onto.

That lot of daddy was naked now and crawling onto one of the queen beds on all fours. Kyle got in place.

"Aw yeah, eat my hole, Corporal. Aw, fuck yeah... root around with that tongue buddy. Get up in daddy's ass. Oh, fucking nasty, buddy."

Kyle remembered the first time he rimmed Joe Murphy he was worried the man would get freaked out. But it was one of Kyle's favorite things to watch in porn, so he just went for it. As they say, history was made. He and Joe rarely had sex without some ass eating.

Still, both knew it wasn't going to be a long rim session. Their absence had been too long. Kyle leaned back up on his haunches and gave a light slap to the cop's surprisingly smooth rump. Leaning over, he pumped out a couple of squirts of lube, which he applied to his boner, and then to Joe's hole.

The cop wasn't exactly slutty, but he was wanton in taking taking cock. Spreading his legs and wiggling his ass some as Kyle fingered him. Then, as Joe felt that thick piece of Marine cock bore in, he hissed and did his best to relax.

"Easy, buddy... easy... I'm fuckin' tight... ya gotta open daddy back up for business OK?"

"Yeah," Kyle hissed. He didn't want to cum yet. He knew if he could get through the penetration he'd be good for a bit.

Joe's verbal streak quieted down as Kyle slowly penetrated the older man. Murphy had lied about his age when they first met on the app, but the cop was 50. Squarely middle aged. The young man sometimes wondered why he was wired for older men, men like Murphy. But now that he was boning Joe, he didn't feel the need to question, his heart and mind and cock knew this is what he wanted.

Finally his balls pressed against the man's ass.

"God, yes," the Marine hissed. THIS was what a homecoming should be.

"I can feel your uniform against me, Corporal," Joe said in a surprisingly quiet tone. "So very hot."

Kyle held the man's waist. The skin was hot to the touch. "I dreamed about doing this in the barracks," he hissed. "Even fantasized about banging the Master Sergeant."

That got a chuckle from Joe beneath him. "I bet ya did, buddy. Just as I've had the hots for the new rookie on the force. Fresh faced fucker."

Kyle pulled back and pushed back in. Not fast, not yet. But he could feel the cop's insides open up for him, some.

"Anyone else fucking you, Joe?" he asked, an edge to his voice.

The reply was quiet. "A couple, Kyle," the cop answered. "It gets lonely, you know."

"Yeah," Kyle said, sadly. He wished he was the only one. But they'd never had that conversation. This was probably not the time to have it. "Man, I wish we didn't live so far apart."

The next thrust was hard, real hard. It knocked the wind out of Joe a little, and if Kyle hadn't fucked the cop like this before he would have been concerned.

"Give me a sec," Joe finally hissed.

Kyle slowed his roll and watched as the man reached over for his own squirt of lube.

The Marine didn't need to be told to resume fucking. That's how it was between him and Joe. Perfect synchronization of needs. The minute he saw the man reach down to jerk his cock, Kyle started fucking hard. Jack hammer thrusts in and out of the man's now relaxed hole.

"That's it, stud... horse hung Marine gonna fuck my cop ass..."

"Fuckin' take it, Officer," he hissed. Getting into it.

With other men Kyle had fucked it wasn't like this. It was usually fucking for his own pleasure or for the bottom's. But he and Joe Murphy were on the same wavelength, the older man rapidly jerking while Kyle threw his strength into hard fucking the beefy daddy.

Just the sight of the man's bare back, strong and full, and the love handles and the way Joe's face turned redder when he was getting close to cumming. Kyle felt that light headed feeling again and knew the cum was already traveling up his piss tube, pumping out from his balls.

"Oh FUCK!" he whimpered.

"SHIT!" Joe grunted.

Their orgasm was simultaneous. Kyle's body clenched and held still as his dick continued to unload inside the man. It had actually taken a few times to talk Officer Murphy into barebacking, but now he couldn't imagine sex between the two any other way. This was just sex, and it was just the hormones talking, but Kyle was in love with the man.

He started to pull back, but he saw Joe's hand reach back, as if to stop him. "Don't, Kyle... stay in me for a while longer, OK?"

The Marine nodded and placed his hand softly on Joe's lower back, feeling up the clammy sweaty muscle. He wondered if his dick was going to go soft. It usually did after a cum like that, but being connected with the police officer meant it still felt rock hard.

***

Brandon Smith waited in the hotel bar, sipping his beer. He was always a little nervous waiting for Preston, but he was getting that pit-in-his-stomach now. Maybe this was a bad idea.

But it only took the sight of his sorta boyfriend in the mirror to brighten up. Preston Weldman cut the vision of a real executive, as tall as Brandon, and his figure looking fit in slacks and a sport coat. The gray temples were the icing on the cake, so to speak. Brandon felt an instant chub in his jeans.

"Hope you haven't been waiting long," the business exec said as he sidled up to the hunky 32-year-old. He placed a hand on Brandon's shoulder. Not obvious but the touch felt electric between the two men.

"No," Brandon shook his head. "Anyway, it's good people watching here," he said.

Preston smiled. "Scoping out the business daddies?" he whispered. He knew Brandon's type. It was how they'd met each other on an app when Brandon was back home visiting family. Leaning in more, he growled. "You're looking really good, Sergeant Smith."

Brandon's heart pounded. "SO good to see you, Press." That had been his nickname for the man. Then, his eyes sweeping up and down, something clicked. "You're not wearing your wedding ring?"

Preston shrugged. "You disappointed?" he joked. "The divorce isn't final but it feels like it, you know?"

Brandon nodded and with concern asked, "How you doing?"

"We'll talk about it later, OK? We have the whole weekend, right?"

Brandon smiled. Long distance was tough, and there was military life on top of that. But maybe that's what worked for this divorced hunk. He had his own busy career to deal with, and his kids, too. "Yeah. I have some stuff I wanna talk about too."

"Yeah?" Preston replied. "You wanna talk about it now, kiddo?"

Brandon shook his head. "I think the guys are up in the room waiting for us."

Preston's lust was visible on his face, even if he normally had that WASPy repressed thing going on. "Sure you're OK with this?"

Brandon laughed. "I was gonna ask you the same thing, Press." He stood up and set down some cash to pay for his beer. "It'll be way hot."

"You're bringing out my naughty side for sure." Preston was definitely in a good mood.

Brandon leaned in and whispered. "How do you think I feel? He's my brother." Then he pulled back and gave a wink to the man before grabbing his overnight bag. "Come on, let's go up."

Even on the elevator ride up, the two couldn't keep their eyes off each other. Preston still couldn't believe he'd scored a young man as hot as Brandon Smith. 6'3" ex-football jock, his body honed by years in the US Marine Corps. The 26-year-old was like a porn character come to life. The superstitious, or realist, part of Preston knew this affair was on borrowed time, that Brandon would move on. But he'd sure as hell enjoy the ride.

***

Joe had dozed off but the knock on the hotel room woke him up. He was naked in the damp, disheveled hotel bed. The kid had gone for seconds, all right, and the middle-aged cop felt well and truly fucked. Like, a sleepy, tired and satisfied level of truly fucked.

The man felt bad for telling Kyle about the hookups he'd had. But he didn't want to hold back from the young man. Besides, there had just been two men over the last few month. They hadn't meant a thing and certainly couldn't hold a candle to Kyle fuckin' Smith.

Another knock came. Louder.

"All right," Joe called out. "Coming!"

He jumped out of the bed and sauntered over to the door. He could hear the shower running, and realized Kyle was in there.

Brandon and Preston were surprised to see the door fling open to reveal the full nakedness of a thick-set 50-ish man they'd never met. Lightly furred front, soft dick dangling beneath.

"Come in, fellas," Joe said. "Kyle's in the shower." Unceremoniously he turned and let the men indoors.

It took a second for Joe to pick up on their reaction. "Why be shy, right?" he said in his thick accent. He flashed an impish smile. "I can cover up if it bothers you though."

"Guess you're right," Brandon said. He held out his hand. "I'm Brandon."

Joe took the hand in his own strong mitt and shook it. "Definitely see the family ressemblance."

"Joe," the cop said.

"Preston," the businessman said as he greeted the cop.

"Jesus what the fuck kind of name is Preston?" Joe quipped.

Brandon got angry. Protective and angry. "We can call this off," he said through gritted teeth.

"Call what off?" came Kyle's voice as he stepped out, towel wrapped around his waist.

Preston's eyes noticeably showed excitement. If he had to pick, he'd choose Brandon's body, but Kyle had a shorter, more compact build that was scrlpted with tight, rounded young muscle.

Kyle immediately picked up on the vibe. "Jesus, Joe. Did you shoot off your mouth again?"

The cop looked genuinely contrite. "Sorry fellas. Guess I'm shitty at first impressions. Preston," he said, turning to the other daddy in the group. "I'm sorry man. Really. That was a shitty thing to say."

"All right," he said in a clipped Yankee accent. "I guess we're not here on a date or anything," he joked.

Joe nodded. "Yeah, the Smith brothers are the stars of the weekend, right?"

Brandon looked at Kyle. "You guys already get started?" he asked his brother.

Kyle nodded. "Yeah, couldn't wait, sorry."

Brandon turned to look at his lover. "I wouldn't mind a little one-on-one time with Press first."

"Yeah, babe?" Preston asked. He wasn't sure how this scene would play out. But as much as he wanted to see Kyle in action, he was drawn to Brandon first and foremost.

The hunky marine pulled Preston closer to him, then guided his arms around the man's waist to draw him into a kiss. It was soft and sensual. Brandon Smith was SUCH an amazing kisser, and inspired Preston to give his best in return.

"We can give ya guys some space," Joe spoke up. Amused to see a version of what he and Kyle had just experienced.

"Yah," Brandon almost said. Only Press' hand gripped his arm.

"It's OK if they watch babe," he said. The older man had a playful look on his face. "I kind of want 'em to."

Brandon looked at Preston in amusement. This buttoned-down divorced dad had a way of surprising him. "OK, he said.

Kyle was still in his towel as he sat on the bed, feeling Joe settle in behind him. The cop's mitts felt good feeling up his ripped Marine muscles. If Kyle hadn't just fucked the man, twice, he'd be boning up fast.

"You OK with this, Kyle?" Brandon asked.

Kyle nodded. "Go for it, bro. It'll be hot to see you guys."

That was all the green light it took for Brandon and Preston. It was like it was just them, alone in the room, even as they were also aware of putting on a show. They slowly stripped each other and made out.

About the only thing to break the spell was the cop's outburst when Brandon removed Press's button-down shirt, revealing a DILF-y gym-toned body.

"Holy fucking shit, he's a frickin' magazine model."

The cop's loudmouth approach had rubbed him the wrong way, but now he enjoyed having Preston's amazing body recognized.

The lovers were soon naked and Brandon was reclining them down on the other bed. Kissing softly even as their bodies humped more urgently. They were matched in height, but Brandon had some more muscle on him, and Preston was feeling up every inch with his hands.

Soon the older man was parting his legs, letting Brandon's body find that spot between them. Their kissing grew more impassioned, until Brandon leaned up.

"Fuck you feel so good, Press," he sighed. "I love ya, man."

"Love you, too, Big B." This was the only thing that made Preston self conscious about having an audience. But he knew this was part of sex between him and Brandon. The emotional openness.

"I need to be inside you, Dad," Brandon hissed.

"Please," Preston said. "I need you, Son."

Joe felt Kyle's body tense in his arms. The cop was a pervy enough man that the dad-son play didn't phase him. But he sensed it hit differently for Kyle. This was his brother, talking about "Dad." Joe just held the 21-year-old tight against him and kissed the side of his neck.

"OK?" he whispered.

"Yeah," Kyle whispered back.

Then Joe felt Kyle's hand grip his forearm, pulling it down. Joe thought the kid was rejecting his embrace but instead Kyle guided Joe's hand lower, right to the towel, where there was a ridge of hard dick. The kid was turned on.

"Jesus, it's a like a Lifetime movie," Joe almost said, but restrained himself. Everything was so frickin sensuous between the other couple. Even the lubing of cocks and the fingering of Preston's hole. The man was glas Kyle was into more animalistic fucking. The kid always had been, even at 18.

At last the divorced exec lifted his toned legs, and Brandon gingerly positioned the ankles on his meaty shoulders. The two locked eyes, silently, lovingly.

And Brandon entered his daddy lover.

Preston winced at entry but after a second, his hands were on Brandon's muscle ass, coaxing him to push in further.

"Not gonna last long today, Dad," Brandon hissed. "You feel so fucking good."

"We got all weekend, Son," Press countered. Before Brandon he didn't enjoy bottoming. Hell, the times he fooled around with men he usually preferred getting head. But this Marine had a way of rocking his world, turning it upside down. Of making him want cock like this. "Fuck me. Fuck your father."

Brandon let out a low deep grunt and powered in. Slowly, sensually at first. God he was SO turned on. Being with Press, hearing that roleplay talk. But also know his little bro was watching. "I'm gonna go a little harder, sir," he hissed.

"Do it!" Press urged.

And like that came a serious of slow, rough thrusts.

"Yes!" the exec grunted. Only Brandon could make him love it like this, too. Hard, with a roughness to each inward push of that meaty cock. "Attaboy."

Brandon had a few trigger words and that was one of them. He knew orgasm was coming now. So he humped more excitedly, hard stokes working to get himself off with this perfect man's ass.

"Yeah, Dad," he hissed. "Gonna cum!"

He felt Press's hands caress his sides, encouraging him to give it up.

"UNNGH!" Brandon grunted and unloaded.

"Yes!" Press said excitedly. He loved watching his Big B cum, loved seeing that mix of youthful masculinity and almost childish need. Already he was stroking his dick to get his own nut.

Brandon took a second to come down from the high but when he did he started working his dick in and out of Press's warm hole. Fucking slowly but hard, the way Press liked it.

The older man wasn't a loud cummer, but Brandon knew how to read the signs. Sure enough. the middle-aged man's body clenched and white hot sperm flew out. Preston Weldman came a lot when he orgasmed.

Brandon pulled out and only then was self conscious that his brother and his brother's lover were looking on.

Kyle had a look that was clearly horny and maybe a little embarrassed. "Why don't we give you some space, Bro?" he said quietly.

The older brother rolled off Preston's body. "We freak you out, Kyle? I guess I should have warned you that we do the roleplay thing."

Joe spoke up. "Don't let the kid fool ya, he loved that shit."

"Jesus, Joe," Kyle objected. But the man was right.

Preston leaned up. He felt a strange fondness for Kyle, a dude he'd never met. "Kyle, it took me a while to get into it." He ran his hand up and down Brandon's strong back. "I don't know... your brother's a persuasive man."

"Eight inches is a lot of persuasion," Joe quipped. He'd just witness the other brother's endowment, and Brandon was as hung as Kyle, for sure.

"Joe, what the fuck?" Kyle pestered. But Brandon and Preston were smirking.

"Fuckin' Christ. What the fuck are we for? It's supposed to be a fun weekend, right?" He patted Kyle's chest affectionately and gave a soft, contrite kiss. "Come on, let's go get a pint and we can talk more at the pub." The cop pulled his meaty body back from his younger lovers and stepped off the bed. "Apparently we need to talk about 'ground rules' or some bullshit," he bellowed.

Brandon had to admit the policeman was growing on him.

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

Hey. This might be very stupid, but i hope you answer this.

Today I accidently got sucked into your blog, which is ironic since I'm a huge swiftie. (but I'm not here to hate on you, I swear)

The thing is for months I've been doubting where I stand on that. Like if i should call myself a swifte or not. when I was young, I used to worship the ground she walked on. but in the past year, I've slowly realised I've been very sheltered. like the problems people point out about her sometimes are actual real problems, but my brain just doesn't know how to respond to that as it has been taught taylor swift is a goddess and can do no wrong. Since your posts are tagged with #exswiftie, i figure you'd understand.

I am not from america, so I can understand then politics part of it all only to a certian extend. the other things, I just dont know what to say to that. The most i can reply is..."yes that is a bit of a problem". I feel don't feel like a swiftie at that moment.

I had fed my mind this narrative that people who hate taylor swift passionately are like untrustworthy or just a walking red flag, or just "don't get it". Now after reading your actual breakdowns I understand you have a rather educated opinion and perception of things. Which clearly rules out my narrative.

I don't know what I feel like I have to define where I stand on this, I just do. I know I genuinely enjoy her music a lot, even there are songs I don't want to hear more than once. I love the whole swiftie lore, digging deep on each lyrics finding out what they mean, finding clues easter eggs just losing my mind over surprise songs. Then i see this other side, which can't be defined with anything less than deeply toxic, which makes me question whether or not this thing i love so much is genuinely good or not.

Hello dear, apologies for the delay in reply :) I am happy to chat with you. I hope that you did not think I would ignore you.  

I was also a Swiftie for nearly 15 years. I got her debut record as a Christmas present in 2006 or 2007. Though I cannot remember which year it was, I loved her from the start. At 10 years old, I was immediately interested. My mother approved of me owning her music simply because she was inoffensive. She didn’t curse or talk about sex, in the beginning, so she was deemed appropriated for my childhood self.  She and I have since grown up. She is now a terribly pretentious bully- and, well, I grew up much too poor and much too hungry to turn into a bully like her. 

The problem- and something I think you’re very much aware of- is that Swift has built herself up in her fandom as perfect. She encourages fans to defend her every action- and rewards them for their efforts through “Swiftmas” or “Secret Sessions” or “hidden easter eggs that only the smartest- most dedicated fans will figure out.” It’s all methodically calculated to keep up an air of reciprocity between Swift, as the fearless leader, and her band of merry misfits- the fans.  

You are not dumb for falling into her rhetorical situation - she's set the marketing strategy up on purpose. It’s specifically created to attract attention- and, to make people feel good, or productive, by participating in her marketing strategy. She gives people an image of herself as a poor innocent victim of the media, or of any critique, and then rewards people for defending her. In Literary study, we call this “Pathos” as the rhetorical appeal to emotion through messaging- textual work of some kind. Rhetoric like this can be found in all sorts of media- commercials about starving children or beaten dogs, charity event banners aiming to persuade someone to donate. It’s all predicated on the appeal to our common emotion, or human capacity to empathize with each other. For, every time fans are rewarded by her attention- after defending her from a perceived enemy, or figuring out some hidden clue- they feel closer to the idol, they feel happy to have her attention. They get that emotional impact of believing they are helping Taylor Swift, or understanding her better on some more human, connected, level. It’s a game of risk and reward for her. Never mind that none of this altruistic- she gets paid through our attention on her- and if you are not directly lining her pockets with your cash money, she does not actually care about you. It’s the image of caring she projects that matters much more than the fact that she doesn’t actually care.

I’m sure you can think of many more examples wherein Swift has played this game of attention and reward with fans. It’s everywhere- her easter eggs are a great example. Sometimes her use of Pathos is benign- non malicious, therefore a non-issue. However, she often weaponizes this rhetoric in a way that is harmful.

This interplay she sets up, between herself and her fans, is made more intensive through her pathos- heavy approach to Rhetoric. To further illustrate, one of the ways people often explain Pathos is by saying that it represents our, as human beings, judgement affect. We see, or hear, the narrative Swift espouses and make judgements about it. If she says: The music critics are sexist towards me. We say: 1.) Sexism is morally wrong, 2.) Taylor Swift is facing sexism from Music critics, Therefore.) The music critics are sexist and morally wrong, because they are criticizing Taylor Swift.

So, all the critics are bad- and we don't need to listen to them. It's also a way Swift creates permissive attitudes towards attacking anyone who critique's her- because she can so easily label them all as sexist.

She uses this basic syllogism to justify leveraging her fans against all kinds of people- it's not just the critics. I just wanted to give a concrete example, and I will go more in depth on this subject in another post.  

She is playing with people’s emotions, while she is also self-victimizing,and leveraging her audience’s innate human rejection of, for instance, sexism as it offends our personal values. No one is saying that sexism isn't morally corrupt; however, Taylor Swift points to valid criticism and calls it sexism so that her audience will attack. People often have valid critique of Swift- She just doesn't want to face critique at all- ever. If people say her music is too self-centered- Swift says that is Sexism. If people say her music is boring- she calls it sexism. If people say her music is shallow and only centered are relationships- She calls it sexism. When, in reality, it's valid criticism that has nothing to do with her being a woman. Only ever writing songs about your own myopic, self-centered perception of interpersonal relationships is shallow. Her music is objectively boring, because it's derivative. Her music is completely self-centered- and she only admits to that when it benefits her, but when critics say it, she calls it sexism.

Please don’t think badly of yourself. I am not here to hate on you either- I was you. I am not here to hate on anyone at all- I just want to share how my own knowledge, and expertise, of rhetorical appeals and literary analysis can expose Taylor Swift. Swift relies on this rhetorical technique to thrive, she obfuscates the truth, schemes, and manipulates people into thinking her music is the best thing on Earth- or thinking that she is literally a Saint. Clearly- nothing on Earth is that perfect- So why does she need her fan base to consider her a genius, and a saint, so badly?

Personally, I have no problem admitting I have flaws. I think most sane people can admit to their flaws. It’s not a bad thing to have flaws. So why does Taylor Swift react to all criticism like it’s the worst thing on Earth. Why does she have a whole song about calling critics “mean/ and a liar/ and pathetic/ and alone in life” (“Mean” 2010). She has the nerve to call that song an “anti-bullying” song; yet, is it so clearly bullying that random critic who wrote a bad review about her concert one time in 2009? She really hated that guy- and all he was doing was his job. She called him a drunken loser for just doing his job. 

She's written so many songs about how all her critics are just stupid, morally corrupt, or sexist: "The Man" (2019), "Mean" (2010), "But Daddy I love Him" (2024), "New Romantics" (2014), "Shake it Off" (2014), "I know Places" (2014), "Anti-Hero" (2023), "Paris" (2023), "Blank Space" (2014), "I did something Bad" (2018), "Dancing with our hands tied" (2018). There are more songs wherein she carries this theme of "everyone is out to get me, and they all hate me for no good reason" but I think I've listed enough.

The general message is all over "Evermore" and "Folklore" too every time she calls the general public "Clowns" or "masqueraders"

It's just everywhere- her subtle devaluation of legitimate criticism. Trying to chalk it all up to the critics being simply dumb, sexist, or malicious in some way. Perhaps some people are mean- true- but to generalize every criticism as evil? That's just her actually playing a victim card. There's no way every single critic, or person who doesn't like her, is evil, bad, or malicious in some way. Okay?

I’m tired of her claiming to be an amazing person and an amazing poet- when she is just not either of those things. She’s not a kind person- it's all over her music in the ways she maliciously hurts people for fun. She’s not an amazing poet either. I have a few college degrees- and one pass through her work, with a serious intention of literary analysis, I discover that her writing is plain, banal, and derivative. 

She wants everyone to compare her to Emily Dickinson, Dylan Thomas, and Shakespeare. So, I’m doing what she wants and taking her work seriously enough to critique it. Except that, in critique, I find out why it’s all poorly written- and why it’s just a bunch of thinly veiled conservative iterations of the same boring message over and over. All she ever says in her music is “poor me” and “I hate” (insert person- Kim K., Kanye, Matty, Joe, Jake, John, Scooter, Scott, Harry, Calvin, the media at large, anyone who critiques her, and men in the music industry as a whole). She has the longest list of enemies I think I’ve ever seen- and the funny thing is that all these people avoid her at all costs. None of these people talk about her- yet she is still singing, writing songs, and getting her fans to post memes about how awful they are years, even decades, later.  

It all gets a bit tiresome? No? Personally, I don’t wish to live a life full of such self-pity and hatred- so why should I listen to it in music form? Ya know?  

In my posts, I am attempting to find the truth. I don’t want to “hate” on anyone or anything- but I am going to seek truth in her work.  

I will be posting more about how she devoids Shakespeare of his social reformist efforts. I’m going to post more about how she twists the meaning of every literary reference she’s ever made. I am not kidding, she has misrepresented, and misinterpreted every single literary reference in her entire discography. It’s astounding how hard Swift tries to sound thoughtful- without actually being thoughtful. I will be posting about how she only ever name-drops to either tear other people down or self-depreciate herself in effort to seek pity. I will be talking more about her use of rhetorical appeals to both attract an audience, keep their attention through risk-reward trade-off, and manipulate them into fighting her battles for her. I will be talking about how she upholds a bunch of harmful stereotypes in her music. She often alludes, or blatantly includes allusion to colonialist attitudes. She’s used the LGBT community for profit without making any real activist efforts. She’s leveraged feminism like a weapon against other women- yet never actually has feminist themes in her music. She’s just so painfully hollow- upon closer inspection.  

I don’t hate her as a person. I think she’s unethical, sure, but that doesn’t mean I hate her, want her to die, or anything extreme at all. I would never wish harm to another human being. In fact, after seeing a lot of the harmful stuff in her music, especially about her kind of fucked up views on relationships, I sincerely hope she gets some professional help and finds some peace in this world. When I critique Taylor Swift it’s about her work and her brand- It's not about her personhood.  

I just think that no one Earth is above reproach, or critique, and we must all be held accountable for our own actions. She’s the one that puts her work out there for people- It's therefore completely appropriate for me to discuss her work. 

Edit: Oh and I want to add- I wish you luck in figuring out what you really think about Taylor Swift. If you ever need to talk or vent more- my inbox is always open. :) With peace and love- bye bye

[vallyofshimmeringstars]

Part 6(9)

Tw: Manipulation/puke/cursing/ adult content read at your own risk

Spoilers: Michael and Lilith

Notes: hehe~

Part1 part 2 part3 part4 part5

Under the Blanket

Lucifer Sighed as he rubbed his head. “Do you have any idea What Michael said?” Diavolo shook his head. “No, but from what I know about him.” He paused curling his lips in. “It will be up to mammon” Diavolo looked at Lucifer. Lucifer rubbed the bridge of his nose taking in a deep breath. “Let’s hope whatever Mammon does isn’t stupid.” Lucifer groaned as Diavolo opened the door to his office. “You think Mammon is dumb?” He already knew this was a Rhetorical question but, he was curious. Especially how all of his brothers treated mammon. “No” Lucifer was quickly to reply. “He’s actually very smart. He impresses me every day, if I’m ever gone then I have him to trust. He knows everyone like the back of his hand and I can tell that he loves them all so much. But sometimes I don’t even know, that he knows that. I’m proud I him Diavolo I really am but everyone changed when we fell. But with mammon, he never changed on the outside at least.” Lucifer looked at his hands as he spoke, trialing the stitches on his gloves with his thumb. “You really care about him Dont you?” Diavolo smiled as he sat at his desk sitting back. Though Lucifer didn’t respond. Of course Lucifer did but it was hard for him to answer. “He’s..something, I love him more then anyone else.” He was quick to reply as the room got heavy between them. “I wonder how Michael is doing” Lucifer muttered under his breath. The room was quiet as a slight knock was heard on the door as Barbatos opened the door. “Lord, I have some news”

Michael stood in front of Mammon who’s head stayed low. “So, what do you say” Michael smirked as Mammon shifted in his seat. “So, I get to have Lilith back..” Michael nodded slowly “of course mammon, why wouldn’t you want this. Isn’t Lilith the whole reason you fell? Now you can make it up.” The grin on his face grew wider getting onto his knees making eye contact with him. “What’s the strings attached to this” Mammon demanded as Michael moved back awfully shocked. “Mammon! Why would you ever accuse me of such a thing!?” Michael got up the grin he once has was gone. “Aren’t you smart.” Michael gritted his teeth. “Do you not trust me anymore mammon! What have I done to hurt you! Am I such a bad angel to you!?” Michael raised his voice as Mammon sunk into his sink. “What is it then Mammon!” He stood their as the room was quiet. Mammon softly sputtered out a soft sorry tears forming in his eyes. Michael shook his head as he hugged mammon. “No, I’m sorry for getting mad, You have changed a lot, you were my little mammon” Michael softly spoke into his ear. Mammon wrapped his arms around him as the warm tears ran down his face as he sobbed into him. “Hush mammon, a good angel doesn’t cry” Michael cooed. “I’ll give you the rest of the day to think about this. Alright?” Michael ran his fingers through the Demons hair calming him down. “My poor angel” Michael got up as he helped mammon onto his feet as he wrapped his arm around his waist walking him out of the room and down the Marble flooring and white walls with the setting sun glossing down onto the marble through the golden curtains that gently danced in the wind as the wind blew in warm air. The sounds of their steps filled the empty hall. “Don’t you Remember this? Every night after my work I saw you from down the hall running to me, oh how I miss those days.” Michael smiled staring into the memories. “Don’t you remember?” He turned his head to Mammon the grip on his waist tightened as he pulled him close. Mammon softly nodded as he softly chuckled under his breath. “You would always have to fixed my robe..” They both softly laughed as they shared memories between them. They soon approached a smooth wooden door like any other with a golden marks and knob. Michael opened the door slowly to show a somewhat empty room. A king sized bed with golden and red blankets and sheets and blankets worn hints of gold and the Wooden floors that shimmer in the sun with the same golden curtains with paintings hung up. “Why did you bring me here?” Mammon asked. “This will be your room for tonight, I’ll see you at dinner” Michael quickly left the room leaving Mammon in the room alone.

Mammon looked around the room the old memories started to flood his mind. This was his old room, of course it changed sense the fall but the room was just as heavenly as he remembered as he fell back first onto the bed starring at the ceiling counting the small stars, something that he did every night when he couldn’t sleep as he heard the crickets chirp with the moon flooding into the room. He loved those moments, and how he missed them. He closed his eyes. His mind was empty when the sudden thought came into his head as he stumbled onto his feet then onto his knees as he patted the wooden floors for the loose floor board. The floor creaked as he lifted up the false board revealing a small hole with a small box inside of it. He grabbed the multicolored box brining it up to his knees. It was still there, the box, his heart was pounding as he slid the top of the box off revealing a small picture. The picture was wrinkled and yellowed with age. How long has it been when he held the photo up to the light revealing the brothers and a woman around their age. His mind became blank once more as his thumb glided around the photo as he muttered to himself. “I already know what the strings are to this dumb deal..hah, you guys really are going to think I’m the scummy demon. I’m doin this for you though.” mammon continued to mumble to himself as his eyes became glossy with tears as he quickly wiped them away softly laughing. “I would do this all over again, I love you all” Mammon smiled as he put the picture away into the box then back into the hole. Covering it with the false board. He stayed on his knees then slowly got up back to his bed falling face first into the pillows. It was warm, his whole body was warm. His mind was clear as he focused on his light breathing. When was it the last time he felt like this? His body grew heavy on the bed as it sunk in. He heard footsteps leading up to his door then a small knock which made mammon shoot his head up as the door open to reveal the angel he saw earlier. “Oh, it’s you” Mammon looked at her as she didn’t say anything but gave a small smile. Mammon got the hint as he got up as she lead him to the grand dining room.

The dining room had a long beautiful table in the middle as it was filled with food and empty chairs. Exquisite wines and juices and all sorts of Celestial food and golden plates. He looked up and down the chairs to see Michael in the very end as the angel lead him to the other end of the table. Mammon sat down as the angel quickly left leaving the two of them their. “So Mammon, have you thought about it?” He gently grabbed the food from the plates bringing them to his own as mammon stayed still. “Yeah, I have actually” Mammon gripped onto his clothes as he took a deep breath. Michael looked at him “Well what is it then” He demanded. Mammon opened his mouth, then slowly closing it gritting his teeth. “I’ll do it, for Lilith.” He spoke loudly as Michael stopped. Then getting up slamming his silverware on table. Mammon jumped as he sank into his chair. Why was he mad!? His mind raced as he was greeted with the guards grabbing his arms dragging him out the chair. “Huh!? The hell you guys think your doin huh!?” Mammon struggled in their arms as they pushed him onto his knees as he shouted and squirmed. Michael came over to him as he looked down at him, his eyes glowed as he looked at him. “I’m glad you made this decision.” He smiled as he got a small glass filled with a clear liquid. “Do you know what this is mammon?” Michael teased as he grabbed his chin using his thumb to pull his lip down as Mammon opened his mouth. Mammon didn’t answer as they both knew the answer to what the liquid was. It didn’t have a name but it was made by god himself, lets say it was able to change the worst demons to the most obedient angels. Holy water you can say. Michael pored the liquid down his throat as Mammon gagged taking all of it the guards keeping his face in place until every last drop was out the bottle. The guards let go of his head as mammon hung his head low quite panting loudly. Michael sat down as he ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s going to hurt but you’re my brave angel Mammon. After this we can go get Lilith.” Mammon tried to keep the liquid down in his stomach as he gagged and panted as his body became weak drool running down his face as his heart pounding. Michael reassured him as he felt his stomach turn before puking thick black substances. His body shook as he continued to cough up more his arms trembling. Once he was done his body collapsed as it was caught by Michael. He Laid him on his lap as he gently hushed him.

Diavolo got up from his desk as he walked over to Barbatos who waited for him at the door. “Excuse me Lucifer I will be back shortly” As he left as Barbatos followed behind closing the door slowly. “What is this about, what have you found out” Diavolo almost demanded as Barbatos held his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry m’lord but I couldn’t help myself but Go to the future.” He apologized as Diavolo walked down the hall as he sighed. “I was going to ask you after the meeting with Lucifer, with Michael in charge of the celestial realm it has also got me concerned. So what did you find out” Barbatos stoped walking as he sighed. “I can’t expose much for it was..blurry. All i can remember is that it has to do with Lilith.” Diavolo looked back at him as his voice lowered. “Lilith? Isn’t she dead?” Barbatos nodded as he looked at the black tile. “Have you forgotten? Angels are gods children. Michael is almost as strong as he is, he’s a archangel after all.” Diavolo stormed over to Barbatos as he stood over him. “What are you trying to say” He yelled as Barbatos could only keep the same face. “Archangels can revive any human, especially a angel.” He spoke softly as he watched the Prince storm down the hall. “So he used Lilith as a scapegoat for Mammon. Why.” His mind raced as Barbatos followed along. “Probably because he is still a archangel. If Michael never left mammon then their was no doubt that Mammon would be the strongest in the heavens. Why he wants him? I have no idea sir” Barbatos admits as they got to the office door. “What are you going to say to Lucifer?” Barbatos grabs the door knob as Diavolo took a deep breath. “I’ll tell him everything, it’s his brother and sister after all.” Barbatos nodded to his response as he opened the door for the prince as he walked in going back to his desk that sat Lucifer immediately getting up from his desk. “Lucifer, I need you to sit down” Lucifer sat at his desk as Diavolo sat down as well. “So what is it.” Lucifer spoke up. Diavolo told him about the situation as slowly and clearly as possible but nothing could make him feel better them then frozen Lucifer in his seat.

“Michael” That’s all could Lucifer say. His eyes were glossy as his whole pride was shattered into bits, All Diavolo saw was a single tear run down his cheek. “He’s using Mammon for what..?” Lucifer spoke softly as Diavolo heart ached. “I don’t know exactly” he spoke calmly his voice quiet and softly. “And Lilith..” Lucifer mumbled as. He stood up as he banged his fist on the desk. “Fuck!” Lucifer yelled as he snarled. “Why can’t you do anything about this! Huh Diavolo! Your demon prince why didn’t do anything if you know everything! Explain that to me Diavolo!” Lucifer yelled as Diavolo was astounded that he talked back to him like this. But he had every right to. “Lucifer I can’t do anything. I only know because I’m the prince. I have to know something about the rulers.” Diavolo got up slowly as he was going to place his hand on Lucifer shoulder he slapped his hand away. “Lets not forget Diavolo. He is my brother I’m nit letting shit happen to him.” Diavolo moved his hand back as he was rushed to reply. “You can’t do anything now Lucifer” Lucifer stayed still. His breathing hitched as if someone punched him in the stomach. “What” was all Lucifer could say.

………………………..Tag list………………………

@mackerelchuuya

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[extasiswings]

scream you dont need to reply to this but i cant message bc we aren't mutuals but i just wanted to say thank you for your hot takes abt the *** article-- i didnt read it bc i know it would just piss me off more BUT seeing the ripples through the fandom (right before a new episode we are excited for nonetheless) had me back in to see what people were saying and yeah, it's just nice to come here and see you calling it like it is :)

You’re welcome! I’m just—*sigh*

The thing is, I knew this was going to be a shitshow. That’s why I preemptively started making posts about it days ago as soon as we heard an article would be forthcoming. And I was prepared to roll my eyes and be frustrated and annoyed at the inevitable pessimistic doomsday despairing. What I wasn’t anticipating was the level of upset from my fellow queer folks, not about the implication (because we’re all still Buddie canon truthers) but because of the rhetoric. And I get it, I do, because it’s incredibly hurtful to have your lived experiences dismissed out of hand, to have someone reiterate the same sort of thing that many of us have had people say or assume about our own identities and relationships and feelings—that our experiences are invalid, that we’re confused, that we don’t actually know what we want or what we’re seeing—the sort of will-they-won’t-they “it’s all just platonic and you’re reading into it” lines that get bandied about so readily for non-canon het couples come with a certain amount of baggage when placed in the context of non-canon queer couples. Because it inadvertently steps into a very particular strain of queer pain. And straight people just…do not get that. The fact that it isn’t intentional doesn’t make it hurt less, but they don’t, and I do think it’s worth acknowledging that. And I also think it’s worth acknowledging that as much as we as fans don’t have a blueprint for this situation (a slow burn non-canon queer ship going canon), neither do the showrunners.

That said, I also do think it is incredibly important for everyone to be aware of the myriad issues involved in this piece. It was written by someone who has a very well-known agenda of trying to claim the show is terrible about queer rep (blatantly false) and queerbaiting (also not true) and is extremely aggressive, combative, and unprofessional in interviews while trying to make that point. We don’t know the questions he asked, or how many questions he asked, or how he went about asking them. We don’t know if the quotes that were published were part of a longer response, and we don’t even know if they were the first response—it is entirely possible that initial answers were more polite/vague/cagey and he pushed and pushed and pushed until he got a soundbite that he could use to paint them in the worst light possible (and when someone is baiting you by asking the same thing over and over and you can’t get specific, yeah, you’re going to get frustrated and say things you don’t mean—and maybe we don’t know for a fact that’s what happened here, but based on prior experience, particularly re the tone and questions of the post-finale interview where he explicitly accused Tim of queerbaiting, it seems likely). So basically…all that to say, I think everyone’s feelings are valid, but I also think it’s worth directing the anger and hurt to the right places—to the person who manipulated the situation specifically for this result for clout and to serve a personal agenda. That’s my two cents.

(Also, as a reminder, this wasn’t the piece they signed up for either—it was just supposed to be a standard PR piece for 5x11 and he asked extra questions because there was time. It wasn’t the focus of the interview and wasn’t necessarily something they were prepared to discuss)

[jschllatt]

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 | 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭

Prompt: HIIIIIII i hope you are doing well !!!! i love your writing sm and would like to make a request !!!! i would love something in which schlatt n reader are both streamers/youtubers and have been friends for a while but they both like eachother and dont wanna ruin it ? and one of them finally makes a “first move” after like yearsss of being friends ?! sorry it’s not super specific but :( it can be any length of your choosing, whatever you feel up to writing !!! thank you and u are da best !!!!!

Warnings: Swears

Words: 1229

Not too sure if I like this one so feedback is much appreciated :)

You had a big problem. 

It was the type of problem that nagged at your brain all day, reminding you of your predicament even when you tried to ignore it. It dominated your focus, making it difficult to even think properly no matter what you did. What exactly was your problem? The answer was rather simple: you had fallen for your best friend, Schlatt. After years of friendship, you found it difficult to keep your feelings strictly platonic—Schlatt was simply too charismatic, too funny, too attractive. It seemed as though your feelings had hit you like a truck, and they only deepened as time progressed. You debated confronting your feelings head on by confessing your love to Schlatt, though you feared its outcome. He definitely didn’t like you back—not in that way. You two had been friends for years and you were going to ruin it just because you had caught feelings for him? No way. 

And so, you avoided your problem until it got out of hand. 

It was around two a.m. when you started streaming, your bright room a stark contrast to the darkness outside. You hadn’t streamed in a few days and decided that there was no better time to do so—you weren’t even close to being tired and you figured a majority of your streamer friends were still online, anyways. 

“Oh, Schlatt’s awake.” You observed quietly once you opened discord, noticing the green dot displayed next to his icon. You tried to hide your excitement as you messaged your best friend, a small smile on your face as you typed, hi schlatt <3. Seconds later, a ping signalled his reply, to which you laughed at as it read, fuck off. That was expected. You were just about to respond before your phone began to ring. Looking down, you saw Schlatt’s contact lighting up your screen. Feigning annoyance, you asked your chat rhetorically, “Oh God, what does he want?”

Answering the call, you tried to keep your expression neutral as you were met with Schlatt’s stoic expression. He remained silent for a few seconds and you interrupted the quietness by saying, “Hello?” He continued to ignore you, staring at the screen blankly, and you were just about to speak again before he yelled, “Go to sleep.” 

“Only if you come here and make me.” You replied somewhat flirtatiously, instantly regretting it—you feared what your chat would look like when you dared to glance at it. “Okay.” Schlatt chirped, then hung up. Chuckling softly, you rolled your eyes, muttering to your chat about how annoying he was. You couldn’t help but smile, however, once you realized that was Schlatt’s way of showing he cared—it wasn’t the most straightforward way of doing so, but you recognized his intentions nevertheless. You tried to conceal your adoration by changing the subject, talking to your chat about random things. A lot of your viewers had chastised you for being up so late, but you assured them that it was common for those who streamed for a living to rely on two hours of sleep. Time passed, and your chat began to flood with surprised exclamations, all regarding Schlatt—had he joined your stream? Your question was answered just moments later. 

On my way.

“Real funny, Schlatt.” You deadpanned, rolling your eyes at the dono displayed across your monitor.

It was quiet once again. Your chat had eventually become interested, for the most part, in your new content rather than Schlatt’s presence, which you were grateful for—you couldn’t bear to think about the man any longer without letting your mind wander. Did he really care about you or was he just trying to be funny? Even though the two of you had been best friends for years, he was quite difficult to read. It wasn’t often that he was serious with you. Sure, the two of you had your fair share of deep conversations, but Schlatt had always found a way to be sarcastic or humorous in most situations. 

Sighing, you tried to focus on your stream. Minutes passed, and your viewers could tell that you were off. They interpreted it as you being tired, to which you used as an excuse to end stream. “I’m sorry, guys, I am tired. I guess Schlatt was right.” You chuckled halfheartedly, hoping your viewers couldn’t sense your disappointment as you mentioned your best friend’s name. Luckily, they didn’t, and you were quick to end your stream with a dejected sigh. Snap out of it, he’s your best friend—nothing more. You found it hard to listen to your thoughts, and plopped down unceremoniously onto your bed, frowning. Why did you have to catch feelings for him? You shut your eyes and tried to push your thoughts away, focusing on the sound of gentle breeze that swept through your window. The night was rather warm and its gentleness offered you solace. However, after a few minutes of peace, your tranquility was interrupted by a knock at the door. You felt panic arise in your chest, startled by the sudden noise. It was nearly three in the morning, who in the world could have possibly been at your house?

Schlatt. 

As you looked through the peephole in your door, you observed your best friend standing on your front steps, his expression one of amusement.

Shit. He was really here? He wasn’t joking?

Ignoring the onslaught of anxious thoughts that flooded your mind, you swung the front door open. “What are you doing here?” You asked quietly, confused as you met his eyes. He smirked at you proudly before chuckling, “I told you to go to sleep, you said to come here and make you. Here I am.” You looked at your best friend incredulously, shocked that he took your words so seriously. “I-I was kidding, I didn’t think you’d-”

“Yeah, yeah, well it’s too late now.” Dumbfounded, you stared at Schlatt in response, gesturing for him to come in once you gained your composure. Schlatt towered over you once he entered your house, a smug look on his face as he observed your shocked self. “What? Surprised I can actually keep a promise?” You huffed in response, crossing your arms as you raised an eyebrow at him, “Yes.” Schlatt snickered and plopped down onto the couch, looking around your living room. “Nice place you got here.”

“You’ve been here before, idiot.” You countered, sitting down beside him with pursed lips. The rapid beat of your heart was not helping your case as you tried to remain calm, sitting so close to Schlatt that your knees were touching. The two of you sat in an awkward silence and you glanced over at your best friend curiously. Instantly, he met your gaze, staring at you with a ghost of a smile. Your eyes flickered down to look at his lips briefly, and you noticed Schlatt do the same, taking in your appearance with adoring eyes. Soon enough, you both had leaned in until your faces were inches away, practically sharing the same breath as you continued to stare at each other shamelessly. You were about to close the gap between the two of you before Schlatt mumbled smugly, “Go to sleep.” 

Leaning impossibly closer toward his lips, you grabbed a hold of his sweatshirt, tugging his body into yours as you countered, “Just shut up and kiss me, idiot.”

~

Tags: @ialexabsuniverse @esylwen @quack42069 @mayberii @dreamiewrites @moonamor @kalliblast @forbidden-sin-bin

[darlingpetao3]

House of W (Multiple!Wells x Reader, Chapter 9)

Rating: T

Summary: After having to deal with the deaths of an infinite number of Harrison Wells in the Multiverse, you, a magic-wielding meta, have a breakdown and unwittingly create a happy, fictitious sitcom life with some of your favourite men. In a world of comedy and cameos, can Team Flash and an out-of-town magician break through your powers to save you? And what if you don’t want to be saved...?

A/N: Well folks, it’s the final chapter... I’m not sure it’s actually all that great, but here it is and I hope it’s well received, nonetheless! Thanks for coming on this crazy ride with me <3

Tag List: @fandomdancer​ @bluesclues-1234​ @crissymadlock @firstofficer-tilly​ @disneyoncerlover815​ @marvel-lady10 @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @noctvrnalmoth​ @alexxlynn @dontbedumb3​ @heyl0lwhatsup @ryou-cosmos​ @arianalilyblack​ @sonnensplitter​ @imagine-yourself-happy​ @stuckysdaughter​ @wintersire @i-dont-care-lol​ @booksandfandomsarelife1 @marvelhastakenovermybeing​ @marisughh​

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 8

Eobard Thawne clutches his fist down beside him, surely feeling the surge of Speed Force energy running through his entire body once more. He looks like he’s just taken a hit of the most addictive drug—eyes flashing a dangerous crimson, his whole being vibrating at the speed of sound before everyone’s eyes.

The Reverse Flash turns to Libby and Belle—who both remain frozen in place out of sheer shock after realizing that this man isn’t who he claimed to be—and gives them one of his iconic shit-eating grins.

“Thank you, girls,” he says smugly. “I couldn’t have achieved any of this without you. The next time I have your real uncle under my boot, I’ll think of you wonderful girls.”

“What have we done…?” Belle whispers rhetorically to her sister. A speechless Liberty only shakes her head in reply.

Eobard locks eyes with Barry, who stands in the doorway to the kitchen. The villain smirks before he bolts off, running upward along the diminishing forcefield wall and out through one the holes forming in it. Barry watches on as he decides to let his adversary go. He’s learned by now it’s never the last time he’ll see Eobard Thawne. That bastard always seems to find a way back into everyone’s lives. He’s like a cockroach that won’t stay dead.

Yes… Barry will come face to face with the Reverse Flash again. He may not know when, but when he does, he’ll be ready.

Because right now, you need him.

Your world is falling apart.

Again.

The forcefield continues to fall slowly from above. Your time is limited. You know that in mere minutes, everything will disappear, including the people you love. 

“Mom, we’re so, so sorry,” Belle tells you desperately. “We thought he was just teaching us how to perfect our powers. It felt like a game!”

“My dear, sweet girls,” you look them straight in the eyes as you explain to them, “I assure you both, it’s not your fault. Okay? You had no idea who he really was or what he was capable of. It’s not your fault, do you understand me?” They nod through their tears. “You two may have grown up incredibly fast, far too fast for my liking, in fact, but I am so thrilled that you were- are mine. You will always be my little girls. No matter what.”

“Thank you for being our mom,” Liberty says to you in all seriousness.

“No one is cooler or stronger than you,” Belle adds with a smile very reminiscent of her fathers’. If these two aren’t careful, you’re going to completely lose it in front of them.

Off in the distance, you spot Barry watching this heartfelt scene play out. You wave him over to meet his nieces, so he can see what you’ve created for yourself up close and personal. Libby and Belle should meet their real uncle, a true hero, before they’re…

Barry places a hand each on the girls’ shoulders. See, Barry? They’re real. And I’ll lose them too. Do you feel my pain now? This is what I live through all the time.

Barry’s eyes begin to glisten until the tiny bulbs of tears hold still, unwilling to fall just yet.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you both,” he tells them. “You’re both such bright stars.” They give bittersweet smiles up at him in silence. You don’t think they fully understand what will come to pass in mere minutes, but you do. You can feel it in your bones.

Barry steps back from your family unit so that you all can have one more last moment together. You take this final opportunity to bring your girls in close for a tight hug, letting a sob escape you despite trying to keep it together for your family. You wave a hand over to your husbands as if to gesture for them to get in on this family group hug, and quickly. They do so promptly, all four of them enveloping you, Liberty, and Belle as if to form a loving hug shield.

“I love you,” you make sure to say these three precious words, making eye contact to each and every one of those you have magicked into being here with you today… before they disintegrate before your very eyes.

And soon enough, you can’t even feel them anymore. The forcefield has vanished within the Lab’s basement, along with the Wells and the twins.

You cry. You shake and your body wracks with the sort of sobs that hurt your throat. Barry makes sure he holds you tightly. Caitlin approaches carefully and ends up holding your hand. Then it’s Cisco who puts his own hand on your shoulder as everyone else in the room looks on at your despair.

***

After some much-needed rest in the Medbay, you awake to a spookily quiet Labs. You’re not sure of the time (or day, even), but regardless, you figure it’s best to head home. Goodness knows it’s probably still in shambles. That’ll need to be fixed.

You heave a sigh as you leave the Cortex.

“Come on, you can sigh louder than that.”

You turn around to find the unexpected voice belonging to Zatanna. You imagine she must have had to recoup as well from the amount of magic she would have used to break through to your world.

“Oh, hey,” you say tiredly. “I take it you’re on your way, then?”

“Yeah, I have a show in Coast City in two days, so I better head off.”

“Listen, I’m really sorry to have brought you into all this madness.”

“No, please. If anything, I should thank you as well as offer my condolences... Your magic is something I've never seen before. Honestly, I’m still intrigued by it.” Zatanna hesitates. “Would it be weird if I gave you my contact information? I don’t come across many others with true magic. I’d love to keep in touch. Maybe we could learn from each other?”

“Yes, of course,” you agree. “I think that’s a great idea.” She hands you her card—a glittery black business card with her name and number.

“So, hey,” she says, “You going to be okay?”

You take a few seconds to think her question over.

“I think, in time, I could be,” you answer truthfully.

“I know it may not be much,” Zatanna says, “but one of my powers involves granting wishes. Before I go, is there anything I can do for you? You’ve been through so much. I’ve seen it. And everybody has something they're hoping for. Something they wish they could change…” She pauses, waiting for your answer, but also seems distracted. You wonder what kind of life this woman has led. What has she done in her past that she regrets or wishes for from the bottom of her heart?

“I only wish for Harrison Wells to be in my life,” you answer honestly. Is that so much to ask for? It seems to be that way.

“Is that what your heart most desires?”

You sigh. “More than anything.”

There’s another pause.

“You know, sometimes you’ll find that our wishes come true on their own, even without magic,” the magician points out ominously.

“That’s code for “I just can’t make that wish come true,” isn’t it?” you joke, somewhat.

“The people that we love—they’re only gone when we stop carrying them with us. How you choose to carry Harrison Wells is up to you.”

You let that sink in and press a hand to your heart. He will always be here with you. Right here. You’ll make sure of it.

“I wish you all the luck and magic in the world, (Y/N),” Zatanna says kindly. “It was nice to meet you.”

You nod in thanks, unsure of how to respond to that. With her aged, thick book under her arm, Zatanna Zatara walks down the S.T.A.R. Labs corridor, but you swear her body vanishes before she rounds the corner…

Despite all the trouble you’ve put her through—everyone, really—with all of this, you can still take comfort in the act of making a new friend.

As you walk through the empty hallways of the Labs, you make it to where the elevator lies. You go to press the button to summon the machine when a ding sounds before your finger even touches the button. The doors slide open, and the face that greets you shocks you to your very core.

“Hello, there,” he says.

In fact, you are so stunned that you take a step back, but in doing so, you stumble and begin to topple over. Luckily, a certain someone’s quick arms catch you in time.

The face you know all too well, Harrison Wells, that is, glows with a calm happiness as he looks down at you in his arms. Behind immaculate see-through frames, his pretty blues eyes twinkle like the stars. He smiles like he knows you. You stare up in disbelief, in relief, and in love.

“Hello… Harrison.”

[amayawolfe]

The adult trio

6, 8, 17

I dont have much of an idea of a story but for #8 i think they have a little couple argument about what to eat for dinner while in a serious battle against multiple enemies.

Anyways just have fun with it i just found these lines funny idk why 😅 ℓσνє уσυя ωяιтιиg втω 💕

Requested by: kalinie-02

Prompt Sentence: (will appear in bold)

#6. “I am fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten.”

#8. “This is going to sound controversial, but I think that went well.”

#17. “Why, exactly, do you need chloroform at 2am?”

Alrighty! Request complete! Had to think of this one for a bit as fight scenes can be tricky. I ended up dulling down the violence a bit, but I hope you like what I did over all. ^_^ Thanks once again for participating in the event!

WARNING: mild violence, mild descriptions of blood and bodies, murder

~ ~ ~ 

  Illumi let out an irritated sigh and wiped sweat and blood off his face and onto his shoulder.

  What a mess. . . he thought while he surveyed the massacre before him. Corpses in a variety of morbid states were scattered across the building floors. A thick layer of blood coated the concrete floor; filling the air with the wet, heavy scent of iron. 

  The assassin glanced over at one of his partners and saw him finishing off yet another mafia goon with a swift and precise stroke of his Ben’s knife. In the opposite hand of the knife, Chrollo held open his book of nen skills. This allowed the ghostly nen fish to float around the room, aiding in the dispense of mafia goons to their appetite’s leisure.

  As if he sensed the gaze of the younger, long haired man, Chrollo straightened and met Illumi’s gaze. The nen specialist looked just as tired and done with this job as the manipulator. A loud ruckus drew the attention of both men to the opposite end of the large room.

  There, the third member of the lovers’ trio was seemingly surrounded by a group of four goons. However, the tall red haired man did not look concerned. In fact, he sported a wide, mischievous grin that would look eerily demonic to many.  

  Touching a bloody card to his full lips, the magician said something in audible to the assassin and specialist. The four ment hesitated in their advance, then took a step back. Simultaneously all four men turned and started to flee. Their attempt of escape was futile, as Hisoka only let them run just long enough to achieve a glimmer of hope before he cut them down with a nen infused card to the back of each one's head.

  “He really does enjoy toying with his prey, doesn’t he?” Chrollo questioned casually. Even though it was most likely a rhetorical question, Illumi nodded silently.

   After collecting his cards from his fallen victims, Hisoka sauntered up to his partners with a grin much like that of a very self pleased cat or fox. When he reached them, the magician stopped and surveyed the massacre littered about the warehouse.

  “Well,~” he started in his smooth, sensual tone, “This is going to sound controversial, but I think that went well.~ ♡”

Illumi wrinkled his nose at the eldest of the three, “What part of this mission went well, exactly?” The assassin was a bit of a perfectionist when it came to his job. He preferred things to be done quickly and neatly; neither of which happened this night.

  “Why, everything, of course.~ ♢” Hisoka’s eyes gleamed with excitement and his grin spread impossibly wider. “The screams, the chaos, the beautiful showers of crimson droplets. Even the fights were entertaining, despite the fact none of them were very powerful. ♢ I’m so glad to go outside the plan, otherwise it would have been so boring. ♠”

  An annoyed look now spread across Chrollo’s face, matching Illumi. He snapped his book of skills shut. Both the pair of nen fish and book instantly faded away with barely a whisper of sound.

  “I am fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten,” the spider boss stated flatly.

  Hisoka’s grin turned into a playful pout. “Oh, so cruel, Luci. ♠” He stuck out his lower lip and gave Chrollo a look of something akin to a scolded puppy.

  “Chrollo is right,” Illumi added, “had you stuck with the plan, we would have been able to grab dinner before heading home. I highly doubt there is anything remotely good open at this late hour.” 

  “Ah, I see, poor Illu is getting hangry, ♠” the magician teased. The assassin did, in fact, tend to get pretty cranky whenever he became too hungry.

  “Actually, I know a few all nighter diners that are pretty decent.” Chrollo approached Illumi and lightly rested a hand on the small of the assassin's back. He peered deep into Illu's dark eyes and gave him a warm, comforting smile. “We can clean up and get something to eat from a diner of your choice before we head home.”

  Illumi smiled ever so faintly and opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by Hisoka who was obviously wanting the attention back on himself.

  “Excellent!~ ♡” he said a little too loudly. “And when we got home, maybe we can have a little fun time before bed, hmmm?~ ♡ I don’t know about you, but all this has gotten me quite excited.~ ♢”

  Before the other two could respond, the magician gracefully spun around and headed for the exit. His heels alternated between sharp clicks and wet splats as he walked through the puddles of blood.

  The corner of one of Chrollo’s eyes twitched as he watched the madman walk away.

“Illumi, did we restock on the chloroform? Last I knew the bottle under the bathroom sink was out.” It was the tone Chrollo used that drew the assassin to look at the spider boss and raise an eyebrow. He sounded more than just a little annoyed with their red-headed partner.

  “Yes…” Illumi answered carefully, “I made sure to restock it last week. But, why, exactly, do you need chloroform at 2am?”

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I am in no mood to put up with Hisoka’s frisky antics tonight. So, I feel it would be more in our best interest if he just, oh, I dunno, ‘fell asleep’.” Chrollo met Illumi’s gaze with a small, lopsided and mischievous grin. 

  The long haired man let out a light, breathy chuckle. “Yes, I do believe we would get a better and much needed rest if that were to happen.”

[pagesofkenna]

xxxflorafaunaxxx: this is such a rich and nuanced reply to such a RUDE quesiton guriedsnjokmeflwds

actually i want to respond to this publicly (if thats ok) because like 1) I love my friend Candy everyone should know that she's one of the best human beings in the world 💚

2) I sat on that question for DAYS because I saw it on my phone but I wasn't going to try to respond on my phone, but I haven't had much laptop time during my trip so it was literally only on Sunday, when my mom volunteered me to not go to church and babysit the napping baby (who fully COULD have been woken up, but my mom also knows my tendency to skip church whenever I'm in Utah anyways lmao) that I finally got a chance to respond. the irony of answering a church question while ditching church, I'm aware. but that means there was a lot of time for me to get the question, feel put off by it, and then spend time thinking about how I wanting to answer it

and 3) I dont think... it would have been fair to me to assume the anonymous question asker was trying to be rude by asking that question (for those who didnt see the question or didn't understand it, in non-mormon tongue it was essentially 'do you think you can get into best-heaven as a trans person?')

like yes i was a bit put off getting that question, immediately a bit defensive, but bc i spent so long thinking about it, i realized idk what the intention of the asker was. are they a mormon person trying to suggest I 'shouldnt' be trans? or are they a queer person trying to suggest that my church has no place for me? or maybe this is a queer religious person who's torn, wondering for themself if there's a place for their queerness in my religious beliefs. or someone who's not queer, but who loves a queer person, and is scared that there might not be a place in heaven for them (I've fielded questions like this from my mom multiple times)

regardless of who's asking the question, all four of those above people are potentially reading my response, so I'm answering all of them. I can't say 'yes i'm good, you jerk' because that doesn't answer the sincere question for those who are worried. i can't say 'i know god loves me regardless <3' because that sounds juvenile and trite to the cynic who thinks i'm naively following christian/queer rhetoric. so, when I get questions like this, I try to answer in a way that will cover all of the bases (and, because i've fielded questions like this from my mom before, I'm well aware of people with sincere curiosity phrasing their worries in less-than-perfect ways. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt; a troll gains nothing by me giving a thoughtful answer)

also, i love to ramble, and i haven't talked to anyone who wasn't my family in 5 days

[gunnerpalace]

Hi! Same anon as the previous one. Tbh, I agree wholeheartedly with you. Y'see I do ask rhetorically,too but i could really accept and understand how and why ppl can be oblivious to IchiRuki, and somehow felt that the 'canon' should suffice, even the most excruciating of all is the fact a number found the ending even acceptable (ships aside, too). Again, I could respect that. But it's my greatest bane when ppl ask 'why' and not be clear they are asking rhetorically because I literally will

provide you an actual answer. And I get it, it’s the reason why ppl find shipping wars toxic and silly. But then again, as human, conflicts are always part of us (partly because as social psych explains so, we are gravitated to the negative for that allows us to change and survive), and the reason why “logical fallacies” are coined in the first place. Human will always debate, and argue about something; the only thing we could change is how we approach the opposing views.

Again, I dont condone any way, shape or form of abuse and harm. In some certain extent, I could perhaps understand it’s much harder for some IH to approach the actual argument being there’s either too much noise, and trapped in their own island between sea of salt. Thus becoming too acquianted w/ few IH who shared the same thought until it became their views as the only truth (see, that’s why its important to have debates! it is what keep us grounded and fair! Just like you said)

Who am I to speak though? I never ever challenged anyone anyways. And as you said, you just have to understand things in every way you could possibly think of–endless ‘whys’. Which is where I agree in your reply the most–this silly fandom wars is just the black mirror to every truth that lies beneath human psyche–the dark and the grimy. Heck, being a psych major is like staring at dark hole–at times, good, but most just plain confusing, revolting even or just heartbreaking.

Sorry it’s been long, but for the final of this ask: let me tell how glad I was with IchiRuki fandom I found in tumblr. It was the saltiest I’ve ever been (im not generally a fandom person anyways) but it’s the himalayan salt–expensive and actually nutritive it really deepened my desire to become wiser in general. And you for your wonderful essays, critiques and whatnot. I definitively would love to talk with you more not only about IchiRuki but the wonders and nightmare that us humans! Kudos!

I have sitting in my drafts a post spelling out my thoughts on “canon” (and thus, the people who cling to it) in that as a concept it privileges:

officiality over quality when it comes to validity (thus violating Sturgeon’s law)

corporations (intellectual property rights holders) over fans, and thus capitalists over proletarians

hierarchical dominance over mutualist networking within fandom

curative fandom over transformative fandom

genre over literary content

plot over characters

events over emotions

It is notable that (1) generally degrades art as a whole, (2) generally advances the capitalist agenda, and (3–7) generally advances the dominance of men over women (as the genders tend to be instructed by society to view these as A. dichotomies rather than spectrums, and B. to ascribe gender to them and make them polarities). These form the sides of a mutually reinforcing power structure (in the typical “Iron Triangle” fashion) designed to preserve and maintain the status quo.

Who really benefits from say, the policing of what is or is not “canon” in Star Wars? Disney, first and foremost. And then whomever (almost certainly male) decides to dedicate their time to memorizing the minutiae of whatever that corporation has decided is “legitimate.”

One can imagine a universe in which fan fic is recognized by companies for what it is: free advertising. (Much like fan art already is.) Instead, it is specifically targeted by demonetization efforts in a way that fan art isn’t. Why? Because it demonstrates that corporate control and “official” sanction has no bearing on quality, and it is thus viewed as undermining the official products.

In the same way, by demonstrating that most “canonical” works are frankly shit, it undermines the investiture of fans in focusing on details that are ultimately errata (the events, the plot, the genre), which is the core function of curative fandom and the reason for its hierarchical structure. The people who “know the most” are at the top, but what they “know” is basically useless garbage. And those people so-engaged are, of course, usually male.

To “destroy” the basis of their credibility, and indeed the very purpose of their community, is naturally viewed by them as an attack.

(This is not to say that efforts to tear down internal consistency within established cultural properties are good unto themselves, or even desirable. For example, efforts to redefine properties such as Star Wars, Star Trek, Doctor Who, and Ghostbusters, for the sake of a identity-politics agenda have largely A. failed as art, B. failed as entertainment, C. failed to attract the supposedly intended audience, and D. failed to advance the agenda in question. Trying to repurpose extant media in the name of culture wars is essentially always doomed to failure unless it is done deftly and gradually.)

(At the same time, this also shows what I was talking about last time, with regard to people seeing whatever they want to see. You will see people complain that Star Trek and Doctor Who didn’t “used to be so political,” which is obviously nonsense. These shows were always political. What changed was how their politics were presented. For example, Star Trek has, since TNG, always shown a nominally socialist or outright communist future, but was beloved by plenty of conservatives because they could [somehow] ignore that aspect of it.)

Of course, almost no one is seriously suggesting that one side of the spectrums outlined above be destroyed, rather merely that a new balance be struck upon the spectrum. But, as we have seen time and again in society, any threat to the status quo, whether that be 20% of Hugo Awards going to non-white male authors or the top income tax rate in America being increased by a measly 5.3% (from 28.7% to 34%… when the all-time high was 94% and for over 50 years it was above 50%) is a threat. This is why, for example, Republicans are out there branding AOC as a “socialist” when her policies are really no different at all from a 1960 Democrat who believed in FDR’s New Deal. (Which they, of course, have also demonized as “socialism.”)

(As an aside, all this ignores the fact that most of the “literary canon” of Western civilization, or at least English literature… is Biblical or historical fan fic.)

And this is when I finally get to my point.

Those people out there who denigrate and mock shippers and shipping, the people who hurl “it reads like fan fiction” as an insult, and so on, are the people who benefit from and enjoy the extant power structure. You will see the same thing with self-identified “gamers” complaining about “fake girl gamers.” Admitting that the hobby has a lot of women in it, and a lot of “casuals,” and is indeed increasingly dominated by “non-traditional demographics” is an affront to the constructed identity of being a “gamer.” They are “losing control.” And they don’t like it.

This exact same sort of population is what the “fanbase” of Bleach has been largely reduced down to through a slow boiling off of any actual quality. Of course they’re dismissive of people who are looking for anything of substance: their identity, their “personal relationship” with the franchise, is founded on a superficial appreciation of it: things happening, flashy attacks, eye-catching character designs, fights, etc.

(What this really boils down to, at heart, is that society at large has generally told men that emotions are bad, romance and relationships of all kinds are gross, and that thinking and reflecting on things is stupid. So of course they not only don’t care about such things, but actively sneer at them as “girly” or “feminine,” which is again defined by society at large as strictly inferior. And this gender divide and misogyny is of course promulgated and reinforced by the powers that be, the capitalists, to facilitate class divisions just like say racism generally is.)

(The latest trick of these corporate overlords has been the weaponization of “woke” culture to continue to play the people off one another all the time. “If you don’t like this [poorly written, dimensionless Mary Sue] Strong Female Character, then you are a racist misogynist!” They are always only ever playing both sides for profit, not advancing an actual ideological position. It is worth noting that there was a push by IH some years ago to define IR as “anti-feminist” for critiquing Orihime for essentially the exact same reasons [admittedly, not for profit, but still as critical cover].)

Which makes it very curious, therefore, that the most ardent IH supporters tend to be women. (Though there are more than a few men, they seem to tend to support it because it is “canon” and to attack it is to attack “canon” and thus trigger all of the above, rather than out of any real investment.) I think there are a number of reasons for this (which I have detailed before) and at any rate it is not particularly surprising; 53% of white women voted for Trump, after all.

What we are really seeing in fandom, are again the exact same dynamics that we see at larger and larger scales, for the exact same reasons. The stakes are smaller, but the perception of the power struggle is exactly the same.

Of course, the people who are involved in these things rarely think to interrogate themselves as to the true dimensions and root causes of their motivations. People rarely do that in general.

Putting all that aside, I’m glad that you have found a place you enjoy and feel comfortable, and thank you for the kind words, although I am not of the opinion that there is anything poignant about the non-fiction I write. It is, as I keep trying to emphasize, all there to be seen. One just has to open their eyes. So, it’s hard for me to accept appreciation of it.

Anyway, don’t feel shy about coming off of anon rather than continuing to send asks. We don’t really bite.

[editorandchief]

This Just End |Sweet Pea

Summary: Reader is a popular social media star (YouTube, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat whatever you want) and is reporting on the injustice of the raid at southside high.

Sweet Pea x Female!Reader

Warning: None

“Hello my loyal and lovely fanbase this is Y/N Y/L/N reporting from riverdale once again.” You greeted your fans. “Where here at Riverdale High it is just a normal day.” You say walking down the hallway.

“While just moments ago on the southside the police lead by Riverdale’s own mayor was raided and many students wrongfully arrested.” You expose walking into the student lounge. “Now it’s no secret that the government in Riverdale has been corrupt for years but some say that the deception has reached an all-time high with the arrival of the Lodge family.”

”umm excuse me?” Veronica's voice sounds from behind you.

”ah, Veronica Lodge.” you smiled turning the camera. ”Do you feel any remorse for the student at Southside high that were arrested today?” you asked.

”Absolutely not, the Lodge family strongly believe that committing a crime deserves to be punished. And drugs are a serious offence.” she smiles at the camera.

”Yeah, that why Mr. Lodge is pushing for a prison on the southside. Archie added.

”that's interesting.” you said reaching for your tablet and pulling up a video. ”because this video would suggest your stance on drug use is completely different from your previous statement.”

‘Calm down Nicky, I’m just getting going.’ Veronica’s voice plays.

“Which show you and many of the people in this very room consuming the highly addictive and illegal drug know as jingle jangle.” You exposed.

Around the room you could see the shocked faces of those in the room.

“Where did you get that?” Archie asked reaching for the tablet causing you to pull away.

“An anonymous source.” you replied tucking the tablet back into your bag. ”but fear not you'll be able to see the whole thing when I post it later.

”what you have nothing better to do with your life than this?” Kevin asked.

”I would watch it, Keller this video has also been sent to the District Attorney's office. Bringing into question why an unlawful raid was performed at Southside high when the children of Riverdale, who were actually caught doing the drugs, have nothing but community service.” you inform.

”also Reggie Mantle who admitted to, and I quote, ’hooking it up.’ with said drugs.” you continue. ”only Betty Cooper had the common sense not to partake in the devil's sugar.”

Turning the camera back to yourself.

”so there you have it riverdale a town with a system so corrupt even the major and sheriff would arrest innocent teens to protect their own children, while it appears nothing is being done about the serial killer on the loose.” you said. ”this has been Y/N Y/L/N wondering when are things going to change? Until next time keep it Sweet like the water.”

Turning off the camera you turn back to Kevin

”Nothing personal but something had to be done.” you said.

”something like my dad losing his job?” he asked.

”if your dad was doing his job, you and your friends would be in jail.” you replied. ”not a group of serpents that did nothing wrong.”

”that's not our fault.” Archie argued.

”oh it never is, is it? Nothing is ever your fault when you shift the blame to others. I'd watch out Archie your Lodge is showing.” you shot.

”No one conspired to do anything.” Josie said.

”really so your parents didn't have a secret meeting to discuss the event of the part organized to entertain the son of a deathly inverter for the Lodge prison?” you asked. ”If it were anyone else an appropriate punishment would have been issued.”

”why do you even care?” Reggie asked.

”Well unlike you people I'm sick of the corruption and injustice in this town, and I'm gonna do something about it.” you answered. ”its just a shame that instead of being a solution some of the most powerful families in this town is apart of the problem. Now if you'll excuse me I have somewhere to be.”

“Maybe you should be more careful, Y/N that speak is sounding very Black Hood to me.” Veronica added.

“Oh silly Ms.Lodge know that if i were the Black Hood it would be you that would want to be careful.” You smirked. Taking your leave.

🐍

“What is it today Ms.Y/L/N?” The sheriff asked as you walked into the station. “Did you see the Black Hood J walking?” He joked.

“Very close but no,” you said with a fake smile. “But funny you would mention the Letter ‘J’” you said pulling out your phone and showing a snippet from the video you had shown previously at school.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but is this it is this not you sons Mr. Kevin Keller consuming Jingle Jangle?” You asked the rhetorical question. “Yet I dont recall him being dragged out of school like many students on the southside this morning, care to explain?” You asked pulling a tape recorder out of you bag and holding it to his face.

“What do you want?” He asked getting straight to the point.

“ release the Serpents. Now.” You said smile being wide off you face as there was no longer any need for false plesentries.

🐍

“Wow, Sweet Pea when you said Y/N had it handled I didn’t think it would accually pan out.” Toni said walking out if the sheriffs station with the rest of the serpent.

“Well that’ll teach you never underestimate my girl, she can be scarier that any serial killer out there.” He bragged slinging his at around your shoulder. “That’s why I always say if you only have one phone call, call Y/N.”

“Noted.” Fangs said falling into two beside you and sweet pea.

“Oh you haven’t seen ow scary I can be, but you will.” You said. “After what they did to you guys I’m bout to rain down a hell storm like non Riverdale has ever seen. Now lets head to pops I’m sure you guys must be starving.” You offer.

“Wow, She’s a mind reader to lets go.” Toni said quickening her steps.

You say all in all today was pretty productive, now all thats left is to down some cheese fries and then destroy the upper class and governmental system of a small town. You’ve had better days but this one was okay.

[1dffexchange]

Drinks and Chances

To: Leigh @thatoddpanda

From: Kate @fireawaynjh

Warning: Alcohol. Mild Swearing

Summary: She would do anything for her best friend Laura, literally anything, and that included planning her engagement party at a theme park and the dinner that followed. Sounds harmless enough but when there is a fear of rollercoasters and a reciprocated hatred for a friend of the bride, problems tend to arise. Naturally when the two enemies are stranded alone in a theme park the only solution left to turn to is alcohol. Can they last an afternoon together and make it to the dinner? Or will they rip each other’s heads off with in the first hour?

Hour: 1

Drinks: 0

“Why is he here? I don’t remember him being on the invite list,” she snapped, her arms folding over her chest as none other than Niall Horan walked up to the park entrance. He downed the last of his coffee as he approached them.

“Because this is my engagement party and he’s my friend,” Laura replied. She sighed and turned away from him so she wouldn’t have to say hello.

“He better leave me alone.”

“I promise he will, I told him he had to be on his best behavior,” Laura insisted.

He had struck up conversation with some of their other friends, doing everything he could to avoid talking to her. He knew she would be here, Laura had warned him and told him it was okay if he didn’t want to join them. But Niall could tell that she wanted him to be there, and as much as he hate being around her, he couldn’t do that to Laura.

Hour: 5

Drinks: 0, except for some lemonade

She begged Laura to stay back. “Please.. I don’t want to be sitting alone with him, don’t you love me?” Her lip jutted out and trembled a little.

“Oh put the lip away,” Laura laughed shoving her friends shoulder. “I promise it won’t be long, just sit away from each other and go on your phone.” She rolled her eyes as Laura followed the rest of the group to the ride entrance.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” Niall said evenly. She nodded.

“Didn’t know you were scared of roller coasters,” she mumbled.

“Not scared,” he retorted defensively. “Just get motion sick on em.” She rolled her eyes.

“Whatever Popstar.” Niall hated it when she called him that. He’d made a stupid joke once when he was young and she never let him forget it. It was one of a dozen things that she constantly did that irked him to the point of hatred.

The pair sat silently, each on a separate end of the bench, waiting as the minutes creeped by. She compulsively checked her phone waiting for the time to pass and for their friends to return. Laura was lucky she loved her so much, she hated being around Niall any more than she had to. Waiting for them to finish the ride seemed like something out of a nightmare. She checked her phone for the 10th time, seeing a text from Laura.

Rides stuck gonna be here a while, go see the petting zoo or something, we’ll meet up later xx

She groaned as she locked her phone.

“What is it?” Niall asked, looking up from his twitter feed. Someone had spotted them at the park and he was regretting not having his security team tag along, but he didn’t want to ruin Laura’s day.

“The ride broke down. They said they’ll be stuck up there for a while.” She shook her head and dropped it into her hands. “Fucking figures. I’m mean what are the chances that the ride would break down right now?”

“Higher than you think actually.” Niall replied, answering her rhetorical question.

She shook her head with a furrowed brow. “Fuck off?” Niall shrugged and kicked a rock at his feet.

“Right well let’s go do something then.” She scoffed and looked over at him.

“Go do something? Like what? We aren’t friends I’m calling an Uber and going to the restaurant until they’re done here,” she snapped, unlocking her phone quickly.

“Look can we just be cordial for an hour while we wait for them? Laura will be heartbroken if y’leave now. I’ll even buy you a drink, I’m far more tolerable after alcohol.” His cheeks stretched into a charming grin, one she wouldn’t fall for.

“Doubtful” she mumbled to herself.

“I’m sorry what was that?” he asked patronizingly, knowing full well what she said.

“Fine. Lets go.” she stood up with a huff and he stretched with a smug grin. She rolled her eyes and stalked off to the nearest beer tent.

Hour: 5.5

Drinks: still 0, but Niall just got started

“You don’t have anything besides beer?” The bartender shook his head. “Not even wine?” she pressed. Again he shook his head.

“Wine tent is on the other side love,” Niall chimed in, sipping on his IPA as she insisted on a cocktail. “Just get her a lagunitas.” Again she huffed and sat down on the stool next to him.

“What’s your issue with beer anyway?” he asked her as he downed another sip.

“Other than the fact that it tastes like shit?” she retorted as if it should be obvious. The bartender handed her the pint and she took a sip. It was sweet but also tasted the way rising bread smells. “God this is awful.”

“Will you shut up and drink it for Christ sake?” Niall was already halfway through his. She glared at him as she took another long sip. She realized if she drank it fast and didn’t breathe the taste wasn’t so bad. After half the glass she started to feel a small buzz, relaxing a little in her chair. Niall could tell she was starting to unwind. He’d never admit it but she actually was fun to be around after a few drinks. As she finished her beer she looked at her phone.

babes i am SO sorry they’re saying its gonna be another 30 minutes just for the technician to get here to let us off

“Laura said they’re gonna be another hour before they are even able to come find us.”

“Any chance of it being sooner?” She shook her head no. Niall nodded and signaled the bartender for another round.

Hour: 7

Drinks: two each

“Laura we have dinner reservations you don’t have time for another ride!” She sat with her forearms on the counter and her shoulders slumped forward as she pressed the phone to her ear.

“But they gave us each three free ride tickets! If we dont use them now we’ll never get the chance to,” Laura whined. “You and Niall can go ahead and get our table that way we can just meet you there!”

“You’re not going to have time to change,” she countered.

“Yes I will it’ll take two seconds. You and Niall head back to my place get changed and we will see you at dinner I love you byeeeeee.” The call ended before she could protest any further.

“What was that all about?” Niall asked. The beer didn’t seem to have any affect on him like it did for her.

She sighed and set her phone face down. “They all got free ride tickets for the inconvenience so they’re going to use them. Laura want us to go back and get changed and hold our dinner reservations.” Niall nodded.

“I’ll get the Uber,” he said tossing down a twenty for the drinks and ten for the tip. She nodded and delicately stood up, testing how sober or not she really was. Niall chuckled to himself and steadied her as she got off the chair. “You good?” she nodded and he released her arm. “And to think you wanted the hard stuff.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh shut up Niall.” She dug in her bag for a stick of gum as they walked out of the tent and towards the front of the park.

“Awe look at this!” Niall said as they passed a game stand where a prize was a giant stuffed dinosaur, the same size as a toddler.

“You know those games are rigged,” she sighed. The alcohol wore off the more she moved and she was starting to resent him again.

“You’re no fun,” he muttered as he handed the game attendant a dollar and took three balls. He missed all three attempts to hit the target. She was about to quip at him when he pulled out another dollar.

“Oh my god you’re going to waste your entire fortune on this stupid dinosaur. You can buy them on Amazon.”

“I’m concentrating,” he snapped, as he missed his third shot again.

“You have zero chance of winning this thing I hope you realize that.”

Five dollars later and he still had yet to hit the target. He was down to one ball, zoning in on it like a pitcher winding up for the winning strikeout of the World Series. He was taking too damn long and she was steadily growing more impatient.

“For fucks sake,” she sighed, taking the ball from him and throwing it absentmindedly. Both of them were stunned when the lights and bells went off, indicating her perfect hit. The game attendant took down one of the huge dinosaurs and handed it to Niall.

“Did you just...” Niall asked as he took the stuffed toy and began to slowly walk with her.

“Yes, I did now let’s get you and your stupid dinosaur to the Uber.” She was back to her grumpy self and Niall was disappointed. He was starting to like hanging out with her.

Hour: 9

Drinks: 2 each.. for now

She walked up to the hostess desk. “Reservation for 10 under Whitmore at 7:15.”

“Ah yes, is your entire party here yet?” the hostess replied.

“We’re the first.”

“Okay please have seat or grab a drink at the bar. I will mark that you have checked in and once a majority of your party is here we’ll seat you.”

The two sat at the bar after thanking the hostess.

“Oh thank god real alcohol,” she sighed as she smoothed the skirt of her dress. She’d changed rather quickly and wasn’t too sure how she looked. Niall thought she looked amazing.

The bartender set down two napkins in front of them. “What are we having tonight?”

“Gin martini, dry” she said easily.

“Guinness,” Niall added, seeing his favorite on tap.

“Of all the choices you still pick beer?” she asked shaking her head.

“I’m an Irishman love, what’d’ya expect?” The bartender set down their drinks and Niall offered up his card to start the tab.

Hour; 10

Drinks: 9. 4 for her, 5 for him

“God where are they? I’m so hungry,” she pouted, looking to the door for the fifteenth time in the last 10 minutes. she munched on a few more bar nuts.

“Dunno. Probably in traffic,” Niall shrugged. He signaled the bartender as he finished the last of his beer, his third since sitting down, ordering another for himself and another martini for her. He normally never drank on an empty stomach, but being around her when she looked this beautiful was painful and he needed something to dull that pain.

She gratefully accepted the drink and took a long sip. Her eyes had glossed over after the last one and Niall could tell she was nearing intoxication. A smile stretched across her lips as she set the glass down. Niall couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why do you hate me so much?” he blurted. She was stunned by the abruptness and intensity of his question.

“You’re kidding right?” she tried to hold back a laugh but in her drunken state that proved difficult.

“No ‘m serious, I don’t know why you hate me.” Her laughter had stung but he brushed it off. She’d said far worse things to him before.

“Niall we were on a date and you spent ninety percent of the time talking to your famous buddies and bragging about all the places you went on tour. You didn’t try to get to know me at all! And then you didn’t call for a week-”

“I was busy,” he interjected.

“That’s not the point,” she replied. “You didn’t call and when you did it was to invite me to some club appearance you had to do. And so when I said no, you asked my best friend, whose heart you proceeded to break and then write a chart topping album about.”

Niall’s heart sank. He really had been a dick to her. He flashed back to that “blind” date he had asked Laura to set them up on. He’d taken her to Nobu, wanting to impress her with how successful he had been in One Direction. He was 21 and still acting like he was 16. He’d been so nervous to go out with her. He’d seen her at parties at Laura’s and he’d been immediately taken with her. He just wanted one chance with her and he knew he screwed up the minute he dropped her off and she forced a smile as she stepped out of the car. He nervously asked her out again to the club appearance because it was the only time he had in his schedule to do anything with her. Rightfully so she’d been offended, again, and said no. Laura said her friend Amy was available so he took her instead.

Amy had been great, he remembered. But she wasn’t her and that’s where their relationship fell apart. Nothing Amy ever did made him feel the way just looking atherdid. But of course she hated him and so as to not make things awkward he pretended to hate her too. After enough pretending though, he’d convinced himself he actually did hate her. Yet after a few drinks, he was right back to pining over her.

He looked over at her as she took another sip of her martini. “You’re right, I deserve it.”

She was taken aback at his response. “Can I ask why you hate me?” Her question came out more timid and vulnerable than she had intended.

Niall nodded. “I don’t actually hate you. You were just so mad at me every time we saw each other that I pretended to hate you too, didn’t want it to be weird y’know?” She nodded in response. “Do-” He trailed off. “Nevermind.”

“No what is it?” she pressed.

“It’s stupid forget it.”

“Niall, tell me.” Over the years she’d begun to forgive him for what he did. Everyone makes stupid mistake when they’re young and she’d only been 19 when they first met. She’d grown up and so had he. But she would never tell a soul. She was too proud to make the first step in forgiveness.

“I was just wondering if.. maybe I could have another chance? At you and me, I mean. I know I was a shit on our first date and that I hurt Amy… but I really like you, I always have and I’ve not had the balls to tell you.”

She swallowed nervously. Amy had gotten over Niall, and had always teased her about getting together with him cause they fight like a married couple. She finished the last of her martini and nodded.

“Okay… we can try again.”

Hour: 11

Drinks: 10 unless you count the shots

Their friends arrived shortly before the time reservation was set for and the groom insisted on a round of shots for everyone. Everyone took one and gave a round of hugs while Laura raved about how fun the rides had been.

“Oh I wish you two had come, Niall you would have loved it, the motion wasn’t even that bad.”

“Wasn’t gonna risk it love,” he chuckled as he stood. He looked over his shoulder and saw her trying to stand too, he quickly made his way over and steadied her with a hand on her lower back. She swallowed thickly at his touch, when she let go of her grudge she saw how kind he actually was. She would have let herself stumble around all night, but here he was helping her maintain a sense of soberness.

“We’re going to check on the table,” he told Laura. He guided her carefully through the waiting area, his hands never leaving her. She could feel the warmth of his palm through the fabric of her dress.

“Table for two?” the hostess asked. She blushed a little.

“No, party for Whitmore, we’re all here now.” Niall could tell she was concentrating on not slurring her words and he couldn’t contain a small chuckle.

“We’ll finish setting it right now.” She walked away with menus to go set up. Niall laughed a little more openly.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she pouted. “S’not my fault I’m a lightweight and you keep buying me drinks.” Niall couldn’t help but laugh more. The hostess returned and called for their party, leading them back to a private room where an elegant table stretched across the length of it. She and Niall sat towards the end and Niall immediately poured her some water.

“Drink this love or you’ll hate me again in the morning.”

“No I won’t I said I’d give you another chance,” she pouted.

“I was joking love.” He smiled at her as she giggled as she took the water glass carefully. She was bloody adorable when she was drunk and he knew he was getting himself into trouble by thinking that. Just because he had another chance to be her friend didn’t mean he’d get to date her. She took a few sips and then opened her menu. The busser brought some bread to the table and her eyes went wide. Niall chuckled and cut them botha piece, giving her half of his, hoping to soak up some of the gin she’d been consuming. She smiled at him gratefully and ate it quickly.

“Ugh nothing looks good,” she sighed as she scanned the menu. “It’s all fancy stuff.”

“We could skip out early and go get tacos?” he offered. She nodded wide eyed. Niall chuckled and put a hand on her leg. “Just get a salad then, we’ll make work excuses.”

Hour: 12

Drinks: she’ll tell you she’s only had two martinis but really it’s three

She apologized to Laura profusely, saying she had an early meeting and she needed to get home to sleep. Niall got up a few minutes later saying the same thing. She stood outside shivering while she waited for him.

“Do you not have a jacket?” he asked her. She shook her head and he mumbled under his breath as he slipped his off and draped it over her shoulders. She smiled up at him and stumbled slightly as the uber pulled up.

“Pretending to be sober is terrible,” she sighed as she slid into the car. “I don’t like it.”

“Well you can be as drunk as you want now love,” he smiled and helped her put on the seatbelt. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her twitter while they drove the short distance to Niall’s favorite taqueria. She squealed in excitement as the car stopped and waited patiently for Niall to help her out. They walked into the bustling restaurant and were welcomed by the sound of the live band. They sat at a small corner table, watching couples get up to dance.

“Margarita?” the waitress asked them.

“Sure I’ll take one!” Niall grinned. She turned to her.

“Do you have gin?” she asked.

“No, no gin, only tequila.”

She bit her lip. The last time she couldn’t remember the last time she had tequila, and not because of how long ago it was.

“She’ll have one too, no salt.” Niall answered. “And can we get a chicken and beef taco plate?” The waitress nodded and headed back to the small kitchen.

“Niall I can’t drink tequila. I black out everytime!”

“I’ve got you love dont worry,” he smiled. “I’ll make sure you only drink one.” she nodded and the waitress brought them each one.

“Two margaritas, no salt.” she said as she set down the glasses and walked away. Niall tapped his glass to hers.

“Cheers love.” They both took a sip and her eyes went wide.

“Fuck me that’s good.” It was sweet but not sugary..it was fresh. She knew she wouldn’t be stopping at one.

“Aren’t they? Lime juice, agave, and tequila. That’s how they do it.” Niall sipped his too. The tacos came soon after and she nearly devoured hers.

“Y’happy love?” he asked. She nodded with a full mouth. He chuckled and she ordered the another round of drinks.

Hour: 12

Drinks: too many for both of them

“Come dance with me!” she cheered. Niall shook his head with a laugh as she pulled him up. She’d been asked to dance by the owner and Niall had watched her having the absolute time of her life out of the floor. He’d never really seen, or heard of for that matter, her cut loose like this. He could tell it made her happy.

He followed her out to the floor and spun her around before taking her hand in his and her waist in his other. He didn’t know much about latin dancing but he could fake his way through it well enough. He continued to spin her and dip her, making her cry with laughter, it was the most beautiful sound. As the song ended her spun her back into his chest, wasting no time in pressing his lips to hers.

He half expected her to slap him, at the very least he she’d push him away, but never did he expect her to kiss him back. Her hands snaked up into his hair and she pressed herself against him. It was he who broke the kiss, smiling as he cupped her cheek and looked down at her. Had someone told her that morning she’d be here kissing him she’d have laughed. But his confession at the restaurant and the alcohol made her realize that her grudge was based only on the fact that she refused to let it go. Niall wasn’t a bad guy, she could see that now.

“Let’s get out of here,” he smiled. She nodded and they scurried back to the table. She called for the Uber and he quickly paid their tab. She wouldn’t keep her hands off him but he didn’t mind. He’d been thinking about this moment for years. The car pulled up out front her flat shortly after. He pecked her lips a few times before helping her out of the car. She fumbled with her keys as the reached the door, Niall’s lips on her neck making the task even more difficult. She finally pushed the door open and tossed down her things so he could lift her up and kiss her against the wall.

“My- my room is on the left,” she gasped between kisses. Niall nodded and carried her in, lying her down on the bed.

“Condoms?” he asked as he kissed over the soft skin of her collar bones.

“Bathroom cabinet.” He nodded and kissed her lips again before heading to the bathroom to grab one. He scanned the counter before pulling open the medicine cabinet. He pushed past hairspray and face masks and empty boxes of tampons before finding the box of condoms. He grabbed two and came back to the bed room only to find her softly snoring, passed out asleep. Niall tossed aside the condoms with a soft chuckle and slid off her shoes. He tucked her into bed before lying on the side opposite her.

Drinks: one glass of water for Niall.

Hour: 9 blissful sleep filled ones

Niall woke before her and immediately raided her medicine cabinet again, in desperate need of some Advil. He found a bottle and swallowed a few tablets dry. He snuck to her kitchen and grabbed two bottles of water before returning to bed. She woke twenty minutes after him and she instantly groaned.

“Fuck tequila,” she mumbled. Niall handed her the water and advil with a soft chuckle. “Thanks.” She took it gratefully, realising after she swallowed just who was in her bed.

“Did we…?” she asked tentatively.

“No, you passed out before we could,” Niall smirked. She nodded softly. She vaguely remembered the kisses they shared last night, and she remembered how much fun she had. It was strange to think Niall was the source of that. He broke her concentration with a easy clearing of his throat.

“Why don’t we go get some breakfast and talk?” She smiled at the ease in his voice and the clear understanding that this wasn’t going to be simple for her. She nodded and stood up to get dressed.

“That would be great.”

[kl4us4]

1AM (Bellamy Blake x Reader)

Request: I️ saw this prompt, will u make a Bellamy x reader with “I’m always a slut for deep conversations and exploring our feelings at 1 AM.” 😂❤️

A/N: this is gonna be a cute fic about being besties with Bell dont ask for a part two where they get together because i want to represent friendship between both genders that doesn’t turn into love sorry thanks enjoy bye 

masterlist

The air is cold. You feel it causing shivers all over your body as you hug the blanket tighter against you. Though it’s freezing, the air feels good when you suck it in. It refreshes you after the days events. The distant sounds of wolves makes you smile lightly but your face falls when you realise that it’s the first time you’ve really heard a wolf in real life, not just on a tape or a recording. 

There are owls in the trees above and you hear them calling one another. Though it’s dark and almost everyone in camp is fast asleep, there’s still so much life left in the wake of the moon.

The way down to Earth was - to put it lightly - horrible, and you still felt shaken up over it. You’ve already had to help Bellamy bury two people who didn’t survive the fall down to the ground. Who knows what’s yet to come?

Hearing footsteps behind you, you turn quickly. “God, Bellamy. Announce yourself, I thought you were a wolf.” 

Bellamy lets out a laugh, his hands on his hips as he looks down at you. “Y/N, if I were a wolf you’d be dead.”

“Thanks, Bell.” You reply, looking back at the distant trees as he sits beside you. You and Bellamy have been friends for the longest time, always there for one another, and always having the best of times. 

He lets out a calm breath, scanning the dark woods with you. “What’s keeping you up?” 

You shrug, not meeting his eyes. “Nothing. Just couldn’t sleep.” Lying to him has never been easy especially because he knows you better than anyone else alive. You’re both basically two halves of a whole.

Bellamy hums, knowing you’re lying to him but he doesn’t call you out on it. “Probably the same reason I’m awake.” He looks to you, acting as though you didn’t answer his question. “You can’t turn off your brain?”

Chuckling, you nod as you let out a sigh. “Yeah.” You admit, lending him a corner of your blanket which you both snuggle together in. “I just keep thinking about those two boys.”

“Me too.” He confesses, looking down at his feet. “I keep thinking about their family’s up on the Ark.” Bellamy’s always been an empathetic person and you’ve always known that he takes blame for things that aren’t his fault; like Octavia being captured and sent to the dropship.

“There’s nothing anyone could have done, Bell.” You tell him, turning to look at the saddened boy. He gives you a sole nod before looking into your eyes.

“Yeah.” He states solemnly, “That’s what I keep thinking about. I just wish it were different, you know?”

You nod, “Yeah, I know.”

He nudges your shoulder with his own, “What’s up with you, then?”

“Do you really want to get into it?” You inquire rhetorically, resting your head onto his warm shoulder. 

“Of course,” he admits, leaning his head onto yours, “I’m always a slut for deep conversations and exploring our feelings at 1am. You know that.”

Letting out an abrupt laugh, you scrunch your nose up at him as he laughs with you too. You shake your head, “I’m just worried, it’s dumb.”

He lifts his head up, looking at you. “Y/N, if it’s keeping you up then it’s not dumb.”

“I’m scared. Terrified, actually.” You tell him, letting out a shaky breathe as you run a hand through your hair, resting your hand at your warm neck. “We don’t know what’s down here, anything could kill us. I want to take care of everyone so badly but I know I can’t. I don’t want to lose any more of our people, Bellamy.” You feel tears prick at your eyes but you don’t cry, you just breathe through your anxiety.

Bellamy places his hand on yours, giving you a soft smile. “I know, Y/N/N. So do I. And you’re right, we can’t anticipate what’s to come.” He empathises with you, feeling your stress as his own. “But you always, always have me. I’ll be by your side every step of the way, and so will the 100.” He smiles, “We’ll take it day by day. Together. You’re never alone, Y/N.”

You smile brightly at him, feeling some of your anxiety dissipate into thin air. You’re the dream team, nothing will tear you apart. He’s here and there’s nothing to fear anymore. 

“Neither are you, Bellamy.” You reply, squeezing his warm hand as you give him a hug. “Thank you.” You mutter against him. The rest of the hour is spent by one another’s side, pointing out different nocturnal animals that you can hear and watching as the sky is splattered with bright stars. From a different perspective, it looks even more beautiful than it ever has in your lifetime.

[kyandice]

12/7/2017

So I’m at serangoon mrt now. Bryan saw my previous message But he didnt say anything or reply. He doesn’t say goodnight or morning.

Well I just had to control myself from sending anything. Let’s bet. He won’t send me any message until he needs his lab coat from me. After lab, he’ll go home. Start gaming. And we won’t talk until the next day. For Thursday, I don’t think we’ll have lunch tgt. And we prolly wouldn’t talk much this whole week.

He stopped asking wyd too.I mean he’ll always replies game whenever I asked what’s he’s doing.

I’ll always be there needing him badly. But it doesn’t seem that he needs me that badly.

And I’m sick. I’m at amk now. I was 38 when I checked my temp at home. There’s a delay too. I feel weak and my head hurts.

Today feels like it’s gonna be bad. I’ll update after school too.

so far I texted Bryan cuz I’m afraid he hasn’t woke up and will be late for class. But okay he’s awake. And Yeap. As I guessed. He texted me first for his labcoat.

its like 1pm now. I walked Bryan to yck mrt.

okay so guess what after sending Bteh off at yck, I walked to school. And when I was at the gate, I saw yusof and funny thing is, he told me that THERE IS NO IPC SO I COULDVE GONE HOME WITH BRYAN TODAY.

anyways , he got angry cuz I didn’t reply him but I thought it was a rhetorical question so I didn’t answer him. But yeah. Before he entered the train he kiss me and he went in the train and I cried. Dont ask me why.

today wasnt very good, but not particularly bad either. I’m like at serangoon now when I get back home im prolly gonna sleep. I hope Bryan texts me we only exchanged 14 texts altgt today. So yeah.

its really hard to control myself from saying ‘i love you’ to Bryan. And so far I haven’t got any updates. But I found out one extra thing. I’m waiting for more so I can bust her ugly ass.

my mom asked if I wanted manicure but I said no and told I her I didn’t feel well. And also I don’t wna watse her money on manicure.

im at macpherson now and idk whether to take the bus or not . I guess I’ll just walk home.

its 9:17pm, not a single text from Bryan. Not a single how are you feeling now, or are you feeling better or are you okay. I guess he doesn’t care.

why is he like that now. He can be real sweet if he wants. But he can be real cold. He’s back being like that again. And the last time that happened, he said he wasn’t sure whether if he loved me or not.

idk what if I requested to leave and he never wants me back. He’ll just leave me happily.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I texted Bryan. So much for controlling. I suggested we take a break for a month. I don’t think I can handle that. But maybe. It’ll work. Then we’ll just see if we still could continue. Maybe by then, a few girls would hit him up. I believe I deserve more than this. Maybe I haven’t been giving what Bryan wants? I hope he tells me what he really wants from me. He don’t have to tell me directly.

he hasn’t replied. It’s 10.22pm. I wonder what he’ll say. Will he agree on that?

I called him to look at his messages. HE SAID NO HE SAID NO HE SAID NO YESSSSS HE SAID NO. HE DIDNT AGREE TO HAVING A BREAK. I’m SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW IM SO GLAD HE DIDNT SAY YES. But O.M.G. HE THINKS I WANT TO DUMP HIM IM SO ALDNSKSNMSMSMXNSKSKDBWKBSSKSJS. I WANT TO SHOUT AT HIS FACE. BUT HE THINKS I DONT LOVE HIM ANYMORE IM KI nDA PISSED YET HAPPY. But he says every"let’s take a break" will lead to a break up. But that’s not true. HE THINKS I DONT LOVE HIM AND I WANT TO DUMP HIM I WANT TO TELL HIM I LOVE HIM SO FUCKING MUCH I WILL DIE FOR HIM BUT HE THINKS THAT IM GONNA FUCK ANOTHER GUY BUT NO. NO. I WILL NEVER FUCK A GUY I DONT LOVE. EVER. EVER AGAIN.

GOSH. THE ANSWERS ARE all HERE. WHEN WILL YOU CHECK YOUR TUMBLR AGAIN. ITS ALL WRITTWN HERE THIS IS YOUR FUCKING BIBLE IT HAS EVWRYTHING YOU want TO KNOW.

IM JUMPING CUZ HE THINKS I WANT TO DUMP HIM BOY I LOVE YOU 10 TIMES THAN YOU LOVE ME. BOYS ARE WEIRD CREATURES. THEY ARE SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND.

I have to sleep soon. And I think I’ll just text Bryan that I’m sleeping soon. Will he say goodnight. Will he say that he loves me. Idk but I hope he does.

so I said I’m sleeping soon, like now. And I told him to eat something small so he wouldn’t go hungry. Cuz he had been sleeping and he didn’t eat at all :(

GUESS WHAT. HE REPLIED.

HE SAID OKAY

AND

AND

AND

HE SAID

GOODNIGHT

AND

AND

I LOVE YOU

HE SAID

I

LOVE

YOU

HE SAID IT FIRST.

HE SAID IT

FIRST✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓

YES IM SO GLAD AND HAPPY I CANT SLEEP ANYMORE

I’m going to cry cuz I’m so touched. I’m actually crying right now. Really. I hope he does this more often. I LOVE LOVE BRYAN SO FUCKIN MUCH.

[vitalmindandbody]

How Donald Trump Destroyed the Political Campaign Ad

Even though he has invested much less than his competitives on advertising, the Republican nominee is still contributing the jam-pack. Is the campaign ad now antiquated?

The Republican electorate doesnt want Jeb Bush, and theres nothing he can do to change that. He is at war with the spirit of the age .

Less than two months ago the first referendums are shed in the Iowa caucuses and the New Hampshire primary, the 2016 hasten has already smashed any number of political axioms.

Its no surprise that Donald Trumpcurrently predominating the struggle, as well as the cable and broadcast systems, with his ruthless proposal to ban all non-American Muslims from penetrating the United Statesis the candidate doing the lions share of the breakage.

The most noticeable platitude that Trump has crushed to flecks is that whoever outspends his contestants on media consultants for brilliantly forceful video commercials, and the savvy acquisition of publicize epoch, too owns an daunting edge.

Yet the wildly conflicting political fates of Trump and Jeb Bushthe two best-known brand names in the Republican fieldhave belied that long-cherished belief and threatened bedrock hypothesis that underpin the profitable expedition ad-making business.

Even effective advertise is exclusively going to substance at the margins, announced expedition media expert Kenneth M. Goldstein, prof of politics at the University of San Francisco. That replied, this has been a campaign so far that had still not been driving in paid mediaeither to its implementation of polling or to its implementation of driving the media gossip. It is simply not about the ads.

While clever or provoking expedition commercials have regularly affected media coverage in the early stages of message-cluttered presidential contests, Trump has managed to explode that tradition.

His words are easily digestible and, say what you require about them, theyre not difficult to understand, Goldstein alleged. His ability to shine through the racket is strong. You dont have a lot of factors present where advertise is likely to matter.

Republican ad-maker Rick Wilson, on the other hand, argued that the death of media consulting has been wildly exaggerated.

Wilson, a Daily Beast benefactor, represented the vitality of his professing in an email: Video and digital video are a sort that beings understand; the 30 – and 60 -second spot are how most Americans come to understand produces, brands, nominees, and issues.

He contributed: Television has always been a vector to build figure discovery and programme discovery. Trump is a unicorn in this respect; as tabloid fodder for over 20 times, as a reality TV superstar, and as a creature of the media culture, hes a political outlier. Unless Kanye ranges in 2020, its unlikely reservoir realise another like him.

The question of whether Trump is a unicorn, nonetheless, is cold comfort for far-famed Republican media strategist Mike Murphy, who is running the pro-Bush super PAC, Right to Rise.

Murphy, who didnt comment to The Daily Beast, have so far been blown $31.7 million of the nearly $33 million spent on pro-Bush television and radio ads( with the Jeb! campaign proper investing $800,000) in order to achieve a shockingly anemic fifth neighbourhood in the hasten, with a 3.8 percent national polling median.

Trump, on the other mitt, has spent a merely $216,000 on paid expedition commercial-grades( merely on radio ads, and less than 1 percent of Team Bushs spend ), but has managed to increase his first-place to be translated into an average of 29.3 percentage in national polls1 4 extents ahead of his nearest challenger, Texas Sen. Ted Cruz.

In Iowa and New Hampshire statewide ballots, the narration is much the same.

In the nations first-caucus country, which votes on Feb. 1, Trump and Cruz are neck-and-neck in the lead, with Cruz actually vanquishing the reality appearance/ real estate mogul in the respected Monmouth Poll. Cruz, incidentally, has been nearly as parsimonious as Trump, spending only $850,000 to challenge the national frontrunner.

In the first-primary regime, which votes on Feb. 9, Trump is killing it at 28 percent, 16 items ahead of his closest competitive, Florida Sen. Marco Rubio, with Cruz running in third place. The hard-right Cruzs in-your-face religiosity and heated rhetoric apparently are not as good a cultural fit with starchy New Englanders as they are with evangelical Iowans.

And Team Rubios hearty advertising expenditure of $13 million, which is apparently expediting his ascension as a candidate of the GOP establishment, might offer a reassuring counterexample to the traumatized political consultant class.

University of Virginia political scientist Larry Sabato attributed the robust rise of the skinflint Trump and drain-circling track of the spendthrift Bush less to a general political direction than to the candidates particular identities in the marketplace.

Its the old story of the new puppy meat, Sabato said about the former Florida governor, the son and friend of ex-presidents and a much-lauded republican who had raised more than $100 million for the race.

Bush was once considered a exorbitant frontrunner for the Republican nomination.

The new hound food had the most beautiful label ever, the more good advertise, and hound proprietors were just pulling it off the shelves. They couldnt keep it stocked, Sabato supposed. There was just one problem. The dogs wouldnt eat it. That is Jeb Bush in a nutshell.

Sabato added that Bushs campaign commercial-grades have been perfectly presentable. His campaign for the most proportion has been well organized. But theres simply one problem. The Republican electorate doesnt require Jeb Bush, and theres nothing he can do to change that. He is at war with the minds of the the age.

This is true, Sabato supposed, although there are Bush has been receiving a disproportionately high level of free media attention given his poor action in the ballots: He was the featured client on Stephen Colberts Sept. 8 debut as CBSs late-night host; he regularly appears on the Fox News Channel, far and away the most-watched cable shop among the Republican primary voters.

I just think the produce reeks, and theres no quantity of lipstick you are able to put on it, answered a presidentially unaligned Republican ad-maker who spoke on condition of not being identified, so as not to antagonize the Bush campaign.

The Jeb Can Determine It message is wrong. It is all technocratic, and its not ideological or revolutionary.

This media consultant added that canvas after canvas shows that Republican primary voters tend to believe that the Republican establishment in Washington[ with which they associate the Bush family] has lied to them over and over again. They said they were going to repeal Obamacare and do all these interesting thing and they never get it done.

By contrast, a large segment of Trumps Republican primary advocates are white non-college voters, and if youre grey and non-college, youve got a lot of things to be upset about, the consultant prolonged. You oblige too much fund to qualify for Obamacare aids but not enough to be considered middle class. You think immigration reconstruct is going to help someone else get a job, and you dont understand the benefit of swap deals.

You think that the Washington establishment is absolutely pervert and exclusively works to get itself re-elected and does not do anything for you. At that quality, a person like Trump becomes incredibly attractive and a person like Jeb becomes everything that you want to stop.

Conservative operative David Keating, chairman of Center for Competitive Politics and widely credited as the discoverer of the super PAC, answered Trump is further advantaged by his free media comprehension becausedespite standard Republican rhetoric to the contraryvoters still find news reports more credible than paid ads.

Actual news coverage has more appraise, instant by instant, than an ad, Keating pronounced. How much higher, I dont think we know. It would be an interesting research project.

Keating said that beyond traditional television, radio and engrave and online information sources, social media is also a powerful factor.

Trump, of course, is a Twitter virtuosofar more skilled than his adversaries at grabbing courtesy with his tweets, with the other nominees forced to react and responddancing to Trumps tune, as it were.

After the loose-tongued billionaires bulletin Monday of his non-citizen Muslim ban, Jeb Bush was lowered to tweeting: Donald Trump is unhinged. His policy proposals are not seriousjust the sort of establishment critique that in the past has solid Trumps political base.

As they say, Keating memo, fund cant buy you love.

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