#Elon Musk Needs a Second Thought

[mehmetyildizmelbourne-blog]

Elon Musk Seems to Undermine Privacy of Users on X 

How Elon Musk’s X Update May Be a Global Privacy Nightmare, especially for Women or Vulnerable People It seems to me that Elon Musk is shooting himself in the foot by undermining the privacy issues of digital citizens on his X baby. His recent decisions baffle me as they threaten the very fabric of privacy for journalists and pose serious risks for vulnerable individuals like women, the elderly,…

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Hackin'

King: i can't believe elon's grok is pretending i'm friends with him King: i need to stop that AI before everyone believes it! King: i've got to hire a hacker King: franz, you've got to help me Franz Kafka: what? me? Barker: steve, no

Kafka: i'm not a hacker King: oh i thought franz was a hacker Barker: what gave you THAT impression? King: you know, with the cat ear headphones and the striped thigh socks Barker: no steve that's something ENTIRELY different Kafka: n-no it isn't, on second thought yes I'm totally a hacker

Kafka: it means i'm a hacker, nothing else Barker: sure franz Kafka: it does! it totally means i'm a hacker! Barker: franz, go play with your blahaj plush, the adults are talking here

Barker: you know who you need? you need william gibson Barker: the best hacker money can buy King: william gibson? how do i contact him? Barker: you don't Barker: he'll contact you

King: can you really hack grok, william? William Gibson: [wearing black duster and fingerless black gloves] my hacker name is shadow gigabyte King: oh sorry Gibson: can i hack grok? listen kid i was cyberbyting the megabyte mainframe when you were just rebooting your motherboard mouse data bandwidth modem email King: wow!

Gibson: my CPU is a neural net processer, a learning computer King: wow he really sounds like he knows what he's talking about! King: that definitely sounds like hacker talk to me Gibson: CD Rom Gibson: internet Joe Hill: dad can i talk to you for a second King: not now joe daddy's hiring a hacker

Gibson: [wildly slapping keyboard] i'll re-index the mega bit blaster cyber codex Gibson: [wildly slapping keyboard] now we'll cybersecurity the lock box data center King: hey what happens if you push that button? Gibson: what the-- no!! [klaxons sound] King: what's that mean? Gibson: shit Gibson: we've got company

Gibson: sentient cyber virus electronic guard cyberbots Gibson: real high tech Gibson: state of the art in bio-tech wetware neural-data scrapers Gibson: [putting on sunglasses with red laser scope] and they ain't friendly

King: what are we going to do?! Gibson: kid, you keep your hands to yourself unless you wanna become roadkill on the information super highway!!! Gibson: hold on to your CPU (central processing unit)!!!

Gibson: [wildly slapping keyboard] gotta reconfigure the darkweb logistics for ethernet wavetech Gibson: [wildly slapping keyboard] upload the memory downloader for dumpware backup Gibson: [wildly slapping keyboard] uncodify the cyberpatch modifer aaaaand Gibson: i'm in

King: wow, you hacked twitter?? how did you do it? Gibson: the greatest hackers never reveal their secrets [earlier] Gibson: [wearing fake mustache] hey elon its me catturd Gibson: could you give me your password? Elon Musk: sure it's "picklerick420"!

[idkfitememate]

Mora is a God’s Best Friend Pt. 1

♡︎ « Next Part ⋙

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Mora Reader x Liyue

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 4.6k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff, crack, reader is slightly angry, only slightly tho I promise :)

Now, you wouldn’t say you were a greedy person… which would be a huge lie because holy shit you were compared to a dragon by your friends more times than your own mother said she loved you-

When you got your paycheck - which was a very handsome paycheck mind you - you hoarded that to the best of your abilities, but when you saw something you had to have? Bought. Spent all your cash on it.

… You have to many plushies-

You weren’t exactly an avid believer in the whole “money makes the world go around!” thing, but it certainly helped. Like, have you seen how happy Elon Musk is? That bitch living the life and you want that too.

But despite your adoration to money…

THAT DID NOT MEAN YOU WANTED TO BE IT!!

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🎂🍩🍰୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

When you woke up from a nice nap after a long day of hard labor- I mean work, you couldn’t see. You also couldn’t feel your arms or legs or… well anything in general that one would say when describing their body.

You did have your five core senses though, which is nice. Well… minus sight-

You couldn’t move, and whenever you would scream the people you heard around you - their voices were muffled… were you in a pouch?? - did nothing to help.

You continued for what you assumed to be hours, never once paying mind to the fact that you never got hungry or thirsty or ran out of breath. Then you felt warmth.

Something large and warm wrapped around your form which scared the shit out of you because as far as you were concerned, you were still very human sized. You continued to scream into the darkness as you listened to the… transaction (???) going on above you and-

Wait a minute. You recognized that voice.

A lot of your money went to Genshin Impact in your day, you were what was known in the fandom as a “whale”, did I mention you got payed handsomely?

Yeah it was enough the basically be a sugar parent for all your friends.

So you heavily related to a certain character who was constantly characterized as helping another with his money problems.

Can you guess who it is?

I’ll give you five seconds to guess!

5…

4…

3…

2… fuck it I hate the suspense-

It was Childe!

And hearing his voice above you shattered what you may have thought was happening to you. Yes you may or may not have thought you were being kidnapped-

You then felt yourself get placed on another warm surface and oh god-

“All repairs will be made in a timely manner! Thank you for the patronage!”

You flipped through the air with a small ‘whoosh’ and landed back in the hand.

… WERE YOU FUCKING MORA?????

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍭🍫🍪୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Being merged to a weapon wasn’t fun.

Well at the very least you weren’t “merged” with a weapon. For some reason the blacksmith couldn’t find a way to use your specific mora body to upgrade Childe’s bow.

So there you sat as a glorified decoration. Right on the front of the bow.

But you did find something out, the second you felt yourself attach to the bow, you could suddenly see! And you could very tell that you were in Liyue, which made sense. And when you coughed on accident, the blacksmith jumped and looked around, before shrugging and turning back to her work, which meant you could now be heard as well!

All five senses back baby!

Only shitty thing was that you couldn’t move on your own, and you now noticed you were no longer hungry nor need to breathe, as well as sleep.

So you were stuck.

For four days.

Unable to speak or move.

I mean, you were still figuring out your existence yourself, no need to get anyone else involved with the process since you were beyond confused.

You’ve read the Isekai stories - and fanfics - but you had never read one personally about being isekaied as money. Yes, you have seen the vending machine one. And the one where he gets turned into a dummy ASMR head mic-

Not the point!

You were just trying to figure out how to… exist (?) like this. Which was pretty hard when coming to terms with the fact that you’d never eat your favorite foods again.

Never again…

“Thank you so much for choosing our services sir! Have a nice day!”

You were suddenly picked up and placed in the gentle care of Childe - ironic sentence I know - and off you both went.

You want to know what a weird sensation is?

Being a bow and feeling someone pluck your string.

Now yeah, that sounds super sensual but it felt more like someone… pulling your hair?? You couldn’t really place it but that was honestly the closest equivalent. Feeling him rub his hands all up and down your… body (?????) was a new experience to. Again, not sensual, just ticklish? And it sucked trying not to giggle-

God this was weird and confusing.

“Well I’m free for some time… I’m sure a little practice won’t hurt…”

Oh good god you could not catch a break.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍧🍮🍬୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

A new fear had been unlocked within you.

You, a piece of mora crudely attached to a psychopathic killers bow, had just been de-summoned.

And it hurt.

BAD.

No one will ever know what that was like, the feel yourself fading, every atom slowly falling away into nothingness, and then the silence. That cursed silence. Deep dark blackness was what you felt for what appeared to be thousands of years to your still human brain.

Never again would allow yourself to feel that pain.

As you were summoned, you continued to stare off into the distance, coming to terms with what you had just witnessed while ignoring every word that came out of Childe’s mouth.

Something or other about practicing you couldn’t give a shit.

You only watched the changing scenery around you as you and Childe wandered aimlessly through a forest.

Then he dropped to his knees suddenly, which cause you to silently curse and sputter in shock.

Did you mention you got good at that? Being silent? Because you did.

Being that you were placed on the front of the bow, you could see perfectly where he was aiming, that being a small bird that you had to squint - how you squinted? You don’t know - to see.

It was ridiculously far away, covered in leaves. You were also slightly scared because Childe was being silent.

Childe. Silent.

Not two words you ever expected to put into the same sentence - again - but here you were.

You felt the bow string being pulled back, and him lining up the shot.

Then, you felt something course through you.

Obviously it was the Hydro infused arrow he knocked onto the string, but something else flowed through you.

You could feel yourself reaching, trying to connect with something to better control this sudden power flow, and then you found a great source.

His Hydro Vision.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍡🍪୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Childe was a seasoned soldier and fighter, literally anyone who met him could tell you that.

He kept that fact near and dear to his heart, that fact being why he fought so hard, to become stronger and finally find that fight that would be the end of him.

He longed for the day where he would be strong enough to fight his mentor, and weak enough to die at someone who he saw worthy enough to end his stories and legacy.

… Legacy was such a funny word to the man as all he could think of when it was spoken was his second, stronger form, Foul Legacy. Ironically, that’s what he though historians would call his stories in the far future - he would never admit how close it was due to the Electro Delusion that sapped away at his life, slower due to his strength but sucking away his soul nonetheless - would call it, a Foul Legacy.

He was self-aware enough to understand that people hated him, yet oblivious enough to leave his family in the hands of The Rooster, a man known for leveling cites before they even had the chance to riot against himself and the Tsaritsa.

He was complex in the same way he was so easy to understand.

Just as how he allowed the world to see his Vision but kept his Delusion hidden.

Just recently he had gotten his bow repaired after a… well not a hard mission more so than it was annoying.

And by the Archons it was beautiful! Any and all scratches and marks had been repaired, a new layer of pain was an added, a stronger string was restrung into it and just… mmm she was beautiful.~

The finishing touch was the little golden emblem stuck directly on the front. So shiny and pretty…

He just had to take it for a test run!

Nothing too big or anything, just a little hunting as he hadn’t indulged himself recently. Just a couple small birds or mammals nothing anyone would notice.

… No that isn’t a human corpse nu uh ya stupid-

Besides that wasn’t with his bow! That was with his blades it doesn’t count!

But anyway, he quickly spotted his first target of the day, a little finch, and aimed.

He noted that his bow, while still heavy, felt much more sturdy and the current string was stronger than his last, most likely due to the whole “new string” thing rather than being better because that old string had weathered a lot.

He quickly knocked his first arrow and took a silent breath in, calming his shaking hands and the butterflies in his stomach. Of course neither were from fear or nervousness rather than they were from excitement and dare I say ecstasy. A smile forceably carved itself into him skin as he watched how easily Hydro infused itself with his arrow.

Though almost immediately after, he felt a sudden surge of power coming from not him nor the arrow, but the bow itself.

Specifically the small golden piece sitting front and center.

This was either an unknown or well known fact depending on who you asked, but the bow was Childe’s worst used weapon. He was much more skilled with a blade - like his duel Hydro blades or the duel-bladed polearm he wielded as Foul Legacy - and he even had some experience with a catalyst, but bows just seemed so.. cowardly. Even with his catalyst he was near to his opponents as its attacks were based on his fighting style, but he personally believed that bows were for the cowardly.

Those who wanted to fight but were too weak to even dare step foot onto a battlefield.

At least that’s what he thought before Capitano shoved a bow into his arms as he complained about needing something more to do. A new challenge.

And it opened his eyes.

Bows were not for the weak rather that they were for the stealthy. Something Childe was not the best at.

He was honestly more of a ‘punch more and talk later’ kind of guy. But the bow was forcing him to learn and grow, which was more than welcome in his book.

But this power was not something he had accessed yet. Hell, he’s barely felt anything like it with any other of his weapons. Closest he has ever gotten to this kind of power would be with Foul Legacy, and even then it’d be a stretch.

He’d even have the gall to say he could never feel this kind of power from his Master.

He watched as the area he sat in was bathed in a blue glow was his Vision and the arrow he still held grew brighter and brighter. With that, a gold shined through as the small golden piece on his bow - which now that he looked closer looked almost exactly like a piece of mora, just with the details buffered out - also glowed.

He couldn’t remember picking up any kind of ‘enchanted’ mora, just one random one he found on the roads right outside of Liyue.

It didn’t seem off in anyway-

His thoughts were cut off as Hydro swirled faster and stronger around him, knocking him off his knees and onto his ass, his grip on the arrow and bow tightening.

All the animals ran - of course including the small finch he was aiming for - from the sounds and lights, and something deep and primal inside of him wanted to run as well.

Something screamed that he wasn’t supposed to see this, to feel this.

Something was wrong.

Soon enough he couldn’t keep his grip on the arrow.

He let go.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍪🍫🍩୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Everything was a blur to you.

All you knew was that you had to let go of this build up of power.

You had to.

Something bad would happen if you didn’t and god damn it you weren’t about to find out.

You truly, desperately, just wanted to go home.

The songs of narwhals and whales comforted you.

‘You will be okay’ they sang.

You would be okay.

Just let go.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍡🍪🍬୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

People in the city watched in shock as a forest not too far from the harbor became a light show of Hydro and golden light.

Small animals and creatures ran towards the city, this including monsters, but nothing stopped to attack. In fact, it seemed like everything was too scared to even consider attacking.

Ningguang and her guards quickly ran outside to asses the situation, meeting up with fellow Vision Holders on the edge of the city.

However, Xingqiu and Yelan seemed… out of it. And on top of that, Childe - though he wasn’t her favorite he was strong and could be of help - was no where to be found.

“Does anyone have a grasp on the situation?” Nigguang asked, only to receive shaken heads and no’s.

“I tried to get close,” started Xiao, “But something knocked me back. I was able to hear the Harbinger’s screams from inside, and from what I could gather, he doesn’t seem to be the… direct cause.” Despite what he said, Xiao seemed a bit upset at the fact that Childe wasn’t the true cause, likely just wanting an excuse to beat him up a little.

The Geo ridden Lady huffed befit finally turning her attention to the two Hydro users who seemed entranced by the lights.

“What are you-“

“They call to us.” Xingqiu cut her off.

“They sing for us.” Yelan finished.

Nigguang looked back to everyone else who simply shrugged, before noticing Zhongli also looked out of it, though before she could get a word out, he also spoke.

“It’s so calming… I have not felt true peace like this in…”

He didn’t even finish his sentence. His eyes, unlike the two Hydro users, were entranced by the golden lights that highlighted the light show.

Nigguang’s face was filled with confusion. Though she shook it off.

And again, before she could give out any orders, she was interrupted.

Though not by anyone, but by the lights themselves.

A flash of blue light blinded the group.

Then, the song of a group of narwhals and whales filled the sky.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍩🍮🍧୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Blue and gold light enveloped near all of Liyue, the show being noticeable by all surrounding nations, Mondstadt especially.

And the air filled with the song of Narwhal and Whale alike.

A miracle of All-Devouring Narwhals and All-Encompassing Whales swam into the sky, dancing through the clouds.

They flew gently over Liyue, the nation having been stunned into shock and stillness over the whole situation.

Nigguang watched with bated breath as they sailed by the Jade Palace, only exhaling when they passed with not problem.

Keqing watched from beside Nigguang, mesmerized at the trail of celestial power flowing behind them.

Xiao rushed up buildings in order to get closer, but was knocked back by the sheer force of their power, though he was caught by a worried Ganyu. Both landed by an armed-and-ready Shenhe, who was more than ready to attack if need be.

Xingqiu and Yelan simply stared up at the miracle, their Visions resonating with Hydro energy they released. They felt empowered, and could feel the pure raw and unfiltered strength rolling off them in waves. They wanted to be close to that power. Wanted to feel that power.

Something deep inside them wanted that power.

Everyone in the city watched as the miracle flew just above their homes and businesses, making their presence all the more apparent as they bathed the golden city in royal blue.

This continued until a small bird was dumb enough to try and take flight to get away.

This bird being the one Childe had targeted- not that anyone knew.

The Whales and Narwhals corralled the bird, forcing it to fly higher and higher into the clouds, and it wasn’t long before all ginormous creatures followed behind it.

Then an even brighter flash of blue echoed across the skyline, small star-like glitters falling to Teyvat then fading from existence before they could touch its surface. A small amount of feathers followed after.

Nigguang could feel her jaw drop.

All that… to kill a bird?????

… She was going to need a week off just to comprehend what had just happened.

Keqing pat the woman on the back, sighing in tiredness as well.

She had a sneaking suspicion that Childe may have had something to do with this… event. Gods the paperwork she was about to be loaded with…

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍬🍯🍩୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Childe had figured out what primal instinct had led him to hide in the cave he was currently tucked in.

Foul Legacy.

He had yet to really tell anyone, but due to his time in the Abyss and its creation, it was safe to say it pretty much had a mind of its own. Which wasn’t bad as it would help him to doge attacks or alert him of presences he may not have noticed himself, but the shrieking and crying he heard from it deep in his soul was enough to tell him that this whole situation was wrong.

Nothing about what just happened should have been… well it shouldn’t have happened to say anything.

He could still hear it, resonating deep inside his soul, Electro cracking out whenever he heard a noise he couldn’t identify.

It was protecting him.

As he would for it.

He didn’t dare draw another arrow from the bow in his grasp, not until he learned what the fuck just happened. Including the fact that for some odd reason, he desperately wanted to just… stare(?) at the Narwhals and Whales until they disappeared, luckily Foul Legacy snapped him right out of that and told him to find shelter.

He did have his Hydro blades out, however, patiently waiting till he - and Foul Legacy - felt safe enough to exit.

A sudden loud caw of a bird made him flinch - not his proudest moment - and kick the bow to the side. What he wasn’t expecting was the loud string of curses that came from… the… bow..?

So now it was pinned to the wall by one blade and a foot, the other blade pointed directly at… it? There were no weak points on a bow..?

…Were there..?

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍮🍨🍪୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

This is not what you wanted.

First, you get isekaied against your will; you didn’t even remember how you supposedly DIED… if you DID die anyway…

Two, you were reincarnated as MONEY. FUCKING MONEY. How does that… who comes up with that??? A fucking high schooler who has nothing better to do than write shitty fanfiction????

And finally, three… HE KICKED YOU!!! WHO GAVE HIM THE RIGHT TO THREATEN YOU?!?

You didn’t understand your powers, what the FUCK just happened, why Hydro just… became?? you??? And why on gods green earth you had to be MORA. You’re never gonna get over that you became MORA???? Like??? Really??????? Money????? You mean, you love the stuff but COME ON-

Jesus fuckin’-

Huffing at the man before you, you finally decided speak to this bitch before you because how dare he.

“Listen here-“

You were cut off by the blade moving closer to your body(??????) and Childe growling - yes. Growling - at you.

“No you listen. I don’t know what you are but what in the name of the Tsaritsa was that?”

If only this man could see your eye twitch.

“No how about YOU listen? I don’t know what the fuck that was, but I plan on figuring it out now could you PLEASE MOVE YOUR DAMN BLADES FROM MY FACE?!?!? God…”

The Hydro blades slowly removed themselves from your face, as did the boot. But you were then picked up by the man, held shockingly gently in his grip.

“What… are you?” He asked hesitantly.

“I… I honestly don’t know how to answer that question. But I’m pretty sure I’m that little Mora piece on the front.” You answered. You forced yourself to calm down. This wasn’t his fault, just so happened to be the guy who picked you up… this was going to be a mantra for a while…

“Oh… so your this little thing right here?” You felt his fingers wrap around you - and you mean your real body - and pull. Fear immediately filled your being.

“Wait! WAIT!-“ He tugged you right out, rendering you silent.

When he pulled you out, your body glowed and you reverted back to looking like a regular piece of mora. Engravings and all.

You, meanwhile, were screaming your head off, as you now knew that if removed from a weapon, you’d just be a regular ass piece of money again. Immediately you mind started racing, wondering as to way, and the only thing you could come up with was the Elemental Energy, but lore wasn’t really your strong suit… you just liked the pretty women and men…

You felt yourself gently being pressed into the slot carved for you in his bow, and started talking again.

“NEVER! Do that again, please. Unless absolutely necessary, don’t do that. You know how terrifying it is to be able to see and speak then move a couple inches and no longer be able to see or have others hear you? Fucking horrifying I’ll tell you that…” you watched the man shiver before sighing.

“Noted. Um… anything else I should be made aware of before I ask anymore questions?”

You jumped on the opportunity.

“Whenever I am apart of your weapons. Don’t. De. Summon. Them. Hurts like hell. Ever felt your molecules beings torn apart bit by bit? Not fun, don’t recommend it.” Again, Childe shivered.

“Now… you really don’t know what that was out there?” He asked again, and you sighed.

“I wish I did. I’ll admit, I was thinking of that one move you use as Foul Legacy where you summon a Whale… and a bit of your master…”

You watched as Childe’s eyes lit up.

“You know of Foul Legacy? And of my Master?” Then his eyes darkened.

“How do you know of them..?” You shivered… as well as money can shiver anyway.

“Uhm… magic?” You asked, a noticeable tilt in your voice.

His glare then lightened up.

“Oh! Like… when you attach to a weapon, you suddenly gain a bunch of knowledge on that person?” Holy shit he just gave you a way out!

“Uh… yeah! Yeah that’s exactly what it is! You figured it out! Sorry I was uh… hesitant. Just didn’t want to reveal all my secrets, you know?” Holy shit. Holy fuck. Please work please work-

“That’s really amazing! A magical piece of mora… with the ability to make your attacks beyond that of a God’s… heheheh…”

Oop. Shit. That was not good.

“Listen. I’m not going to do anything for you without my consent, you got that? I’m not even here of my own free will mind you. Just gained sentience in your bag and all of a sudden I’m a bow. This is going to be a symbiotic relationship or I’m finding someone else, alright?” You spoke up, not even hiding the fact that you were… well a little more than concerned with what he just said.

“… What are you going to do if I don’t respect your wishes?” Shit fuck shit fuck-

“… I will scream next time you use me.”

And into a standstill you both sat.

He stared at you and he could feel you glaring into him. It was probably weird feeling a bow glare into him. New feeling he never thought he’d feel before.

“… Alright. Taking someone’s free will isn’t really something I do anyway. So don’t be fearful… comrade?” Was he asking your name..?.. Eh. Comrade is nice and you don’t feel like giving it out so meh.

“Comrade works. And uhm… yeah.” Welp that was awkward. Good job 👍🏾!

The two of you continued to stare at each other in silence for a few moments.

“So… what’s your favorite dish?”

“I can’t eat asshole-“

“Childe!”

The mentioned man whipped his head in the direction of the call, honestly scaring you with how fast it moved - you are a hundred percent sure you heard a crack.

By the covered entrance of the cave stood Nigguang, Keqing, Zhongli and both Hydro Vision users. Nigguang was the one to call him.

“What are enough doing out here? Do you have any idea was caused… whatever that was?? And - as much as I hate to ask - are you alright?” She was firing questions out at an extreme speed, making both you and Childe dizzy.

“Uhm… I was hunting, I… haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about! And yes , I am okay. Thank you for asking?” You knew he sucked ass a lying but like… how did that sound convincing in anyway?? The hesitation just made it worse!-

“You haven’t the foggiest clue, you say…” Keqing asked while glaring at the ginger. Ed She Ran lookin’ headass-

“Yep! No idea, not the slightest idea, definitely wasn’t my bow or the enchanted mora on it! Nope not at all.”

The group looked at him, and he looked at them.

They looked at him, and he looked at them.

They looked at him, and he looked at them.

And this went on for several minutes before this super smart man said:

“Yep, not me at all.”

And before anyone coup ask questions you groaned, forcing all attention into yourself before tearing him a new one.

“You dumb motherfucker! “I haven’t the foggiest idea😢” my ass!”

“How did you say that?-“

“Shut your bitchass up before I sew it shut. I should beat your ass for that. How they fuck you gonna say some shit like that and expect them to just go “Oh okay!😚” like some dumbass?”

“No really how-“

“I will slap the stupid outta you don’t fucking test me ginger bitch. Fatherless. That’s why your father sold you ass off it’s cause you so DAMN stupid, Jesus.”

“Mora?”

“What do you fucking want you cunt.”

“… We’re still in front of people.”

“… I will not hesitate to shoot all of you-“

… Nigguang was going to have so much paperwork tonight.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : MORA!READER MORA!READER MORA!READER MORA!READER MORA!READER LETS GIVE IT UP FOR MORA!READER!!!!! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚

They’re here you guys!!!! Get happy get wild!!!! Holy shit that ending was mild!!! I hate it!!! Anyway-

This is gonna SAGAU because… meh. But that doesn’t matter! Their here! But I’m not done yet, next thing on my checklist is humanizing the animals (Main ones) so I’ll be be radio silent for a bit again lmao (unless I choose to post shit which is very likely-) ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Mora!Reader! More is, of course, on the way! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

Have a magnificent day/night my dears!~

/)/)

( . .)

c( づ♡ Loves you guys!! <3

[alexfromjersey]

𝓛𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓓𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮 & 𝓢𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓜𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓪

jenna ortega x g!poc

summary: jah and jenna struggle with the long distance.

warnings: mature language, mentions marijuana

a/n: shortest chapter I ever wrote for this series but dont say I never gave yall nothing. ngl I be forgetting that I made Jah a streamer/influencer 😂. Imma start incorporating more like social media aspects to here cause this was fun

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

ONE WEEK LATER

“Yo I’m the greatest friend to ever walk planet Earth bruh. Davis finally let his balls drop and now him and Diana are going on a date together” You gushed to the brunette.

“Finally” Jenna chuckled.

It was currently 11 p.m. in London, which meant it was 6 p.m. in New York. Jenna just finished filming for the day and she needed to hear your voice. This is the first time in a week she's seen your face.

She was still on edge about Neil and hasn’t told you. She didn’t want to bring you into her mess and potentially end up finding out about her past. So she kept it to herself.

Your eyes were glued to the screen as you played Call of Duty, "Yeah I told him I'll help him plan his date since he wants to impress her."

"How sweet of you. I didn't know you had a sweet side to you sour patch kid" Jenna teased.

You stick your middle finger up at her to which she lets out a cute little giggle.

"So what's up with you? How filming going?" You asked and pushed your headphones behind your ears. Jenna had tried to stop the thoughts that ran through her mind a mile a second just now. But it was difficult when you looked good with a white tank top on displaying your tattoos, grey sweatpants, your chain dangling from your neck which she wants to grab at, and your glasses on.

After a moment, Jenna snapped out of her thoughts to answer your question, "It's going fine. Tim is forcing me to have a stunt double for the majority of my stunts which sucks because he don’t even know I’m pregnant" Jenna answered.

“Probably got that intuition” You shrugged.

“I guess. But other than that, filming is fine. Quiet little London Town that I can’t remember for the life of me” Jenna said and laid down in her bed. She let out a yawn.

“Go to sleep mamas. Call me when you get up” You said.

“No I wanna talk to you. I haven’t seen your face in a while” Jenna pouted.

You smiled, “But you need sleep. I know you probably have to get up mad early.”

“Yeah around like 4” Jenna sighed.

“See. Call me when you get me I’ll be up” You said.

"Okay," Jenna pouted. She hangs up the phone and turns over to stare at her ceiling.

She felt tears start to gather under her eyes but she quickly wiped them away. She was struggling with the just being friends with you. Each day, her feelings for you grow stronger but it was still something holding her back from pursuing you. She needed to figure it out quickly because she don’t know how much longer she can take it.

🤰🏻🩵

As the phone hung up, you let out a sigh and rubbed your face. You missed her badly. You wished you could just book a spontaneous flight over to London but you couldn’t…just yet.

You needed a distraction. You grabbed your phone and hopped onto your most used app, Twitter (you was not calling that shit X or whatever fuck Elon named. Fuck Elon Musk).

@bronxsheisty: can't wait for you to get home, we ain't got to go nowhere

Immediately, you started getting replies and quotes on your tweet.

@shiestylover: uh oh who’s this about 👀

@ghostridingwhip: jah is possibly taken? yeaaaaa let me go jump into oncoming traffic

@highondatgreen: it’s about me duh

@fnthechat: omg potential song lyrics! DROP THE SONG NOW

@modernbussywhip: i might have an idea and y’all never would of guessed it

@ghostridingwhip: oh do tell @modernbussywhip

@modernbussywhip: nah I need more evidence to support my claim but imma dm you my theory so far @ghostridingwhip

@bronxshiesty:

@modernbussywhip: oop-

@bronxshiesty: u should like share with the class @modernbussywhip

@modernbussywhip: i should share u with the class? couldn’t agree more

@bronxshiesty: oh that’s not- @modernbussywhip

@modernbussywhip:

@munchiesinmycrunchies: day 293792873 of asking for music

@ExclusiveShiestyUpdates: day 293792873 of waiting for an Instagram pic

@bronxshiesty: heard @ExclusiveShiestyUpdates

You exited out Twitter and went to Instagram. You found a pic you took yesterday and decided to post it.

bronxshiesty posted on Instagram after a while.

liked by jennaortega, davison, and 14,574 others.

bronxshiesty i was told to post on here so here u go

View all 9,836 comments

davison 🥶

↳ bronxshiesty u know the vibez

kaicenat god did

↳ bronxshiesty god did 🫣

elfanum big bronx all day 💯

↳ bronxshiesty everyday word 💯

↳ user3836 amp x shiesty collab?

↳ bronxshiesty @elfanum @kaicenat 👀

bbq.days i spy with my little eye a 5’1 boricua in the likes

kaydotnyc_ when u streaming

↳ bronxsheisty sometime tonite

mrenriquemelendez has started following bronxshiesty

aliyah.ortega has started following bronxshiesty

natalieortega1 has started following bronxshiesty

corneilo.millers has started following bronxshiesty

You don’t know what prompted you to click on Neil’s profile but you did. You saw that he was followed by Jenna and Jenna’s mother and he was a businessman. You followed back everyone and closed out your apps. Your eyes then glance down at the flyer on your coffee table. You grabbed it and exhaled deeply. You typed in the website in your phone and hit the registration button.

Here’s to opening more opportunities.

🤰🏻🩵

"I did it" You inhaled the smoke from the blunt. You leaned over and passed it to Davis who took it.

"Did what?" Davis questioned.

"I signed up for the competition. I kept staring at it on my table and just said fuck it" You shrugged and fixed your pants that were riding up your legs.

"Aye let's go" Davis cheered. He dapped you up to which you rolled your eyes at him with a smile.

"You need a musical stage name. You already got a streamer name but it won't be catchy or marketable to the music industry" Davis stated.

"I was thinking just Jah" You answered.

Davis puffed out a cloud of smoke, "Just Jah? I mean it flows sorta...Just Jah or JJ. It's aight"

"No dumbass I mean just my name Jah" You laughed.

"Oh! You could get away with it" Davis said. You knew he was high as a kite right now cause he started acting slower than usual when he was intoxicated.

The two of you then hear a ding from your phone. You grabbed it and saw it was a video from Jenna. You click on it and it starts with her showing her belly.

"Officially 14 weeks pregnant and the baby is the size of a navel orange," Jenna said and showed her belly. It was protruding more now but she was still able to hide it. Only if you got super close to her stomach you'll see she's pregnant but ain't nobody getting that close to her. "I want some oranges now. My appetite has skyrocketed now but luckily my boobs are not as tender anymore, thank god-"

In the background, you heard someone call Jenna's name. She sighed before turning back to the camera, "I have to get back on set but I just wanted to give you a quick update on us. I miss you and two months need to come quicker" Jenna said and kissed the camera. You smiled at the video and rewatched it again.

NYC 🩵:

miss you too 😘❤️

i also want some oranges now

"You know for two people to say that they’re just friends. Yall sure do act like a couple." Davis asked.

“No we don’t. Two friends can’t say they miss each other now” You questioned.

“I’m not talking about that. It’s your body language and the way you act around each other that’s unfriendly like” Davis said.

You suck your teeth, “You go to Hollywood and become an expert in body language and shit.”

“I’m just saying. The two of you need to stop whatever the fuck this is and just get together.” Davis shrugged.

You sighed, “You don’t think I want that. I haven’t been in a relationship in mad long. But something feels different with her like different in a way I never felt in a relationship before. I miss her being around, talking to her, and even just showing her around the Bronx. It's weird feeling this way...a good weird.” You finished off the blunt in your hand.

"It's called love nigga" Davis laughed.

“Alright let’s settle down. That’s a big word to be assuming” You said.

Davis chuckled, “Have your ever been in love before?”

You open your mouth to answer yes but you stop yourself and really think if you actually been in love or not. Sure you’ve been in relationships with girls before but they never made you feel like this. You never felt this way about a girl before.

“I’m guessing that’s a no” Davis chuckled.

“Shut up” You grumble and placed your hands in your pants. You get comfortable on your couch letting the effects of the marijuana relax your mind and body. Davis started drifting off to sleep next to you. But suddenly, your mind starts to overthink about the prior conversation.

Shit, now this was gonna be on your mind all night.

🤰🏻🩵

a/n: i want someone to take care of me like that black woman be taking care of her pitbull on TikTok

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @raven-ss @fanboy7794 @morganismspam23 @cinffy23 @darklron @cheesybacon1 @octavias-next-meat-bite @playboysaleen @niqmandu @zaclewiss @yescruzzzzzzz @silentfor @gemz5 @alwaysdangerouschild @onceblinkarmyandmore @melonfruit442 @zataracloud @nepobaby08 @jennasslut @rimaybank @jaewu @j3nc0re

[itsallpoliticsstupid]

The US Presidential Election 2024 - A mini Deep Dive into what went wrong for the Democrats

I would say this will be my last post on the US Presidential Election of 2024, but we all know it won't be.

I wanted to bring all my thoughts together as to what I perceive the biggest issues for the Democrats were, and how this needs to be rectified in 2028. Well, they won't listen to some random person on a Politics blog with *checks* 44 followers (oh hi, thanks for following), but this is my opinion.

And interestingly, it all starts with the sale of a certain social media platform.

October 2022 - Elon Musk buys Twitter

In my personal opinion the acquisition of Twitter was a major contributing factor to how the election was won. Elon Musk has never been quiet about his Political leanings being closer to the Conservative ideology and how he believed that it was wrong to silence those on the right for their views. So Trump et al. Going as far as to reinstate their accounts.

We all know that Twitter has now become a very toxic place. With extreme ideological views. I feel it was easy to use this platform to peddle a more Trump ideal for the election. It's still one of the biggest platforms out there, why wouldn't it be used to try and win an election. And without it, it would have made things significantly harder for the Republicans to reach a larger audience.

Anyway, this isn't just me twitter bashing. This is me actually analyzing what the situation is.

So back to what the Democrats did wrong.

Joe Biden confirms he will run for President

I believe the election was lost from the moment that Joe Biden made the decision to stand as President for a second term.

This is where everything fell apart, and set a tone for the remainder of the election. Joe Biden was not medically fit to run for the Presidency, and it had been so clear towards the end of his first term as President. You could see he was struggling in front of camera. Getting words wrong. Forgetting the most basic of things. It was a bad look for the Democrat's, and something that the Republican's could easily jump on.

It meant they could capitalize on it and make the Democrat's look like a party of weak leadership.

By the time he dropped out, Kamala Harris had approximately 100 days of campaigning. It wasn't enough. It didn't allow her to really put herself forward as an ideal candidate.

Which leads me to...

Kamala Harris - what did she stand for?

Outside of the right to healthcare/abortions I can't name what Kamala Harris stood for in this election. To me she was a status quo candidate at a time where American's needed assurances due to the increase in cost of living; terrible wars in the Middle East and Ukraine; and high levels of immigration.

Regardless of how bad Trump's policies were (and as we are seeing they are BAD) they were offering an alternative. One that people have been crying out for because they're struggling with the most basic things in their life.

Unfortunately the alternative is likely to make things significantly worse for the American people. But when somebody is saying they will lower costs for you, it's something you take at face value. Especially if you don't necessary understand the impact of raising tariffs or the removal of the affordable care act.

It's just sad that the Democrat campaign was so bad and didn't offer an alternative, it allowed this to happen.

Celebrity Endorsements

I was in two minds about what to put next. This or negative campaigning. But I think this one works.

Whilst Trump was backed by people like Elon Musk, I don't believe he had anywhere near the level of celebrity endorsements that Kamala had, and it very often doesn't work in a persons favor for a couple of reasons.

The first is I think there was a heavy reliance on people listening to their favorite celebrities when considering who to vote for. But in many cases, people will see an endorsement from Taylor Swift, or Misha Collins, or Bruce Springsteen and think 'well, what the hell do they know about what I am currently facing.' A lot of people will view celebrities as out of touch with the reality of today's world.

I'm not saying this is always the case. But that's what the average voter who has zero understanding of Politics will think. That somebody who has millions in the bank will never understand the struggles of having to hold down three jobs to feed your children, or pay your mortgage. And yes, there is a level of cognitive dissonance there because they don't think the same for Trump or Musk, but they seem them as a ruling elite who have the knowledge to make things better for the country. Not just a 'bleeding heart liberal' who just hates the right and has no business being in Politics.

I see the second that it took away from Kamala Harris as a candidate, and shielded a lot of the issues that she had. I think the endorsements worked for Obama because he had charisma. He offered something different. But for Harris, it was just a shield to show she had nothing.

And really, for the reasons above, it was a shield that didn't work as many people were turned off and inevitably chose not to vote.

Negative Campaigning

It never works. It's as simple as that. It never works.

And ultimately I feel that's what the Democrat campaign boiled down to. Being as negative as possible about the Republican's. About their views on abortion. About how many of them are Russian sympathisers. About Trump's health. And that always leaves people thinking 'they can't be that bad though.' And I think a lot of people got turned off by voting Democrat for that reason.

There is more. If I was to do more research I could continue for hours with this. Maybe I will come back with a part 2 when I have had more time to digest everything. But right now, these to me have been the biggest drivers behind the Democrat's losing the election.

And not the fact Kamala Harris was a woman like some people who like to believe.

It's time for the Democrats to stop burying their head in the sand and listen in time for the 2028 election.

[sevdrag]

hello sev i am sorry to bother you but. if you have the time. could you PLEASE elaborate on how you thought elon musk was a tumblr meme i have not been able to stop thinking about it

So. The first thing you need to know about me is that I haven't been able to follow the news for the last, like, well. About 10 years. First I was in a black-hole-of-employment, and then once 2016 hit, reading the news just made me unhealthy levels of furious. So I stopped doing it for my own sanity. This, more than anything, allowed me to live a blissful life where Actual Husband could update me every weekend on anything important, while I had a drink in my hand. I ignored as much news as I could during those years, cause it turned me into something horrible. So! That's the foundation of this story.

I also don't pay attention to, like, famous people and stuff. At all. I thought the band was called One Directional, okay? I am happy in my little corner.

The second thing to note is that while I'm quite intelligent, I also am incredibly scatter-brained. It's the ADHD.

The third is to note that I'm a heavy Tumblr user. I've curated my dash here to show me, mostly, things I like to see. It's relaxing.

So I saw all the memes about Glup Shitto and Blorbo and a million other made-up Tumblr names (whatever they were back in like 2015-ish) during my daily lunchtime scroll, right? SO when I see a post about a guy named Elon Musk, paired with something absolutely fucking ridiculous, my brain just goes: Oh. Tumblr made up another meme guy. This one's rich. That's funny.

I don't remember, but I'm possibly even reblogging stuff about Elon Musk during this time, still thinking it's a meme name. I mean, look at it. Elon Musk. Sorry, dudebro, but your name be dumb.

Elon Musk wants to build his own spaceship. Okay, Tumblr. Sure. It's like a Tony Stark that's just buttfuckingly stupid. I get the meme. Cause, like, he does crazy fucking stuff, right? Crazy stupid stuff. Gotta be a meme. Tumblr's really going for it, I think. Alright.

Anyway, Elon Musk comes up in a Discord GC one day, and my friends are talking about him like he's a real person, and I just said:

Hold on. I thought he was a meme.

Chat, of course, is silent for a drastically embarrassing amount of time, and then explodes.

And that's how I learned, in front of a bunch of friends, that Elon Musk was NOT a tumblr meme character, but a real-life idiot doing real-life crazy ass shit. It took me a humiliatingly-ass time to realize it, and I DO still get Sevdragged about it to this very day.

tl;dr due to my head-in-the-sand tendencies and my love of Tumblr, unlike the rest of you, I had a blissful period in my life where Elon Musk was completely made-up.

I wish that were still true.

[kawaiibunnora]

Top 10 Game Changer Episodes

In lieu of the recent WatchMojo video, Top 10 Best Game Changer Episodes, I feel like making my own top 10 Game Changer eps in spite of them. (fyi I will be grouping any repeating episodes into one unit. Ex: Sam Says, Sam Says 2, and Sam Says 3 would all count for "Sam Says")

10. Bingo The reason this episode makes it into my person top 10 is because of how many times I was caught off guard. The plot twist AFTER the plot twist made this episode such a fun watch. Also I love seeing the cast torture Brennan by making him "defend" Elon Musk /lh

9. Deja vu Everybody do the Wenis! The Wenis is a dance. Everybody is a genius who knows it in advance! This episode has such a great cast and the reoccurring bits were so fun. I loved how they started bribing Brian to stay quiet, and I'm personally just a huge sucker for time loops (one of my favorite games is In Stars and Time)

8. Yes or No Do I even need to explain this one? Just go watch the clip if you dont know why this is here. Look up "Brennan Lee Mulligan monologue" and you'll understand why this episode is in the top 10. The only reason the episode isnt any higher is because the bulk of the episode is pretty forgettable.

7. Second Place Another Brennan monologue!!! Honestly, If Brennan stares into the camera and monologues for a solid minute or two, that episode is guaranteed to be in the top 10, but, what puts this episode above Yes or No is the episode itself. The cast is so full of life and passion, and Brennan's consistent philosophy throughout the whole episode makes it one of the greats.

6. Don't Cry I have been a Dropout member for 2-ish years now. When I first became a member, I binge-watched all of Game Changer. Or at least I thought I did. It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I saw someone mention Don't Cry and I had no idea what episode it was. So I went back, watched the episode, and was in tears by the end of it. Not only is the episode a beautiful gesture for an amazing writer and comedian, but every word spoken felt genuine, which made the entire episode so much more impactful.

5. A Game Most Changed Every single Dropout cast member is extremely talented, but not once have I seen an improve show as breathtaking and skillful as A Game Most Changed. The amount of skill and talent that is required to improvise an entire Shakespearean play while being thrown those curveballs- the insane coordination between the three actors, with each setting the others up for points. Despite playing for points, the cast frequently set up the others to succeed, favoring storytelling over winning. Absolutely beautiful.

4. Escape The Backroom Pure, unadulterated entertainment. Watching 3 grown adults go ape shit trying to solve puzzles and escape an escape room while unsubtly threatening their captor. Brennan, Lou, and Siobhan have such good chemistry as a team, leading to some of my all-time favorite Game Changer clips. The creation of an entire story for the escape room was inspired, and Sam's switch at the end was just the cherry on top.

3. Sam Says Whenever I have a friend over and I want to show them one Game Changer episode to represent EVERYTHING that Game Changer can be, I show them Sam Says. Each episode has an amazing cast that bounces off each other, and each episode continues to surprise and delight me. Personally, I think Sam Says 2 is the best, but all 3 are fun, high-energy, and insane. Perfect for comedy television.

2. Survivor The tension. The trust. The drama. The betrayal. And, most importantly, the funnies. These episodes have it all and more! In a game where relationships ARE the game, we, as the audience, get invested in each player. And as Brennan seemingly schemes and plots his way to victory, Lou manages to rival Brennan and best him in a game of trust and loyalty. Survivor truly shows what Game Changer can be, and as we see in later seasons, the show keeps evolving from there.

1. Make Some Noise Season 1, Episode 2. SEASON 1, EPISODE 2. Clipped so much that it got it's own show which is now clipped even more. The reason many people sign up for Dropout (and for good reason), this episode puts 3 of the most talented comedians in a space to just be funny. These episodes not only contain some of the best Game Changer moments, but they contain the best Dropout moments, the best impressions, and the best jokes I've ever heard. It's no wonder that these episodes got spun-off into its own show, which is now one of the primary advertisements for Dropout in the form of YT shorts. Brennan, Zac, and Josh are all so talented in drastically different ways, and by putting all three together, something magical happens. Make Some Noise is the gateway into all of the amazing content on Dropout. It is the best episode of Game Changer without a doubt. Season 1, Episode 2, Game Changer, Dropout.tv.

[sirfrogsworth]

The Babylon Bee School of Comedy

Have you ever wanted to make Elon Musk reply to you with a double cry laughing emoji?

If you crave that sweet billionaire validation you need only follow this carefully crafted conservative comedy content creation course for that powerhouse of online satire... The Babylon Bee.

Soon you too could be bootlicking billionaire balls with the rest of The BBee writers.

Are you ready to get your learn on?

Let us Bee-gin.

The number one most important rule that all The BBee writers must internalize to their core...

Conservative comedy abhors effort.

Brainstorming for hours on end to craft the perfect premise and punchline... is for the Libs. Check out this Facebook meme that got 10,000 likes.

Can you order Starbucks from a bar? Doesn't matter, it's a snowflake drink for a snowflake Lib.

Does this joke not have an actual punchline? Doesn't matter, get lost you stupid Lib!

Is this technically a joke by definition? Doesn't matter, if you believe it is a joke, then it's a joke! Just like modern currency.

If you put too much thought into a joke, it might grow in complexity. That could be confusing! The death knell of any conservative joke are the words, "Hmm, that's a thinker."

This brings us to rule number two...

NO THINKERS!

Let's take this Ben Garrison comic as an example.

Spell everything out! Label everything! Don't leave anything to the imagination! If your audience has to figure something out or draw their own conclusions, what fun is that?

Conservatives want to hear things that are familiar. They want their beliefs parroted back at them. You must regurgitate those beliefs and then just make it *sound* like a joke. Don't break new ground or introduce new ideas. Don't get all caught up in interesting wordplay or clever puns or subverting expectations.

All expectations should be fully verted.

That is definitely a word because I saw someone use it on Facebook. End of research.

Here is a helpful tip. If you can't imagine the joke coming out of the mouth of late night comedy genius GUTFELD!, then you need to dial it back a bit. Do not surpass GUTFELD! levels of humor. GUTFELD! is your touchstone.

Oh, GUTFELD! I laughed so hard I FELD it in my GUT.

See, I went too far with my fancy pun. That is not the GUTFELD! way.

But what happens if inspiration is fleeting and you can't pay attention to your comedy writing task because you don't believe ADHD is real and thus you are unmedicated?

Don't you worry. If you do happen to get writer's block or are distracted by a funny Pepe meme or a shiny object, just call your racist uncle and say the magic word... "Bidenflation."

As the ensuing unhinged rant darts from subject to subject without any kind of connecting theme, just start writing down every right wing buzzword you hear. Then just insert those buzzwords Mad Libs-style into a derivative joke format.

Let's practice!

Ex. 1: Why did the PRONOUNS cross the BORDER? To get to the DRAG QUEEN STORY HOUR!

Ex. 2: How many GENDERS does it take to GROOM a lightbulb? Two! One to hold the BUTT PLUG and one to GO WOKE, GO BROKE.

Great start! I'm sure with a polishing pass those will make more sense. Or not. The bar is pretty much "will it get clicks?" so we're not too worried about coherence.

Heh... Mad Libs.

U MAD, LIBS?

Get it? Cuz Libs are always mad? About the normalized bigotry and whatnot.

Jokes are always better when you need to explain them.

Oh! That's another rule. Write that down. Wisdom like this is why I am teaching this course, of course. Hah, that's like that horse show song. I got jokes coming out the wazoo. Wazoo is my butt, right? Siri, is wazoo a butt? Oof, I'm kinda spacing on what the next lesson is.

I really wish Matt Walsh hadn't flushed my Adderall down the crapper.

Can I get a second opinion? Top Gun was so good. What does Tom Cruise think about ADHD? He always has good takes on stuff like this. Did I leave my oven on? Shazam, what song goes doodoo doo doo doooooo? Can you vacuum a yard? Has anyone tried that? That sounds more like a marijuana thought than an ADHD tangent. I should double check the THC content of that cotton candy vape juice.

I'm flyin' off the rails over here.

Matt, are you super duper sure it's not real?

Okay, fine. I'm an "energetic boy."

I hope whichever fish absorbs my meds is extra focused on whatever fish shit he needs to get done.

COMEDY WRITING!

Sometimes it is best to learn through observation. Let's eavesdrop on an actual The BBee writer's room to see how the sausage is made...

"So what did your racist uncle have to say?"

"Well, first he texted me a cameraphone picture of Trump as an astronaut that he wants me to print out cuz he doesn't know what a crypto wallet is... but then he said all the woke schools are turning kids into a bunch of gay commies."

"EUREKA!"

Classic! The BBee writers strike again. I mean, they aren't striking. There is no commie clamoring for a union at The Babylon Bee. That's for damn sure. FOCUS!

Do you get the joke though? With the kids and the gay and the communism?

Because all of those woke schools totally cover complex economic theories in 4th grade and all it takes to turn gay is a little persuasion from a teacher with green hair. Libs of TikTok wouldn't lie about that. End of research.

Look at this public school teacher!

I mean, you knooow she has a litter box in her classroom. I can just sense it. End of research.

Sure... it is just a context-free picture of a person with green hair in front of a flag and you cannot actually judge the quality of their teaching ability from this. But yoouuu knoooooow she is skipping right over grammar lessons and giving detailed instructions on how to turn gay.

Step 1: Look at a bunch of butts. Step 2: Touch a bunch of butts. Step 3: Gay sex a bunch of butts.

(Replace butts with cooches for lesbians.)

Grooming accomplished.

And you definitely shouldn't look up that green-hair'd, nose ring'd educator and research her any further. Extensive research is for the Libs, bro. Because you definitely don't want to discover she is a passionate high school English teacher who makes fun content on TikTok in the hopes that people will buy things off her wishlist so her students will have a better learning experience. I mean, caring about her students? That's so gay.

YoooOOOuuuUUU knnnooooooOOOw she is a bad teacher because she has green hair and a flag. End. Of. Research.

So... you have your gay communist headline that is perfect to get all of those sweet conservative clicks. But you still have a full webpage to fill out with more words and stuff.

Now I want to see if you learned anything from my perfectly focused and informative teachings. I want you to write some jokes about kids becoming gay communists.

Ready? GO!

Joke #1 Little Billy has wealthy parents so all the students will share his cookie at snack time.

Joke #2 At the beginning of the day, students pick a new gender out of a hat but all the kids fight over Attack Helicopter.

Joke #3 At lunch, the students have to stand in a peanut butter and jelly bread line.

Joke #4 The teacher makes the kids take turns combing each others' hair for a grooming session.

Wait a sec... are those... THINKERS?

No no no no no! You made my brain all confused and thinky!

You need to calm down, you overachieving silly billy. You forgot the first rule... NO EFFORT.

Just make the same joke over and over again with slightly different wording. EASY!

Remember the classic final rule of comedy...

Jokes always get funnier the more you repeat them.

Anyway, that's probably enough... joke.

Now let's close this article out!

Maybe we can drop the pretense this is comedic satire and just do some hardcore pandering. Gotta own the Libs, amirite?

Gender theory and drag queens and guns, oh my! That is pure pander-monium.

Just shove those factless tactless Tucker talking points straight down their gullet. They'll forget this was supposed to be funny and shake their fist in the air with exaltation. And it's definitely a great idea to put the thought of gunning down drag queens in their heads. That won't backfire in any way!

Congratulations! You are now ready to "write" for The Babylon Bee.

Please purchase this official Trump NFT certificate for $99 that acknowledges that you have completed this course and have a very poor understanding of what satire actually is.

End of research.

[goodluckclove]

A Meandering Ramble on AI Art Because I Have a Cold and I'm here to Hopefully Not Start an Argument.

Okay, so I had someone comment on some post I made about writing advice that causes shame, and they decided to add the clarification that my words didn't apply to people who use AI in their writing. I responded, mainly saying that I saw their point, but that I'd say shaming someone who uses AI in any fashion is far more likely to just get that person to double down. They seemed annoyed by me saying this for a variety of reasons. I blocked them because if someone says "it's not my job to educate" it's rarely an earned perspective and it only reminds me how it's not my job to have a conversation with them.

It is my job to make too-long essays about things to help me process thoughts in a way other people might find interesting. So for your consideration I have a sort of wandering, cough-syrup addled Think Piece about AI art that is not pro-GenAI, but also doesn't just say fuck AI and fuck anyone who uses it because that is also wrong. I have a ton of links that I'm hoping are right, as well as a ton of outsider/folk artists, as well as a few AI artists I think are great.

Also there's a drawing of Link I did. He's nude. There's no dick but it's still very bad. He's either about to eat trash off the ground or he's screaming at a bit of hot dog.

Enjoy???

I mean I get it. I'm also easily aggravated by the type of person who is staunchly, aggressively defensive over Generative AI tools. They might be the kind to talk about the "democratization of art" and how genAI means anyone can be an artist. This line of thinking makes me very angry - not because I don't think anyone can be an artist, but because the fact that so many have been sold on needing some Big Tech start up to make that happen is infuriating. Anyone can already be an artist.

Anyone can be an artist. Anyone. Anyone can be an artist! This has been a case for a long, long time.

I get the sort of novelty of image and text generators. I'll go ahead and say what other writers might be unwilling to admit - if there was a provably ethical LLM I would absolutely love to collaborate on it for a project. The ethics of a lot of genAI is debatable - truly coasting on legal gray areas and hidden opt-out buttons - but it's enough that I'm not into it. Even without the practices of OpenAI, a company where every headline I see around it makes them sound comically sketchy. A lot of the reasons why I wouldn't collaborate with an LLM as they are now are the same things that would keep me from collaborating with another human writer (Maybe stealing, almost certainly wrong about potentially important things, loved by Elon Musk, ect.).

But I don't see myself ever using a genAI to do the entirety of any of the writing process for me - because I enjoy writing. I've been doing it for a long time now. I am objectively skilled enough that a select populous of people are willing to pay me for it on purpose, and since I find it fun and fulfilling I have yet to found a form of even minor automation that appeals to me.

But I also draw and paint, and I am far less skilled at that than I am at writing. I could certainly tweak at various Midjourney prompts to create something visually cool, but if I did that I'd be robbing myself the joy that came from trying to draw Link from Legend of Zelda from memory (he's either eating trash or lamenting his fallen lunch, I can't decide).

My wife saw this and their first note was that he "looks like the Grinch". Their second note was that his ass should be bigger. They also drew the fart cloud. Collaboration. This was the hardest I've laughed all day.

If you're a person who uses AI to help in art, or to do the entirety of image/writing/music creation - at this point you have to know the arguments against it. GenAI uses energy for each output - more for images than text, probably even more for videos. But so do tons of other things.

I did my best to research and calculate, and it seems like every 100 outputs of genAI images uses roughly .29 kWh, which is the rough equivalent of three hours of streaming video, running a Dyson vacuum cleaner for an hour, or using an average microwave for 10 minutes straight. It also uses water to cool the servers, right? A lot of water during a time of looming water scarcity across the globe. It's pretty likely that the water is being reused through a closed-loop system, meaning the 16 ounces that are spent for every 5-50 queries on ChatGPT aren't likely to go to waste. But with the exponential spike of data centers being built - some in parts of the country that require far more water to stay cool - that's still a pretty big water footprint. It does good, useful things for society and it's also used for crimes. This is true for most technology. But it seems, from what I've seen, that the parts of AI that are the most accessible to the public at large (GenAI mainly, run by a select major companies) are the ones most likely to be used for questionable purposes right around now.

But in all honesty I don't imagine a majority of people using genAI are using it for crime, or even deepfaked nudes. It's happening, but I imagine that's a loud minority. I don't even think most people using it to tout about being artists. I imagine most people just find it novel, or an accessible way to get into a craft that otherwise feels unavailable for them for whatever reason.

For a lot of people with no experience in forming any sort of creative practice, the concept of a machine that can fairly effectively mimic the styles of existing artists without their consent might come across as inconsequential. It might even get harder to find that understanding as you get deeper and deeper in the practice of genAI art - which, as far as I understand it, removes the creator entirely from developing an individual style.

When I say style in this point, I don't mean a completely original perspective free of any outside influence. I mean a combination of background, influence, and medium used that allows someone to recognize you in your work without you needing to say you made it. I know my writing is not entirely original. I can happily list what I've been influenced by. At the same time, I've heard a lot that people can tell my writing just on paper without my name attached at all. I believe there are ways to train a genAI to create an effect similar to this, but I'm also certain that it would require a technological influence that most people using the main programs out there don't have.

Because there's good AI Art. I'm not afraid to say it. There's AI art that I find super interesting and would pay money to see. Anna Ridler created a piece called "Mosaic Virus" that uses machine learning to generate a morphing video of tulips blooming that changes based on the market value of bitcoin. She created her own dataset. This rules and I love it. 1 the Road is an AI-written novel composed across a massive real-world road-trip by Ross Goodwin, a creative technologist. I won't call him a novelist - but neither would he. He did strap a surveillance camera on the car he drove, rigged it with a microphone and GPS, and put a shit ton of effort into something I will say sounds abstract and pretty rad.

The AI artists I think that don't really struggle to sell and exhibit and overall collect accolades for their work, from what I've seen, tend to be people who put a ton of effort into the structure of the AI itself. The artists who create from existing programs are limited by what that program is trained off of, unless they alter or edit their work after the fact.

And I know people who do the latter. My own view on how valid of a choice that is depends on the intent of the work, the meaning behind having the foundation be generated, and how you choose to credit it once it's done. In a lot of cases I just sort of tend to wonder why people think they need the machine to start at all.

I get it's hard to start making an individual piece. It's even harder to start making art at all, especially if you were taught to think somehow that you aren't a "naturally creative person". If that's you then I'm sorry, because that means you somehow internalized a pretty terrible lie.

We're a creative species. Just because it doesn't fit within the deeply narrow spectrum of Marketable, Blockbuster, Bestseller Creativity, doesn't mean it isn't worthwhile.

You can only draw stick figures? Great maybe you should give one of them a hat and then he'll be a Hat Guy. You can't even draw a straight line? Sick, sounds like these are going to be some Wiggly Stick Figures and at least one of them will have a hat. That rules.

You don't know what to write? What if a guy bought a new hat? What if the hat was cursed? What if the guy was Naruto? I don't know man I've taken a lot of cough syrup today and most of my suggestions are hat-based, I'm finding.

People might give you shit. They might give "constructive criticism" - a phrase I learned quickly that people online use very loosely. And that can be scary and discouraging. I'm not going to try and say you should do it anyway because it's the Ethically Right thing to do because I have seen the way some people treat newer artists and it made me so fucking grateful I didn't share really anything I did online until I was pretty settled in my own personal vibe.

But if you use genAI because you think it does something you can't otherwise do - you can do things too. And it might be worth trying sometimes, even if you never share it. You might think it's bad - but if you don't treat that like a failure of your character it doesn't feel as important.

Might I offer as example - my son, Fart Ass Trash Link?

My child. My legacy. My wife insisted that sometimes Link would go fully nude. I understand now that they were fucking with me.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Leopards Are Telling You That They Will Eat YOUR Face

By Paul Krugman

Opinion Columnist

Do you know this widely cited meme, introduced in a 2015 tweet?

“I never thought leopards would eat MY face,” sobs woman who voted for the Leopards Eating People’s Faces Party.

It’s hard to explain why this is perfect, but it is. If Donald Trump wins, there will eventually be a lot of sobbing among people who voted for him.

Some of this will involve the frightening reality of authoritarianism; if you think you’ll be unaffected by a second Trump presidency because you aren’t undocumented or Puerto Rican or a Democratic politician, I encourage you to reassess. But I’ll get to that next week. Today I want to talk about more prosaic economic issues.

Many analysts have pointed out that Trump’s proposed tariffs would hurt most Americans, with only high-income individuals gaining enough from his tax cuts to make up the difference. Trump, of course, insists that taxes on imports — which are, essentially, a sales tax — won’t hurt American consumers. But, as The Washington Post reports, corporations are already getting ready to raise prices.

The inflationary impact of tariffs will, however, probably be only the beginning of the pain for millions of Americans if Trump wins. Over the past few days, two people who will very likely have a lot of policy influence if Republicans prevail have let the leopard out of the bag on what else we should expect from a Trump administration.

Perhaps most notably, Elon Musk — who Trump promises to appoint as the head of a government efficiency commission — says he could cut “at least $2 trillion” in federal spending, around 30 percent of the budget, declaring that it would be relatively easy given the amount of government waste, although he recently acknowledged that doing so “necessarily involves some temporary hardship.”

Those remarks alone tell you two things. First, that Musk doesn’t understand federal spending. Second, a new Trump administration would probably inflict a lot of hardship on millions of Americans, and it’s unlikely that it would be temporary.

Does the government waste money? Of course it does; so does every large organization — do you believe that every dollar Tesla disburses is well spent? But anyone asserting that waste accounts for a large fraction of federal spending really has no idea what the government does.

The federal government is best thought of as an insurance company with an army. Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, military spending, plus veterans’ benefits and interest payments on the debt account for about three-quarters of overall spending. Much of the rest involves essential functions of government, from operating the courts to providing air traffic control.

So any attempt at spending reductions on the scale Musk is talking about would necessarily involve savage cuts in programs millions of people depend on. Trump has said that he won’t cut Social Security or Medicare, but his tax proposals would undermine their finances, and he conspicuously hasn’t exempted Medicaid, which covers around 70 million people.

Musk-style spending cuts, then, would almost certainly result in hardship for many Americans.

Meanwhile, House Speaker Mike Johnson is promising “massive reform” of the Affordable Care Act — “no Obamacare,” he declared. We don’t need to speculate about what that would mean. In 2017, Trump and his congressional allies almost passed a health care “reform” that the Congressional Budget Office estimated would have increased, by 2026, the number of Americans without health insurance by 23 million; those losing coverage would disproportionately be Americans with preexisting conditions, who need insurance most.

Many potential Trump voters are probably unaware of what’s in store and imagine that Trump would just snap his fingers and “fix” what he insists is a terrible economy. The reality, however, is that America’s economic performance under the Biden-Harris administration has been very good, especially compared with that of other countries. We’ve grown much faster than any other major wealthy nation, and we’ve substantially outperformed projections, both those made before Covid-19 struck and those made at the beginning of the Biden administration.

This achievement, says The Wall Street Journal, is “remarkable”; The Economist calls it “glorious.” Neither is what you’d call a left-wing rag.

It’s true that we had a burst of inflation in 2021 and 2022. But that was a global phenomenon; other nations had similar bursts. Furthermore, inflation has come way down, and although many remain upset, understandably, about the higher level of prices, most workers, especially the lowest paid, have seen wages outpace inflation since the start of the pandemic.

By the way: When Ronald Reagan’s re-election campaign proclaimed “It’s morning again in America,” both unemployment and inflation were substantially higher than they are now.

Would Trump do even better than Biden? Or better than Kamala Harris? There’s an unusual consensus among economists that Trump would preside over a worse economy, especially higher inflation, than Harris.

If he wins, many Trump voters are likely to experience buyer’s remorse.

Will they express their disappointment at the ballot box in 2028? They will if they can. But that assumes a free and fair election. Trump has given us plenty of reason to believe that if he wins, 2024 may be the last time America has anything resembling that.

[blackraged]

MORTAL KOMBAT 1 Thoughts Pt2.

[❌❌contains SPOILERS❌❌]

Continuation from yesterday

Chapter 6

They keep switching between Bromance and Romance for Kenshi and Johnny. Which one is it now???

I adore Johnny being protective of Kenshi, and Kenshi holding onto him while walking.

The way reptile switched from human to lizard, makes it look like he is not actually shape shifting, merely casting an Illusion to seem human.

Nitara is hot and all, love the design, but....who thought it was a great idea to have Megan Fox voice her? No shade but the voice acting is pretty awful.

Kenshi trying to run in with Sento but is pushed back in a comedical way by Ermac SENT ME. I felt so bad but I couldn't stop laughing.

Sento activating in this fight was pretty cool, I will not lie.

Not Jerrod shouting out for Sindel😭😭

Chapter 7

I wonder why Liu Kang didn't get fully rid of Krusty Kronika. Just because he is playing god now doesn't mean she's any harmless. But also wasn't Kronika fully destroyed?

Lesbians

Johnny and Kung Lao trying to knock out Quan Chi in the middle of the street while dressed up in those carneval suits was a sight for sore eyes.

NOT THE SIDE KICK PREDICTIONS WITH REPTILE AND KENSHI LITERALLY FLYING IN PLSSS

This entire chapter is full of comedic bits, and I'm here for it. We need more stuff like this.

Chapter 8

I like the implication that some things are inevitable, no matter how you think you shaped things differently.

I enjoy Geras and Liu Kang s friendship a lot.

So Liu didn't intend for Kronika to be alive in this timeline after all.

"Father" Is smoke now Bi-Han and Kuais brother??Was he adopted adopted??

Aight but am I the only one who thinks Smoke looks like Elon Musk? Like, for real,, it's freaking me out.

I know Smoke is voiced by Yuri Lowenthal but I keep hearing Troy Baker.

That manipulative parallel from when Shang Tsung was a Merchant still was very clever

Chapter 9

Okay crazy theory, but what if Kronika isn't Kronika, but Alt Shang Tsung in disguise???

Why am I not surprised by the betrayal. Still having hopes that Bi-Han is just bluffing to save Kuai.

Kuai being out for blood is really entertaining. That melting sword scene was so damn cool too.

Scorpion being affected and literally burned by heat somehow doesn't make sense to me. Especially with Subzero seemingly not being harmed by frost and ice. Also Havik recovered from that melt off really fcking fast. Bowing down to you, king.

Bi-Han literally showing up from behind the cold wind was such an amazing entrance. I was even jumpscared a little.

5bucks that new course is the Shirai Ryu

Chapter 10

If the second timeline the ending to aftermath where Shang Tsung won?? If so, that is the coolest decision NRS has ever made so far.

Li Mei is so pretty. I adore her so much.

Have y'all noticed how weird the run animation in this game is. It's so awkward and looks half-assed.

Mileena is such a good fighter but I hate how much she is being babied. I know it's because of Tarkat, but it's kinda silly.

Lesbians

I am very amazed with the character design improvement in this game. I thought MK11 was already damn pretty, but MK1 really put the icing on top. There are so many fine details in the environment and outfits, I am eating this up like desert.

Will hopefully finish the rest of the game tomorrow though! Last and Final thoughts coming in soon!

[biglewysgmail]

Elon musk was actually right when he said women as a class can't think objectively and logically like men can, because we as a class live under terrorism, so we spend our lives pandering to everyone bc we are so terrified of being socially ostracized or men beating us up bc they're physically stronger.

You see this in everything women do and say, even in the 4b. Compare the way women speak and interact with other people with how men do. Women spend all their time pandering , and other women come and police them for not pandering correctly. It's really fucking weak. I really hate that this is reality but it is indeed reality. When I first saw Musk say that I was so offended and thought thats not true at all, but when I really look at how women behave compared to how men behave....yeah. womens' biggest concern 24/7 is pandering, and policing other women. Meanwhile men encourage other men, joke with them, and are generally unafraid.

Even 4b, while a good idea of actually executed and has the potential to really help us achieve freedom, is just women policing other women. And it's the *way* women do it that's so ridiculous. Even when women have good points, they ruin the message by focusing on policing other women and tearing down other women.

There's a reason you don't see men policing other men like that, lol. Men focus on strategy and don't shoot themselves in the foot by policing other men in circles constantly. Thats how ironically, men move more cohesively. It's a damn shame.

Radfems are the closest I've seen to a collection of women who don't do this as much...but still, theres soooo much ridiculous policing over petty dumb shit. Worrying about who other women are fucking. Writing other women off over who they're fucking or something they say you don't agree with. I get it to an extent, but like...i feel like there's a reason men don't do this petty stuff with other men. And it results in better outcomes for them. Maybe it's mostly due to socialization, but...the theory that it's bc women are physically weaker and therefore live in fear socially , makes sense... Women act like they need to stay in the social circle correctly at all costs and police other women or theyll die.

There's another male theory that this policing behavior women exhibit is how women show dominance towards other women. Women also have this approval seeking thing where they need the approval of other women to do something, which is weird. That specifically, I've never understood. But I never understood the policing thing either. I'm sure thats just bc of my Asperger's (retardation) tho.

What gets me the most about all this tho, is how women think these behaviors somehow make them look good??? Like that's the fascinating thing. I'm socially slow, and even I can see the mocking , condescending laughs of men when women do these things in front of them. I can see the expression on mens faces that say "wow women are stupid" whenever women do these things. Why can't other women see it? Weird. They seem to think it makes them look good to men tho, which is why I've noticed women increase the policing thing when men are around especially. They'll do it more loudly and aggressively in front of men, for some reason. As tho they think it's appealing? Meanwhile the men are very obviously getting second hand embarrassment over how stupid women look doing it. But Ive noticed in front of men women do the policing thing AT me, like very direct and aggressive (in like, a feminine -type style of aggressive) as if they are ascertaining dominance over me to send the message to the men in earshot that they are the alpha woman and I'm the beta woman lol. That's exactly what it feels like. Took me forever to realize this, I mean I could see the second hand embarrassment of the moids, and wonder why the woman was suddenly being feminine-style-aggressive, but I couldn't figure out what social dynamic was occuring. Because of , u know, the autism shit. Now I get it lol. But it's VERY fascinating to me that I can see this, but 90% of women don't seem to see this. And I know it's not bc I'm intelligent or perceptive, bc I'm literally retarded. It's shit like this that makes me realize....despite women caring so much more about social acceptance, women are actually really not any better at social skills than men are, and autism rates in women are definitely just as high. If not higher.

[not-poignant]

Hi hi :D Hope you are having a good day!

I was rereading UtB and I got to chap 24 and there was this part:

"‘Jesus,’ Dr Gary said."

And at first I was like 'huuuhuuhu I wonder if Jesus is an omega, beta, or alspha in the Underline-verse'

But then I was like 'gaaaasp, what if he was a peak alpha!' And I started thinking about the influence of peak alphas on things like religion, as religious figures. I know they're very rare, but I also remember Augus saying that it should be illegal for Ash to be a lawyer as a peak alpha. So then I started thinking about how would peak alphas would impact religion. Or cults! Or royalty! Or politics! Or just the course of history in general! Maybe they would stay the fuck away from it, or maybe they would crave having that control? I spent a very enjoyable hour daydreaming about it, which felt a bit like splashing around in the paddling pool of someone elses worldbuilding, which was maybe a bit rude lol, sorry if it was. And maybe Gary saying 'jesus' was just a throwaway expletive, and you didn't even mean much by it, but I was wondering about your thoughts! <<33

Hi anon!

This is something I've thought of. It's hilarious to me to low-key imagine Jesus in this world as an omega, though I haven't invested too much thought into it because I don't really care much for religion in general.

But generally speaking I liked the conflict of omegas being treated as second-class citizens and how that gets justified against Jesus being an omega etc. And then I was like 'I don't care about this enough to keep thinking about it, it's just amusing to me.' And that's about where I'm at. Enough to be sacrilegious and not enough to have fleshed it out further because I'm very idc about that stuff.

So then I started thinking about how would peak alphas would impact religion. Or cults! Or royalty! Or politics! Or just the course of history in general! Maybe they would stay the fuck away from it, or maybe they would crave having that control?

Oh no they totally crave that control. A tiny percentage of the world's population is peak alphas but they're overwhelmingly likely to be found in positions of power.

Tbh this is... intentional. I was trying to think of how to account for the absolute fucking monsters that end up as all-powerful billionaires in the world. Utter twats like Elon Musk, who you just know are too pathological to have hold of that much money, and yet no one on the planet is holding him (or the Zuck etc.) accountable.

And to me it gave me some comfort in my omegaverse, to imagine these asshats as being peak alphas. People who attain their power not because the governments have no regulations to stop them (which they should), but because they just have too much ardolphogen influence / power for anyone to stop them from getting this powerful.

And just like it's a huge issue in our world, it's a huge issue in this world too. The millionaires but especially the billionaires in this world are likely to be peak alphas. Generally speaking it's frowned upon for them to become Presidents and Prime Ministers, but they are found in other levels of court and parliament, as royalty, etc. They're less likely to make cults and more likely to go into business where they can control a lot of people at once.

It is a huge, huge issue. And it was planned for as part of the dystopia in advance.

Peak alphas crave controlling communities, not individuals. With the exception of Augus, the peak alphas we meet all have significant control over large amounts of people, whether it's Crielle and Fenwy Laboratories, or Temsen and Gary and Hillview, etc.

They don't need intimate relationships or love, because they form a bond to a much larger group. Historically that would have worked for small micro-communities - one person drawn to controlling and looking after the community while alphas were drawn to omegas. But in a globalised society and runaway exploitation re: billionaires, it's just become completely dystopian and it's partly how you end up with a world that favours alphas so much in the first place.

[darkmaga-returns]

By Allan J. Feifer

President Trump’s Wild Bunch returning to power signals not just a change in leadership but a focus on substance over style. 

If we use his first-term performance as a gauge to measure what to expect in his second term, we can see that there are fundamental differences this time.  

Let’s start with the first thing that will change—strategy.  

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you can already see the structural changes from first term Trump vs. today: fast, out-of-the-block, decisive picks that imply loyalty to a cause, not just to Trump personally. 

Take Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy, who are co-running the Department of Government Efficiency. They don’t need the power trip or the money. They are just loyal to the essential Trump priority of gaining control of the federal bureaucracy and living within our means.  

Trump promises to fix:

•    An out-of-control budget process that delivers continuing resolutions instead of actual budgets •    An inconsistent foreign policy frequently at odds with well-thought-out national priorities •    The lone superpower on earth swatting gnats while ignoring vital geopolitical issues •    An inability to discipline our decision-making process and make long-term measurable progress at home and abroad. •    A complete failure of messaging, domestically and away, paints us as feckless, unsophisticated, and unreliable.

A disciplined political process has evaded us for a generation.  Like cancer, that lack of discipline spreads to the entire body.  If Trump can accomplish a single thing, accountability within our government that encompasses fiscal, operational, and logical goals, everything else will tend to fall into place.  

[thebiggerbear]

coming in 2025 cont'd 4:

Untitled One Shot Preview:

After the interlude with Lester, Crowley decided to give Dean one more chance. One thing that the Mark seemed to crave was blood; that they both already knew. But the other thing that Dean seemed to be on the hunt for almost as much as the next fight was the intimate company of a woman, any woman, even if only for a few hours. The violence and the sex seemed to keep the Mark appeased. It didn’t change Dean’s attitude but it did seem to keep him balanced — as balanced as a demon could be Crowley supposed.

So when he heard the next demon deal report, he immediately came up with an idea that might sate Dean, one way or the other, and kill two bird with one big bloody stone. 

When Dean walked into the bar after getting into a fist fight with some meathead down the block, that smug smirk slowly settled onto his features. “And here I thought you were done with me. That I was just some fling.”

“We’ll never truly be done with one another, Dean. Not really.”

Dean snorted and shook his head, slapping the bar top to get the bartender’s attention. “Okay, Nicholas Sparks.” He gave the man a nod and within moments, two shots of whiskey were in front of him. Much to Crowley’s amazement, the bartender didn’t seem to react to the blood on Dean’s hands or spotting the left side of his face. If he hadn’t already known this was the rough part of town they were in, that would have solidified it for him right there.

“So what do you want, Crowley?” Dean looked as if he could care less and ordered two more shots after downing the first two. 

“What I want,” Crowley began as he sidled up to the former hunter. “Is for us to put this bad blood behind us.” When Dean didn’t respond to that he added, “I’m willing to overlook the Lester incident.”

Dean’s angry eyes snapped to him, his jaw tight as he glared. 

“I see now that sending you to close up that particular deal was incredibly…presumptuous of me.”

Dean huffed out an impatient scoff and threw back a shot.

Crowley watched him intently. “As it so happens, I have another job for you.”

Dean’s shark-like smile appeared and he grabbed the second shot. “I don’t work for you.”

Crowley could feel his patience being tempered. Sometimes dealing with Dean when he was like this was like dealing with a rebellious smarmy little shit of a teenager. He kept himself from rolling his eyes and leaned in closer. “No, you don’t. But this is right up your alley. Particularly the Mark’s alley.”

Dean glanced over at him. “I’m not killing any innocent women.”

“Killing? No. No, this would be the farthest thing from that.” He watched as the hunter’s brows furrowed slightly and he knew he only had a small window of opportunity so he needed to talk fast. “I admit, this request was a bit unusual but we’ve gotten stranger deals before. You would be surprised at what people are willing to exchange their soul for these days. A gig on one of the Real Housewives shows, becoming President again, Taylor Swift concert tickets, the new iPhone, even for Elon Musk to eventually go bankrupt.” At Dean’s look, Crowley shrugged. “Let’s just say there’s a reason why he now calls Twitter ‘X’. It’s a done deal, won’t take long.” Dean shrugged and went back to his whiskey that the bartender silently slid to him. “If it sweetens the pot any, you were asked for specifically.”

Dean turned slightly to face him, his eyes a shade darker than they had been a moment before, an indication that the Mark was listening and very much interested as well as the body that bore it. “What’s the job?” 

And just like that, Crowley knew he had him. This time, the shark-like smile was sitting on the King of Hell’s face.

"You're safe now, I'm here." Preview:

When you arrived at your destination, some dive bar not too far from the Minnesota state line, you knew the place was one level above a rat-infested roach motel, barely. There was no way Dean would have come here. As low as his standards might be sometimes, he still had them. Not to mention there was no sign of his ever being there. One frustrating conversation with the skeezy-looking bartender later, you determined this had been a bust. You shot a text message to Sam, letting him know you had struck out. Disappointed, you considered having a beer before trying to find a decent-looking motel in these parts to crash for a few hours, but you wouldn’t even dare sit on one of the bar stools. Hell, you wouldn’t even stand in this place for more than the twenty minutes you’d already been there.

You had just made your way out to the parking lot, intent on finding that bed for the night, when something hit you upside the head and you collapsed to the ground. Everything had gone black until you came to in some shitty looking cabin, tied to a chair, and saw two creepy looking men grinning wickedly down at you. A small sliver of fear sparked through you when you realized they were human, the very worst type of monster in your book. The fact that they hadn’t gagged you told you they weren’t concerned about any screams being heard which meant they had taken you to a remote location where no one was around to hear anything. So you were definitely in a jam but a fiery determination overtook the fear when you remembered you were a hunter, and you had dealt with some of the worst monsters on the planet, demons included. Hell, you’d even had a brush with Lucifer himself at one point; you could take these two asshats.

“There she is,” the taller man of the two practically purred. He leaned in, taking a big inhale, and gave you a shark-like smile. “Real pretty.” 

You screwed up your face in disgust and tried to shift your body a little but you were tied tightly, with your arms behind you — the worst way to be tied up. Had your arms been tied to the chair, you could have possibly rocked the chair until it fell over, breaking, or perhaps leaned forward to bite at the rope, trying to loosen it or gnaw at it. But no, you were nearly hog-tied from the waist up. Another sign that these two knew what they were doing and you hoped like hell that you could get free. 

You had texted Sam to let him know Dean wasn’t in these parts like had been rumored. If he texted you back and got no response, would he know something went wrong? Even if he did, would he even be able to make it in time? He had traveled in the opposite direction as you; there was definitely no way he’d make it if he knew. 

The man who’d sniffed at you straightened up, his eyes roaming over you hungrily. The other man who was shorter and had longer greasy-looking hair was studying you just as intently. “When do we get to the fun part, Jim?” He asked.

“Easy, Roscoe. We’ll get there.” Jim smirked down at you. “I want to savor this one.”

You gritted your teeth and kept attempting to move your body but to no avail. 

“Don’t bother trying to fight against the ropes, honey,” Jim’s deep smooth voice rumbled before he turned towards a table you hadn’t initially seen. “They’re nice and tight. You won’t be getting loose.” You watched him pick up a machete and study it before placing it back down, only to pick up a crossbow. “Not until we’re ready for you to run.”

Oh, you dared them to let you free, especially in the vicinity of weapons. These sick fucks planned to hunt you down, did they? You were going to make them regret that decision, in spades.

“So that’s your big plan?” You scoffed out in a laugh. “Have me run so you can hunt me? Wow, that’s original. Einsteins you are not.”

Roscoe stepped forward and slapped you, hard. The coppery taste of blood was in your mouth and you noticed that it was coming from your bottom lip.

“Roscoe,” Jim admonished. Roscoe turned to look at him with a frown. Jim gave him a shake of his head. Roscoe’s jaw tightened but he stepped away from you all the same.

“So is this your MO? Wait for some girl at that dive bar to walk out to her car and then ambush her? Hit her from behind? Tie her up while she’s unconscious? What two big strong men you are,” you spit at them in disgust. You knew you shouldn’t risk riling them up because they could do something worse to you before they ever planned to loosen the ropes, or they might not loosen them at all, but you hated these bastards with your very being. There was no telling how many girls they had done this to now; there was no way you were their first.

Jim slowly approached you, twirling a blade in his hand. He gripped your chin and you tried to yank your head away, but he tightened his grip. “Honey, you can say whatever you want but it’s going to end the same way as all the others have. So scream, cry, beg, call us whatever names you want, because at the end, none of it is going to save you.” He ran his thumb along your lips that you kept sealed tightly as you glared up at him. “You are are pretty. Roscoe and I are going to have some fun with you before we get to the main event, and me…” He leaned in, inches above your mouth as he peered into your eyes. “I like ‘em feisty. The squirming never stops.” He let out a dark chuckle and you could hear Roscoe snickering as well.

“What do you see in him?” “Everything you don’t.” Preview:

You and Alisha watched as the buxom blonde who had been focused on Dean Winchester all night smiled and leaned in, whispering something to his ear. You saw Dean’s face light up and his smirk spread across his handsome face as she pulled back, him saying something in reply that had her nodding her pretty little head. You felt an all-too familiar pain flare to life in your chest. The same pain that had started burning the minute Dean had set his eyes on the woman and proceeded to dial up the flirt, on a hunt of a whole other kind.

Alisha practically gagged as she watched the woman take Dean’s hand and slowly lead him out of the bar, giving him a seductive smile over her shoulder. “I don’t get it. What do you even see in that guy?”

You stared down into your beer. “Everything you don’t,” you mumbled.

“Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” Part 2 Preview:

You took a couple of slow steps up the driveway, stopping when DJ’s head snapped up. He spun around and locked eyes with you, his widening in disbelief. “Mom?”

You gave him a smile, your eyes welling with tears. “Hi, honey.”

A silver blade was suddenly in his hand, his body tensed up. “What are you?” He asked through gritted teeth.

You held up your hands in reassurance. “It’s me, DJ.” You saw his jaw tighten at the nickname he hated. “I promise. It’s really me.” 

“No, my mom’s been dead for a while now and she didn’t look like that! Not since I was a kid!” He started advancing on you. “So if you don’t tell me what the hell you are then I swear to God I—” 

Dean suddenly appeared in front of you, taking your hand in his and forcing your son to come to a stop. “Hey! Take it easy. She’s your mom, okay? She’s not a ghost or a skinwalker or a ghoul or anything like that. She’s the real deal. She’ll pass all the tests.”

The younger Dean stared at the older Dean, dumbfounded. “I’ve seen pictures of you. You’re…” His eyes flickered over to you. You gave him a nod and he looked back over at Dean. “You’re my…”

Dean gave your son a smile. “Hey, kid.”

“But…how did you… I don’t understand. Am I dreaming?”

You took a half a step forward. “No, honey, you’re not dreaming.”

DJ looked completely perplexed. “But both of you are dead. If you’re not ghosts or something else, then how—”

“We were sent back,” you explained. “By Jack.”

“Jack as in…?”

“Yeah.” You saw your son’s eyes light up with a glimmer of hope at the idea. It broke your heart, but you forced yourself to focus on the moment. You were here, Dean was here, and father would finally get to know son. Not to mention the huge battle still ahead of you. You wiped a tear away with your free hand that had somehow escaped down your cheek. “There’s a lot to talk about but for right now, we’re back.” 

DJ still seemed unsure but he lowered the blade.

Untitled One Shot Preview:

You knocked on Dean’s room door and when you heard a gruff “Yeah?” you opened it up. Dean was standing near his bed, his eyes widening a fraction of an inch when he saw you. In that moment, you could see everything he was feeling flicker across his face: the sadness, the anger at himself, the shame, the worry — the worry overshadowed them all. 

“Hey,” you offered, throwing him a figurative lifeline to be kind. Though that was the last thing you felt like doing right then.

“Hey.”

You held up the duffel of his things that you had confiscated from his room back at The Black Spur and then tossed it onto the bed. “I grabbed what I could find. Should be everything.”

Remorse filled his green eyes. It was definitely a refreshing sight compared to the cold black ones you’d been witness to the past two days, and you never wanted to see the empty jade you’d seen ever again. “Thanks.”

You nodded and slipped your hands into the back pockets of your jeans, thinking of how to say what you wanted to, but coming up empty. Eventually, you decided that perhaps it was best that you left certain things unsaid. As you turned to leave, Dean took a careful step forward.

“Y/N, I…”

You swung your gaze back to meet his, waiting.

He compulsively swallowed and briefly hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Me, too.” When his brows began furrowing in confusion, you elaborated. “I thought we had something that was going good, for the both of us.”

Worry lined his expression once more and he took another tentative step forward. “We did — we do.”

You dropped your gaze to the duffel bag. “Doesn’t seem like it.” You licked your lips and let out a sigh. “I love you, Dean.” You didn’t need to look up to know how those three words affected him; you’d seen it often enough during your relationship. Each time he would get this deer-in-the-headlights look as if he couldn’t believe you would actually love him, that anyone would. “And I want to forgive, but…I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

Like a coward, you kept your eyes on the ground as you turned and walked out of the room, unable to see the pain and devastation you had surely just caused the one person you never wanted to hurt.

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You and the Winchesters were sitting in the Dean Cave, watching a movie. Dean picked one night out of the week and deemed it Movie Night which included snacks, beer, and him usually being the one to pick the movie. If it wasn’t The Lost Boys, then it was Tombstone — the latter which you were currently watching. You tended to prefer this one though the actual history of the Earp brothers and the OK Corral seemed to have been muddled a bit for entertainment’s sake. You remembered Wyatt all too well during your appearances on Earth from time to time and you hadn’t been too impressed back then either.

The scene of the final confrontation with Johnny Ringo began and you could see Dean leaning forward slightly, a gleeful focus on his face which made you smile a little at the clear enjoyment he was experiencing. No matter how many times he saw this movie, he always seemed to watch it with as much excitement as if he were watching it for the first time. It was endearing.

“Well, I didn’t think you had it in you.” 

“I’m your huckleberry.”

As Doc Holliday lifted his head to reveal his identity, you frowned. “I don’t understand that phrase, Dean.” It was always something that had puzzled you. Granted, you hadn’t spent much time down here during the Wild West era, but you had never heard anyone going around uttering this phrase, especially in this context. Perhaps it was a pop culture thing of the times.

Dean paused the movie and turned to look at you. “What?”

“‘I’m your huckleberry.’ What does a small fruit have to do with battle?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sam turn his head away from you both, trying to hide a smile. Dean appeared unsure of how to answer you.

“Well, I think it just means something like ‘I’m your guy.’”

“Then why doesn’t he say that?”

“Say what?”

“I’m your guy? Instead of saying ‘I’m your huckleberry’ then why doesn’t he say what he means?”

Dean exchanged a look with Sam before turning back to you. “I don’t really know, Y/N/N. Perhaps the line wouldn’t have been as legendary in pop culture.” You noticed Sam rolling his eyes and then you saw a salacious smirk start to spread across Dean’s face. “You know, if you’re having trouble understanding the movie, why don’t you come and sit with me? I’ll answer any questions you have.” Sam was frowning at his brother now.

You glanced at the recliner Dean was in. “But, Dean, that seat can only hold one person at a time.”

“I know, just like this,” He gestured to his lap. “Is only made for one person at a time. Well, mostly. But it’s open so how about it?” He patted the space invitingly. 

“Dean,” Sam warned.

“Shut up, Sammy. So, Y/N/N, you gonna come sit with me or what?”

Your brows furrowed, still unsure of how you both would fit in that chair comfortably, but Dean seemed determined for you to join him. You got to your feet and slowly made your way over.

Untitled Prompt Response (Fic Request) Preview:

“Does this seem normal to you? The way it’s bleeding?”

You glanced up from the book you had been perusing on powerful rituals to ward off the undead and your brows furrowed as you studied the small surface slice in Dean’s hand, seeing the beads of blood dotting the line. 

“How did that happen?” You murmured.

“Chef’s knife slipped in the sink while I was doing the dishes.”

Judging by the clean pathway of the cut, you would think otherwise but you kept your thoughts to yourself. Instead, you gently held his hand aloft with one of yours and suspended your other hand over the cut. You ignored the quick inhale of Dean’s breath when your skin made contact with his and focused on healing the wound. Regardless of how it came about, you didn’t like seeing any of Dean’s blood outside of him.

You both watched as the wound closed itself up under the golden glow of your hand. You were satisfied when the blood disappeared and everything appeared as it should have been when it came to Dean Winchester’s hand. You let him go and met his gaze, his green eyes full of awe and something else you’d seen there as of late. Though you often puzzled over it, you still had not been able to figure it out. Humans were complicated; their emotions even more so.

He quietly cleared his throat and flexed his hand. “Thanks.”

You gave him a nod and then went back to your reading. You heard him hesitate before walking away. You smiled to yourself when you heard Sam say to Dean in the hallway, “Are you serious, Dean? Did you just—”

“Shut up,” Dean mumbled, before continuing towards the kitchen. 

You shook your head and turned to the next page.

Untitled One Shot Preview:

You both stare at one another and after a moment, Dean starts to ask you something when there’s a knock on the door, signaling the five minute warning. He appears disappointed and much to your surprise, you are too. You blush as you get to your feet, his hands flashing out to help you. 

“I, um…I’m sorry. I didn’t know that I… Can I do anything to help?”

Dean quickly glances around before setting his eyes back on you, almost as if he’s reluctant to keep them away from you for too long. “No, I’ve got it. I, uh…didn’t mind, ya know.”

You feel your face getting hotter but you bite into your lip to keep your embarrassed smile at bay. “You didn’t?”

He gives a small shake of his head and staring into the green gaze glued to yours, you can tell he really means it.

You let out a nervous chuckle and grab at your clothes. “Thanks.” You quietly clear your throat one more time and hastily redress. Dean moves away, having decided to give you a minute, and moves towards the sink in the corner of the room. As he washes his hands, you hear him ask, “So, how long are you in town for?”

As you’re finishing slipping your shoes on, your brows begin to furrow. How did he know that? “What gave it away?”

He dries his hands and gives you a shrug. “The business attire. Plus, there’s a convention happening this week.”

Relief flows through you that your cover hasn’t been blown. “Oh, uh, maybe another day or two.”

His green eyes light up and you can see the delight there clear as day, tinged with what looks like a tiny amount of hope. Uh oh. “Well, if you decide you need a break from all the handshaking and Corporate America crap, I’ll be here. Just ask for me.” Suddenly, the confidence seems to go out of him in a heartbeat, surprising you. “You know, if you want.”

A part of you wishes you could tell him the truth, about why you’re really here, but you know you can’t. So instead, you respond with, “Thanks but I think this was kind of a one time deal for me.”

Dean smiles in understanding but you can see right through it — he’s disappointed. And strangely enough, so are you. He walks over and hesitantly reaches out to do up the last two out of three buttons on your blouse. He seems as if he wants to say something but holds back, possibly unsure if he should. You don’t know what it is about this man or the way he looks at you in a way that almost begs you to save him — save him from what you can’t even begin to imagine — but you cover his hands with yours and lift up, tenderly pressing your lips against his.

There’s a moment there where he doesn’t return the kiss and seems hesitant to move at all, but as you were about to pull away, thinking you made a mistake, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him. His mouth move against yours more insistently and when you feel his tongue gently seeking entrance past your lips, you grant it to him. He groans and cups your face, delving deeply into you, and it takes everything you have to keep yourself upright. 

Soon enough, that doesn’t seem to matter when he picks you up and moves you towards the table. You happily surrender your strength and hold onto him as tightly as you dare. There is a line here that you were never supposed to cross but truth be told, you leaped past it long ago and you haven’t looked back since. Because there is no going back. You moan when his hips fit in between your thighs and you can feel him up against you. Definitely no going back — not that you want to right now…not ever actually.

Your hands encourage his hips to start up a slow rocking motion and each time you feel him, it’s all you can do not to lock your ankles behind him, keeping him there within your reach. When he breaks away for air, you notice his eyes are dark again like they were earlier but this time, you can see his control is about to snap. Something you would definitely like to push him past right now and see what happens. Fuck it, you haven’t just crossed a line; you’ve crossed a whole goddamn stadium of lines. If you’re already going to hell, you might as well enjoy the ride down.

“Are you sure?” He breaths harshly against your mouth when he feels you tugging at his belt.

“Yes.” You have your hand inside his pants within seconds, gripping him. You swallow up the air he expels along with the deep groan from his chest. His fingers greedily grab at you but you both get interrupted by another more insistent knock, forcing you both to break apart and glance towards the door. Time is up.

Dean drops his head to your shoulder. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. You should be grateful for the person on the other side of the door. They just kept you from making a huge mistake, bigger than the ones you’ve already made in the last hour. You withdraw your hand from him and when he lifts up to stare into your eyes, you give him a thin-lipped smile.

Untitled Prompt Response Preview:

You held onto Dean’s hand as you both perused the aisles. You both and Sam had split up the list of supplies you needed to bring back to the Bunker. Normally, you two weren’t so PDA but you had a feeling that Dean needed a little extra love today, especially since he was the one to take your hand and intertwine your fingers, pulling you away with him. You managed to give Sam a meaningful look before he did that Dean thankfully didn’t catch. Sam gave you a nod and headed off in search of his half of the list. 

You grabbed the chips Jack liked and tossed them into the basket Dean was carrying. He appeared to be deep in thought and your brows drew together. “Dean, are you okay?”

His eyes snapped over to you. “Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

You released his hand and framed his face with your hands, staring worriedly up at him. “Something on your mind, baby?”

His gaze dropped down to the ground for a second. “No, uh, I mean…” He looked back up at you and he licked his lips, seeming torn about something. “I guess I was just wondering if you—”

“Found it,” Sam interrupted, forcing you both to look over at him. The younger Winchester was giving you both a wide smile. “That sauce you like, Y/N, it was the last bottle they had but I got it!”

You gave him a warm smile. “You’re the best, Sam.” You turned back to Dean. “Now, what were you saying, baby?”

Dean glanced back and forth between you and his brother. “Nothing,” he muttered, gently lowering your hands from his face, making you frown. “Nothing.” He turned and headed down another aisle, not looking back to see if either of you were following. You and Sam exchanged a worried glance and you hurried after Dean. 

He had stopped to grab some ground beef from the meat section and you hugged him from behind. “I love you, Dean,” you murmured to the back of his jacket but you knew he had heard you when he squeezed your hands. It worried you a little when he didn’t say it back like he usually did.

Untitled Mini Series Preview:

“You’re right,” Dean agreed, his eyes not meeting yours and shame filling in his expression. “I guess I’m not being totally fair.”

You cupped his cheek and urged him to look up at you. “That’s not what I said.” You brushed your thumb tenderly over his stubbled skin. “Just give her some time,” you gently urged. “She’ll come around once she has more time to process all that’s happened.”

His green gaze softened and he gave you a hint of an affectionate smile before turning to press a kiss into your palm, cradling your hand in both of his. The action drew your sight to the area where it had sat not that long ago. You could feel an all-too familiar rage coursing through you. 

Dean noticed your intent gaze on his right forearm and he immediately reached out his other hand to place his fingers under your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. “It’s gone,” he murmured reassuringly. 

You could see the bluish-white glow of your eyes reflected in his and you tried to rein yourself in though you were failing miserably. It had been hard enough to see the struggle Dean had gone through bearing it and wielding the First Blade, the darkness corrupting his beautiful soul right before your very eyes, sacrificing himself for the greater good once more, not allowing any of you to help shoulder that burden. It had been agonizing to see him eventually turn into a demon, the very abomination you had fought and destroyed for millennia. But it had been absolutely devastating to watch what happened after Dean had sliced through Death in that restaurant. 

The thought of that mark, that brand, on his skin infuriated you, as did the connection it represented. You were an angel; you didn’t get jealous. At least you hadn’t before your short stint as a human. But this wasn’t jealousy of another more powerful entity being interested in the human you were currently copulating with. It was pure fury that this entity had made a claim on Dean Winchester’s soul and forged a connection that the man could never rid himself of. One you could never remove no matter how powerful you might be. Even if you had been an archangel or even Chuck himself. Yet she could break your connection to the man you cared deeply for with a simple snap of her fingers if she wanted to, and in the same breath, she could erase you from Dean’s memory as well as this universe. In this situation, you were the ant. It bothered you tremendously that not only had she laid claim to one of the most beautiful souls ever to exist, but there was nothing you could do about it. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t protect him or save him from God’s sister should it come down to that. 

Dean had assured you that this was a connection he didn’t want, something you knew to be true not only because you could feel it but also because it was something you’d heard him tell you when he’d unknowingly confessed his true feelings on the matter to Lucifer who had possessed you at that time. But you hadn’t missed the way his eyes softened when they trained on Amara when she was in the room or the tension in his jaw when you and Sam had talked about how to destroy her. You also noticed when he didn’t meet your eyes when he refused to name who had shown up as his heart’s desire during that one case. You even saw how he pulled away from your reassuring touch later that night, something he usually didn’t do unless he felt ashamed for one reason or another. And now, Amara had brought back the one thing Dean had wanted since he was four years old. So, yes, right now it was more difficult than normal to douse the flames of fury within you.

Dean released you and gently moved your hand to his shoulder — your shoulder. “This isn’t,” he whispered, covering your fingers with his. “And it never will be.”

The light in your eyes faded as the fire died, only to be replaced with an overwhelming sadness. “You don’t know that.”

He pressed his hand further into yours, splaying your fingers out along his skin, lining them up as they had been once upon a time. You could feel your handprint there even though it could no longer be seen by the naked human eye. It surprised you that Dean knew exactly where to align your hand without having that visual guide but it also made you smile slightly. Of course he would know where to place your hand; he still felt it, too. 

His eyes met yours once again, serious and determined. “I do.” His tone left no room for arguments or doubts.

You could feel a familiar stinging sensation at the corners of your eyes and your smile lengthened into a grateful one. You leaned up and gently gripped his face with both hands, bringing him to you in a gentle kiss. He slowly laid you back down with him following, him rearranging the sheets around you both before affirming your connection to one another once more.

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“I need you.”

That was the text message that sent you speeding down the highway, trying to get back to Lebanon as fast as possible. Dean never sent you messages like that so you knew things had gotten worse since you left to help a friend on a hunt. One phone call to Sam confirmed that yes, things were much worse since your departure. 

You had been in Grand Forks, North Dakota, just wrapping up a Djinn case when you got the text out of the blue. Your jaw had dropped upon reading it and you immediately stepped away to call Dean. He hadn’t picked up, making your concern skyrocket, but Sam had when you tried him next. He told you everything — from the situation with Claire and Cas to the current one with Metatron. You disagreed with him on the massacre angle of what had happened with the men who tried to take Claire and attack Dean but agreed that it put the man at even more risk with the Mark. 

Needless to say, you made your apologies to Julie, the hunter you had been assisting, and you hauled ass back to Kansas. An almost ten hour drive was about to be made in seven. Thankfully, luck seemed to be on your side; you hadn’t come across any cops on the highway. Dean still hadn’t called you back or picked up the many times you tried him, but you had sent him a text: “I’m on my way.” You just hoped that he not only understood what you spelled out in the message but also everything you hadn’t. He just had to hold on, you would be there soon, and everything was going to be okay. 

You’d told him when he was no longer a demon that you would do everything you could to keep the Mark from taking him over again, that you would continue fighting for him with everything you had. His eyes had softened at your passionate vow and he had pulled you into an embrace, hugging you tightly as his head burrowed into your neck.

You heaved an aggravated sigh when Dean didn’t pick up for the umpteenth time you tried to call him from the road and you were just about to hang up when the line suddenly connected. 

“Hey.”

Your eyes widened slightly. Dean’s voice was rougher than normal, tired even, but you could still detect trace amounts of tenderness weaved into it. Just from that one word, you knew Sam was right: things were much worse. “Hey,” you greeted back, doing your best to keep the worry from your tone. “There you are. I’ve been trying to call you.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I meant to call you back. It’s just, we’ve been dealing with Metatron. Sam thought we might have a shot and we had a limited time frame since he was on loan.”

“That’s okay,” you softly assured him. You knew exactly what happened with the dick Scribe and how he had goaded Dean into almost losing control. You were glad Cas had returned him to his jailers in Heaven because if he had still been around when you got there and there was an angel blade within reach, you would have done much, much worse to him than the eldest Winchester had. “I’m about thirty minutes out from the Bunker. I’ll be there before you know it,” you murmured soothingly.

“Actually, I’m on my way out right now.” 

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “Where are you going? I thought—”

“I won’t be gone long. I’m, uh, doing this meetup with Claire. Cas asked me to reach out to her to talk. So we’re going to have a quick sit down.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly. “Claire? The girl who wasn’t returning your calls until…”

“I see Sam’s got you up to speed,” he muttered. You didn’t bother saying anything to that; you weren’t going to apologize for getting the scoop from Sam when Dean hadn’t responded to any missed calls until now. “Look, she called me last night to set up a time and place to meet. I’m headed there now. Shouldn’t be long. And then I’ll be seeing you,” he ended, a softer touch applied to his tone.

Something wasn’t sitting right with you about this. According to Sam, Dean had brutally slain everyone in that living room (well deserved in your opinion) and Claire had seen the end result. The teenage girl had run out on Cas again and she wanted nothing to do with any of them, especially Dean. She held him responsible for killing her “family”. She hadn’t taken any of Dean’s calls and ignored the voicemails he’d left until last night. Something definitely didn’t smell right. “Where are you meeting her?”

“That RV park about fifteen minutes from here.” The sound of him clearing his throat came down the line. “Look, I’m going to get this done and hurry back, okay? I really wanna see you.”

You couldn’t help but let a small smile slip onto your face. “I know. I want to see you, too.”

“Won’t be long. I’ll call you when I’m on my way back.”

“Okay. Be safe and good luck. If you need backup, call me.”

You could hear him chuckling. “If you were closer, I might just take you up on that.”

You had been serious but you played along. “Teenage girls don’t scare me.”

“Well, they scare the hell out of me. Especially this one. She’s…had it rough.”

“I’m sure she has.” Your instincts were practically screaming at you.

“Yeah. Alright, sweetheart, let me go take care of this. I’ll see you right after.”

“You got it. Talk soon,” you swiftly agreed. 

When the line disconnected, you pressed down on the gas pedal, flattening it to the floor. “You’re going to see me a lot sooner than you think, Dean,” you muttered as you flew down the highway.

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Cas sat at the table in the library, doing his best to focus on the book in his hands. He tried to ignore the sounds his super hearing was picking up on and let them fade into the background. It was something he’d always done whenever Dean had brought back company at one of the various motels they’d stayed at. Most of the time he had either tuned into Angel radio to check on the status of Heaven and the other angels in order to drown out the other noise, or he’d vacate the vicinity altogether until the next morning. Now, while it still bothered him slightly to hear the human he felt this great love for take pleasure in someone else, he had pretty much accepted that his relationship with Dean would never expand into that area, no matter which form he took. Dean just didn’t view him that way and he made it pretty clear that while he loved Cas, he wasn’t in love with the angel. And the love he felt was more of a brother and best friend, family even. At first, it deeply hurt, but Cas had always known that he would take whatever he could of the hunter who’d made him feel things on a scale he never had in all of the years of his existence. He hadn’t lost Dean, like he feared he would once he returned and the two would have to talk about that moment before The Empty took him. He still had as much of Dean as he did before he was taken, which is to say not much. Oh sure, they had grown closer over the years, bonded like family as Dean had said, and even co-parented Jack together with Sam, but Cas never really had him. And the angel supposed the same could be said for him when it came to Dean. Though now, Dean could have what he wanted and much more, if only he wanted it. Which, sadly, he didn’t. He wanted his best friend and his family back, but nothing else.

Things were awkward between them and Cas could see Dean trying his hardest not to make certain jokes about Cas staring at him like he had before and he’d actually tried to be more considerate now that he was aware of the angel’s feelings. But once they began hunting and working together again, they fell into a familiar routine and most of that tension and uncertainty all but melted away. Cas was actually okay with how things were. He had never expected that Dean would feel for him what he did for the hunter and he was alright that things had gone back to the status quo. It didn’t change his feelings or the intensity of them but he was there for Dean however Dean needed him. And he was content with that as was Dean.

Until you showed up that is. Cas knew right away the moment he saw Dean’s eyes light up when he talked about you and his gaze lingering on you as you talked to Sam about a case. It wasn’t a leering gaze, though he could sense Dean’s attraction to you from a mile away, but a warm one. His physical attraction grew the more time you spent with the brothers and pretty soon, Cas could sense Dean’s longing for you as well. You weren’t just some hunter the elder Winchester wanted to have some fun with. He actually began to form a bond with you, one where he started to trust you and craved an emotional connection with you. It wasn’t long before he had you sat down in his Man Cave watching all of his favorite movies with him, both of you laughing in similar places, having epic popcorn battles (which he always seemed to lose and that confused Cas because he knew what a formidable opponent Dean was in battle), and eventually snuggling together on the couch. A friendship had formed that soon grew into something else, as Cas and Sam found out one night by coming home from a hunt earlier than expected.

When both of them walked into the kitchen, they found Dean standing there, a sheepish grin on his face, stark naked. Thankfully, the steel counter covering his lower half kept certain things from being seen that might scar Sam for life but Cas could hear certain sounds as well as your heartbeat that let him know that Dean wasn’t alone.

“Uh, hey fellas. You’re back early,” Dean rushed out breathlessly.

Cas’ eyes detected a thin layer of sweat on Dean’s skin and a familiar scent was surrounding the man. 

“Uh, yeah,” Sam answered, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “I guess you’re…”

“Well, I’m not baking cookies if that’s what you’re—” Dean suddenly reacted to something that made him let out a nervous laugh as he bent forward slightly, digging his fingers into the counter. “Kind of,” he forced out, his voice slightly higher than before.

Sam looked thoroughly grossed out, his nose scrunched up in disgust. Cas half expected that at any moment, Sam would give his brother a hard time about indulging in such activities where they cooked and ate their food.

A faint pop was heard from below by Cas and within seconds, Dean’s body relaxed and your eyes lifted above the counter line, staring at both men across from you. You got to your feet and gave them a smirk. Your hair was messy and you were wearing a flannel of Dean’s that was hanging off of your frame, enough to cover anything that shouldn’t be seen by polite company. “Hi boys,” you greeted them, looking very much like a cat that had eaten a canary as you leaned into Dean, hanging onto his arm. “How was the hunt?”

Though Sam had been repulsed by what he and Cas had walked in on, he now shot a pleasantly surprised look over at his brother who gave him a smug smirk. Sam smiled to himself and nodded. “Successful,” he answered.

“Mmm,” you slipped a hand behind you that neither of them could see and Dean tensed up again, his eyes darkening a bit. “Here, too.” You turned to give Dean a seductive smile and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you further up against him. 

Sam nearly laughed watching the two of you. “Ah yeah, we can see that.” The younger Winchester caught Cas’ attention and inclined his head towards the door.

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You leaned against the door, unable to keep from smiling as you watched Dean walking around the nursery with your infant and quietly humming “Smoke On the Water”. He gently patted the baby’s back and continued moving in a swaying motion. You tiredly rested your head against the doorframe, beyond grateful for the image you were seeing. You never thought you would see the day that Dean Winchester would willingly get up for a nighttime feeding but here he was, right in front of you, rocking your recently fed child back to sleep.

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“You’re not supposed to be here,” you muttered. 

Jensen’s brows furrowed slightly as he chuckled. “What?”

You realized you had actually just said that out loud. Great. “Nothing.” You quietly cleared your throat. “Sorry. I meant I thought you said you weren’t going to make it.”

“Uh huh. I got done earlier than expected and decided to join you. I hope that’s okay.” He stared at you meaningfully. 

While the girls all around the table told him of course it was, his eyes never left you. “Of course,” you forced out. “The more the merrier.”

He graced you with a smile and turned back to the table.

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You groaned loudly when your phone began to ring on the nightstand next to you. On the third you slowly opened an eye and turned to see who was waking you out of a very sound sleep. You let out a louder groan when you saw the name and the time and rubbed at your bleary eyes.

You let it ring a couple of more times as you stared up at your dark ceiling, debating on whether to answer or not. If you didn't answer, there was a good chance you would be getting a lengthy voice-mail, a barrage of text messages, or worse — more calls until you picked up. Or it could actually be an emergency this time. Would you be able to live with yourself if it was and you'd let it go to voicemail, choosing to go back to sleep instead?

You thought it over for one more ring before grabbing for the phone. No, no you couldn't. 

You swiped green and immediately held the device up to your ear. “Hello?” You gruffed out. You winced at your gravelly tone and quietly cleared your throat. 

“Whoa,” a familiar voice answered. “‘You okay?”

You laid your head back down and shut your eyes. “You know what I sound like when I first wake up.”

“Oh shit,” was let out in a sudden slur. “Did I wake you?”

You nearly rolled your eyes. Great. He was drunk. Again. “It's almost 3 in the morning, Jensen.”

“Fuck, I'm sorry.” If he wasn't the bane of your existence right now, you probably would have smiled at his casual dropping of the F bomb. Not that he didn't curse, but recently he had gotten it into his head that you were a lady (where he'd gotten that sudden notion, you had no idea) and he was making a concerted effort to be “more respectful” around you. Something about how he was raised or something or like that. You didn't understand it but it seemed important to him, so you went with it. Which meant you didn't change a thing or clean up your language at all. Hey, you never said you were a lady; you almost laughed at the thought of his glare when you'd said that to him. But now that he had been drinking, all of that was forgotten and his tongue was loosened. Like it usually did when this happened lately.

“It's okay,” you attempted to reassure him.

“No. No, it's not. I'm gonna let you go back to sleep. I'll call you tomorrow.”

Immediately, you knew something was bothering him. Something in the way he spoke those polite words perked your ears up and had your eyes opening. “No. Hey. Jensen. What's wrong?”

Silence met you and you quickly glanced at the phone to make sure he hadn't hung up. He hadn't.

“Talk to me,” you gently urged.

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You quickly glanced up from your seat on the couch to see Jensen enter the room. You immediately clicked the TV off but from the wide-eyed expression on his face, you hadn’t been fast enough.

He stood there, frozen, envelopes in his hand that he had just retrieved, gaping at the now black television screen. “What are you watching?”

“Uh, nothing, nothing.” You tossed the remote over your head, thankful when you didn’t hear a clatter or crashing sound, and gave him a nervous smile. Jensen may hate the rug back there but you loved it; this just proved you had been right to insist on the placement of the furnishing. “I was just reading.” You lifted the open book in your lap, briefly flashing him the title, before using your thumb as a temporary bookmark. You then cleared your throat and nodded your head towards the envelopes. “Anything good?”

Jensen’s eyes flickered between your forced smile and the television before settling back on you. “Nope.” He continued his trek towards you and tossed the mail onto the coffee table as he took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa. “Why were you just watching that?”

You pretended to go back to your book, not willing to meet his penetrative gaze. “I told you, I wasn’t watching anything. You know I like to put on some relaxing music in the background sometimes when I read.”

“That wasn’t music.”

You involuntarily winced and lifted the book higher, forcing yourself to focus on the bold text in front of you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He covered the top of the book with his hand and gently pushed it down until you were forced to look at him. “Y/N, seriously, why were you watching that?”

You blew out a heavy breath in defeat, knowing the jig was up. He had been in a Zoom call with his team for the last hour and you hadn’t expected to see him surface anytime soon. So you figured a little perusing of the topic you were reading up on might not hurt. But, truthfully, you had been so engrossed in the video you had found, you hadn’t heard him coming down the stairs or approaching the living room. And now, you had been caught; it was time to come clean.

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The tour guide finished running off the list of possible spirits in the place and when she turned her back to move further down the hall, Jensen’s smile dropped and he directed an annoyed look in your direction.

“I can’t believe you’ve got me doing this crap,” he muttered.

“I can’t believe you volunteered to come here to do said crap and now you’re complaining about it,” you shot back as you warily glanced into open rooms as you passed them by. You hoped like hell you wouldn’t see anything; you had joked about packing an extra pair of pants but you actually hadn’t brought any.

“You mean when you volunteered me?”

You scoffed and turned to look at him. “Okay, that’s a bunch of bullcrap if I ever heard it. For the record, I asked Danneel to go, not you. But when it conflicted with her schedule because of that OTH reunion thing she has this weekend, you immediately said, and I quote ‘Fine, I’ll go’ and pulled a grumpy Dean face while saying it. You even rearranged your schedule to be here tonight, I might add, even though I told you that wasn’t necessary.” You shone your flashlight into another room, thankful when it turned up empty. 

“Was I just supposed to let you go alone? Knowing you, you’d tumble down a flight of stairs without adult supervision.”

You shot him a look before continuing to walk ahead. “I wouldn’t have been alone. I was going to ask Rob to go with me.” No, not that Rob. The other Rob who you had been seeing the past eight months.

Now he was the one giving you a look.

more i want better for you...what's better for you than me?:

It was very rare that you and Jensen slept apart under the same roof when he was home. Occasionally, due to an argument, you would grab a pillow and plod your way down to the guest room, angry enough that you didn’t want to be laying next to him or upset enough that you didn’t want him seeing or hearing you cry. But that usually didn’t last the night, because either he would be unable to sleep and seek you out, crawling into bed with you and whispering an apology as he buried his nose into the back of your neck, or you would be the one to do that. You were a big believer in not going to bed angry but you were both human so sometimes it happened, but very rarely did you spend the night apart. 

You had even stopped him from taking the guest room on the nights he arrived home late after traveling from a set or coming back from a con. After one such night, when you woke up to no sign of him anywhere until you checked the guest room to find him snoring away, the argument at breakfast had been one of your worst yet as a married couple. Not because of volume or any nastiness, but because you couldn’t hold back the tears that time. Even when he tried to explain that in previous relationships he had adopted the practice to be a more considerate partner, you still couldn’t stop crying. 

Jensen’s hand covered yours as you sniffled. “Honey, listen to me. I got back around 2am. I was just trying not to wake you. That’s all it was. It wasn’t about anything else, I swear.”

You had confessed the myriad of thoughts running rampant in your head at that moment you’d found him sleeping separately from you after you’d spent weeks apart due to filming — every single fear but by far the worst one was the point you were going to drive home right now. You framed his face with your hands and stared into those green eyes you loved. “Every single time you come home, I want you in our bed. I don’t care if you wake me. I want to know you’re safe, dammit!”

His eyes widened slightly in surprise but then realization dawned on his features.”Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” 

More tears rolled down your cheeks and his gaze saddened seeing them. “I want to know that you made it home safely. I don’t care what time it is. When I woke up and didn’t see you, didn’t even see your bags, I thought…” You shook your head, sniffling once more. “Please don’t do that again. I appreciate the consideration and selfless intention behind it, I really do, but I love you and I need to know you’re safe. Okay?”

He nodded and pulled you over into his lap, pressing a lingering kiss to your brow, your cheeks, and then your lips. “Okay,” he agreed. “I will make sure to drag my suitcase down the hall, bump into the wall a few times, scare the shit out of you, and burst into our room to say ‘Honey, I’m home.’”

You frowned down at him. “Don’t be an asshole and make fun of me. Not with this.”

“I’m not, I promise,” he chuckled, kissing the side of your head before hugging you to him and dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a sigh. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered, making him tighten his embrace.

The next time he came home late, he made sure to go right into your room, sit on the bed, and gently rub your back, murmuring into your ear that he was home safe before kissing your hair. You had turned a grateful smile on him. “Thank you.” He had returned your smile and kissed your nose before telling you to go back to sleep, that he was going to get ready for bed.

Instead, you had turned onto your side to watch him change clothes and then head into the bathroom to take care of his nighttime routine. You chuckled quietly when you heard the tell-tale bangs and noises he made every night when he was home. He must have heard you, though, because he stuck his head out with an arched brow, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. “You’re still awake?” At least that was what you thought you heard him ask you; it was hard to tell with the mouthful of toothpaste he had.

You gave him a little nod in response.

He disappeared for a moment, presumably to spit out the toothpaste, and returned with his toothbrush still in hand. “This seriously doesn’t bother you?” At the shake of your head, he looked stunned. “At all?”

“Have I ever complained before?”

“No, but…”

You gave him a sleepy smile. “You’re home.” Those two words may have been simple but they encapsulated everything for you. He was home, safe, and with you. You knew where he was when you heard those sounds. Perhaps it might have annoyed someone else, or grated on someone after a while, but you never took them for granted. As long as he was here to make those noises, he was here. That’s all that mattered to you.

A slow toothpaste-y smile began to spread on his face and you couldn’t help but laugh at the adorable sight. He vanished again and you could hear the water running as well as a banging noise. A second later, he re-emerged, grinning as he turned the bathroom light off and hurriedly got into bed.

Within seconds, he had you in his arms and was placing kisses to your neck. “You know, since you’re already awake and you don’t mind any sounds, I know of a few other noises we could make.”

“Seriously?” You laughed, feeling him drag his fingernails up your bare thigh.

“Why else would you be wearing this?” He flicked the strap of the silky nightie you wore and playfully wiggled his eyebrows.

You sighed mournfully, playing along, as you watched him remove your hand from his face to place a kiss to your palm. “You know me too well.”

“Damn right I do.” He quickly shed his t-shirt with a cocky smirk and tossed it away from the bed. “And I want to know you, again and again and again.”

“Three times? Some of us have to go into the office early, Casanova,” you teased as he kissed your collarbone. 

“Call in sick,” he murmured to your skin. His fingers were slowly working the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders. His lips followed the trail of one and you ran your hand through his hair, watching him with adoration.

“I don’t think I can,” you whispered.

“You can.” His eyes met yours and he lifted up to look down at you, cupping your cheek. “I really missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“I’m home, baby.”

He leaned down and kissed you for the first time since he’d arrived and it shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone, least of all you, that you did end up taking a sick day the next day and had your assistant reschedule all of your appointments. You intended on showing your husband just how much you had truly missed him.

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“Jenny,” you murmured. “I need to get back to work.”

“Mmm, no you don’t.” She moved her hand a little to the left and you arched your back, letting out a breathy moan. You then felt her lips near your ear. “You’re close. I can feel it. Let go, babe. Let go.”

The blonde increased her speed and you felt your body start to tense up in an all-too familiar way. “Oh fuck,” you gasped. 

She let out a tiny evil laugh and worked her lips from your ear down to your neck, nipping your skin along the way. “You’ve got that right.”

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Hoyt had been there the first time you were invited to one of Beau’s infamous movie nights but once she saw you, she scowled in your direction the entire time, didn’t speak a word to you, turned up the notch on her flirtation with Beau, and never attended again while you were there. It had been so tense you could have cut it with a knife, something you had no doubt the blonde was thinking about doing to you anytime Beau spoke to you or smiled at you, if her glare was anything to go by. Cassie, on the other hand, had been welcoming to you since the two of you met. She definitely sussed you out as you expected her to and you did the same, but once that was past, you both became as thick as thieves. Beau was constantly tag-teamed by you two, the teasing incessant but enjoyable as you saw your friend’s spirits lift and that all-too familiar gleam return to his green eyes. He and Cassie had also become friends when Beau first started with the department and she was good to him. As you got to know her more and more, you had to admit you had a special fondness for the woman and her quirky assistant (though you kept telling Denise to stop cooking for Beau as he had a working kitchen and could cook for himself, which Cassie seconded) and she had more than earned your respect on the job from the few times she and the department worked together. Not to mention that if Beau rode out with Cassie, you felt a hundred times better than you would have if he had ridden out with Hoyt. You knew Beau would be safely returning home that night. You almost wished Cassie would work with the Sheriff’s Department every single day. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Kai didn’t go down easy, even when Denise promised to bake a special batch of her cookies that he could have tomorrow when he woke up.”

Your smile widened and you got to your feet. “No problem. Wait, Denise bakes, too? How am I missing out?”

“Because you are not the sexy lawman from Texas who she adores and whose waistline hasn’t budged an inch despite all of her delicious home cooking,” Beau supplied as he stepped out of the Airstream, three beer bottles in hand. 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you took your proffered beer. “I’m pretty sure you told me that you’ve had to go without a belt the past two days but sure, not an inch.” Beau’s immediate glare made you snicker.

“Y/N’s right. Your clothes have been looking a little…snug lately,” Cassie teased. “Must be those pumpkin enchiladas you keep asking for.”

Beau’s expression softened slightly when he approached Cassie, holding out a beer for her to take. “I will have you know that I fit just fine into the clothes I came up here with.”

You knew he was wearing clothes that he had bought since living here, but you kept your mouth shut when you noticed Cassie’s bright smile grow a little as her eyes intently focused on Beau, followed by his murmur of, “Hey, Cass.”

You glanced back and forth between them for a moment before quietly clearing your throat and bursting that bubble they were in. “So, the sexy lawman from Texas over here wants to watch yet another John Cusack romance movie.” You ignored Beau’s playful scowl in your direction and continued, “I told him I would prefer horror myself. So what say you, Dewell? You’re the deciding vote. What are you in the mood for?”

Cassie shrugged. “A John Cusack romance? I could get behind that.”

Beau’s answering smile was immediate. “Yeah?”

Cassie bit her lip, trying not to grin, and let out a quiet “Yeah.”

You watched as Beau’s stance relaxed and he tipped his bottle to Cassie’s. “John Cusack it is. You’re outvoted, Y/L/N, just like I knew you would be. Nice try, though.”

But you couldn’t be too bothered at being made to sit through yet another cliche romantic comedy right then. Instead, you focused on your two friends who settled into their familiar banter as Beau began to set up the movie. And instead of the sinking feeling from earlier making a reappearance, a new lighter feeling took its place. You even smiled, watching the two of them, not even minding that you had been reduced to the third wheel for the evening. You knew that Beau had been stuck on Carla for a while after the divorce, which was to be expected, but you did hope for his moving on eventually. And from the looks of things, it didn’t seem like you needed to worry about him as much as you had anymore. 

Well, that was until your best friend went and got shot. The thought made your blood boil once more and your jaw tensed. Not even the sight of Cassie giving Beau a tender hug and the latter settling against the woman, clearly relaxing in her embrace, could chip away at your fury or deter you from the chewing out you had planned for Hoyt. 

The doctor waited patiently for Beau to reassure Cassie as well that he was okay, and only when Cassie sat next to Beau on the bed with her hand gently rubbing his back did the man then begin talking once more. 

He didn’t get too far when a certain blonde practically burst through the door. 

“Beau!”

Hoyt hurried over to the sheriff, practically pushing the doctor out of her way in her frantic rush to get to Beau. Cassie had discreetly moved her hand away and put a little distance between her and Beau, making the latter’s eyes tighten. You practically ground your teeth as you seethed. It was a near damn miracle that you hadn’t grabbed Hoyt by her blonde hair and dragged her as far as you could from your best friend.

“Thank God you’re alright. Pop said you were going to be okay but I just had to come and see for myself. I’m really sorry about what happened. I didn’t see that third guy,” she rushed out in apology.

You clenched your fists. Your suspicion had been all but confirmed; this was Hoyt’s fault.

Beau held up a hand to reassure her but you cut him off before he could speak. “Hoyt,” you ground out. All eyes turned on you, Hoyt’s narrowing as expected. “A word.”

Cassie’s jaw dropped and she glanced between you and the blonde worriedly. “Ah, Y/N, Jenny’s just a little upset. Why don’t I—”

You shook your head, your glare for Jenny alone. “Now,” you practically growled.

Hoyt scowled right back at you and after a moment, she nodded. “Right now,” she agreed.

You gestured for her to go first and she practically stormed out of the room, with you right on her heels. Beau tried to catch your attention. “Y/N…,” he began warningly.

“This doesn’t concern you, Sheriff. Doc,” you snapped out, making the doctor jump slightly. “Finish up what you need to tell him so we can take him home already. I’ll be right back.” You spun around and stepped out of the room, seeing Hoyt waiting for you, not looking intimidated or worried in the least.

“Well?”

You held up a finger and then beckoned her to follow you. She scoffed but did so, following you into an empty patient room you found. You shut the door and made sure to close the blinds after flipping on the light and securing the lock. This conversation was better had behind closed doors. You turned around to find the other woman scowling, her arms crossed in front of her.

“What the hell were you thinking, Hoyt?” You demanded. “You could have gotten him killed!” You could see a slight wince that she tried her best to hide but you had seen it. Good. She deserved to feel some guilt after what her actions caused to happen today.

“I knew you’d blame this on me!” 

“You didn’t see the guy, you said so yourself! Let me guess, you just charged in there without backup and Beau had to run in after you to make sure you didn’t get killed, again!”

Hoyt’s own jaw tensed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, as usual.”

“I don’t?” You got closer, not intending to do so aggressively or intimidatingly, but to make her hear you. “Beau has told me himself how many times you’ve done it. Hell, Cassie has told me about the time you ran into that Ron Pergman guy’s house!” You noticed the fire in her eyes dim slightly at that revelation. “What is it going to take for you to get it through that stubborn head of yours that you don’t just rush into any situation without having proper backup?”

She moved closer. “I have been a cop for a lot of years. I know what I’m doing and you don’t get to question how I do things. You’ve been here for what, a month?”

“What the hell does that matter? That has nothing to do with how reckless you’re being and the lives you’re putting in danger every single time you are, both civilian and law enforcement. I’ve been a cop for a lot of years, too, and when Beau brought me here, he gave me the same amount of authority as you. And while I know that burned your ass, this is exactly why he called me to come up here! Because now I’m temporarily in charge while he’s out, and the first thing I’m doing is putting you on suspension.”

Her eyes widened. “You don’t have the authority to do that!”

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Actually, I do. Effective immediately, you are hereby suspended. I will review your case and get back to you within the week.”

You turned to leave when she stormed right over to you. “You can’t do that!” 

You stared her down. “Watch me.” 

At this point, you should have turned and walked away before anything could turn physical. Thanks to Beau and Cassie (and Denise, Pop, and Madge), you were more than aware of her temper and how quickly it could be set off. And from the look of things, that seemed to be exactly what was about to happen. Her breath had quickened and her chest was rising and falling in rapid succession. You literally were waiting for her to throw the first punch. 

One thing you had to give the woman, she was beautiful. Even this pissed off, up close, she was a sight to behold. Her long blonde hair thrown into a messy ponytail, some wayward strands sticking to her face, her blue eyes full of that familiar stubborn fire, her lips slightly parted to allow her shallow breaths to escape. You silently cursed yourself for noticing these things instead of stoking the furious fire deep within you. 

You forced yourself to double down in order to ensure your proper focus and moved even closer until there was only a few inches between you. “This has been a long time coming, Hoyt, and you know it.”

You waited for the shove or swing that statement would surely provoke, but the last thing you would have ever expected happened instead. “It has,” she murmured and her eyes dropped down to your own lips. Before you could wonder what she meant, before your brain could catch up to what was happening, before you could even react, she launched herself at you, her lips pressed up against yours.

Your brain literally short-circuited and you froze, not fighting her one bit when she pushed you up against a wall. She kept kissing you and you could feel her tongue swipe against your bottom lip but still you didn’t do anything. Jenny Hoyt, the 5’6” blonde spitfire of a pain in your ass since you arrived in Helena, was kissing you as if her life depended on it. Where the hell had this 180 come from?

She must have finally noticed that you weren’t kissing her back, and she broke away, panting harshly, staring up at you in question.

You didn’t say anything and neither did she; you both just stood there, watching one another and catching your breath. You couldn’t form a single thought but that all changed the minute the blonde buried her teeth into her bottom lip followed by a slight blush forming on her cheeks.

That goddamn teeth-biting-the-lip thing again. Your brain may have overloaded and come to a halt before, but now it started up again and it spurred you to do what you did next.

You used your thumb to reach up and work her bottom lip free, making her gasp slightly at the contact. You then spun her around so she was now the one up against the wall and you didn’t give her a chance to react before you were on her, kissing her as passionately as you dared. Remembering the sight of her in that miniskirt that drove you nuts a few weeks ago, you snuck a hand down and lifted her left thigh to come around and rest on your hip. You practically melded yourself against her and only pulled away when the two of you needed air.

“Is this what you really want, Hoyt?” You punctuated your question with a push of your hips into hers, making her gasp loudly. “Or is this just a ploy to keep me from suspending you?”

“Not a—” She gasped again when you nipped near her ear. “Not a ploy,” she rushed out.

You gently trailed your fingertips down her neck towards her cleavage, your eyes following as they did. “You sure?” You purred.

“Yeah,” she panted when your fingers continued their journey, over whatever band t-shirt she was wearing today and down to her belt buckle. You smirked slightly when you finally noticed the name on the shirt. Kiss. How apt.

You let your fingers wander further down and press in once they found their target, making the blonde release a loud breath and rest her head back against the wall, and when you began to move your fingers in an all-too familiar way, increasing the friction through her jeans, she let out a small moan.

Damn, you’d love to hear that again. Again and again. She sure was beautiful, too, when she made pretty little moans like that. You did your best to ignore the new image in your head of her spread out on your bed with that look on her face, making those sounds that you know you could repeatedly get out of her, and forced yourself to focus. You couldn’t afford to get caught up. Not here. Not now.

“You know something, Hoyt.” You abandoned her jeans and instead, leaned in with an arm against a spot on the wall above her head, staring her in the eyes, your smirk getting wider when you noticed her breathing just that bit faster. “You have been a major pain in my ass ever since I got here. Kind of looked like you felt the same way about me. Why the sudden turnaround if not to get something you can use against me and get me out of the department, and your life, for good?”

Her brows began to furrow. “No, that’s not—”

A loud knocking on the door interrupted her and you moved quickly away from her, both of you turning to look. You felt a bit of relief at seeing you had remembered to close the blinds and lock the door. You could have been in some real trouble had you not, and you didn’t even want to think about it.

The knock came again. “Hoyt? L/N? The boss man sent me to come find you. With a first aid kit in case that’s needed. Though seeing as we’re already in a hospital...” You recognized Poppernak’s voice and nearly sighed in relief. Though you tensed up again when you realized had it been him or anyone else from the department that walked in on you, you definitely would be in a heap of trouble. Especially considering you were in charge now.

 You glanced over at Hoyt and she gave you a pleading look which surprised you. 

“Come on, ladies,” Poppernak called again. “Open up. No need to keep duking it out. The sheriff said he wants to get out of here already.”

You smoothed down your clothes and your hair as best as you could, considering the blonde had been running her hands through it while your hands were…elsewhere. You glanced over at her one last time and headed towards the door.

“Wait,” she called, grabbing your hand to stop you.

Your eyes widened and when Poppernak knocked again, entreating with both of you once more to open up, you gestured towards the door. “We’re on a timeclock here. What is it?”

“I… We didn’t finish talking about my suspension.”

So, it had all been a ploy as you suspected. And you fell right into it like the idiot that you were. When would you ever learn? You glared at her and snatched your hand back, making her frown. “Still effective.”

She scoffed. “But we just—”

“Just what?” You challenged.

Poppernak’s knocks were getting impatient as were his pleas through the door. Something fleeted across the blonde’s face too fast for you to determine what it was but you stood your ground. Her jumping you was not going to change your mind about the danger she currently posed to the department. No one else was going to get shot due to her recklessness, not on your watch.

Hoyt ended up surprising you by stepping closer, staring you in the eyes, and not backing down. “Look, I get that you’re pissed at me because of what happened to Beau today. But I did my job, a job I do every single day and I do it well. I am undersheriff of the department and when Beau is not in charge, I am. Not you. So there is no suspension. Is that clear?”

The smirk you wore earlier made a reappearance. It was a shame you two hadn’t met under different circumstances. You had a feeling if you had, you’d be in for a couple of wild nights and that mouth would be put to better uses, like making the sounds she was letting out just a mere two minutes ago. Beau had said she was a little red-assed when he took over for Tubb; you would have been more than willing to make that scenario a reality. The thoughts alone of what you two could have gotten up to in Beau’s office in his absence, something he definitely wouldn’t have thanked you for, were enough to make you consider ignoring Poppernak altogether. But, you still had a job to do, and not one Hoyt’s bullshit could put in jeopardy. Your eyes roved over her quickly. A crying shame. “We’ll see.” You spun on your heel and opened the door before she could retort.

Poppernak glanced between you and Hoyt, scanning for injuries and looking uncertain what to do when he found none. “Uh, it looks like you both are okay. That’s good. The boss said he’s ready to go and he wants you, Y/N, to take him home.” You didn’t bother turning around to see Hoyt’s reaction to that one. Normally, you wouldn’t be surprised at his choosing you but you figured that maybe he would have asked Cassie instead. Today had been a big scare; both you and Cassie had been worried sick the entire drive back. “He asked Cassie to drive you home, Hoyt.” Ah, there it was.

You could practically hear Hoyt rolling her eyes from here. “I don’t need to be driven home, Pop. I have my car. I’ll be fine.” 

Poppernak shrugged. “Sorry, but the boss insists.” 

You couldn’t help but shoot a triumphant smirk behind you at the offended blonde before making your way past the deputy and out into the hall.

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Jenny leaned in closer and whispered, “I think about that night a lot, too.”

Fuck. She meant the night she introduced you to who she referred to as Jenny 2.0. The Jenny who did her best to move on from her grief, who actually was a ton of fun (especially if tequila was involved), and who you could actually get along with. 

Before Beau left, he had made sure to host one last movie night, insisting that you should keep up the tradition in order to help you have an easier time of stepping into his place with both Cassie and Jenny, but especially the latter. He was also loaning his prized camper out to you for the first few months since he planned to stay with Carla and Emily in Houston in the beginning just until he was sure they would be okay. He planned to come back for the camper after the six month mark. 

You’d kept up the movie nights as he’d suggested and you noticed right away that you had an easier time with Cassie than you did Jenny. You tried your best to get along with the blonde but she wasn’t happy that you had taken Beau’s old position or that he’d called you to do so in the first place. In her mind, she was more than capable of stepping in as Sheriff; she’d earned it. You and Beau didn’t disagree but the latter had informed you confidentially that the higher ups still weren’t sold on her. So for now, you were simply filling in until either they could woo Tubbs out of retirement or their opinion changed of Hoyt’s leadership capabilities. Beau had tried to sell them on Jenny but he was shut down before he’d even finished his first sentence.

So that’s where you all were at upon Beau’s departure. Despite having an instant dislike and disregard for you, Jenny funnily enough kept coming to movie nights. She didn’t talk to you too much though you tried to repeatedly engage her, and she let you and Cassie do most of the talking in between movie breaks. But one night that all changed.

Jenny was pissed more than usual because you made a call earlier in the day that she didn’t agree with while you both were working a case. You’d made her pull back when she wanted to run a suspect down, without backup, again. Cassie had uncharacteristically fallen asleep midway through the horror film she’d picked and you had gotten up to use the bathroom. When you exited the small space, Jenny was right there, furious (and even more gorgeous if it was possible) and ready to confront you.

“Hoyt, before you start, I had to do it. Had you run in there without backup, you could’ve gotten hurt or worse. I’m not going to let you put yourself in harm’s way because you think—”

Jenny launched herself at you, pushing her lips to yours, and forcing you back up against the threshold, taking you completely by surprise. You knew she had been drinking but it had only been two beers by your count and you’d seen her drink way more in your time in Helena. You could taste said beer as she slipped her tongue into your mouth. 

Her hands were everywhere, grasping, sliding, trailing, rubbing, and caressing everything in their reach. Your hair had been pulled out of its loose braid and your lipstick was smeared around her lips. She had even worked your coat off of you and ripped open your flannel, sending buttons flying everywhere. She began to work on your belt next when you stopped her, cupping her face and forcing her to meet your eyes. “Are you sure?”

She gasped for air and nodded. “Yeah. Are you?”

You’d wanted her the first moment you saw her. How could you not? She was beyond beautiful and even though she didn’t let you in, you saw how she was with Cassie and Denise, the victims you dealt with as well as their loved ones, not to mention people in town… She was a walking dream; your very own dream girl had been right here in Helena, Montana all along. Fuck were you sure. Instead of answering her, you leaned in and kissed her, letting that be your reply. 

It had been frenzied between you, passionate, and almost damn near primal. You wanted to enjoy every single inch of her and she had wanted the same. Her clothes had gone flying at some point while most of yours stayed on but you were more than okay with that. A goddess was laid out before you, making the most exquisite sounds of pleasure, whimpering at times and begging you for more and harder and faster. You’d fucked her just the way you’d envisioned several times while in the shower or late at night alone in your bed when the urge became too strong. You’d pulled her hair, you’d sealed your front to her back and pistoned your hips into hers, and you’d whispered the dirtiest things into her ear that you’d probably ever said to anyone in your life. You had her against every flat surface you could find and then you moved her to the bed. The camper shook like hell when you went to town on her and somehow through all of the noise, Cassie miraculously slept on. Though your friend had ceased to be a thought in either of your minds as you fucked.

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You had just finished sorting through your mail when you heard a knock on your front door. You glanced at your watch and your eyebrows furrowed as you wondered who would be stopping by this late. You weren’t expecting anyone and you had just gotten home yourself.

You made your way through the living room to the front of the house, glancing through the peephole quickly. Who you saw made your eyes nearly pop out of your head in shock. The last person you expected to ever show up at your door was standing on the other side of it, and not looking well.

You threw it open, your heart beating fast. There could only be one reason why she was here instead of Beau. “What’s wrong?” You rushed out.

Her eyes were wide, looking just as surprised to see you, when you took in more of her appearance. She had some bandaging at her left temple, her eyes were red-rimmed, her mascara was smudged, and her hair was a bit of a mess. Something was definitely wrong and your chest began to tighten.

“Is Beau okay?” You asked worriedly. “Are you?” You gestured to her head.

“Beau’s okay,” she quickly reassured you. “I just…” She sniffled. “Can I come in?”

Relieved to hear that your best friend was alright, you nodded and opened the door wider so she could pass by you. 

She gave you a thin-lipped smile as she did. “Thank you,” she murmured.

From what you could tell, she was moving alright, though carefully. You closed the door and immediately returned to her, your eyes scanning the bandaging. “What happened?”

After glancing around your living room, she dug her teeth into her bottom lip and looked over at you. “Uh, there’s no easy way to say it so I’m just going to say it. My mom was kidnapped by some guys and I was in the way.”

Your eyes widened. “What?” You asked in disbelief. “How did—”

“Pops is already working on it. Beau, too. Cassie’s helping but I—” She lifted a shaking hand to her head.

You carefully approached her. “You should be in the hospital,” you urged, using a softer tone.

“I already was, but I couldn’t stay there,” she sighed. “Beau has officially sidelined me for tonight and Cassie is busy trying to work some leads and track them down. I was going to go home but…” Her eyes teared up again and she compulsively swallowed. “It’s still a crime scene and I have no front door right now.” Your eyebrows furrowed at that but she continued. “I thought about calling Denise but she’s been through enough with the break-in at the office and I…I just didn’t want to be alone.” She sheepishly glanced up at you, waiting for your response.

As if her story of what happened to her tonight hadn’t shocked you enough, that last part definitely shocked the hell out of you. Last you knew, Hoyt wasn’t your biggest fan ever since Beau brought you on board over at the department and she seemed more than happy to keep her distance from you. Now, here she was, literally on your doorstep, looking at you like a wounded puppy (literally), and not wanting to be alone… You tried your best to ignore the light fluttering feeling in your lower abdomen by mentally telling yourself to knock it off. 

Instead, your eyes flickered over her bandage again and you gave her a simple nod. “Don’t blame you.” You picked up the mail from the coffee table that you had been looking at, knowing you needed to keep her mind busy. “I was actually just about to order some takeout and binge the new episodes of Bridgerton, so if you want to join me, you’re more than welcome.”

A small smile formed on her face. “You watch Bridgerton?”

You shrugged. “It’s my Downton Abbey. Don’t judge me.”

She held her hands up in placation. “No judgment here. I actually used to watch Downton Abbey when it was on.”

You stared at her in shock.

“What?”

“Ah, nothing. I just never thought that show would be on any screens of Deputy Jenny Hoyt.”

“That was my show,” she insisted. “That and 90 Day Fiancee.” She saw your expression and held up a playful finger. “Don’t judge me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “No judgment.” You watched as she smiled and sat down on the couch. “I’d offer you a beer or some wine but uh…” You gestured to her head bandage.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Doctor said strictly no alcohol until this heals. I’ll take a little coffee, though, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“You got it.” You hurried into the kitchen, calling back. “Just make yourself comfortable.” While you were in there, you discreetly texted Beau, asking if he needed help with Hoyt’s case. It’s not that you were looking to leave her by herself or even that you wanted to leave really, but by her words, her mother was still missing and she’d been abducted, violently if Hoyt’s head injury was anything to go by. Beau told you they had it and asked you to keep an eye on her, his tone of surprise somehow managing to come through the text. Everyone knew that Hoyt had it in for you and she would never show up on your doorstep. You assured him you would do as he asked and wished him luck, asking him to keep you updated.

“Do you need any help?” Hoyt called.

“No, I’ve got it, but thank you. You just sit there and take it easy, and I won’t answer the APB the hospital put out on you.” You had a sneaking suspicion she had left the ER AMA and considering there was no car of hers outside, she had either gotten a ride or an Uber here. How she got your address, you still weren’t sure about, thinking maybe Pops or Madge gave it to her or she’d somehow gotten it herself (she was a cop after all). But you knew the hospital wouldn’t have let her go just like that, not without someone to drive her home.

Her laugh confirmed it for you and that fluttery feeling from before now happened in your chest at the sound. Why did she have to be so goddamn perfect and so completely out of your reach? Sometimes, you wished you’d stayed in Texas.

You quickly glanced at your reflection in the side of the toaster and you attempted to smooth any out of control wisps of hair. You knew her coming here tonight wasn’t about that, of course, but you didn’t want to look like a total troll either. You hadn’t even had the opportunity to change before she’d dropped by and it had been a long day. You took a deep breath to center yourself, grabbed the coffee you’d made, and made your way back into the living room where the woman who haunted you on a daily basis sat.

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You were out of Pedro before Beau had time to put him in park, rushing to where you saw Cassie in the midst of everything. 

“Cassie!”

She spun around to see you approaching, looking somewhat relieved to see you. “Hey.”

You laid a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? What happened? Where’s Jenny?”

 “Yeah, I’m okay,” she reassured. “Jenny’s okay. Gigi, too.” She glanced behind her and you followed her gaze to see the blonde you had been searching for, talking with an older woman who looked a little like her, next to one of the ambulances. Cassie gave you a kind smile and a nod. You squeezed her shoulder in thanks, hurrying past her. You heard Beau asking from behind you, “Cass, hey, you okay?” but you continued your trek, having only one focus.

You had just made it to your destination when Jenny turned and caught sight of you. Her blue eyes glistened and she gave you a soft smile. You threw your arms around her as soon as you reached her and pulled her into you, your own eyes tearing up when you felt her embrace you back just as tightly.

“Thank God you’re safe,” you whispered to her blonde hair.

“I’m okay,” she reassured but you could hear the slight wobble in her voice. 

You pulled back, cradling her face, wiping away a tear that had fallen with your thumb. You studied her, noting that she looked worse for wear: her mascara was smudged around her eyes indicating that hadn’t been the only tear she had shed, and her hair was a little messy — and yet her beauty wasn’t dimmed in the slightest. She still took your breath away, just like she managed to every single time you’d laid eyes on her since you met her.

“For a minute there, I wasn’t sure we’d make it out,” she whispered out brokenly. Another tear shook loose and made a path down her cheek, her reaching up to discreetly wipe it away but not meeting your gaze. Jenny could be tough and she had a thick skin, two things that were invaluable in her career as a cop, but underneath all of that was a warm and caring woman with a good heart — something you loved about her the more and more you got to know her.

“Hey, look at me,” you murmured. When her eyes met yours, you gave her a hint of a reassuring smile. “You did make it out and you’re here with me, safe.” She took a deep breath and nodded. Your smile lengthened and you leaned forward to press a tender kiss to her forehead.

“Jenny?” You both turned to see the older woman she had been talking to before watching you, eyes slightly wide with curiosity. “Who’s this?”

“Oh,” Jenny stepped out of your embrace but didn’t move away from you, gesturing towards you. “This is Y/N, my partner. We work together in the Sheriff’s office. Y/N, this is my mom, Gigi.”

Your eyes narrowed at the woman across from you and you crossed your arms. Ah, the infamous Gigi. You’d heard all about her from Jenny and then some. Not to mention the little sidebar Beau had given you after the whole UC mission went sideways the same day you had been called back to Santa Fe to testify on a case you had been previously involved in.

“Your partner?” Gigi kept glancing back and forth between the two of you. It was more than obvious what she was really asking. 

Jenny tensed next to you and you felt a pit in your stomach at her reaction, but chose to focus on Gigi instead. “Yep. Now where’s the 30K you stole from her?”

“Y/N,” Jenny hissed, making you turn your glare on her. “Let it be,” she pleaded more softly.

“You and Beau both got your asses handed to you by the State because of what she did.” Not to mention how hurt Jenny had been afterwards, how torn up she’d been finding out her mother had used her again. You remembered her pain, her tears…no way in hell were you letting that go. “Maybe you’re able to forgive and forget, but I’m not doing either.” You then turned back to Gigi. “So, where is it?”

Gigi and Jenny both went to respond when Beau and Cassie appeared, the older woman’s eyes immediately landing on the sheriff. 

“You alright, Jenny?” Beau asked, completely ignoring Gigi.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Jenny gave him a semblance of a reassuring smile.

Beau nodded, taking in the scene before him. “Everything good here?”

“It will be.” You approached Gigi, who tensed, and slapped a pair of cuffs on her before anyone could react, least of all the woman herself. 

“What are you doing?” Jenny snapped, hurrying over to you.

“My job,” you answered, lifting Gigi up by the arm none too gently, not even paying attention to her pained moans or the EMT you’d failed to notice next to her telling you she needed to go to the hospital first. “We’ll take her,” you rushed out before turning to see Jenny’s glare laser focused on you. You both then turned to look at Beau.

He and Cassie glanced back and forth between you for a moment, your eyes burning into Beau’s, and after a moment, he nodded. “I’m sorry, Jenny, but Y/N’s right. We have a warrant out for her arrest. We have to take her into custody. Though,” he shot you a look. “We could do that after she gets checked out at the hospital and she’s cleared by a doctor.”

You gave a dismissive wave of your hand. “Nonsense. Like I told Doogie Howser over there,” you indicated towards the now scowling EMT. “We can give her a ride.” You pulled Gigi forward. “Let’s go.”

Cassie’s eyes flickered worriedly over to Jenny. The blonde’s jaw tightened and her blue gaze had become the equivalent of ice as it settled on you. You wished she wouldn’t be angry with you, especially not after what she’d just been through, but you weren’t lying — you still had a job to do. And you were going to make sure that Gigi understood just how much of a shitstorm she’d left her daughter to wade through when taking the money and running like she did. You let out a small breath, knowing you’d have your own shitstorm to deal with later, and began reading Gigi her rights.

“It’s okay, Jenny Bear,” Gigi assured her daughter, making you nearly grind your teeth as you spoke. “I’ll be okay.”

You moved her along faster, past Beau who gave you a subtle nod as he laid a hand on the small of Cassie’s back to urge her to move away from the scene and closer to him. Beau was on the same page as you as you knew he would be, especially after Avery. You both were doing your jobs but you also were going to protect your own.

The woman in your custody didn’t miss the movement between Beau and Cassie and briefly glanced back at you, scoffing quietly. “So much for the cute sheriff,” Gigi sighed mournfully.

You glared over at her and yanked her forward a little harder in your bid to have Poppernak take her off your hands. Jenny needed you; no matter how pissed she might be at you, that didn’t change the fact that you knew she did. Once you deposited her good-for-nothing grifter mother into the backseat of a cruiser, you fully intended to make your way back to her, her ice cold glares she reserved for you alone be damned.

[rantsofamadam]

Vent Post- Second Spinal Surgery.

For background context before I get into the main topics I want to talk about-

I recently had Spinal Fusion surgery for scoliosis in October. (Where they insert metal rods, screws and graft bones into my spine)

Up until yesterday everything was going smoothly. X-rays looked great, I have been recovering phenomenally, everything was smooth and looking perfect. Until yesterday, my second post-op appointment after surgery.

It’s been weeks since my surgery, and I got updated X-rays. Only to find out- the fusion failed in two places. Two of the screws came loose from the rod. Which is such an anomaly, and the first time my surgeon has ever had this happen to one of his patients.

And it will require another surgery. Another fucking surgery.

Where they will have to open my entire- now healed- wound/scar again, take out the entire bar, take out and replace the two screws that came loose, re-insert it, and stitch me up again. I will spend at least a day in the hospital and it will be a 3 hour surgery.

I just got out of, finished and was healing so well from this one. I was finally letting my wound heal and not ripping it apart. I was just getting used to moving on from surgery, getting used to my new life and body-

And now I have to start over.

And it’s- very disheartening. I feel like I am being overdramatic in my reaction about this, but it is hard, if I’m being honest. Really hard.

I had months to prep for this original surgery, I was doing physical therapy and mentally preparing myself. I know this surgery won’t be nearly as invasive or painful- but- the entire ordeal of anesthesia, pain, medication, nurses and doctors seeing and touching my body, more hospital and doctor visits,

My heart sunk, I felt like I couldn’t breathe when he told me I would have to go through this again. It’s just surgery, I got through it incredibly well- and I have to muster all of that again. With much less preparation time.

At face value it is traumatic. Physically, mentally and emotionally. It is. Right? I don’t know.

I keep brushing it off like it’s not a big deal, but it is. It is a big deal and I feel sick to my stomach with nerves this time.

I braced for death so hard the first time, going through every possible scenario in my head, and the fact my situation is already an anomaly? I- what if this time I become paralyzed? Or don’t wake up?

I could disassociate through the majority of it, not think about it, and now I barely even remember anything at the hospital or the few days at home (also because of the meds but I genuinely intentionally tried to zone out and not think about it- its easier to not be present in moments like that)

Now I just- have to do it again.

I was so excited I survived spinal surgery, I got it, I was healing so well, I was so determined at the time, so glad I got it over with. And here we go again. A second spinal surgery. A second. God damn. Spinal surgery.

I don’t feel as if I have any right to complain. Some people have it so much worse, incredibly worse, spending all the time in the hospital. I don’t have a right to say ‘I’m sick of hospitals’ (although- my dad does have cancer currently and that’s a whole other story with hospitals and the medical system) when so many others have it worse. But then again that’s- how all of life is. Elon Musk is probably complaining he didn’t get the right million dollar statue by the pool that he wanted like-

I think- it’s ok to say, especially in my situation right now- yknow- this sucks. This fucking sucks.

I did such a good job of stifling all my emotions the first time around and would talk logistically about it more than I ever said how I was feeling.

But this?

I teared up when my surgeon said I’d need a correction. And I cried in the car on the way home. Maybe that’s stupid.

It’s just surgery, I’m being overdramatic, this won’t even be as drastic of a change as it was the first time. Just god I thought we were done.

This entire year has been a FUCK ton. I was PRAYING 2024 would go out on a boring note for once and let me actually start my life again. But no. 2024 has been the year of change for me.

A sum up for me of what 2024 has been- My surgery was spontaneously moved from June to October because the hospital got hacked, I became stage manager at my high school and developed a passion, (as in this is what I want to make my major and career) I decided to take a gap year with the moved date of my surgery (so no college for me yet), I turned 18, I graduated high school, I entered poetry and art competitions and placed in both, I broke up with my partner of over a year, every social dynamic changed and flipped on its head completely with the people I knew over the summer, said goodbye to my closest and longest friends as they went to college and goodbye to the group and people I have come accustomed and so close to, went through SEVERAL pre-ops and physical therapy appointments, met, fell in love with, and started dating my current boyfriend, SO much family drama and dynamics, saw a lot of family we don’t usually, found out my dad was diagnosed with cancer, and I had fucking spinal fusion surgery. (one of the most painful and invasive surgeries, period.)

So, yknow. Not a big deal. At all. (This year has been one of the biggest and most eventful years of my life so far, and I haven’t processed nearly any of it to the extent I need to in order to feel present, here and healthy)

I thought with it being December, I was in the clear. Cause cmon, very end of the year what else could possibly happen?

Bam. Another surgery. Sudden/emergency surgery because I’m an anomaly and so fucking lucky to have had this happen to me- after everything, after moving on, letting myself actually heal, walking, beginning on getting my license, an official job, college- nope. All on hold again. Again. Again. Fucking again.

The worst part is- I feel like it’s my fault. I was SO determined to stand and walk as much and as fast as I could after surgery, I was doing all I could on my own, walking, standing, rolling over, trying when I could to pick things off the ground- pushing myself to sit through events or go places even if it hurt. My therapist told me to take better care of myself for myself’s sake. But all I cared about was proving I was strong and could do this- and getting back to ‘normal’ as fast as possible. Not having to think about the surgery, essentially ignoring it, and moving on so fast. Everyone was extremely impressed. My therapist wanted me to slow down, listen to my body and actually take resting time to heal. I didn’t really listen.

And now there are two screws loose, my surgeon has no idea how this could have happened, I’m the first patient of his who’s ever had this happen to me. But typically these surgeries are on kids younger than 18, and/or athletes and restless kids who are much more active than I am. I blame myself for ruining it, definitely. My friends tell me it wasn’t my fault, the first thing my surgeon said when he broke this news to me was- it isn’t my fault. But it’s so hard to believe that when it’s my body, this surgeons a professional, clearly I fucked up.

And now my fucking up doesn’t just affect me- it affects my story, the surgeons and doctors work, my parents, costs- ugh. My recklessness and carelessness for myself and my recovery led to this- fuck.

My therapist said ‘this is your SPINE. If you rush this, it could be really harmful in the long term. YOUR spine.’ I have an appointment with her tomorrow. I am dreading telling her this news. I feel like I failed her.

But the entire point is- I failed myself. yes other people are and will be affected but IM the one who has to go through it again. I fucked up- and it’s hurting myself. And I would say ‘I can handle it, it’s really not a big deal, I just feel worse for everyone around me.’ And yes I can handle it- I hate it. I really hate it.

I also have a skin picking condition where I compulsively pick at my surgery scar. It’s gotten better in the last few weeks, it’s generally healed, but

I don’t know I feel like I’m being overdramatic but God- I rarely talk about or show emotions like this, genuinely letting myself cry or be fucking angry about something pertaining to me like this. But man I’m just tired and can’t- handle this right now.

I know I will. I know I’ll be able to and I’ll handle this as well as I ever possibly could.

I already did this, how hard could a second surgery be, right? Yeah. Fuck. I called my boyfriend crying when I got home, he’s- the biggest cheerleader.

He’s going to try to be there again but his work is pretty serious and might not let him take the time off. Augh. Fuck.

I’ll be ok. Just the main thing on my mind recently. I have an official date for this second surgery now- December 27th. After Christmas. And I have a Pre-Op tomorrow already.

Another surgery. Next. Week. Fuck.