#I just really really need people to know about this shit

[a-whole-lot-of-things]

holyshitholyshitHolyShit this is Beautiful the art is impeccable the story is portrayed so we'll Especially with how many panels there are holy shit

punished by love

[chaoticwriting]

YOU ARE MARRIED??!!

-Wayne Manor, Gotham-

Cass is not having a good time. From the Arkham breakout last week all the way to losing a bet with his siblings on who is going to attend the gala with Bruce. And now this annoying lady kept asking her about her preference in men or something. And Bruce can't help her since he is being occupied by those rich assholes about investment or stuff.

Vicky: So, Miss Wayne. Is it true that you have a secret boyfriend?

Cass: No.

Vicky: Then how about that pict-

Cass: I'm already married.

Vicky blue screened as Cass finished her sentence. Cass takes the chance and slips away from her before she starts barraging her with questions. Revealing that she is married may not be the smartest thing she has done but she is very annoyed at people who keep asking her about her secret significant other. If they want to ask, at least use the proper term.

Just as Cass reaches the hallway, she is scooped up by two strong arms and is carried away to the Batcave. Cass looks to her side to see Dick and Jason both holding one of her arms each and looking very pissed. Well, Dick looks very pissed. Jason looks like he is having fun. Cass doesn't struggle and just lets her brothers carry her to the Batcave to have the talk.

They put Cass on the couch and proceed to guard the exit of the cave on the off chance that she decides to escape. Not that she would because she and her husband have been thinking of breaking the news to their respective family for awhile now.

She waited for a few hours while playing on her phone. Her main phone. Not the one she used to contact her husband since this family has a lot of competent hackers. She knows that being married is like a big deal. But she doesn't expect it to be such a big deal.

When she says everyone is here, she means everyone. From all his close family all the way to Selina (Bruce's fiancee), Roy (Jason's boyfriend), Kori (Dick's wife), Kon (Tim's boyfriend), Jon (Damian's bff) and even Harley and Ivy is here. She is also pretty sure that Clark is listening from somewhere but it's not like she is trying to keep it a secret anymore, so the more people there are the less she needs to explain.

Harper: So what are we here again? I would rather be home to polish my new gun than in this cave.

Dick: Since everyone is here, I would like to apologize for calling all of you in such short notice.

A murmur ranging from 'it's fine' all the way to 'I want to sleep' sounded in the room.

Dick: Anyway, let's get to the main topic shall we. For starters, I would like to say that none of us wishes to control who you dated nor who you choose to be your partner.

Some more murmurs sounded in the room.

Dick: HOWEVER! We would really appreciate it if you wish to marry someone, at least notify one of us since being married is a big deal.

More murmurs sounded as all of them have a rough idea on what the topic going to be.

Dick: So, the person in question, would you like to explain yourself?

A spotlight lights up on top of Cass, directing all the people's attention to her. She doesn't even know there is a spotlight installed in the cave.Cass stands up and looks at the crowd. She replies, "No."

Everyone is stunned by her reply. They expect many types of replies but no is certainly not one of them.

Tim: Fuck you mean no?

Alfred: I would prefer this conversation to remain civil and proper please master Timothy. I would also like to express my extreme displeasure at the fact that I am not notified by your marriage Mistress Cassandra.

Cass goes still at Alfred's sentence. Okay, shit is really serious. As much as she loves messing with them, she would rather not have her food burnt on the inside. (No one knows how Alfred manages to do that.)

Cass: Ehem, I'm just messing with you. It is a long story but to make it short, my husband and I met when we were in Hong Kong. We met after he got roped in one of the gangs that I was busting. After we met and a little misunderstanding, he helped me to dismantle the underground drug labs across Hong Kong.

Tim: So he is also a vigilante?

Cass: Ex-vigilante. He has a daughter now so he is taking care of her.

Dick: You get pregnant?!! How? When?

Cass: I did not get pregnant. But she is technically my daughter.

Jason: Like how Lian is with me?

Cass: No. Biological daughter.

Kon: Umm, guys. I think Bruce needs to rest a little. His heart has been beating a little too fast for even him.

Dick and and Tim are closest to Bruce realizing that Bruce's face has been impossibly pale for quite a while now. They take him to an empty couch and let him lay there and rest for a while. Everyone's reactions range from amused to straight up concerned that Bruce's career as Batman might get cut short today.

It takes a while but as soon as Bruce is fine, they continue another round of questions and answers.

Bruce: How long have you been married?

Cass: Next week is our 3rd anniversary.

Duke: Wait. Didn't you plan to go to Hong Kong for some time next week? You even ask me to cover your patrol because you say you need to go somewhere.

Cass: I don't lie. I missed last year's anniversary since there was an Arkham breakout at the time.

Duke: Dude, still not cool. You are going on a date with your husband while I need to spend hours running on top of buildings around Gotham. So not fair.

Jason: Was the present you asked me to send last year also was for your husband?

Cass: Yes.

Jason: I've been your middle man all this time and I don't even know.

Barbara: I found it! This is the registration for marriage between Cassie Cain and Daniel Fenton. You used a fake name?

Cass: Yes. You will know otherwise.

Bruce: Why do you hide it?

Cass: I'm not sure all of you are gonna like him and vice versa.

Dick: Is he a bad person? I will kill him if he treats you badly.

Cass: No. He doesn't trust all of you at first.

Steph: And why is that?

Cass: He thinks the Justice League is working with the government. So by extension, all of you are associates of government to him.

Steph: Why is he running away from the government? Is he a criminal?

Barbara: No. He doesn't have any criminal records in his name. Except for the fact that he is practically nonexistent before he is 18, there is nothing wrong with him.

Tim: Is it a forged identity then?

Cass: No. The government wiped away his records.

Dick: What? Why?

Cass: I don't know.

Damian: I expect you to at least do a background check on someone before marrying them, Cain.

Dick: Did you get married with someone you barely know? Do you understand how dangerous that is? What if he just dipped you after you got married?

Cass: *Rolls her eyes* He isn't a bad person. I make sure of that at least. I know he is some sort of meta tho-

A green portal suddenly appears out of thin air making everyone be on guard except Cass. She expects Danny to come out of the portal to greet her but what comes out baffled her.

A young girl that looks a little like Cass riding on a big wolf comes out of the portal swiftly towards Cass. Everyone is just about to shoot their weapons when the girl's word shock them.

???:Mama!

Everyone: Mama?!!

[toxycodone]

mouthwashing characters and their icks

ship. tulpar crew x reader

content. sfwish, just annoying things about our faves, some are romantic and some are general.

Captain Curly

Wildly empathetic. Like to a point where it’s annoying. Like yes, you get it. It’s sad to see an animal on the side of the road. But this is the second dog this week and it’s bit him twice. (He also falls for like. Fake homeless scams. Omg.)

I think he had an era where he had a cat that fucking hated him and never ever left under the guest room bed and terrorized his guests but he didn’t have the heart to get rid of it. 💀

He always ends up playing devil’s advocate without trying. Like when you’re complaining about someone at work or some bitch who cut you off in traffic, Curly’s like “maybe they had a bad day!” or something.

He just…never lets you just wallow in your misery when you need to. When he starts with his “look on the bright side!” stuff it makes your eyes roll back into your skull.

Is soooooo fucking conflict avoidant he’d rather just take shit on the chin then ever speak his mind about things with you. It gets so bad bc he’s bottling all this crap up and getting kinda catty. Because he won’t just grow up and tell you what his problem is.

Comes home in his dirty ass shoes and tracks mud all over the house. I mean he’ll swiffer it up like the housewife he is but it’s annoying.

Doesn’t clean his hands before touching your phone (or his own) before eating,. U get a greasy screen.

Jimmy is an asshole to you and Curly just goes “now now, Jim…” It won’t be until Jimmy does something like. Really bad. That Curly decides to put his foot down and enforce boundaries with that man. You witness this dude literally use your man as a doormat way too often.

If you make him choose. He would probably choose Jim unless push really came to shove…..

GIRLS FLIRT WITH HIM IN PUBLIC AND HES TOO ‘AWKWARD’ TO SAY “I’m taken…” so he just flaunts in the attention. In reality he just…likes the attention but doesn’t want to admit it to himself. (He’s loyal don’t get me wrong but this is annoying)

Thinks big romantic public gestures are cute. Whether that is an ick or not is up to you.

Jimmy

GOES THROUGH YOUR PHONE WHEN YOU’RE ASLEEP OR IN THE BATHROOM. And when you catch him he’s doesn’t even bother to make a good excuses “just wanted to check something.” Okay??? What?? If you go through his phone he will legit tackle you for it back (he isn’t even cheating he’s just pathetically bitchless and friendless. His last text was to his dealer and bro didn’t even respond.)

Will leave your important messages on read. It’s like he has read receipts on just to spite you.

Aggressively questions you out of the blue on who you know and hang out with as if it isn’t the same fucking people each time.

Really horny when he’s drunk and tries to seduce you but has terrible whiskey dick.

Terrible morning breath. Rank. Disgusting. Also all his clothes have the faint scent of stale cigarette smoke. Along with his carpet. And furniture. His walls are probably off-white too.

World’s dirtiest bathroom it’s literally so gross. He leaves his stubble in/around the sink after shaving with an electric razor real fast before work.

Has probably kissed you and then asked you what you last ate with a grimace 💔

Your friends hate him. Your family hates him. Your landlord hates him. And he hates them back.

You’ve had to bail him out of jail before. The officer on duty just gives you a pitied look when he sees you walk in and say you’re bailing him of all people out.

Pretty sure he has threatened to kill himself if you leave him multiple times but lashes out at you when you’re sweet to him at the most random times.

Anya

Stealing this from @l1v1ngd3dgrrl but Anya has the DUMBEST. LAUGH. Like she has a cutesy laugh until she’s finally not thinking and she laugh so hard she snorts. So loud.

Refuses to file down her nails so she accidentally scratches you all the time.

Definitely has an ex she’s still friends with that makes you lowkey question what is going on between them bc they’re obviously still into her and she doesn’t see it.

She silently judges and you can see it on her face when she has something to say but then she goes “it’s nothing!!!” And refuses to say it. (However, this does make her the best gossiper and she can be a total mean girl and tear apart bitches you hate on secret.)

Lowkey tries to psychoanalyze you when you’re venting to her like girl. I am not your homework.

Thinks it’s her responsibility to “fix you” for some reason. Takes you being depressed, angry, etc a little too personally.

Never watches the movies or shows you recommend you have sit her down and watch it w her. And she will. Be distracted by stuff on her phone.

Avid Mitski fan. And Nora Jones. Just an air of sad girl and longing to her that goes soooo crazy.

Big fan of ugly sweaters and tacky matching outfits….but has the audacity to make comments on your style.

Daisuke

“This one’s for you!” *Misses*. In public. In front of your friends. Need I say more.

Uses your hair products in the shower and your soap and your nice shaving oil without asking. :/

This is moreso in the beginning of the relationship but. I see this persisting that he’s constantly looking to you for approval for things. Has a really difficult time making decisions on his own, too. He’s looking to you for guidance on stuff,

Unironically thinks Dutch ovening you is funny.

Your friends all think he’s mid and although he’s sweet. You’re way outta his league. You’re dating down.

Has more skin care products than he can ever use. He’s a total product junkie.

GACHA GAME WHALE. Has definitely borrowed money for a ten pull in genshin 💔

Has cried out of frustration over Fortnite before (he was in a bad place. Okay.)

Cannot keep a job for the life of him. The only solid career he lands is like. Bobarista. But goddamn he’s good at it.

Has. Forgotten your anniversary/birthday/etc. before. and probably almost threw up out of guilt.

Swansea

Does the dad cold start every morning. Hacking. Coughing. Spitting up in the sink. It’s gross.

When he takes a shit he’s stuck in the bathroom for like half an hour at least. It’s always oddly humid and gross if you go in after him.

Chews with his mouth open.

Walks around shirtless only in underwear and will proudly fart whenever he needs to and it’s loud as fuck.

His kids lowkey hate him tbh. 💀 they have a better relationship as adults but man. Rocky fucking childhood.

Nothing ever really makes him satisfied or truly happy so you’re stuck in this weird limbo on if he actually gives a shit about you or not.

Rolls his eyes at you. When you can plainly sees he has suuuuch an attitude problem it’s crazy.

Definitely has asked for a manager in your presence over something minuscule (you wanted to die)

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 17: The One About All the Hot Air

Oh, hey, hey, hey – what is that over there?

No, not that –

That!

Ah, fuck.

Is that what I think it is?

Yeah, yeah, it looks like some sort of hot air balloon.

Ugh, it’s that fucking wannabe Wizard! Get that manipulative shit-fuck outta here!

Seriously, don’t let it set foot on land. It’s not welcome on this side of Oz.

Someone release the flying monkeys! Like, now. Knock it out of the sky.

Wait, I thought the Wizard liked green. This weirdo has a red balloon.

Bitch, I didn’t say it was the Wizard; I said it was a wannabe Wizard.

Oh, no wonder it’s steering that balloon like a fucking clown.

Hell, I don’t even think we need the monkeys. That idiot is going to crash and burn itself straight into the glass walls of the Emerald Palace.

Well, you know what they say when you start throwing stones in a glass house…

It is slightly amusing (and a tad concerning) to me that children are always led to believe that the villain of “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” is that bitch of a Witch of the West when the worst character traits are actually portrayed by the Wizard himself. And, by “worst character traits,” I mean that he was a master manipulator who conned an entire city into believing he held some form of great power.

Did you know that in the original story the Emerald City wasn’t really that green? Sure, it was made from green glass and emeralds, but the Wizard required everyone to wear green-colored glasses so that everything appeared greener than it actually was. Weird, that. And, even more weird, people bought it! “Here, put these glasses on and you’ll see everything exactly the way I want you to see it.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m fully aware “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” is a work of fiction, but the idea that people can be easily manipulated – especially by someone with “power” – is not fiction.

That’s what today’s piece of “hot air” is about – fandom manipulation and the power of suggestion. And who better than to manipulate an entire fandom than the media? It’s unfortunate that I have to give the media power in this story – and even more unfortunate that I have to give it to rag-mags and social media – but the reality is information is power, regardless of whether it’s misinformation. In fact, MIT Sloan did a study in 2018 demonstrating how false information spreads through social media, namely, Twitter, six times faster than true information. Disturbing, right? I don’t even want to know what the going rate for misinformation is in 2025.

And, of course, since I opened today’s story with a visit to the Land of Oz, we may as well take a day trip over to Australia. Remember how I told you Australia deserved an entry of its own? Well, this is it. No, not really. I did say this was a day trip, not a sleep-over, so it’s not going to be chucked full of shiny bracelets or ways to “keep a good girl down.” It’s just our starting point today.

In my first entry, I briefly described what brought me into this fandom. It was something Luke said – and not really what he said, but how he said it – that left me intrigued. He was being interviewed on the Bowral red carpet by “Gretchen from the Philippines.” Yes, that’s literally how she introduced herself! Could I instead refer to the nice lady by her real name (Gretchen Fullido)? Sure, but “Gretchen from the Philippines” is far more fun. Plus, it sounds kind of whimsical. Any ways, Gretchen (from the Philippines) asked Luke if, “in real life,” he’d support friends-to-lovers. Luke’s response was, well, a bit jumbled, which was what sparked my curiosity because his previous answers that day were, for the most part, articulate: “I would – I would support friends – I feel like it’s not something that – that I have in my li – that I resonate with – that I’ve experienced. But, you know, if my – if my friends wanted to explore a relationship with one their friends, go for it. I’ll support it.”

Something in the way Luke answered that question was like suddenly being able to see the forest for the trees. At that moment, I was convinced Luke had always been in love with Nicola, and everything else that went on during that particular red-carpet event (and thereafter) simply christened the USS Lukola. However, that comment by Luke – and a subsequent one he made in New York – would result in the addition of a lot of trees to our enchanted forest.

Now – I apologize – we need to borrow a hot air balloon, preferably one that can travel through time, and jump forward to November 5, London-time. I promise, we will return to Oz momentarily.

Oh, fuck.

What now?

That ridiculous faux Wizard is right behind us. I thought I told you to send in the monkeys!

Dammit, you said we didn’t need them! I left those fuckers back in Oz.

Well, umm, I think we might need them now.

Why??

Uhh, do you see those four-legged beasts on the ground chasing our balloon?

Oh, you mean those coyote-like creatures?

Yeah, but we’re not in the Americas – and those ain’t coyotes…

Ah, here we are: November 5, Claridge’s, London. This was the evening Nicola attended the Harper’s Bazaar Women of the Year awards. We’re only stopping in real quick to steal a piece of the speech Nicola gave that evening. Okay, got it! Let’s get the fuck out of here!

The part of the speech I wanted to share was this: “I did a six-month press tour for Bridgerton, the show which I love, and I’m so proud of. The amount of inappropriate questions I got asked about my appearance, about my relationship…”

Hold up. Relationship? What relationship?

Did she say “relationship” or “relationships?”

Does it fucking matter?

Well, I guess not. But what does it mean?

I could tell you what I think it means… Wait a hot-air-balloon-minute – where the fuck have you taken us? I told you we needed to go back to April 21, Aussie-time. This looks like Soho in January.

Shit, sorry. Let me fix that. Here we go…

>>> 

Umm, hey, where’s that weird little red Wizard? I swear it was just behind us…

Eh, probably got stuck in Soho, hahaha. Guess it missed its exit.

Do you think that’s a good idea?

Yeah, sure. It’ll be fine…

We’ve returned to April 21, Bowral, Australia. Now, at this point in the timeline, World Tour interviews were already well underway. In fact, the first two parts of EmEdits on YouTube are entirely pre-Australia interviews, making up roughly 6 ½ hours of screen time. I’m not the least bit surprised that “Gretchen from the Philippines” asked Luke what his thoughts were on “real life” friends-to-lovers. The chemistry between Luke and Nicola was hard to ignore.

The Australian red carpet also introduced the hand holding, which – if we took another magical mystery tour over to May 9, Italy – Nicola and Luke agreed was a sign of “love.” I suppose I could buy the excuse that one or both had so much anxiety they needed the other’s hand to remain calm on the red carpet. But, nah, I wouldn’t buy that at all – for one very specific reason. When Luke and Nicola were seen leaving (I believe) the Milton Park Country House on April 23, Luke instinctively reached for Nicola’s hand as they were descending the steps. Why? This reflex by Cool Hand Luke was as natural as a pregnant woman touching her stomach. I ask again – why?

There’s only one answer.

It’s the answer that fits with the Claddagh ring. It’s the answer that fits with the side jaunt to Galway. It’s the answer that fits with their natural chemistry, the hand holding, the canned “shared experience” and “unique relationship” responses, the playful sexual innuendos. It’s the answer that fits with Luke’s “the best foundation for love is friendship” bracelet. It’s the answer that fits with Nicola’s remark about “[t]he amount of inappropriate questions I got asked…about my relationship…” It’s the only fucking answer that makes sense.

But, the real kicker is, why don’t people believe that is the answer?

Why is it so hard to believe that Luke and Nicola could be in a real-life relationship?

That’s easy – because the Man Behind the Curtain told us so.

Who is the Man Behind the Curtain? Well, that’s also easy. It’s collectively the rag-mags and the social media creators on the prowl for a following. It’s the spread of misinformation at its worst and it’s so incredibly easy to do with, say, a pair of green-colored glasses.

Like I said, “…put these glasses on and you’ll see everything exactly the way I want you to see it.”

There was one major plot twist that came out of the World Tour, and you already know what that is. The seed was planted with a New Year’s Eve kiss, fertilized with blurry pictures, a compulsory hallway hug, and copycat photos, and encouraged to grow with a bit of junk news and a lot of social media innuendo. Now, I’m not saying the video and photographic evidence that was presented was fabricated; I’m simply suggesting the narrative that came out that evidence was skewed. The media, namely, social media creators, pushed us to plant Lutonia trees while Luke’s actions (i.e., not acknowledging the existence of Lutonia) told us to “pay no attention to the Man Behind the Curtain.”

Uh, so, what you’re saying is we shouldn’t have left that wannabe Wizard in Soho?

Ah, shit! I forgot about that fucker!

The unfortunate thing about the Lutonia narrative was that it was bolstered by insinuation that Luke would never be interested in Nicola. Now, whether these remarks were deliberately planted, or they were simply seedpods carried away by a storm, they were not overlooked by Lukolas – or Nicola. In fact, Nicola herself brushed upon it in her Harper’s Bazaar speech: “The amount of inappropriate questions I got asked about my appearance…” Yes, I’m referring to the suggestion that Luke preferred “brunettes” over “blondes.” Somehow this narrative was conveniently supported by the existence of – lo and behold! – the brunette “friend of a friend” Antonia, who happened to be slender. Again, whether it was intentional or not, the push by, initially, social media creators (and later gossip rags) to link Luke to Antonia inadvertently called the blonde in our story – Nicola – fat. I refuse to dance around that word because it is exactly what this disgusting narrative implied when it chose to compare Antonia to Nicola. Regardless of whether these gossipmongers “corrected” themselves by replacing “thin” with “brunette” and “fat” with “blonde,” the implication was that Luke would never be interested in Nicola because she had thick blonde hair. This was incredibly upsetting and confusing to many Lukolas because it was contrary to Luke’s behavior towards Nicola throughout the World Tour (and in Bridgerton behind-the-scenes clips).

I decided months ago that Luke was incredibly transparent. And, by that, I mean he’s terrible at keeping secrets. Luke himself admitted his “tell” to this was pulling at his ear – now go watch the World Tour with that information in mind. It’ll give you something to do, at the very least. Luke’s sincerity is also why the blonde versus brunette nonsense just doesn’t take flight for me. Any ways, as I hinted at earlier, Luke’s comments on the Bowral red carpet and his later comments in New York City about friends-to-lovers would – again, unfortunately – give the Man Behind the Curtain ammunition to debunk any real-life relationship between Luke and Nicola. Luke was quickly labeled as being “…dismissive of something ever happening between him and Nicola…” Those are literally the words The Tab used in an article dated May 22 to explain Luke and Nicola’s differing commentary about real-life friends-to-lovers. In fact, the article is titled, “Luke Newton has revealed the reason he’d never date Bridgerton co-star Nicola Coughlan.” Oddly – but not really given the source – Luke never actually said he would never date Nicola. But that fact didn’t stop it from becoming a theme of the World Tour – Luke didn’t believe in friends-to-lovers therefore he would never date Nicola – even though, by the end of the tour, Luke’s stance on this had seemingly changed. That’s not to say the rag-mags misquoted Luke – they didn’t – but the narrative they coiled around his words attempted to shut down the idea that Luke and Nicola would ever date in real life because Luke wasn’t interested. But what Luke was saying was that he believed in love-at-first sight. “I actually don’t think friends-to-lovers is something that happens in my life. If I meet someone, I know immediately.” Now, take that statement with the fact that Luke has repeatedly stated he remembers everything about the moment he met Nicola.

The above examples of gossip and innuendo are simply par for the course. The media manipulates facts all the time – whether it be through social media chatter or rag-mags putting their own spin on ordinary commentary – but this type of manipulation is not what puts the fandom in danger of itself. In fact, most of the gossip and innuendo that took root during the World Tour would have dissipated almost immediately after it ended – if it hadn’t been for Papsmear.

Yeah. That was disastrous.

Come to think of it, it was awfully convenient, too, don’t you think?

Absolutely. And you know what else was convenient? That little wannabe Wizard was –

Oh, yeah, I heard that, too! That clown has been trying to hand out green-colored glasses ever since!

Yep. Tried to give me a pair and I told it to go fuck itself and its little glass cat, too. I mean, they weren’t even name brand glasses. Fake ass, bitch.

All jesting aside, if you haven’t noticed already, I do, on occasion, use my writing to call out the fandom, usually as a whole. I mean, we are in this together, right? Actually, no; we ceased being Collectively Delulu after a few unsavory characters were bitten by the Hunter’s Moon and followed Nicola through the streets of New York and London. There was a major – and rather unexpected – shift in the fandom when the rabid Jakolas appeared from the dark corners of our enchanted forest. And I’m sure you’ve realized at this point in my story that I have one particular – oh, shit, I just realized I don’t even know to which fandom our wannabe Wizard belongs. Ruh-roh. Regardless, that motherfucker is in my peep sight because it is a perfect example of how fandom manipulation has reached a new level of toxicity.

Typically, I don’t care what part of the fandom you’re on. My general attitude is, to each their own. If you’re a Jakola and you find yourself spending an average of 15 minutes each week reading my Lukola blog, I applaud you for peeking outside of the den hole. Best not let Alpha find out, though. It’s all in good fun, right? I often find myself getting a good laugh from Jakola stories, especially when they theorize on the Woman Behind the Curtain. Question, though – did you find her? In all seriousness, if I didn’t consider Jakola and Lutonia perspectives, I would be borderline Conscientiously Stupid, now, wouldn’t I? After all, the desire for knowledge is what ultimately gave our Scarecrow his brain.

However, what I don’t find “in good fun” is when social media creators prey on more than one side of the fandom under phony pretense, namely, that they “just want Nicola to be happy.” Oh, these Cowardly Lions may argue that they’re simply being “neutral” – and, yes, I’m sure some instances of this do exist – however, neutrality does not embrace openly ridiculing one fandom over another, especially on a platform that is touted by its owners as being a “safe space” for everyone. The problem with these so-called “neutral creators” is that they’re only here for social media engagement – the clicks and the giggles – and they defect to the other side when the going gets tough. If you, too, take issue with this kind of creator, be soothed in knowing that when you play two sides, you find yourself with two-times the number of enemies.

What makes these so-called “neutral creators” – actually, let’s just call them the “Defectors” – so poisonous to the fandom is that they are made from the grease drippings found at the bottom of the barrel of the Conscientiously Stupid. The Conscientiously Stupid are one thing – they are the ones using their platforms to spread misinformation because they choose to ignore exculpatory evidence (i.e., they’re headstrong in their beliefs) – but the Defectors are typically the ones creating the misinformation and feeding it to the Conscientiously Stupid and then hanging them out to dry when the information proves to be false. The Conscientiously Stupid who refuse to “lose the battle” then resort to bullying (more so than usual) the Sincerely Ignorant of an opposing fandom. And in defense of their Sincerely Ignorant comrades (or simply because they’re sick and tired of the Conscientiously Stupid preventing anyone from having nice things), the Fact Finders – unceremoniously, I might add – have taken their own place on the battlefield (oh, yes, they are absolutely your tactical commanders). Now, the entire fandom is at war with each other – all because some wannabe Wizard – a Defector – convinced people to look through a pair of shiny, green-colored glasses. More than once.

Is it appropriate – or perhaps a bit catty – to put “ceasefire” here?

Ah, yes, well, uh, we have found ourselves a bit far from Oz at this point, haven’t we?

I suppose – but we are trying to help Dorothy find her way back home, and at least we now have an idea as to how she got lost.

Maybe one day we will get her back to Kansas.

Yeah, maybe.

Oh, silly me! I forgot to sneak in a sly reference to Dorothy’s third companion – the Tin Man! He’s perfect for the end of our story. You know, in the book, the Wizard was just an ordinary man who stumbled into his Ozian existence on a magnificent hot air balloon and took advantage of the power that Emerald citizens bestowed upon him. Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Wizard preyed on the naïve using deception and the power of suggestion and invoked fear in anyone who dared to question his authority –

Uh, where are you going with this?

Give me a minute!

Like I said – shit, where was I? – Oh, yes, the Wizard was just an ordinary man, and ordinary people are flawed. We all make mistakes. This is where our Tin Man comes in as he represents love and empathy. Yes, empathy; the ability to put yourself in someone else’s shoes, to understand and forgive, to take into consideration someone’s redeeming qualities –

You know that Wizard defected in his hot air balloon before taking Dorothy home, right?

Wait, what?

Okay, okay. It was Toto’s fault but the Wizard sure as shit didn’t come back for her!

Hmm, you’d almost think Toto knew the Wizard’s true colors all along…

“Au revoir, Wiz.”

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Love Triangle From Hell (3)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Following PART TWO, Steve feels even more distant from his friends- especially you; Eddie reflects on memories he has of you two; Nancy and Jonathan work together for the paper; Robin does her best to navigate what being friends with you and Steve looks like; you seek comfort in one of the only ways you know how- calling Eddie

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; allusions to violence; miscommunication; jealousy; kissing; implications of smut; horniness

A/N: You guys are literally the absolute best. I am having the best time writing this- I'm so inspired by all of you. The love you have shown this fic so far has me overwhelmed. Thank you for your kind words, you have helped me work through some serious writer's block. Your comments and reblogs are keeping me going fr

This is unedited; please let me know what you think and if I missed anything I should include as a warning.

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

His hands are tangled in your hair and he’s pulling you in close for another searing kiss. He can’t catch his breath, but he’s just so desperate to stay close to you like this. Your lips are so soft against his and your mouth is so inviting as you yank him closer. You whimper against his lips and it makes him shiver. He feels weak in the knees as you feel so pliable to his touch. You melt into his embrace and sigh happily as his lips trail down your neck. 

“Want you,” you moan softly, tugging his hair. He groans at the sensation. “Need you so bad.” 

“‘M gonna take care of you,” he promises, bringing his lips back to yours. 

“Love you,” you moan.

Before he finds out  if he says it back, his alarm goes off and he’s brought back to his reality. He groans disappointedly, covering his ears with his pillow- desperate for a couple more minutes with dream you. There’s a bang at his door. 

“Steve! Turn that shit off!” Eddie calls from the other side of the door. He’s yelling but his tone is playful. Steve hits his alarm off and drudges out of bed finally. Eddie has coffee made and Steve forgets anything is wrong at the moment. 

“Did she say anything last night?” Steve asks groggily as he pours himself a cup. 

“Um, not really,” Eddie replies, taking a moment to think about it. “I mean, yes but not about anything that we don’t know already. She’s conflicted, she doesn’t know what to think or feel. She just wants time.” 

“Okay,” Steve replies, leaning up against the counter. He takes a sip of his coffee. He needs to get to work. He can talk about this with Robin when he gets there. 

When you called Eddie, you didn’t expect Steve to answer. You thought maybe he’d say something- you wanted him too. But he didn’t. You couldn’t read him anymore.

Eddie was thrilled to hear your voice. He’d missed you, and he’d missed talking to you. He wanted that piece back as soon as he could get it. He reveled in the way his name sounded coming from you. 

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, “I didn’t mean to upset Steve- I heard the way he dropped the phone down…” 

“It’s okay sweetheart,” he says compassionately. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He’s met with a sad feeling of silence. 

“I’m happy you called,” he says gently. He hopes the sentiment makes you feel better. 

“I’ve missed you,” you admit, and Eddie feels like his heart might swell out of his chest. 

“It’s hard when the two people who you talk about everything with are the people you want to talk about,” you joke, and he laughs with you. 

“You can talk shit about me,” he teases and he hears you groan. He bites his lip, holding back a smile. 

“How are you doing?” You ask, changing the subject. 

“Much better now,” he flirts. 

“How are you doing, really?” You ask again, your voice sounding more fragile. 

“I meant, honestly- not great. But not worse than anyone else is doing right now.” 

“Yeah…” 

“I miss you a lot too,” he admits. He runs a hand through his hair, and it reminds him of how amazing it felt the last time you played with his hair. He’s craving that touch so badly. 

When you both were in high school, Eddie went out of his way to make sure you always had a seat at the table. He’d notice as you stood with your cafeteria tray, waiting for Steve to realize there was no open seat for you at his table. He’d wave obnoxiously to catch your eye and he’d smile at the way you’d get shy from the attention. He’d point at the empty seat next to him, and he’d grin as your eyes light up in realization you had a spot. You’d shuffle through the crowd and take your seat next to him. You’d take a seat and ruffle his hair in your hands. 

Eddie was always a creature of habit. As much as he exudes chaos, he actually thrives in having a routine. Don’t get him wrong- it’s never been a good routine… but it’s routine nonetheless. In high school it was a lot of the same. Tuesdays, Corroded Coffin played at The Hideout. He would get home way too late and never get in bed until close to 3am. Wednesday mornings, he’d sleep through his alarm and stroll into first period consistently 10ish minutes late. Thursdays he prepped for Hellfire, and then of course, the piece the resistance was Friday. Hellfire. An epic campaign that would run several hours and ensure the most recent shit week had been worth it to make it to that moment. 

He remembers that he was paralyzed when the group proposed to postpone Hellfire one time his first senior year. It snaps him out of his thoughts, as he was so wrapped up in you- and how close you were sitting. Eddie knew that hypothetically, it shouldn’t matter if the date changes. However, he couldn’t wrap his head around change. He hated it- still does. A disruption from his status quo throws off his entire week and it will take him too long to mentally recover. He knew that he came off as a hard ass, but he prefers it than trying to explain his mind to his friends. He had felt  his jaw tighten as he tried to rationalize with himself that it can be okay to switch it up. He unclenched his fists once he realized that he was making his knuckles white unintentionally. 

“Uh yeah, no problem. Saturday’s fine,” he was able to manage through gritted teeth. He relaxed when he could look past himself and see his friends smile, thanking him and happily chatting about the campaign. He smiled when he observed that his decision made everyone happy. That for him outweighed the internal struggle. 

He didn’t really listen to the reason everyone wanted to reschedule, but he picked up on after the fact that everyone is talking about the Snow Ball. He couldn’t help but recoil back into himself as his friends talked about their plans to go- who they’re asking, what suit they’re getting, what songs would play, and whatever. He couldn’t have cared less. Unless… 

His eyes wandered to sneak a glance at you. He wondered if you had plans- maybe you're hoping someone asks you. Maybe, he’s lucky and you were hoping that someone would be him. He wondered if you had a date. Maybe you already had been asked. It’s not like you had been aware of the way Eddie’s felt about you- unrequited feelings that tugged on his focus constantly since he’s known you. You caught his eye and offered him a shy smile and he could crumble. 

Eddie immediately averted his gaze, and focused his attention back on his friends. He ignored the way his face suddenly became so warm and he ignored the butterflies that were swarming around in his stomach. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on these feelings- he knew that there’s no way you feel the same. Who could possibly like him? 

He felt a pressure when the freshman looked at him, one of them having asked Eddie about his own plans. Eddie sees the way the kids look up to him, they idolize him. He knows they think he’s cool. He can’t let that go just yet, he loved it too much. He needed it. He wanted to have them hang on to this version of him for as long as they’d believe in it. 

So, despite his usual distaste in school sanctioned functions, he did not want to allow the kids to think he couldn’t score a date. He could only blame society so much before they realized it’s actually his own fear of putting himself out there that cramped his dating life more than anything else. He then resolves that he needs a date to this dance. He tells himself that it’s for the freshman, to keep up the cool facade or whatever. But in actuality, he just wanted to ask you because he wants to ask you out. It’s his perfect window of opportunity. 

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it, honestly,” you said, when one of the freshmen asked you if you had plans. “I’d been so busy with the play, I haven’t had a chance.” Eddie watched as you glanced over to Steve’s table. “Steve and I usually would go to this kinda thing,” you said quickly, and Eddie could see your apprehension despite your best attempt to hide it. “We’ll probably go as friends again.” 

He said nothing. 

A few days later, you called Eddie and he could immediately tell you’re upset. You’re doing your best to hold it together but he can tell you’re almost at your breaking point. 

“Hey,” you say, your voice straining as you try not to cry. “I know this is totally not your thing, but I’m kind of in a bind.” 

“What can I do?” He asked, sitting up straight on his bed. He was getting ready to locate his shoes or his keys- thinking you’re in trouble somewhere. He’ddrop anything to come get you. 

“I know you’d probably rather do literally anything else, but um, I have two tickets to the Snow Ball and I already bought a dress…” 

“I thought you’d be going with Steve?” He asked. You sniffled. 

“Um, yeah I kind of just assumed he’d take me. I didn’t realize that he asked out Nancy Wheeler,” you choked back tears. “I mean it’s not like that,” you lied, maybe not to Eddie but more to yourself, “we’re just friends. But I still thought He and I would be going together like as friends again- you know? But, uh, yeah- he is taking like a real date.” 

“I know you’d hate it, and I will make it up to you. But, I already bought the tickets and I can’t get my money back. It’s like not a date or anything, just like a friend thing…” 

“I’d be happy to take you,” he replied, sincerely. He can tell you were expecting him to fight you on it. When would you catch on that he’s willing to do anything for you? 

“Eddie, thank you so much,” you sniffled, still trying your best to keep it cool. “I owe you one,” your voice cracks and you hang up quickly before he gets a chance to say anything. 

Eddie didn’t really understand back then why you were even friends with Steve to begin with. Eddie thought Steve, frankly, was a total douchebag. However, once he actually got to know Steve- it was a different story. He couldn’t resent Steve. He loved him like a brother now. And once Eddie got to know the Steve you’ve always known, your feelings for him made sense. But at the same time, Eddie held his tongue for all the things Steve did or didn’t do for so long. Steve was good guy at his core, Eddie understood. But his actions didn’t reflect that in Eddie’s eyes. But it wasn’t his place to tell you that. It didn’t seem right. You’d known Steve so much longer than him. 

Nancy and Jonathan invited you and Robin to go with them to watch Lucas’ basketball game. You were excited to get out of your little apartment and support Lucas. Jonathan was photographing it for The Hawkins Post. Jonathan paced up and down the court side to get photos, and you sat up in the bleachers with Nancy and Robin. You were never one to go to school things really, but it was Lucas’s senior year and it was a big game- of course you were going to be there. 

“It feels weird, Steve not being here,” Nancy whispers to you and you nod in agreement. 

“Yeah, everything just feels weird right now,” you agree. “You and Jonathan are okay?” 

“We’re good. We’re doing good, um, still working through stuff but we’re going to just work through it.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Robin?” Nancy asks, and Robin turns her head to pay attention. “How’s things with Vicky?” 

Robin’s face turns tomato red. “Fine,” she mumbles, happily. “I’m gonna hang out with her tomorrow.” You elbow her teasingly, making her blush redden. 

“How’s it feeling? Being the best at all of this out of us?” You tease. 

“I don’t know,” she’s so embarrassed, it’s so sweet. “We both just like each other- it’s not that complicated. She’s so great.” 

The three of you turn your attention back to the game at the sound of the whistle. You clapped and cheered the loudest whenever Lucas had the ball. He tried to plead with the lot of you to tone it down, casting weary looks in your direction. You couldn’t help yourselves. You felt so proud of him. 

You decide to take a walk to the concession stands and get some snacks for everyone. You order four sodas and two large popcorns- one for Jonathan and Nancy and one for you and Robin. You fish the cash out of the front pocket of your jeans, and hand it to the kid working the window. You thank him, and balance it all in your hands to navigate carefully back to the stands. 

You see a familiar face coming down the hallway, sprinting. For a moment, you can’t help the smile that forms across the expanse of your face until you remember what’s been going on. Your face falls, and you feel so stupid for being excited to see him when it hits you again all at once. 

You don’t think Steve knew you’d all be here, because he looks just as surprised to see you. He stops and his sneakers squeak across the polished gym floor. He looks at you with an expression of pure panic. He totally didn’t think you’d be here. And you’re surprised he came alone- but of course he did, he’s Steve. Of course, he’s going to show up to every game for Lucas. You shouldn’t expect any less. It still takes you back. 

“Can I help with those?” he asked, gesturing for you to pass some stuff to him. You nod, and tilt so he can take some of the things from your grasp. 

“Where are you sitting?” He asks, and you nod your head towards Robin and Nancy. His face deflates. “Ah, okay.” He walks over with you, and he passes the items in his hand off to Robin. He moves aside so you can walk back into your spot. 

“Thanks, Steve,” you offer him a soft smile, appreciating the effort despite the circumstances.

“Yeah of course,” he mutters, backing away, lingering for a moment because the seat that’s usually there for him between you and Robin isn’t there. He quickly pulls himself out of his thoughts and just heads over to the next row of bleachers, finding a seat next to a couple of his old basketball teammates that are here for their little brothers. 

Steve can’t even focus on the game,  he keeps trying to steal glances of you from his peripheral vision. He wants to know what Robin said that made you laugh like that, and he wished he could have heard your laugh- but you’re too far away from him. He watches as your jaw drops at something Nancy tells you, and he watches how you cheer so happily for Lucas. He wants to know if this is bothering you the way it’s bothering him. You look like you’re keeping it together and he wants to know if that could truly be the case. 

Even when you’re carrying so much hurt, you give off such a radiance that Steve and he’s sure everyone else is just drawn into. Your pretty smile and your bright eyes are all he can think about- he only knows when to cheer when he feels the people around him move. He smiles when you stand up and pose, pointing to Lucas- then Lucas matches it, giving it back to you. He watches as you both share that moment of just pure joy, and his heart aches. He doesn’t know if he could ever make you that happy. 

When the game was over, you looked to see if you could find Steve but there was no sign of him. You all invited Lucas to go out for celebratory pizza for his big win, but he wanted to go with his teammates. The plan fizzled pretty much after that. Robin wanted to get home so she could call Vicky and Jonathan and Nancy wanted to head home so Jonathan could start developing his photos. When you and Robin are walking out, you see a familiar van. 

“I’ll bum a ride from Nancy,” Robin assures you, pushing you in Eddie’s direction. She waves to Eddie from a distance and then jogs to catch up with Nancy and Jonathan. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask with a smile. He pushes himself off of the hood of his van and walks over to you, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. 

“I thought you might be here,” he quips. “Plus, I had to poke my head in- Sinclair is some big shot apparently?” he jokes, “I had to check out for a few minutes.”

“He’s really great,” you agree. 

“Was Steve here?” Eddie asks. 

“Yeah I saw him. He didn’t really stay either- I mean he stayed for the game, but we didn’t talk really.” You shrug. 

“Well,” he says, trying to optimistically change the subject, “Do you wanna get out of here? I could give you a ride home or we could get food or something- or even just drive around and not talk. I’m not picky.” 

He looks so beautiful like this, you observe. The sky is pitch black but the lights in the parking lot illuminate him perfectly with a soft glow. His hair is wonderfully messy and his smile is making it hard for you to breathe. Has he always looked like this? You wonder, astonished as it hits you all at once. He’s gorgeous. Your eyes linger, taking in every little detail you’ve overlooked before. He waves his hand in front of your face to snap you out of your trance. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” he tisks. 

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like you’re trying to jump my bones,” he chuckles. Your face warms, and suddenly you realize how long you must have been staring. 

“Ha, right,” you joke sarcastically, or at least, trying to joke sarcastically. You walk past him and get into the passenger side of the van and try your best to compose yourself in the few seconds it takes for him to follow suit. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” he says, turning over the ignition, “where to?”

“Can we just drive around like we used to?” you ask- the circumstances of tonight making you feel so nostalgic. 

“Of course we can,” he hums, passing you the case of his cassettes- a familiar and welcomed sight for your tired eyes. 

You watch Eddie as he drives, and observe the way the muscles in his arms flex ever so subtly as he turns the wheel. You watch his ringed fingers tap across the top of the steering wheel and you can’t help it the way your mind wanders. You’re so wrapped up in the way his hair sways so effortlessly and the movement of his jaw as he sings, you don’t even notice that Steve was leaving the gym just in time to see you both drive away. 

After a little while of aimless driving, and hitting up the drive thru, Eddie ends up parking at Lover’s Lake when neither of you are ready to go home just yet. 

“Eddie?” You ask absentmindedly, finishing off the milkshake he got you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he replies, also finishing his, but with an obnoxiously loud suck of his straw- determined to get every last sip. 

“Why do you like me?” you ask, cringing almost immediately. You think you sound like a middle schooler or something- you’re so embarrassed. His eyes widen for a brief second, contemplating his answer. He tosses the empty cup into the back. 

“First off,” he criticizes teasingly, “I did not say I liked you- I’m in love with you. Get your facts straight, ma’am.” 

“My apologies,” you giggle, holding your hands up in defeat.

“I mean- I love everything about you; always have,” he starts. “You’re sweet and kind. I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re incredible, and sometimes I can’t figure out why you wanted to ever be friends with me in the first place.”

“Eddie?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Would you kiss me?” 

Eddie’s a goner when you’re looking at him with those doe eyes. More than anything he wants to lunge across and close the space between you. It’s everything he’s ever wanted. It takes every fiber of his being to hold himself back..

“I don’t know if I can kiss you without knowing if I could ever kiss you again,” He whispers, but it doesn’t stop him from leaning in towards you. His hand lifts to hold your cheek and suddenly he’s so close. Closer than the two of you have ever been. His lips are tantalizingly close to yours when his forehead touches yours. A huge bang on the side of the van scares you both away from each other. 

“Give her time, my ass, Munson! Get the fuck out here! Get your fucking hands off my girl!”

Taglist:

@sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs

[vexwerewolf]

Harrison Armory

I think a lot of people fundamentally misunderstand Harrison Armory, Lancer fans on Tumblr especially.

Harrison Armory is not Nazi Germany. Harrison Armory doesn't actually have an exact parallel on modern-day Earth, and it would be difficult to draw them without potentially insensitive implications.

I think the closest parallel I can draw is late-stage Obama-era America, with a lot of Nordic-style public investment and China's Social Credit system.

People depicting the Armory as a cold, grind-obsessed hypercapitalist nightmare are thinking of IPS-N. The Armory looks after its citizens, at least in as much as happy workers are productive workers. Even as a colonial subject, you can expect a decent standard of living simply because they don't answer solely to shareholders - for better or for worse, the Armory has a vision, an insistence upon the dignity of Humanity which wouldn't allow them to let you live in squalor. This is a cold, haughty kind of beneficence - they don't care about you per se, it's just that allowing you to suffer would reflect poorly on them.

You will get healthcare. You will get free, frequent public transit that you might not even need to use, since every city is walkable. You will get clean water, healthy food and safe streets. You will get frequent vacations and as many sick days as you need. No matter your ethnicity, birth gender, gender identity, religion, sexuality, physical or mental ability, the Armory has a place for you. The Armory does not discriminate.

The Armory is expansionist, for sure, but it chooses its new acquisitions carefully - Diasporan worlds under the thumb of ruthless dictators, repressive theocracies, avaricious hypercapitalist oligarchs. If you're a colonial subject, the Armory have likely liberated you from tyrants.

What do you give in return? Complete cultural obedience.

You will not cause a disturbance. You will not rock the boat. You will not question the benevolent system that gave you this abundance. The Armory gives you all the choices that really matter to someone like you: eat what you want, shop where you want, buy what you want - after all, every shop, every café, every restaurant is an Armory subsidiary, so whatever cuisine you favour, whatever brand of dataslate you prefer, the Armory is making back most of the salary they pay you. The Armory puts a roof over your head. The Armory protects you from the wolves at the door. The Armory even lets you vote on your local representatives (they've all got spotless Socials, so you know that no matter who you choose, they're loyal, attentive citizens). Are you not happy? Are you not grateful?

Show us. Show us you're grateful. Show up to the Foundation Day parade. Salute the statues of Harrisons I (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE), II (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE) and III (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE). Recite the Pledge. Volunteer for the local Guard Corps - or better yet, the Colonial Legion. Don't you care about your community? Aren't you proud of your nation? Don't you want to give back? Aren't you a good citizen?

What's that? Dissent? You little shit! You ungrateful little worm! After all we've done for you, after all this Great Nation has sacrificed for you, you dare ask for more? Harrison I (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE) sacrificed himself on Union's altar for us - for YOU! Harrison II (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE) died refusing to bend the knee, refusing to sacrifice our freedom - YOUR LIBERTY! Harrison III (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE) tours the Purview to see and hear your fellow countrymen and address their concerns, and you dare question his right to rule? The Steward Council is comprised of only his most trusted advisors - do you doubt their commitment to our values?

We live in the best and brightest era of human civilization, the problems of the past all behind us, and all you can think about is ways to drag us all down. You ungrateful, shiftless, lazy little bastard. You want me to call the local Social board? See how they feel about your profile? If you don't feel like the Armory is doing enough for you? Well, let's see how you like it when the Armory does nothing for you. You clearly don't have the spirit or the courage to be truly free.

Ugh, dissenters, am I right? Fuck, sorry about that, folks. Yeah, that was... intense! Anyway, let's not let that whole sordid ordeal ruin this party. Let's all just chill, take an edible, and celebrate what we came here to celebrate - the Colonial Legion incorporated its first all-trans Genghis brigade! What a win for progressivism, right? You'd never see that in the Trade Baronies! Praise the Director General! Long may he serve!

[snugglyporos]

// Christ I wish I could go back in time and erase concepts like 'unconscious bias' from the world of popular lingo because people apply it to things that they don't apply to. No, most people do not possess an unconscious bias that working class people are worth less than rich people, that's your classist ideology being applied to things that you shouldn't apply it to. We might call that a conscious bias.

What is actually happening is a mix of tropes being blended together and not changing over time. Namely, the idea that the more individuals there are, the weaker they are. We see this everywhere; fifty ninjas? Weak. Not a problem. One ninja? Super powerful. Legend. This exists in everything from James Bond movies to comics to Power Rangers.

The reality is that, narratively speaking, the random cannon fodder between the protagonist and the final boss do not matter. They don't! In real life they would, but if you tried to give ever goon a backstory and explain it you would have a shit story because the audience does not care about the backstory of unnamed good #23. After they take the punch from the protagonist, the audience has entirely forgotten they existed.

Which means that, narratively speaking, the killing of the main villain is more important and more impactful than the killing of some random goon. Now, if you're a good writer this shouldn't be the case. But this too, comes from the blending of genres and tropes.

In the late 1980s, fiction became more violent and more visceral. This means that a lot more violence was happening! And yet, writers still wanted to have their protagonist show that they were the protagonist, because people were all in on moral relativism. People would be like 'well, there's no difference between the hero and the villain if the hero kills the villain.'

The response was a lot of heroes started adopting a weird kind of no killing rule; Batman will break your fucking spine but kill the guy who just blew up a building? That's too far! 'I'm not like you, a guy who kills people, I just cripple them for life!'

And again, this is what happens when genre conventions (the hero should be morally superior than the villain, or at least attempt to be) mixing with trope developments (everything now needs to be brutal and violent to reflect real life).

Now, the circle has completed itself, where we're once again back to 1985, where people are like 'actually no, the hero should fucking kill that guy.' You'll probably be a big fan of the Death Wish movies and The Dark Knight Strikes Back; you know, things that lots of proto-fascists really love because they reinforce the notion that actually, heroes should wield violence against their enemies and impose their will through abject terror.

The reality is, people aren't sitting around going 'my work should reflect the idea that workers are less important than the boss' it's that narratively, the random goons exist to be smacked down to prepare the audience for the big bad, because rising action requires that there be rising challenges. This is mixing along with personal tastes in media.

Now, you could, for example, turn this new trope on its head and ask whether the Punisher murdering every jaywalker and low level drug dealer with extreme violence makes him a villain, because his ideal is that any lawbreaker should be murdered instantly no matter how low the crime. You might also argue that the trope should actually be that the grunts shouldn't be killed by the hero, but the guy who organized them should, because he's much worse than they are.

You could also argue that, the reason why the hero doesn't just kill the villain is that murder is wrong? Even if you think it's morally justified? I think people forget, when they fantasize about an ideal French Revolution, that the most common crime people were executed for was pickpocketing, and every day they would execute the guys who got caught working the crowds at the executions the day before. More poor people got killed in the French Revolution than rich people; you should probably keep that in mind!

Because the core reason you probably want your hero to not kill people in general is that you then have to ask who deserves it and your answer will inevitably include a lot of people you might actually like! You probably don't want heroes taking vague concepts like justice into their own hands because inevitably that makes them into the Death Wish protagonist, deciding that what really needs to happen is for a white guy with a gun to just start shooting up inner cities.

You don't want your hero to start killing people because this is corrosive and it will inevitably result in comparisons between people who got killed.

So no, it's not some kind of unconscious bias, it's because we've melted a worldwide demand for bloodshed and violence with established genre tropes and if you removed one or the other people would complain and be very unhappy.

Or, I guess you could go on and say that Freddy Kruger is anti-marxist because he only targets teenagers instead of people who really deserve it.

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris)

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy". note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons. Also, this story is angsty with a happy ending - it does not contain any smut or suggestive themes. [A/N: This is my first SMAU and hooooooly shit did I totally underestimate how much work it is, and how things work within Tumblr to make it look alright. If you have any tips, let me know lol. I had to split it up in pieces, but i've got all the content written out already, so will be updated soon with the next part!]

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

December, 2025

February, 2026

[Excerpt from red carpet interview at the Grammy's with Y/N]

How are you feeling tonight? You're up for 3 awards, one of them Album of the Year for All I Ever Needed - that's huge!

"It's so overwhelming, to be honest."

Even when you've gone through this experience before? This is your fourth time attending, second time as nominee.

"Yeah, maybe even more so! It's a great chance to hang out with friends and meet new people, but it's also really prestigious still. Being nominated - I try to act like it doesn't matter, because awards always involve politics too - but at the end of the day, you do want it."

And who're you most looking forward to seeing tonight?

"Honestly? I came alone tonight, so I can't wait to find Sabrina [Carpenter] and Jade. I'm gonna need my girls."

Your friend Miley is also up for an award tonight in the same category, what's that like?

"Ha, if the Grammy's do the right thing tonight she'll win it - I know I voted for her!"

You'll also be performing one of your songs - Ruin My Life, can you tell us a bit about what to expect?

"I really wanted this to be visually interesting, but it took me a while to get the right concept for it. I think it's because to me this album and song already feel sort of far removed, and lived in? I'm in a different phase of my life right now, so I had to find a new way to still connet to it. I was really grateful to work with a great art director to bring a different version to the stage."

March, 2026

July, 2026

[SkyNews excerpt]

Lando Norris wins Silverstone GP, dedicates his 20th podium win to his family

The man of the hour is none other than Lando Norris, who’s just gone on to claim his 20th victory at his home race. You’re reading that right, his home race! While he still owns his apartment in Monaco, Norris revealed today that he’s been living back in England for the past few months. “I just wasn’t in the right headspace anymore and wanted to live closer to my family. Especially now that my brother’s kids are growing up, I just like knowing I could drive over – rather than having to fly across countries.”

Speaking on the importance of his family being present, Norris shared that it means everything to him. “In this sport you need to have skill, talent, trust and investment from your team, but also you need that stable sense of safety from the people you love. If your mindset isn’t there, you can’t be competitive.”

Norris has been vocal about mental health in the past, and has advocated for more access to mental healthcare facilities and professionals across motorsport.

“Especially in tougher years where there’s just a lot of noise and turmoil, it’s nice to have a professional coach you to mental fitness as well.”

It was the only notable reference to Norris’ private life, which ended on a low note last year after splitting from long-time girlfriend y/n l/n. The two were originally thought to have had an amicable split, but recent reports hint at a different story, with Norris unfollowing his ex and her friends unfollowing him in return.

August, 2026

September, 2026

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

Part II can be read here! likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

[chaoticbardlady99]

Now and Tomorrow and Everyday After (Sylus x F! Reader) MDNI 18+

Synopsis: In spite of the 'tails' attempts to separate you from Sylus, it only seems to bring the two of you closer.

CW: Fingering, Oral (Female receiving), P in V, Praise Kink, after care, adult themes

Author Disclaimer- I do not own the LADS characters or lore and did use some dialogue from the recent banner's Sylus Card. I do NOT use AI and do not permit anyone else (or any other entity) to copy and advertise my work as their own. Definitely not proof read or edited because I was having “don’t post fear” and just needed to go for it.

Author Note: I made an attempt and this is my first time writing Sylus and posting it so yeah! Thanks for reading- all kind comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated! Remember, to be kind to yourself and others today! I also high key think Sylus is going to this zone to protect MC from Ever cause he makes mention of that but that's beside the point.

 *this is my take on the Night of Secrecy Card. I wanted to fill in some gaps*

You pick at your nails nervously under the warm air of the AC. The city of Linkon passes you by- your eyes flickering to Sylus every so often as he drives you both to one of his safe houses. 

 Your nerves are on fire- not from the danger of whatever pot Sylus decided to stir up, but rather the fact that tonight is the night.

 Or so you have decided.

 And the night meaning boning. You want to bone this man hard.

Okay- wait, it’s probably more like make love to, but you aren’t sure where you stand in Sylus’ life or if his feelings are all that deep.

 And would he even be capable of feeling that way towards you? 

 The thought makes that tight ring of nerves turn into a heavy ball in the pit of your stomach. Sylus really means a lot to you and you feel he shares that sentiment, but you have also been wrong before and it ended up just being a friends with benefits situation. You weren’t “girlfriend material” as you often joked with Tara. 

 But he is having you tag along, you think, he didn’t say he didn’t want you around. He just said he was leaving to protect you so maybe-

 “What are you agonizing about over there?”

 Shit.

“If you changed your mind-“

“No!” You say probably too abruptly, “I’m fine- everything is great, better than great even! Just thinking.”

Sylus chuckles and you don’t even have to look at him to know he is seeing right through. He knows you better than anyone at this point and he knows when something is bothering you.

 You would honestly consider Sylus the closest thing to a best friend you could ever have. You can confide in him, depend on him, and you have a lot of fun with him.

 For the most part, you think he has learned to depend on you, confide in you, and he certainly seems to enjoy himself when he is in your company. Luke and Kieran say they can tell when he’s been with you because he’s less trigger happy with the people he’s dealing with (which you’ll take as a win if you need to find one somewhere). 

 Not to mention- the way his hands were splayed along your thighs last night when he sat you on the kitchen counter was mind numbingly intimate. His fingers drew gentle shapes on your bare skin and left goosebumps in their wake. Sylus’ forehead was pressed against your own and his lips mere inches away, but he didn’t kiss you and you have been thinking about that all day. 

 What if he didn’t want to because he’s just trying to lead you on until you are of no use to him? What if all of these nice things and words and actions are all just to make sure you will still help him and resonating won’t be an issue again? 

 “What is it?” His voice is gentle, “maybe I can help you be less… befuddled.”

 You shoot him a look that earns you a laugh, but you can see the genuine concern in his eyes. Sylus has been so invested in hiding you from the worst parts of his world and now that he’s opened up, he’s worried he’s lost you unintentionally and that all the time you have spent together is long forgotten. 

 You shrink slightly into your seat- avoiding his eyes the best you can and you say your question as quietly as you possibly can.

“I didn’t catch that, Kitten.”

 You say it slightly louder now but still not enough and you can feel the deadpan look he is giving you.

“Howdoyouknowifsomeoneisromanticallyinterestedinyou?”

 It’s all a bunch of gibberish, you had been far more confident of your assessment of his feelings when you were both walking and he was holding your hand. That would have been a really natural transition into discovering this question without any anxiety, but now you’ve had time to think about it and overthinking is the enemy of success. 

 And love, evidently. 

 “How they treat you, I suppose.”

 “What do you mean?”

 “Well, sweetie, when someone is interested in you romantically, they may do things like hold your hand, call you pet names,” he says with the slightest bit of humor, “go to the movies, buy you gifts, play the Claw Machine until it’s dark outside and the arcade owner has to finally kick you both out. Maybe even play kitty cards in spite of losing almost every match because their opponent is a cheater.”

“I am not a-“

 Your brain does a hard reset as you begin to realize what he is trying to tell you. 

 Sylus is telling you ‘yes- I am romantically interested in you’ and the dumbest, biggest smile ever on your face. 

“Was that the answer you were looking for?”

 You nod, suddenly feeling shy, “yeah- that was exactly the answer I was looking for.” 

 The rest of the ride is quiet with one of his hands on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. You watch as the city quickly turns into a distant dream and Sylus’ safe house, not to your surprise, is very very large and it does very little to calm your nerves. 

 “I see owning multiple properties can be quite handy. A smart crow always has a few tricks up his sleeves.”

“The same can be said about having multiple slippers.”

 You turn to him and stick your tongue out playfully, “ha ha, very funny.

“This safehouse doesn’t happen to warm up, does it?” your teeth begin to chatter slightly and your bare legs are littered in goose bumps, “it’s colder than hell in here.”

 Sylus rolls his eyes at you, but begins to walk towards the fire place.

“It is snowing outside.”

 The warm hues of the fire illuminated the room and reveals several boxes scattered about, some opened and others not. The rest of the house looks similar to his main house, but maybe slightly more scaled down. It’s beautiful and it has a great view of Linkon and the mountains behind it. It’s almost easy to forget this is a safe house and not a vacation home.  

 “I’ll leave after dawn. You should stay here for a while.”

 You turn with a scoff, “I know your ‘territory’ is pretty safe, but as I said, a hunter doesn’t like being passive.”

 “Really?”

  You choose to ignore him- knowing all too well that he will suss out your plan to join him on his dangerous little adventure. There isn’t a single thing in the whole world that could convince you to stay here otherwise, but Sylus has his own ways of ensuring things go the way he wants and you don’t feel like waking up handcuffed somewhere for your own safety.

“What’s with all the gifts? I didn’t think you celebrated Christmas.”

 Sylus chuckles, “I don’t, sweetie. I held an… ‘appraisal salon’ not that long ago.

“Would you like to take a look?”

 It honestly is kind of like being in a candy shop, but the candy shop is the black market and instead of delicious treats, they sell guns and while guns are cool (when used appropriately), they certainly aren’t helping you get Sylus any closer to the bedroom than you were five minutes ago. 

“Look at these bad boys!” You hold the unwrapped vintage gun, “this is a classic piece and very difficult to find.”

 Then a stroke of genius occurs.

“Let’s have a contest,” you flash a cheeky grin, “whoever can disassemble their gun first gets to ask the other any question they want.”

“You truly are relentless.”

 And of course Sylus agrees because he’s Sylus and he loves a good challenge. However, you are extremely determined to be the person asking the question and you know this specific gun quite well. You and Caleb learned how to shoot using these guns and you could disassemble it by telling it to.

 The gun is pointed at Sylus’ chin right as he is about to finish putting together his own weapon. You eat up the delicious grin on his face. It makes you feel empowered- he makes you feel empowered.

“First- say the thing.”

He rolls his eyes and gives you a soft smile, “I like your confidence and your determination very much. Now go ahead, ask your question.”

 Uh oh- you hadn’t actually thought that far ahead.

“I’m sleepy.”

 WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING RIGHT NOW?

 Sylus looks a bit perplexed and you cannot blame him- you need to fix this NOW!

“Can you… tuck me in?”

“I thought a certain relentless hunter would ask about my destination.”

You shrug, “I care more about the present than an answer I won’t get. So will you do it or not?”

 Sylus is suddenly swinging you up into his arms and you yelp in surprise, but it doesn’t seem to get the usual laughing reaction you thought it would. Instead, there is a heat in his eyes that you have seen before but could never place what he was feeling until you began to feel it too. 

 “Of course, Kitten,” his nose brushes against yours, “this request is way more powerful than that little gun.”

 Every footstep closer to the bedroom is another step towards you having to be brave and you find yourself studying Sylus’ features as the dim light of the hall lamps barely kisses his features. He is so beautiful- you could probably study him forever and find more things you adore about him.

 He catches you looking and he returns your smile of adoration- flinging your shoes to the side and going to set you on the couch to quite literally tuck you in. 

 And ACTION!

 “I’m not ready to lie down just yet.”

 Sylus cocks an eyebrow, “if you don’t want to lie down, I can keep holding you until I leave.”

 “What if I don’t want you to leave?”

 Your question hangs in the air and it’s hidden meaning seems obvious to you, but then Sylus puts you down on the ground and you realize he may have missed the actual meaning of your words. Is it that unbelievable that you would want to have sex or are you doing a magnificently poor job of conveying that point?

 “We better make the most of our time until dawn then.”

 In the spur of the moment and desire coursing through your veins, you find the courage to push him down onto the couch behind him. With a gracefulness you have never been able to execute before, you straddle him and the way his breath hitches makes something inside you break.

  Sylus’ face is an adorable and sexy pink and his breathing becomes more unsteady in your clumsy hands.

 When your lips finally touch his, it feels as if you have been asleep your entire life until this very moment. 

 Your fingers find purchase in his hair and Sylus pulls you into him- his fingers surely leaving bruises along the back of your thigh. The kiss is filled with passion and desperation- his skin feels like it’s on fire under your touch and every moan against your lips sends shockwaves through you. 

 “You really don’t want me to leave.”

 To emphasize his point- you tease his lower lip between your teeth that makes him feel absolutely feral. 

“S-Sylus,” you pant between kisses, “over there.”

 You anticipated him to be a bit rougher, maybe throwing you down on the bed or something, but he lays you down gently like you are a precious, fragile gift. His hands are firm and confident as he cradles you, needing to have you as close as physically possible. 

 Your clumsy hands make quick work of the buttons on his shirt and loosening his tie. Your hands glide across his chest and your nails gently graze your territory- one of your nails taking the time drag across his nipple. Sylus bites your lower lip in response, his hips grinding into you, and the growl that claws it’s way up his throat excites you. Your heart feels as if it’s beating out of your chest by the time he pulls away and (not so gently) takes of your shirt.

 The cool air is a stark contrast to the heat you feel on the inside- Sylus roams your bare chest and core with his eyes, his fingers hooking into your pants and pulling them down. You help by lifting your hips at an embarrassingly fast pace.

 “Looks like we are on the same page with not wanting to waste any time.” 

 He crushes his lips against yours again, leaving bruising kisses on every inch of skin he comes in contact with. Sylus returns the favor from earlier, his practiced mouth circling your nipple with care. His tongue flicks and laps at the sensitive skin and his teeth are quick to follow, leaving love marks and spit littering your skin before making his way to the the other. 

 You are mesmerized as you watch him- your core wound tight and dripping with need at the sight of him worshipping your body. Leaning back, you close your eyes and enjoy every single sensation. 

 You have soaked the bed underneath you by the time he makes his way between your legs- you are so caught up in his silent worship that you can barely focus on the task at hand.

 Strong, corded arms pull you to the edge of the bed and you jolt from your bliss filled daze- and God are you grateful you have. Sylus looks beautiful between your legs with his cocky smirk and pink cheeks- his warm breath lingers on the sensitive skin between your thighs. 

  With your legs slung over his shoulders- Sylus licks a stripe along your folds and ends at your clit, circling the sensitive nub and making lewd noises that you have only ever heard in porn. No one has truly, properly gone down on you and when they have, it always seemed like a chore.

“Sy-Sylus, you don’t have to if you don't wan-”

 You are cut off when he sucks on your clit, his tongue taking the time to tease the nerves and leave you a whimpering mess.

“I’m not doing anything I haven’t thought about doing for a very long time now,” he kisses along the inside of your thighs, “now stay focused, kitten.

“Don’t look.”

 One of your hands tangles in his hair and the other twists into the sheets. Sylus feasts and laps up your pleasure, his face covered in your essence and his nose breathes in your heady scent with happy, deep hums. His large hands roam your body, keeping your hips down and your legs clenched around him. They eventually return to your sore nipples and those practice, cold hands, become warm and attentive. He gropes and squeezes your breasts in time with his tongue as it darts in and out of your heat, his nose working to keep your bundle of nerves stimulated.

“Sy-” you clench your legs around his head tightly, a string of curse words leaving your mouth, “f-fuck- I’m, I’m-”

 Sylus’ fingers dip between your folds and his tongue returns to your clit. His other hand holds down your hips as his fingers drive you to your first orgasm of the night. Your moans are shrill and untamed- embarrassing almost- but the more you sing for him, the harder Sylus works to get more and more of those pretty noises out of your mouth. 

 When he finally comes up for air, your pleasure is dripping from around his mouth and down his chin. Crimson eyes make eye contact with you and he brings his soaked fingers to his lips- shamelessly savoring the taste of you on his skin. 

 You can barely contain yourself when he begins to crawl along you- your greedy hands using his hands to pull him to you faster. Sylus gazes at you adoringly and you are overwhelmed with your own affections for him. You went from hating him to loving him, desiring him, and at least for tonight, he is all yours. 

“What are you thinking about?”

 Mindlessly, your hand cups his cheek and your thumb traces the spot where a scar should be from your first encounter.

“Am I being too greedy… if I ask you to keep your eyes only on me?”

 Sylus almost looks relieved by your words, grabbing your arm and leaving a plethora of kisses as if to reward you for being open with him.

“You always had that right,” his warm breath and deep tone sends goosebumps of excitement up your spine, “which means… you can be even greedier. Do you want it, kitten?”

 Your breath catches when you realize what he is insinuating and you blink a few times before nodding. He smiles and leans down, but you stop him momentarily. Your mind feels like it is going a thousand miles a minute as you run through every negative outcome. What if you are really bad in bed? What if he decides he doesn’t want to be with you or bother with you anymore after you share such an intimate moment with each other?

“Sylus-”

“You haven’t changed your mind, have you…? You just said “yes?” his voice is desperate, “I’m hoping yes is still your answer because… I just can’t hold back anymore.”

 A wave of want and need flows through you, but before you can continue, you want to make sure this isn’t the beginning of the end.

“If we do this,” you whisper, “if we have this intimate moment together- you can’t just disappear on me. I want you, Sylus. Now and tomorrow and everyday after.”

 The Onychinus leader blinks a few times before the largest smile paints his face.

“Oh, y/n,” he sighs against your lips, “you have no idea how long I have wanted to hear you say those words.”

 Sylus kisses you deeply, his lips caress yours and your hands explore each other- your nails make designs in his back as you try to keep yourself as close to him as you possibly can. Sylus’ clothed crotch is stained in the mess between your legs while he rocks his hips into you. His hand is tangled in your hair and the other is pressing you flush to his sweat soaked chest. The kiss only continues to deepen in passion and need- you barely get him to let you take a moment to breathe. 

“He-hey- no biting here,” you tease, pulling him back by his hair after he nips the skin on your neck a bit too roughly.

 His pupils are blown wide with lust and pent up frustration, “First you want it rough, then you want it soft. You’re a tough one to please tonight, y/n.” 

 You are lost in the depths of his eyes and the pooling of emotions behind them. You forget to breathe until he breaks eye contact to leave soothing kisses over the bite mark. 

“What do you really want?” he uncharacteristically pleads, “won’t you tell me like you just did?”

 While his voice may be innocent, you are far from believing this act. With a smirk, you use your strength to roll him on his back and your hands intertwine with his- keeping them pinned to the bed. The look of surprise on his face is refreshing, to say the least.

 You lean down and kiss him slowly, nipping at his lower lip and eating up the breathy chuckle he releases.

“I told you a hunter doesn’t like being passive.”

“So you want control?” 

  You nod victoriously, certain you are going to be the one in control tonight. Sylus returns your confident smile with one of mischief before he somehow pins you down in the spot he was before. 

 Sylus chuckles deeply, “Unfortunately, I can’t give it to you. Not yet, at least.”

  Before you can inquire about what he means, you feel the pressure of two of his fingers sliding inside your wet cunt. An open mouthed, guttural moan leaves your lips and Sylus just watches- his other hand holding your chin so he can make eye contact. He wants to see your pleasure and know he is the only one you are thinking of- the only one you are seeing.

 Sylus wants you to know- no, understand- that you are his, not anyone else’s. 

 “Sy-sylus,” you plead, “pl-please I ne-”

“Don’t run.”

 Your back arches upwards and you try to pull away from his hand when you feel a warm wave gush and soak the sheets beneath you. Sylus doesn’t relent and quickly coaxes another orgasm from your shaking body. 

“Yo-you’re… so annoying…”

“I won’t deny it,” he crawls off of you with a grin, “I guess you can say I lied. Tonight, you’re not the only one feeling greedy…” 

 Sylus unzips his pants and pulls down his brief- his cock springs free and slaps against his lower ab muscles. Your mouth is watering in anticipation at his size- of course he’s perfect. He’s Sylus. 

 He climbs back on the bed and pulls you closer to him- the head of his cock presses against your folds and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

“I misspoke.”

“What…?”

 Is he changing his mind?

“Greed can never be satisfied,” he places your hand on his chest, your hearts beating in sync, “but you can temporarily soothe it.

“Say it again, y/n, do you want it?”

 Time feels like it stops completely when his eyes meet yours. Your devotion and adoration for each other is magnetic- an unspoken magic between both of you. Your fingers lace themselves in his hair, pulling him to you and you take your time to kiss him slowly, reassuringly. 

“This is my answer.”

  Whatever lust and want that had been held back erupts within an instant. Sylus crushes your lips with his and he slowly glides himself inside of you- your legs tighten around his torso and your whine of pleasure interrupts the heated kiss.

“F-fuck, y/n.”

 Sylus’ pace is both gentle and punishing- you can feel him trying to be gentle, but the more he holds himself back, the more you want him to let go.

“Let go, Sy,” you whisper, “I’m yours.”

 His hips set a punishing pace- your collective sighs and moans are the melody to the filthy sound of sex soaked skin and your hips meeting. His tip grazes the opening of your cervix and his abs stimulate your aching clit. The spongy sensitive spot inside of you is relentlessly stimulated with each movement.

“Such a good girl,” he growls into your ear, “fuck you’re so tight.”

 Your only response to his praise is pathetic whimpers and cries. It doesn’t stop him- if anything, he only begins to praise you more. Sylus is wrapped up in the moment and wants nothing more than to stay in this moment with you forever. You are safe and in his arms- he is finally reunited with you in body, mind, and soul and this spurs him on more, his cock driving into you harder and harder and his hands digging into the flesh of your ass and hips to keep you in place.

 You cling to each other, lips and teeth clashing against each other sloppily as you both lose your composure to the others’ wanting. Your velvet walls clench around him desperately and your fingers try to find purchase on his back, in his hair, anywhere as your orgasm overtakes you. 

 With a few more rough thrusts, Sylus stutters inside of you and thick ropes of cum coats the inside of your walls and fills you to the brim. He lays on top of you with very little of his weight, his face in the crook of your neck. Sylus leaves soft kisses along your neck and sings words of praise that you can barely register. 

 At some point, he gets up and you hear the bathtub turn on and the soft padding of feet. Sylus’s strong arms cradle you- taking you to the now filled bathtub that is more than big enough for two. 

 You straddle his lap so that you can face him. Sylus kisses you slowly while he cleans you- pouring water on your hair, scrubbing your scalp, cleaning the sweat along your shoulders and on the back of your neck. You return the favor, taking your time to make sure he can feel all the love you have for him and how much you care for him. 

 He helps you lotion and brush your teeth- at no point do your feet ever actually touch the ground again. Sylus sets you on the couch in one of his shirts and begins to change the sheets.

“Do you want some help?” you offer, your legs sore, but not wanting to be too much of a pillow princess.

 Sylus rolls his eyes at you, “I’m capable of tackling this mission on my own, sweetie, but I will let you know if another pressing issue arises.”

 You scoff playfully and wait for him to finish making the bed. Sylus picks you up and places you on the bed, you snuggle up next to him as soon as he lies down and, much like when you were in the grasslands, you lay your head on his bicep and he pulls you closer to him. You have never felt quite so warm or safe in your entire life and your resolve only hardens further.

 You cannot allow Sylus to go by himself into the jaws of danger. You refuse to.

 You turn and kiss his bicep, settling deeper into his arms.

“Good night, my clever Crow,” you say with a yawn, “remember not to steal the blanket.”

 He snorts, “I will try my best, kitten. Now get some rest- I’ll keep you safe.”

 You nod- knowing in your heart that you will always be safe with Sylus around- and let sleep take you. You have a long flight and some ass whooping on the agenda tomorrow, after all.

[viiolyns]

abby anderson x reader

cw / somno. ass humping. kinda shit writing.

a soft moan slips past her lips as her small, perky tits press gently against your bare back; puffy, wet cunt grinding against the curve of your bare ass. you stir slightly, your eyebrows furrowing at the unexpected contact, but you don't wake.

you were asleep, and she found herself doing...this, she knew she shouldn't, but the urge was too strong to resist. she couldn’t wait any longer.

she hadn't seen you in weeks. recently, reports of infected had surged, with some even breaching the base's defenses. as a result, isaac had been sending groups out for extended missions, often leaving for weeks at a time. unfortunately, you were part of the last group chosen, and it had been nearly two frustrating months since you left.

frustrating for her and you, mainly her because she missed you like crazy, she loved you so much. you're one of the only people she had left in this fucked up universe. aaaaaaand because she couldn't fucking get off without you.

she wanted to deny the fact, she really did. and she tried, over and over, but nothing worked. not her fingers, not her pillow, not even the very few toys she had tried. nothing worked like you did, only you could make her come. it was humiliating, she couldn't believe she had been conditioned to need someone so badly. she was a grown woman not some child, and yet somehow you had found a way to have that much control over her.

now you were back, which was great. but you were exhausted, crashing almost the second you got back. barely giving abby any sort of attention beside a quick kiss and a promise to satiate her desires the next morning. but she needed more.

she needed you.

...even if this wasn't the right way to go about it.

her eyes are squeezed shut now as she pants, clit throbbing so hard it was almost painful. cheeks dusting a rosy pink as she heard the wet, sticky sounds coming from where you two were connected. shyness, humiliation even, eating away at her because she couldn't just wait a few hours for you to wake.

her nose was buried in your neck, breathing in your sweet scent with every shaky intake of breath. she bit down on her bottom lip, praying to whatever gods above to keep you asleep.

she eventually found a steady rhythm, pussy thinking first as she sped up, any self restraint she had long gone. your body racked with her harsh thrusts and, unfortunately for her, she didn't notice you moving just a bit too much.

"fuck." she whines, chasing that warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. her hand comes up to palm at her breast, squeezing and fondling herself as she imagines it was your touch instead of her own. she presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck, leaving a series of dark bruises behind.

she’s not being very subtle right now.

as abby moved on top of you, her toned muscles quivered with each movement, sending shivers down your spine. her breath came in shallow gasps, each one a high-pitched whine on her lips. it was clear she was close now, so fucking close.

her grip on you tightens, her blunt nails digging crescents into your thighs. that’s when you started to wake up.

“the fuc—abby?” your words cut through her impending orgasm and she freezes. it's when you start to shift some more that she finally starts to scurry off of you.

“i’m so-sorry…you were asleep so..” she muttered sheepishly.

“i was, yeah.” you grumbled, propping yourself up some, taking in the sight in front of you. she was fully naked, tank top hanging around her neck. her braid had come undone, loose pieces of hair framing her pretty face.

you sat up completely, turning to face her fully. your hand came up to cradle her face. “why didn’t you just wake me up, abs?” god, she was mortified. her eyes didn’t meet yours, ashamed of what she’d done. “you know you could’ve.”

she knew this. she nods weakly, attempting to ignore the intense throbbing between her legs, getting increasingly wetter at the sound of your thick, sleepy voice. "didn’t wanna wake you. i’m sorry, baby.”

poor thing…so weak and pathetic. she couldn't help herself. not when it came to her wants, her cravings. she needed you, craved your touch, your control. you could see it in the way her body trembled, her eyes begged. "you just can't get off without me, can you?"

she nods, unable to find any words.

"you want more, don't you?”

another nod.

you lay back down in your spot, eyes closing as you edge back into sleep. "go on then. clean my ass off when you're done."

booooooooo. boringggg and rushed ending. i forgot about this account whoops

[ihavenothingoops]

i know this logically

but…

they paid for me growing up, i wouldnt have had any resources if it werent for them and even if they’re kinda shitty, they are the only reason i had money for life so i feel bad wanting to stop comunicating with them to the point where i have many times thought about once i have enough money to comfortably live without others helping (if i ever do) giving my parent a cheque for raising me and paying for all of my childhood shit bc like they aren’t abusive or horrible just like kinda toxic and manipulative a tiny bit but not a lot and i feel like even if i dont like them they werent bad enough that i can just grow up and leave and not comunicate with them bc i dont really have a reason and theyve paid for therapy and school and medications and even if the meds barely help and they arent sending me to therapy for the right reasons that is my own fault for not telling them shit adn they arent THAT strict and i feel obligated to do somethign for them bc of that and like i know i am under no obligation to love them but i feel like i should cause they arent bad enough for me to have a reason to not love them and some amount of the shittiness is unintentional and a lot of shit is due to my own fucked up brain and not them and even if they dont entirely help that there is at least one kid on hte planet for whom they would be good parents which is better than some people can say and they are pretty accepting (enoguh) and they arent horrible so its fine and i should love them and i occasionally enjoy their company and sometimes while i would rather be somewhere else i dont feel the need to exit the situation and they are somewhat decent parents which is a good thing

Actually, no.

You don't owe your parents/guardians anything for raising you.

You don't owe them in-laws.

You don't owe them grandkids.

You don't owe them favors.

It's your life!

You decide how you want to live it.

You decide what you want or don't want in your life.

[love-byers]

st4 music coding: yearning and miscommunication (& lumax/byler parallel)

alright here we go

this will be long so strap in

(yes this is the post i've been hyping up for like 3 days lol)

there's a song that i noticed plays twice in season 4, in two very similar scenes, and a third that ill talk about later. the first is lucas looking at the hellfire club celebrate, and the second is will looking at mike and el skate ahead of him. i've drawn a few interesting parallels here that i think really strengthen byler endgame. please watch the video above in tandem with reading the post

first of all the obvious: lucas and will are both yearning to be with what/who they're looking at. lucas wanted to be there for the end of the campaign. he asked them to move it, not cancel it. he wanted to be there because he likes being in the club and he loves his friends. and we all know will byers is devastatingly in love with mike wheeler, so that speaks for itself. lucas and will are both feeling rejected, forgotten, unneeded, replaced. they are also both looking at their sibling taking their place. erica took lucas' place in hellfire, and el has taken will's place at mike's side. mike and el were attached at the hip the whole day, and that used to be mike and will. will knew mike long before el did, and before they started dating mike and will were a firm duo. mike and el were heavy on the PDA that day, but mike used to be affectionate towards will too, putting his arm around him, holding his hand, sticking close to him, laying his head on his chest, hugging him, etc etc. now mike can't even hug him. and there's a special sting about your sibling of all people replacing you, and seeing your friends (or crush in will's case) having a great time without you, with the better version of you, not needing you, not even thinking of you. and right there, ladies and gentleman, is where will and lucas are wrong. sure, the hellfire club were happy with erica and about the fact that they won, but they wanted lucas there. the whole reason mike and dustin were upset in the first place was because lucas was choosing the basketball team over them. they accepted that lucas had "gone to the dark side" and went on to find his replacement. they feel like lucas doesn't need them anymore, that he's replaced them with the jocks. and little do they know, that is not true. lucas misses them and yearns to be over there celebrating with them. and though it doesn't seem like it in that moment (lucas' point of view), they miss him and want him there too. they are miscommunicating. the same is going on with mike and will. will feels rejected, ignored, replaced. he thinks mike has basically forgotten he was there. he thinks mike couldn't give half a shit about him. he thinks mike doesn't need him. he will soon find out that that could not be farther from the truth. mike was HOT AND FUCKING BOTHERED. he felt rejected by will. he felt like will was purposefully pulling away. he felt ignored. he felt replaced by will's non-existent friends and maybe even a girl will liked. he felt like will didn't need him anymore, that will was doing great without him. he felt like he had lost will. he, like the hellfire club, accepted (or attempted to accept) that they weren't wanted or needed and leaned heavy into filling that void. (meanwhile lucas' replacement wasn't sufficing, and will didn't even have one). and little does mike know, that is all wrong. he missed will just as much as will missed him. he'd been watching will all day hoping will would talk to him. meanwhile will thinks mike has looked at him like...twice, and so does the audience, because we got will's pov first. this is why the rink o mania fight is so all over the place and dramatic, they're basically running smack dab into each other at full speed. they're both confused because the other suddenly cares about their relationship, and they're both hurt. they are miscommunicating. the hellfire club enjoyed having erica there, but she's not lucas. mike enjoyed hanging out with el, but she's just not will. meanwhile , lucas' replacement for hellfire wasn't sufficing, and will never tried to replace mike at all.

onto more specifc and visual parallels: lucas, el, will, and mike all fake smiles. i really want to stress el and mike, because not a lot of people realize that shot is about both of them. mike is faking a smile too. mike is upset too. mike is trying to appear happy and satisfied too. like y'all please cut my son some slack he was having a BAD DAY. his whole day was shitty too just have some empathy. if you really pay attention, you'll see that mike and el are doing the exact same things in tandem. mike sighs, el sighs. mike fakes a smile, el fakes a smile. mike's smile falls, el's smile falls. they're both trying to conform, trying to pass of lies as reality. "I try to laugh about it, cover it all up with lies... I try to laugh about it, hiding the tears in my eyes..."

now lastly: the scene of max listening to the radio call of the game. this falls right in line with the themes of the other scenes. she feels like lucas is doing great without her, like she's not needed. his life is just getting better and better and hers is getting worse. but she's got it all wrong too. she turns it off when the radio guy says "He must be feeling on top of the world right now". he was not. he was feeling shitty and missing his friends. he was missing max desperately, all the time. and he felt rejected by max, like she was steadily pulling away from him. and unlike the others where the distancing happens because of the miscommunication, max and lucas' happened because max distanced herself, and she was not there to see how lucas was really feeling, which was shitty. and yall already know im byler brainrotted as fuck so its extremely important to me that both times this track is used there is romance involved. in the ep 1 scene the song specifically trails into max's scene, roping her into this coding. mike and will are once again paralleled to a canon, requited, well written couple.

i don't really have any closing thoughts

actually here i have one: lucas and will parallels are the reason i wake up and breathe every day

and another actually

at this point to anyone who truly thinks mlvn are getting married:

and byler endgame but wbk

[thatsexcpisces]

My least favorite placements (personal opinion)

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃

• please remember that these are just my personal takes and observations mostly based on people I’ve met/know and if it doesn’t apply to you, it’s most likely aimed at the undeveloped versions of the placement! 💕

#1: Virgo moons

I’m sorry I have way too many people in my life with this placement (especially family members) and y’all just know how to get under people’s skin. Every virgo moon I’ve met seems to physically be unable to hold back their unwanted opinions and criticism. Y’all will serve the meanest comment on a silver platter when no one asked or wanted to hear that shit in the first place and then label it as “just being honest/trying to help” like nah you’re just straight up being annoying. So many virgo moons are also control freaks and want to project their routines and habits onto other people and enforce all their little rules onto them and expect everyone to accommodate them and their needs without considering other people’s needs. Also, this placement tends to be very insecure with themselves and their own inner critics so must of the time they also protect their insecurities onto other people cause they can’t fix them within themselves and that’s probably also why they dish out little snarky critiques to the people around them. They can also be way too pessimistic and “conservative” which gets on my nerves sm like you take these people somewhere on a night out and they complain about the music being “too loud” or people “talking too much and being annoying” like chill Karen. Stop trying to be a perfectionist babe, it’s okay to make mistakes

#2: Venus/sun/stellium in the 10H

Having this placement on its own in your natal chart is a blessing in a sense because you may receive a lot of good luck when it comes to your public reputation and people like you but personally, I feel like being around people with this placement isn’t as great. A lot of people I know with this placement tend to come off as superficial or “social climbers” who use others for career and reputation benefits. These are the types of friends that will ditch you if you’re not popular enough or if people are gossiping about you because they want to make themselves look good and will ignore you in public but then be your bestie in private cause they don’t wanna be seen with you. They also only seem to always talk about their image or what other people think about them. For example, I know people with this placement who would complain about their social media or followers every time we hung out. They would always complain about losing followers or why they can’t “have enough followers” and what to do to gain many. I had friends with this placement who would also ask for a lot but never give in return and put themselves on a high pedestal thinking they are constantly worthy of praise or deeds from others. On the downside, these people may put a false mask to the public. They can appear as kind and good-hearted when in reality they may not be that way and know how to manipulate in order to get what they want.

#3: Leo/Sag mercuries

I will say that these people are super fun and know how to tell the best stories and they are also very good at making people feel included in their life. However, on the flipside people with this placement seem to live in a world that is only made for them and only has space for them to be in. I’ve met so many ppl with Leo & sag mercuries and it always seems so hard for them to acknowledge the fact that other people have feelings too and what they say can hurt others. They just think of themselves as the main character most of the time which when they do it excessively, it becomes really annoying. I feel like people with this placement just don’t have the ability to be introspective and reflect on their actions and things they say to understand if maybe someone took it the wrong way or if they’re being too much. They also have little to no patience or tolerance when someone else is speaking and they find it impossible to let someone tell their full story without interrupting or sharing something about themself like it’s okay to let others have the spotlight for once (Im a Leo moon so I’m lowkey dragging myself a bit here). Also similar to virgo moons, they may make rude or “honest” comments because they are very direct and when someone expresses that it hurts them, they get super defensive and fail to see it from another person’s perspective. Also talking louder doesn’t mean you won the argument

#4: Gemini Venus

Please figure out what you want omdssss. Being in a relationship with these people is not for the weak let me tell you. I have an Aquarius Venus so in some aspects I get along well with Gemini Venus but in others it’s like I can never read their mind and they’re constantly changing it every 5 seconds. You would expect these people to be very good and open communicators since they’re associated w mercury but most of the time it just feels like they’re on a non-stop adventure with whatever their brain tells them to do and you just have to guess what they want and do it or they’ll get bored of you and ghost you. I know y’all need constant mental stimulation but I feel like most of the time the other person is offering that to you but you just want an excuse to get with someone else. CHEATERS. Especially the men with this placement. Options exist and y’all love that. Also in general and with friends these people can be very flakey they’ll make it feel like you’re their best friend one day then you barely know them the next.

#5: Moon square Mars or Pluto/moon in the 8H

These people know how to get what they want and can be incredibly manipulative. Be careful and try not to play their game cause once you do, it’s a never-ending mind fuck. Many people I know with this placement are the definition of “secret opps” or your “secret haters”. They most likely have a lot of unresolved baggage or problems so they look for any opportunity to hurt someone else and take it out on them (when the placement is unhealthy/undeveloped ofc). Also, this placement to me screams “evil/narcissist” mother. These people probably had a mother that was really controlling or emotionally toxic and they grew up repeating her habits and will continue to act just like her. My step sister has one of these placements and she would do whatever manipulative things her mother put in her head, to other people and report back to her like a dog. These people are usually completely blinded and owned by their mothers. They’ve most likely had life on hard mode and they resent anyone who’s had things going better for them and they find it hard to be happy and supportive of others. Everytime I see this placement in someone’s birth chart, I know not to share too many details with them or trust them that easily cause they know how to hide and are calculated with betraying you.

#6: Cancer Sun

Idk some of them just rub me the wrong way. It really depends on their other placements but usually cancer suns with air placements in their chart get on my nerves cause they can be so passive aggressive and when you meet them at first glance you get this vibe that they’re trying their best to be fake nice to you but they secretly have it out for you. These people are moody asf bonus points if they have a water rising and when you ask them what’s wrong they’ll just sulk in silence and have an attitude until you actively do something to give them attention or make things better. These people also hold a grudge for life and sometimes over the dumbest and smallest things. They’re the type of people to dedicate their whole life to hating you cause you accidentally bumped into them when walking past them. Also their victim mentality is so tiring, they constantly seek attention and validation over small things and have a hard time taking accountability for their actions and admitting they were wrong.

[burningembers91]

Back Alley Bar - Seong Gi-Hun x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Seong Gi-Hun has given up on life, given up on himself. But for some reason, the pretty girl who serves him drinks still thinks he can be saved.

Seong Gi-Hun was a typical example of “like father, like son.” He was unreliable, he was selfish, he was sneaky and a liar. He was the spitting image of his father, and his father before him; a complete and utter lowlife. His marriage had crumbled, his wife and daughter had left him to start a new life in America, and his mother was recently deceased. She’d passed away on the floor of their living room while Gi-Hun gambled away the money he could have used to save her life. 

He didn’t deserve to live, didn’t deserve to still be breathing when his mother wasn’t. She had given everything to her son, forgiven him time and time again. She had been the epitome of patient, always giving him another chance to redeem himself. Gi-Hun didn’t deserve redemption, and while he waited for the devil to collect his dues, he would slowly drink himself into the abyss. 

That was where he’d met you, in some dive bar in a back alley, slumped over the bar with a whiskey in his hand. You were there working part time, using the cash to pay for a university degree. Every shift you worked, Gi-Hun was there, drinking himself into a stupor. Most nights you’d call him a cab home, but some nights you’d drive him home yourself, idly making conversation as you drove through the dark Seoul streets. He rarely responded, but you never gave up. You’d seen more than your fair share of shit in your time as a bartender, but you’d never seen anyone as broken as Gi-Hun. Whatever had happened to him, it must have been bad. You weren’t even sure if he knew who you were; he was so drunk most of the time it was miracle he could remember anything about the previous night. But he knew who you were; you were one piece of light in his dark, dark world. 

He knew you thought he wasn’t listening when you chatted to him in the car on the way home. But he remembered everything you said to him. How you were bartending on top of working full time as a teacher to save up to go back to university. How you’d just broken up with your boyfriend, but you didn’t really mind because he’d been a prick anyway. How your dream was to become a historian, but you were worried you were too old to change career. 

“Why do you do this?” He mumbled one night, as you walked with him to your beaten up, rust bucket of a car. 

“What do you mean?” You asked, throwing your bag into the back before climbing into the drivers side. 

“Why do you help me? I’m no one. I don’t deserve your kindness.”

“You are not no one.” You turned to look at him in the passenger seat, resisting the urge to touch his cheek. This man was so broken, and you had no idea how to help him. 

“I’ve done bad things,” he whispered, “I’ve hurt people. I’ve stolen, I’ve lied, I’ve cheated.”

You took a deep breath, staring out of the windscreen as rain began to fall, battering the concrete around you. 

“It’s never too late to make a change,” you said, although you knew all too well how that was easier said than done. 

Gi-Hun laughed bitterly. “Changing now won’t bring my mother back from the dead. It won’t bring my daughter back from America. It won’t make my wife come back to me.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you stayed silent. How did you help a man who was so broken, so beyond repair? 

As you dropped him off outside his dilapidated apartment, you called to him through the sound of the pouring rain. 

“I’m not giving up on you, Seong Gi-Hun!” You smiled at him, and even through his drunken haze he could tell what a beautiful smile it was. He would never understand why you helped him, would never understand why you’d decided he was worth saving. Everyone had given up on him, but for some reason you wouldn’t. 

A woman like you didn’t need a man like him. You needed someone who could care for you, who wouldn’t leave you broken into pieces as he’d left everyone he’d cared about. But your words echoed in his head as he drifted off to sleep. “You’re not no one. It’s never too late to change.”

Maybe you were right; maybe there was still time to atone for his sins.

[hrnngsoup]

Oh maaan. Oh man this is anti-honey vegan levels of ignorant. Look yeah it's gonna be unpopular opinions, and I am NOT saying there are no abusive-towards-dogs cops out there, but no, k9 forces are not generally abusive.

Here's some facts:

K9 units serve much more jobs than just take-downs. Ever had a recently missing kid? A good police force will call on a k9 unit, which you can give them a piece of fabric or toy to sniff, and then that good doggo will track that kid down. Many, MANY children, seniors, and other people who are lost with mental disabilities have been sucessfully found this way.

Another job they do? Drug sniffing. And yes, I know there have been nasty rumours about cops just training a dog to Mark on a person's bag on command, but besides the trash cops that exist, the drug sniffing training is ACTUALLY very specific and fun for the dogs. I've seen a lot of people over at twitter say they are good at fact checking, feel free to fact check what I just said with unbiased sources.

Most K9's are not just murked when they are retired. This was another rumour. A lot of them are retire with their owners, who form deep personal bonds with them, or are adopted out, in the case of the officer not being able to take care of them... like when the officer has died. The only exceptions are when k9's unfortunately develop the common health problems that german shepherds as a breed are privy to, and their quality of life massively decreases.

K9's are not just "stored" at a precinct in crates or something. They go home with their officers most of the time with only a few job-related exceptions.

It's not actually true that every person who gets taken down by a canine are maimed. Most of the time, it's "hold/release", which still needs stitches, but not even near a maim. but I guess these very common events aren't really covered in media much because they are less sensational....

Calling k9 units on anyone who is not actively fleeing a crime and/or armed is not a thing that happens often. That's a huge waste of money, time, and what, do you think they start off arrests with a k9 unit? No! (Exceptions: when someone has felonies on their record, has been known to be aggressive in past arrests/chases, or have commited grand theft auto)

While this one is only anecdotal, I have never with my own two eyes seen a unit abuse their dog. I have seen many of them baby talk the shit out of their doggos or give them probably too many treats, and well, if you want to see that, I recommend police cam vids. One of my relatives which was a k9 unit absolutely adored her k9, Duke, and she had him for many years after they retired- and Duke was happy and healthy until he passed naturally. A lot of people don't realize that if a k9 unit abused or hurt their dogs, and the other cops saw.... they would be considered the shit under their shoe for the whole precinct.

Now let's talk about why they're necessary in a healthy police force

Ever hear of the terms meth heads, crackheads, etc? These groups of people, if they decide to do crime, are INCREDIBLY dangerous. Drugs of a certain hardcore variety LITERALLY change your brain composition. These are the kind of people that can, and will, run out naked with two steak knives and try to stab anyone around them "because they looked at me funny"... if they are even capable of reason and clear speech in a drug-induced rage. Many do not even feel pain at this stage. There are two ways to stop someone in this state. Gunfire. Or a k9 unit. The good thing about using a k9 is that they are fast, much faster than humans- and that helps reduce the amount of injuries and deaths that occur when something goes wrong.

Humans are instinctually wired to be afraid of dogs. A lot of violence from... really, anyone, is severely diminished when even the threat of a k9 unit being called happens, and when you're facing someone who's weilding a machete, that fricking means something.

Look. I can understand being incensed at anyone who does treat their dogs badly. I am too. But you have to inform yourself on what the facts are, and everything I have said is factual unless someone can prove me wrong which, okay, then i will retract what someone proved me wrong about.

Banning a very important, very life-saving part of a healthy police force is a BAD idea. Note i said healthy police force... there are a lot of UNHEALTHY, CORRUPT police forces that needs from the bottom up reform.

All banning k9 units will do is increase crime and the collateral damage from it, make us lose non-take down services they provide which is VERY important to missing persons cases... and probably increase the amount of german shepherds put down in shelters, ultimately doing much more harm than good.

All k9 dogs are abused hands down if you post any pro k9 stuff on my dash you’re unfollowed I don’t care if we’ve been mutuals for years, you can claim to be anti-cop or a leftist or whatever but if you post k9 dogs with like “a good doggo! A good boy!” fuck off, if I lose followers over this then good riddance

[kisakunt]

THE RICH MAN’S GUIDE TO CORRUPTION

GIVE IT UP FOR LOVE

warnings… i mean some absolute swine talk, gojo and geto are evil men, you’re a sweet and pure virgin. swearing, mentions of fucking, really just vile pig shit.

synopsis… suguru and satoru have a lovely chat over a warm summers breeze. oh! and sweet, un-expecting, vulnerable you is the topic of discussion.

a word from the creator… idk if i mentioned this but this fic is based loosely off the movie cruel intentions! banger film, check it out. i wrote a lot of this chapter awhile ago so if the writing style switches up next chapter don’t sue me. i’m excited!!!! here’s to the next eleven chapters of hell

series masterlist

Gojo hates the heat. He thinks he's tolerated it before on his father’s yacht or when he did an unnecessary shirtless carwash for extra money he didn't need; but right now with the breeze through the window— that Suguru demanded be open— overbearing the air conditioner, he's absolutely positive that summer is the worst.

“Start of the year’s comin’, yknow.” He typically broke the silence— as if he could ever shut up to begin with— and he was almost always met with a:

“No shit.” strident response. Those seemed to be Suguru’s speciality, and provoking them seemed to be Satoru’s.

It’s too hot. His white hair presses into the drywall, feeling much cooler than the air outside. “I’m not stupid, Suguru. Neither are you, you know what I mean.” It’s an overdramatic sigh— a call for attention— as he turns his head over to look at him.

“They’re gonna ask us about it soon.” And, in some way Suguru can’t really comprehend, Gojo sounds excited.

His manner isn’t necessarily wrong, not so much as it is unexpected. The ‘new year, new fuck’ competition of Azabu was practically famous among the young men certain to attend— the sons of the sons who started it, and all their nephews or cousins or any synonym for a pig of a relative that they could come up with. And, luckily enough, they had the privilege to be top candidates.

The competition was started by the current dean’s uncle, a horny fuck-all type who would take any and all excuse to boost his ego while tearing down a girls— or maybe he really did just want a good lay. But, it grew and grew and grew, and now it was almost ritualistic, a second identity of worthiness in the form of fucking a virgin before anyone else did.

Sure, they were nothing but thrilled for it as high school reached an end, or even the first or second year of university. But now it just seemed dull.

But, traditions are custom, and customs are a necessity. It’s almost become lore throughout their little clique of affluence; whispered stories from childhood turned into real competition after a long wait, especially from a group of people who so rarely have to wait for anything. It’s inspiring, they think, means to associate themselves with a lower class; normalize themselves just a little more.

Alumni share stories at functions, putting the frat in fraternizing, nonchalance on the tips of their tongues. Sometimes the tone almost feels dark, and Suguru thinks if he were a better person he’d feel some type of sympathy for the girls. Any fragment of empathy he had wiped away when he won for the first time, though, wide smirk as his year mates glared at him; memories of the tight, albeit idiotic, girl engrained behind the lids of his eyes.

Even so, it gets old quick. And it’s not like they don’t fuck dumb, stupid, silly girls with nothing to say for the rest of the year anyway. So, he can’t quite figure out what Gojo is all too excited about.

“Well try to make sure your dick doesn’t get hard from the thought, you fucking freak.” There’s a giggle from the other man, a scoff too, and he pushes his hand out at him.

This is crucial. This is who they are together. A pair— whether it’s a pair of awful men or not.

There’s also a sense of trepidation that comes with it, of course. It’s exclusive, more so than they already are, and if you do one thing wrong- speak a little too loud, come off too brash, give a lackluster lie after actually getting caught— you’re out. And whose pride would want that?

“It’s stupid we always gotta wait for them to sit us down, it’s not like we don’t know what’s coming up.” He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “Plus, what a fucking weird thing to say to your kid.”

“I mean the whole thing’s odd if you think about it.” Gojo shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets, forearms bare against the linen of his trousers.

He’s right, of course. Even if neither of them feel guilt for their actions, they can’t ignore the sinking feeling in their stomach when their own fathers sit them down and incite such a twisted view on them.

Be that as it may, it’s not too bad when that’s all they know, and it’s not like either of them are going to complain at a quick orgasm, a nice pair of tits, and that goddamn feeling of triumph.

“Do you think they’ll cry again?” Satoru mocks, brimming with glee as he leans in the direction of his friend. “It’s always funny, dontcha think?”

“As if you’d know,” There’s a smirk despite the aggression in his tone. “Dunno why it matters so much to you, you already got bitches babbling about you all the time.”

Gojo sighs, expression bored and childish and fucking greedy. “Yeah, I know but…” His voice peters out, lost in the room. Elation bubbles back into his features, warming his cheeks and animating his eyes as he looks at Suguru.

“Yknow, I heard the dean has a daughter starting, actually. Real sweet gal, even wrote a whole fucking magazine article about the importance of ‘saving your innocence’” his voice wobbles, eyes rolling as he sneers. “for someone you really love.”

“Sounds like she’s ugly.”

“Thought so, too, but..” He trails off, hand fishing in his back pocket for his phone, pupils dilating at the light on his screen. It doesn’t take him long to find the photo; clearly he’s been sitting on his discovery for awhile, anticipating when he could tell him. “Look.”

Suguru doesn’t like to be wrong, much less will he ever admit it. “Holy shit.” You aren’t necessarily the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, probably not even the prettiest he’s seen in the last month, but you were definitely something.

Maybe it was the curve of your jaw or the tint in your lips, but the photo set something off in him. On the surface he thinks it’s the just barely explicit face you’re making in your mirror, phone in hand as you look into your lens, but really, honestly, if he’s searching deep down— it’s the fact he knows you’re the one girl who wouldn’t just throw herself on him if he so kindly asked.

“Sugu, are you ever bored of this? It feels too easy, right?” Suddenly Gojo’s previous excitement feels misplaced, voice itching for more. “Hardest part about it is finding out who’s actually a virgin or not, and that’s pretty simple with how awkward they get.”

“What are you saying?” Maybe he already knows, maybe he’s hoping for the obvious, but he asks like he doesn’t care. The former moves fast, hand steady on the desk as he leans far too close for comfort. In any other situation, he’d probably be met with a harsh jab to the face, but this feels different— secret.

“Let’s do something, on our own, just you and me.” He almost seems too impatient, pressure digging into the ground from the toes of his shoes and gaze begging. It was the kind of thing that made you want to agree, if nothing else to just feel a fraction of the way he seemed to be. Before Suguru could even consider the idea, test the waters and make Gojo beg a little bit, said boy opened his mouth again.

“I mean, unless you’re not up for it. You don’t really seem like the type to make a girl give it up for love.” He snickers, raising the back of his hand to his forehead as he feigns swooning.

“Geto, I— I love you.” His voice is high, wheezy in his imitation and a little rude. “I think.. I think I’m ready- I want it to be you.” He cuts himself off with his own laugh, hand circling over his mouth to try to stifle himself. “Could you imagine?”

“The fuck does that mean?!”

“Cmon, Suguru, you’re not really the endearing type.” He’s edging him now, tone manipulative and pressing and snarky and Suguru knows— of course he knows, but it can’t help but irk him.

“What are you thinking?” And now Gojo’s beaming again, feet guiding him back across the room to his bag, books stacked neatly inside, lying even against each other. He pulls out a magazine and tosses it to him haphazardly before he reaches back for a notebook and a pen.

“Page 36, read it.” The article is cheesy. It’s too long and feels like something right off a self care Facebook page. Suguru is sure he physically recoiled a couple times reading it; especially when you wrote ‘Virginity is a miracle— the ability to show someone how much you love them in such an intimate way should be saved for someone special.’.

It’s shocking that you’re the daughter of the man who oversees their little sex game.

Suguru thinks you’re vile— embarrassing and pathetic and a huge fucking waste of what seems like a really good pair of blowjob eyes. It makes his skin crawl and he verbally scoffs when he reads your finishing sentence about cherishing your virtues, so focused on the arrogance in your punctuation that he doesn’t even hear Gojo’s laugh.

“Pretentious as shit, right?” He snorts, eyes flickered as he recites the passage in his head. “It’s gonna feel so good to fuck the words right out of her mouth.” Suguru didn’t know what he expected from his friend, but it wasn’t that. It’s clear through, through and through, that he’s dedicated to the idea.

“I mean sure, I guess you’ll have your turn. Maybe she’ll fuck just about anyone after I win.”

“Wait, so you’re in?”

“Whatever.”

“Fuck yeah!” He’s joyful, fist pumping into his chest in a quick celebration before he’s holding up his notebook, standing directly across the floor from the desk.

The wood is dark, deep and marbled, glazed over the top and lined with little symbols of power in the form of trophies. It’s clearly something too nice to serve as a welcome mat, but nonetheless Suguru rests his heels on the surface, ankles crossed over each other as he leans back in his chair. His eyes point to the ceiling to look at anything other than the annoyance in front of him.

“Well clearly we need to set up some rules.” He sneers in his seat when he remembers not looking at him won’t make him shut up.

“Okay well we have the obvious: whoever fucks first wins. And I mean fucks, none of that sloppy anal shit. Doesn’t count.” It’s almost funny, but neither of them acknowledge it. If they do, that’ll come hand in hand with the fact they’re acting just like their fathers.

“She has to be sober.” He didn’t really expect himself to say that, but he did expect Satoru to whine.

Gojo lets it sit in the air for a second before he nods curtly and jots something done.

“Would it be too cocky to say she has to cum?” The journal’s away from his face now and someone could, and probably would, argue that the walls are lucky to see the boyish grin he’s got. His smirk pulls up at the corners of his lips, but Suguru just finds it vexing. Gojo is far too full of himself, he thinks, and he hates to admit there’s good reason.

Nonetheless, he has to give him a little shit. “Do they normally not with you?”

“Hey! That’s not what I meant, asshole.” There’s something sweet to Satoru, under all the sickening that is his personality. It makes people understand just why girls fall for him, and definitely helps him keep a good image to the public.

And there’s something smart to him that makes you feel like he could really pull whatever he wanted off. It makes the idea of competing with just him much more appealing.

“Are we gonna have like a— fuck I don’t know— like a time limit?”

“Fuck is this? A video game?”

“I mean no, but competition wise if it takes us like half a year isn’t that kind of stupid? Because who’s to say she won’t ‘really love you’ by then, and then you’re not making her go against anything, yknow?” And there's also something meticulous about him that makes him aggravating as all hell.

“Fine. A month.”

“Just a month?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Plus, anything longer than that and we’d just be a couple of fucking losers chasing after a bitch.” Suguru knows Gojo is giving him a look without even seeing it, the slightly judgmental and almost kind one he does. “What? You’re the one who said it to begin with.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. A month.” It’s silent for a second, comfortable with all their years of each other, before he clears his throat.

“That it then?” Maybe they’re the same kind of evil. Maybe they deserve each other.

“One more, actually.” There’s that feeling from him again, the tone that makes Suguru want to agree aimlessly for no fucking reason other than the possible rush. And before he can fester; before his skin can start to crawl and his hands can get clammy just from that sheer desire in his voice, Gojo grins.

“You need proof. And I don’t mean her saying it, because you can bribe anyone into saying anything. Gotta show it, photo or video or something, balls deep or whatever the fuck.” That almost makes Suguru laugh.

“I don’t think she’s gonna go for that one, no matter how good the dick is.”

“She doesn’t have to know.” Now he’s really thrilled. He doesn’t know what it is, but that lights something in him, stirs in his stomach and causes a little quiver in his brow.

“Fuck yeah, man,” he’s really laughing now, pointing at the journal harshly. “write that shit down.”

There’s something unspoken over them now, a deeper bond than they thought they could have. Neither of them would ever admit it, but it feels like they’re those two high schoolers again, counting down til they can become something fucking great. This is the feeling they’re supposed to get from their fathers’ stupid fucking contest. This is actual competition, a chance to actually win.

A new air falls on them, mixed back in with that warm, rich breeze.

“Okay, that settles that then.” Gojo offers, fingers tapping the binding of his book. “She has to be attending the start of the year banquet so that’ll be an excuse to meet her. Everything from then on is up to us.” Suguru always dreaded that shitty event, but now he finds himself doing mental math to count how far away it is.

Even if the whole thing is trivial, and even if you seem like the most uptight thing ever, Suguru is a man of pride. And prideful he’ll be.

“We still gotta do the ‘new year’ thing, you know. They’ll burst a fucking artery if we say we’re not interested.” His voice is gravelly and calm and so not anything he’s feeling, but he thinks Gojo buys it when he chuckles.

“Can you be excommunicated from being a womanizer? Because I think we would be.” They’re almost joking like everything is normal. It’s different, so much different, but they’re acting the same.

“I’m gonna go grab some water and maybe call one of your maids to make lunch, you want anything?” Suguru shakes his head, shifting in his seat as he tries his hardest not to look at the journal Satoru set on the side table.

“Suit yourself, I’ll be back.”

“Whatever,” He waits after Gojo walks out. Waits a good forty five seconds before he stands up, and he crosses the room in about three.

He glances over at the thrown aside notebook, eyes quick as he scans it. The handwriting is adjacent to messy, scattered and the page is littered with semi vulgar doodles and side bars. It’s coherent, though, and even though they both know Gojo had no intention of giving it to him, it’s got his signature at the bottom.

1. Full fucking!! Penis in vagina

2. No signs of being inebriated. Absolutely stone cold sober

3. If it takes longer than a month after everyone is introduced we’re both “a couple of fucking losers” (< Sugu’s words)

4. Orgasms are important ! Or at least near orgasms (she is a virgin)

5. Photo / video proof. If you can’t get it, you aren’t in it (haha! get it?)

He snickers at four, the uneasy tone in the second sentence almost self deprecating. Despite that, he can’t help but feel a smidge of respect that he ended up adding it to begin with.

He grabs the pen from the table, pressing into the paper too hard as he leaves his chicken scratch of a John Hancock. Okay, maybe this will be fun.

taglist… @moonlight-pearls @sharkerino @echerie