#LOOK.... I KEEP WANTING TO BRAG BUT NOBODY PLAYS THIS SHIT

[elfdyke]

can anyone please behold my crazy luck in pokemon go yesterday. shiny togepi from an egg + the rarest pokemon in the game that we almost didnt manage to reach before it despawned. at 2am. OKAY!!!

[fuckmymunson]

Confidential. — Eddie Munson.

☆ 18+, smut, lowkey hate sex, fingering. | word count: 1.2k

☆ my montly post ;) or maybe I'll find more inspo soon.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Can you leave me alone for five fucking seconds?”

“For what? So you can keep talking shit behind my back?” He asks back, crossing his arms. Leaning against the dirty bathroom wall, Eddie stares at you with a cocky smirk. He isn’t usually this confident, not around you at least. 

“I don’t want the whole school to think I’m your fucking groupie, dude. Just leave me alone,” You bite back. You wish you could erase that smirk on his face. The anger is bubbling up your throat, burning your insides. “Just because I’m the only one who lets you get your dick wet, it doesn’t mean you can go around bragging about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be bragging about it?” Eddie laughs, he has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t you think it would be a juicy conversation topic? You, little miss perfect, fucking the freak?”

“Shut the fuck up. Seriously— or I promise you I will beat the shit out of you.”

“Jesus, you kiss your mother with that mouth, sweetheart?” He mocks you again, again. Eddie is really testing your patience. Lowering his arms, he steps closer, his heavy boots tapping on the greasy linoleum. “I think we both know you look better with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock rather than talking shit.”

“Fuck you. Literally. I don’t even know why I agreed to this,” Done with this conversation that will surely lead to nothing, you grab the doorknob. “You talk a lot of shit when we are alone, but you are such a pussy when people bully you. Just say you don’t have the balls to man up.”

“Man up?” Eddie takes another step. He is willing to chase you if you dare to open that door. “Oh, sweetheart. You know what kind of man I am. The man who can actually make you come, not like those preppy fuckers that share you.”

Your head whips at his words. He couldn’t have possibly said that. Perhaps you are having a stroke. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, cutie. The same whores you talk shit with, talk shit about you too— behind your back, I might add,” His hand takes yours, gently removing it from the doorknob. Eddie bites back a laugh when he sees your expression, how could you be so oblivious? “Haven’t you noticed? Or are you that stupid?”

Shaking your head, you push him— or try to, at least— the action surprises him, but he doesn’t move an inch. Eddie quickly wraps an arm around your waist, pushing you against the wall. He knows what you need, wherever and whenever, he knows what you want. Your hatred has no fundament, you are just a dumb sheep that follows the horde, but he can’t blame you; there’s the need to fit… and there’s the need you can’t escape from no matter what.

“Come on, you know you don’t want to break our little deal,” He whispers.

“Let go of me,” You choke. “You are lying. They are my friends—”

“You know what they say, sometimes your enemies live in your own home,” Nobody says that, Eddie is just making it up to play with your newfound insecurity. “Perhaps you are a freak, just like me.”

Smashing his lips against yours, your hands grope his shoulders. The logical thing would be to push him, to yell and run, but you can’t. Whatever he has, is drowning you. Eddie can make you see stars, and the problem is that he is the only one. A thing that happened by a stupid mistake occasioned by the stupid join you agreed is now escalating and threatening to ruin your reputation— he knows that. You know that. Outside he is no one, but when you two are alone, he makes you feel like you are no one. 

“You talk so damn much,” Your words are weak when his lips reach your neck, when his hands slide underneath your skirt. “I hate you.”

“I hate you too, pretty girl.”

Lifting one leg to wrap it around his hip, you bite your lower lip when his thumb traces the outline of your folds, rubbing the fabric of your panties against you. Keeping you steady with his free hand on your waist, Eddie bites down on your neck, relishing on the sweet cry that escapes your lips. He is so close he can smell your perfume, of course is the one he has been seeing advertised on TV. You fight so much to be perfect that it breaks you how pathetic your yearning is. He quickly finds your clit— now this is true, you know what they say… practice makes perfect— circling it slowly.

“You want to keep it so low, yet the only thing you keep low is your voice when I fuck you in your bedroom,” He taunts you. He hits you in your weakest spots. “Just accept it, I’m your escape— I don’t mind. As long as you are honest.”

“Fuck you,” You spit, buckling your hips when he pushes your underwear to the side. It is an endless battle, not only with him, but with yourself.

With a sigh, Eddie shakes his head, his curly hair bouncing softly. “As you wish, sweetheart.”

Sliding a finger, his cold rings make you gasp. He never takes them off, not even when he fucks you. Eddie says it makes him look cool, you say it makes him look idiotic— and you maintain that thought, even when he is adding a second finger and curling it, rubbing your tight walls slowly. Moaning louder, you clasp a hand over your mouth, if someone finds you, God, you’d be ruined; he, on the other hand, has other plans. Thrusting his digits slowly, Eddie groans lowly every time he feels you tightening. The moans you fight so hard to swallow are a confidence boost, and right now? He wants to hear them all.

“Take that hand off your mouth or I swear I will leave you here,” His threat makes you shudder. What games is he playing? “I’m being serious.”

Reluctantly, you agree. The smile that appears on his cheeky face shouldn’t be as pretty as it is. Now you are sure he is toying with you— yet you can’t be mad about it. Not when he is speeding up, not when he is nibbling on your neck, not when you can feel his erection grinding against your thigh. Being finger–fucked by the town’s freak is already embarrassing enough, so naturally, orgasming so quickly would be even more embarrassing.

“Why do you fight it?” Removing his fingers, Eddie clicks his tongue when you protest. “I could fuck you every day if you weren’t such a bitch,” Yanking your underwear down, he pushes you harder against the wall, spitting on his fingers and returning them to his favorite place. Your pussy greets them back greedily, squeezing his digits and wetting them until you are not sure if it’s dripping down his wrist. “At least I know one part of you actually likes me.”

“Shut up— Shut up,” you repeat over and over, keeping your eyes shut. Your moans flow freely now, urging him to continue. Eddie loves how pliant he can get you, how just a little pleasure gets you this dumb. “Fuck— don’t stop, please.” There it is, what he has been dying to hear.

“I wouldn't dream of, princess.”

[00-jammy-00]

Helloo!!^_^

Could I request a yan who everyone likes? Like nobody would suspect yan!

I guess golden retriever!yan? Maybe darling tries to say something but nobody believes them because they think darling is trying to ruin yan’s reputation ? :33

Btw could I be 🍯 anon?

Yan!GoldenBoy HC’s

Yan!GoldenBoy x GN! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, nsfw mentions, possessiveness, stalking, yan has mood swings, he’s a little bitch.

—————————————————————————————————

Yan!GoldenBoy who was good looking. He could get anything he wanted with a hand through his hair and a flash of his charming pearly whites. He knew he was handsome, he knew people trusted him, he knew all this and he knew it would only make it easier to get you.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who has been obsessed with you for months! He was playing basketball for his school when he saw you for the first time. You were just sitting on the benches, none of that cringe ‘they were reading a book instead of paying attention.’ you were simply watching the game but you looked so radiant while doing it, he couldn’t help but rush over when the game finished.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who tripped over his own feet to chase you down near the exit, he put an arm around your shoulders and flashed that charming smile. He talked to you for a few minutes, making sure to totally not brag about the fact he was the captain of the basketball team, he was really humble you know?

Yan!GoldenBoy Who offered you a car ride home with those gorgeous honey coloured eyes yet was completely shocked when you said no. You said…no? What the fuck does no mean? Who the fuck do you think you are?! You’re lucky he doesn’t fucking kill you!

Yan!GoldenBoy Who just gives you a sweet smile and insists only to clench his jaw when you refuse again. God you’re making this so fucking hard, you’re gorgeous, you’re everything, which means you’re meant to be his for fucks sake.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who vows he’ll never leave you alone. You’re destined to be his, you’re perfect, he’s perfect, so you have to be together, you’re soulmates! He uses a few favours to find out everything about you. Your address, who your family is, where you work, your favourite brand, what your favourite scent is, your zodiac sign, blood type, what hospital you were born at, what cemetery you might want to get buried at. You know, the usual stuff.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who is practically drooling as he jerks himself off to your underwear which he had…borrowed…from your house on his last so called visit. He had cum so much he was having dry orgasms babe! Why do you still not want him?! He could be so good for you!

Yan!GoldenBoy Who sits in his nice car with a pair of binoculars to make sure nothing strange is happening in your room. He’s just keeping you safe, what if someone comes around and tries to steal you?! Don’t worry, your boyfriend is here for you, he’ll protect you. Your boyfriend…god just the idea of being your boyfriend makes him hard all over again.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who doesn’t care if he has to beat the shit out of some people. Your classmate was found with a ripped open chest and a missing heart? That’s terrible babe, but he can be your lab partner now! That one annoying bitch in your class had a bullet between her eyes and her heart missing just like your classmate? How tragic! Don’t worry, you’re safe with him.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who delivers special presents to your door every time a little rat decides to try and ruin his plans. Maybe if he gifts you the hearts from his victims, you’ll let him into yours <3

——————————————————————————————————

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

[bcacstuff]

The conversation Alice had with a fan and you mention that there is stong language tell more about that? Was it her who used it to the fan and was it fan who did that or talking shit about Sam?

I think you meant t write 'slip' 😉

So yes, before all kind of crazy stories start to occur, and this is actually the subject I wanted to address but as well had to think about how to do it in a correct way, as honest as I possibly can but also with integrity.

You see, it concerns DMs, and yes, meanwhile someone showed them to me and I have read them. I could surely have said no, I don't want that, but at the same time, I had 2 Anons claiming Alice had answered fans in DM. I showed you part of the Anon message:

"Alice has been replying to a fan in DM this I know 10000% saying Sam followed her and sent her DM and now she’s posted in London."

The rest was more or less calling Sam out, so i didn't like to post that part.

So I felt a bit in dubio, one side doesn't want to be secretive, the other side is thinking, those are DMs, not meant for public consumption to begin with.

Also, I need to emphasize that I was shown these DMs second hand. There is no way I can verify. I'm not saying I don't trust the person who showed them to me, I'm merely saying, I can not verify how genuine they are, is this really what this person in DM said or not. So I really would emphasize this and keep that in mind when reading the rest of this post.

I'm not literally gonna write what was in the DMs, but will try to give an objective summary of it.

I saw 2 DM convo's, by 2 fans separately and not at the same time with Alice. One DM convo was short, fan asking, she answered, th other was a little longer more a little convo. Both starting with asking her how she got Sam following her. She answered both. (which I have to say I find surprising, it is quite easy to ignore). But okay, she seemed to have answered both of them. Telling how Sam slid into her DMs, now I don't feel that is something new, that part we know (hence I feel I can tell that part). And Anon 2, i don't know when, I just know he started following her on 13 June. She went on with more personal stuff he did and said they DM-ed daily.

But she was also sort of bragging that he invited her to London. Now both DMs were before this weekend. One started on 20 June, and they ended last Wednesday. So nobody knew by then Sam was going to be in London and at the tennis match. My Anon also wrote Fridaynight, before we knew he was in London, but she wrote because Alice posted a picture tagging her hotel in London. And yeah, your question ismy question as well, why on earth did she felt the need to advertise that?

Then in both DMs she suddenly (and imo unnecessarily) said something on Sam's behalve which was not so nice. Something both fans I know felt hurt by. You could say, perhaps he told her about fans harassing women he's been connected with somehow, but from what i saw these fans were not harassing, were asking her something in a friendly way, curiosity, she could have ignored, or simply have given a short answer without all the rest. I feel it was not her place to say something like that on his behalf, whether it is true or not, it was not on her to do so.

I'm not gonna spell out what exactly was said, but it was unkind, hurtful for the (curious) fans, and unnecessary. I know some might have their thoughts about the fans contacting her, and I in no way would encourage anybody to do so (and I surely never did or will do so myself). But that is not a reason to be hurtful and say things on someone else's behalf that hurt his fans.

As said, and i emphasize again I can not verify this all, if that is really what she said. And that is also why I wish not to spell something like that out, here my integrity is at play. I just can say, the DMs didn't look fabricated/photoshopped or anything. But I just can't verify.

Anyway, whatever happened to Be Kind!?

[yenforfairytales]

Terry Silver has a lot of enemies, being the type of man he is (also: money)…but his Number One Enemy isn’t Kreese. It’s Bruce Springsteen. How dare this skinny punk bitch dad-rock loser have first place in Danny boy’s heart?! Why does Daniel love him so much? Why does he wear t-shirts with his stupid face on it and him along to his corny lyrics??

Daniel:…You need to calm down.

Terry: 🔥 🔥 🔥

Daniel: Omg

Daniel walking around like this and driving Terry crazy

Really, Danny boy? Why don't you just tattoo his face on your ass? No, wait-- don't do that!!!!!

Terry thinks it's cute in the beginning that Daniel has all of Springsteen's records and knows all the words to his songs - Daniel knows all the words to any song - until Terry helps Daniel unpack from moving into his mansion and uncovers a box full of posters and tshirts.

Daniel: Careful with those. Oh, hey! I used to hang that one over my bed.

Terry: Which one--

Daniel:

Terry: ................Trash. TRASH. INTO THE FIRE.

Daniel: Terry, no! Get back here!!

---

From that day forward, a day that will live in infamy, Bruce is Enemy Number One. Enemy of the State. The Silver Estate to be exact. Top of The Shit List. That's right, Terry has one.

He could've never guessed that his most dangerous rival doesn't even know karate.

He can't escape him. It's the 80's. Springsteen is still... The Boss.

Terry's tempted to use his connections to get this greasy wannabe outta the mainstream, maybe cause an accident, but he's above this. Daniel is his. He has no reason to be insecure ha ha

Unless--

No no no. Ridiculous. He's Terry Fucking Silver. He can live with this.

---

They're on the couch one evening, looking through photo albums. Daniel loves to scrapbook and put them together. Terry never cared for this kind of thing, his memories not so fond and his family not so warm.

But Daniel puts them together so lovingly and sweet who wouldn't want to flip through a few. They do look good together.

Terry picks up an older album from Daniel's childhood

Daniel: Aww, man, look at these. I went through such a Springsteen phase. I wanted to be him so bad.

Terry: *schooling his features to keep from seething*

Terry: Just a phase, huh? You never take photos like that for me.

Daniel: Yeah, I realized I'd never be as cool as him, ya know?

Terry: Ah--

Daniel: He's still the best, though. Nobody wears jeans like him.

Daniel: Terry? Are you okay? Babe! Breathe!!!

---

Terry sits with his arms and legs crossed. Somehow simultaneously pouting and glowering.

His sweet, gentle Danny boy has been pacing and ranting for over an hour.

Daniel: Why can't I go to the concert, huh?! What's the big deal?? You can't tell me what to do!!

Terry: Why don't you want to stay home with me??? I can sing too, Daniel! I can sing!

Daniel: ....whAT?

Terry: I could sing better than that prick AND play the piano while I do it!

Daniel: I didn't know you could sing. :D

Terry: *turning pink* Well... you never asked.

Daniel: Okay, let's hear it. Sing me a song. :3

Terry: What, now??

---

Daniel brags at length to anyone who will listen that his multi-talented boyfriend sings to him on the regular.

---

Daniel catches on eventually.

Miss Margaret may or may not have left a certain list out for him to find.

But his Boss tshirts always ending up at the bottom of the laundry would have tipped him off.

---

Terry's at his desk in Dynatox HQ when he gets a large envelope signed from Daniel.

Inside is a photograph of his beautiful boy just for him, according to the note inside.

He pockets the note and keeps the photo on his desk for years.

Okay. So maybe, once in a while, a supervised Springsteen concert can be tolerated. VIP seating.

Maybe.

---

It's always a touchy subject and the grandchildren know not to trigger grandad. But one crisis at a time.

Terry: Please. That was decades ago. I bet he looks like a bloated bald--

Daniel: Have you seen Bruce lately?

Terry: What do you mean.

Daniel:

Terry: MOTHERFUCK--

[suguruslut]

Going to a concert

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

<<< 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙏𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪🐉| 𝙏𝙤𝙧𝙖🐅| 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙖🐕 >>>

Gwen’s note: i saw mcr and angele in concert this year...the only thing missing was a househusband to hold my snacks...

🐉𝒯𝒶𝓉𝓈𝓊🍳

--as we know, Tatsu is really into rap music, so when you win tickets to see Agust D in concert, Tatsu flips his shit. dude won’t stop talking about it for all the months leading up to the concert. he actually makes Goda cry one time out of jealousy

--once the night arrives, Tatsu is over prepared, waiting outside the arena a good four hours before the show starts; nobody dared cut in front of you guys, and he was one of the first in line for merch, grinning proudly at your matching t-shirts

--he somehow got all his snacks and water bottles past security?? don’t ask how, he’ll never tell

--once you get in, Tatsu’s leading the way through the crowd with a gentle grip on your hand, making you drink water and sit at least for a few minutes since you’ll be standing and jumping the entire concert. the place is packed, but he assures you there’s no hitmen nearby

--definitely tears up when Agust D first comes out, then REALLY gets into it all while staying within concert etiquette. he sings all the lyrics, which he knows by heart, and it makes you smile to see him so happy and inspired

--dedicates each song to you, even though he didn’t write them; the only time this makes you cry is when he says it before AMYGDALA, his favorite off Agust D’s new album. Tatsu says it reminds him of how bad things were before meeting you, but now that you’re in it together, life and its choices seem a lot less difficult

-- immediately following the show and still riding the concert high... “I bet I can make my own mixtape! I found some great ideas on Pinterest...whattya think of that, Y/N?!”

🐅𝒯𝑜𝓇𝒶𝒿𝒾𝓇𝑜🍰

--Tora strikes me as a heavy metal kind of guy, always head banging and screaming his heart out whilst driving his kawaii crepe truck. when you surprise him with tickets to Beast in Black, he almost crushes your back with how tightly he hugs you

--listens to all their albums the week leading up to the concert, nonstop repeat so he knows all the words to every single song. luckily you love him, so you find it endearing to listen to him scream as loud as he can for most of the day. and pretend he knows how to play electric guitar

--doesn’t want to arrive early bcz that’s “uncool,” so you guys show up just as the concert is starting, Tora shoving his way through the crowd with you using him as a shield

-- “Outta the way, scrubs! A true fan is coming through!”

--literally pushes his way right up to the stage. you won’t be able to hear tomorrow, but how can you care about that when you see Tora’s face light up upon the band entering?

--he really did learn all the lyrics, screaming and singing with a grin on his face as he keeps one arm around you at all times, pumping his other fist in time with the music; you can’t believe how carefree Tora is acting, thinking you should bring him to heavy metal concerts more often

--One Night In Tokyo is his absolute favorite song, but he won’t admit to shedding tears after hearing it live. well, maybe just to you, because you got it on video for blackmail material

--for sure had you take a million pictures of him at the concert so he can brag to his friends (Tatsu) and frame some for your apartment

🐕ℳ𝒶𝓈𝒶🥡

--I can see Masa being very into trendy music, especially Jpop and Kpop. when he hears Band Maid is in town, he blows his last paycheck on two tickets; imagine his shock when you say you’ve never heard any of their songs

--by the time the concert comes around, let’s just say you now know every single song from each album, thanks to Masa overloading you with fandom info. you know each member, their life history, favorite foods, iconic looks, etc. etc. your husband is a major BM nerd, okay?

-- “I can’t believe you’ve never listened to them before! Here’s their first album, which I think was the third best out of all their albums, and here’s a list of the biggest venues they’ve played at, and...”

--should’ve put that boy on a leash...Masa gets lost at the venue at least five different times, always in search of the nearest bathroom and ending up in creepy hallways and surrounded by strangers

--they literally call your name over the speakers to come get him, lmao. once you clip him to your belt the concert starts, and the second the girls step on stage, Masa bursts into tears and squeals, though you’re not sure if it’s because he’s excited for the music or bcz they’re all wearing maid outfits...

--I think Masa would have a great singing voice, so it’s actually pleasant to hear him sing along with the band. you guys had pretty good seats, and Masa was taking endless pics and videos of both Band Maid and you two. before the concert was even over he set his wallpaper as one of your cheerful selfies, concert lights streaming over your faces

--dumbass didn’t even realize he bought backstage passes, and his favorite member, Misa (bcz her name is similar to his), actually signs his t-shirt for him, prompting him to pass out in your arms

--he’s just as elated when he wakes up as he was when he passed out, and will probably never stop talking about the time you two went to a Band Maid concert together

                                                        🐉 🐅 🐕

[sailor-kaiju]

@razorblade-skies asked me to explain my examples from the comments, and I didn’t wanna lose it in the little reply box on my phone

This will be HELLA spoilery, obvs.

And yes I’d loie to babble more about them |D

This is my list for people wanting more examples:

Momento-

Momento is a movie about a man who has no ability to make new memories who is trying to hunt down his wife’s killer through hints he has left himself. Throughout the movie we are shown and told realities he doesn’t know, but we don’t have the context for them, especially with unreliable narrators. When you realize that he accidentally killed his wife by giving her too much medication because of his memory issues, many earlier scenes are VERY different.

Perfect Blue-

Perfect Blue is about a Japanese Pop Idol who quits her singing job to become an actress.

there are a few possible, VERY different meanings to the same set of events. Depending on which one is real, you may be seeing one very different thing unfolding than what you think.

Steven Universe-

It has been a minute since I made this post and some of SU is not as fresh in my mind as when I made the OG comment BUT I believe I was talking about the identity of Pink Diamond. There are a lot of massive spoiler level hints before you have the context (especially about Gem culture” to understand.

6th sense-

“I see dead people.” Told to the dead person he is looking directly at.

There’s more but honestly…that’s pretty dang on the nose.

Devilman etc-

A guys weird ass bestie makes him a not-evil monster to fight evil monsters. His bestie is secretly Satan. This is shown a lot before you’re told but also nobody assumed that shit was on the table.

Even tho it’s called Devilman and maybe we should have.

A lot of the anime influenced by it I mentioned also plays with “The big, true enemy is in plain site and usually bragging about it.” vibe. Special mention to half of Clamp’s work.

Shout out to Evangelion, the classic fucked up robot Kaiju anime which may be like 50% “none of this makes sense until it all makes terrible sense” tbh

The Others-

The Others is about an Edwardian mother and her children, who both have a severe sensitivity to light, living alone (besides a three house workers) in a giant house the mom keeps locked tight in these intense layers to keep the light away. The father is away at war, and mom is clearly already at whits end when they start being haunted, the doors left open, etc

The whole movie has the vibe but particularly a scene where the father comes home and has a strange conversation with the mother before just…wandering away.

Turns out they are the ghosts. The father died in the war. He was coming to say good bye but couldn’t communicate with her because she was no where near accepting being dead.

Westworld (The TV show, I have not seen the old movie)-

A company opens a theme park where perfectly human robots act out western fantasies for rich guests.

While there are interesting mind games with the “who is robot who is human” angle, this happens a lot more with time shenanigans. About half way through the show you suddenly realize what you thought was all one time line (assumed naturally by viewers relying on the fact that a good chunk of the characters aren’t aging)

In fact it is several time lines over MANY years, and multiple “different” characters are actually the same guests coming different years and playing out different fantasies. the robots (the majority of the character’s) don’t age and have their memories regularly reset.

Including the love interest (coming his first time in his 20s and playing out a romance story) ALSO being the awful villian (visiting in his 60s, bored with the normal plots and now playing an evil run)

Bonus point: the Robots are literally programmed to this trope. If they see something that would break their illusion (a picture of a McDonald’s for example) they can’t process it. “It doesn’t look like anything to me.”

Arrival is also a good example. Alien ls come to Earth, and create a story line where time is fluid in ways we don’t realize at first.

oh i never know how to explain this properly but i looooooooooooooooove when a story just absolutely TELLS you something and it’s so obvious it goes right by you. like the equivalent of hiding in plain sight. i’m thinking in the original cut(?) of alien where they showed the full xenomorph, crouched and ready to pounce, but because we’ve never seen it before, we can’t tell what it is and interpret it as part of the spaceship. or it’s a detail that seems so out of place or wildly insane that you automatically ignore it and assume you misinterpreted until that exact detail comes back in a big way? (like when noah the raven boy flat out tells everyone he’s a ghost and they take it as a joke, so the reader does too) is there a tvtropes name for this i’m obsessed with it

[aizawaskittenwhore]

𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

≛ 𝘧𝘵. 𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰, 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰, 𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪, 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴.

≛ 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵. 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵.

≛ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴: 1𝘬

≛ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢 /𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘥𝘰𝘮 (𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪), 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 18. 𝘥𝘶𝘩.

𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶:

i’m gonna be honest

that whole “innocent bby deku🥺” shit is played out. this man will demolish your pussy and will not apologize for it.

izuku has the full capacity to be rough in bed, so don’t let his sweet and demure presence fool you

he’s really into overstim surprisingly enough

watching you stir and keen as you cum again for the third time in a row fills him with a sense of pride

knowing nobody else could make you whine like this, make you sputter and stumble over each word, make you cream all over the dick the way he does

he also adores fucking you to the point where you can’t form a comprehensible sentence

he’ll give you deep, slow strokes while holding a bullet vibe directly to your swollen clit, pine eyes sparkling as he watches you plead for him to stop, yet buck your hips into him, chasing another orgasm.

calls you bunny instead of puppy bc ew

“you’re so insatiable, bunny. you like it when i—ah, fuck!—tease your pussy like this? ‘like it when i take what’s mine?”

the pleasure is overwhelming, insurmountable as he brings you to that prepice over and over again until you’re crying.

he’ll then flip you onto your stomach, hands digging into the dimples and slopes of your hips before absolutely impaling you on his length

he’s thick, and comes in at a solid 6-7 inches, so you’re always sore after a round or two

also

breeding kink. like a major one.

izuku wasn’t always the most confident in his abilities as a boyfriend let alone a lover

so when you started letting him cum inside you it was a huge boost

likes breeding you before work so he can think about the guys that hit on you in the break room smelling the scent of sex all over your body as you walk past them, sticky white fluid creeping down the leg of your pantyhose.

he couldn’t keep other guys from looking at you, but he could damn sure remind you of who you belonged to.

oh, and he’ll slide two fingers in once he’s done and scoop as much of his cum between them as possible before slipping them in your mouth so he can watch you suck it all off

this mf is possessive and nasty.

𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰:

facefucking.

that’s it. send tweet

nah but in all seriousness, katsuki loves watching your eyes well up with tears as you squeeze and milk his dick for all it’s worth.

he’s a good 7-7.5 inches

not an insane amount of girth but the length more than compensates for it

most definitely uses it as a punishment

and isn’t afraid to do it while you’re in public either

which brings us to his exhibition kink

he’s very prideful when it comes to his reputation as a hero, so you would think that it would keep him from doing anything scandal worthy

wrong

it only adds to the searing arousal he gets from watching your tongue fondle his sensitive head, knees bruised from being beneath him for so long

it’s a power trip for him, especially if he’s in costume

depending on your behavior, he’ll be generous and let you swallow while praising your performance

or he’ll wrap a hand around the back of your neck, slide your mouth off of his spit-soaked cock, and stroke himself until his cum splatters all over your eyelashes, fully debauching you in the desolate alleyway

he’s made you walk back home with cum all over your face before, after you’d been particularly bratty over the course of a week

“katsuki! i can’t walk back home like this, what if someone notices?!”

“should’ve thought about that before you decided to visit me while you weren’t wearing any fuckin’ panties. nasty little girl...now hurry up and get a move on, and you better not wipe it off either.”

loves the thrill of humiliating you

unrelated, but he’s an ass man through and through, taking such pleasure in watching it jiggle and ripple under each heavy blow he delivers

takes photos of the marks afterwards and has an album for em.

he also loves fucking you on different surfaces around your penthouse (and his agency)

the man is territorial

so what better way to mark his territory than by making his gorgeous girlfriend squirt and cream all over it?

𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰:

babe i am so sorry for your neighbors

cause if there’s nothing else shinsou loves it’s to make you scream

he’s got a corruption kink, but not in the way most people do

he doesn’t give a damn if you’re sweet and innocent, or if you’ve got the mouth of a sailor and could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch

what matters to him is making you lose your composure.

one day you’d been anticipating a call back from a job interview you’d gone to a few days prior

and shinsou just so happened to be observing your blissed-out expression as he ground into you from below, your body atop his

when your damned phone started ringing

being the sly little shit that he is, he saw an opportunity

“answer the phone pretty girl...don’t wanna keep them waiting, do you?”

reaching for your buzzing cell, you press the green ‘accept’ button, raising the device to your ear as you jolt forward

“hello, may i speak to y/n?” a chipper voice chimed through the receiver.

“t-this is sh-she. how can i—ah!—help you?” you garble your words, trying to suppress your moans

hitoshi merely takes this as a challenge, opting to drive into you deeper whilst trying to keep the noise down, it’s less fun when it’s obvious what you two are doing

his dick is thick as FUCK. 6 going on 7 inches but honestly you couldn’t give less of a fuck with the way he’s stretching you

surprisingly enough you managed your way through the phone call, telling the white lie of “helping the neighbors move”

but little did you know this was only the beginning of hitoshi’s new favorite pastime

he’s another exhibitionist too

so uh...good luck with that

remote control vibrators on dinner dates, fingers stuffed deep inside your sloppy cunt while he makes small talk with your mom at the dinner table,

even kneeling beneath your desk and sending you to heaven and back while you’re on a video call with your fucking boss.

he’s addicted to watching you fall apart, and is more than willing to apply that pressure.

𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪:

dabi’s dick would fuck anyone stupid.

let’s make that clear.

it’s canon that he’s got a jacob’s ladder, blah blah blah, but let’s discuss how fucking pretty it is

creeping in at a firm eight inches, and about 4 and a half in girth with a drool-worthy mauve tip, his shaft slightly lighter than the rest of his tanned, unscarred skin

it’s dangerous, barbells running up the underside of his shaft or not

definitely into temperature play

and i’m not talking about that soft shit like warming up his fingers whilst they’re plunging in and out of your sweet center

no no no

that fucker will BRAND you and will not apologize

you’re his pretty little cumdump, and he’ll stake his claim upon your body how ever the hell he pleases

degradation is a given.

“—what a fuckin’ whore. tch, you really think you deserve this dick?”

“how about you get on your knees and beg for it then if you’re so damn needy.”

“quit your god damn whining, or i swear i’ll leave you spread out on this fuckin’ bar for shiggy to find. maybe i’ll even get a promotion for giving him such a slutty little bitch to use.”

“what’s wrong? does it hurt sweetheart? can’t take it after you talked all that shit earlier?” you shake your head no, thighs trembling as you struggle to maintain the position dabi’s folded you into. “...good.” he smirks, eyes gleaming with malice before pounding you to filth, cries spilling from your mouth as you beg for release, knowing he won’t give it to you.

making you cry? a specialty of dabi’s. your tears get him harder than anything; to watch your lips quiver as you sniffle, wiping away tears while he palms himself through his sweats

has shown you off to shigaraki, and will not hesitate to tongue your fluids off his digits while carrying on a full conversation with the other man.

after all, when you know your toy’s better than someone else’s, you tend to brag.

𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪:

speaking of this mf

he’s the reason gamer boys get the rep of having massive dicks

cause god damn did you not expect this man to be slinging around eight bordering on nine inches of dick. four and a half to five inches of girth. poor you.

he’s also got a penchant for angry sex, so if that’s not enough of an indication that you’re going to have trouble walking afterwards i don’t know what is

but one thing he loves more than taking you apart piece by piece and cumming inside of you with zero remorse?

doing it when he’s in the middle of a game, and he’s online with the party’s voice chat.

“mmm—god, you really will do anything i tell you....swallowing every inch while these guys get to listen, and you’re not even embarrassed, you’re getting off on it!”

“i love little sluts like you, always doing whatever it takes just to have a cock pry them open at all times. that’s what you are, right? my little slut, made for me to do whatever i want to.”

yes, he’s made you whine so sweetly for him, cry as you beg him to touch you, while he plays fucking valorant.

and you can’t count how many times he’s mocked the way you gag and choke on his massive length while he played genshin impact with random guys online.

is a sucker for a good set of nudes, and isn’t afraid to ask for them on a regular basis

plus he just likes taking pictures/videos of you in general, saving them to a private album of his phone for him to use when you’re not there

he may parade you around as though you’re a lifeless fuckdoll, but if nothing else he’s possessive, and would rather relive the pain of losing to all might than let another man see you the way he does

but i’ll be honest, tomura’s not always a teasing, possessive, vindictive asshole with a huge dick.

he’s also a teasing, possessive, vindictive asshole with a thing for being dominated....and a huge dick.

see, it balances out!

it started with a bet that if he lost another round of mortal kombat you got to peg him

it took a lot of convincing, but he agreed to the terms, certain he’d win regardless

and after button smashing like your life depended on it with subzero, you managed to secure the win.

a grin stapled itself to your face after being treated to two hours of tomura’s incessant sobs and wails

“mhm—please...i can’t take it—ah! fuck, fuck, fuck! right there!”

“don’t make me work for it, i promise you’ll never be player two again, just please let me cum—m’ so close..”

game nights are always fun with him, you can count on it.

𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴:

my god my god

i’m gonna say it right now: keigo doesn’t eat pussy for you.

he does it for him.

and that makes all the difference in the fucking world when he’s pulling you to sit on his face

scruff scratching at your inner thighs deliciously as he makes you squirt alllll over aforementioned facial hair, rolling your hypersensitive clit between soft lips and a fluid tongue

he could stay between your thighs for hours and hours on end

will propose to devour you in the most inappropriate of places

and honestly? isn’t the least bit ashamed about it. elevators, in front of large office windows just a few stories above the street where you’re just barely visible to the people below,

on endeavor’s decorative towels after he spread them out on the floor so he could fuck you senseless on top of them, etc.

the flame hero had pissed him off earlier, and he needed to exert some petty rage. this was most sensible use of his energy.

also in case it wasn’t obvious: breeding kink. duh.

no thoughts head empty just hawks begging to breed you during his rut

“come on pretty girl, let me make you a momma....can’t wait to stuff you full of my chicks....”

he blushes so deeply when he’s close to cumming

and boy does he fucking whine

dick is just as pretty as he is, he’s a good 6 inches with a three inch girth; tip flushed and pink

definitely cherishes intimacy during sex

and will certainly go out of his way to make sure you feel comfortable/desired

he could have all the money/fame in the world

and it still wouldn’t compare to the feeling of your thighs suffocating him while he slurps at your cunt like it’s his last meal.

[i-used-to-wear-the-fedora]

Stranger Things Egg Baby AU, Lessons in Love and Life

If there was one plus side to having a messed up leg, it meant Eddie didn't have to participate in gym that day. The metalhead sat on the bleachers with his leg stretched out (as ordered by the doctor note he'd faked in home room that day). While the rest of the class played dodgeball, Eddie focused on finishing the math homework he didn't have time to do the night before. Eggy Pop was thankfully with Harrington at the moment so he didn't have to worry about the anxiety trip that would he protecting and egg from stray dodgeballs. One of which had almost "accidentally" hit in the head.

"Hey Munson." Eddie looked up from his homework to see Tommy Hagan grinning as he took a seat next to the teen. "Sorry about your leg, what happened?" The fake concern dripped from his voice.

"What do you want Hagan?" Tommy Hagan was Steve's (now possibly former) best friend and a total douche canoe. The only time he ever talked to Eddie was either to insult him or buy poppers. Considering they were in the middle of gym class, it wasn't hard to figure out which the other teen was here to do.

"I hear you came to school with Steve this morning. "

"Yeah, and?"

"Well I just think it's kind of weird. Steve never let's anyone in his car...except his girlfriends."

"My van broke down." Eddie lied, trying to focus on his worksheet. He really didn't want to get in a fight right now. "We're working on a project together, it's no big deal."

"Really?" Tommy snatched the paper out if Eddie's lap despite the taller teen's protests. "See, I think maybe last night you hurt your leg sucking Steve's dick. He's so desperate after that Wheeler bitch he'd go for anything. Even a freak like you." There it was. The not so clever homophobic insults Eddie had come to expect from Steve and the other popular kids. The metalhead rolled his eyes as he snatched the paper back.

"Oh wow, you're so original Hagan. It's so funny I almost forgot to laugh." The school was well aware of Eddie's preferences after a party last year when he'd been caught making out with the Swedish exchange student by Carol Perkins. By the end of the next day Eddie Munson was somehow even more of a social pariah than before. At least Lars got to go back to Sweden without anyone knowing about him while the metalhead was forced to re experience his senior year all over again. Eddie had tough skin but man did he get tired of hearing the same stuff over and over again. "Trust me, if I sucked Harrington's dick, everyone would know about it by now. You two love to brag about that shit."

Eddie was surprised by the look Tommy gave him as the jock reached over and pressed his hand into Eddie's injured leg.

"You stay the fuck away from him. Steve's way too good for some druggie nobody like you. Hargrove too. I've seen the way you were staring at him yesterday. It's fucking disgusting."

Eddie winced in pain as Tommy finally let go of his leg before getting up and rejoining the game.

"Fucking asshole." Eddie muttered under his breath.

~~

"-I'm telling you dude, these new miniatures are bullshit. They're not nearly as detailed as the old ones and the paint doesn't stick as well. Plus they're way too expensive!"

"But the redesign is so much cooler! Listen, I'll show you this beholder one I've been working on-"

Steve had fallen behind Dustin and Eddie as the two kept talking about the weird Dungeons and Dorks game. Initially the curly haired middle schooler had been pissed when Steve had brought the new guy with them to try and lure Dart out but as soon as he realized they both played the same dorky boardgame, they got on like a house on fire. Leaving a path of raw meat along the railroad tracks towards the junkyard to get the demogorgon to follow.

"Think daddy's ignoring us?" Steve jokingly asked the egg in his shirt pocket. The egg's happy sharpied on face stared up at him blankly.

"So, Stevie told me you tried to keep this thing to impress a girl." Steve looked over at the metalhead saying his name.

"Yeah, Suzie. She's super cool and like really smart but I don't know what to say to her. I mean how do you tell a girl you like her?"

"Well I'm not exactly versed in the girl department but maybe you could just tell her that. How hard could it be?"

"Ugh, yeah, gonna cut you off there Munson." Steve interjected. "You can't just say you like a girl. They want you to be romantic. Wait until you feel it."

"Feel what?" The middle schooler asked as his face scrunched up in confusion.

"It's like before a storm. You can feel it. Like electricity. "

"Electromagnetic fields in the air or-"

"No like a sexual electricity. " Steve clarified.

"Oh. Then I kiss her?"

"No, you don't just kiss her. Well with most girls. Some like that. "

"I like that. Sometimes people won't know what you're thinking unless you say it outright." Eddie eyed Steve as he said it. "Sides I don't think the Harrington experience is universal. Not everyone can hypnotize a girl with that magic hair of yours." Eddie leaned back and rustled Steve's hair with his fist until the other teen swatted him away.

"Hey watch it, this took me almost an hour to get it perfect." Steve said and Eddie slinked away from his partner.

"Just be yourself kid. If it was meant to be, it'll be. Weird intergalactic space lizard or not. You don't need three cans of Farah Fawcett hairspray to impress someone you like-"

"Oh my God, you promised you wouldn't mention that to anyone." Steve whined but Eddie just smirked at him as he teasingly poked at the taller boy's side. (To be fair, he was only taller because of the hair) Neither of the teens paying attention to the way Dustin was looking between them.

[vallygirl285]

Can The Rational Fans of SPN Please

STAND UP AND TAKE BACK OUR FANDOM!!!

Okay I'm going to say right up front to anyone who follows me if you're offended by this post, I'm sorry but I can't stand what the obnoxious part of this fandom has done. This is a long ass rant too so I'm sorry and you can ignore it all you want.

No I'm not just singling out Destiel, Hellers, Wincest, JA, JP or MC fans because newsflash every aspect of those fandoms has so many assholes that they all make it miserable for the rest of us.

I'm not into Destiel or Wincest...I don't ship JA & JP...I don't ship JA & MC or JP & MC. I'm not a J2 or Tinhat...I may not care for DA or GP as actresses but I don't think they're 'beards' either and dear god in heaven if Jensen truly was gay and needed a beard I like to think he has better taste than what he married but sadly these ships are the loudest and make so much of the fandom unpleasant.

Do I think these three men are friends in real life...I don't really know and I don't really care because it doesn't change my enjoyment of the show either way.

I'm sorry if you're so needy for acceptance or whatever your issue is that you need a TV CHARACTER to show your representation for your sexual orientation but that is your problem it's not the creator of the show, the actor who portrays the character or the network problem...it's yours.

Here's a quick recap of what Supernatural is about since this seems to continue to get lost in the shuffle. It is a show about two heterosexual brothers who have an unhealthy co-dependency on each other because of a tragedy when one was six months old and one was four years old and father who put way too much responsibility on that four year old to protect his baby brother. It's a show about hunting the monsters that caused the tragedy.

So in a nutshell DEAN WINCHESTER was never written as gay...bi...or any other thing you need the character to be for whatever your personal reasons are.

There are plenty of shows with characters that are gay, bi and lord knows what else you're into...pretty much anything goes now a days and there's enough shit shown on cable to cover it.

If you want to watch two men together watch shows like Roswell, NM or Teen Wolf (I know there are others...I just can't think of them and they don't matter to me so I'm not looking them up).

Also can people take a fucking chill pill...Jared and Jensen responding to that question about Castiel's confession wasn't homophobic...seriously this is the biggest problem in our society. Nobody can accept anyone else's thoughts or opinions if they don't mesh with their own and claims the other person must be a bigot.

See this is why I've been bitching since the 80s when suddenly every child began 'making the team' and 'getting a trophy' or when they were playing they didn't keep score because they didn't want the other children on the opposite to feel bad.

It's so unrealistic and this is why we have adults now who can't fucking accept not getting their own way and have hissy fits about every preconceive slight against them.

Newsflash actors don't owe you a damn thing other than to entertain you. They aren't responsible to 'represent' you unless they choose so on a personal level.

And yes I'm sorry I do agree MC is a huge part of this issue because he has played to that side of the fandom for his own personal reasons (mostly to make money and I will admit to being Anti-Misha) but again seriously people who 'brag' about the Cameo he did for them and 'stated' Destiel was cannon in said Cameos.

OMG...you fucking paid the man to say it. He's an actor and he's reading some lines you sent him with your payment. You could send him a request to say he saw a leprechaun doing the Electric Slide down a rainbow...just because he says what you pay him to say doesn't make it real.

How sad is your life that you need any actor or actress to 'speak' to you via Cameo to justify anything in your life. I'm sorry I adore Alona Tal as an actress but I wouldn't pay her $1.00 to say a single word to me on that site because it's not real...it's all smoke and mirrors. It's not meaningful in any way, shape or form.

I don't care truthfully...I get actors are supplementing their income with this thing but that is all it is for them and any who claim otherwise is full of shit. It's another revenue stream for them and so what. I don't really have a problem with it but I do have a problem when you have fans who can't tell the difference and actors who encourage it.

Also can people stop with their idiotic 'conspiracy' theories while we're at it. Like Sigmund Fraud said, 'sometimes a cigar is just a cigar' and a flannel shirt is just a freaking flannel shirt. Seriously if you people put half those thoughts into things that really matter than trying to find 'hidden meanings' in the color of a shirt, the way somebody held their coffee cup in a scene or any of the other ridiculous 'observation' that come across my feed because honestly I don't even think I can add enough filters to stop this crap from hitting my feed that would be lovely.

To recap, I love the actual show...the one we watched for 15 seasons...not anyone's interpretation. I'm actually a fan of Jared and Jenson as actors. I also like a good chunk of the other actors who were on the show too (minus Misha, Kim, Chad and a few others).

Ok my rant is over...I know it's not going to make a difference other than my need to blow off steam because I have to trudge through so much crap on my feed.

[skinnyducky]

excuse me, i love you // v.h.

requested by @thatmultifandomlovingmf

a/n i hope this lives up to your expectation ! i had an idea prior to writing this and i thought it would be nice to sort of mingle the two ! sorry, if this wasn’t what you wanted ! and also same, i still don’t know my ff terms that well either :D

Word Count: 1535, edited

WARNING: fluff, language, fluff.. and more fluff.

---------

Vinnie and you were chilling in his room, lying on his bed. Well, at least he was chilling. You were cuddled into his side and fast asleep—college will do that to you. He took this chance to admire you. He truly loved everything about you, and it made him think: how was he so fortunate to have someone like you? Sure, you’d been best friends for a long time, but that didn’t mean anything—at least to him it didn’t. This thought danced around in his mind, and he recalled back to the event that started your relationship…

 Two years ago…

 It was a Friday night and Vinnie was sitting in his room, scrolling through Instagram and liking whatever random photos popped up on his feed. This wasn’t how he typically spent his Friday nights. Normally he’d be with his best friend, you. However, due to a series of unfortunate events—aka Jackson Dougland asking you out on a date—he was left to his own devices.

As he sat at the edge of his bed, he wandered why him? What made Jackson Dougland so great that you actually entertained going on a date with him? He was just your average dimwit who cared more about his sport achievements than anything else. You deserved better than someone who was just going to use you as a trophy; you deserved Vinnie—or at least that’s what he thought.

Vinnie was unsure of when and why he started to develop a crush on you. Maybe it was because you’re the only girl who really understood him, maybe it was because you’ve been best friends for years, or it could be from the fact that you appeared in every one of his dreams—and that includes the nightmares with Elmo. There was just something about you that made his love for you shift from platonic to romantic, and he had no clue why. He couldn’t tell you that though. For one, it’d be embarrassing if you rejected him. And two, he couldn’t bare to risk your friendship. So, he thought it’d be better to conceal his feelings than to let them pour out.

As he mindlessly stared at his phone, he heard a slight tap at the window. He fell into confusion as he looked over to see nothing there. Shrugging it off, he went back to looking at the small screen in his hands, but once again, there was a tap at the window.

“What the hell?” Vinnie muttered to himself, getting up and going to check out the ruckus. He opened the window and stuck his head out, finding no sign of where the tapping could’ve come from. That was until he was hit in the face with a pebble.

“OUCH, dammit!” He shouted as he rubbed his throbbing cheek. He looked down to see who the culprit was, only to find you standing there. “Y/n? What the hell?”

“Sorry,” you sighed. Vinnie noticed something different about your demeanor. Normally you were happy and cheery, but right now you were the complete opposite, from the slight frown on your face to your hunched stature.

“Can I come in?”

Vinnie nodded and rushed downstairs to open the door for you. Letting you in, he led the two of you back upstairs and into his room. Once you were inside, he shut the door and watched as you plopped down face-first on his bed.

“What’re you doing here?” Vinnie asked, leaning against the door. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your date with Dougland?”

You let out a groan and sat up, looking your best friend in the eye. “I was, but then I found out he had other motives.”

“What do you mean by ‘other motives’?”

“He didn’t really wanna go out with me. He was just using me for sex.” You said, fiddling with your thumbs. “I was just another notch on his belt; another girl he could brag about getting with to his buddies.”

Vinnie frowned as he sat next to you. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“It’s like, why me? What did I do to deserve this?”

“Completely nothing.”

“I thought he was so sweet. He went on and on about how we were gonna go to homecoming together, and that he wanted to spend the rest of high school with me. But come to find out, it was nothing but lies.”

“I know, I know.” Vinnie sighed. He hated seeing you down, especially in this instance. You deserved nothing but complete happiness, and the fact that someone came along and ruined that for you, it pained him. “You don’t deserve that.”

“Maybe I do,” You replied, your voice breaking. “Maybe this was a sign that love isn’t for me.”

Vinnie shook his head as he looked at you. “Now, Y/n.”

You groaned, “It’s the truth. Think about it, no guy has ever shown interest in me before, and if they have, they’re either like Jackson or they’re in middle school.”

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

“No, it’s not. I’m just gonna have to face the facts: I’m meant to be alone.”

“Y/n-“

“I should’ve known better.”

“Y/n-“

“Nobody would ever want me.”

Vinnie growled, getting up from beside you. “There are people who want you, Y/n! You’re just too blind to see it!”

You scoffed. “Oh yeah, and who might that be? And if you say one of your baseball boys, I swear to god-“

“Me, Y/n…it’s me.”

You finally stopped your yapping and sat there in shock. Vinnie felt at peace, glad that he was able to get you to calm down. However, that peace was disrupted once he soon realized what he had said. “Oh, shit.” He mumbled to himself, although it was loud enough for you to hear.

“What’d you just say?”

“Oh shit.” He repeated, though he knew what you were referring to.

“Not that, idiot, what you said before that.”

He sighed, sitting back down. “Fine. I said that I want you. And before you go off the rails, I truly meant what I said. I don’t know when I started having feelings for you, but I do know that they’re strong. I get that we’ve been best friends for a while and it’s weird, but I just can’t help the way I feel for you.”

“Vinnie, I-“

“I completely understand if you don’t feel the same, I don’t expect you to.”

“Vin-“

“Just promise me that we can still be friends. I don’t know what I’d do without-“

Before he could finish his sentence, you smashed your lips against his. He was taken aback; so many thoughts were roaming around in his head which was nearly on the verge of combusting. When you pulled back, the two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a good minute.

“Wow.” He breathed, causing you to laugh. “I was not expecting that.”

“I could tell.” You grinned. “Do you really mean all of that…all of what you said?”

He nodded. “Of course, I do, Y/n. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. I care about you, and it sucks to hear you go on and on about not finding someone when I’m right here, someone who wants to be with you for you and not for your body or anything. I love you, like so fucking much.”

A smile crept onto your face as your hands found their way to the back of Vinnie’s neck. “You are absolutely too pure for this world, Vin.”

The boy laughed keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “I honestly don’t know what to say. No one has ever said something that sweet and meaningful to me. Maybe it’s because you’re my best friend but hearing it from you feels ten times better.” You smiled. “You mean a lot to me, Vinnie. The fact that I mean that much to you, it’s sweet.”

“This feels like a friendzone speech.” Vinnie said as his shoulders fell.

“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I was planning on friendzoning you.” You chuckled, stroking his head. “I really wanna try this out.”

“You mean like…you for real wanna go out? This isn’t for play-play?”

“Yeah. I feel like we’ve always been a couple. It just took some maturing, a moment of weakness, and one of us to say something for us to figure it out. And now, since we’ve figured it out…I think we should try and see where it goes.”

Vinnie gulped, “But what if it doesn’t work out? I don’t wanna lose you, Y/n.”

“And you won’t.” You reassured. “We’ve been in each other’s lives far to long to just walk out. I have no intention of leaving anytime soon.”

“If that’s the case, then I guess all that’s left to ask is…Y/n, do you want to go out with me?”

“Yes, Vinnie. I would love to go out with you.”

 Flashback over…

 As the scene left Vinnie’s head, he couldn’t help but grin. Two years ago, he would’ve never thought being with you would be possible. But here he was together with you. He had all he could ask for.

And he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[niskoo]

Burrito run

pairing: rich kid! Jake x rich kid! reader

genre: fluff, crack, bff2l! AU

warnings: food, swearing, sneaking out (??)

word count: 3k words

a/n: my dumbass posted this on my nct acc omfg

this was originally for haechan of nct for my nct acc (@daegall) but i thought i could treat you guys to hehe

networks: @enhypennetwork

You had known Jake for more than half of your lives. Thanks to both of your rich ass parents setting you two up for a playdate at the age of 12, now you have found your rock and partner in crime. You know when he's feeling down, when he wants to cause trouble for no reason, when he has an eye for someone, heck, you know when and how to get him out of any situation when needed.

Like right now, as he gives you a side glance as he talks boringly to a group of men. All they talked about was business. Jake wanted to talk about that one burrito place down the block, he wants to get out of there and go get some. He wants to get out of this stupid high class party he has no part of.

He knows you do too, he knows by the way you keep glancing at the back door by the kitchen, and how you occasionally move to each group closer to the door. You know he catches up to the plan, how he also moves from group to group, excusing himself every 2 minutes.

You politely excuse yourself from the many unknown rich aunts who just questioned your love life, giving them a very passive smile, before turning to move to another group.

You don't get to go to another group, because you're already so close to the door, and Jake approaches you.

"Why, hello there, miss Y/n."

You feign shock at his greeting, holding a hand to your chest, "My, Jaeyun, wasn't it? It's been too long!"

Your best friend nods, playing along to the small skit you two have created, "About 2 hours, I think? You've grown very beautifully,"

You flick your hand at him, nudging his shoulder not-so-gently, "Oh stop."

You bite your lip to hold back a loud laugh when Jake winces at your harsh push at his shoulder, watching as his face twists in playful anger. You can't help but thin he looks absolutely adorable, nose scrunched up and eyes narrowed in a non meaningful glare, you ought to kiss his puffed cheeks.

You shake the last thought from your mind, bringing the elegant glass of champagne to your lips, sipping lightly at the sweet and slightly sour liquid. You then take a double check around the spacious room, to see if anyone is watching.

Your mother and father were chatting at the far corner with the parents of Jay, a guy you met earlier this evening. He looked just as bored as you. Jake's parents stood not too far from your parents, greeting anyone who approached them.

This was your chance.

Quickly, as Jake was mumbling something about you growing up strongly as well, you grab his arm. He yelps in surprise, as you drag him through the back door, lightly blushing at your gentle touch at his wrist.

The back door soon slams behind the both of you, and you are met with a large yard.

"Y/n! What if someone caught us?"

Giving Jake a side glare, you start to trudge down the flight of stairs to the garden, "You were too busy complaining about my guns to notice we had a chance to escape. You're welcome."

"You're weak!"

"Am not!"

"Are to!"

You ignore the upcoming argument you could've started, taking off your painful heels. They were absolutely stunning, but stung your feet constantly. Beauty is pain, as mother says.

"Lead the way to the burrito truck you claimed to see on the way here!"

Through the many bushes, and many guards, and even more bushes, you finally make it out the the big mansion, and into the dark streets. It's 10 in the night, you hope the burrito place is still open or your only choice left is a McDonalds about an hour away or convenience store food. Not that you minded, but you haven't had a burrito since you were 18. You had it right after graduation day with one of your closes friends who you have no idea of her whereabouts now.

The last time Jake had a burrito is about last week, the first time he met another rich kid named Sunghoon. Their parents gave them a bunch of money to go spend on expensive and top quality foods, but they both mutually agreed to get cheap burritos that would probably give them a bad stomach.

Jake takes the lead, as expected, for he was the one who spotted the food truck. He took off his blazer some time ago, you don't remember when, but with his jacket thrown over his elbow and sleeves rolled up like that, you can't help but admire.

You notice every single little thing about him, his slow, rhythmic paces, occasionally kicking stray rocks on the sidewalk. You watch as his hair slightly bounces as he kicks yet another rock, and you want to pet his hair.

There was that one time when you were 16 and you had a movie night as your parents went away for some business, he had his head on your lap, you didn't mind for some reason. At some point you had started playing lightly with a few strands of his hair, but you didn't notice. The moment you softly ran your hands through his hair, you realized, and decided to keep your hands to yourself after that. To your surprise he protested against it, claiming it was very comforting. So now every time one of you come over to the other's house, you would somehow find yourself playing with his hair, like pure human instinct.

But now as you observed your best friend more, you have a different feeling running through you as you had an urge to softly play with them once more, as if it wasn't as platonic anymore. But that was absurd. you've been friends for 10 years now, why are you just feeling like this now?

Your heart jumps in your chest when you are suddenly met with Jake's eyes, shining brightly with a slight mischievous gloss glazing over them. "Can we pick up the pace please? I'm getting pretty hungry and I know you are too."

Your heart softens as he sticks his arm out, gesturing you to come next to him. You jog barefoot to his side, instantly looping your arm with his.

It doesn't take long to find the food truck Jake mentioned, just a 10 minutes from the mansion, somewhere near the center of town. You had to drive about 2 hours to get here, and so did Jake, so it's a bit strange how he knew his way around the town so easily. You guess he just is that way.

You practically drool at the smell of savory foods that lingers in the air, sucking the saliva in your mouth.

Your best friend eyes you playfully, nudging your hip with his, "See? What did I tell you? Burrito food truck!"

You don't respond, simply grunting and dragging him to the cashier to order some food.

It takes a lot of time to decide on what burrito you'd buy, there were even tacos, and weirdly, cookies and croissants. It was your dream food truck, really. In the end, you both went for the classic burrito, nothing could beat it.

There were no seats to the food truck, sadly, so you and Jake opted to sit on the curb, legs sprawled out on the road, hopefully no cars drive by.

"You ready?" Your best friend asks you, looking at you with much anticipation. You stare at your own burrito in much more anticipation, it's been 4 years since you had a burrito. You wonder how you could survive that long.

You nod vivaciously, already opening your mouth to take a bite. Jake chuckles as he watches you take your first bite, your cheeks instantly puffing out full of the contents. You shut your eyes in bliss, licking your lips for anything left on them.

As you continue to chew, you shake your head, "Shit, I haven't had anything this good in sooo long." You exaggerate, taking yet another bite of the heavenly treat.

Jake can't agree more, he just had a burrito last week, but somehow eating one with you feels different. Especially when you don't mind him seeing and pointing out the smeared food around your mouth, simply trying to search for it with your tongue instead.

Your best friend wants to cherish this moment forever, keep it deep in his heart and laugh at it in the future when he suddenly gets reminded of it, he wants to brag about it to his friends, maybe even share it with his grandchildren, he doesn't know. All he knows is that you're it for him.

You're the one he's spent all of his teenage years with, his first heartbreak, first sleepover, first drink was with you, heck, you were his first close friend!

You know so much about him, you share so much about yourself to him, he's the one you trust. He's the first person you call out to when you're down, first person you call out to in the best of your times. It amazing how much you've been through together, and Jake thinks anything is possible, as long as it's you.

Falling in love seems so much easier than ever, especially at that moment, eating a burrito instead of the expensive caviar at the party before, just with him. And nobody else.

He wants to make you his. Not just his best friend, his lover, his soul mate, his whole world. Not that you weren't already.

"What's wrong?" you suddenly ask Jake, startling him. "You nudge your chin at the burrito in his hands, "Why aren't you eating?"

Jake flushes, realizing he's been staring at you the whole time, taking a big bite of his burrito, before looking away bashfully. "It's nothing."

You grow suspicious of his actions, watching as he swallows and bites his lip shyly. You choose to leave it there, instead bringing up your parents being out of town next week.

The conversation keeps going, from one topic to the other, swerving all over the place, but that's just how it is, talking to the person you're most comfortable with.

The conversation goes on and on until you find yourself walking along the streets blindly, fiddling with the paper packaging of the burrito you ate. You also find yourself wearing Jake's shoes instead of walking barefoot, he gave to you after you complained about walking over so many rocks, and you didn't like how your heart swarmed and beat dangerously fast as he claimed it would be better if you borrowed them for the night.

Strangely enough, his blazer he took off about and hour ago now stayed on your shoulders, keeping you warm from the cold breezes of the night. All your best friend's actions made you swoon over him, and that wasn't something you would feel often. Maybe occasionally, but not everyday.

Jake doesn't know what got into him when he took his shoes off for you, or when he draped his blazer on your shoulders, or why he took your heels and held it for you. What he does know, is that he enjoys the way your lips purse and a light shade of pink dusted over your cheeks. Or how you pull his blazer tighter around your body and sub-consciously loop your arm around his again.

You two never really got to go through the proper high school experience, your parents forced you to go to a strict school with strict rules, they didn't even have celebrations.

Jake always imagines what it would be like to go to a dance, prom, maybe? Full of fun, dancing, and definitely you. You had a similar vision. Chugging down punch or soda and dancing crazily together until you both get sick and throw up in the bathroom.

Prom was like a mutual yearning for the both of you.

God, how you would kill to have a normal high school experience.

"You know," Jake starts, "this feels like I'm walking you home after prom."

You can't stop the grin from reaching your lips, giving into it and letting out a soft laugh. Softly, you elbow his side, "Corny."

There are a few laughs here and there after that, but overall just comforting silence that goes throughout the night. The crickets that echo throughout the night are your only noises, and the few cars rushing by. You two come to a stop at a random bench by a streetlamp, settling there until you realize it's time to go back to the party.

You realize it, but you just don't want to let go of the moment.

You feel Jake hook his leg under yours, swinging them together in sync as you rest and stare into the night sky. Tonight isn't that much of a pretty night, no stars, barely a moon, but that's alright, you're enjoying the most of it.

You turn your head away from the boring black sky, instead facing the mot interesting thing you find in life. Jake is staring down at your swinging legs, smiling at the sight. He fiddles softly with your fingers, caressing and tracing them as if they were one of the most precious things in the world.

Your eyes trail from your tangled legs, to your tangled hands, all the way up to Jake's face, tracing each and every detail with your gaze. You don't remember when he matured, you only remember the fluffy cheeked bowl cut Jake when you two were still middle schoolers. Now all that cheek has become more defined, especially his jaw, you can't help but admire him. He was like a piece of art. Your favorite piece of art.

For the second time that night, you focus on his hair, and ought to run your hands through them once again. To pull him into your embrace as he rests on you, to simply relax and twirl his strands around your fingers.

It seems like whenever you're staring at his hair, Jake just startles you with his eyes, still glossy, but this time they hold something different.

They admire you just as much as yours admire him.

Slowly, as if an unspoken agreement, you lean in closer to his face. His breath close to your cheek sets goosebumps trailing your body, and his touch now on your neck warms you inside.

Your eyes flit between his eyes and lips, oh those plump, soft lips you dream of. You would never admit it, but you have had many urges to crash your own upon them.

And that's exactly what you do. Though, crash isn't the right word to describe it. They press together softly more than recklessly, pulling into a soft lock, something much more than just platonic love being poured into it. Pure bliss and love are being poured like gentle and calm rivers, the ones you find clear and beautiful in parks. It runs faster as Jake tilts your head to kiss you closer, lips wrapped up in the warmth of yours. It feels like home to him.

Jake is absolutely perfect, you decide, despite all the many nights spent together breaking down, left for each other to pick the other up, it makes him perfect.

He thinks you're the most flawless thing he's ever seen, despite all the gems and crystals he sees in most parties, you're the brightest one shining, he could never find any jewel more valuable than you.

You pull away with one last soft lock of your lips, but stay close and ghost them together. You find his eyes the shining the most you have ever seen in the 10 years you have spent with him, one different emotion fluttering behind them. Love.

You surely don't feel that big of a person when you're at these big rich parties, even if everyone knew of your name. But kissing your best friend and being the one he sees, he loves, being his, you feel like you could rule the world.

You know you're his after this. How could you not? The way he breaks out into a very bashful smile when you leave one last peck on his lips, the way he holds you so close. There was no way he couldn't be yours after this.

A week later you have a very sleepy boyfriend on your couch, his head resting on your lap as you play softly with his hair. Nothing is all that different, except for all the kisses he steals when reaching up to you. And of course, the corny lines being thrown at each other as a competition to see who can come up with the cheesiest, most disgusting pick up line ever.

"I want to wrap you in my arms and make you my baerito."

"Ugh Jake that was just straight but bad! Not even funny or cheesy!"

Jake simply laughs, and wraps his arms around you just as he claimed to have wanted to, mumbling how he agreed into your forehead.

Being in his arms, you feel like you could fight everything that would try to hurt your lover, but for now you stick to the playful pokes he gives to your stomach and sides.

[blackwoolncrown]

”This essay has been kicking around in my head for years now and I’ve never felt confident enough to write it. It’s a time in my life I’m ashamed of. It’s a time that I hurt people and, through inaction, allowed others to be hurt. It’s a time that I acted as a violent agent of capitalism and white supremacy. Under the guise of public safety, I personally ruined people’s lives but in so doing, made the public no safer… so did the family members and close friends of mine who also bore the badge alongside me.

But enough is enough.

The reforms aren’t working. Incrementalism isn’t happening. Unarmed Black, indigenous, and people of color are being killed by cops in the streets and the police are savagely attacking the people protesting these murders.

American policing is a thick blue tumor strangling the life from our communities and if you don’t believe it when the poor and the marginalized say it, if you don’t believe it when you see cops across the country shooting journalists with less-lethal bullets and caustic chemicals, maybe you’ll believe it when you hear it straight from the pig’s mouth.”

>>Copied here in case anyone gets paywalled when they click the above. The full article is...a lot.<<

WHY AM I WRITING THIS

As someone who went through the training, hiring, and socialization of a career in law enforcement, I wanted to give a first-hand account of why I believe police officers are the way they are. Not to excuse their behavior, but to explain it and to indict the structures that perpetuate it.

I believe that if everyone understood how we’re trained and brought up in the profession, it would inform the demands our communities should be making of a new way of community safety. If I tell you how we were made, I hope it will empower you to unmake us.

One of the other reasons I’ve struggled to write this essay is that I don’t want to center the conversation on myself and my big salty boo-hoo feelings about my bad choices. It’s a toxic white impulse to see atrocities and think “How can I make this about me?” So, I hope you’ll take me at my word that this account isn’t meant to highlight me, but rather the hundred thousand of me in every city in the country. It’s about the structure that made me (that I chose to pollute myself with) and it’s my meager contribution to the cause of radical justice.

YES, ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS

I was a police officer in a major metropolitan area in California with a predominantly poor, non-white population (with a large proportion of first-generation immigrants). One night during briefing, our watch commander told us that the city council had requested a new zero tolerance policy. Against murderers, drug dealers, or child predators?

No, against homeless people collecting cans from recycling bins.

See, the city had some kickback deal with the waste management company where waste management got paid by the government for our expected tonnage of recycling. When homeless people “stole” that recycling from the waste management company, they were putting that cheaper contract in peril. So, we were to arrest as many recyclers as we could find.

Even for me, this was a stupid policy and I promptly blew Sarge off. But a few hours later, Sarge called me over to assist him. He was detaining a 70 year old immigrant who spoke no English, who he’d seen picking a coke can out of a trash bin. He ordered me to arrest her for stealing trash. I said, “Sarge, c’mon, she’s an old lady.” He said, “I don’t give a shit. Hook her up, that’s an order.” And… I did. She cried the entire way to the station and all through the booking process. I couldn’t even comfort her because I didn’t speak Spanish. I felt disgusting but I was ordered to make this arrest and I wasn’t willing to lose my job for her.

If you’re tempted to feel sympathy for me, don’t. I used to happily hassle the homeless under other circumstances. I researched obscure penal codes so I could arrest people in homeless encampments for lesser known crimes like “remaining too close to railroad property” (369i of the California Penal Code). I used to call it “planting warrant seeds” since I knew they wouldn’t make their court dates and we could arrest them again and again for warrant violations.

We used to have informal contests for who could cite or arrest someone for the weirdest law. DUI on a bicycle, non-regulation number of brooms on your tow truck (27700(a)(1) of the California Vehicle Code)… shit like that. For me, police work was a logic puzzle for arresting people, regardless of their actual threat to the community. As ashamed as I am to admit it, it needs to be said: stripping people of their freedom felt like a game to me for many years.

I know what you’re going to ask: did I ever plant drugs? Did I ever plant a gun on someone? Did I ever make a false arrest or file a false report? Believe it or not, the answer is no. Cheating was no fun, I liked to get my stats the “legitimate” way. But I knew officers who kept a little baggie of whatever or maybe a pocket knife that was a little too big in their war bags (yeah, we called our dufflebags “war bags”…). Did I ever tell anybody about it? No I did not. Did I ever confess my suspicions when cocaine suddenly showed up in a gang member’s jacket? No I did not.

In fact, let me tell you about an extremely formative experience: in my police academy class, we had a clique of around six trainees who routinely bullied and harassed other students: intentionally scuffing another trainee’s shoes to get them in trouble during inspection, sexually harassing female trainees, cracking racist jokes, and so on. Every quarter, we were to write anonymous evaluations of our squadmates. I wrote scathing accounts of their behavior, thinking I was helping keep bad apples out of law enforcement and believing I would be protected. Instead, the academy staff read my complaints to them out loud and outed me to them and never punished them, causing me to get harassed for the rest of my academy class. That’s how I learned that even police leadership hates rats. That’s why no one is “changing things from the inside.” They can’t, the structure won’t allow it.

And that’s the point of what I’m telling you. Whether you were my sergeant, legally harassing an old woman, me, legally harassing our residents, my fellow trainees bullying the rest of us, or “the bad apples” illegally harassing “shitbags”, we were all in it together. I knew cops that pulled women over to flirt with them. I knew cops who would pepper spray sleeping bags so that homeless people would have to throw them away. I knew cops that intentionally provoked anger in suspects so they could claim they were assaulted. I was particularly good at winding people up verbally until they lashed out so I could fight them. Nobody spoke out. Nobody stood up. Nobody betrayed the code.

None of us protected the people (you) from bad cops.

This is why “All cops are bastards.” Even your uncle, even your cousin, even your mom, even your brother, even your best friend, even your spouse, even me. Because even if they wouldn’t Do The Thing themselves, they will almost never rat out another officer who Does The Thing, much less stop it from happening.

BASTARD 101

I could write an entire book of the awful things I’ve done, seen done, and heard others bragging about doing. But, to me, the bigger question is “How did it get this way?”. While I was a police officer in a city 30 miles from where I lived, many of my fellow officers were from the community and treated their neighbors just as badly as I did. While every cop’s individual biases come into play, it’s the profession itself that is toxic, and it starts from day 1 of training.

Every police academy is different but all of them share certain features: taught by old cops, run like a paramilitary bootcamp, strong emphasis on protecting yourself more than anyone else. The majority of my time in the academy was spent doing aggressive physical training and watching video after video after video of police officers being murdered on duty.

I want to highlight this: nearly everyone coming into law enforcement is bombarded with dash cam footage of police officers being ambushed and killed. Over and over and over. Colorless VHS mortality plays, cops screaming for help over their radios, their bodies going limp as a pair of tail lights speed away into a grainy black horizon. In my case, with commentary from an old racist cop who used to brag about assaulting Black Panthers.

To understand why all cops are bastards, you need to understand one of the things almost every training officer told me when it came to using force:

“I’d rather be judged by 12 than carried by 6.”

Meaning, “I’ll take my chances in court rather than risk getting hurt”. We’re able to think that way because police unions are extremely overpowered and because of the generous concept of Qualified Immunity, a legal theory which says a cop generally can’t be held personally liable for mistakes they make doing their job in an official capacity.

When you look at the actions of the officers who killed George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, David McAtee, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, or Freddie Gray, remember that they, like me, were trained to recite “I’d rather be judged by 12” as a mantra. Even if Mistakes Were Made™, the city (meaning the taxpayers, meaning you) pays the settlement, not the officer.

Once police training has - through repetition, indoctrination, and violent spectacle - promised officers that everyone in the world is out to kill them, the next lesson is that your partners are the only people protecting you. Occasionally, this is even true: I’ve had encounters turn on me rapidly to the point I legitimately thought I was going to die, only to have other officers come and turn the tables.

One of the most important thought leaders in law enforcement is Col. Dave Grossman, a “killologist” who wrote an essay called “Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs”. Cops are the sheepdogs, bad guys are the wolves, and the citizens are the sheep (!). Col. Grossman makes sure to mention that to a stupid sheep, sheepdogs look more like wolves than sheep, and that’s why they dislike you.

This “they hate you for protecting them and only I love you, only I can protect you” tactic is familiar to students of abuse. It’s what abusers do to coerce their victims into isolation, pulling them away from friends and family and ensnaring them in the abuser’s toxic web. Law enforcement does this too, pitting the officer against civilians. “They don’t understand what you do, they don’t respect your sacrifice, they just want to get away with crimes. You’re only safe with us.”

I think the Wolves vs. Sheepdogs dynamic is one of the most important elements as to why officers behave the way they do. Every single second of my training, I was told that criminals were not a legitimate part of their community, that they were individual bad actors, and that their bad actions were solely the result of their inherent criminality. Any concept of systemic trauma, generational poverty, or white supremacist oppression was either never mentioned or simply dismissed. After all, most people don’t steal, so anyone who does isn’t “most people,” right? To us, anyone committing a crime deserved anything that happened to them because they broke the “social contract.” And yet, it was never even a question as to whether the power structure above them was honoring any sort of contract back.

Understand: Police officers are part of the state monopoly on violence and all police training reinforces this monopoly as a cornerstone of police work, a source of honor and pride. Many cops fantasize about getting to kill someone in the line of duty, egged on by others that have. One of my training officers told me about the time he shot and killed a mentally ill homeless man wielding a big stick. He bragged that he “slept like a baby” that night. Official training teaches you how to be violent effectively and when you’re legally allowed to deploy that violence, but “unofficial training” teaches you to desire violence, to expand the breadth of your violence without getting caught, and to erode your own compassion for desperate people so you can justify punitive violence against them.

HOW TO BE A BASTARD

I have participated in some of these activities personally, others are ones I either witnessed personally or heard officers brag about openly. Very, very occasionally, I knew an officer who was disciplined or fired for one of these things.

Police officers will lie about the law, about what’s illegal, or about what they can legally do to you in order to manipulate you into doing what they want.

Police officers will lie about feeling afraid for their life to justify a use of force after the fact.

Police officers will lie and tell you they’ll file a police report just to get you off their back.

Police officers will lie that your cooperation will “look good for you” in court, or that they will “put in a good word for you with the DA.” The police will never help you look good in court.

Police officers will lie about what they see and hear to access private property to conduct unlawful searches.

Police officers will lie and say your friend already ratted you out, so you might as well rat them back out. This is almost never true.

Police officers will lie and say you’re not in trouble in order to get you to exit a location or otherwise make an arrest more convenient for them.

Police officers will lie and say that they won’t arrest you if you’ll just “be honest with them” so they know what really happened.

Police officers will lie about their ability to seize the property of friends and family members to coerce a confession.

Police officers will write obviously bullshit tickets so that they get time-and-a-half overtime fighting them in court.

Police officers will search places and containers you didn’t consent to and later claim they were open or “smelled like marijuana”.

Police officers will threaten you with a more serious crime they can’t prove in order to convince you to confess to the lesser crime they really want you for.

Police officers will employ zero tolerance on races and ethnicities they dislike and show favor and lenience to members of their own group.

Police officers will use intentionally extra-painful maneuvers and holds during an arrest to provoke “resistance” so they can further assault the suspect.

Some police officers will plant drugs and weapons on you, sometimes to teach you a lesson, sometimes if they kill you somewhere away from public view.

Some police officers will assault you to intimidate you and threaten to arrest you if you tell anyone.

A non-trivial number of police officers will steal from your house or vehicle during a search.

A non-trivial number of police officers commit intimate partner violence and use their status to get away with it.

A non-trivial number of police officers use their position to entice, coerce, or force sexual favors from vulnerable people.

If you take nothing else away from this essay, I want you to tattoo this onto your brain forever: if a police officer is telling you something, it is probably a lie designed to gain your compliance.

Do not talk to cops and never, ever believe them. Do not “try to be helpful” with cops. Do not assume they are trying to catch someone else instead of you. Do not assume what they are doing is “important” or even legal. Under no circumstances assume any police officer is acting in good faith.

Also, and this is important, do not talk to cops.

I just remembered something, do not talk to cops.

Checking my notes real quick, something jumped out at me:

Do

not

fucking

talk

to

cops.

Ever.

Say, “I don’t answer questions,” and ask if you’re free to leave; if so, leave. If not, tell them you want your lawyer and that, per the Supreme Court, they must terminate questioning. If they don’t, file a complaint and collect some badges for your mantle.

DO THE BASTARDS EVER HELP?

Reading the above, you may be tempted to ask whether cops ever do anything good. And the answer is, sure, sometimes. In fact, most officers I worked with thought they were usually helping the helpless and protecting the safety of innocent people.

During my tenure in law enforcement, I protected women from domestic abusers, arrested cold-blooded murderers and child molesters, and comforted families who lost children to car accidents and other tragedies. I helped connect struggling people in my community with local resources for food, shelter, and counseling. I deescalated situations that could have turned violent and talked a lot of people down from making the biggest mistake of their lives. I worked with plenty of officers who were individually kind, bought food for homeless residents, or otherwise showed care for their community.

The question is this: did I need a gun and sweeping police powers to help the average person on the average night? The answer is no. When I was doing my best work as a cop, I was doing mediocre work as a therapist or a social worker. My good deeds were listening to people failed by the system and trying to unite them with any crumbs of resources the structure was currently denying them.

It’s also important to note that well over 90% of the calls for service I handled were reactive, showing up well after a crime had taken place. We would arrive, take a statement, collect evidence (if any), file the report, and onto the next caper. Most “active” crimes we stopped were someone harmless possessing or selling a small amount of drugs. Very, very rarely would we stop something dangerous in progress or stop something from happening entirely. The closest we could usually get was seeing someone running away from the scene of a crime, but the damage was still done.

And consider this: my job as a police officer required me to be a marriage counselor, a mental health crisis professional, a conflict negotiator, a social worker, a child advocate, a traffic safety expert, a sexual assault specialist, and, every once in awhile, a public safety officer authorized to use force, all after only a 1000 hours of training at a police academy. Does the person we send to catch a robber also need to be the person we send to interview a rape victim or document a fender bender? Should one profession be expected to do all that important community care (with very little training) all at the same time?

To put this another way: I made double the salary most social workers made to do a fraction of what they could do to mitigate the causes of crimes and desperation. I can count very few times my monopoly on state violence actually made our citizens safer, and even then, it’s hard to say better-funded social safety nets and dozens of other community care specialists wouldn’t have prevented a problem before it started.

Armed, indoctrinated (and dare I say, traumatized) cops do not make you safer; community mutual aid networks who can unite other people with the resources they need to stay fed, clothed, and housed make you safer. I really want to hammer this home: every cop in your neighborhood is damaged by their training, emboldened by their immunity, and they have a gun and the ability to take your life with near-impunity. This does not make you safer, even if you’re white.

HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE A BASTARD?

So what do we do about it? Even though I’m an expert on bastardism, I am not a public policy expert nor an expert in organizing a post-police society. So, before I give some suggestions, let me tell you what probably won’t solve the problem of bastard cops:

Increased “bias” training. A quarterly or even monthly training session is not capable of covering over years of trauma-based camaraderie in police forces. I can tell you from experience, we don’t take it seriously, the proctors let us cheat on whatever “tests” there are, and we all made fun of it later over coffee.

Tougher laws. I hope you understand by now, cops do not follow the law and will not hold each other accountable to the law. Tougher laws are all the more reason to circle the wagons and protect your brothers and sisters.

More community policing programs. Yes, there is a marginal effect when a few cops get to know members of the community, but look at the protests of 2020: many of the cops pepper-spraying journalists were probably the nice school cop a month ago.

Police officers do not protect and serve people, they protect and serve the status quo, “polite society”, and private property. Using the incremental mechanisms of the status quo will never reform the police because the status quo relies on police violence to exist. Capitalism requires a permanent underclass to exploit for cheap labor and it requires the cops to bring that underclass to heel.

Instead of wasting time with minor tweaks, I recommend exploring the following ideas:

No more qualified immunity. Police officers should be personally liable for all decisions they make in the line of duty.

No more civil asset forfeiture. Did you know that every year, citizens like you lose more cash and property to unaccountable civil asset forfeiture than to all burglaries combined? The police can steal your stuff without charging you with a crime and it makes some police departments very rich.

Break the power of police unions. Police unions make it nearly impossible to fire bad cops and incentivize protecting them to protect the power of the union. A police union is not a labor union; police officers are powerful state agents, not exploited workers.

Require malpractice insurance. Doctors must pay for insurance in case they botch a surgery, police officers should do the same for botching a police raid or other use of force. If human decency won’t motivate police to respect human life, perhaps hitting their wallet might.

Defund, demilitarize, and disarm cops. Thousands of police departments own assault rifles, armored personnel carriers, and stuff you’d see in a warzone. Police officers have grants and huge budgets to spend on guns, ammo, body armor, and combat training. 99% of calls for service require no armed response, yet when all you have is a gun, every problem feels like target practice. Cities are not safer when unaccountable bullies have a monopoly on state violence and the equipment to execute that monopoly.

One final idea: consider abolishing the police.

I know what you’re thinking, “What? We need the police! They protect us!” As someone who did it for nearly a decade, I need you to understand that by and large, police protection is marginal, incidental. It’s an illusion created by decades of copaganda designed to fool you into thinking these brave men and women are holding back the barbarians at the gates.

I alluded to this above: the vast majority of calls for service I handled were theft reports, burglary reports, domestic arguments that hadn’t escalated into violence, loud parties, (houseless) people loitering, traffic collisions, very minor drug possession, and arguments between neighbors. Mostly the mundane ups and downs of life in the community, with little inherent danger. And, like I mentioned, the vast majority of crimes I responded to (even violent ones) had already happened; my unaccountable license to kill was irrelevant.

What I mainly provided was an “objective” third party with the authority to document property damage, ask people to chill out or disperse, or counsel people not to beat each other up. A trained counselor or conflict resolution specialist would be ten times more effective than someone with a gun strapped to his hip wondering if anyone would try to kill him when he showed up. There are many models for community safety that can be explored if we get away from the idea that the only way to be safe is to have a man with a M4 rifle prowling your neighborhood ready at a moment’s notice to write down your name and birthday after you’ve been robbed and beaten.

You might be asking, “What about the armed robbers, the gangsters, the drug dealers, the serial killers?” And yes, in the city I worked, I regularly broke up gang parties, found gang members carrying guns, and handled homicides. I’ve seen some tragic things, from a reformed gangster shot in the head with his brains oozing out to a fifteen year old boy taking his last breath in his screaming mother’s arms thanks to a gang member’s bullet. I know the wages of violence.

This is where we have to have the courage to ask: why do people rob? Why do they join gangs? Why do they get addicted to drugs or sell them? It’s not because they are inherently evil. I submit to you that these are the results of living in a capitalist system that grinds people down and denies them housing, medical care, human dignity, and a say in their government. These are the results of white supremacy pushing people to the margins, excluding them, disrespecting them, and treating their bodies as disposable.

Equally important to remember: disabled and mentally ill people are frequently killed by police officers not trained to recognize and react to disabilities or mental health crises. Some of the people we picture as “violent offenders” are often people struggling with untreated mental illness, often due to economic hardships. Very frequently, the officers sent to “protect the community” escalate this crisis and ultimately wound or kill the person. Your community was not made safer by police violence; a sick member of your community was killed because it was cheaper than treating them. Are you extremely confident you’ll never get sick one day too?

Wrestle with this for a minute: if all of someone’s material needs were met and all the members of their community were fed, clothed, housed, and dignified, why would they need to join a gang? Why would they need to risk their lives selling drugs or breaking into buildings? If mental healthcare was free and was not stigmatized, how many lives would that save?

Would there still be a few bad actors in the world? Sure, probably. What’s my solution for them, you’re no doubt asking. I’ll tell you what: generational poverty, food insecurity, houselessness, and for-profit medical care are all problems that can be solved in our lifetimes by rejecting the dehumanizing meat grinder of capitalism and white supremacy. Once that’s done, we can work on the edge cases together, with clearer hearts not clouded by a corrupt system.

Police abolition is closely related to the idea of prison abolition and the entire concept of banishing the carceral state, meaning, creating a society focused on reconciliation and restorative justice instead of punishment, pain, and suffering — a system that sees people in crisis as humans, not monsters. People who want to abolish the police typically also want to abolish prisons, and the same questions get asked: “What about the bad guys? Where do we put them?” I bring this up because abolitionists don’t want to simply replace cops with armed social workers or prisons with casual detention centers full of puffy leather couches and Playstations. We imagine a world not divided into good guys and bad guys, but rather a world where people’s needs are met and those in crisis receive care, not dehumanization.

Here’s legendary activist and thinker Angela Y. Davis putting it better than I ever could:

“An abolitionist approach that seeks to answer questions such as these would require us to imagine a constellation of alternative strategies and institutions, with the ultimate aim of removing the prison from the social and ideological landscapes of our society. In other words, we would not be looking for prisonlike substitutes for the prison, such as house arrest safeguarded by electronic surveillance bracelets. Rather, positing decarceration as our overarching strategy, we would try to envision a continuum of alternatives to imprisonment-demilitarization of schools, revitalization of education at all levels, a health system that provides free physical and mental care to all, and a justice system based on reparation and reconciliation rather than retribution and vengeance.”

(Are Prisons Obsolete, pg. 107)

I’m not telling you I have the blueprint for a beautiful new world. What I’m telling you is that the system we have right now is broken beyond repair and that it’s time to consider new ways of doing community together. Those new ways need to be negotiated by members of those communities, particularly Black, indigenous, disabled, houseless, and citizens of color historically shoved into the margins of society. Instead of letting Fox News fill your head with nightmares about Hispanic gangs, ask the Hispanic community what they need to thrive. Instead of letting racist politicians scaremonger about pro-Black demonstrators, ask the Black community what they need to meet the needs of the most vulnerable. If you truly desire safety, ask not what your most vulnerable can do for the community, ask what the community can do for the most vulnerable.

A WORLD WITH FEWER BASTARDS IS POSSIBLE

If you take only one thing away from this essay, I hope it’s this: do not talk to cops. But if you only take two things away, I hope the second one is that it’s possible to imagine a different world where unarmed black people, indigenous people, poor people, disabled people, and people of color are not routinely gunned down by unaccountable police officers. It doesn’t have to be this way. Yes, this requires a leap of faith into community models that might feel unfamiliar, but I ask you:

When you see a man dying in the street begging for breath, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a mother or a daughter shot to death sleeping in their beds, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a twelve year old boy executed in a public park for the crime of playing with a toy, jesus fucking christ, can you really just stand there and think “This is normal”?

And to any cops who made it this far down, is this really the world you want to live in? Aren’t you tired of the trauma? Aren’t you tired of the soul sickness inherent to the badge? Aren’t you tired of looking the other way when your partners break the law? Are you really willing to kill the next George Floyd, the next Breonna Taylor, the next Tamir Rice? How confident are you that your next use of force will be something you’re proud of? I’m writing this for you too: it’s wrong what our training did to us, it’s wrong that they hardened our hearts to our communities, and it’s wrong to pretend this is normal.

Look, I wouldn’t have been able to hear any of this for much of my life. You reading this now may not be able to hear this yet either. But do me this one favor: just think about it. Just turn it over in your mind for a couple minutes. “Yes, And” me for a minute. Look around you and think about the kind of world you want to live in. Is it one where an all-powerful stranger with a gun keeps you and your neighbors in line with the fear of death, or can you picture a world where, as a community, we embrace our most vulnerable, meet their needs, heal their wounds, honor their dignity, and make them family instead of desperate outsiders?

If you take only three things away from this essay, I hope the third is this: you and your community don’t need bastards to thrive.

RESOURCES TO YES-AND WITH

Achele Mbembe — Necropolitics

Angela Y. Davis — Are Prisons Obsolete?

CriticalResistance.org — Abolition Toolkit

Joe Macaré, Maya Schenwar, and Alana Yu-lan Price — Who Do You Serve, Who Do You Protect?

Ruth Wilson Gilmore — COVID-19, Decarceration, Abolition [video]

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (July 7/2021) - Trip to Kinoko

Purpled begins to build a new UFO in Las Nevadas.

Tommy catches up with Sapnap and asks to visit Kinoko Kingdom, where he tries to make a new home.

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Purpled

Tommyinnit

Captain Puffy

---

- Ponk, Purpled and Sam log on. Sam only has ten minutes to speak with Ponk

- Sam gives Ponk some advice and tells Ponk all about how people really like piston doors, like in the prison. Ponk asks Sam to tell him about the prison and Sam starts speedrunning explaining the story, talking incredibly quickly

Ponk: “What’s the prison? Tell me more about the prison.”

Sam: “Dreams in there. Dream’s there. He’s locked up, he’s in the prison. He’s in the prison. He’s in the jail. He’s in the jail, and I’m the Warden. And I watch the prison. I watch the prison. Yeah, yeah, and this one guy, he stole keycards in the prison because he wanted to be the Warden, and then I chopped his arm off and then I stole the keycards back and then I threatened his life after I’d already killed him once, but you see, he got to revive because everyone has three lives and that’s the rules, because if everyone dies, then the story ends, so we all have three lives, right? ‘Cause that’s the rules, and so he, I took one of them, so that guy only had -- then the story’s over, it’s a never-ending story until the last person dies for the third time, okay?”

Ponk: “Damn. So nothing lasts forever?”

Sam: “Nothing lasts forever, no -- nobody wan -- you know like, that kinda thing, so anyways, so this guy, so anyways, I had to take one of his full lives so now he only has two, and then he still had keycards and he still wouldn’t give them to me so then I had to take off his arm and then after I cut off his arm, bing badabing badaboom, it had the keycard in it, right? So I cut off his arm, now I had the keycard and then badabing badaboom, we’re all good now, everything’s good, and then -- I dunno, I dunno if he’s still upset about it, but that’s basically what went down with the prison. Dream--”

Ponk: “I’d be pretty upset if someone took my arm.”

Sam: “Yeah, yeah. I mean, he did steal those keycards though, and like, that’s on him that he stole those, so that’s not really--”

Ponk: “How if they didn’t even work! How if they didn’t even work, Sam!”

- Sam continues to talk at rapid speed explaining the prison keycard system mechanics. They still have several minutes left. Sam covered a lot of ground

- Next, Ponk asks Sam to tell him all about the start of the SMP, and Sam starts telling the story about how the first members joined and how they went fishing, and Alyssa caught the first nametag, how he took a break and came back after a long time

- After Sam’s meeting, Ponk is going to speak with Sam about lore. They have some cool ideas

- Ponk tells Sam about the failed TNT cannon

- Ponk starts running back to attempt Prison Break 2 before their time runs out. Sam waits at the prison to kill him again

- Sam comes to the summer home and Ponk starts stabbing him. Ponk chases Sam, then Sam chases Ponk, then their time runs out and Sam starts rushing back with Ponk chasing him again

- Sam logs off midair and Ponk returns to working on his project

- Later, Ponk starts taking down the casino

- On the one-year anniversary of Purpled joining the server (along with Tubbo, Fundy and Punz), Purpled gathers resources and begins to rebuild his old UFO at Las Nevadas

- Tommy sees the mini L’Targay Puffy made for him. Sapnap arrives and Tommy takes down the rainbow decorations

- Tommy tears down the dirt roof as well. Sapnap remembers when he, Tommy and Tubbo fought Dream there

- Sapnap hands Tommy some mushrooms from his kingdom

- As they search for Puffy’s house, Tommy asks Sapnap where they stand. Sapnap supposes they’re friends

- Tommy asks Sapnap to take him to Kinoko Kingdom. Sapnap tells him that’s where George lives

- Tommy finds Foolish’s letter to Eret and reads it. They walk to Kinoko while reminiscing on how they first spoke

- Sapnap steps on a landmine and they trade some wet

- They make it to Kinoko Kingdom and Sapnap teaches Tommy about shrooms

- Tommy sees “Dream” running around in the barn and is confused. He insists to Sapnap that he isn’t on shrooms. Sapnap tells him that Kinoko gives secondhand shroom effects. Sapnap thinks Karl’s memory issues are from the shrooms

- They keep walking around and Dream’s face appears and disappears out of nowhere

- Tommy has decided he could do with a retreat. They look over the ledge and Tommy sees Wilbur’s face staring back at him from the ground

- Tommy claims an area as his new home. Sapnap doesn’t want to allow it

- Tommy copyrights sunsets. Sapnap pays the diamonds to watch it

Tommy: “Sapnap? We may have had a bad history, but we can have a good future, alright?”

- He asks to stay here for as long as he wants since someone griefed his home

- Sapnap considers it. Then he robs Tommy and announces it while Tommy makes a new bench on the roof

- Foolish joins the call and asks if they’re looking to buy this place. Tommy says he is. Foolish says nobody has actually paid for the place yet, but Sapnap doesn’t want Tommy to live here

- Sapnap isn’t very experienced in mugging, but he took Tommy’s things. He aims a bow at Tommy and tells him to leave

Sapnap: “Tommy, I don’t wanna have to take away your -- how many canon lives do you have?”

Tommy: “Don’t make me think about my revival, man, don’t make me think about my death.”

Sapnap: “You’re gonna have one less, that’s all I know, if you don’t get out of here.”

- Sapnap says Tommy is friends with the guy who “blows up shit” (Wilbur) and he can’t have that here

Tommy: “There’s a difference between looking out for someone in a brotherly -- borderline paternal re -- that’s different, man. You can’t hold that against me, man, you gotta let me make -- fuck you!”

- Technoblade knocks on the fourth wall, impatient for Monopoly

Tommy: “In my time of need, you just kill me! In my time of need, you just shoot me up!”

Sapnap: “You’re a dick! You -- you know, you just act like you just fucking own the place!”

Tommy: “I didn’t act -- I act like you don’t own the place, which is true!”

Sapnap: “You haven’t changed.”

- Sapnap has the Nintendo Voucher. He shouts at Tommy to get out of here and never come back

- Tommy walks back to his house as Sapnap brags that he will spend the Nintendo Voucher 

- He leaves to go play a fun game of Monopoly!

- Puffy sees that Tommy took down the mini L’Targay and is disappointed

- She goes to Sam’s base to see Fran until she realizes Sam is watching the stream

- She comes back later with a cat and puts the cat where Fran was. She hides Fran offscreen

- Puffy also rebuilds Tommy’s house into red white and blue colors using diorite, Netherrack and blue wool. On the roof she puts a picture of the Queen

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it.  he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that.  so happy ❤️ 

View all 9,208 comments

caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story.  Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.  

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes?  Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him.  Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard.  ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’).  But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’  a source close to the couple reported.  

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.  

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’ 

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right.  To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar. 

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.  

Is this the best she thinks she can do?  So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer. 

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate.  From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship.  Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson??  I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea.  “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious.  “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second.  He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment.  “I haven’t talked to him in… years?  I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it.  And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other.  But he has his own problems.  I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl.  You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him.  “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first.  Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name.  And I’m not perfect.  Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly.  “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries.  When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away.  “Don’t read the comments, okay?  None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well.  In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care.  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously?  I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words.  “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing.  I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured.  “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it?  Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted.  "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

//

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head.  In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized.  What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker.  “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway.  BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door.  Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face.  “Are you—?’

“Hungry?  Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk.  “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified.  “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you!  Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl.  “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space.  “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked.  “And not just with random delivery drivers.  I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough 

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!”  You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained.  “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen?  By people?” 

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes.  “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened.  “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked.  “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning.  “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed.  “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off.  “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought.  “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know.  Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.  

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do.  I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled.  “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky.  “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table.  “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already.  I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb.  I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you.  I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek.  “I think so, too.”

//

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress.  “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant?  You’re still paying me,” he reminded you.  “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff.  You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided.  “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard?  Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever.  As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress.  Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet.  It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

[reikuto]

RANDOM HIGHSCHOOL AOT HEADCANONS

WARNINGS! — lots of cursing sorry!

CHARACTERS! — eren and armin

A/N! — this was just for fun so don’t take any of it too seriously lmfaoo. hope you enjoy!!

GENRE! — comedic? modern au

ARMIN ARLERT

avoids eye contact w/ppl because omfg it’s just really intense sometimes

stutters a lot cause he speaks 90mph when he’s excited about something

constantly tucking his hair behind his ear because it’s always in his face when he’s trying to get work done this is where ponytail! armin comes into play.

only ever pulls his hair into a ponytail when he’s in the comfort of his home because the kids at school are assholes.

slowly pushes his glasses up with a deadpan expression whenever someone says something incredibly stupid or ignorant.

rolls his eyes ALL the time. at this point it’s just instinct. can you blame him? he’s friends with eren, jean, and connie. that pretty much just speaks for itself.

subconsciously picks up litter in public. environmentally conscious king!!

“careful, don’t step on the snail!” type of person

guilty of baby talking all sorts of funky animals

“awww who’s the cutest little thing!”

“armin, that is a literal possum.”

collects funky seashells he finds at the beach and keeps them in a mason jar. only the people he deems worthy are allowed to see them

idk how but this mf can nap anytime and anywhere. like how the fuck does he fall asleep while jean and eren are screaming over call of duty bruh

quick ass reader. checks out books and checks them back in like it’s nobody’s business.

close friends with the librarian; sometimes she lets him check out six books instead of the library’s max limit of five. not to brag but yeah, it’s pretty badass

always shares his lunch with eren because the brunet has terrible eating habits. and yes, it’s an everyday thing.

holds the title for being the best study buddy in the group. need flash cards? on it! need help with a mock exam? no problem! need someone to go over the material with you? he’s already on his way! ugh, he’s the best

most likely a part of student government; maybe like the vice president cause he’s just responsible like that

EREN JAEGER

this BOY. oh my word

CANNOT stop picking at shit; picks at his cuticles, picks at the skin of his lips, picks at his scabs, like STAWP. PUHLEASE

narrows his eyes when he’s thinking so it looks like he’s always glaring angrily at shit.

never ties his fucking shoes. EVER. settled on just buying a shit ton of slip on vans so he wouldn’t have to worry about that shit anymore

eats with his hands when he’s alone (a habit that carla would NOT approve of)

his shit is EVERYWHERE. but in a neat way? his room is clean; no dust, no piles of dirty laundry, no hardened socks laying around. it’s just unorganized asf,,, but like, he still knows where everything is

i feel like eren would play soccer, idk, it just feels right

mfs is covered in bruises but it’s NOTHING compared to the bruises his teammates have from when eren misses the ball and practically drills his foot their calves

VERY loud. headass fucking roars whenever he scores a goal. in hindsight, it’s a bit much, but all the other students fucking love it. they’ll literally be screaming with him and the school they’re against cringes at their sheer volume.

mf doesn’t know what deodorant is. he be smelling like straight ASS after his games and he wants to be all over his friends

“eren get OFF, we’re SUFFOCATING over here.”

“come on, guys, gimme a hug, i scored the winning point!”

popular with the ladies; bitches cannot get ENOUGH of this tanned, green eyed mf

eren is kind of emotionally constipated though, so he’s kind of blindsighted by soccer and trying to pass his classes to give any of them the time of day.

he’s totally not a virgin though. who tf told you that, cause they were 100% not lying. was it jean? he’s a liar!