#Predator;;Lawless

[thefutureiswhat]

Gus lectures Molly about it being too dangerous for her to do her job and says she should let the other cops take care of things, because he doesn't want Greta to go to another funeral...

Then he proceeds to not tell the aforementioned cops that he's found the killer they're hunting, and puts himself into an extremely dangerous situation that could very well lead to Greta attending his funeral... 🙄

[cybrsan]

Light It Up! — K.HJ, P.SH

STORY SUMMARY: The year is 2077, and the world is a lawless dystopia where tech giants and major corporations hold all the power. Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa are an infamous criminal duo who have made names for themselves fighting against the "techno brainwashing" of society. Discovering they're on the brink of getting caught, they decide to go out with a bang—and who better to help them than their favorite plaything?

PAIRING: Kim Hongjoong x F!Reader x Park Seonghwa

RATING/GENRE: M ; smut ; criminal / cyberpunk / dystopian AU

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

WARNINGS: Arson, breaking and entering, clubbing, alcohol + drug use, pet names (doll, precious), rioting, violence

NSFW WARNINGS: Choking, creampie, cum stuffing, cunnilingis, deep throating, exhibitionism, fire play, fingering, free use, hair-pulling, knife play (light), multiple orgasms, play party, public sex, spitroasting, sub drop, threesome, overstimulation

A/N: Don't blame me, blame the MATZ m/v.

LINKS: Masterlist, cross-posted on AO3.

“And… there!” 

After days of meticulous planning, organizing, and making shady, back-alley deals, it’s finally done. The last camera is in position—everything is ready for the big event. All that’s left for you to do is step back and admire your work.  

Switching on your illegally procured holodeck, you press a few buttons and watch as the space around you completely transforms. What was once an abandoned warehouse is now a club that could rival any in the city center. Neon lights pulse to heavy synth, serving bots whiz from place to place,  and the makeshift bar looks inviting enough with rows of expensive bottles on display. Whether or not the liquor in the bottles is worth the price, well… Hopefully people will be too distracted to notice. 

The focal point, the one thing you are most proud of, is the transparent stage that extends at least 15 feet above the dance floor. Taking in the grandeur of it all is more than enough to get you excited for what's to come. You're certain that Hongjoong and Seonghwa will put on the performance of the century. 

Today is incredibly important for both of them, and the fact that they have trusted you enough to include you more than makes up for the long hours and strenuous work. They’re currently out setting up their "grand finale," which they have been painstakingly cryptic about. You have your suspicions, not that you need or even want to know the specifics. 

A low whistle pierces the air. "You really outdid yourself this time, doll." 

You turn to look at Seonghwa as he enters, and your heart practically skips a beat when you take in his appearance—he must have changed in preparation for the big event. His hair, pulled away from his face, lets you focus on his features; dark eyes, full lips, all beautifully accented by his smoky makeup. His outfit is one you haven't seen on him before, but it suits him perfectly, from the gold chains hanging around his neck to the deep cut of his silk shirt.  

"Thanks, Hwa," you reply bashfully, dusting off your hands on your jeans. "Just trying to do my part." 

He approaches you, a smirk tugging at his lips. The way he stares at you, drinks you in… it makes you feel like a prey animal who has found itself in the sights of a predator. You blush and cast your gaze to the floor, suddenly fascinated by the specks of dirt at your feet. 

"And you have done it spectacularly." He lifts your chin with his pointer finger, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "I think you deserve a reward." 

Seonghwa drops his gaze to your lips for just a moment before he leans in, closing the space between you with an almost agonizing slowness. The kiss is gentle and commanding all at once and you shiver, immediately pulling him closer. The fatigue, the stress—all of it melts away.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling on it with just enough force to make you gasp. His tongue slides expertly against yours, the taste of him something sweet and darkly rich, like cherry liquor. It’s addictive. But the moment ends too soon for your liking, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

Seonghwa doesn’t pull away entirely, resting his forehead against yours as he lifts a hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. He lets his touch linger as he traces a path down your neck, lithe fingers playing with the necklace dangling above your chest. Three dainty, silver hearts. One for you, one for Seonghwa, and one for—

The rev of a motorcycle engine cuts through the air, and your head snaps toward the sound just in time to see Hongjoong park his bike at the door. He takes off his helmet and shakes out his hair which you’re surprised to see is freshly dyed. It almost makes you laugh; of course even as he’s out running errands for his coup de grâce, he finds time for fashion.

“Not starting the party without me, I hope?”

Hongjoong’s heeled boots click pleasantly atop the concrete flooring as he walks over to the two of you. His synthetic fur coat is a bright orange, the complete opposite of what one might expect a criminal on the run to wear. But both he and Seonghwa have never been ones for hiding.

“Never,” Seonghwa replies, clapping a hand on the back of the younger’s neck. “Did you get it done?”

Hongjoong scoffs in a teasing manner. “Did you doubt I would?”

“Of course not.” Seonghwa squeezes Hongjoong’s neck once before letting go and clapping his hands together. “Looks like it’s time for the show.”

A few hours later, the party is in full swing. The once-empty warehouse is now filled to the brim with people dressed in cloaks and masks for the sake of anonymity. Some are on the dance floor, grinding against each other, while others have drifted toward the bar, downing shots and laughing.

Toward the back of the room, there's a group huddled around a table, huffing glitter, black lace, and who knows what other kinds of drugs. Meanwhile, others are tangled together on couches, lost in the throes of ecstasy. The air is so thick with the smell of smoke and sweat that it almost makes you dizzy.

A hand wraps around your neck from behind, pulling you against a warm body, and you gasp. “That’ll be us later, precious,” Hongjoong whispers, hot breath fanning against your ear. Your nervousness ebbs away, immediately replaced by eagerness.  “Do you like watching them? Or maybe you’d prefer to be the one being watched?”

You lean back against him, the hand around your neck a welcome pressure. “Both,” you breathe.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter. “Good.” 

He separates from you, and you turn to face him. He seems so confident, so excited, that it’s hard to believe he and Seonghwa are about to paint targets on both of their backs. Hit by a wave of anxiety, you lean forward and kiss him. He immediately reciprocates, nipping at your bottom lip and eagerly exploring your mouth with his tongue. 

Kissing him is always different than kissing Seonghwa. Seonghwa’s kisses are controlled, with a hidden power brewing behind them. There’s always a promise of more, a hint at what is to come when he finally lets go. On the other hand, Hongjoong kisses with reckless abandon. He is uninhibited, always ready to devour you whole. When he pulls back, a string of spit hangs between you before snapping.

“You nervous?” You nod, and he gently tweaks your chin between two fingers. “Don’t be. Those tech bastards have no idea what we have in store.”

“I just want the two of you to be safe.”

“And we will be,” he assures you. "After everything goes up in flames. Trust me, precious. Trust us.”

“I do.” And it’s true. You trust them with everything that you have.

“That’s our girl.” He kisses you again. “It’s time to go live.”

You take out your holodeck, and with the click of a button, all the cameras you set up switch on. You hurriedly switch channels through all the local stations, thrilled to see that it worked and the entire club is being streamed live to every device in the city. 

You stop the music and make the lights go out, causing a hush to fall over the crowd. You shine one beam of light directly onto the stage and you watch as Seonghwa steps out to address the throng of people below. He is captivating and has no problem commanding all of the power in the room. 

“Welcome one and all,” Seonghwa begins, voice booming over the speakers. “If you’re here, it means you are brave enough to fight against the corporations that enslave our society!”  

Hongjoong steps up next to him, and while he’s smaller in stature, he exudes no less power. However, he stays silent as Seonghwa continues, “We will not be silenced any longer. Tonight, we raise our voices in defiance; we will no longer bow down to those who seek to control us!” 

The crowd explodes into thunderous applause but immediately falls silent when Hongjoong raises a hand. "But tonight isn’t just about the revolution—it is also a celebration of our freedom, our individuality, and our unity. So let loose because everyone in the city is watching and we all know that, deep down, they wish they were us!” 

Cheers and shouts fill the room once again as everyone raises their glasses in solidarity. Your heart swells with pride as you take it all in. You have become a part of something far greater than yourself and, just like your boys, you are willing to do whatever it takes to see it through to victory.

You switch the music and lights back on and the party resumes in full force. People seem to go even harder than they were before, playing up their hedonism for the cameras. Seonghwa and Hongjoong have disappeared into the crowd, likely to mingle and spread their message one-on-one. 

Seonghwa favors the dance floor, hypnotizing those around him as he moves. A contented smile tugs at the corner of his lips as his hips sway to the beat, as beautiful as he is provocative. He flits from person to person, holding them close as he whispers into their ears. He occasionally catches you watching him, always making sure to tease you with a wink. 

On the other hand, Hongjoong stalks the perimeter of the room, moving from group to group. His skill lies in charming people with his words, and tonight is no different. Everyone who speaks to him smiles and laughs, completely enamored with everything he says. He shakes hands, claps shoulders, and you have no doubt that if people weren’t loyal before, they will be when he’s through.

You stick to one of the quieter corners of the room in order to keep an eye on the cameras. You need to make sure that everything is running smoothly both in and out of the club; the last thing you need is for someone to reveal your location or try to hack into your network and ruin everything. You also keep a close eye on your boys, making sure they stay safe.

It’s past midnight by the time they come and find you. Hongjoong sits on your left, placing a hand on your thigh as he leans toward you and kisses your cheek. His lips linger a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he purrs, “You should be out there, dancing, having fun.”

“I am having fun,” you say, taking the champagne glass offered to you by Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa sits on your right, throwing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his side. “You would be having even more fun if you put down the holodeck.” 

“But—”

Hongjoong takes it from you, throwing it haphazardly onto the cushion beside him. “Don’t argue.” 

He leans forward again, this time lightly nibbling your earlobe with his teeth. You gasp, knuckles turning white as you tighten your grip on your glass out of instinct. Seonghwa watches the two of you with half-lidded eyes, his hand trailing down your side and slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to trace patterns over your flushed skin.

“It’s a night for celebration, doll,” he murmurs. “You have done your job. The only thing we need from you now is… well, you.” He squeezes your hip and you jump slightly. “The badges will be here in a little over an hour according to one of my sources. While not as long as I’d like, it gives us just enough time to have a celebration of our own.”  

Your thighs clench in anticipation—you know exactly what he’s hinting at. 

"Lead the way, then," you say, setting your half-empty glass down.

Seonghwa’s gaze meets Hongjoong’s over your head, an unspoken agreement passing between them. They stand up and pull you toward the dance floor, surrounding you, one at your front and one at your back. You sway between them to a slow, seductive rhythm, closing your eyes as you let yourself enjoy their attention.

Seonghwa’s hands rest on your waist, pulling you against him as he starts to move his hips in tandem with yours, grinding against you. Meanwhile, Hongjoong cups your face, thumb tracing your bottom lip. His eyes are dark and intense as he captures your mouth with his own in a searing kiss. 

Seonghwa’s grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin as he watches Hongjoong devour you. He keeps one hand on your hip while the other snakes around to cup the back of Hongjoong’s neck, causing the younger to moan into your mouth at the touch. Now with a possessive grip on you both, Seonghwa gets to work nipping and marking the exposed skin of your shoulder. 

The room seems to disappear around you as they continue to explore you, their mouths and hands feeling like they are everywhere at once. It's intoxicating, even more so than the champagne you were drinking earlier. You feel Seonghwa’s hand trail even lower, disappearing under your waistline, snapping the band of your underwear against your skin.

You gasp and Hongjoong laughs against you, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling back with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Let’s give them a good show, hm?” 

You let the two of them drag you onto the stage, cheeks ablaze as you realize exactly what they’re planning. You’re hyper aware of the fact that you are being watched; even though most of the club-goers are lost in their own pleasure, the viewers that are steaming have nothing better to do than keep their eyes locked on you. 

Seonghwa clicks his tongue, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “Look at our girl, acting so shy.” His fingers find your heart necklace, tugging at it just hard enough to make you gasp. “As if wearing this doesn’t mean we can do whatever we want to you, whenever and wherever we want.” 

Hongjoong takes a switchblade out of his pocket, flipping it open with a maniacal grin on his face. He uses it to cut away your clothes, exposing your body for everyone to see. Your knees shake and whether it is out of anxiety or anticipation, you can’t tell. 

He traces the tip of it against your skin, the cold metal leaving goosebumps in its wake. “We know you love it, precious,” he says. “Don’t you want everyone to see how good we make you feel? Think of all the viewers out there that will feel oh-so-scandalized but still won’t be able to look away. Not to mention all the greedy whores who will be getting themselves off to us, wishing they were in our places.” 

Seonghwa pulls you against him just like he did on the dance floor, once again letting his fingers tease his way down your stomach. But this time, he lets them travel even lower, dipping into your folds. 

“Look how wet you are just from this,” he remarks, bringing his fingers back up and spreading them so you can see the evidence of your own desire. He then extends them to Hongjoong who greedily laps at them, sucking them clean. 

You whine, trying to keep your legs closed from embarrassment, knowing anyone below the stage can look right up at you and see exactly how aroused you are. But Seonghwa won’t let you, shoving his knee between your thighs. Almost instinctively, you grind down on it, letting another pathetic sound slip past your lips. 

Hongjoong’s eyes glint with wicked delight at your reaction, his own hands reaching out to cup your breasts. “Someone’s eager,” he teases, tweaking a nipple between two fingers.

You hear a few wolf whistles from the crowd, a few lewd comments being thrown your way, but they only make you more excited. 

“I…” You’re panting heavily, making it hard for you to speak. You have to take a deep breath before trying again. “I want you. Please.”

“Anything for you, doll,” Seonghwa coos, returning his attention to your core. He pushes in one finger all the way to his knuckle with no warning and, if it weren’t for his hold on you, your legs would have buckled. 

“Fuck.” The curse slips from your lips, half whimper, half moan, as he continues pumping his finger inside your wet heat. 

Hongjoong lowers his head, taking one of your nipples in his mouth as he pinches and tugs at the other. You grip his shoulders for purchase as your head lolls back to rest on Seonghwa’s chest, whining at the onslaught of sensation. The feeling of Seonghwa inside of you while Hongjoong lavishes his attention on your breasts is unlike anything you have ever felt. 

As Seonghwa adds another finger, Hongjoong’s lips mark a path from your breasts, to your stomach, and then lower as he sinks to his knees in front of you. He grabs your thighs, fingers digging into your skin, just as his tongue finds your clit. His tongue draws figure eights around it as Seonghwa continues to pump his fingers relentlessly inside of you. 

“T-too much…” you gasp. But neither of them slow down—if anything, feeling how close you are makes them double down on their efforts. Hongjoong sucks your clit into his mouth at the same time Seonghwa adds a third finger, curling them inside of you. 

Seonghwa kisses the back of your ear, his hot breath making you shiver. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs. 

That small bit of praise is all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge, eyes rolling back as your body goes taut with pleasure. Hongjoong eagerly laps up your release, only prolonging your orgasm. Seonghwa gently removes his fingers from you and you hear rather than see when he brings them to his mouth, tasting yourself on his skin. 

Hongjoong pulls back, licking his lips to clean them of your release before his trademark smirk returns. “I think it’s time for you to return the favor, precious. Don’t you think, Hwa?” 

Seonghwa trails a hand down your spine, humming. “I don’t know if she can handle it.”

“I can,” you gasp, eager to please them just as they did you. “I can, I promise. Anything you want.” 

You almost jump from surprise as some spectators in the crowd start yelling their vulgar suggestions as to how exactly they think you should please your partners. You’re sure if you looked at your holodeck, the live chat would be filled with similar comments as well. 

Hongjoong laughs, grabbing your face in his hand. “Don’t worry about them. You can have us however you like.” 

Blushing, you say, “You choose.” 

His eyes light up and he immediately looks behind you to Seonghwa. Just like earlier, some sort of silent communication passes between them, and then you feel Seonghwa’s hand on the small of your back, urging you to bend over. 

“Why don’t you show our Joong what that pretty mouth of yours can do while I fill you up, hm?”

You barely have enough time to nod your agreement before Hongjoong is unbuckling his belt and freeing himself of his constraints. You nearly salivate at the sight of his cock, red and wanting. He grabs your hair and pulls, tugging you forward as much as he can with Seonghwa’s bruising grip on your waist keeping you in place. Tears prick at your eyes but it’s as pleasurable as it is painful, and you take him into your mouth eagerly.

The head of Seonghwa’s cock teases your folds before he finally pushes forward into you. He starts moving at a slow, torturous pace, pulling out of you before slamming right back in. Each thrust propels you forward, forcing you to take Hongjoong deeper into your mouth. You feel so full, so used. It’s incredible.

“Look at her,” Hongjoong coos, staring down at you. “Look at how well she takes us.” 

Seonghwa just groans, grinding into you so deeply that you have to choke back a moan around Hongjoong’s cock. He’s gotten quieter, his thrusts sloppier, a telltale sign that he is losing himself in his own pleasure. Meanwhile, Hongjoong’s grip tightens around your hair, guiding your head back and forth on his length. Each thrust cuts off your air supply, making you see stars.    

Seonghwa’s hand snakes around to your front, fingers finding your swollen clit. You moan again, and Hongjoong echoes you as the vibrations travel up his cock. 

“Shit,” he curses. “So fucking good.” 

Seonghwa’s thrusts grow increasingly erratic and you hear his breath hitch; instinctively, you clench around him, and he spills into you. His release sends you spiraling into your second orgasm of the night, walls fluttering around him as you milk his cock of every drop. 

Hongjoong pulls out of your mouth not long after, squeezing the base of his shaft to prevent himself from following the two of you over the edge. The second Seonghwa steps away from you, he is taking his place, forcing himself inside of you before any of the elder’s cum can drip out. 

“Hongjoong,” you gasp, nearly falling forward from the force of his thrusts. Seonghwa maneuvers himself so that he can support you, holding you in his arms as Hongjoong pounds into you with bruising force. 

“Gonna fill you just like Hwa did,” he growls. “Make you mine. Ours. You’re ours.” 

“Can’t… can’t…” Words escape you, your mind going blank. 

“Yes, you can,” Seonghwa says, stroking your hair. “You can take it. You can come for us one more time.”

His voice is comforting, but you also hear the command in his tone. You choke out a sob, nodding weakly as Hongjoong guides your hips back against him again and again. You can feel another orgasm coming on already, the coil tightening in your stomach. Seonghwa continues to murmur words of praise, stopping only to pepper kisses along your heated skin. 

The coil snaps and you cry out as you come undone, Hongjoong’s cock still buried deep inside of you. His hips stutter and he curses, his warm release mixing with Seonghwa’s. He slowly pulls out and you can feel as some of their cum trickle down your thighs. You collapse against Seonghwa completely, no longer able to stand on your own two legs. 

You feel light-headed and blood pounds in your ears, muffling the cheers you assume are coming from the crowd. You’re too far gone to be embarrassed, and a lazy smile tugs at your lips—the three of you surely gave them the show of a lifetime. 

Suddenly, you feel heat lick at your skin, and you snap back into yourself fully, cringing away from it. Your eyes focus, and you see Hongjoong flicking a lighter open and closed, open and closed.  

“There’s our girl,” he remarks. He brings the lighter to your skin again, just close enough for you to feel the heat of it without it burning you. “I think we were a bit rough with you, precious. You were totally out of it, shivering and everything.” 

Seonghwa is behind you again, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. You press further against him, squirming as the heat tickles your skin. 

“Back with us?” Seonghwa asks.

You nod. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” 

“Okay. Hongjoong—enough.” 

Hongjoong stops immediately, flipping the lighter closed with a tsk. “Fine. It’s gonna get hotter in a minute anyway.”

Now that you’re focused, you finally hear the shouting and crashing coming from below. The very people who were just watching you on stage are now rioting, destroying the warehouse and everything in it. The cameras, the bar, all of your hard work—now there is just destruction, everywhere you look. 

You shoot up, hurriedly dressing yourself so that you are no longer the only one naked as panic begins to take hold. “What’s going on? Seonghwa, Hongjoong, we need to—”

You waver on your feet, nearly tripping. Luckily, Seonghwa catches you. “Calm down, it’s okay,” he says, hushing you. “This is all part of the plan.”

Hongjoong gestures to the crowd, pointing out some things you missed. “See how some of them are drenching the place with gasoline? We’re gonna light it up.” 

Maybe you’re still delirious from your multiple orgasms, but you are having trouble understanding what the two of them mean. “Why? I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

“This was all a distraction,” Seonghwa explains. “The club, the livestream, us putting on a show. We did it so that all eyes would be on us, and all the badges would be wasting their resources trying to find our location.” 

You nod slowly as the pieces begin to come together. “So, while I was setting all of this up…”

“We were out there. Planting bombs at some of the biggest tech headquarters in the city.” Hongjoong smiles, spreading his arms wide. “Our coup de grâce, just like we’ve been saying.” 

Despite all of your suspicions, this is something you never would have been able to guess. Before you can even begin to truly comprehend the magnitude of what they’ve done, sirens pierce the air. Everyone screams and begins to run out of the warehouse. Seonghwa grabs your hand, and nods to Hongjoong. “Now!” 

Hongjoong throws his lighter to the ground below and flames erupt instantly, devouring everything in sight. Luckily, most of the crowd has already escaped, and you feel confident no one should get caught in the aftermath. Still, it’s pandemonium, and smoke fills your lungs as Seonghwa pulls you closer, shielding you with his body as he hurries toward the nearest exit. 

Hongjoong follows after you, but lags behind as he keeps looking over his shoulder at the fire with a sadistic grin on his face. “That’s how we do it,” he yells, voice barely audible over the blaze.

“Get yourself together,” Seonghwa barks. “We need to get out of here before the cops realize what’s going on and find us.” 

Suddenly, Hongjoong trips, his foot catching on some loose debris. Seonghwa reacts instantly, yanking him back to his feet and throwing an arm around his waist. The three of you continue onward as the heat of the fire licks at your back. You crash through one of the exit doors, and stumble away into the night, disappearing into the sea of masked faces. 

All across the nation, devices light up with the same headline: “City in Chaos as Blazing Inferno Distracts from Large-Scale Bombing of Tech Giants.”

“Nation-wide manhunt underway. Suspects Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa believed to be connected to an underground criminal group called The Black Pirates…” 

NETWORKS: @cromernet @kflixnet @pirateeznet

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie @nebulousbrainsoup @ad0rechuu @sanniesbunnie @seonghwaddict @fruitcakebin @kickti @abby-grace @fireseo @yunhofingers @ohflorah @oiminho @baekbao @byuntrash101 @hyukssunflower @thatnerdytomboy @straykidsholicleigh

[tomorrowusa]

« Kamala Harris and Donald Trump are not taking the same exam. I think it bothers people. They're not taking the same exam. He gets to be lawless. She has to be flawless. »

— Van Jones on CNN.

There's been a glaring double standard regarding this election.

Ever since Trump rode down the kitchy golden escalator nine years ago he's been getting media mulligans for his behavior and extremist mindset. Being a sexual predator and Hitler fanboy are just dismissed as "Trump being Trump".

Meanwhile, some claim that Kamala Harris is unknown despite being in public service for two decades – as opposed to zero time for Trump before he was sworn in back in 2016.

Trump is being graded on a HŪGE curve while Kamala is being judged by standards which pre-date the era of grade inflation.

[sehtoast]

Tender Threads Ch 9 (Homelander x OC)

chapter nine: awakenings

chapter directory | slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, spidersona as original character, original trans male character, smut, sublander

summary: the world hasn't always been good to you, has it, little spider?

warnings: this chapter contains attempted/foiled SA against a minor, recollections of SA by a main character, and themes of hate-crimes

“– and now that menace is trying to corrupt our greatest hero!”

He fades into the world before his eyes even open.  There’s an awareness of most things.  A body beside him, fuzzy blankets beneath the palm of his hand, a pillow that his face is half sunken into, warmth…

“These arachnid types are all the same!”

And that damn voice…

He blinks slowly, eyelids heavy with the weight of rest the likes of which he hasn’t had in… well, he doesn’t know, really.  Before him is his little spider, phone aloft in his limp hand playing on the lowest volume setting and looping what seems to be a podcast of some sort.

“Junkies, thieves, dangers to society!”

Despite the vitriol, Benjamin seems to have fallen back asleep.  Homelander slips the phone out of his hand and squints.  8:45 in the morning… not quite time to start their day, but certainly a lot later than he normally sleeps.  Not that it matters terribly much.  Friday meetings always happened later in the day.  Other than a photoshoot at two, their day was mostly clear.  

Mostly.

“And now one’s in The Seven!  What were they thinking!?”

The Bugle.  Some low ranking news podcast channel he’s heard of in media demos that constantly begs for him to come on as a guest.  Homelander rolls his eyes.  This guy was less than shit in grass, but, all things considered, shit served more of a purpose.  Just a washed up old editor for a disbanded newspaper company whose name he recycled shortly after they had to close up shop.  Desperate for anything that could lift his views, even if it was just a rank amateur D-lister from some shithole like Cleveland.

Jonamy Ameson was no ordinary angry old man, it seemed.  As Homelander scrolled the VTok page, it appeared that he had a massive personal vendetta against Spider-Man.

“I don’t want that kind of filth swinging around the streets of this great city– nay, this great nation!” 

Every word was shouted with all of the poise of a tantruming child, fists slammed on his desk to rattle the cheap microphone, fingers pointed into the camera.  If the video wasn’t about Ben, about Spidey, it was about Webweaver, Silk Strider, Arachno-Lad– basically any spider type hero was ripe for the picking, but Ameson’s prime target was always Spidey.  

Interesting… 

“To think Homelander would allow such filth on his team!  The lawlessness of it makes me want to simply vomit!” 

Maybe it was worth booking a slot on his little budgetless production to put Ameson in his place.  For now, though… He has Ben’s phone.  Ben’s unlocked phone.  A quick glance finds the bug still out cold, so he gets to work.

Homelander was no aficionado with technology, but he knew one thing.  A person’s cell phone was an absolute gold mine of secrets.  Texts, photos, search history, all sorts of little obscure things he hasn’t been able to deduce from his secret visits and late night observations.

He starts with texts.  The second to last person Benjamin had texted was his mother and, from the looks of it, the conversation hadn’t been pleasant.

-please talk to your brother. he loves you -

-he’s got a real funny way of showing it - 

-he just doesn’t know how. you’re not being nice -

-the last time i talked to him he made sure to accuse me of being part of ‘tranny predator cabals’ but sure, *i’m* not nice -

The conversation seemed to have died there two days ago.  He backs out and opens the most recent.  In it, he finds Benjamin’s chats with his apparent best friend– the same one Homelander watched him have lunch with so long ago.

-i made Homelander mad, idk what to do -

-Duuuuude -

-help 😭😭 i don’t want him pissed at me! -

-I thought you’d want him at a distance after the stalking bullshit -

-i meaaan a few weeks ago yeah, but not really now yk? he’s not bad. kinda cool actually. you seen the pics yet of us running around together?

-Just that one from the other day with the car thieves -

The rest is… interesting.  Ben told of their excursions. Of how scared he was the first time they flew but how he’s started loving it so much– how he’s embarrassed to ask but wants to see if ‘Homie’ would ever bring him up above the clouds at night.

-idk does that sound weird? it might be weird -

-It’s a little weird bro. Shit sounds a lil romantical ngl -

-😭😭 -

A little night trip, eh?  He could do that…  But a romantic flight?  That was… something else.  That the bug didn’t deny it was worth a raised eyebrow or two.  Maybe… No.  No, no… he shouldn’t entertain the thought.  But maybe…

He shakes his head to clear his mind.

Benjamin’s gallery is little more than wanted signs and missing person posters, with maybe a shot or two relevant to his actual life.  A few screenshots of stupid social media posts, a picture of the menu from Patsy’s Pizza…

He’s so fucking ordinary.

Homelander half expected to find rantings and ravings about how much the bug detested their time together.  Something to undermine and dispel the illusion of all of this strange kindness.  Hell, he was even hoping to find a nude or two to send to himself and delete the evidence of such from Benjamin’s phone right after– but there’s nothing.  Even his social media is clean.

With a sigh, expelling emotions he can’t even name, Homelander leans over the bug to place the phone on the nightstand.  And that’s fine until he realizes how close that makes them.  The strangest shiver goes down his spine– a need to curl his arm around Ben’s abdomen and tug him nearer and sink into his very existence.

Their faces are so close.  He can practically taste Ben’s breath and he hardly hates that it carries that morning-time smell with only a whisper of the bug’s toothpaste of choice.  His nose should be scrunching in disgust. Every part of him should be reacting that way.  Instead, he stares at Ben’s lips, imagines what it would be like to slot a leg between his and entwine their limbs.

He’s never woken up beside someone before.

Maeve never stayed.  Never wanted to.  The rare fan usually left right after, was far too fucking annoying to keep around, or just… didn’t survive the prior events.  Even in the more innocent sense, like now, he’s never had this. 

What are you doing to me..?

He leans in closer.

Closer… 

The slightest nudge would touch their lips and he’d know if this was all just his mind playing tricks on him or if it was something… 

Something else. 

The fact Benjamin hasn’t startled awake yet is a miracle.

Homelander’s breaths grow unsteady, chest beginning to rise and fall faster and harder, heart hammering within. There’s something forbidden about it all.  A fruit too sweet to taste that screamed for him to do it anyway.  Could he stop himself?  

Should he?

Eve cast mankind from paradise with a mere bite.  Would the same happen here?  If those gentle eyes happened to flutter open and catch him in the act, would he too be thrown from heaven?

He has to know. He has to fucking know right now.

He flinches the moment their lips touch.  It’s as if Benjamin is pure electricity jolting through his very bones, fire through his veins, air in his lungs and it’s all from a mere brush of flesh.  Homelander’s eyes roll and flutter shut.  He goes back a second time, firmer.  It’s a sensation running hot and cold through his entire body all the to the fog of his mind.

He doesn’t move.  Doesn’t glide his lips further nor allow his tongue to swipe out.  He just lingers there, letting every sensation lap at the shores of his heart, mind, and soul.  It was like water in the desert. Food for a man starved.  Freedom for a caged dog.

Pulling away is the hardest thing he’s ever done.  But he can’t risk it.

He cannot be cast out from Eden.

Meetings had gone from a sore spot of anxiety to no more than a time to daydream.  There wasn’t much to it.  Homelander did the same-old-same-old.  He’d ask about saves, about marketing, about media projects, all the regular stuff.  This time, though, he gets to gloat.

“Well, the bug and I got up to some mischief with a few groups of undesirables this past week.”  He says proudly, shoulders back as he preens before the lackluster attention of the team.  “Media’s been eating it up, Home-Spider's been trending for three days straight. Our approval rates hit a hundred percent this morning.  That’s how it’s done, team. ” 

Homelander’s so giddy– happier than usual by a long shot.  Ben wonders what’s gotten into him.  Even their morning together had been incredibly upbeat.  Granted said morning was a matter of waking up, having a laugh about the absurdity of having had a sleepover without discounting that it was actually enjoyable, offering Homelander a lackluster breakfast of cereal– which he politely denied, and seeing him off as he floated back to his penthouse to get put together for the day. But still. 

Waking up beside him had been interesting.  Seeing Homelander with his eyes shut, sleeping peacefully without a trace of stress, sourness, or even a distant, distracted mind warping his expressions was… 

Well, it certainly brewed a nice warm feeling in the bug’s chest.  The entire fact Homelander had shown up last night took Ben totally by surprise, but it spurred the strangest tidal wave of joy.  Maybe because the ice cream apology worked out, but also just knowing he’d flipped the man who once threatened to ruin his life over to a friend was a source of happiness in its own right.  But it was somehow more.

For so long, Ben’s only friend had been Jase. There was only so much the bug could pester him before he would start to feel like a nuisance.  He’s lost so many people to having a dual life and hiding himself.  All the events he’s walked out on to do the right thing, all the people he’s left behind, every text detailing how his absence was too hurtful to tolerate anymore… and even just the relationships that died naturally.  

Although he was, at first, a suffocating force, Homelander has become the freshest breath of air Benjamin has breathed in a very long time.  Strange how the man who destroyed his perfect balance could become such a thing.

“Now,” leather clad hands come down on Ben’s shoulders and jar him from his thoughts.  The grip is gentle– kind, even. “Spidey and I have to get a move on to cover our obligations, but I fully expect to hear good things from everyone when we meet again on Tuesday.”

Once upon a time Ben would have expected those hands to be slowly crushing his bones in a display of dominance, but they do nothing of the sort. In fact, one drops and Homelander splays the other between Ben’s shoulder blades.  Benjamin looks up and smiles, glancing to the side occasionally to watch the others depart.  Maeve’s lingering gaze doesn’t go unnoticed, but he brushes it off.

“We’ve got that photoshoot next, yeah?”  He asks.

Homelander nods.  “Then some more district patrols. Oh, I’ve got a surprise for you too, but you’re gonna have to wait.”

“You wha–” 

“Ah, ah.  No spoiling it.”  Homelander says with a wag of his finger.  “Now, go do whatever it is a spider does.  I’ve got a quick meeting with Madelyn before we leave.”

“Wait, like– it’s a good meeting, right?”  

“Of course, silly.”

Silly?  That’s a new one.

“Just make sure you’re on the roof when I’m done, ‘kay?”  Homelander leans in, brow arched, voice softer and deeper.  “Otherwise I’ll have to hunt you down.”

Ben’s brows raise and his cheeks tingle with a warmth that spreads a little faster through his body than he’d care to admit. “In that case, c-can I just… give you my number then?”  Smooth. “Not to like, y’know– it’s so you can tell me when you’re done and I can–”

“Mm,” Homelander hums, pulling a phone out from god knows where in his suit.  “That sounds like a super idea, actually.”  He leans against the table and hands it off, eyes locked with Ben's.  “Go ahead, put it in.” 

Woah… is he– why’s he being so…

The bug taps away to create the contact, sends himself a message, and hands it back.  Homelander peers at the screen for a moment before snorting a little laugh.  Probably because of the contact name.  

‘Ben 🕷️ 🤠’ 

“Behave yourself, Benjamin.” Homelander says as he stands once more, turning on his heel to leave.  He gets to the door’s threshold before he turns back. “Oh, and don’t put my name in your phone as something weird.  You fuckin’ Gen Z’s are always doing that.”

Oh, now it’s just pure fucking temptation.

“No promises.  Homie.” 

“Hope you didn’t blink.  That’d just make us look bad.”

“I’m wearing a mask, you dipshit!” Ben cackles, releasing one web to tether another.  “What if you blinked, huh?”

“Please,” Homelander scoffs as he floats along.  “I’m perfect.  I would never do such a thing.”

“Suuure. I bet.”  The bug lets off at just the right angle to land on a low building.  On the streets below, students were just letting out from a nearby high school and their far-off chatter filled the air around them.  

Homelander touches down right next to Ben and shoots him a smug look.  The teasing had been going on back and forth since they first left Vought Tower.  Nothing crazy.  In fact, it had all been perfectly good natured.

The day had been absolutely wonderful.  They’d even snagged some churros once the shoot ended and ate them on top of the Empire State Building.  Of course, Homelander complained about the low quality of the ‘meal.’  He was, after all, a man of refined tastes accustomed to steak and lobster and whatever other fancy-pants cuisine the chefs on floor twenty-two cooked up.  

“What, you didn’t know you could do custom orders?”

“No!” Ben whined.  “The fuck?  You mean you can just get anything, and it’s like– it’s free!?”  

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Homelander asked, giving the street vendor food a concerned sniff.

“‘Cuz it’s fuckin’– it’s so fancy, dude!”  The bug throws his head back in theatrical agony.  “My god, I’ve been eating lunchables and ramen this whole time.  What the hell...”

“I don’t– why the fuck would it even matter if cost anything?  It’s not like you’re poor anymore.”

“Old habits, Homie.” Ben gripes.  “Once you’ve lived off’a jarred marinara and dollar store spaghetti for a month because you fucked up your budget, you just kinda get conscious of spending, y’know?”

“Nope.”  Homelander snorts.  “I would not know.  That sounds disgusting.”

“Mm.” Comes a hum that breaks Ben from the joyful memory.  “Sounds like a kerfuffle closer to the school.”

“Wanna check it out?” 

“Just kids,” Homelander says.  “Sounds like the pecking order is just establishing itself.”

The bug just looks at him.

“Fine.”  Homelander grabs Ben at the waist and propels them into the air, zipping all the way to a rooftop overlooking some rank alleyway where a gaggle of youths jeered at another, shoving him back and forth between the circle they’d formed around him.  

“Let’s see it, pussy boy!”

“C’mon, you say you’re a real man!  Shouldn’t be that hard to prove it.”

A girl stands off to the side, phone pointed at the scene while she laughs in gleeful joy.

Ben jumps down with no care to slow his fall. The concrete crackles below him, drawing away all the attention. 

The crowd parts with gasps of awe and horror, and in the center is an older boy frozen in place, hands mid-tug on a younger boy’s shirt.

Benjamin inhales deeply, holds it, then lets it go.  They’re kids– remember that they’re just kids.

The girl holding the phone points it in his direction, quaking.  With a thwip, he snags it from her, throws it to the ground, and crushes it under his heel.  Rage brews in his gut like a poison.  He’s almost confident his knees are trembling almost as much as his balled fists.  It’s all but a mirror fucking image of himself...  Tears bite at his eyes and it takes all he’s got to swallow the lump in his throat between the grinding of his teeth.

The kids flinch with his first step toward them.  By the second, they’re inching their bodies to turn for their inevitable dash from the scene of the crime.  All Ben wants is to grab each of them by the neck and throttle them senseless for what they were doing.

“Go.”  He grits.  “Get the fuck out of here!”

Normally, seeing them throw one another to the wolves and every-man-for-himself-ing it would be amusing.  But not this.  Not now.

The boy they’d been after sniffles and tugs his jacket back in place, zipping it quickly to hide the torn neckline of his shirt that had revealed a garment Benjamin knew all too well.

“Hey it’s– don’t worry now, okay?”  He stammers, approaching slowly.  “They’re gone, and they ain’t coming back.  This yours?” Ben asks, nodding his head in the direction of scattered books, paper, and a crumpled bookbag.  His heart hurts ten times worse when he spots the little pink, blue, and white pride pin dangling from a zipper loop.

The boy doesn���t answer, nor does his gaze rise from the ground.  Ben picks everything up anyway.  He spots a name on some torn up algebra homework.

“Eli?”

That does the trick.  Ben grabs one last thing off the ground– a baseball cap– and shuffles over to him.  “You okay?”  The bug kneels once Eli looks back to the ground. Kiddo’s got a black eye and a bloody nose.  “Think you dropped this,” he murmurs.  He gently plops the hat in place and tugs it forward nice and snug.  Perfect fit.

Thwip.

Whoever’s washcloth he snagged from the clothesline above will just have to cope with its loss.  “Here.” He says, reaching forward with the rag to dab away the blood.  “Pinch that for me, yeah?” When the boy’s hands don’t leave the neckline of his jacket, Ben sighs.

“Don’t worry about hiding the straps, little dude.  I used to wear a binder too.”

And, just like that, shame and humiliation turns to awe and disbelief.

“Used to have shitty kids do awful things to me too.”

“R-Really?”  Eli squeaks, voice nasally from the hold Ben keeps on his nose.

“So you can talk!”  The bug chirps, lenses miming the way his eyes change with his growing smile.  “Here, take that– awesome.  But yeah… Yeah.”  Ben slings the bookbag onto his back and stands.  “Can I walk you home?  Or I could swing ya.  Your choice.”

The kid’s eyes light up even brighter.  “I wanna– can we swing?”

“You bet!” 

He swaps the bookback to his chest and lets Eli climb on piggy-back style.  

“Hold onto your hat.  You want the scenic route?”

“What the hell was that earlier?”  

Ben's feet dangle over the edge.  He and Homelander had stopped to relax not long after the debacle with the kids. There had still been a few issues around the city that needed handling, but they finally found a quiet moment.  The top of Lady Liberty’s crown was the only place that seemed far enough away from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan, and they sat in near silence so long that the sun had started to paint the world in reds and golds.

“What do you mean?”  The bug asks, sadness thick in his voice despite every insistence that he was completely fine.

“Just, all that.” Homelander doesn’t know how to explain it.  The bug smelled like misery down to the atomic level from the moment he dropped the kid off, and there was obviously something personal in the way he’s been reacting to the situation.  “You take every wet puppy we come across to heart, but you usually get over it pretty quickly.  What’s the problem?”

It’s certainly irksome when the bug looks away.  Benjamin’s dismay is practically stinking up Lady Liberty’s entire head.

“It’s nothing.  Don’t worry about it.”

Which is such a fucking lie. It almost makes him furious. 

“Right, right.” He scoffs. “Your blood pressure is elevated over nothing.  Got a little jack rabbit thumpin’ in your chest over nothing.  Do you think I’m fucking stupid?”

“No, I just…” Ben sighs wistfully, but one of his uncomfortable chuckles cuts through it.  “It’s just a lot, y’know?”

Since fucking when has his talkative little spider ever learned the art of silence?  Christ, it’s almost a total role reversal of the other night.  Ben’s silent, but all Homelander wants is their normal, stupid banter.  He wants to hear about helping old broads cross the street and stopping bike thieves.  He wants to hear Ben’s ridiculous anecdotes and pestering questions. But now he’s being deprived, and for fucking what?  Because some pissant kid couldn’t fight off a pack of bullies?

“And I don’t wanna force you to be my therapist.”

As if the bug could force him to do anything. Time for a different approach. 

“Heh, try me.  I’ve been told I’ve got pretty strong shoulders.”  He pats one for good measure.  “Besides, the more you deny it, the more I want to know.”

The more I have to know…

Was there something not included in his file?  Something Homelander hadn’t scrounged up in that shithole apartment Benjamin had been living in?

“C’mon, get it off your chest before you stink up the whole statue.  Sad people smell bad.”  

He stares and stares until Ben cracks the smallest smile.  It would be fine if his eyes weren’t glassy.

“I just… ah, where to start…”

Probably at the beginning, he wants to say, but–

“That… happened to me.”  Ben says, clearing his throat after a moment.  “Just… really hit home, y’know?”

Oh.  

Oh…

Homelander’s eyes narrow.  He means to demand elaboration, but Ben beats him right to it.

“I… it was some kids at school.”  Ben takes a deep, shaky breath.  His blood pressure is climbing again, heart pounding, adrenaline brewing. He stares blankly into the dark nothingness of the river. “I dunno what they were even trying to prove, y’know? I figure you know all this already, but I wasn’t always a guy…”

He just nods.  Of course he already knows. Vought didn’t miss a beat with that dossier.  But, more importantly, Ben used to get harassed as a kid?  It seems nothing short of preposterous.  Benjamin’s a superhuman; he shouldn’t have a single problem putting filth beneath his boot–

“Apparently they were supposed to just beat my ass and prove a point, but I– it wasn’t…”  Benjamin pauses, collecting himself, eyes shut.

Homelander inches the slightest bit closer.  Never in his life has he ever felt a need so strong to pull someone into his arms.  Hell, he’s never even asked someone to drop all of their baggage like this before either.  He’s never cared.  Things like this are beneath him… But how quickly that lack of concern has morphed into woeful rage the likes of which he hasn’t felt in decades…

“T-They didn’t do a lot, y’know, just– just some, but...” 

Every sniffle, every crack in Ben’s voice rips Homelander’s heart to shreds. Someone had hurt his little spider.  

“And I…”  Ben wipes furiously at his eyes.  “I think– I think that t-those kids earlier were about to do the same thing to that boy and–” Ben finally looks over, eyes bloodshot and puffy. Devastated inside and out.  “Other than my old therapist and Jase, you’re the only one who knows about that now…”

His body moves on its own.  Homelander pulls Benjamin over, loops an arm around his back and another beneath his knees and hoists him into his lap for an embrace unlike any he’s ever given.  His heart hammers just as loudly as the bug’s.

“M’sorry,” comes the smallest, whimpering sob against the crook of his neck.  “S-Shit, I don’t– crying’s not– I usually don’t–”

“Shut up,” Homelander says softly, careful to keep even the slightest shred of rage off his tongue.  There would be time to find names later. Someday soon, hopefully.  “Cry your heart out, bug boy.  I can handle it.  Good shoulders, remember?”

Ben’s body shakes with a small laugh that interrupts whatever suppressed weep managed to slip free.

“T-They are cozy,” he hiccups.  “I’ll give ya that…”

He waits.  Waits and waits and waits until Ben’s cries cease and his vitals fall back to less distressed ranges.  By the sound of his breathing, he’s nearly wept himself to sleep.  So Homelander does the only thing that feels more right than dropping everything to raze that little shithole town where Benjamin was raised to the ground.

“I’ve gotcha,” he coos.  It’s the gentlest he’s ever taken off.  Just a tiny hop was all he needed to become weightless and rise higher and higher.  This is what he should’ve done right away.  

“What’s–”

“Your surprise,” he says as if it were so obvious.  “You like it?”

He certainly should regardless of how exhausted he may be.  The sun casts its red haze across the clouds, painting them perfect hues of scarlet and pink, sinking bit by bit more and more beneath the horizon.  The darkening blue of the sky threatens to overtake it all, like a god in and of itself ready to swallow the earth.

Ben clings to him even tighter.

“Relax. M’not gonna drop you.”  Homelander huffs a small chuckle.  

“I didn’t say you would,” yawns the bug.

God, their faces are so fucking close. 

“You’re being sticky,” he hums with a small roll of his eyes.  There’s not really a better way to describe it.  “Don’t you trust me?”

Say yes… Please fucking– just say yes.

“I do, just–” Benjamin sputters, eyes darting to and from his gaze.  “The heights, y’know?  Wait, you can feel that?”

“No, but I figured you were stuck to me.” He teases, grinning from ear to ear.

The resulting giggle is like sweet music to his ears.  It’s silent for a moment while the bug takes it all in.

“You can just– you can just do this like it’s nothing…” Ben murmurs after a while.  “You’re amazing,”

“Mm, tell me more.”

“If I do that, your head won’t fit through my doorway anymore,” Benjamin chuckles.  “But yeah…. Yeah.”

Just for that lovely compliment, Homelander decides the bug has earned a full sunset.  Not until the sun fades away completely does he decide to descend and, even then, the bug is already halfway dozed off again.  Messy hair tickles his cheek and he’s so glad Ben can’t see the smile he’s struggling to keep at bay.

Because it’s endearing, he tells himself.

He flies as slow as possible to savor the moment. It's awkward to maneuver two bodies through the access hatch at once, but he manages to do it all the same.

Part of him expected Ben to hop down as soon as they were inside, but, to his surprise, the bug does nothing of the sort.  He clings weakly all the way back to the bedroom, and those arms don’t quite unloop from around his neck even after he lays Benjamin on the bed.

Their eyes meet and the space between them is so very small.  No different at all than when he’d stolen that sweet, sleepy kiss…

“Hope you enjoyed flying air-Homelander,” he murmurs, smiling softly.  All the rage he’s felt since Ben’s confession has melted away, replaced by butterflies and fondness that feels so sweet that it could give him a cavity at any moment.  “You’ve arrived at your destination…”

Instead of letting go, those arms pull Homelander into a warm embrace.  No one ever really knows that Homelander can quite literally sniff them out.  Every little chemical the brain makes tickles his bloodhound nose in some way or another.  And Benjamin..?

“Mm, thanks, Homie…”

He smells sweet. 

“Of course.”

Warm.  Welcoming. 

“Get some sleep,” Homelander hums. The arms at his neck fall slowly and he tugs a blanket up to Ben’s chin.  Even after he leaves– reluctantly, of course– and with a troubled mind, he can’t shake that scent.  Serotonin, norepinephrine, oxytocin, vasopressin…

He smells like love.

Oh god.  Oh god…

He’s paced back and forth through the penthouse for hours now working through the hurricane of emotions sweeping through both his heart and mind.  There was rage.  Pure, unbridled, wrath at the fact someone had harmed his sweet Benjamin.  That they’d done such damage to the boy… it wasn’t enough to even fathom rolling heads.  It had to be more. 

He’d clenched his gloved fists over and over again, each creak of the leather a promise of how he’d crunch bones and sinew between his fingers and rip them limb from limb.  He’d savor it.  Every second would be perfect.  There were no faces yet to attach to these fantasies.  But soon, the very minute the staff clocked in, he’d put analytics’ sniffers on the trail.  They’d scrounge up something.  They fucking better.

Look at you, all in a twist over the bug.

His reflection stares back in the mirror, but there’s a lack of anger.  There’s no ridicule in its eyes.

“I–”  He swallows thickly, eyes darting between the window and mirror.  “I hate that someone… hurt him.”

I know, John.  I know… Why is that, do you think?

“I don’t–”  He swallows again, letting loose a shuddering breath.  He does know.  Dare he speak the words?  It was just a fixation, damn it!  For so long, it was just a fixation.  Just watching Ben through the walls of his shitty apartment, just floating out of sight to watch him swing to work, just watching – just… 

It’s the same reason you’re so afraid of the next few days.  They’ll be over.  You don’t know if he’ll keep coming around.  Chatting with you, sitting on rooftops, hanging out.  

It was undeniable.  As much as he tries to bury the feeling, there’s anxiety bubbling in droves over the idea of their mentorship week ending.  He’s never really had something like this.  Ben feels like a friend.  Sure, sometimes he’s a pain in the ass and he never shuts up, but he’s so…

C’mon, tiger! Do the math.  You snubbed Madelyn for him this morning.  What, you can’t put two and two together?

“I can’t–”

Can’t what?  Admit it?  Because that makes it too–

“Real.”  He deadpans.  It makes it too real.  These feelings, the reason he felt the need to sneak that little kiss, the way his heart fluttered earlier… letting Ben dump his baggage and not sneering or telling him off… 

“I–”

Just then, his phone dings from across the room and a jolt of excitement sparks through his body like a barrage of lightning.  He knows without even looking.  He knows because no one fucking texts him let alone talks to him after work hours.  His number was seemingly business only for so long, until…

Along came a spider.

He smiles sheepishly and does an awkward little run to his phone.  He chucks his gloves off on the way and grabs it with delight, hoping beyond hope that it’s–

-can’t sleep :( wanna do another movie if you’re not already asleep?  i’ll let you pick-

Giddiness rises in his chest and tugs the corners of his mouth into a big, happy grin.  Duh, he wants to say.  But he doesn’t reply at all.  Instead, he’s down the side of the building and inside the hatch within moments.  His hands shake slightly as he shuts it.  The barely-there citrus scent and the aroma of popcorn greets his nose first thing, and it feels so right.  

Ben’s in the kitchen to greet him, standing there in his boxers and a t-shirt while his snack of choice pops away in the microwave.  A thrill runs up his spine at the sight.

What a way to end the day.

[power-chords]

Worth keeping in mind when encountering the terminally online types who think there is a such thing as “immoral” fictional content that should not be represented in art or even imagined in the privacy of one’s own mind, and that anyone who derives pleasure/value from such content should be designated either an active or latent predator: they’re hypocrites. This is why they have to tie themselves in such convoluted, arbitrary knots over what taboo subject matter is Good and Safe to create or enjoy, and under which specific, frequently contradictory conditions. Nothing is more consistently and predictably attractive to the human psyche than the Forbidden, so much so that there are whole genres of art (and not just erotic or pornographic art!) exploring these conventions.

"Kill the cop in your head" is an amusing refrain because not only is it the only solid ethical directive, it's the only sane and reasonable one. Human beings do not, by and large, have all that much conscious control over what imaginative material excites or intrigues them. Trying to impose order on a lawless realm is waging a war you're guaranteed to lose. We can only control what we do, which impulses or desires we choose to act upon; it ought to go without saying that there is no neat, clean, conveniently generalizable relationship between what we enjoy vicariously through fiction/fantasy and what we want to do to other people or have happen to us in the real world. It is both regressive and depressingly anti-humanist to assume you have any conclusive insight into what that relationship might be for any given individual, and that you can perform armchair risk assessments or psychological evaluations on strangers!

[ineffable-opinions]

BL: Romancing in a Bubble?

As always, please let me know if you have suggestions, critiques, comments or corrections.

I will only be discussing BL broadly (here I use BL as an umbrella term) and not just live action. I don’t want to club together BL and GL since in spite of their shared roots they are very different in their genre conventions, target demographics, and history. Also, I am not very familiar with it.

I consider BL a genre in itself – practically well as the way Masala is a cinema genre.

Please check the content/trigger warnings before diving into the works I have mentioned below. Feel free to message or ask.

BL / romance

I don’t think BL is romance or even a sub-genre of romance. A lot of BL is romance. Many more of them have at least a romantic side to them. There is enough overlap between those genres to give the impression that BL is romance. (I remember the discussion Killing Stalking had prompted.)

But there are plenty of BL devoid of romance. Like One Room Angel, Social Reform Season, and The Orc Bride. Similarly, BL is not exactly a porn sub-genre even though there are plenty of ero-BL.

Also, there are plenty of BL where romance takes backseat such as The Night Beyond the Tricornered Window, Blue Morning, Brother, Lawless Gangster and Thousand Autumns.

BL / queer

Queer – Can I call it a genre the way I call BL a genre? Even if one were to ignore queer as method in academia, it is still so complex.

Let me quote Taiwanese tongzhi (queer) author Chiang-Sheng Kuo:

[W]hat exactly is queer literature? Is it queer literature if queer people like to read it, or is it only queer literature if there are queer characters in the books? Or is it an appendage of the queer movement? If a queer author writes a book without queer characters, does that represent a certain aspect of queer culture?

(You can find the whole interview here.)

I think the problem persist even when I think of queer as a label.

Then there is the issue with conception of “queerness” itself. Like, in a way it is a limiting term. Is it fair to call normative or customary male-male erotic practices such as masti and Launda Naach, “queer” just because that’s how it is perceived elsewhere now?

To quote what Kaustav Bakshi wrote in Writing the LGBTIHQ+ movement in Bangla:

In the last decade, the question of decolonizing queer epistemologies was being raised periodically, whereby queer politics, despite having a shared agenda of toppling heteronormativity, and queer culture, albeit having a shared aesthetics, became more and more regionalist – not in a negative sense – but, with implications of difference, which can be interpreted and understood only when one subjectively experiences the ‘region’ with respect to gender, class, caste, ethnicity, physical and intellectual ability, access to education, metropolitan cultures, and most importantly, the internet.

[T]he attraction towards the launda is not understood as ‘queer’ – non-normative or out of the ordinary – but, as an integral part of sexual life, which is not always compulsively alert to the heterosexual-homosexual binary.

Imo, decolonizing queer epistemologies comes in handy when discussing BL since there are plenty of BL dealing with:

Historical BL set in eras and locations that had customary male-male sexualities and practices.

BL with special settings, like omegaverse, with different (if any) idea of queerness.

BL / other queer content

Just as Japan has gei-comi, and other manga like Shoujo Manga Artist Minamoto-San Comes Out, and Kieta Hatsukoi (shoujo), What Did You Eat Yesterday and My Brother's Husband (seinen) beside BL manga, different countries offer diversity in queer content with noticeable overlap. But clubbing them together would not be easy. Moreover, this diversity is as much cross-sectional as it is temporal (tanbi, JUNE, shonen ai, yaoi, BL in Japan).

BL the main difference between BL and other queer genres is BL’s focus on moe (affect). Anyway, BL predates LGBTQ+ acronym. It predates de-pathologization of homosexuality in many BL creating regions. Fu-people (BL fans) were creating BL before mainstream media started representing queer people in media. Fu-people battled state and its censors everywhere along with queer people. Live action BL is commercialized and we get mostly feel-good content. But that is capitalism (and the State) reaping the dividends of decades of fu-people’s labor of love.

I wonder if it is apt to consider BL the way western queer shows (such Verbotene Liebe, Queer as Folks, Os Nossos Dias and SKAM) as benchmark when discussing BL? Won’t it be better to evaluate consider BL in relation to local non-BL queer content in BL producing countries? But then, there are BL inspired by western queer culture such as Partners by Tamaki Yura.

Here are three gei-comi that I recommend for BL audience, through which they can get an insight into non-BL queer manga from Japan (created with androphilic men as target audience) :

Fire Code by Ichikawa Kazuhide

Fisherman's Lodge by Gengoroh Tagame

Coming Home by Go Fujimoto

Here is my BL versus gei-comi list which I think highlights their differences and similarities (I have included only Gengoroh Tagame’s works since they are probably the easiest to access/buy/borrow):

Do You Remember South Island P.O.W. Camp? by Gengoroh Tagame || Hitori de Yoru wa Koerarenai by Matsumoto Yoh

Arena by Gengoroh Tagame || Jinx by Mingwa

Cretian Cow by Gengoroh Tagame || The Orc Bride by Madobuchiya (Nishin)

Uo to Mizu by Gengoroh Tagame || Terpenoid by Okadaya Tetuzoh

My Brother's Husband by Gengoroh Tagame || The Story of My Brother by Ike Reibun

There is lot of overlap between BL and gei-comi. Gengoroh Tagame first published in JUNE (a magazine that contributed to BL we know now). There are magazines and anthologies (Nikutaiha BL) that offer crossover between different streams of queer content.

Similarly, there are danmei (Chinese BL) novel written by queer men such as the autobiographical works: Six Records of a Floating Life and Waiting Until 35 Years Old by NanKang BaiQi and Bei Cheng Tian Jie (北城天街) by FeiTian YeXiang.

BL / Queerness - exploration and conflict

Here are some live action BL (I’m not including some of the more famous ones like TharnType and Wedding Plan) where plot is rooted in character’s queerness and its exploration or implications:

Lan Yu – first danmei to get live action adaptation. The central conflict is rooted in the queerness of its characters, particularly Chen HanDong.

A Round Trip to Love and Irresistible Love – based on danmei by Lan Lin. These are part of a shared universe. The former has both ‘coming out’ (Cheng Yichen) and ‘leaving home’ (Lu Feng). In the latter, all the conflict is rooted in compulsory heterosexuality and we get the perspective of not only an amphiphilic (bisexual) man (Xie Yan) but also an amphiphilic woman (Xia Jun) of the same social class.

Boys Love: The Movie

No Touching At All (2014)

Udagawachou de Matteteyo (2015)

The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese

Sing in Love (2022) – Queerness is part of the main conflict.

Mood Indigo

Life: Senjou no Bokura

Light on Me

I don’t keep track of these things usually, so this is based off memory.

In Japan, most BL has dealt with the struggles of being queer in a largely heterosexist society since the days of tanbi and shonen-ai (such as Zankoku Na Kami Ga Shihai Suru by Hagio Moto). JUNE gained notoriety for focusing on it and yaoi boom was movement away from that. Then yaoi gained notoriety for existing in a bubble. When BL started to treat heterosexism in society as a part of the narrative, it garnered praise for being ‘transformative’.

BL has managed to carry within it different modes of identity and queerness.

Take Okane ga Nai (No Money) by Hitoyo Shinozaki and Toru Kousaka for example.

It is often held up as the epitome of all that is wrong with BL (or yaoi as anglophone fandom calls it). What’s less talked about is the main character, Ayase Yukiya’s queer angst and his exploration of identity that spans several volumes of the manga series. Kano on the other hand doesn’t struggle with his identity at all since his attraction to Ayase is driven by a very strong, initially unreciprocated emotional connection dependency (formed when his father died and he was at his lowest). For him, sexuality is merely a form of expression of his attraction for Ayase. Therefore, it does not inform his identity in anyway.

Within cannon, Someya and Honda’s pairing offer contrast to Ayase and Kano’s pairing. In a way, Kano and Someya have post-queer and pre-queer identities, respectively. Someya is a self-actualized person who mentors other queer characters (club staff, Ayase, Honda, Kano). There is a lot of give and take that happens between Ayase and all the queer people he meets at Someya’s club. Ayase's and Honda’s struggles with identity and sexuality are juxtaposed with Kano's and Someya's self-assured disposition.

That is also why I don’t think I Told Sunset About You stands out much. It can easily fit into the BL fold because there are plenty of BL that approached the same theme as I Told Sunset About You in a similar fashion (including these live action BL: His - Koisuru Tsumori Nante Nakatta, Life: Senjou no Bokura and The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese).  

I recommend the danmei novel Sissy by Shui QianCheng, the author of the works Beloved Enemy, My Stand-In and Meet You at the Blossom are based on, for a more detailed exploration of heterosexism, including femmephobia and homophobia.

Sissy, Beloved Enemy and Professional Body Double (the novel My Stand-in is based on) are all part of 188 group (a shared universe of novels).

There are plenty of other BL from other region that are focus on themes such as heterosexism and compulsory heterosexuality. Here is such a one-shot: Romantic by Motoni Modoru (part of the anthology Tanbishugi).

BL / terms

I like BL and associated terms like danmei because of the culture and the history associated with those terms. Tanbi and danmei are different readings of same characters 耽美 but they represent very different things. Shonen-ai literally translate to boy(s) love but that term (or BRM (boys’ romantic manga) as Emiko Nozawa puts it) carries within it so much history and specific artistic styles and sensibilities. Waai is derived from yaoi/yuri but there are fu-cultural processes, very different from that of yaoi creation, behind the production of Y-novels. I learned a lot from exploring these words alone.

[daitranscripts]

Iron Bull Conversation: Investigate

Let's Talk About Being Qunari

Iron Bull Masterpost

PC: There are few here who understand what it means to be Qunari.

Iron Bull: You’re not Qunari. You’re Tal-Vashoth. World of difference.

Dialogue options:

General: I’m proud of it. [1]

General: I wish I’d known the Qun. [2]

General: I’m still different. [3]

1 - General: I’m proud of it. PC: My parents raised me to be free. I’m grateful to them. Iron Bull: Fine. Their call. [4]

2 - General: I wish I’d known the Qun.\ PC: My parents were wrong to make that decision for me. Iron Bull: If they hadn’t, they wouldn’t have been your parents. You’d have grown up with the tamassarans. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. You’ve got too much personality to make a good Qunari. [4]

3 - General: I’m still different. PC: I still grew up looking like this in a world of mostly humans. Iron Bull: Yeah, fair enough. [4]

4 - Scene continues.

Iron Bull: You didn’t turn into a murdering bandit, so I guess we’re fine. You want to know anything about the Qunari, since we’re talking about them?

5 - Dialogue options:

General: What does “Qunari” mean? [6]

Investigate: What’s wrong with Tal-Vashoth? [7]

Investigate: How do they govern? [8]

Investigate: Do you not marry? [9]

Investigate: Day-to-day life. [10]

Investigate: How is it growing up? [11]

Investigate: And if Thedas fell to the Qun? [12]

General: Goodbye. [13]

6 - General: What does “Qunari” mean? PC: The word “Qunari”—does it mean what we are, the race, or is it anyone who follows the Qun? Iron Bull: Depends on who you ask. Are you Qunari or Tal-Vashoth? The humans and elves who follow the Qun are the viddathari. The Qunari who break away from the Qun are Tal-Vashoth. Deserters.

Dialogue options:

Special: And those who predate the Qun? [14]

[Back to 5]

14 - Special: And those who predate the Qun? PC: What about Qunari who existed before the Qun? Iron Bull: The people we came from… they’re called the kossith. But we don’t use that word for the race. We came south to Thedas because the kossith were… I don’t know. We had to leave. The stories aren’t clear. But I don’t expect that they look much like us, whatever they are. [back to 5]

7 - Investigate: What’s wrong with Tal-Vashoth? PC: What’s your problem with Tal-Vashoth? Iron Bull: As Ben-Hassrath, my job back home was keeping the peace, helping people live by the Qun. Tal-Vashoth turned their back on all that, decided they’d rather live like savages. The Qun isn’t perfect, but at least there’s some sense to it.

Dialogue options:

General: My parents weren’t savages. [15]

General: The Qun offers no choice. [16]

General: That’s a good point. [17]

15 - General: My parents weren’t savages. PC: Well, good. They aren’t the kind of Tal-Vashoth I’ve got a problem with, then. [18] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 16 - General: The Qun offers no choice. PC: Qunari society gives its people no guidelines on how to live without following the Qun. Of course most of them turn into lawless bandits once they break away from it. Iron Bull: Just ‘cause I understand it doesn’t make it right. They could have stayed, tried to change the Qunari from within. Instead, they gave up everything they had. [18] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 17 - General: That’s a good point. PC: I hadn’t thought of it that way. Iron Bull: I got to see the results up close. They weren’t pretty. [18] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 18 - Scene continues. Iron Bull: Look, if you’re worried I’m going to attack you, don’t be. I had a lifetime of fighting Tal-Vashoth. You’re not the kind I hate. [back to 5]

8 - Investigate: How do they govern? PC: How do the Qunari rule themselves? Iron Bull: It’s pretty simple. We’ve got the matriarchy, the priesthood, and the military. The priesthood figures out how Qunari should live in theory. The matriarchy makes it work in practice… And the military keeps the Qunari safe from outside threats.

Dialogue options:

Special: Is there much dissent? [19]

[Back to 5]

19 - Special: Is there much dissent? PC: Does it actually work like that? Is there much infighting? Iron Bull: Not like you’re thinking of. People disagree, yeah, but the priests are there to solve disagreements. Here in Orlais, politicking comes from people putting their own gain ahead of the gains of society. If you do that among the Qunari, the Ben-Hassrath set you straight. Or kill you. [back to 5]

9 - Investigate: Do you not marry? PC: I heard there’s no marriage among the Qunari. Iron Bull: Yeah, that’s true. Qunari love our friends like anyone does, but we don’t have sex with them. PC: Qunari don’t have sex? Iron Bull: Oh, we definitely have sex. There are tamassrans who pop your cork whenever you need it.

Dialogue options:

Special: What, really? [20]

[Back to 5]

20 - Special: What, really? PC: Seriously? Iron Bull: Yeah. It’s not a big deal like it is here. It’s like… I don’t know, going to see a healer? Sometimes it’s this long involved thing. It takes all day, leaves you walking funny… Other times, you’re in and out in five minutes. (Clicks tongue.) “Thank you, see you next week!”

Dialogue options:

Flirt: You don’t know true passion? [21]

General: I don’t know what to say. [22]

General: That’s bizarre. [23]

General: Sounds great. [24]

21 - Flirt: You don’t know true passion? PC: So you’ve never really made love? Connected with someone in both body and soul? Iron Bull: I don’t know. One time they used this thing called the saartoh nehrappan. It’s a leather-wrapped rod on a harness… That wasn’t really my soul, though. Also, there were more than two people. [back to 5] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 22 - General: I don’t know what to say. PC: That sounds… different. Iron Bull: Yep. [25] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 23 - General: That’s bizarre. PC: Sometimes I think I understand how different the Qunari are… and then I talk to you. Iron Bull: Yep. [25] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 24 - General: Sounds great. PC: I could work with that. Iron Bull: I know, right? No drama. [25] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 25 - Scene continues. ㅤㅤ ㅤ Iron Bull: Still, it’s more fun here. Fewer rituals, more making it up as you go along. Plus, you folk have redheads. (Sighs.) Redheads. [back to 5]

10 - Investigate: Day-to-day life. PC: How is everyday life different for Qunari? Iron Bull: Depends on your job, I guess. Some are just about the same. A baker in Val Royeaux gets up, gets dressed, and starts work. A baker in Par Vollen does the same thing. They don’t care about the empire or the Qun. Mostly, they worry about breaking eggs and hope the dough rises right.

Dialogue options:

Special: Except that baker isn’t free. [26]

[Back to 5]

26 - Special: Except that baker isn’t free. PC: It can’t be exactly the same. The Qunari have no personal freedoms. Iron Bull: How many personal freedoms do you figure that baker in Val Royeaux has? Life isn’t about freedom. The baker in Par Vollen wonders if she’ll be given enough eggs to do her work. Will they come on time? Will the kitchen workers get her bread while it’s fresh, or will they come late and blame her ’cause it’s stale? Same crap in Val Royeaux. People are just people. [back to 5]

11 - Investigate: How is it growing up? PC: What’s it like growing up under the Qun? Iron Bull: The tamassrans raise us in these units of kids all our own age. They’re like teachers or Chantry sisters. They also help figure out what jobs we should do. They had me pegged for military work early on. When they learned I could hit stuff and lie, they started training me for the Ben-Hassrath.

Dialogue options:

General: So no families? [27]

General: You didn’t choose your job? [28]

General: You must have been proud. [29] +Iron Bull slightly approves

27 - General: So no families? PC: ou never knew your parents? Iron Bull: Nope. I know, for you folks, that’s a big deal. The tamassrans were like our parents, though. Taught us to read, helped us go to sleep, all the parent stuff. I remember the one who helped me build things with blocks. She laughed when I knocked everything down. [back to 5] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 28 - General: You didn’t choose your job? PC: So the Qun decided what work you would do? You didn’t get a choice? Iron Bull: I could’ve acted like I didn’t like hitting things, I guess. But why would I do that? I was good at my work. I liked doing it. Far as I can tell, the tamassrans made the right call. [back to 5] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 29 - General: You must have been proud. PC: That must have been a good day for you. Iron Bull: Yeah. It’s like being a block of stone with a sculptor working on you. One day, the last of the crap gets knocked off, and you can see your real shape, what you’re supposed to be. That’s a good day. [back to 5]

12 - Investigate: And if Thedas fell to the Qun? PC: Do you ever think about what would happen if the Qunari conquered Orlais or Ferelden? Iron Bull: Some folks, like Cassandra or Cullen, would do fine… if they didn’t die fighting. Those two love rules. But the mages…

Iron Bull (Vivienne and Dorian recruited): Vivienne’s too political, Dorian’s too arrogant, and Solas is just weird. They’d all end up dead… or worse.

Iron Bull (Dorian recruited, Vivienne not recruited): Can you imagine Solas trying his Fade-dreaming under the Qun? Or Dorian thinking of someone besides himself?

Iron Bull(Vivienne recruited, Dorian not recruited): Can you imagine Solas trying his Fade-dreaming under the Qun? Or Vivienne doing her political bullshit?

Iron Bull (Vivienne and Dorian not recruited): Look at Solas. All that wandering in the Fade? They’d at least kill him.

Iron Bull (Cole and Sera recruited): They’d kill Cole, ’cause, you know, demon. And Sera would end up with her mind broken, sweeping floors in some shop.

Iron Bull (Cole recruited, Sera not recruited): They’d kill Cole, ’cause, you know, demon. And Varric would mouth off one too many times, get reeducated by force.

Iron Bull (Sera recruited, Cole not recruited): Both Sera and Varric would mouth off until they ended up reeducated–drugged until their minds broke.

Iron Bull (Cole and Sera not recruited): Varric’s tall tales would land him a reeducation prison, drugged until his mind broke.

Iron Bull: So, to answer your question: no, I don’t think about it much at all. [back to 5]

13 - General: Goodbye. PC: See you later, Bull.

[eugenedebs1920]

This election is about the future. Our fates are in our hands. The decision we make in a few days will dictate the next 30 or more years of our lives. Do we want a man who will continue his enrichment of the rich, his patronizing of the poor, his vendetta on his verdicts, the continued marginalization of the middle class, his crusade against the constitution, trampling of the truth, destroying of democracy,lessening of our liberties, his assault on the dream of ordinary Americans.

Or would we want a woman who’s life’s work has been to service, who’s been protecting the people, standing up for the small, prosecuting the predators, helping the helpless, finding the forgotten, bravely busting the big banks, litigating against the lawless, in her quest to defend democracy, restore our republic, assure our allies, frighten and frustrate our foes, expand our economy, curb the corruption, pursue progress, move the middle class more towards financial independence, together with her tenacity, forever fighting for freedom , for us, unified once again as the people of the United States of America!!

The choice is ours…

[the-rainbow-lesbian]

I realized I am irritated with a lot of young people today participating in "activism" because everything they do is motivated by hate, they don't want to improve society or improve conditions for people, they want to destroy everything. like yes I passively made jokes "haha yeah america sucks man :)" but there is a lot of things I love about this country. there are people I care deeply about, I have freedoms and liberties in this country that were denied to me back home, I don't want it to be destroyed, I want things to improve.

if the government is destroyed and we become a lawless and anarchist society, then what? the social benefits/protections that we have are inefficient and lacking, but people who rely on them will be in worse situations and possibly die if they're gone, and yes law enforcement could be doing more to protect citizens and women specially but can you imagine if that was completely gone and predators didn't even worry about the consequences of their actions? what if a totalitarian fascist government takes over? if you think things are bad now, trust me they can get much, much worse.

your activism should comes from a place of compassion and love for your community, yes hate is a valid emotion but it shouldn't override everything else.

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

Jesper: Desperately trying not to laugh at Wy frantically shouting ‘Im an apex predator! An apex predator!’ at a seagull who was waddling closer and closer to him and his sandwich

Wylan: I could have DIED!

Jesper: But you’re an apex predator

Wylan:

Wylan: Seagulls are lawless

[mightyflamethrower]

They wanted to know how many people would comply with a complete re-ordering of their lives based on no science at all, just random orders, some of which bordered on absurdity.

I have long said that Covid 19 was launched by design by a small number of people in the globalist predator class for one reason and one reason only — as a beta test for the coming technocratic new world order.

Now, we’ve got the World Economic Forum coming out and all but admitting that was exactly why the Covid-19 “pandemic” had to happen.

The WEF gleefully posted the following snippet to the “My Carbon” page of its website where they make a pitch for so-called smart cities, which is just another term for 15-minute cities.

The first of three “developments” that the WEF says must be in place before the world can evolve into its utopian vision of “smart and sustainable cities,” is compliance with restrictions on our freedom. It writes:

1. COVID-19 was the test of social responsibility – A huge number of unimaginable restrictions for public health were adopted by billions of citizens across the world. There were numerous examples globally of maintaining social distancing, wearing masks, mass vaccinations and acceptance of contact-tracing applications for public health, which demonstrated the core of individual social responsibility.

They were testing us. That’s what Covid was all about. They wanted to see how many of us would give up our individual freedom and individual sovereignty by complying with a “new normal” that consisted of restrictions bordering on the absurd.

Why, for instance was it “safe” to shop at Lowe’s or Home Depot but unsafe to shop at a small business or attend church? Why was it OK to go to strip clubs in Michigan but you couldn’t buy seeds for a garden?

What the WEF is implying with its above statement is that in order to be “sustainable,” people and societies will need to be compliant with a new more authoritarian global order. Don’t ask questions. Don’t resort to logic. Just obey.

Would we be obedient in the face of idiotic new laws and regulations, like wearing face diapers to stop what was said to be an aerosolized virus, and standing six feet apart in public, and submitting to a never-before-used, unlicensed mRNA gene-based injection?

They said it was good for you, so roll up your sleeve. Don’t ask questions. If you did, you could lose your job and be treated as a societal outcast. Many people lost friends or even close family members to this monstrous “test” of our willingness to unquestioningly do what we’re told.

Nearly five years later, arguably the most powerful nonprofit public-private partnership in the world, the WEF, admits it was all a test of our wills and celebrates the fact that most of us failed the test (or passed with flying colors depending how you look at it).

They wanted to find out how many of us would prove our servitude to the lawless, fascistic beast system by complying with “unimaginable restrictions,” many of which were created out of thin air with absolutely no scientific evidence to back them up as contributing anything to public health.

The U.S. government’s top health bureaucrat, Dr. Anthony Fauci, admitted recently that there was no science behind his decision to require Americans to socially distance six feet apart.

The beta test known as Covid-19 proved once again the validity of the The Milgram Experiment. This experiment was conducted in 1961-1962 by Yale University professor Stanley Milgram.

It showed that the overwhelming majority of Americans would obey a law or command that they knew was wrong if the order were to come from an official authority figure. An alarming 65 percent of Americans would reluctantly violate their own conscience and obey the order even if they knew it would result in the death of an innocent person.

Trending: Here’s the Real Reason Why Hunter Biden Shocked the Courtroom and Pleaded Guilty in Federal Tax Evasion Case

From Wikipedia:

Beginning on August 7, 1961, a series of social psychology experiments were conducted by Yale University psychologist Stanley Milgram, who intended to measure the willingness of study participants to obey an authority figure who instructed them to perform acts conflicting with their personal conscience. Participants were led to believe that they were assisting an unrelated experiment, in which they had to administer electric shocks to a “learner.” These fake electric shocks gradually increased to levels that would have been fatal had they been real.

The experiments found, unexpectedly, that a very high proportion of subjects would fully obey the instructions, with every participant going up to 300 volts, and 65% going up to the full 450 volts. Milgram first described his research in a 1963 article in the Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology[1].

The Bad News is that we passed the test with flying colors.

[lacyjanes]

"Eclipse"

Sixteen thousand miles away,

I am Cairo; You are Auckland.

I am the moon, waiting to pass you,

Not to cover your light but to hold your heated fingertips.

I am the lighthouse to your battleships.

I wait for your return with seawater as my only companion,

And though you never come, I never think of your abandon.

I read your letters in brazen black ink,

That you await me, for the day you see my distant golden blink.

330 years, I haven't seen you fully.

My blemished and cratered body only comes when your fiery light burns down.

When you leave, I come wordless, without a sound,

The people groan when I come to town.

But to you, Oh light, They rejoice for the day,

They wish you'd last forever. They pray you always stay.

But to me, I am the home of predators, of fear, of sleep,

And when I come, they pray the Lord, their soul to keep.

You are too good for me, Oh lover in gold,

You are goodness incarnate, the righteous creation of God foretold,

Who was born to dispel me, my love of darkness,

To cradle his children in blessed from the parlous.

“We are not fated to meet,” I say.

“But oh yes we are,” You argue.

“Every year, every twice it,” You continue.

And though I bite, it is quite true —

As true as the fact I am in love with you.

I do not want to kiss you,

Because your righteous sunlight will penetrate my empty skin,

Destroy my craters, burn my sin.

Your eyes cut through mine as if they were paper thin,

and I start to think of what peril I'm in.

You are not mine, Dear Daylight,

You are not mine to keep.

For you kneel in church pews and offer your soul to the Lord our God,

But I am the home to thieves and fraud.

I'm lawless, callous, disastrous, and everything you hate,

And though I love you, I cannot defy fate.

So I run. I don't know what to do, so I run.

I fear you, I come undone when I'm near you.

So I take my heavy body,

And travel through the cosmos to get away from you.

Water flows from my holes and craters,

So I don't hear your footsteps.

I never noticed, but you were always running after me.

You screamed my name, I did not hear it.

Years will fly before you can catch me again.

And when you do, slowly, I'll run past you.

I'll destroy you, I'll eat your light alive.

I'll block out your day, your children won't thrive.

But to my surprise, the last we met, you kissed my callous lips.

“My moon, my joy!” You cried,

“Don't run away from me again.”

“Don't touch me. I am no cloud. No bird. No heaven.”

You, clueless you, start to ask, “And then?”

You say I am your harbor,

That through jagged rocks and mountainscapes,

My light is the only thing you honor.

You won’t let me go, I am in your grasp once more.

You won’t bear my sweet escape.

But I will, Dear Starlight.

I will, over and over again.

You won’t catch me again in broad daylight.

You will find me in stories, in wisps,

In memories of my moonlight kiss.

Forever, you will only see me in thine eclipse.

[mlmxreader]

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last update: 24/08/2024, 23:42 (GMT)

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LOTR/The Hobbit

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Mortal Kombat

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RDR2

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Marvel

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DC

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Peaky Blinders

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Inglourious Basterds

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The Boys

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James Bond

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Narcos

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Prisoners (2013)

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Scream

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A Walk Among The Tombstones

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Silent Hill

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Sons Of Anarchy

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My Bloody Valentine (2009)

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Hellboy

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Fight Club

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Breaking Bad

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We Can Be Heroes

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Predator (film series)

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Netflix!Sandman

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Burnt (2015)

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The Nice Guys

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Blade Runner 2049

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Django Unchained

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The Gray Man

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The Alienist

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The Cloverfield Paradox

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Star Wars

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Doctor Sleep

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Game Of Thrones

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Triple Frontier

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The Haunting

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Band Of Brothers

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Call Of Duty

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Mad Max

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Lawless

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Warrior

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The Drop

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Inception

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Taboo

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Supernatural

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Fallout

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John Wick

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Law and Order: SVU

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[dailymothanon]

I felt like blue was a swaggy color yesterday 👍 so I doodled with it 😼 can you believe? Men in love? That’s so cool, shoutout to them. Did I make one of Maine’s bracelets a centipede? Yes. Why? I thought it’d be pretty cool. (rants in read more)

Shorts weather goes crazy, it’s been 50-60° up here lately and lord it’s so hot, but summer is usually 70-90°+ and I hope it stays 70

I think. Alaska’s favorite color would be blue. I have reasons.

For one, a lot of his state symbols are blue, and I’ve always associated ptarmigans with a soft light bluish greenish cuz my elementary school was fantastic and lovely and the school’s color was that and their mascot is the ptarmigan, it’s a native school

Second, he likes space… which has a lot of blue usually, I’m not really sure tho

Third, if he’s a whale expert he probably really likes sea creatures, not to mention having more coast than the whole lower 48 combined and surrounded by three seas and two oceans; plus, moose are known to actually love to swim so much so that orcas are one of their predators

I looked at a ton of native beading and kuspuks and a very very common color was blue and purple, I’m assuming it’s cuz it contrasts with the usually fur made clothing (I think Maine has gifted Alaska with really nice beads before, hopefully as a bonus they were not plastic, thatd be pretty cool)

lastly, blue isn’t really known to be an overwhelming color? I’m not too sure, but it’s usually known as a calm color, I think Alaska would appreciate that

Which kinda blues would he prefer?? i aint too sure. i havent thought that far yet, but who says he cant like many blues

Another Alaska hc is that Alaska used to be bad with alcohol. I read Russians introduced natives to hard liquor to gain advantages over them, in leading to generational trauma.

Alaska was probably introduced to it when he was young and he figured drinking was the only thing making his suffering by their hands a little more bearable each drop he took. And maybe throughout his lawless territory era it was still pretty bad and eventually during mushing (i imagine he took up a mushing mailing job cuz it kept him away from people the most) he got pretty injured cuz of it and he then realized then that if he continued like that he may accidentally get one of his dogs hurt and that scared him. He wasn't really bad towards anyone when he drank tho, just very shut down i imagine. But now i think he can handle drinking well, but tries to make sure of what and how much he drinks (my excuse for this is that Alaska has strict drinking laws, its illegal to even get drunk in a bar, but i think thats for the better. The roads are dangerous enough as is) as per the awa'uq massacre, awa'uq means "to become numb" and i think that would be how Alaska would describe what it was like for him during those times

[rivetgoth]

I honestly think as someone who goes out clubbing (or to an adjacent nightlife social event) like 1-3x a week on average, and especially as like, a kinda faggy short guy tbqh, I would say genuinely one of thee biggest like, skills to learn is how to both be appropriately discerning and able to read people's vibes quickly to stay safe but also not close your heart completely to new people and give the appropriate benefit of the doubt as well?

I think I'm a particularly picky person when it comes to meeting new people tbh, I will pretty quickly decide someone is not trustworthy over what may appear to be minor missteps but it is because it's not a risk I'm willing to take. especially after the aforementioned years in the nightlife mentioned above. But I also really try to leave room for understanding that we're all awkward and weird and many of us in the scene are autistic and/or otherwise neurodivergent or struggling with social skills and we're in a community literally made by and for weirdos where drugs and alcohol are often involved; nobody is perfect, so it's learning to have an open heart and not have preconceived biases or make assumptions about people but also like, being willing to shut down shit that turns you off fast.

Like not to pat myself on the back but I'm gonna be honest, I have had soooooo many cases where I met someone, got a Weird Vibe, which sounds shallow but I don't mean "ooh they act kinda funny" I mean "huh that person showed subtle signs of not respecting boundaries like touching strangers without consent even if in a trivial/harmless way" or "that person made some off-color jokes or comments that while not in and of themselves entirely unforgivable could way too easily speak to a deeper more insidious world view," decided to politely distance myself and not pursue forging a relationship with them beyond casual acquaintance at best, and then was given confirmation later on that they were a genuinely physically dangerous person with a history of abuse or violence.

Like, the reality is there are a lot of predators in the nightlife. As much as it's this wonderful fantastic weird alternate reality where you can be your authentic self and explore these facets to your character you would not be able to in the daylight, play with fantasy and identity and have the freedom to play and express yourself in these wild ways, it's also a cover for genuinely dangerous people who are detached from all social dogma and feel that they can justify their behavior in these more lawless environments where stuff like kink and more "edgy" behavior is seen as more socially acceptable. For all of the absolutely amazing people I've met, literally pretty much all of my closest friends and relationships have formed from the underground / alternative nightlife scene, there are also pretty frequent allegations and scandals. It's the unfortunate reality, and while the very best events and promoters cultivate safe spaces to the best of their abilities, you can't keep 100% of them out.

I feel lucky in a weird way that I've developed what I think are pretty decent self preservation skills via being a weird fucking kid my entire life who has cultivated the vast vast vast majority of my relationships with other weird people (affectionate). I have so much love in my heart for genuine eccentrics and I think it is SO IMPORTANT to work actively to unlearn biases about what a Trustworthy or Untrustworthy person might look like or act like when they are not fucking hurting anyone, but I also don't give the time of day to people who make me uncomfortable. Basically I think learning what your own boundaries are, learning to communicate them, and learning to shut down those who invade them is just like, a genuinely necessary skill for being out in the nightlife. You need to know what you want and what you are and are not okay with. You need to learn pattern recognition—did this person stumble over their words once and say something that came out wrong, or does this person have a habit of making inappropriate remarks? Is this person exhibiting behavior that other people who have been dangerous or predatory have exhibited in the past? Can you make a reasonable link between that behavior, and the more predatory, overtly dangerous behavior?

[whosurisold]

Rigged elections old DementiaDonnie told us he was rigging the elections

Same as 2016 all over again,

the numbers don’t add up, in no world could a traitor, convicted FelonDon, rapist, sex predator, liar and cheater ever get more than 47% of his cult base in votes. If this election is NOT investigated shame on democrats for “giving” democracy away. I cannot accept this election as being fair and honest. I will never again honor this lawless constitution allowing criminals to steal elections again. I will never pledge allegiance to a lawless country or flag. I will never stand for a national anthem of a country led by lawless convicted criminals and thieves lining their own pockets with taxpayer money.