#busts didn't sell

[ruelpsen]

If I had to choose between cutting off my hand and redoing grad school apps, I'd seriously consider the hand. Be gentle with yourself, it's a fucking slog. What kind of program are you looking into?

Thank you for the reminder to be gentle. This shit has been stressful, and having for various reasons only about a month and a half to actually do focused work on applying has SUCKED. Not looking forward to potentially having to do this again in the future (it's complicated but I'll explain why in a sec), but I am SO looking forward to two weeks from now when these applications are in and it's out of my hands, as much as the waiting game itself sucks in its own way.

As for programs, I don't want to get too specific. I was a double major in undergrad, and I'm not exaggerating when I say I've literally never met anyone else with those two specific majors. (Ftr one is a STEM field and the other in the humanities.) I want to keep studying both in some capacity in the future, but to make a long story short I'm stuck in a position where I have to hold off on applying to the program in the humanities for now.

As annoyed as I am about the 'long story' part of that, I'm totally fine with prioritizing the program in STEM for now. Hell, in some ways that's a good thing given the limited amount of time I have to work on applications. But at the same time, I've greatly limited the number of schools I'm applying to so I can focus on creating well-tailored applications for their specific programs and faculty, and that means each potential rejection would leave me with a far smaller share of options. It's a bit of a risk, but damn it I'm trying my best to show how strong of a student I've been and that I would work well with their specific people. Hopefully things work out in the end.

I hope your own efforts have paid off too, wherever life has taken you.

[tittyinfinity]

welp my mom and I went to clear out the shed in the back yard and found out that my sister's boyfriend has been using it to store stolen lawnmowers. there were four

[sleepknoot]

My dad will show me dad rock and be like "What you know about this?" and get surprised when it's a song I already know.

Sir, I learned it from watching you!!!!!!!!

[itstimetodrew]

Got my tickets to see all 3 original Spider-Man movies in theaters next month!!!!

[kakusu-shipping]

Platonic f/o asks my beloved,,

Anyway, dogwood, cottonwood, and palm for Team Rocket!!

Thankyou very much the Squad!!!!! We love the (no so) Evil Crew!!

Dogwood - You've been quiet for a week or so- do they reach out to ask what's wrong, or do they let you have your space?

I can't imagine a situation where we're not physically right next to eachother that long, but if it did happen they'd reach out. They're a very clingy, prone to think the worst kind of crew.

Jessie's the least likely to reach out as she's pretty use to people just vanishing from her life, so she wouldn't be that worried. But Wobbeffet and Meowth worrying would eventually get her to cave and call me.

Cottonwood - If you took a vacation together, where would you go? What would you do?

Back to Alola! We'd visit Beware and Stufful, chill and play on the beach, plan to stay in a nice hotel just to have Beware INSIST we come home with her and rest in the cave... and honestly that is much better than any fancy hotel could be.

I'd also probably visit my brother Molayne while we're there, maybe finally introduce them to him.. but also probably not skdjkfsk They're shy and anxious around Gym Leader types.

Palm - If they did something you didn't agree with, would you call them out on it or let it slide? Would they call you out on something?

Jessie does whatever she wants and calling her out on it is a risk I'm not willing to take. Meowth maybe it depends on what he did, he's pretty reasonable. Wobbuffet has never done anything wrong in his life he is perfect.

Oh but they'd call me out for sure, especially Jessie. She eats Meowth's special dessert he was saving in the fridge? She did nothing wrong. I ate Meowth's special dessert he was saving in the fridge? I owe the entire hideout dessert now for such a heinous crime. Heaven forbid I actually do something to her she doesn't like...

I feel like following a crew of thieves around watching them attempt to steal some kid's Pikachu for years kind of lowers your standard for what's worth picking a fight over, but that's just me.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Red Lobster was killed by private equity, not Endless Shrimp

For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

A decade ago, a hedge fund had an improbable viral comedy hit: a 294-page slide deck explaining why Olive Garden was going out of business, blaming the failure on too many breadsticks and insufficiently salted pasta-water:

https://www.sec.gov/Archives/edgar/data/940944/000092189514002031/ex991dfan14a06297125_091114.pdf

Everyone loved this story. As David Dayen wrote for Salon, it let readers "mock that silly chain restaurant they remember from their childhoods in the suburbs" and laugh at "the silly hedge fund that took the time to write the world’s worst review":

https://www.salon.com/2014/09/17/the_real_olive_garden_scandal_why_greedy_hedge_funders_suddenly_care_so_much_about_breadsticks/

But – as Dayen wrote at the time, the hedge fund that produced that slide deck, Starboard Value, was not motivated by dissatisfaction with bread-sticks. They were "activist investors" (finspeak for "rapacious assholes") with a giant stake in Darden Restaurants, Olive Garden's parent company. They wanted Darden to liquidate all of Olive Garden's real-estate holdings and declare a one-off dividend that would net investors a billion dollars, while literally yanking the floor out from beneath Olive Garden, converting it from owner to tenant, subject to rent-shocks and other nasty surprises.

They wanted to asset-strip the company, in other words ("asset strip" is what they call it in hedge-fund land; the mafia calls it a "bust-out," famous to anyone who watched the twenty-third episode of The Sopranos):

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bust_Out

Starboard didn't have enough money to force the sale, but they had recently engineered the CEO's ouster. The giant slide-deck making fun of Olive Garden's food was just a PR campaign to help it sell the bust-out by creating a narrative that they were being activists* to save this badly managed disaster of a restaurant chain.

*assholes

Starboard was bent on eviscerating Darden like a couple of entrail-maddened dogs in an elk carcass:

https://web.archive.org/web/20051220005944/http://alumni.media.mit.edu/~solan/dogsinelk/

They had forced Darden to sell off another of its holdings, Red Lobster, to a hedge-fund called Golden Gate Capital. Golden Gate flogged all of Red Lobster's real estate holdings for $2.1 billion the same day, then pissed it all away on dividends to its shareholders, including Starboard. The new landlords, a Real Estate Investment Trust, proceeded to charge so much for rent on those buildings Red Lobster just flogged that the company's net earnings immediately dropped by half.

Dayen ends his piece with these prophetic words:

Olive Garden and Red Lobster may not be destinations for hipster Internet journalists, and they have seen revenue declines amid stagnant middle-class wages and increased competition. But they are still profitable businesses. Thousands of Americans work there. Why should they be bled dry by predatory investors in the name of “shareholder value”? What of the value of worker productivity instead of the financial engineers?

Flash forward a decade. Today, Dayen is editor-in-chief of The American Prospect, one of the best sources of news about private equity looting in the world. Writing for the Prospect, Luke Goldstein picks up Dayen's story, ten years on:

https://prospect.org/economy/2024-05-22-raiding-red-lobster/

It's not pretty. Ten years of being bled out on rents and flipped from one hedge fund to another has killed Red Lobster. It just shuttered 50 restaurants and declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy. Ten years hasn't changed much; the same kind of snark that was deployed at the news of Olive Garden's imminent demise is now being hurled at Red Lobster.

Instead of dunking on free bread-sticks, Red Lobster's grave-dancers are jeering at "Endless Shrimp," a promotional deal that works exactly how it sounds like it would work. Endless Shrimp cost the chain $11m.

Which raises a question: why did Red Lobster make this money-losing offer? Are they just good-hearted slobs? Can't they do math?

Or, you know, was it another hedge-fund, bust-out scam?

Here's a hint. The supplier who provided Red Lobster with all that shrimp is Thai Union. Thai Union also owns Red Lobster. They bought the chain from Golden Gate Capital, last seen in 2014, holding a flash-sale on all of Red Lobster's buildings, pocketing billions, and cutting Red Lobster's earnings in half.

Red Lobster rose to success – 700 restaurants nationwide at its peak – by combining no-frills dining with powerful buying power, which it used to force discounts from seafood suppliers. In response, the seafood industry consolidated through a wave of mergers, turning into a cozy cartel that could resist the buyer power of Red Lobster and other major customers.

This was facilitated by conservation efforts that limited the total volume of biomass that fishers were allowed to extract, and allocated quotas to existing companies and individual fishermen. The costs of complying with this "catch management" system were high, punishingly so for small independents, bearably so for large conglomerates.

Competition from overseas fisheries drove consolidation further, as countries in the global south were blocked from implementing their own conservation efforts. US fisheries merged further, seeking economies of scale that would let them compete, largely by shafting fishermen and other suppliers. Today's Alaskan crab fishery is dominated by a four-company cartel; in the Pacific Northwest, most fish goes through a single intermediary, Pacific Seafood.

These dominant actors entered into illegal collusive arrangements with one another to rig their markets and further immiserate their suppliers, who filed antitrust suits accusing the companies of operating a monopsony (a market with a powerful buyer, akin to a monopoly, which is a market with a powerful seller):

https://www.classaction.org/news/pacific-seafood-under-fire-for-allegedly-fixing-prices-paid-to-dungeness-crabbers-in-pacific-northwest

Golden Gate bought Red Lobster in the midst of these fish wars, promising to right its ship. As Goldstein points out, that's the same promise they made when they bought Payless shoes, just before they destroyed the company and flogged it off to Alden Capital, the hedge fund that bought and destroyed dozens of America's most beloved newspapers:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/16/sociopathic-monsters/#all-the-news-thats-fit-to-print

Under Golden Gate's management, Red Lobster saw its staffing levels slashed, so diners endured longer wait times to be seated and served. Then, in 2020, they sold the company to Thai Union, the company's largest supplier (a transaction Goldstein likens to a Walmart buyout of Procter and Gamble).

Thai Union continued to bleed Red Lobster, imposing more cuts and loading it up with more debts financed by yet another private equity giant, Fortress Investment Group. That brings us to today, with Thai Union having moved a gigantic amount of its own product through a failing, debt-loaded subsidiary, even as it lobbies for deregulation of American fisheries, which would let it and its lobbying partners drain American waters of the last of its depleted fish stocks.

Dayen's 2020 must-read book Monopolized describes the way that monopolies proliferate, using the US health care industry as a case-study:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/29/fractal-bullshit/#dayenu

After deregulation allowed the pharma sector to consolidate, it acquired pricing power of hospitals, who found themselves gouged to the edge of bankruptcy on drug prices. Hospitals then merged into regional monopolies, which allowed them to resist pharma pricing power – and gouge health insurance companies, who saw the price of routine care explode. So the insurance companies gobbled each other up, too, leaving most of us with two or fewer choices for health insurance – even as insurance prices skyrocketed, and our benefits shrank.

Today, Americans pay more for worse healthcare, which is delivered by health workers who get paid less and work under worse conditions. That's because, lacking a regulator to consolidate patients' interests, and strong unions to consolidate workers' interests, patients and workers are easy pickings for those consolidated links in the health supply-chain.

That's a pretty good model for understanding what's happened to Red Lobster: monopoly power and monopsony power begat more monopolies and monoposonies in the supply chain. Everything that hasn't consolidated is defenseless: diners, restaurant workers, fishermen, and the environment. We're all fucked.

Decent, no-frills family restaurant are good. Great, even. I'm not the world's greatest fan of chain restaurants, but I'm also comfortably middle-class and not struggling to afford to give my family a nice night out at a place with good food, friendly staff and reasonable prices. These places are easy pickings for looters because the people who patronize them have little power in our society – and because those of us with more power are easily tricked into sneering at these places' failures as a kind of comeuppance that's all that's due to tacky joints that serve the working class.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/23/spineless/#invertebrates

[obxsummer]

leave me again ii // rafe cameron

pairing: rafe cameron x routledge!reader (she/her), ex!jj maybank x reader

summary: you left the cut with nowhere to go. it’s rafe cameron that finds you and shows you the life you deserved to live

warnings: sorry jj lovers, that man does not get our girl back so sad jj and probably ooc rafe but i love it when that man is soft

navigation || part one

--

Six months.

It had been six months since any of the Pogues had seen you. No social media, no sight of you around town, no letters. Nothing.

The past six months left you to do a lot of reevaluations. You’d walked aimlessly after the group had left for the dive with nothing but your backpack and phone, no destination in mind. Until you found one.

“Lost or something?”

“Fuck off, Rafe,” Your response was instant as you continued to walk without sparing him a look. The car shifted into a different gear, you guessed by the noise, before Rafe was hopping out to approach you.

“Are you okay?” When you didn’t answer, he moved in closer and grabbed your shoulder before turning you to face him. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

You stared at him with the knowledge that you probably looked like a mess with the tear streaks across your cheeks. While Rafe had a lot of issues with your friends and brother, he usually stayed clear of you. Whether that was because you were close with Sarah, or what, you didn't know.

Twisting your fingers together, you dropped your gaze as tears started to build again. “You ever watch someone you love choose someone else over you, every single time?”

The question felt like a punch in the gut to Rafe. He had. His whole life he watched his dad choose Sarah. Watched his mom choose another family over him. Watched Wheezie choose another sibling over him.

“Get in, I’ve got somewhere to take you.”

Six months ago, you hopped in Rafe Cameron’s Range Rover and left The Cut behind. You didn’t question the decision, knowing you’d worry about everyone else before taking care of yourself, and that clearly didn’t work in the past. You felt horribly guilty about leaving John B with no indication whether you were okay or not, but you knew if one of them found out, JJ would be busting down the door to Rafe’s bedroom before you had a chance to say no. 

While you weren’t sure what the original intentions had been, Rafe was so different with you after bringing you back to his new house. One he’d bought after selling Tannyhill, free from the haunting of his father and the screams that echoed off the walls, he had turned it into a safe space for himself and anyone he invited in.

Things blossomed quickly and you realized the Rafe in front of you was not the bully, coke-head addict you’d once known. He was such a gentle person, and so much more attentive to you than JJ had ever been. Whether it was making you breakfast in bed before you left for the day, or prepping a warm (actually warm, like hot water you’d hadn’t had in forever) candle lit bath, or popping an expensive bottle of wine just for you to taste, he was there in ways nobody had been. You were his girl, his only girl, and you never once had to question that.

Rafe had even invited you to sit in on his investment meetings and he was slowly pulling your name into his business so you’d have a professional background to grow into. You were steadily becoming an educated little couple in his home, something he was so proud and grateful for. He had someone to lean on for advice and give him fresh eyes on new projects with no judgment or fear of anger. The two of you soaked up your bubble of peace for as long as you could before shit hit the fan. 

Little did you know, on the other side of the island with your brother, there had been absolutely no peace. John B and JJ barely spoke, everything ending in an argument when they did. Pope was sick of playing mediator, and Kie had more of less shut down out of guilt. Sarah was still searching for you, but you’d gone ghost. Cleo was treading lightly with the knowledge that everything would explode eventually. 

So, they did what they could, and dove into treasure hunting. When JJ pulled the amulet out of his pocket in the back of the Twinkie, John B’s emotions were mixed. Sure, he was stoked that he’d found the object the group was looking for, but he wished you were here. It was your birthday, and John B was inches away from losing his shit without you.

“Dude, are you okay?” Pope asked as the group stood in the office area of the house, trying to find more information on the amulet’s inscription.

John B tossed the heavy object on the desk in frustration. “No, I’m not okay! We can find decades old treasure like it’s the easiest thing ever, but we can’t find jack shit about my sister? That’s bullshit, Pope. And you know it.”

Pope knew things would be sensitive today. Even JJ woke up grouchy, which John B told him was deserved since he caused your absence in the first place. The lack of your presence weighed heavy on the group, so Pope suggested going to visit one of your favorite beach spots. 

Little did he know what he was getting himself into.

--

“Rafe!” The house was filled with your laughter as Rafe twirled you in the kitchen lighting, your favorite song playing from the interactive speaker on the counter. The two of you had spent the day together, visiting the country club for lunch before Rafe took you shopping for something to wear tonight.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Lemme love on you, it’s your birthday” He mumbled as he pressed soft kisses into your neck, hands squeezing your hips teasingly. The soft fabric of the dress he’d picked out covered your frame, the color matching your skin perfectly. 

You hummed in content, fingers holding his biceps tightly as if your knees would give out any second. “You loved on me a lot this morning.”

“Can’t help it.” Rafe’s thumb traced your bottom lip before he kissed you softly. “You make it so easy.”

The two of you got lost in each other for a few more moments, soaking up the quiet as the orange sunset started casting through the windows. Today had been the best day you’d had in so long and you were so grateful of Rafe for giving you so much patience and love.

It had taken time for you to adjust to this kind of life. You walked in here with three outfits to your name, a busted cell phone, and a stuffed animal John B won you at the town festival as kids. And Rafe embraced every bit of it, let you keep your Pogue pieces while building you a life around it that was filled with items you needed but would never ask for, all while loving you so gently.

You climbed out of his car (technically the one he’d bought you but you refused to acknowledge that), and stepped down into the soft sand below. This was your spot, the spot you came to whenever you needed to clear your head or take a moment alone. You’d shared it with Rafe shortly after everything changed, and now, it was a shared spot that you both considered special.

Rafe moved around the car to grab your hand and guide you toward the area he had organized for the two of you. A small white table had been set up with your favorite snacks and two glasses of wine, surrounded by the fluffiest blanket and pillows you’d seen. 

“Did you do this?” You squeezed his hand tighter, tears in your eyes at how sweet and thoughtful the gesture was. Your jaw dropped as the two of you walked closer; everything was thought out down to the tiny forks you loved so much being there to pick up the appetizers. 

“Course I did, baby.” Rafe kissed your temple softly and grabbed one of the glasses to hand to you before taking hold of his own. You clinked your glass against his, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him deeply in appreciation.

And then everything went to shit.

“What the fuck?”

Rafe’s hand tightened against your lower back, both of you looking over to see the handful of figures standing a few feet away. Your heart went to your throat went you made eye contact with your brother, whose hand was wrapped in Sarah’s. JJ stood behind him along with Kiara, Pope, and Cleo, all of them looking at you expectantly.

“Shit,” You whispered and took a step back from Rafe, eyes meeting his in dread. His expression had hardened at the sight of JJ, all the anger rushing back when he thought about how you’d been treated in the relationship, how unfair everything had been. You clocked the frustration in his gaze and placed your fingers on his cheek to redirect his focus back to you. “Don’t. I’ll handle it.”

Rafe’s jaw ticked but he didn’t argue as you slipped your wine glass back into his hand and left his side to approach the group standing in front of you. You weren’t even worried about JJ or Kie, you were worried about John B more than anything.

“Hi,” The greeting was so quiet you almost didn’t hear yourself. How do you talk to people you disappeared on six months ago?

John B’s only response was to pull you into the tightest hug he had ever given. You stumbled with the force of his body colliding with you before regaining your balance and returning the embrace. 

“You’re okay,” He repeated the words to himself as if convincing his mind that they were true before stepping back and holding your cheeks in his hands. The smile on his face was huge, and you were so so confused. “Holy shit.”

“Hi,” You laughed quietly, placing your hands on top of his. “I’m so sorry.”

John B shook his head, his thumb brushing the random tear from your cheek. “Don’t be sorry. I told you to take a break, yeah? And you did.”

You glanced back to where Rafe was surprisingly conversing with Sarah with no anger in sight. The pit in your stomach slowly disappeared as you took them in and turned your attention back to John B. “I um… there’s a lot to catch you up on, and I want to tell you. I wanna tell you all of it, JB, but-”

“And I wanna hear it,” He reassured softly. “But someone put a lot of effort into your night and I don’t wanna steal any of it.”

You were so goddamn grateful for your brother. Pulling John B into another hug, you spared the look over his shoulder to see Kiara stomping away from the beach. You tried to keep a smirk off your face but it definitely made its way through. 

Stepping back from John B, you shared hugs with Cleo and Pope, promising that you would see them soon before you were face to face with the reason you made it here in the first place. JJ looked rough. His hair was chaotic, arms thinner than you remembered, and he just looked tired.

“I don’t want your apology,” You spoke as he opened his mouth. “And it looks like you have a girlfriend to go find anyway.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” JJ replied quickly as he stared at you. “Not anymore.”

You pulled your lips in and shrugged. “Okay. I’ll see you around, JJ.”

He reached a hand out toward you when you moved to walk away. You paused just out of his reach and looked back. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

You nodded. “I know. I should be thanking you actually, because if you had said it back to me that day, I wouldn’t have found something so much better.”

And with that, you walked away from JJ and the empty promises he had always given, walked away straight into the arms of someone who would give you the world and more, if you just so much as asked.

--

navigation 

[oncasette]

frat!lads

sylus, zayne, rafayel, xavier, & caleb x fem!reader

the love and deepspace men as frat guys in a college!au at linkon U + how you met them

content: fr*ternity boys, alcohol consumption, all apart of the same frat (lambda delta sigma—LDS), smoking/vaping for some of the guys. thank you to @nashusglasses for yapping about the boys with me 😘

SYLUS QIN, majoring in business, minoring in international communications

frat!sylus doesn't leave his room during parties after you start dating, whether you're up there with him or not. He'll attend brotherhood events, but it's a hard sell to get him to go to swaps, date parties, or weekend functions unless you're the one asking him to go.

frat!sylus definitely smokes when he's drunk. He's not a regular smoker, and he wouldn't be one to vape or zyn either, but he'll keep a pack of cigs in his back pocket at a function.

frat!sylus becomes pledge master the year that luke and kieran go through recruitment, and definitely plays favorites. He'll let the twins go to your apartment to sleep during hell week, he's more lenient on them when there's group pledge tasks, and he ends up being their big brother when big/little takes place. They start up calling you mom before the week's up.

frat!sylus sleeps through most of his classes. Or, most of the day, really. It's a wonder he was passing with his abysmal attendance, but you couldn't say you weren't proud of him when you saw that he made the Dean's list every semester.

frat!sylus still teases you for ignoring him for a while after you two met.

You met Sylus at one of his frat's parties. You were a little too tipsy to foster intelligent thoughts and the music was far too loud to hold any genuine conversation. The most you could get out to your friends over the thumping bass was your desire to get another drink from the kitchen and to take a trip to the bathroom on your way there. The line was, unsurprisingly, far too long and bleeding out into the hallway, leaving you to grumble and slouch against the wall as you waited your turn.

Sylus practically came out of nowhere, leaning up against the wall beside you and offering to take the empty solo cup from your hand.

"You alright, there?" he asks. He's seen you around a couple of times. In passing, mostly, around campus or at his frat's events, but this was the first time he'd gotten the chance to speak to you.

"Yeah, just, waiting on the bathroom," you huff, and Sylus has to bite down on the laugh that's creeping up his throat. You were cute, dangerously so, even hazy eyed and little wobbly.

"I'd be happy to let you use mine if you want to skip the line," he says. The look you shoot his way has him raising his hands up in defense, waving away all notions of foul play with your crushed cup still in his grasp. "I'll stand outside my room and keep guard."

You nod, thinking better of it as you lean into his guiding hand and allow him to lead you upstairs.

You nearly forget about him until about a month later when LDS throws a darty that you attend, Sylus immediately spotting you in the crowd and managing to get the phone number he'd sorely missed the last time you'd spoken.

ZAYNE LI, majoring in biology, minoring in chemistry, pre-med track

frat!zayne is the reason LDS doesn't get put on academic probation most semesters. His GPA never falls from it's pristine 4.0, even with the fraternity's functions and all the time he spends with you. It's how he got stuck with the director of academics position.

frat!zayne refused to do the sock on the door policy because he felt like it was crude. He didn't have a roommate in the house like he had in the dorm, so he didn't know why anyone needed to know when he was having private moments with you. That was until one of the brothers busted the door through the lock at eleven o'clock because they wanted to borrow his britta filter. Then he started using the sock, despite how red his ears would flush the next day when he left for class and had to pass the other boys living on his hall.

frat!zayne brings you all the trinkets he can find from people tabling in the quad. You've gotten plenty of stickers, candy grams, roses, and cookies. You even got a rubber duck once.

frat!zayne won't attend a swap unless it's with your sorority. When he'd been a pledge, he'd been forced to attend every event and stick around until the lights came on at the bar, but now that he's with you, he'll only go to the events you're attending or can tag along with him to.

frat!zayne gets asked all the time by your sorority sisters when he's going to propose. After all, the first time he'd locked eyes with you had been at a tacky wedding themed swap.

Your friends had been nudging you all night to go and talk to him. Your eyes had barely left him, looking at the cute guy at the corner of the bar in the powder blue suit over your friends' shoulders.

"Go! Please! You're killing me with this eye tag thing," Tara squeals as she shoves you towards the guy. Your heels are planted into the sticky flooring, but she's doing a damned good job of inching you closer to him. Before she had the chance to topple you over completely, you relented.

"Fine, fine, I'm going! But I'm not promising anything," you huff. Your body warms under his gaze as you approach. He sees nervous as he glances around the bar, anxiously checking to see if there's anyone around him that you'd be coming up to, now, though he can no longer deny it when you stop right in front of him.

"Hi," he says, cheeks flushed and ears bitten pink and you just about fall out right there. How cute could he get?

RAFAYEL QI, majoring in fine arts, minoring in marine science

frat!rafayel is the heart of most of the parties LDS throws. He's usually on aux unless they've hired a DJ or a live band, and he takes his job seriously. He never misses a function, but he has an arm thrown over your shoulder more often than not.

frat!rafayel has a recipe for jungle juice that gets put out at darties. He won't tell anyone else how to make it and claims it's made with "lots of love".

frat!rafayel carries a miami mint vape around with him, but he rarely hits it. Unless he's drinking, then it doesn't leave his hand.

frat!rafayel uses "anything but a cup" night to get you to wear one of those beer hats people wear to baseball games so he can spend the rest of the night draped over your back—like he'd be anywhere else, anyway, this just gives him a viable excuse—and drinking out of your hat.

frat!rafayel begs you to take another art elective with him. He claims they're all boring without you, and that you give him the inspiration he needs when he's locked in the art department's concrete walls.

You met Rafayel in an intro art course your sophomore year. It was about halfway through the semester when you accidentally dumped your paint water down the front of his shirt on the way to the sink. Class had already ended, meaning Rafayel had taken off his apron and had nearly finished cleaning up when you stumbled over.

He didn't mind, really, despite the whines and complaints on his end. He was all easy smiles and comforting words was he realized how bad you felt for your little mishap, peeling off his outer layer like it wasn't a big deal and leaving your mouth to water over his newly exposed biceps.

"Look, would it make you feel better if I let you make it up to me?" he asks. He ties the damp shirt around the arm strap of his backpack as he asks.

You nod, sputting out a helpless little yes.

"Alright," he smirks, just a bit at the corner of his lips. "How about you let me take you out for lunch, then?"

"Wha- when?" you ask. You're more than taken aback at his request, having expected for him to make you buy him a new shirt or a new set of paints.

"Now, if that works for you," he says. Now works great for you.

XAVIER SHEN, majoring in astrophysics

frat!xavier doesn't really talk to anyone at any of the functions unless you're there. He'll still attend, but more often than not, he's secluded off in the corner scrolling on his phone or watching whatever the bar's put on the TV.

frat!xavier smuggled a second twin XL into his room to make a mega bed. No one knows where he found it or how he got it in without any help. It's the comfiest thing either of you have ever laid on, and it takes about seven alarms and twenty-five kisses to coax him out of it in the morning for class

frat!xavier always has you on his lap when you're at the house for a game. Whenever any of your school's sports teams plays an away game, the brothers will line up four or five couches in the party room and move the biggest TV—sylus'—in, and Xavier takes the opportunity to keep you locked in his grasp for the next couple of hours.

frat!xavier is a favorite for so many of the girls that go to LDS. They think he's just the sweetest guy ever, but he barely even talks to most of them. He'll nod politely for a couple minutes before wandering off. He gets ribbed pretty bad for it later.

frat!xavier uses you as his reminder to study. You always drag him to the library with you on Sundays, and despite his hangovers, he uses the time to get ahead on his class work for next week.

You met Xavier in the library your freshman year. He'd holed himself up in the corner of the fourth floor, promptly falling asleep face first on his textbook. When he'd gotten there, there had been plenty of tables open, but as the day had gone on, more and more people had filed in to find a quiet place to study for finals. When you got there, all of the tables and chairs were full other than a single one at his table.

You work up the courage to tap him on the shoulder after awkwardly going back and forth about it behind him for ten minutes.

"Excuse me?" you ask softly, ducking your head down so as to not disturb the other people near you. He doesn't respond. You tap him gently again. That seems to snag his attention.

"Hm?" His eyes struggle to open, and you feel something flutter in your chest as you watch him wipe the corner of his mouth and sit up.

"Do you mind if I sit with you? The rest of the floor is full," you say softly as you gesture to the free chair beside him. He shakes his head softly and kicks the chair out a bit for you to sit beside him.

Xavier doesn't end up leaving the library until you do. Three and a half hours later.

CALEB XI, majoring in aerospace studies

frat!caleb catches shit from some of his brothers for hanging onto his high school girlfriend. He doesn't care, he'd drop them in a second if it meant keeping you. He never lets any of them rib you, or make any comments that toe the line of mean more than funny. You're his priority, and his brothers know that.

frat!caleb is the president of LDS and is always either sending out massive group messages to the frat or is on the phone trying to handle something. It's like he's trying to manage 87 different tasks at once, on top of his school work, but he handles it well.

frat!caleb only drinks beer and will make a sword out of the empty cans to fight his brothers with if he's drunk enough. but the bar really isn't even that low, get like three in him and he's ready to joust.

frat!caleb has a sex playlist that he thinks is so good until you tell him how goofy you think it is while you're drunk. It takes three weeks of silent nights, forgetting just how quiet you have to be with the music off so his brothers won't hear you, before you're begging him to put it back on. With alterations, of course. There's nothing sexy about doses and mimosas.

frat!caleb only lives in house because he's on exec. If he had it his way, the two of you would already be living in a cute little townhouse off campus, but with the rules in place, you practically live in house, too.

When you both had announced your college decisions, everyone had accused you of following your boyfriend off to school. They'd done anything and everything to try and talk you out of it, but you'd stood your ground. If anything, Caleb had been the one to follow you off to school, and you weren't going to be the one to stop him.

Caleb had bitched and moaned the whole month leading up to move in because they wouldn't let the two of you dorm together, but seeing as you were living on the same hall in the only contemporary dorm on campus, it really wouldn't have made much a difference.

You were attached at the hip, for better or worse, all throughout grade school. He doesn't see why college should be any different.

[ariestrxsh]

dealer!chris x copsdaughter!reader

🍒 content warning: smut, innocence corruption, oral (f!receiving), praise, daddy kink, semi-public, risky, enemies to lovers

🍒 summary: you start rebelling against your cop dad, and who better to be your partner in crime than chris sturniolo, the local drug dealer your dad busted last year and told you to stay away from

dividers by (top) @/dollywons (bottom) @/anitalenia

Cherry Flavoured

"You look a little out of place here," a familiar voice from behind me broke through the sound of the loud music and startled me, causing me to nearly drop my red solo cup. I whipped around to see who it was. Chris Sturniolo. My dad had warned me about him. He'd busted Chris for selling weed last year, but of course, he didn't learn his lesson and was still just as much of a scumbag as ever.

"What do you want, Chris?" I rolled my eyes after subtly looking him up and down. He looked really fucking good. He was in a black tanktop, a grey flannel, grey sweatpants, and a backward black hat. He held a blunt loosely between his lips as he smiled at me. "What I'd really like is to get out of here and smoke this with you," he said, taking the unlit blunt out of his mouth and holding it out to me.

"You know my dad would kill me if I smoked weed, but he'd kill me twice if I smoked weed with you," I scoffed. "He doesn't have to find out, sweetheart. Plus, he'd be pissed that you were at this party to begin with. Why stop pissing him off now?" Chris responded, smirking at me.

I was going through a bit of a rebellious phase. Growing up with a cop father, there were a lot of things I couldn't participate in as a high school student without being worried he'd play detective and find out or something. But I was finally starting to branch out and test the water a little bit when it came to boys and drinking. After all, I was 19 with nearly no experience. Why not weed, too?

"I've never smoked before," I told him. "I know. I'd love to be the one to pop your cherry," Chris devilishly grinned at me. I rolled my eyes at him and smoothed out the wrinkles in my dress. "Listen, I know you're trying to rebel against your dad. This is your first party. This is probably your first alcoholic drink," Chris said, pointing to the cup in my hand, and he was right, "and I'd love to help you rebel a little bit."

"What's in it for you?" I glared at him. "Revenge on your dad for busting me last year. Corrupting his little girl would be my pleasure," Chris leaned in and whispered to me. His lips brushed against my ear lobe, sending shivers down my spine.

I thought about it for a second. I'd always hated Chris, and I was still weary of him, because my dad had warned me about him, and had pretty much forbade me from ever making friends with him, even though he wasn't my type of people. But I was a little morbidly curious about him. "Fine," I agreed, and he extended his hand out to me, and I took it.

He led me through the crowd and out the back door, our shoes crumpling the dead leaves beaneath us. There was a spot on the side of the house that was tucked away behind a tree that Chris brought me to. We both leaned up against the house, looked up at the starry night sky, and were glad to get away from all the noise and people.

The autumn breeze kicked up as Chris attempted to spark up the blunt. "Here. Help me? Hold your hands out like this," Chris showed me, and I made a little cave with my palms to shield the lighter from the wind. The fire from the lighter was warm, especially compared to the cool outside air.

He took a few hits and then passed it to me. "Now, just take one hit. This is your first time, so you don't wanna overdo it," he said in a low raspy voice, "and make sure that when you inhale, you inhale into your lungs, not just into your mouth before blowing it out."

I held the blunt up to my lips, and as I sucked, the cherry on the end made a faint crackling sound. The smoke felt warm and thick in my lungs. "Hold it, hold it. Okay, now you can exhale. Good girl," Chris whispered, and as I blew out the smoke, I coughed hard, and I wasn't sure if it was from the smoke or if it was from when I gasped when Chris called me that.

"Just sit tight for like ten minutes, and if you don't feel anything, I'll let you have another hit, okay?" Chris said, rubbing my cheek. "Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked him, giving him a skeptical look. "Because I was once in your shoes, experimenting with drugs for the first time, and there was no one looking out for me, but I wish there were," he answered, taking another puff and blowing it in the opposite direction as I was standing. "I have a question for you now," he stated, glancing at me with his beautiful, bloodshot blue eyes, "why do you dislike me?"

"Chris, you're a drug dealer. My dad has warned me about you. You're a dangerous man," I told him, looking down at my shoes. "I promise I'm not dangerous. You don't know me, and your pig dad doesn't know me. Yeah, so I sell weed. That's one very small part of who I am," Chris replied, with a genuine hurt in his voice.

I could relate to his dismay in being judged by someone who doesn't even really know you. After all, having a dad who was a cop and being the odd one out when it came to experience with boys and drugs came with a lot of judgment as well.

"I'm sorry. I guess I don't know you," I responded in a shaky voice. "That's alright. After all, judgments aren't all bad. It's your judgment that tells you not to walk into a lion's den," Chris responded, blowing a cloud of smoke above him, and I watched it dissipate into the night sky.

"I think I'm starting to feel it," I whispered, fixating on the way the smoke danced through the atmosphere with Chris' every exhale. I felt less uptight and less serious. "Does it feel good?" Chris smirked. "Yeah," I said, my eyelids growing heavy while I smiled over at him like an idiot.

"You look so pretty when you're high," Chris whispered, holding the lit tobacco leaf back up to his lips. "God, I wish I were that blunt," I whispered back, and Chris' eyes widened as he smiled in disbelief. "Oh my god, did I just say that out loud?" I asked, covering my mouth with my hand.

"Yeah, is that how you really feel?" Chris asked, winking at me. I blushed. "I'm sorry. I'm high. I was thinking, and I didn't mean to say that out loud. Are weed and alcohol supposed to make you horny?" I asked, glancing down into my nearly empty solo cup.

"It can have that effect sometimes," Chris teased me, offering me the blunt one more time. I accepted it, inhaling just like Chris told me and blowing the smoke out, but this time, because the blunt was so small, it slightly burnt my fingers and lips when I took a drag. I still coughed, but Chris rubbed my back.

"Did you mean that earlier? About wishing you were the blunt?" Chris poked fun at me while he took a last puff and put out the cherry on the bottom of his shoe. I innocently bit my lip and ignored his question.

Chris leaned in and kissed me. His lips were smooth and soft, and he tasted of weed and cherry chapstick. His tongue begged for entrance into my mouth, and I allowed it. His kiss was gentle but powerful, and his hands immediately started wandering my body. I'd made out with boys before and even been touched by them before, but the way Chris' fingers danced across my neckline and down to my waist made me think we might go further than I ever had before.

Chris' hand traveled down to my thighs, and he pushed up the hem of my dress and started rubbing the front of my panties. "Oh my, look at you getting all wet. Is that because of me?" He asked, looking into my eyes. "Mhmmm," I moaned while he held my neck with one hand and slid his other down the front of my underwear. I gasped as he made direct contact with my clit and started gently toying with it.

"Has anyone ever kissed you here before?" He asked while he rubbed it. I looked up at him and shook my head, a little embarrassed. "Well, then, you're gonna love this," Chris whispered to me before he descended to his knees in front of me. He helped me out of my panties, one leg at a time, and he looked up into my eyes while he brought his mouth closer to my pussy.

As soon as he started twirling his tongue over my sensitive nerves in small, concentrated circles, moans started streaming from my lips. "Do you like it when I go slow like this?" He asked, moving his tongue in long, slow licks over it. "Or do you like this better?" He asked, while he sped up the pace and started fiddling my clit with his tongue faster than I thought anyone could ever move their tongue before. My knees grew weak, and I could barely think.

"Just like that," I whimpered while I entangled my fingers with his locks of hair. "Yes, daddy," I squealed. Why did I just call him that? I was so embarrassed, but he didn't stop or shame me. Instead, he started moaning against me, sending vibrations through my body. Maybe he liked that I had called him that.

"Oh, daddy, you lick me so good," I quietly cried out. "Mmmm, good girl. Cum on daddy's tongue, princess," Chris teased me as I swiveled my hips in circles against his gorgeous mouth. I couldn't take it anymore. Chris' words, his tongue, his eyes piercing my soul, the built up sexual repression, it all sent me over the edge.

I could barely stand, but thanks to the wall behind me and the way Chris was holding me up, I was able to let my body fall limp and relax into my orgasm. What a sweet release. The first orgasm that anybody had ever given me besides myself. And it was better too. Chris stood up after he lapped up my mess and leaned beside me back up against the wall, grinning at me.

"I wonder what your daddy would think if he knew you were drinking and smoking with me, calling me daddy while I eat your pussy."

[sourcherrybites]

Legally Binding Affairs

Character: Jason Todd x DA! Reader

Disclaimers: My knowledge of the US legal system is based on Law and Order, Criminal Minds and Legal Eagle. I wrote more words than I usually do so the end is kinda sloppy, my apologies babes

Word count: 1.181

➜ Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2

Masterlist

Jason hates you; he despises your very existence because you make his job miserable and eight times more complicated than it should be. Ever since you got to Gotham, you have caused anything but trouble for him, his family, his business AND his crime-fighting activities.

It all started when that dumb fuck of New Jersey's governor announced that to fight the overwhelming crime rate in Gotham they would appoint a brand new DA, the starlight, the ace, the beloved child of the country's justice system; you. A prodigy since law school, with a 98% conviction rate, not reaching 100% because not even you could fight the unfairness when prosecuting rich folks or false allegations.

There you were, standing next to the Governor on TV with a serene look on your kind features, and a body language that said nothing could disturb your peace, a suit tailored to your shape, clean and ironed until perfection, fixed and organised hair and a straight pose. You. Were. Perfection. And maybe that's why they sent you off to Gotham —you were just too good. (suspiciously good)

You made it your goal to turn the Gotham court system into your personal renovation project, From the very moment you stepped out of that courthouse, determination etched on your face, the whole City watched as you won case after case. Your conviction remained unshaken, even in the pervasive corruption that seemed woven into the very fabric of the city. Nothing could stop you —not even the countless attempts to end you. In fact, you managed to reduce Gotham's crime rate by a staggering 1% in just two months—an achievement that was basically historical. (and again, suspicious)

You were stubborn and couldn't mind your own business, and Jason didn't really care; at the end of the day, you became a small spark of hope for Gothamites — that until you threw one of his guys behind bars, then it became personal.

Were you just that stupid that you couldn't grasp the danger you put yourself into by going after high-profile criminals? He was sure that every Rouge in Gotham had a bounty on your head, and you didn't care! You just didn't care! Like you were some sort of masochist, suicidal maniac! But he would make you care, on God, he would; one, because no one wanted the new favourite child of the city becoming another Harvey Dent, and two, he was just absolutely tired of you messing up his stuff.

Drug operations were busted, fights for keeping territories were more common, and the attempts to get the most clients by dealers became more desperate, selling harder and harsher drugs. You were just messing it all up! You just had to stop before you got everyone killed.

"Pretty nice home you got here. The federal government pays well, it seems." His modulated voice echoed through the emptiness of your apartment, it wasn't expensive, you weren't one of the luxurious lifestyles because you just couldn't afford it, but it was neat and well taken care of, the most expensive thing you had was your Computer on your desk, a long, caramel coloured structure next to the window looking at the city.

"Should I add trespassing to your file, Mr. Red Hood?" You asked calmly, in the same calm voice you used when talking to the defence attorneys. He was sitting on your couch, manspreading on your couch, one hand on the back of it to keep up the relaxed posture and the other on the gun that sat comfortably against his left thigh. "Funny little one." He let out a smug chuckle, an edge of annoyance in his voice that couldn't be hidden by the modulator. He stood up, the thud of his boots loud as he approached slowly, probably trying to make you feel smaller, which it did because he was the size of a double refrigerator, but you were, by far, more worried about the files hidden under your couch, in the special plastic pocket in which it usually is the information about the furnishing, him finding that made you nervous.

"Should I offer you a glass of water, sir?" You asked with faked courtesy, barely holding back the subtle shake of your voice, to which he chuckled again. "Thank you, doll, but I have other things to talk with you." He said, clenching and unclenching his fists.

He took another few steps, "You're tense. Are you scared?" Yes, absolutely terrified, about to pee in your expensive suit pants that you wore only once every millennium. You wanted to jump out the window before spending half a second longer with that beast. "Somethin' to hide?" He inquired again. You shook your head, keeping your eyes locked into the whites of his mask. And then you looked back at the couch, a little too low.

Shit.

Both of you pounced at the same time, struggling for two different reasons, you were doing your best to keep him from reaching the files and him barely struggling to keep you away with only one arm. You kicked, pulled, pushed, and clawed at him to keep him from flipping the couch. Meanwhile, he barely did some force to keep you away with the arm which was holding the gun.

He reached one of the files from under the couch, and you yanked his hand away, twisting his elbow at a painful angle and making all the pages fall and scatter around the floor. "You little sh-" He wanted to growl, looking over the mess on the floor until his eyes met the deep blue ones of a picture. Bruce's picture. He violently pushed you away, making you hit the floor with a thump and kicking the air out of you whilst he read the notes, and every page he read made him panic more. Somehow you had noticed things no one else picked on, his pattern of picking up children just at the same time as a new robin hit the streets, analysis on his posture, his voice, coincidences and discrepancies you had found. You had figured The Batman out.

He grabbed another file, the one labelled Grayson, the same story. Drake. Damian. Gordon. Brown. Sionis. Todd. There was no point in keeping the helmet on now so he just took it off and threw it somewhere else in your living room as he flipped on his file. You knew who he was, you knew who his family were and for the first time since he knew about you, he panicked.

"How did you get this....?" He muttered, barely above a whisper, his shaky hand pointing the gun at your face. "Did you show this to anyone else?" His grip on the barrel tightened, his index pressing against the trigger as he snarled. You coughed, placing a hand on your chest. "Lower your gun... and I tell you..." you managed to gasp, sitting up against the wall. "Let's just... talk... Mr. Todd... and I promise I'll explain everything." And that was it, He just needed to hear you out.

But would he?

©sourcherrybites 2025

[dresshistorynerd]

Sewing a turn of the 15th century French kirtle in doll scale

Another day, another historical doll outfit! This time it's Late Medieval. This was a popular style from about 1380-1420 France and Alpine area, but I specifically based this dress on French illuminations from the early 15th century, which mostly effects the details, like headwear. As always I hand stitched everything and stuck to historical construction methods as much as I could.

Chemise

I made a very simple chemise. The construction is based on what we know from extant finds, made out of simple rectangles and triangles, like earlier unlaced kirtles. Based on illustrations, chemise was fairly slim but unfitted enough it didn't need closures. I made it from linen, because it's not very gathered and won't bulk up too much, so I don't need to use my very fine cotton voile.

Cote

Cote is just the French word for kirtle, so appropriate here. This is the supportive layer cote, which was sort of an undergarment, but was considered fully dressed, if informal on it's own. The sleeves on this underlayer were always long and either fully fitted or gathered at the wrist. Some fitted sleeve styles had a flare at the wrist which covered the hand. The very fitted look was achieved with buttons. The silhouette was smooth and fitted, the waistline was slightly above the natural waist, though that was not as pronounced in France as in Northern Italy. Abdomen was emphasized, round lower stomach was the body ideal. The cut of the dress left plenty of room there. To fill that room I folded the chemise under the abdomen as a sort of padding. This was common to do with any kind of skirts, primarily to raise the hem when working, but why not for this purpose also? The necklines were fairly low and very wide.

I used cotton because I didn't have suitable thin enough wool that wouldn't have created too much bulk on this scale, but the cote should have been made from. The cotton is tightly woven and sells the look of a woven wool in this scale well enough for me. I didn't finish seems or line it to avoid bulk. I did give the lacing a cording to reinforce it and avoid wrinkling. The cotton was originally white, but I dyed it with iron oxide, basically rust, which at least is very much historical.

Hose

I made the hose from cotton as well for the same reasons as I did the cote. Long pointed style became fashionable around this time, as well as sewing leather soles in the bottoms of the hose instead of using shoes. Though often pattens (wooden flipflops basically) could be used when walking outside to protect the leather soles.

Cornettes or horned hair

I tied the hair with a tape on cornettes, where the volume of hair was tied on the temples to create a bit of horned appearance, especially when combined with the horned headwear. The sort of fillet which became more of a forehead loop seemed to have been tied into the hair, which I did.

Cotehardie

Cotehardie meant literally "bold cote", and in France that was what the formal outer cote was called. It was basically the same as cote, but made from more expensive materials and often had large hanging sleeves. I went with widening triangular sleeves, since they were perhaps the most popular sleeves at the time. I used fine fulled wool (verka) I had enough scraps left from. White fur was popular lining material, but obviously I can't use fur in this scale, I wish I had some light white velvet, it would have been pretty good, but I didn't. I lined the skirt and the sleeves with white cotton to imitate the look without adding too much body or extra bulk. I decorated the neckline with a simple golden trim. I thought about adding a bit of golden embroidery around it too, like seemed to have been popular, but my local crafts store had run out of golden thread so I decided to go with this only.

Accessories

Unlike the belt used with houppelande, which was below bust, the belt used with the kirtle or cotehardie, was very low, under the abdomen to emphasize it. I went for a silk belt look, which I'm imagining is embroidered/woven with golden thread, since embroidery that small would have been too painful. I had an old broken necklace, which I could use for the metallic parts.

With the pouch I went for the tasseled drawstring look, with simple embroidery manageable in this scale. I used linen for it.

Headwear

I made her a chaperon, which likely was where the escoffion got it's beginning, escoffion being the round tube-like headwear worn on top of the head seen in several primary source images above. Early form of escoffion was becoming very popular at the time, though chaperon's were still seen on women too. Chaperon, as seen below both on the left-most woman and the man in the middle was actually just the hood rolled into a circle.

Because the horned look was popular, the escoffion and chaperon were often worn over the wired horned veil, so I first made that. I made it from cotton to make it as light as possible. It was just a square I hemmed. I just used some wire to poke out the horns from her hair and pinned the veil close from the back and onto her hair from the top.

Then I made the open hood. It was just the regular hood which had become very popular during the last century and which had ever longer narrow tip, but it was pinned and worn open, probably because of the hair style and to again create the horned look. I made if from the same cotton I made the hose, even though it too should be from wool. But it was already too bulky as it was.

And finally I could make the chaperon. Here's first chaperon without wire or veil under it and then with those. The effect isn't as pronounced as I would have hoped because the hood is too bulky, but there is an effect which is nice.

[homuraakemis]

Honestly, every single one of Jinx's accusations against Vi is so hypocritical:

1) "I thought, maybe you could love me like you used to, even though I'm different".

She accuses Vi of not loving/accepting her as she is. This is already an absurd expectation, because first, Vi has no obligation to "accept her as she is" when she is doing all the horrible things that she does, and second, Vi actually does love her despite all her mistakes, it's Jinx herself who refuses Vi's offer to leave and start anew.

But it's also a completely hypocritical accusation: she wants Vi to accept her as she is, but she doesn't accept Vi as she is. Vi is a person who is not willing to murder innocents and also someone who cares about Caitlyn. But Jinx doesn't accept that about her sister. She wants Vi to change for her, she wants Vi to become a murderer and kill Caitlyn to prove her love for her, and when Vi refuses, she rejects Vi. So Jinx herself doesn't accept Vi as she is.

2) "Poisoning our air"

This is incredibly hypocritical coming from a person who spent years helping to poison the people of Zaun with shimmer, a drug that devastated Zaun. Vi and Caitlyn's use of the Grey at least was targeted against the chem-barons (the very people that were poisoning Zaun with Shimmer and that Jinx spent years helping), and the Grey is also not shown to be lethal. Silco spreading shimmer, on the other hand, was not targeted. He didn't sell shimmer in a controlled manner for its healing properties, he sold it in a widespread manner, getting people addicted, debilitated, and turning them into monsters that attack other people. And Jinx helped Silco do it. What she did is much worse than what Vi did, but apparently it's ok for Jinx to poison her own people.** (And that's not even mentioning all the other bad things against Zaun that Jinx helped happen by working with Silco, like the child slave labor, the killing of the Firelights and all other of Silco's crimes)

3) "Wish I was seeing things when you decided to throw in with the Piltie goons who murdered mom and dad"

Again, so hypocritical. Yes, Vi joined the enforcers. But she joined a team with an enforcer that she trusted (Caitlyn), and she didn't join anyone directly responsible for their parent's deaths. Jinx, on the other hand, actually joined the man directly responsible for the deaths of their adoptive family.** Not to mention that Jinx's actions are the main reason Vi joined the enforcers in the first place.

**By the way, I know that Jinx was a kid when she was taken in by Silco. But as an adult, we never see Jinx express remorse for working with him. On the contrary, we see her grieve him, smell his jacket and only ever think fondly of him, never criticizing him for his role in destroying Zaun. And while she was a kid when she was taken in, she continues helping him as an adult, she continues doing it even after Vi comes back and tries to help her, and it's also implied that Ekko tried to help her in the past and she refused (or if he didn't try, she still could have tried to ask for his help, she had somewhere else to go other than staying with Silco). She could have left Silco as an adult but didn't. As Ekko said, she works for Silco not because she needs to, but because she wants to, and she constantly seeks Silco's validation. So while I can understand that Jinx was a vulnerable kid that was manipulated by Silco, I still think that if she's going to make these accusations against Vi without ever self-reflecting about her own role in helping Silco oppress Zaun, then it's fair to call out her hypocrisy.

4) "Wake up, sis. I'm a hero. I busted half of Zaun out of Stillwater while you were passed out in the bottom of a mug."

First of all, it's incredibly insensitive for her to throw Stillwater in Vi's face, considering that she knows Vi spent 7 years there, and it's really cruel to mock Vi for being "passed out in the bottom of a mug" considering that part of the reason Vi has been spiraling and drinking were Jinx's own actions. Jinx is part of the reason why Vi has been getting wasted like this.

But it's also hypocritical, because she is accusing Vi of doing nothing while Zaun is suffering, even though Jinx herself was also doing nothing. She was hiding with Isha and would not have helped anyone if Isha hadn't been taken. Not to mention that her own terrorist attacks are the very reason Zaun is being occupied, and Vi helped Zaun way more than Jinx ever did.

(Tbh, I find it frustrating that Vi never got to properly answer to Jinx's accusations or point out Jinx's hypocrisy. I get that for most of the show, Vi is never really in a good state of mind to actually answer to these accusations, especially because Vi is usually busy blaming herself for everything. So I'm not saying it's bad writing that Vi never properly defended herself against these accusations. But it's still very frustrating)

[httpsserene]

I’m begging you, please write something for us Lance girlies.

𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭-𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞? 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝! - 𝐥𝐬. 𝟏𝟖 | 𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝟒𝟎𝟒: 𝐏𝐍𝐅 |

𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝟒𝟎𝟒: 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞

summary: it’s the most wonderful time of the year! you swear there’s love in the air. however, your friends, family, and fans think you need intensive therapy. content warning: vacation romance. girls trip. love at first sight. fluff. profanity. mentions of reader’s previously failed relationships. reader has a mom and sister. sibling dynamics (bullying). friendship. delusion. reader has a puppy. all photos are from pinterest.  pairing: lance stroll x fem!black!reader

from serene: i wish peace, love, and happiness on everyone’s soul…and i hope my unexpected lance stroll smau series distracts you from the torment of the race weekend. LOL xxx < 3

⌕ join taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents | series toc | next ↻

twitter • ynplays • december 11th

imessage • yn and friends

instagram • ynplays • dec12th • winter wonderland ⚑

liked by kyedae, taytagames, yourmom, and 13,244 others

ynplays: brr 🥶 if only their was a 6-foot, brown-eyed, strong man to keep me warm 😏🥺

tagged yoursister, yourbestie, yourfriend1, yourfriend2

view comments

user1 so it starts 😣

➥ user2 please let this be a normal vacation!!!

➥ user3 with yn??? no way

yourmom i didn't raise you to act like this…

➥ yoursister mom idk where you went wrong with her

➥ ynplays she let me have unmonitored access to the internet

➥ user4 ah that makes sense 🙂‍↕️

➥ user5 that'll do it mhm

yourbestie please can we go inside the fucking resort my ass is freezing as im typing this

➥ yourfriend1 u just mad bc u slipped and busted your ass

➥ yourbestie would you be mad if i punched you so hard yo nose broke?

➥ user6 heyyYYY come getcho friends yn!!!

➥ user7 they about to crash out 😳😳😳

user8 lots of athletes like to go skiing and snowboarding during their winter breaks 👀

➥ yourfriend2 DO NOT give her any ideas, pls im begging you 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️🙏🏽🙏🏽

➥ user8 american football players, basketball players, racecar drivers, hockey players, tennis players...😏

➥ ynplays omg ao3 fic, meet-cute, 654k words, love at first sight, strangers to lovers, no angst, happy ending, hockey player x yourname romance irl???

➥ yourfriend2 i begged,,,

twitter • ynplays • december 12th

instagram • ynplays • dec13th • the slopes ⚑

liked by yoursister, qtcinderella, yourbestie, and 15,093 others

ynplays: sega’s first snow and my first day on the slopes 🥹🐶

tagged yoursister, yourbestie, yourfriend1, yourfriend2, segagenesisthedawg

view comments

user9 is your puppy named after the video game franchise, SEGA?

➥ ynplays yes! sega made mortal kombat which is my fav fighting game, so i named her after the company :)

➥ ynplays also, you can't forget about sonic and persona (super monkey ball too!!!)

➥ user10 me n the boys go crazy on super monkey ball

yourbestie pretty girl < 3

➥ yoursister if i was a man...mhm 😈

➥ yourfriend1 why do u always say some weird shit

➥ user11 turning your family tree into a circle energy

user12 are you just skiing or are you going to snowboard too??

➥ ynplays i want to do both! starting with skiing bc it's a "ski" resort ig? but i can't wait to try a board :)

➥user13 sounds like a fun! hope you have a nice vacay < 3333

user14 YNNNN ⚠️⚠️ you should get some of those plush turtles that you put on your butt so it doesn't hurt as much when you fall ⚠️⚠️

➥ user15 yes omg like this comment so she can see ittttt

➥ user16 those cushions literally saved my ass when i went boarding last year fr

➥ ynplays should i get one? do they sell them anywhere near the resorts?

➥ user16 yes, they should!

igstory • ynplays uploaded!

[caption; well,,,i think i need skiing lessons. hope the man i ran into has less snow down his shirt than i do.]

user17: eating shit is a staple of learning to ski

user18: the man 😀🫨 ynplays: i think it was the same dude who opened the door for me !!! user18: babe that's fate atp i don't make the rules

yourfriend2: i think you're about to have your meet-disaster. look up, he's skiing our way ynplays: oGM WH$T TH3!?!!

twitter • ynplays • december 13th

igstory • ynplays uploaded!

[caption1; he said i was a total loss at skiing and taught me how to snowboard instead ;p] [caption2; is it love if he buys you $25 ski resort hot cocoa?]

user19: oh no you're down BAD

yourfriend1: idk if it’s love but it's a stupid purchase 👏🏽 i can tell you that much

yoursister: no the fuck it's not love 🤬

user20: $25 HOT COCOA?!! outrageous user20: you better marry that man ynplays: you understand me on an subatomic level

instagram • yourbestie • dec13th • the shredder ⚑

liked by ynplays, yoursister, yourfriend2, and 8,764 others

yourbestie: we’re all way better at this snowboarding thing, even yn. thanks to her “brown eyed beau” 🤨 (her name not mine)

tagged yoursister, yourbestie, yourfriend1, yourfriend2, ynplays

view comments

user21: oh them drinks look thirst quenching 🤤🤤🤤

➥ user22: i wish free refills were implemented worldwide

user23: they would have to chain me up in my room if i were at this resort...i'd be foaming out the mouffff 😮‍💨🥴

➥ user24: bro what 🤣🤣🤣

➥ user25: think it's time you get castrated lil bro

➥ user26: watchlist type beat 🫵🏽🫵🏽🫵🏽

yourfriend1: i thought this was supposed to be a girls trip :(

➥ yourfriend2: it never is with yn unfortunately

➥ yourbestie: FRFR this turned into the girls....and l****

➥ ynplays: don't be fucking rude 😒

➥ ynplays: he payed for our drinks and taught me how to shred ☹️

user27: "l****" ???? alright agents let's find out who this mfer is

➥ user28: *brushes off my criminal justice degree*

➥ user29: i've compiled a list of five letter boy names that start with L on a google doc and male celebs who have posted any ski resort pics or those who implied they were going

➥ user30: i have a google doc of all the male athletes who have posted any skiing/snowboading/resort pics AND athletes who implied they were going somewhere cold for holiday

➥ user29: ,,,i like your style. let's merge our docs 🤝

➥ user31: post the link on twitter and let's fucking get to it

© httpsserene 2024

[defnotsoju]

Can you add anal or petplay on your minju smut?😂

THE KITTEN IN MY HOTEL ROOM

ILLIT's MINJU × M! READER

There was nothing better than hanging out with friends at a club after a long work week. You were drinking to the max, dancing, making out with random women in the club who were selling themselves for a few hundred dollars. Your life as a student was one of the best experiences you ever had and you would never give it up if you could. But what could be better than student life in Seoul?

Having a prostitute in your hotel room waiting for you every night and ready to serve you with her body.

The moment you entered the hotel room, you noticed the brown haired girl sitting on the large bedroom wearing a very cute lingerie. Although it was cute, the way her breasts were pressed together, expressing the line of her bust really turned you on. Her hair was wavy, her thighs were completely exposed and the material over her breasts and pussy was so thin that you could see through them. You could swear this is the hottest sight you've ever seen.

When you stood in front of her, you spread her legs apart with your knee and grabbed her chin. You made her look at you, smiling mischievously at the way she was looking at you.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Someone's impatient, huh?" You laughed and started caressing her lower lip with your thumb, carefully inserting the same finger into her mouth. "Suck it." You ordered her.

The brunette began to suck your thumb, looking up at your eyes that hungrily gazed at her semi-naked body. "You're so hot like this. I don't think I could go without fucking you anymore. You know what to do." You pushed your finger deeper into her mouth, making her gag slightly. She listened to you and obediently turned around, settling on the mattress on her hands and knees.

You were glaring at her ass which was so pale that the slap on her soft ass left a red mark from your hand. You were constantly enjoying the way her body reacted to the slaps, which made you slap her ass several more times in a row. She just moaned desperately and her body twitched.

But you yourself were eager to fuck her. You could feel the heat hugging your cock after you had applied the lube on it. Your movements were more difficult at first precisely because of how such a tight hole Minju has. The sight was brutal. Her back was arched, her chest pushed out against the mattress, her ass lifted up against your body. The leash was tightened around your hand and you were making her neck arch back until you had lost all sense of what you were doing. You had begun to aggressively thrust your pelvis into her ass, loud slaps of your skin echoing through the hotel room. You could hear her breathing heavily, the bell around her neck ringing constantly.

"S..Sir.. please fuck me slower It h-hurts.." Minju tried to plead with you politely and respectfully, calling you names as if you were higher in the hierarchy than her, which you were. She was just a prostitute and nothing more. But that didn't stop you. It even gave you the motivation to bang her as if it was the last time in your life, making the girl scream loudly in the room. You decided to lean over her yourself, starting to moan against her ear, which you bit.

"Meow for me. Be my good obedient kitty. Isn't that why I pay you? Why don't you do your job like the slut you are? Do you want me to tell your boss what you're doing? If you don't want to get into trouble, listen to what I tell you and you will be rewarded in the end." You growled against her ear, grabbing her hair and starting to pull hard. You pressed her head into the mattress, enjoying the way she meowed for you.

"Fuck...! S..Sir ~ This is so g..good.. N..N..Nyangh ~" The girl was moaning and shaking, trying to somehow squeeze her thighs as if that would stop the feeling of being aggressively fucked like she was some kind of animal. "N..Nyanghhh ~ D..Don't stop fuckin' me like that! P..Please!"

The time passed imperceptibly, and you had already reached your orgasm. You came so much in her tight hole that your cum started to flow out of her anus. Minju looked back at you, expecting you to help her cum as well, but she was going to keep her hopes up because you had other plans for her. She was licking the back of her palm, rubbing it after that on her forehead and acting exactly like the kitty you wanted her to be for you.

Without saying anything you grabbed her leash again and made her walk like an animal on all fours to the small fridge in the corner of the room. You took out a bottle of milk from the fridge and took a deep bowl, placing it on the floor and crouched next to her body.

"This is your reward for the good girl you are for me. " You stroked her soft, long and thick hair and she looked at you smiling. As soon as you poured it into her bowl, you told her to start drink the 'milk' like a kitten, and she listened to you.

Minju bent down and licked the white liquid, widening her eyes and immediately pulled away. It was your sperm. You had made her drink your orgasm, which you had saved especially for this session.

It looked like she didn't want to drink your cum from the bowl, but you forced her down and shoved her face inside, Minju closing her eyes and squeezing her eyelids as she drank from the bowl. "Good girl." You spoke and grabbed her hair to keep it out of the way. "I want you to drink it all."

[scoopsahoy]

whale tail

ぺ  word count ⋰ 1.8k

✰  tw ⋰ none :)

❍  cw ⋰ swearing, sex + fingering, oral (female receiving)

✐  masterlist

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

Eddie was convinced you had to be teasing him at this point. The way you swayed your hips when you walked, those too-tight jeans, and the way you touched him nonchalantly when you spoke. It was like you wanted him to jump your bones.

But there was one day in particular that he couldn't get out of his head. He had mentioned wanting to sell some vinyls he didn't listen to, and they just happened to be the bands you loved most. So you begged to come look at what he was discarding, him enthusiastically agreeing — what, with the crush he had on you.

But when you squatted down to dig through the box of records, your underwear poked out above your jeans. The only reason it caught his eye was because they weren't just any regular underwear.

You were wearing a thong.

It wasn't intentional, they just happened to be the only clean underwear you had at the moment.

Eddie didn't breathe for probably a good ten seconds, his eyes locked on the Y shape they created. They were a deep red and had lacy trim, and he wondered how they could possibly be comfortable. He wondered if you wore them for him, if you walked around every day with those panties on.

And the thought of that turned him on a ridiculous amount. Picturing you going to school every single day with the hottest underwear hidden beneath those clothes could've made him bust on its own, but he had to control himself while you were in his room.

You gasped, finding a copy of Rock a Little by Stevie Nicks. You stood up and turned to face him, your whale tail disappearing under your shirt.

"Where did you get this?" you asked, staring at the album cover.

"What, that? A thrift store, I think."

"Do you have any idea how hard I've searched for this?" He shook his head. "I have every single other Stevie album, but I've never been able to find this. It's always sold out." You looked up at him. "And you found it at a thrift store!" He chuckled a bit. "You lucky fucker. How much?"

"It's yours."

"What?"

"Take it. It's yours."

"Come on. I brought money."

"Seriously, just take it. I don't want your money."

You rolled your eyes. "Eddie, don't be ridiculous. The whole point of this was because you wanted to sell these. Let me buy it." You pulled the five dollar bill out of your pocket and stepped over to him, shoving it in his front pants pocket.

He instinctively jerked back a bit after realizing he had a partial boner. You noticed as soon as your fingers went in, and you looked up at him.

"Sorry," he said immediately, walking quickly into the living room. You two were the only ones home, Eddie having said something about his uncle working.

Your eyes were wide and you swallowed the spit in your mouth, following him after a few seconds.

"It's okay," you reassured. "I shouldn't have done that."

"No, it's not your fault."

"I mean, isn't it, kind of?" He furrowed his brows a bit. "I'm not an idiot, Eddie. I could feel you staring at my ass when I was squatting."

"I-I wasn't staring at your ass."

"Then what were you staring at?"

"Uh... I could see your underwear."

"My underwear?" That's when you realized what you were wearing and your cheeks went red. "Oh. Shit, I... I didn't even realize I was wearing those."

"They're pretty," he said awkwardly.

"Uh... thanks. I should, uh, get going." He reached into his pocket and pulled the money back out and tried handing it to you. "For the last time, Munson. Keep it. That's how selling things works." He still looked annoyed, but agreed and laid it down on the coffee table. "I'll see you around school, yeah?"

"Yeah."

And with that, you slipped out of his door and practically sprinted to your car.

—

The next day at school, you were putting your books in your locker when you heard footsteps stop on the other side of the door. You closed it a bit to see Eddie standing there with his arms crossed.

"Hey," you greeted warmly.

"Hi."

"What's up?"

He held your jacket out and you sighed. "You left this at my place."

"Oh, thank you. I completely forgot about it."

"Yeah."

He didn't move after you threw the jacket into your locker.

"Is there something else?"

"I... Yeah, kinda."

"Okay, what is it?"

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about last night."

"What about last night?"

"You know."

You remembered the whale tail, mentally punching yourself.

"Oh. That."

"Yeah. That."

"So what are you asking?"

He looked at you for a minute before choking out, "Come by again tonight." He leaned closer to you, his lips just inches from your ear. "And wear them again."

Without another word, he turned and walked away. You were in a bit of shock, your eyes wide and mouth agape.

So when you found yourself standing outside his trailer, your fist in the air waiting to knock and the same thong underwear on as yesterday, you took a deep breath before connecting your hand with the door.

You didn't even finish knocking before the door whipped open. There stood a smiling Eddie with a beer bottle in his hand.

"Hey," he smirked.

"Hi."

"Come on in." You walked up the few stairs and into the living room, where he came up behind you with another bottle in hand. "Want one?" He put them down on the counter after he asked.

"Oh, no thanks. I don't really drink-"

You were interrupted by his lips against yours. He was gentle but dominant, his hands on your sides. You kissed back and braced yourself on his shoulders.

He turned you around and sat you on the small table to your left, his hips between your thighs.

"This okay?" he asked into your mouth.

"Yes," you breathed.

As you kissed, he reached down and unbuttoned your jeans, looking down to see the thong. He smirked, making eye contact with you.

"You wore 'em."

"You told me to."

"Mm. Good girl. Lift your hips up."

You did as told and leaned back on your hands, lifting your hips into the air to allow him to pull your pants off. He couldn't take his eyes off your body, the thong really complimenting your figure.

You pulled his lips back to yours and felt his fingers creep up your thigh. Once his pointer finger started lightly pressing to your underwear, you broke the kiss.

"Take 'em off me," you commanded, to which he followed. He pulled them off of you with such speed that you couldn't even lift your hips all the way.

Once you were exposed, he dropped to his knees and began kissing your thighs, making sure to look at your face. You bit your lip and whimpered as you watched his mouth inch towards their destination.

And when he buried his face in your pussy, you threw your head back and moaned. You laid back so you were flat against the table, your head hanging off.

He propped your legs on his shoulders and held the tops of your thighs, his tongue working wonders.

"Shit," you whispered, unable to stay still.

Getting you off seemed to be his only objective, watching your body writhe as he ate you out. One of your hands was tangled in his hair, the other hand on his.

Sloppy sounds filled the trailer, and it didn't take long for you to feel yourself going over the edge. But when you finally did, he didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. He continued exactly what he was doing, desperate to give you at least two or three orgasms before his pants even came off.

And when he succeeded the third time, you had to physically push him away. You'd never had more than two at a time, so the third one was almost too much for you.

When you looked down at him, his grinning face was soaked. You couldn't help but giggle as he wiped his chin with his shirt. He stood up and leaned over you, kissing your neck a few times before moving to your mouth.

"Do you have condoms?" you asked a moment later.

He immediately pulled one out of his pocket before undoing his own pants and dropping them to his ankles.

He was thick, and you could tell he was going to stretch you out. He tore open the condom wrapper with his teeth and put it on with ease, his fingers tracing circles around your clit. Your body jerked at the sensation, both of you chuckling.

He pressed the tip of his dick against your entrance, teasing you for a moment.

"Eddie, please."

And with that, he was pushing into you. The sound of your moans filled the room, your back arching.

"That okay?" he asked, looking at you for approval.

"So good."

That was his cue to bottom out, your eyebrows furrowing at his size. He started out thrusting slowly, giving you time to adjust. But his speed soon increased, involuntary moans tumbling from your mouth.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he whined, his grip on your hips only tightening.

"Kiss me, Eddie," you begged, him leaning down and connecting your lips. You could tell this was uncomfortable for him, so he picked you up, still inside of you, and carried you over to the counter. He sat you down and held your head in place to kiss you, continuing to thrust into you.

This position was even more pleasurable, your body flush against his as he fucked you. The hand not on your face was pressed against your lower back, keeping you still.

He was close. He was never this quick to finish. But something about your pussy was magical. You were easily the best fuck he'd had. But he was good at holding off his orgasms for longer sex. And he wanted to please you.

So when he could tell you might be close to another orgasm, he reached down between you two and with his thumb started fingering you.

You couldn't even speak before another one ripped through you, unable to keep yourself from moaning loudly. To quiet you, he kissed you deeply, engulfing every sound that came from your mouth. And feeling you cum around him made him fill the condom, both of you grunting and moaning into each other's mouths.

When he finally stilled his movements, the only sound in the room was that of your out of sync breathing. Your foreheads together, neither of you could move for a moment. He kissed you, you returning it lazily.

"Jesus," he said.

"That was good," you whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. You're good at that."

"I know." His sarcastic cockiness could only make you chuckle.

Neither of you spoke while you got redressed. You decided to take another look at his records, your thong poking out of your pants again.

"We should do this again sometime," he said as he opened your car door for you.

You leaned against the inside of the door, propping your elbows on it.

"You want to?"

"Absolutely. Do you?"

You smiled. "Absolutely. I'll be back tomorrow."