#can you gues who my favorite was

[embodiment-of-stress]

Decided to watch the Suckening and drew the luckiest NPC (hopefully still) alive

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

I think another reason why I get rather annoyed when people hate on ToA Apollo is because how hypocritical their criticisms are.

I just saw a post talking about how great it is that Annabeth gets to show a lot of emotion, especially by crying. I also recall moments where she got frustrated or angry, and I found myself absolutely agreeing!

But then my thoughts turned to Apollo, another character who shows a lot of emotion.

But you know what he’s called for being frustrated, or upset, or for crying?

Whiny. He’s called whiny.

Apollo gets frustrated when he’s unable to perform something (archery) he used to be extremely good at. He’s upset that he can no longer use a bow correctly.

And people call him whiny for that. Apparently, those people have never experienced, let alone heard of The Gifted-Kid, something all Gifted-Kids (hello, tis me, Gifted-Kid since 4th grade RIP) can relate to Apollo over.

You were really good at something but all of a sudden you can no longer perform it as well? You’re not hitting your usual mark?

Well too bad, according to the fan base, you should shut up and not be so awfully whiny! It’s just archery!

(That was obviously in jest but you get my point.)

Additionally, Apollo never complains about important things. He complains about having to walk, but not the injury that’s literally turning him into a zombie and physically tormenting him.

That post really made me think about this, and then I asked myself; “Why? Why are people’s thoughts so different on Annabeth v Apollo showing emotion?”

It became apparent rather quickly, if you ask me.

Annabeth is a woman. Of course she should be able to show emotion! also maybe deep-seated sexism of ‘women are emotional’

Apollo is a man. And God forbid men show emotion I guess smh so also sexism

Because think about it. How many of the RRVerse male protagonists were allowed to cry? To be fully, and undeniably, upset?

I can only remember Frank crying on the plane after his grandmother’s presumed death, and Grover sniffling/getting teary-eyed in PJO. I don’t recall Percy, Jason, Leo, or Nico ever crying, or really having powerful bursts of emotion.

Yes, yes, Percy and Nico have both gotten mad and unleashed their fury upon someone, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.

I’m talking about letting them feel, letting them be emotional.

Not a burst of anger. But real, genuine character-driven emotion.

The fact that I can only name Frank and Grover from the previous two series is truly saddening.

Apollo gets to feel. To let his emotions flow freely. He whines, yes, but he also gets frustrated, he gets upset, and most of all he cries.

That all makes him a real character, someone people can relate to.

I’ll admit I’m a rather emotional person too. I have a quick temper, and more often than not the water-works come on real quick when I get upset. It’s a normal emotional response, but it can be difficult to work with, especially when you’re trying to stay calm.

Apollo is the first RRVerse protagonist to be allowed to have feelings— strong ones, even. And I can relate to that. There’s a reason why Apollo, Reyna, and Annabeth are all favorites of mine, and that’s because I see myself in them.

Annabeth is prideful. I can be too. She gets obsessed over her work. I do that too. Hates spiders? Oh hell yeah.

Reyna gave me someone to connect with over my sexuality. Ignore that Rick mixed what aro and ace are for a moment please She really gave my demiromantic self somebody to relate with, because the lack of aro rep is criminal. and no the Hunters are not aro rep

Apollo is emotional. He’s made mistakes and wants to do better.

Who wouldn’t see themselves in him? I certainly do.

And yet, he gets called whiny for having the literal rug pulled out from under him again and again, and he doesn’t even let himself complain over what he should, absolutely complain about!

Idk. I think there’s a lot to be said about how this fandom treats emotional characters, especially based on gender.

I guess this is all to say don’t judge a fictional character, because you’re judging a real person too.

And real people have feelings, you know.

[assexpansion]

You asked me to write a story about a girl falling asleep in a special hot-tub at a spa, so how about I ask you this:

A petite girl who's spending some time at her new private pool in her new home, where something occurs, of course granting her breasts, belly and butt of tremendous proportions? I'll leave the details to you, you're a writing genius after all <3

Off The Deep End (18+/Incest/Hyper)

After 8 years of education, 2 diplomas, and a successfully defended thesis, a well-deserved summer break awaited Ariana at her parents' new home. They welcomed their short but high-achieving daughter with welcome arms and began the tour of the small mansion. Their daughter was enchanted by the luxury abode, especially its pool...

Ariana was feeling burnt-out by the last push of studying, so the family's mansion, where she'd be fed and could relax, was like a dream oasis. Then, she noticed the back of her older step-brother Benji's head under the backyard gazebo. Her dream cracked. Her parents encouraged her to chat and catch up with him, noting that he was in charge of preparing the new pool, before returning inside to cook a 'Welcome Home' dinner for their favorite child.

She approached Benji, who was faced away and on his phone with earbuds in. Typical. He never made any effort to be nice to her. So why should she? While Ariana was off making their family proud, Benji had taken the low road of slacking and wasting away his life. The last thing she wanted to do was make small talk with him. It was bad enough that they were related.

"Hey, gues what? Im back! They really went all out with this place, huh?" Ariana said as friendly as possible.

Her eyes flicked to the small screen her brother was looking at.

"Benji... are you... watching porn?"

The distinct figure of a huge-titted, big-bellied, fat-assed blonde woman struggling to sit up from her seat was there, plain as day. Ariana paused in surprise and disgust as she saw the ridiculously proprotioned pornstar from behind Benji's shoulder. The side of his face was expressionless and slightly slackjawed as he watched. Ariana could hear faint, feminine groans from his earbuds with each lurch of her huge body.

"Umm, what the fuck are you watching?" Ariana snapped. "Benji! Im right behind you!" She cried out, stomping her foot down to get his attention.

But Benji made no sign that he had heard her, immersed in the video. He was totally enamored with the triple-extra-large woman on the screen. She was perfect, he thought. Who needed money or school when a clear purpose in life; to serve, worship, and feed a happy, fattened woman was right there? His own daydream was shattered as Ariana ripped the cords out of his head and began yelling in his ear.

"What the hell do you think you're doing watching that out here?!"

Benji's face flushed in embrassment. He raised his hand in admittance, still holding his cellphone with the video playing out loud as he spoke.

"Okay, okay. It's off!"

"God, I'm just so heavy!" It played.

"I didn't think anyone was around!" Benji snapped.

"My stupid fat ass can't even get up!"

"I guess.. welcome back, Ariana." He mumbled.

"I'm such a big, brainless butterball!"

Ariana snatched the device and paused the video. She held the phone to her brother's throat like a knife.

"I've only been here for five minutes and you've already found a way to ruin it." She growled. "Don't let me catch you watching this again."

Benji nodded and gingerly took the device out of her hands.

"Now, how about you get the pool ready so I can start my vacation?" She asked, more of a demand than a question.

The siblings split apart with Ariana resting in a different outdoor seat under the gazebo while Benji gathered the pool conditioners. His earlier cowardice festered into a black anger as he thought about how she had treated him. Ariana was perfect, and he was nothing. It was all he had heard throughout his life. The nerve of that stuck-up little brat. I'll show her, he thought.

Ariana watched as her lumpy step-brother poured a half gallon of pool-aid into the calm water. Unbeknownst to her it was mixed with a large scoop of a secret powder he'd stored away for a special occasion. The pink grains in the white solution slowly mixed into the aquamarine water. Whatever, she deserves it, especially after sneaking up on him. He tested the water with a strip and deemed it safe. Benji hid his knowing smirk, putting on a solemn face as he approached Ariana.

"Hey, so... I'm sorry about that. You're right. That was gross and not cool of me." He said with a sincere tone. "I know we fight, but Mom and Dad just want us to be on good terms with each other. I think they want a little bit of you to rub off on me." He said calmly.

It was easy to lie when you know you've already won, Benji thought. "Anyways, I was going to have the first dip in the new pool, but... would you like to have the honor?"

Ariana was slightly shocked by this more compassionate side of her brother. Maybe he was turning over a new leaf. Wow! And all it took was catching him watching fat fetish videos. Who knew?

"What I saw is going to burned into my mind, but... sure. Thanks, Benji." Ariana said, only gritting her teeth a little.

She swiftly changed into a two-piece swimsuit that showed off her trim body and cautiously stepped down the pool's ladder. Benji sat on the seat nearby, fiddling on his phone as she dove headfirst into the spiked mixture.

"How's the water?" He asked as Ariana surfaced.

"Not bad. Cooler than I thought." She answered, glancing towards him. "Are you looking at more of those videos?"

Benji rolled his eyes. "No."

"I mean, I guess it's okay that you do. It's weird, but everyone's got different tastes. Just keep it to your bedroom, okay?"

"Got it, loud and clear." He said in monotone, trying to go along with whatever she said to act casual.

It was easy to take the high road when he knew that she'd have her just deserts. Ariana treaded water in the shallow end, not quite tall enough to touch the bottom. Unbeknownst to her, Benji's dissolved powder had begun absorbing into her skin the moment she had entered the pool. As it did, the tiny clumping grains collected throughout her small body, stimulating and reforming Ariana from the inside.

"I don't mean to re-open that can of worms, but can I ask why? Like, why do you like those... types of women?." She called out across the quiet backyard.

The flushed Benji had to consider that. However, it was difficult to when his step-sisters' breasts were beginning to fill her swimsuit. The green cheetah pattern was clearly warping, even through the ripples of her twirling arms. His focus dulled as he stared at the B-cup breasts that she had never had before. Mouth slightly agape, he shook to his senses and tried to remember the question.

"Well, umm... I guess it's a, uh... primal thing. You know, like if a woman is big and happy, then that means she's cared for... and can bare children." He said off the fly.

Ariana held the edge of the pool to breathe and considered his answer. Below her elegant nose and dark lips, the tops of two bulges began to rise out of the water. Her C-cups swelled to D-cups in a matter of seconds as the osmotic powder filled the growing woman up. Benji watched her breasts inflate and settle, dropping into fat tits that began to poke out from the sides of her swimsuit as she pushed off and resumed treading water. With each rotation of her limbs, they looked thicker and thicker. Benji needed to talk or do something to stop himself from ogling her.

"Maybe that's where it stems from, but there's more to it. Like, individual preferences." He continued, trying to keep her attention from drifting.

"Fair." She said, nodding with an agreeing raise of her eyebrows. "But, it's, like, so extreme. That woman was what? Four thousand pounds?"

He looked beneath her blossoming breasts to the totally out of character potbelly that was pushing out from Ariana's midsection, making her look a few months pregnant.

"That's right." Benji said. "And I bet that woman in the video makes more than you and me both ever will."

"At the cost of her body, though." Ariana finished wistfully. "But, after six years in school, the thought of cashing out and going brain-dead isn't half bad now that I think about it."

A nagging righteous voice told Benji that enough was enough. His step-sister had already changed more than it would need to totally affect her life. It's already done then, another voice countered. Benji knew their parents had bought this mansion and it's pool on a whim while she was completing her second degree, sure that even if their finances fell apart, the brilliant Ariana would find a high-paying job to support them. Benji rolled his eyes back and saved the thought of her extreme proportions in a business suit. Her chances of being taken seriously with huge H-cups were slim, Benji selfishly thought. Maybe she'd be better at something else.

"Would you ever consider it?" Benji asked, wincing as she slowly swam her much rounder body towards the pool ladder.

"Only if I was desperate" Ariana answered promisingly.

She kicked fattening thighs that wouldn't look out of place on her mom, he thought. In just a minute or less, the powder had turned Ariana into a stacked, plump sex goddess.

"Well, this might be easier than I imagined then." Benji said with a grin as he stood up.

As she reached the ladder and began to pull herself up, Ariana noticed her body felt four times heavier than it was before. Benji walked toward the ladder where his step-sister was realizing just how big she was. Followed by him were their parents carrying the 'Welcome Home' dinner. Ariana flashed him a dead eyed sideways look of cold rage as she looked up from her changed body.

"Oh, you are so dead." She breathed before all of hell broke loose.

[cherrycola27]

The Tipping Point

Summary: When Jake learns that no one has ever satisfied you, he makes it his mission to change that. Inspired by my favorite Seresin Slut @thedroneranger and my favorite Rooster fic I've written Just The Tip

Warnings: Language, Smut, 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Hangman x Reader

...........................................

Your eyes are as wide as the dinner plates the two of you were eating off of. You couldn't believe what your boyfriend had just suggested.

"You can't be serious." You said, looking at him in disbelief. "Jake, please tell me you're kidding."

"I'm as serious as a heart attack, darlin." Jake smiled back at you. "Jake, I—" He cut you off before you could finish.

"You told me that when we first started dating, you wanted to take things slow. And I'm totally okay with that. But you've also told me that no one has ever been able to get you off. I want to change that." He stated.

"I understand that, Jake, but I—" you protested.

"But nothing, honey. I'm a visual learner. Show me what you like. I want to take care of you. I want to show you that I'm better than the guys you dated before me. Prove that I am the best of the best." He smirked.

It really shouldn't come as a surprise to you. The fact that Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, Naval aviator extraordinaire, would want to prove to you that he is the best. The two of you had been together for just over five months, and in that time, he'd already prove himself to be the best boyfriend you'd ever had.

When you first started dating, you told him you wanted to take things slow. After a while, you told him the real reason was because no boyfriend or hook up in the past had ever made you cum. He had been trying to rectify that situation for a while now.

Though, him asking you to touch yourself so he could watch was not something you expected. You met his eyes. At first, you thought he was kidding. But with just one look, you knew he was serious.

You sighed. "Okay" you said in a voice just above a whisper.

"Yeah?" He asked. "Yeah." You confirmed.

A huge smile broke out across his face. Before you could change your mind, Jake was scooping you out of your chair and hauling you to your bedroom.

He gently deposited your feet on the floor. "Where do you want me to sit? You're in charge here." Jake said, kissing your head.

"Um, you can pull my desk chair to the foot of the bed. You said shyly. Jake quickly grabbed it and positioned it. With your back turned to him, you stripped off your shirt and pants. In a moment of confidence, you turned to face him. You were wearing a baby blue set. You could see he pupils go wide at the site of you.

Without saying a word, you reached behind your back and unhooked your bra. You slipped it off your shoulders and tossed it to the ground.

Silently, you let your panties slide down your legs. They were already damp, just from the intensity of how he was watching you.

Feeling cocky, you balled them up and tossed them to him. He caught them and immediately inhaled your scent.

"All of this just for me?" He asked. You giggled.

"Do you mind if I use my vibrator?" You asked him.

"Whatever you want, sweetheart. This is about you." He said. There wasn't a hint of jealousy in his voice. You'd been with a few gues who would have scoffed at the idea, but not Jake. He wanted to learn what made you tick. He was invested in you.

You opened your nightstand and pulled out your favorite purple bullet. You grabbed a pillow and laid down on the bed. Once you were comfortable, you put the pillow under your hips and spread your legs.

"Such a pretty pussy." Jake mumbled out. You raised your head just enough to look at him. His eyes were trained on your core.

You grabbed your vibrator and turned it to your favorite setting.

You let it slide through your slick and gathered it up before setting it directly on your clit.

You circled the toy around your aching bundle of nerves and sighed. Your left hand came up to squeezed your breasts, bringing your nipples to hard, pebbled peaks.

"Oh, Jake," you sighed. His names fell easily from your lips as you dipped your toy into your wet cunt before dragging it back to your clit.

"Fuck," you heard Jake grunt out. You looked up to see his shirt had been stripped off and that his pants and boxers were pushed down to his ankles and he was stroking his cock.

"Learning anything?" You asked him.

"Lots, keep going, baby. I want to see you cum for me." He moaned out.

Emboldened by his words, you turned the vibrator up a setting. The strong vibrations made your body jolt.

You kept circling the toy on your clit, applying pressure. You could feel your release approaching. Your toes curled, and you felt yourself clenching around nothing.

Your head thrashed wildly, and you couldn't contain your cries of pleasure.

"Oh fuck Jakey. Feels so good. Mmm, yes, Jake, yes!" You cried out.

"Keep going, baby girl. You have no idea how hot this is. My cock is so fucking hard from watching you. Better than any fucking porn." He moans out. You can hear him panting. It makes you even wetter knowing that he is enjoying this just as much as you are.

"I'm s'close Jake. I'm gonna cum." You cry. You can feel the tightness in your belly.

"Cum for me baby. I wanna see you cum for me. Please." Jake almost begs.

You flick your wrist and circle your bud a few more times before you are cumming hard.

"JAKE!" You cry his name as you work yourself through your high.

Once you've come down. You turn the toy off and set it to the side. You sit up enough to look at him.

Jake is panting, and you see the white ropes of cum covering his abdomen.

"Christ baby, you don't know how hot that was." He tells you.

You lay back on the pillows and sigh. You're trying to think of a smart ass reply, but your brain isn't working.

"Has anyone ever gone down on you?" Jake asks.

"No." You breathe out, still staring at the ceiling.

"Can I?' He asked. "Now?" You lean up and see that he's moved from the chair and is kneeling at the foot of the bed.

"There's no better time than the present." He states.

"You're sure?" You ask him. This is definitely not how you thought this evening would go.

He nods his head furiously.

"Well, why not?" You say before flopping back.

You'd no sooner gotten settled before Jake was pulling you to the edge of the bed. He made sure the pillow was still under your hips before he threw both of your legs over his shoulders.

"Tell me what you like and what you don't like, okay?" He asks.

"Yes, sir." You mock. But anything else dies on your lips as he broad, flat tongue slides across your slit.

Your hips jump at the pleasant but unfamiliar sensation. You hear him chuckle as his forearm comes to lay across your pelvis to keep you in place. He does it a few more times before tracing your clit with the just the tip of his tongue.

"Mmm.. that feels good." You sigh. He keeps doing it, speeding up and applying more pressure each time he does it.

It feels good, but you need more. You thread your fingers through his hair and push his face towards your core.

Taking the hint, Jake wraps his lips around the bundle and sucks it—hard.

"Shit! That feels so good, baby." You cry out. Jake hums against you and does it again.

He let's go of it would a soft pop before dipping his tongue into your greedy, wet hole.

He fucks it into you repeatedly. Your cries of pleasure, spurring him on. He laps at your core, tasting your sweet nectar. His nose bumps against your clit with every lick.

"Jake, I—I need—" you pant.

"What do you need, baby. Use your words. Tell Daddy what you need princess.

"Your fingers. Please, Daddy... need them to fill me up." You cry out.

He sinks his middle and ring fingers into you. You're so wet for him, the glide in easily. You're vaugly aware of the cool metal of his Naval Academy ring against your heat.

He curls them into you. Easily finding the textured spot that is guaranteed to have you cumming in minutes.

"Oh, Daddy, fuck, Jake, just like that!" You moan out.

Your hand grips his hair tighter. Your thighs close in on his head, trapping him there. The heel of your foot digs into his back. He'll probably have a bruise there in the morning, but neither of you seem to care.

Everything feels so fucking good. This is what you had been missing out on. Watching you get off had Jake hard as a rock again. He ground his hip into your mattress to relieve some pressure.

"You look so pretty like this baby." Jake praises you.

You look down and meet his eyes. The green of them is just a thin halo around his lust blown pupils. Never breaking eye contact, he sucks your clit back into his mouth and speeds up the motions of his fingers, curling them and scissoring your walls.

"Just like that! Oh, just like that! Please don't stop!" You beg him.

"Don't plan on it, sweets. Daddy isn't going to stop until you cum all over his face. Come on baby, give it to me. Make a mess all over my face!" He encouraged you.

You can feel your high building deep inside you. It's different, though. It's more intense than any orgasm that you've ever given yourself.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You chant.

"Jake, I'm gonna, shit daddy, gonna—" You try to warn him, but it's all too much, and before you can say anything else, you're cumming hard against his face. It's harder than you ever have cum in your life.

He works you through it, lapping and curling his fingers. He doesn't stop until you're cumming again. Screaming his name so loud, you know your neighbors can hear you.

He continues to drink up every last drop of your release. Your thighs are shaking as you push his head away. He unwrap himself and leans back on his haunches.

His spend coats his boxers because getting you off twice, with just his mouth and his fingers, God it was hot. But making you squirt for him? He feels like God himself because of that.

He crawls up beside you in the bed. Your eyes are glassy and your whole body is flushed.

"That was amazing." You gasp. You turn and look at him. He has a genuine smile on his face.

"So I'm definitely the best then?" He asks with a grin.

"Definitely. The others can't compete where they don't compare." You affirm.

He leans down to kiss you.

"We need to get cleaned up and change the sheets. We made a mess." He tells you.

"This goes without saying, but you're definitely the first person to make me squirt too." You tell him as you sit up.

"And I plan to be the last." He affirms as the two of you head to the shower.

"Is that so?" You cock an eyebrow and look at him.

"Absolutely."

Hope yall enjoyed this! As always, likes are great, but comments and reblogs are golden

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[delusionalwriter02]

hello i saw ur insta as ada member and i loved it!!! can you do it but with the port mafia ?? thank you

Insta as a Port Mafia's member

a/n : hey dear!! thank you so much for your request, I had SO MUCH fun writing this, hope you'll like it<33

<3 liked by Higucci, Gintonic and 753 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : my girl is trainingggg @.Higucci

Chu_uya : to train is to doubt your ability

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : she'll kick your ass

↳ Gintonic : all of us

↳ Chu_uya : what did I do again ??

↳ Higucci : just shut the fuck up and you'll be fine

↳ Daze_i : love to see you're still being bullied

↳ Chu_uya : I should have killed you in your mother's womb

↳ Daze_i : have fun finding her!!!!

The_Hirotsu : Gin you received a letter, I put it on your desk

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : we can receive letters ????

↳ The_Hirotsu : Of course we can

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : BOSS I WANT A MEETING RN

↳ M_Mori : What it is this time ?

↳ Yn_theonenandonly : SINCE WHEN ARE WE ALLOWED TO RECEIVE LETTERS ??

↳ M_Mori : Since forever

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : And I was the only one not knowing this ??

↳ Gintonic : apparently

↳ Chu_uya : you have fans or something ?

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : ALL THE TIMES I COULD HAVE HAD MY PACKAGES DELIVERED TO THE OFFICE

↳ The_Hirotsu : Why at the office ?

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : I spend most of my time there, it could have been so much easierrrrrrrr

↳ M_Mori : Well..... I'm glad you're aware now

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : WE'RE NOT FINISHED BOSS

<3 liked by Yosanurgirl, Gintonic and 280 others.

Yosanurgirl : THAT'S the Port Mafia

Yn_theoneandonly : @.Chu_uya @.Akutagawa @.Tachi_h @.Paupol what went through your mind ?

↳ Chu_uya : I can explain

↳ Tachi_h : no you can't, it was Akutagawa's idea

↳ Akutagawa : NO IT WAS NOT

↳ Higucci : so ? who was in charge ?

↳ Chu_uya : We can't say it, it's confidential

↳ Paupol : Very confidential

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : Verlaine, talk.

↳ Gintonic : Akutagawa ?

↳ Daze_i : mannnnn we never did that back then, the mafia is fun only when I leave

↳ Yn_theonenandonly : shut up, I want the tea

↳ Higucci : we're waiting

↳ Gintonic : Okay let me explain, if you don't tell us, I will be waiting at your door with so many tools it will take 10 lives to use them all, so, speak.

↳ Chu_uya : IT WAS HIROTSU'S IDEA HE WAS MAD BECAUSE THE SECURITY DIDN'T LET HIM SMOKE THERE SO HE ASKED US TO DESTROY THE PLACE AND THEN TAG

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : wtf

↳ Akutagawa : DAMN IT WHY CAN'T YOU JUST KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT

↳ Daze_i : I like it open

↳ Tachi_h : YOU SHUT UP YOU'RE NOT HELPING, CHUUYA MAN REALLY ???

↳ Chu_uya : BE MAD AT THE GIRLS NOT ME

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : @.The_Hirotsu care to explain ? it's childish, I would have expected it from them but from you ??

↳ Paulpol : I feel INSULTED

↳ Higucci : you ARE

↳ The_Hirotsu : I have things to do, see you never

↳ Gintonic : wtf is wrong with you

↳ Daze_i : well it all started when I was a baby

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : fuck imma sleep, you're all just a bunch of idiots

<3 liked by Atsushiii, Daze_i and 863 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : they were SO scared @.Chu_uya @.Akutagawa pussy

Atsushiii : Aku you're just playing rough but you're a real softie

↳ Akutagawa : imma dismember you

↳ Atsushiii : Yosano already did it, be original for once

↳ Daze_i : I raised you so well Atsushi !!!

↳ Akutagawa : don't fucking encourage him

Chu_uya : I wasn't scared I do this all the time

↳ Gintonic : being in an attraction ?

↳ Chu_uya : NO BEING IN THE AIR

↳ Daze_i : being so far from the ground is helping with your superiority complex ?

↳ Chu_uya : Imma pray for you

↳ Daze_i : huh ?

↳ Chu_uya : Pray for you to just kill yourself

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : that wasn't nice at all, apologize rn Chuuya

↳ Chu_uya : ME ??

↳ M_Mori : Apologize to Dazai.

↳ Chu_uya : BOSS ???? I always knew he was your favorite. I'm sorry Dazai

↳ Daze_i : good little dog, you deserve a reward

↳ Chu_uya : IMMA KILL YOU MYSELF

↳ Gintonic : they'll forever fight like child these two

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : Yeah I guess

OzuKoy : Next time we should go with the ADA, it's been so long since I saw you @.Yosanurgirl

↳ Yosanurgirl : yessss my girl we'll plan that

↳ Tachi_h : I'll never understand how you can be all friends girls

↳ Yosanurgirl : because we're smarter and actually enjoy the company of peoples

↳ Tachi_h : bullshit

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : Talk to her like that again, c'mon I dare you

↳ Tachi_h : OH I REALIZED I forgot something at home

↳ Higucci : Yeah run for it

Ranthebestpo : @.p0e I bet 16000 yen that by the end of the weak, we'll have a big event with the Port Mafia

↳ p0e : bet

<3 liked by Ranthebestpo, Akutagawa and 1040 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : I still think reserving an entire cinema is excessive

Yosanurgirl : No it wasn't excessive AT ALL, you saw how none of them can behave

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : They were SO annoying

↳ Higucci : I'm glad we had a whole part of the room for ourselves

↳ Gintonic : If we didn't I would have murdered them before the end of the movie

↳ OzuKoy : And I would have joined

↳ Kyô_ka : It was nice seeing you again

↳ The_Hirotsu : Thank you for letting me sit with you

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : No problem papi, you're far from being the worst one

↳ Chu_uya : SO HE WAS ALLOWED AND NOT ME ??

↳ Gintonic : you talk allllll of the time, I would have knocked you out

Chu_uya : Dazai I swear you're the worst

↳ Daze_i : ?????? you had all the popcorn

↳ Chu_uya :Because I PAID for it

↳ Daze_i : sharing is caring

↳ Chu_uya : The thing is, I DO NOT care about you

↳ Daze_i : you care SO MUCH otherwise you wouldn't have gave it to me

↳ Chu_uya : I gave it to you so you'll stop being so clingy

↳ Daze_i : believe what makes you happy

Atsushiii : Aku I'm never sitting next to you ever again

↳ Akutagawa : I'M THE ONE who will never sit next to you

↳ Atsushiii : What makes you think you had the right to drink MY Ice-Tea ??

↳ Akutagawa : I thought it was mine

↳ Atsushiii : You took water

↳ Akutagawa : The water was disgusting

↳ Atsushiii : 🙄

Ranthebestpo : Poe give me my 16000 yen

↳ p0e : I should have known better

↳ Ranthebestpo : 100% yes

FukuZAWA : Thank you Kunikida for the reservation

↳ M_Mori : Yes thank you boy

↳ KunikIDA : It was nothing

Tachi_h : Verlaine you never do that again

↳ Paupol : What ?

↳ Tachi_h : sleeping.

↳ Paupol : What's wrong with sleeping ?

↳ Tachi_h : YOU SNORE SO LOUD IT'S ATROCIOUS

↳ Paupol : my bad

<3 liked by Gintonic, Higucci and 492 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : Hirotsu is a tired nanny

Gintonic : GIRL WHATS THAT CAPTION

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : pure truth

↳ Gintonic : yeah can't say you're wrong

Chu_uya : @.Tachi_h you put sand in my hair

↳ Tachi_h : Gin pushed me

↳ Gintonic : Aku pushed me

↳ Akutagawa : No I didn't

↳ Chu_uya : I don't care who started the dominos, you'll pay for my shampoo

↳ Tachi_h : NEVER YOURS IS TOO EXPENSIVE

↳ Chu_uya : Yes.

↳ The_Hirotsu : Children stop fighting

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : When I say he's a tired nanny

↳ The_Hirotsu : Boss I need vacations

↳ M_Mori : Take them

↳ Gintonic : NO NO HIROTSU STAY BOSS WILL MAKE US WORK

↳ M_Mori : Because normally you don't work ?

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : We work

↳ Chu_uya : Day and night

↳ Tachi_h : even during luch

↳ Gintonic : 24/24 7/7

↳ Higucci : We never sleep

↳ Paupol : Work is what we live for

↳ OzuKoy : We dedicate our life to the Mafia

↳ Akutagawa : Liars

↳ Gintonic : AKU REALLY ?????

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : YOU BASTARD, not you Gin

↳ Tachi_h : MAN SHUT THE FUCK UP

M_Mori : Well, Hirotsu I think we'll be planning those vacations together

↳ The_Hirotsu : Dear Lord, what did I do to deserve this

Hey! Hope you liked it ? I just loved doing it but including all of the characters can be SO complicated

with love <3

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄

Yandere Dick Grayson x GN Reader

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓: This AU came to me in a dream. The best honor you can bestow on a character is a yandere Ghostface fic, so I obviously had to give one to my man.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒: yandere content, Ghostface Dick Grayson, stalking, blood, stab wounds, reader is implied to be a college student, reader likes horror movie trivia, Dick’s kinda freaky in this, OOC Dick (since he’s obviously not a serial killer in canon), the writer’s poorly disguised blood kink (nothing NSFT-worthy, but it’s definitely there).

… Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring…

… Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring…

Honestly, the phone ringing from the kitchen might’ve been the best jumpscare of the night. At least it was unexpected, unlike the tactics of this low budget slasher film you were watching (what was it called again? Agh, you’d have to look at the channel menu, and you lost the remote long ago). With a small sigh, you pulled yourself out of the couch and stretched your arms outwards, reveling in the satisfying pops elicited from your shoulders.

… Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring…

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled. “I’m coming.”

The phone was in the middle of a fourth ring when you finally reached the kitchen. Picking it up with a loose arm, you punched in the answer button and brought it up to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey there, sweetheart.”

An unfamiliar voice greeted you on the other end. It was low and velvety, with the slightest gravelly texture around the edges that made the back of your neck feel prickly. Your brows furrowed at their teasingly flirty tone, not liking where this could be going. “And who is this?”

“You tell me,” replied the unknown caller.

“Sorry, got no idea.” You leaned against the kitchen counter, facing the living room so you could at least half-tune into movie still. “So… can I help you with anything, or…?”

“What’s your name?”

Okay. Whoever this guy was, he was seriously starting to creep you out and piss you off. “Dunno, you tell me,” you mockingly answered. “How did you get this number?”

“No need to be so rude,” the voice cooed at you. “I just wanna talk, is all.”

“Not very fond of talking to strangers,” you distastefully mumbled.

“You must not make a lot of friends, then.”

“Well,” a puff of air left your lips, “I manage.”

“Sure doesn’t look like it.”

… Huh?

Vocal chords feeling suddenly dry, you thickly swallowed. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Come on now, gorgeous.” There was a chuckle before the caller continued. “It’s a Friday night. Shouldn’t you be out with friends instead of watching old scary movies all by yourself?”

Your blood turned ice cold.

What the fuck. What the actual fuck. Who the hell is this weirdo, not only giving you a random call, but also spying on you? Was this some sort of prank from that dumbass fraternity down the street? Some sort of tradition they have to call up new residents in the townhouses and try to scare them shitless? But if that’s the case, how the hell did they get your number?

Another chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts. “Don’t look so tense, love. I only wanna talk, remember?”

“Talk,” you flatly echoed, turning around slowly to face the kitchen window. While you didn’t see anyone out there from where you were standing, it was too dark to know for sure. “About what?”

There was a long pause. All you could hear for several seconds was your quickening heartbeat and over-acted screams from the TV. It lasted for so long, wondered if your trembling fingers somehow accidentally hit the hang-up button.

Finally, the unknown caller spoke up again.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

Your brows furrowed at the question. Why the fuck did he want to know that?

“Can’t say I have a favorite,” you shakily answered.

“Everyone’s got a favorite,” reasoned the caller. “Even I have one.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes darted between the window and the backdoor, praying you remembered to lock both of them. “What’s yours, then?”

“Guess.”

“… Friday the 13th?”

“Nope.”

“John Carpenter’s Halloween?”

“Guess again.”

“Nightmare on Elm Street?”

“You’re really bad at this.”

Either your eyes were playing tricks on you, or a shadowy figure was emerging from behind the bushes. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you began to slowly back out of the kitchen. “Well… then I give up. Tell me.”

“Nuh-huh, sweetheart. The game doesn’t work like that. And besides…”

You were now at the threshold in between the kitchen and the living room. “Yeah?”

“Three strikes and you’re out.”

A click, then a low beep; the call was dead.

Just like you’ll probably be if you stick around.

While you weren’t exactly sure if “out” meant he was going to kill you, you sure as hell didn’t want to find out. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that only murderers made ominous quips like that. So, dropping your phone to the ground and spinning on your heals, you made a b-line towards the front door and fiddled with the lock. If he could see you from the kitchen, then that obviously meant he was out back; he’d have to circle around the entire line of townhouses if he wants to catch you in the front. That would give you enough time to start banging on doors, and at least someone would have to let you in, right?

As soon as you threw the door open, however, it became shockingly apparent that you made the wrong decision.

Looming in the doorframe was a broad figure in black robes. He wore a porcelain white mask with exaggerated mouth and drooping eyes, reminding you for a split second of some sort of Scooby-Doo monster. The only difference between one of those and this fucker, however, was the rather sharp-looking knife he were twirling in their gloved hand.

He gave you a tiny wave with his free hand.

You began to book it back into the kitchen.

Before you could even clear the living room, however, a sharp pain exploded in the back of your shoulder, causing you to cry out as your knees buckled. You were sent careening towards the ground as something ripped out of your skin; his knife, you realized with complete and interr horror. With grunts of agony, you struggled to push yourself off of the linoleum floor in hopes to get back to your feet.

An impressed whistle pierced the air. “Took that like a champ, sweetheart. So proud of ya.”

You finally managed to get yourself to a semi-crouched position, only for a hand to grab at your wounded shoulder and shove you down. The shout that was ripped from your chest was cut off as your jaw harshly slammed against the linoleum floor. Metallic blood flooded your mouth as your teeth caught your tongue in the impact, only adding to the cacophony of pain. There was still a firm hand on your shoulder, which squeezed tighter so he could roll you over and face him.

“You look so pretty when you’re terrified,” your attacker cooed, his blood-splattered mask only inches away from your face. He lowered himself to straddle your hips, his body weight pinning you against the floor. “Way better up close.”

“Please,” you pathetically pleaded, some of your bloody spit dribbling down your chin. “Please…!! Please, just let me go!!”

A low rumble came from him — a weird mix between a laugh and a groan — as he held the knife up against your neck. The blade was still warm, your own dark blood staining your skin. “Yeah, go on... beg for your life, love.”

God, why was this happening to you?! All you wanted to do was watch some cheap slasher movie and take it easy for the night, and now you’re one slice away from certain death?? Was this seriously gonna be how you go out; murdered in your own living room with old reruns playing on the TV? A choked sob left your lips at the pitiful thought.

“Please don’t kill me,” you whimpered, feeling the edge of the knife catch your skin as your throat bobbed from swallowing. “Please…”

“Good job, gorgeous,” he condescendingly praised. “Just like that. Don’t you know how hot you look right now?”

Christ… this guy was fucking disgusting. The way he seemed so into this made your skin crawl. His free hand came up to caress your cheek, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind with it. Swiping his thumb across your lower lip, he hooked his index finger under your chin and tilted your head upwards. It took you a few moments to register that the weight of the knife’s blade was removed from your neck, now being held gently against your cheek as he let out a hum.

“You’re quite the catch,” he mused, pressing the blade harder against your cheek to draw blood. You couldn’t help but sharply inhale at the stinging sensation.

“Why are you…” a noise of pain interrupted your sentence as he slowly slid the knife down to your jawline, “doing this..?!”

He didn’t seem to care for your question. Instead, he released your chin from his leather hand, bringing it up to his mask and stroking the elongated jaw. It was as if he was pondering something, his fingers smearing your speckled blood downwards until he got to the tip of his mask’s chin. Then, in a slow, deliberate movement, he began to tug the mask upwards to reveal a crooked smirk. Your stomach dropped entirely when you realized he was confident enough about this to let you see part of his face; he really was going for the kill.

“I’d like to think this thrill is a lot better than the cheap scares in movies,” he teased, bringing the knife back to your throat and leaning closer to your face. You could feel his hot breath against the cut on your cheek as he finished with, “and I think you’d agree.”

Your shoulders jolted at the sudden wetness against the side of your face, and it dawned upon you that the fucker was licking you. His tongue ran up your shallow gash, clearing away whatever amount of blood that bubbled from it. You felt your face crinkle up in disgust as he continued to lap at it, like he was a little kid licking an ice cream cone (you could even hear him click his tongue against the roof of his mouth and swallow; this fucking psycho was actually consuming your blood).

Once he seemed satisfied, he pulled away a few inches to run his red-stained tongue over his lips. “You know… my favorite scary movie is actually Dracula. I was always into the classics.”

“Dracula,” you shakily repeated, feeling cold sweat collect on the back of your neck. “1930s? Tod Browning?”

He let out a hum of approval. “Wow. You seem to know your stuff, sweetheart! Didn’t realize you were that into the genre.”

“I… I guess…”

“Yeah?” The leather of his gloves creaked as he clenched the hilt of the knife tighter. “Isn’t this perfect for you, then? Getting to live out the real deal? Lot’s of horror movie junkies out there would absolutely kill to be in your position right now.”

Your limbs felt numb, petrified to the floor with pure terror. “Never thought I’d s-star in one…!”

“What a shame,” he tutted. “You’re a perfect fit for the victim role.”

The blade began to dig deeper into the meat of your neck.

This was it. This is how you were going to die. You could barely hear the resolution of the movie in the background over your palpitating heart as the blade dug deeper into the meat of your neck. With any luck, he’d make this a quick one, putting you out of your misery so you didn’t have to suffer through a slow, painful death. If he wasn’t that nice, however, your vision was already spotty from blood loss, so there was at least the possibility of you passing out before it got too agonizing.

But then, just as you could feel your own blood dribbling down your collarbone, the pressure was alleviated.

“Come to think of it, though…” he pulled the mask back down his face, giving it a little jostle to make sure it was correctly oriented. “Killing you off so soon would be disappointing.”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I want to see you in the sequel.”

Without another word, he slowly pushed himself off of you to stand up. You took this as the perfect opportunity to desperately crawl away, wide and careful eyes still trained on him in case he lunged at you again. Fortunately, it seemed as though he truly was done for the night, taking a few steps back from you as he twirled the knife in his one hand. With the other, he gave a tiny wave, and practically skipped out the front door, even having the courtesy to slam it behind him.

He just spared your life.

You could practically feel yourself melting into the cracks of the linoleum floor. Holy shit, he just spared your life. After all of that — finding your number, calling you outside of your house, stabbing you, and having the perfect opportunity to finish you off — he decided to spare your life. What the fuck just happened.

Well, it’s not like you had time to deliberate on that; you were kinda still bleeding out right now. He did stab you, after all.

So, rolling yourself over on all fours, you clutched the bloody wound on the back of your shoulder and began to crawl towards the kitchen as the ending credits rolled on your shitty slasher film.

So… as it turns out, the phone ringing was not the best jumpscare of the night.

[jockons]

I know the fandom tends to be a rivalry between these two for Markus and (I personally don't find either ship annoying, but I'm not really a fan of this, I'd rather keep North and Simon as friends without dragging them into a romance)

but I love them both and they are some of my favorite characters in Detroit and I wish there were more interactions between the two of them, we often see them get along, I would even say more than Josh and Simon (Time To Decide, Spare Parts in not wanting to take John with them, if North is the Leader Simon agrees with her in storming the camps)

It is true that North suggested killing Simon at Stratford Tower, but it was more for the danger of them finding Jericho through his memory (Which can actually happen since Connor can trick Simon and find Jericho) than wanting to kill him, and when the roles are reversed and it is Simon who asks Markus to let North go in Crossroads, later if Markus saves her and asks her about her wound, in reality North will be she agrees with Simon that Markus shouldn't have risked his life to save her, so she doesn't hold a grudge, but rather is consistent about it and was okay with her death

"You have to think of our people first, nothing else matters" if Markus/Connor die, Simon will take North away and jump with her, if North is the Leader and Connor is alive, North will wait for Connor and then Simon to jump and will jump last (despite the soldiers chasing them)

(I didn't find any clips with Simon alive, but if he is alive, then North will wait for him too before jumping) In addition to more interactions, I would also like North to be able to apologize to Simon if he returns after the events of Stratford, with Simon being able to forgive her and understanding why she wanted to do so.

^ Imagine this interaction, but instead of Markus there would be North, it would be an interesting scene, maybe hugging would be too much, but at least a dialogue between the two and with North apologizing and Simon forgiving her but in general I would like to have more interaction with just the Jericrew, because they seem to revolve too much around Markus and seem to forget that they exist with each other, until Josh and North remember that they exist with each other to do the confrontation scene on Markus' shoulders "Good Angel" and "Bad Devil" of the narrative, there are few moments when they are truly a team, when they connect with each other rather than being a dysfunctional team also Josh and Simon, Josh is concerned about Simon's condition if he gets shot in Stratford and helps him get to the entrance, we can also see that Josh supposedly gave a University of Detroit t-shirt to Simon

As for his interactions with North, Josh will blame Markus for provoking the humans and will ask North out loud how long it will take for the humans to find out about Jericho because of Markus? but when North seems to be hurt by such statements

It sounds like Josh actually regretted venting about the situation to North about Markus that way, maybe even acknowledging that North cared about Markus?

You have every right to tell me that's just my headcanon, though. Josh will get North out of trouble by force if Markus is killed in the Freedom March.

and if Markus lets North die at Crossroads, he will lose a lot of his ties. Could this suggest that Josh cares deeply for North despite their arguments? If Markus shoots Simon, he will lose some relationship with Josh, but not in the level where Markus lets North die at Crossroads

for the rest Simon and North both will defend Markus' sacrifice from Josh if Markus dies both can save Markus' ass multiple times throughout the story and both can be badass to escape from the fearsome deviant hunter Connor in Crossroads (Connor will catch them anyway, but that's another story) I can see a potential friendship between these two, it would have been nice if, when choosing not to shoot Simon, North instead of Markus gave her gun to Simon to defend himself, but I guess Cage was actively trying to make the player hate North, lol.

The Jericrew could have been beautiful characters, explored and appreciated more by the fandom, unfortunately it didn't go that way, Cage treated the Jericrew badly. PS: I sorry for my english, i know it's horrible.

[feyre-darling92]

Nights like these

Ghost x reader

Gues who’s back. Back again. Yep, I am not dead but I have died from studying. Anyways, here’s a little one shot with our favorite husband, Ghost.

Synopsis: It’s these nights that hunt Ghost the most. He never expected you to change that.

Word Count: 1.213

Also this is not proofread

It was nights like these where memories would return. They found home in the dead silence, the darkness. They became the darkness. And whoever was dealing with the demons... it was nights like these he hated.

Ghost hated these nights. These nights when anything seemed meaningless. When the darkness was so thick you wished for it to shallow you. When your own mind betrayed you.

He spent them alone. What else could he do? It was late at night, too late for anyone to even think to stay wake, too late for anyone to actually care. Only company the moonlight. The comforting weight of his mask and the -even though he wouldn’t admit it- the snores of the soldiers. This meant they were alive, it meant he had done something good.

And then you appeared.

A night like these, when the world seemed too much, when he was alone at the common room, gazing at the stars through the big window, trying to find solace that’s when he heard footsteps.

The insticts kicked in faster than logic, gun drawned and pointed at you.

“The fuck you’re doing here” He growled. He was not Simon now, no. He was Ghost back again.

“Just taking a walk” you stated simply as he lowered his gun and quietly put it back on its holster. You slowly and quietly walked to the armchair across him.

“A walk?” he scoffed, eyes coldly watching your every movement. You seemed... tired, he noticed.

Why did he notice? He usually didn’t care.

“It’s too damn late to even consider being awake” he added in his usual cold and serious tone.

“What are you doing up that late then, Ghost?” You raised an eyebrow as you spoke quietly.

He had noticed this trait of yours the moment you stepped in the task force. Always speaking your mind, the cold truth, the annoying comment you couldn’t hold back. Even talking back. Oh, how angry and annoyed he got when you spoke that way to him. You of course didn’t back up, always ending up in a fight.

“What are you doing up that late, Weasel?”

“Ah, you must be really annoyed to call me by my code name. I understand, I can leav-”

“Stay”

One word. Stay. One simple word that meant too much to him. You understood.

“A penny for a thought?” You asked softly. You knew that his behavior right now showed... vulnerability. The most Ghost could show.

He finally relaxed around you, his eyes turning to the night sky. “Why are you up so late, y/n?” he asked instead but instead of his usual stern and serious tone there was something else. Something you couldn’t understand.

“Just... overthinking, I guess”

All he did was nod and let you stay with him. And you did.

Sitting in silence for some time was more comforting that you had expect it. You turned to him and observed his eyes, the only think you could see behind the mask. The only thing you had learned to study.

“You have beautiful eyes, Simon” You spoke quietly, speaking your mind without filtering.

You had called him Simon. Not Ghost

He chuckled slightly and took a cigar out of his pocket, lighting it up and lifting his mask enough so you could see his mouth.

He hadn’t done that before.

“How did that thought even cross you mind?” He took a long drag out of his cigar and slowly exhaled the smoke.

“Would you believe me if I said I don’t know?”

“No”

“Alright” you tried to supress a smile. “But just to know your eyes can show me your expression. I can see when you’re grinning like an idiot and when you laugh silently”

“You’re a creep” he stated half-joking

“Says you” you chuckled looking at him from the corner of your eyes. He grinned, “Touche”

“So, what are you doing here that late?” he took another drag, sighing.

“Escaping my problems. You?” You ask quietly, “Let me guess, you are actually trying to become a ghost” You teased, “Is that it? Shall I call you ghostie?” I grinned.

“Fuck off” he rolled his eyes but he spoke in a playful tone. “Maybe the same” he added quietly, avoiding to look at you.

“You are young” you whispered more to yourself, but he heard.

“Aren’t you a smartass. What did you expect me to be? 56?”

“No, I just thought you were older”

“And? Now that you learned what changes?” he asked a little seriously. He wanted to know.

“Nothing. Why would you care if something changed, anyways?”

“Nothing, forget it” he said dismissively. “So, you will stay here, I guess” he finished his cigarette and threw it away. You couldn’t understand the tone of his voice now, though.

“Is there a problem with that?” you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. You understood. He wanted you, your company right now.

You did something you would have never imagined you could do before. You took your chair and moved it so you now sat next to Simon, shoulders barely touching.

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

He would never admit it but your gesture relaxed him. Gave him comfort.

After an hour or so you felt tired, sleepy but too stubborn to return to bed. So you did the first thing that crossed you mind, without second thought. You rested your head against his shoulder.

Ghost flinched at the sudden weight on his shoulder but after glancing at you he calmed down a little. He would allow it for now, he lied to himself. Not because he didn’t like it but beause he liked it too much.

And after another hour he found himself at the very same position, too sleepy and stubborn to move. He blamed his stubborness of course and not his refusal to wake you up. And in no time he found himself falling asleep, his head resting against yours.

He could let his guard down for one time. For you. Because of you.

Of course he didn’t admit anything when Price and Soap found them like that the next morning. Not when Price shook his shoulder gently, to wake him up, not when he very carefully moved so you wouldn’t wake up and definitely not when Soap teased him all morning.

You woke up much later, with the seat next to you empty. You brushed it off, continuing your day when at the afternoon you met him with Soap.

“I have a job to do, see you later lass” Soap made a poor excuse and left, leaving you alone with him.

“About yesterday-” you started but he cut you off, “There isn’t much to talk about yesterday” he said with his usual cold and serious demeanor.

“Of course” You nodded in understanding, “See you around, Lieutenant?” You asked casually, not showing any feeling.

Had he really not felt anything yesterday? You wondered but before you could leave he stopped you with a firm but gentle touch.

“Thank you” he choked out, looking into your eyes.

You nodded, a faint smile in your lips, “See you tonight, then?”

He rolled his eyes, “Is this a date or something?”he said and his voice betrayed a playful tone.

“Maybe” you teased and he chuckled softly.

“See you tonight”

[forthechubbies]

Dirty Hands// Cho Gue Sung Imagine 🔞 Ex! Chubby Reader ♡

How did you get here? You hate sports...You hate exercise in general-you, like your thickness, and that's that's. Moving away from your self-love for a second, If memory serves me right, You were dragged here by you're fit friend, Sumi.

Speaking of, she's looking at you in disappointment right now. Time to tune back in-

Sumi clicked her tongue, obviously annoyed by your space-out expression. "Are you high or something? Why are you not cheering or at least stand up when I do." One might say you're being selfish, but you refused to take fake interest in this stupid sport (no offense just for the story).

Your silent protest stuck out like a sore thumb...and your well hot in his eyes.

He admired your boredom and actually found it rather amusing. You could sit still if your life depended on it; He watches you bunch up your dress just to ensure you didn't step in anything.

Possibly food or not...You never know with hundred year old bleachers.

She's so snobby. He thought with a slightly playful grin. I guess that is my fault.

Sumi noticed the flower player ogling her friend; she gasped, alerting you in the process. " Shit, Do you think he likes you? Soccer player, sugar daddy?"

"As if, " You scoffed. " I can smell him from here."

Sumi beamed. " If you don't want him. Can I have him, please?"

.....

Your plans for today didn't involve waiting thirty minutes for Sumi, who decided to run to the bathroom at the last second, leaving you alone to stay put in the entrance tunnel-

"This tunnel is disgusting.." You cleared your throat in an attempt not the dry heave at the used condom flung aside like a snot rag. "I'm gonna died here."

" You're so dramatic." A man's voice nagged behind your head.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. " And you're so domestic, Watching me like a little puppy." You turned towards your ex-husband.

Gurl, Did I forget to tell you he was your hot ex-husband who blew his chances with you after a sexual/emotionally draining physical altercation between the two of you took place in public?! Oops! The tea is hot today.

What a mighty mouse you are, mouthing off to a man who has you, trump, in literally everything strength, speed, you name it.

You step back, not favoriting his sweaty smell. "You kinda smell like a wet dog -" You fanned yourself. " It suits you."

"If I'm a dog then you must be a bitch in heat for coming to my game-"Gue Sung exclaimed, nudging her forehead back with his finger.

She retaliated by smacking his heavy hand out of her face. " If you ever put your filthy fingers near me again-And, for your information, You pompous little-your not the only player on your team!" She roared in his face, stretching her heels to their maximum limit due to the size difference.

The cheeky bastard met your face halfway, tapping the tip of her nose with his; his hazel eyes gazed into hers. "Why else would you be watching for? " He was even daring enough to take two steps forward to feel you on him. "You hate sports, and you think men are stupid-"

"Not all of them, but I'm truly doubtful when it comes to you-." Yn rudely interrupted, sassing him with her eyes.

The joke was harmless, to say the least, yet a large hand shot up to her neck, gripping it into a tight squeeze between his large fingers.

She gasped but wasn't surprised; this wasn't the first time Gue Sung had let his temper control his actions.

Gue Sung clicks his tongue. "Wah unbelievable, that mouth of yours." He stared at your beautifully painted lips, weighing his next decision; he said, "Ah, Fuck it." before completely dominating your lips.

"Mmm!" You yanked at his hair; pulling away from his lips just to be brought back in. "Mmph! Im gon-mm gonna kill you."

You fought well, but god, he's ripped-Honesty, you didn't stand a chance in the first place.

Gue sung kept you flushed against his chest so tight your plump breasts pushed up to escape his squeeze.

[simplyclary]

A Spin on a Famous Fantasy Ballad

(Book cover edit by yours truly)

Chapter 1

Once upon a time, there was a young peasant boy who lives in the suburbs of the kingdom of Velaria. He's not your ordinary peasant boy, because instead of doing everything expected of him, he is often found daydreaming in the back porch of his small house surrounded by the tallest stacks of books.

Being the youngest of three, he can often slip away unnoticed, which often annoys his eldest brother. His elder sister, on the other hand, is the one who often spoils him with books from their father's library.

Much like every other child who's obsessed with books, he has his personal favorite book and that is the story of Robin Hood, an archer who is considered to be a bandit but really has good intentions. This peasant boy often fantasizes that he is Maid Marian just to be with Robin Hood. That's his one wish to every shooting star, that one day, there will be an archer that's as handsome as Robin Hood who will sweep him off his feet and whisk him away from the land he's born into.

Little did he know that his wish was about to come true...

Chapter 2

In the neighboring kingdom of Celestria, a rogue archer is on the hunt for his next kill. This archer always wore a black outfit that fits his body so well that he's as magnificent as the night. Of all the animals that he hunts, foxes are his favorite. There's just something about their elusiveness that gets the archer excited, and he loves the thrill of it.

Foxes are hard to catch and so the archer rode for days until he reached the gates of Velaria. To his excitement, foxes are not scarce in Velaria but you have to be fast to catch them. Whenever he's not fast enough to catch his prey, he gets pissed but he simply moves on and wishes that he'll catch a fox soon enough.

However, his next catch will not be what he's expecting...

Chapter 3

The peasant boy was being his usual self, reading his favorite book in the town when he heard a horse's neigh from somewhere in his village and to his surprise, the most handsome archer was on top of it. The peasant boy's eyes grew wide at the sight of the handsome archer. The archer gave the peasant boy a one-over and decided he was a worthy prey.

The peasant boy tried to plead to the archer to not take him away from his family, but the archer paid no heed to the crying boy. When the peasant boy won't stop crying, the archer got so mad that he decided he was going to kill the peasant boy right then and there. The archer took an arrow from his quiver, loaded it into his bow and pulled back the string. He was ready to kill the peasant boy, but he couldn't find it in his heart to do so.

The peasant boy then offered a bargain to the archer: spare his life and they'll go back to their respective kingdoms and never speak to each other again. The archer agreed to said bargain after some consideration.

Committing to this bargain is about to be harder than they thought.

Chapter 4

The archer and the peasant boy both regretted that decision the moment they made it. They couldn't resist thinking of one another during the depths of the night. They both managed to see each other once again after a fortnight and then and there, they sealed their story with a kiss.

Spending time together was a lesson for both the peasant boy and the archer. The peasant boy now knew archery and the archer no longer killed foxes after learning that foxes were the peasant boy's favorite animal.

They both had a good life and the peasant boy is happier than he's ever been because his one wish was now answered with the appearance of his dashing archer.

-------------------------

Author Notes:

This is my first dip into writing a story, this could've been longer but I only had enough time for a short version but if time allows, I'll write a longer version with dialogue and everything.

Thank you for reading until the end if you did. This was a fun little piece to write and I enjoyed writing it.

Just guess below who you think is the archer and who is the fox? Pretty obvious if you know the characters I based this little story from.

[museywrites]

Xiantober 2023 - Day 5: InnKeeper!Xian

Word Count: 1,149 Pairing: Wangxian Tags: InnKeeper Wei Ying, Prince Lan Zhan, meet-cute, flirty Lan Zhan

A soft sigh left Wei Ying's lips as he cleaned down the bar for the fiftieth time that night. 

Normally, Suibian Inn and Tavern was loaded with patrons, bustling with traveling merchants, and crowded with gossiping travelers. It was what he loved the most about running the place. He loved the hustle and bustle, the steady flow of rumors, gossip, and cash.

But for the past three days, the whole town had virtually deserted, and there was no chance of anyone coming through for a few more days at least.

Apparently, some big shot prince was having a grand party to find a bride. Pah! Who needs a party to find a bride?! The whole continent was pretty much invited, commoners included, so everyone hightailed it for a chance at the crown. 

Wei Ying had no desire to go.

So when the bell rang as the door was pushed open, Wei Ying nearly let out a surprised scream. Thankfully, he refrained, maintaining what little dignity he had.  

He did jump though, but no one was witness to see it, so it never happened.

Silver eyes watched as the cloaked figure made their way into the tavern. "Welcome to Suibian Inn and Tavern. You're quite a ways away from the festivities, yeah? I don't think you'll make it." 

"Oh, no... I'm trying to avoid them." The stranger admitted, removing his hood.

The glass in Wei Ying's hands hit the ground with a violent sound, shattering into hundreds of pieces and causing both to jump. 

"Ah, shit, that was my favorite glass.. hng, damn butterfingers." He scoffed, moving to grab the broom.

Who knew seeing someone so stunning would cause such a problem? He had not been prepared for such beauty!! 

"Avoiding the ball, huh? That's odd. Didn't everyone wanna go?"

"You're here." 

"I have a business to run." He countered. "Besides. The prince is looking for a bride."

He hummed. "Not some bar keep." 

"Was the party not extended to everyone?" 

"Oh, it was, but let's be real. What prince is gonna pick a  peasant. It's all just a formality. So I'm fine staying here. Besides! I'm pretty sure I'm the only Inn open for miles."

"Mm, I've passed several, they are all closed."

Wei Ying grinned and finished cleaning up the glass. "So tell me, gorgeous, what can I get for you? An ale? A hot meal? A room? Maybe me?" He winked. 

"Sounds like a rare house special. How much for all four?" He countered.

For a moment, the innkeeper was stunned. No one ever took his flirting seriously!!! And for someone to be /this/ good looking?!

Wei Ying eyed him suspiciously. "You're not some crazy murderer, yeah? That why you're avoiding the capital?"

Surprise colored the man's face before he huffed a soft laugh. "No, not at all, I assure you."

"Oh, assure me, do you?" He grinned. "Alright. Three silvers and you can have a drink, a room, and a meal~ that fourth option you gotta work a little harder for. Can't just be cute."

"You think I'm cute?" The man questioned, raising a brow with the faintest hint of a smirk and Wei Ying felt his knees go weak.  

He sputtered wildly and flicked his rag in the attractive patron's direction. "Aren't you cheeky~?"

He turned and grabbed a wooden pint mug, but before he could fill it, the man cleared his throat a little. "On second hand.... can I just have some water?" 

Wei Ying popped his hip and cocked a brow. "What? Why water? I've got all the best alcohols in the land!" He grinned.

"I even have the best of the best, emperor's smile~ all the way from the capital." 

"I... do not handle alcohol well." 

Wei Ying blinked at him a few dozen times before he threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, you're cute! Alright. I'll be nice. Water it is."

"I would rather remember my night if I get to spend it chatting with someone so lovely." 

Once more, Wei Ying was left sputtering as he slammed the mug of water down and busied himself working. "Alright, charmer, what'll you have to eat?"

"I am guessing you are not on the menu?"

Wei Ying all but tripped over his feet and looked at him with a flushed face. "I... you.... I walked into that." He cleared his throat and gestured to the menu. "So... what's your name, charmer?"

"You can call me A-Zhan.""

"Well, A-Zhan~ you can call me Wei Ying. You lemme know what you'd like to eat and I'll whip it up."

He nodded and did just that.

Wei Ying disappeared into the back to prep the meal and when he realized he was getting no conversation out of the other while he ate, so he busied himself with cleaning the already spotless tavern.

After, the two found themselves sitting side by side, Wei Ying telling A-Zhan all about the beautiful places he had been to in the kingdom before he settled here with his tavern.

"Sounds like you're quite the adventurer."

"Perhaps! But what about you?"

"I do not get out much, sadly. Though... I am forever grateful I decided to come here tonight~"

Wei Ying cleared his throat before he stood and made his way to the front door. He locked up and slipped over to a board behind the bar and grabbed a metal key.

A-Zhan watched him curiously, but when Wei Ying moved to the steps and tipped his head, he followed eagerly.

The pair made it to the bedroom and Wei Ying barely had time to unlock the door before he was pressed to the smooth wood.

The sound of the door slamming shut was certainly not the last sound heard echoing through the quiet inn that night.

The next morning, the pair lay in one another's arms, sharing lazy kisses as Wei Ying snuggled up to the perfectly sculpted chest.

"So, A-Zhan..."

"Mn?"

"How are you going to explain to the kingdom that you ditched your own bridal ball~?"

His eyes widened in disbelief. "Wh-what? How did you--"

Wei Ying laughed, his eyes shimmering in delight. "Everyone knows our Prince's name is Lan Zhan,

and your cloak has the royal insignia on it."

The prince's ears went red and he frowned. "I apologize, I did not mean to deceive you--"

"Hush." Wei Ying kissed him sweetly. "I'm not mad, but I am curious how you're gonna get out of trouble for this~"

"I will simply tell them I was with my bride all night~" He grinned lightly, rolling so he was on top of Wei Ying

once more.

The room quickly filled with giggles and soon after, moans as the prince and the innkeeper enjoyed each other's company.

When wedding bells chimed no more than four months later, the kingdom was in shock to see the chatty innkeeper at his side~

[z0mbride]

ALSO I have to rant about a proselytizing nurse at work today

TO CLARIFY THIS CONVERSATION STARTED BECAUSE we were talking about knitting and crochet and I said one of my favorite memories as a kid was getting a handmade hat every year from the old ladies at church and he asked why I didn’t go to church anymore and wouldn’t accept my answer that emotionally, church has always been the equivalent for me of a book club or scrabble. Like yeah I’d love to go and I’d love to work on this together but im not emotionally invested in anything other than intellectual bonding and social connection.

But what really frustrates me is like people NOT getting it and refusing to even try but they want me to get them and I need to be just like them but they won’t even acknowledge my feelings on something.

Like this nurse was 45 and hounding me about why I didn’t go to church in front of a bunch of other staff, insistent that I must have a deeper meaning than just being indifferent to it, and it made EVERYONE uncomfortable. He has had this issue before too. And im trying to be nice and being like “yknow it’s really not due to anything other than. I’m like not worried about it man”

And it just blows my mind how that response infuriates people trying to convert you even more than a reason of hatred could. Like no, I don’t have a problem with it actually. I just really don’t care. I have no interest right now in finding out if there’s a larger being. I’m just not even worried about it. I’m spiritual in my own way but as of right now, it’s not revolved around a greater being and im perfectly fine with that.

And it’s not that im disinterested in religion, like i love to study it and talk about it and learn from different perspectives, but right now I am currently so unattached from the idea of even CARING if there’s a greater being or an afterlife. I was like yeah tbh I think that Jesus, regardless of whether or not he was real or a messiah, is a great role model when you analyze him. I really admire what he did in the book, props to him! I can see why people follow in his lead.

And he asked me if I would read the gospels with him and I was like yknow what I actually would love to talk about the philosophy with you and he’s like “no like I mean you should pray before and read a chapter every day and open your heart to God” and it was just so weird to me because I feel like he’s not getting it.

I’ve done it before (and to put it how I did to another staff member: “I tried calling but nobody ever answers, I swear”), it just doesn’t happen for me! And it’s not that I don’t believe in anything, in all honesty it makes sense to me that there’s something bigger, but I just am not worried about it, and this man could not process the thought that I am just simply unbothered. If it happens it happens.

I was talking about it to my fiance and I think that tbh this non-attachment to like reveling over this idea actually makes me a better person than if me (only myself personally) was dedicated to a single faith. I’m really empathetic with people of every faith and will talk about any religious text and am a lot more well-versed in a variety of faiths than most people think, and so being unbiased about it (other than I find abrahamic adjacent humor more funny because it’s applicable to the culture I live in) kind of has shaped me to be who I am.

Like I mean yeah probably there is some greater being but like so???? And not in a pessimistic way. I’m just okay about it.im okay with there being one and with there not being one but unless it became a compelling issue in my life, im not out here pursuing greater answers right now. Like I have acknowledged this fact but also acknowledged that im not concerned with learning more about it rn. If it reveals itself to me then okay, but you’re not understanding my “if it happens it happens” or “im living my life like water” approach by trying to force it down my throat. Like just go with the flow man ❤️

idk I guess my insanely bland view on it really irked this man because he was convinced he was going to convert me. Like yeah I will earnestly try what you said but I wish you weren’t so like freaky and pushy about it because I guarantee that if I wasn’t interested in this stuff like I was, you would’ve scared me even further away. If I am convinced by this process, then that’s all the better to me and im sure it will enrich my life in one way or another, but also stop being weird to people. Ultimately I think it’s just a difference in values. I’m not concerned about my afterlife because and not out of a greater worry like bills or anything, I just never have been. I’ve always been more concerned about being a well rounded and compassionate person with a commitment to serving other people and frankly in a way I think that would honestly make me more aligned with a by-the-Gospel person than someone stressing about making it to heaven. Obviously that’s not including the bits of terrorism used in the Bible, but you get what I mean. I think by the book Jesus would get me more than hyper-religious people insisting something is wrong with me. LIKE WHY DO YOU CARE! Why am *I* the one trying to go help a dying old man and *you* are the one trying to get me to listen to your opinion!!!! What happened to what would Jesus do!!!

[captain-is-king]

After the Supernova Chapter 2

Link to Ao3 Here

Look, if I was Nova I would need to do a lot of yelling and crying to process everything that happened. And I like the idea of after everything Nova actually WANTING to sleep. Like she's mentioned in the books before that she wished she could be unconscious for 8 hours like everyone else. And I feel like after the couple days she's had, that would be more true than ever.

I also really want to (eventually, later this fic) write a scene (or a few) where it's Max, Adrian, Hugh, Simon, and Nova cooking together in the kitchen. Just the sheer domesticity of it makes my chest hurt. Maybe Simon lets Max wear his stupid black and white checkered apron. Maybe they actually move the superhero stuff down the hall and the food into the closet in the kitchen. MAYBE THEY ALL MAKE LUMPIA TOGETHER. Or they surprise Nova with it! Either way! All of the above! Anyway, uh, I'll write that at some point.

Also, Simon and Hugh can't replace the family Nova had with the Anarchists, but I do think they can add to it. Like Nova will still have Leroy and Winston. When, in this chapter, Nova is upset about the Anarchists I don't think she's necessarily talking about Leroy. Leroy was the only one who ever suggested that Nova NOT be an Anarchist. He gave her that out in BOOK ONE. And I thought that was a really interesting distinction from all of the other Anarchists.

Like we all saw Ingrid using Nova to get back at the Renegades. I never suspected that Honey would turn out like that, but in retrospect it isn't entirely surprising. Like Honey told Nova how to flirt with Adrian but looking back on it, I don't know that it was ever for Nova's benefit. I think the expectation was ALWAYS that she would betray Adrian and everyone else in the end.

And I don't think Leroy was perfect because he did go along with Honey to change the plan at the arena to rescue Ace and obviously they've all made a lot of mistakes. But I don't think he ever would've pushed back if Nova said "No don't chemically burn my fingerprints off" or "I will take you up on the offer to go make a better life for myself." And I FULLY plan to address that later in this fic. I have so many ideas, y'all.

Also, I LOVE the idea from @honey-harper-official (I don't have the link, sorry!!) that Winston basically sabotaged the plan to kill the Renegades at the parade. Like that is canon to me. I really really like the arc that Winston went through and he was one of my favorite characters from book one because he clearly actually cared about Nova?? He could've betrayed her to make things better for himself but he didn't. I don't even think he really considered betraying her.

And I can't have him be dead in this fic because I NEED him and Nova to actually talk. And I need Nova to have someone from her childhood who fully didn't emotionally abuse her or see her as a pawn or a tool to regain power. I think, narratively, Winston dying didn't add much except the reconciliation with Nova, and if I go back and retroactively say that a (magical prodigy) healer actually got to him soon enough (even though Nova thought he was dead dead), I don't think it takes anything away from the story.

Anyway an excerpt from Chapter 2 under the cut :)

“So, Dad and Pops said probably won’t be back here tonight since they’re trying to get ahead of…whatever happened at the cathedral,” said Adrian, “But, there’s four empty guest rooms in the house, so you guys can have your pick.”

Nova considered briefly whether it would be inappropriate to ask which rooms were where the murders had taken place, but she thought better of mentioning it in front of Max and instead said, “I was actually hoping to take a shower. It’s…been a long day.”

“Oh, right. Do you just want to use my bathroom downstairs? I don’t think any of the guest bathrooms have, well, anything in them. There are a couple extra towels down there, though, and soap and whatever else you need. Or I could draw something, I guess. If you want.”

“I’m going to choose my room!” Max said, already halfway up the stairs. “But I need to know which ones might have ghosts, first.”

Nova could use Adrian’s bathroom. She didn’t know why she had made a big deal of it anyway. It felt strangely intimate, but so did all of this. Staying here, imposing on their family. 

“I’ll find what I need,” she said. “It sounds like you have to give the official tour.”

He shot her a grateful smile, and bounded up the stairs after Max.

Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to remember which of the dozen doors on the first floor led to the basement. She made her way down the stairs, remembering the last time she was here. The entire house had smelled like cinnamon, and Adrian had shown her the dream she told him about. He drew her a jungle, and birds, and headphones, and she had fallen asleep for the first time in ten years. 

Part of her wanted to see the studio again, but she knew nothing would be left. It all would’ve vanished when Adrian neutralized his own powers. So instead, she opened the door to the bathroom and peeled off her sweaty, dirty clothes while the water ran.

When she stepped under the water, Nova realized it was actually hot. Since the Anarchists had moved to the subway station on the Day of Triumph, hot water had been a rare luxury. Even at the row house, the water had been tepid, at best. 

As she stood there, the water running in rivulets down her body and the heat melting the tension in her muscles, she couldn’t help but begin to think, again, that she didn’t deserve this. 

She might as well have been the one to kill those people in the arena. To kill Callum and Winston, and who knew who else. She was the one who helped the Anarchists and the Rejects get inside. She had given Ace his helmet. 

And here she was, as though she were any other house guest in the mansion where Ace himself had slaughtered a family only a decade prior. 

How could Simon and Hugh let her into their home? How could Max joke with her and Adrian as if nothing was different? How could anyone think she deserved any help or affection after everything she had done? Everything she had not done. All for the benefit of a lie she had believed for ten years.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. 

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 20 - August

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 19 -- Part 21

Pairing: August x ofc

Summary: The guys throw a New Years Eve party at 179th Crescent Street...

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, oral (f and m receiving), dom!August, bratty sub Anjelica, BDSM, spanking, dacryphilia light?, slight humiliation/degradation kink, dirty talk, drug use (alcohol, weed), minor violence (someone gets punched), some angst, perfectionist struggles. I think we've got it?

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: SO! August's chapter. I really wanted this chapter to show how entirely on board Ange is with the relationship she and August have (I'm specifically referring to the bedroom dynamic, yes). I secretly hate how Ange is struggling in this chapter (I know, I know... I'm the one who wrote it... I'm still mad at myself for it...)

Let me know what you think! 🥰

“How’s this?” Anjelica twirls around in front of the mirror in a skirt she knows I like. I already know where this is going, and that party tonight is going to be exhausting enough without these games.

“I hate it,” she says. I can’t help but roll my eyes. 

“Of course you do,” I say. Like I said; I know where this is going, and I’m not playing. 

“August!” Naturally, she screams at me. I’m not the one playing silly mind games to avoid having to ask for what I want.

“What? Ange, I’m trying to read.” She’s going to have to use her words. 

“Tell me I’m pretty,” she says. 

“You know you’re pretty." Alright, I'm teasing her a little now, but what's the point of being her boyfriend if I can't do that every once in a while?

“Yes, but I want you to tell me,” she says as she climbs into my lap, making me put my book down. Finally. I always love it when she does this, straddling me - especially when she's wearing a skirt - but right now it's extra helpful. Makes it easier to… prove my point. I grab her hips and drag them over my cock - it's been hard since she decided to give me a little fashion show. She let me pick the lingerie I'll be taking off of her tonight, how nice of her. Meanwhile I get to sit here with a raging boner, all the math in the world isn't going to save me, and I'm growing impatient. 

"That's how pretty I think you are, Angel," I say. She's grinning, which makes me want to… My hand lands on her ass nearly unconsciously, and she squeals at the impact.

"Babe?" More requests, lovely. I know she's been stressed, lots of assignments, maybe a shift or so too many at the bar… And I happen to know exactly what she wants to ask me. 

"Yes, doll?" She smacks me in the shoulder for that one. Charles and Leon call her that. I did, too, when I first met her, but I stopped when we started to get serious. A doll is something you play with until you get bored of it. My Angel is mine forever. Sounds dramatic for a guy barely in his twenties, but it's the truth. She knows that. 

"Wanna play?" Her voice is soft but determined, and there's fire in her eyes. 

"Dunno, princess," I say, "convince me." Is that a very non-subtle code for 'suck my dick'? Yeah. It works though; she's already working on undoing my pants. 

I can't help but moan when her tongue darts out to tease me. Of course, I can order her to move it along and shove my cock down her throat, but I already plan on spanking every sensible thought out of her. It's what she needs right now. That and maybe something else. 

"Get that pussy over here," I say. Crude, but effective; she turns around immediately. 69 isn't a favorite of either of us, but I want her moaning around my cock and cumming on my tongue. At the same time. Then again… The practically unlimited access to that round little ass has potential. I give her a few quick smacks before I sink my teeth into her flesh… That's the 'moaning around my cock' part of the program covered, right there. Now onto the 'cumming on my tongue' part. 

She's still wearing her panties, I clearly didn't think this all the way through. 

"Don't rip those," she warns me. I don't usually get that warning, so I'm guessing these are a pair I can't afford to replace. 

"Expensive?" I ask. It probably sounds like I'm teasing while also running my fingers over the fabric. 

"Like you wouldn't believe," she answers. I can hear the smile in her voice, and it makes me wish I could see it on her pretty face. 

"Take them off yourself, then." I'm not quite sure it's an order, but it sure as fuck isn't a question. She gets that. 

Ange gets up - it's… finicky, to get out of this position, but we manage. The skirt falls back into place. Shame. 

"As a matter of fact," I say on a whim - which hardly ever happens, so I manage to surprise myself, "take it all off. Make it look pretty for me." Am I shamelessly asking for a striptease? Fuck yes. Have you seen my girl? I like nice things, sue me. Angel, though, she's the nicest of them all. And I'd burn the rest to the ground if she asked me to. 

Watching her sway her hips as she slowly - I know I asked for it, but she could make it a little faster, right? - takes her clothes off. I clearly wasn't paying attention when she got dressed, because there's no way I would have been able to keep my hands to myself if I had seen this on her. It was bad enough seeing it laid out on her bed, but now… I don't even want to know what this cost. Angie's parents are successful, absolutely loaded, and she's an only child and a bit of a daddy's girl. So she's a little spoiled - but not entitled. Her allowance is generous, and that's an understatement. And then there's me, who won't let her pay for dinner - ever. A girl like her? She deserves to be spoiled. And I'm the last to complain when she decides to put that money towards new lingerie.

"Like what you see, baby?" She's a fucking tease. Can't say that I hate it. 

"Mhm, come here." Fuck, I need that pretty mouth wrapped around my cock. No idea why I don't tell her that, I know for sure she would get off on it… She takes her panties off before getting on her knees, but not the rest of it. Good. It looks like fucking heaven on her. "Open your mouth, princess." 

I'm not surprised when she doesn't do it. Honestly, with all she's been going through, of course some attitude was to be expected. I'd go as far as saying we shouldn't indulge in the kind of… unconventional displays of affection we indulge in if I couldn't anticipate shit like this. That would be massively irresponsible. In any case, I'll appreciate putting her over my knee as much as I'd have appreciated the blowjob I know I'm not going to get. 

There's fire in her eyes. God, she's so gorgeous when she looks at me like that! 

"Use your words, beautiful," I say, a soft chuckle to my voice. "Tell me what you want." 

She's struggling, it's obvious, but tonight is not the night to take control over my little brat. She's going to have to give it up. Willingly. Her head now rests in my lap, lips dangerously close to my cock. Memories of the last time I saw her in roughly this position cross my mind. I was buried balls deep in her throat that time though. Not today - not now, at least. That means there's no reason for my dick to be out. She squirms and frowns when I put it back where she can't reach it, as if sucking me off was what she actually wanted to do. It's cute - I would have called it 'pathetic' if I was in a worse mood. 

"I- I can't, August." Fuck. I know she can't, but I'm having a great day which means I don't want her to fight me. I'll chase her on my bad days. That's how this works. I take my frustrations out on her, and I'll smack her frustrations out of her if she asks. But she's got to ask. 

"I know it's hard, kitten." I stroke her cheek as I say it, and tuck an unruly lost curl back behind her ear. "You can trust me."

"Just take it," she groans. 

"There's nothing I want from you today, sweetheart." She scowls at me from my lap. "I know, it's not fair. But trust me, I can help, all you have to do is ask." She grits her teeth and a high-pitched whine escapes her. Such a lovely sound… 

"Spank me, August, please. I want you to hit me until I can't think." I wince when she uses the word 'hit'. 'Spanking' sounds kinky and fun, even when you keep going until the object of your affections has bruises all over her ass - it's happened, and it was a great night - but 'hitting' sounds a little too… domestic abuse-y for my personal tastes. 

"Don't call it that," I groan. Despite the awkward choice of words, I'm happy she gave it up. I'm proud, even. It takes so much for her to give up control, and it means the world to me that she trusts me to take care of her.

"Consider it my first transgression," she says with a dirty smirk on her face. 

"Oh, we're a long ways past your first transgression, princess," I say. I can't help but smirk, either. "Get over here." That smirk on my face isn’t going anywhere - maybe it grows a little more sadistic as she climbs into my lap, this time over my knees so I have easy access to her lovely ass. I don't know why, but I just think it looks better with my handprints all over it. 

She's squealing in no time, writhing in my lap every time my palm hits her ass. I could do this for hours - in fact, I have - just for the sound of it. She doesn't want me to stop until she's begging me to, and even then, it's entirely dependent on how badly she needs this. Sometimes the fact that I love doing shit like this makes me feel sick. I'm not a masochist by nature, but at times, I feel like picking a fight with Sy over this again, just so he can get a couple more punches in. God knows he wants to, every single time he runs into Ange, but he chokes it down. He's got a better handle on his temper than I do, that's for sure.

"Is my ass going to outlast your hand this time?" Ange asks. She's unbelievable. There are tears on her face, mascara running, she was sobbing and crying out in absolute fucking agony not even thirty seconds ago, and now she's taunting me? Just for that, I smack her again. Hard. 

"Think again, princess. And keep that pretty little mouth shut if you want to be able to sit tomorrow." That won't keep her quiet, I know that. She's in a mood. It's fine, I love it. 

"So, gag me." That's not what she wants, I can see it in her eyes. She wants to check if I'll make good on that threat, though. Ange whines when I grab her hair and pull her head up.   

"Baby girl, you can use your words to ask for what you want, but I'm not putting up with this attitude. Understood?" I smirk as she squirms and whines. Then, she takes a deep breath. 

"Please keep going," she murmurs. She sounds exhausted. "Turn my brain off, please." 

I know she can handle a bit more, and if it's what she wants, how could I not give it to her? Am I, in doing so, also feeding my own sadistic desires? Yeah. That’s the point - part of it, anyway. But I’m definitely not pretending when I say I do this for her.

By the time I pull her into my arms, she's crying again. 

"I'm proud of you," I whisper softly. Not because of the amount of torture she can handle - although it is impressive - but because I know how difficult it is for her to ask for the things she needs. 

"August…"

"Shh, Angel, let me take care of you." She sighs when I press my lips to her temple and some of the tension in her body dissolves. "Good girl." With every breath she takes, she sinks into my arms a little further. 

"I'm tired," she whispers. 

"I know," I reply. The next wave of tears comes with a tsunami of broken sentences, excuses, explanations - as if she has to convince me that there's a reason for her meltdown. Anyone could have seen this coming from miles away - even her. She probably did, and ignored that, and now we’re here. That’s alright, though. I’m here to pick up the pieces. That’s what I signed up for, and that’s what she does for me, too. In our own wicked little way.

“You know we don’t have to go, if you’re not up for it, right?” I ask while she’s getting dressed - for real this time. She’s settled on a very tight pencil skirt and a blouse I wouldn’t try to name the color of, because she’d immediately tell me I was wrong. It’s somewhere in the blue-green area of the spectrum. 

“I want to go,” she replies. It’s no surprise. First of all; as established, she’s an absolute champ when it comes to ignoring her own boundaries, and second of all because she really likes being at my place. Crescent Street is home to her more than this place is. She says it’s because she likes how loud it can be - I honestly can’t imagine, it’s one of the most annoying things to me almost constantly. 

“Sol just texted me,” she says, and my thoughts grind to a halt. Those two are texting now? Great! Now it’s just a matter of time before she talks me into going on a double date with her and Geralt. G and I are both going to love that. I roll my eyes, hoping she doesn’t notice, but I should really know better by now. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. They need help setting up.” So, naturally, we’re on our way to help set things up. 

During the party - which is largely just a Charles-buffet, if I’m being perfectly honest - I keep Ange close. She’s her usual, bubbly self, but I can see the remnants of her afternoon breakdown on her face. Did I tell her that? Of course not! I value my life, thanks. Besides, there's not much she can do about looking generally tired, anyway. She’s currently involved in a conversation with Elena that I’m not keeping track of at all. Neither is Sherlock, from the looks of it. 

“Should I be glad Elena gets along with Anjelica so well?” he asks me quietly. It’s noisy enough in the kitchen for the girls to not overhear us.

“Oh, we don’t get a say in these things. I’m fairly sure we’re doomed already,” Geralt suddenly says. Solveig has joined Elena and Ange, and they’re chattering away like the world is going to end tomorrow.

“What do you mean?” Sherlock asks.

“I heard - and you didn’t get this from me - that they’re planning a girls night.” I can’t help but groan, Sherlock just looks at us all confused. 

“That usually means that all of them are going to be told every minute intimate detail of your relationship, so they can… I don’t know why they do it, just that they do.” It’s a very unsatisfying explanation, I do realize that, but it’s all I’ve got. I have parts of Angie figured out, but other parts remain a complete mystery to me, and this is one of them. 

“How intimate?” Sherlock asks. The look on his face is a mix between surprise and concern. 

“Yes,” Geralt says, “that intimate.” We both chuckle discreetly as a flash of pure panic crosses his face. 

“We’re not looking forward to it, either,” I say as I put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Not looking forward to what?” Elena asks, ducking underneath my arm to get next to Sherlock. Ange and Sol also join our circle, and seem to await the answer patiently. 

“Nothing,” the three of us grunt. Is that suspicious? Probably. Nothing we can do about it now… 

It’s freezing cold outside. Just after Sherlock decided that he’d seen enough people for the day, Angie noticed what Mike was up to in the living room. The four of us shamelessly relocated to the backyard - where it’s nice and quiet, probably mostly because these temperatures aren’t fit for human beings, but it’s still a bonus. 

“Did you guys step outside when you saw me leave the living room?” Mike asks when he gets outside and sees that none of us have a very good reason to be here other than… waiting for him, honestly. “For fuck’s sake, I’ll roll another one, here.” He gives Dani a joint he kept in his pocket - the little project Ange was so nice to snitch on for us - and starts the next one. 

“Thanks, Mikey,” Anjelica says. Mike smiles back at her. I used to think it was weird that Ange and Mike got along so well, but I don’t doubt it anymore. They’re a lot alike in a few ways I don’t even want to try to figure out. 

“Are you almost done?” Dani is shaking like a leaf, and it doesn’t look like it’s because she’s cold. 

“What happened, Dani?” Anjelica asks. 

“Just some guy who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.” I grit my teeth - we thought we heard commotion in the living room, and the fact that some guy from the soccer team burst through the kitchen, holding his nose, and made a beeline for the door should have been an indication that something was up. Things settled quickly after that, so we didn’t feel the need to check it out. Now, I wish we had. Dani doesn’t deserve shit like this, and that guy deserved more than a broken nose. She’s sweet and she keeps Mike in check. I couldn’t name two people who have managed that so far. He deserves one more person who doesn't expect him to constantly apologize for being who he is.

“Shit, you took care of that?” I ask. 

“Charles punched him and told him to fuck off,” he replies. I just nod - it’s clear Mike is feeling bad enough about this as is, there’s no need to make it worse. Besides, it’s not as if Mike would have handled a situation like that in a better kind of way. I don't blame him. It probably would have taken three guys to pull me off the son of a bitch, too. 

I vaguely register Mike asking Dani if he can do anything for her, and shortly after see her pointing at the joint in my hands. I hand it to her - I’ve had enough, anyway. There’s a fine line between stoned and paranoid for me, and I’m better off drinking, usually. I do like how calm I feel. Ange runs a hand through my hair. Normally, I hate it when she does things like that, but this time, I lean into it. I can tell Mike is waiting for me to get drunk enough to get all snuggly, but I don’t think it’s going to happen tonight. 

Angie leans against me, and I see Mike looking at her, with a faint smile on his lips. I don’t even want to know where his mind is right now, but I’m sure he can tell she’s not in a good mood. Mike is far from the most perceptive guy, but he’s no Sy or Charles - you have to slap them in the face with something three times before they notice. Mike often notices things he shouldn’t be noticing, while forgetting about the stuff he definitely should be noticing. It took some getting used to in the beginning, but we would hate to miss him now. Plus, the internet would never work properly again. I swear our modem is scared of Mike, and Mike alone. 

We’re getting closer to midnight, and I envy Sherlock. If I’d just had the guts to call it quits an hour or something ago, I wouldn’t have been out here freezing my balls off. Ange is the only good thing about this place right now - she’s the only good thing about a whole lot of situations. I can’t help but pull her closer, even though I’m not exactly drunk enough to be so touchy. There are only a few people out here to see, anyway, and I trust them. We can always pin it on Ange being really cold - it wouldn’t even be a total lie. Trying to keep track of the conversation is no use at this point. First because it’s pretty much about nothing, and second because… Because I’m stoned, drunk, and I genuinely don’t care at this point. I just want to go to bed, pull my Angel into my arms, and sleep. 

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Michael Shermer

Published: Jun 21, 2024

In my book Why People Believe Weird Things I offered this definition of how science works:

Science is a set of methods designed to describe and interpret observed or inferred phenomenon, past or present, aimed at building a testable body of knowledge open to rejection or confirmation

That is, science is something we do, an action, a verb, to describe what we see in the lab or field or world, or interpret what we think we see, since the facts never just speak for themselves but must be interrupted through some model or theory (facts are “theory laden”). Sometimes we see things directly, but sometimes we must infer their presence indirectly, for example, exo-planets are inferred by their effects on their home star, either by the perturbation of the star’s motion or by the amount of emitted light that dims when the planet passes in front of it that astronomers can detect. Because many sciences are historical in nature—cosmology, geology, paleontology, archaeology, and history—we have to infer information about them from indirect sources. To put this mouthful more briefly:

Science is a method to explain the world that is testable and open to change.

My favorite rendition of this process comes from a 1964 lecture at Cornell University by the Nobel laureate physicist Richard Feynman:

If it disagrees with experiment, it’s wrong. In that simple statement is the key to science. It doesn’t make any difference how beautiful your guess is, how smart you are, who made the guess, or what his name is. If it disagrees with experiment, it’s wrong. That’s all there is to it.

Is that all there is to it? In this week’s Skeptic column a scholar of Karl Popper, Eric Denton, considers this question, in the context of what happens when people do not understand how science works, as evidenced by Tucker Carlson’s recent appearance on Joe Rogan when he revealed his ignorance about the theory of evolution.

—Michael Shermer

Eric Denton is a writer and podcaster whose primary focus is epistemology; in particular, Popperian epistemology. He separates the wheat from the chaff by subjecting popular science and philosophical writings to severe criticism. His mission is to promulgate critical rationalism to his readers and listeners. Eric is currently working on a book which revolves around the work of Sir Karl Popper.

--

By: Eric Denton

Tucker Carlson, Karl Popper, and How Science Really Works

Eric Denton 

“Theories (scientific or otherwise) are trials, inventions; they are not the results of many observations; they are not derived from many data.”

—Karl Popper, All Life Is Problem Solving

On the April 23, 2024 episode of the wildly popular podcast The Joe Rogan Experience, former preppy now turned populist right-wing firebrand Tucker Carlson confidently declared that “the theory of evolution as articulated by Darwin is like, kinda not true.” 

“In what sense?” asked a bemused Joe Rogan.

“Well, in the most basic sense,” Carlson continued. “The idea that—you know—all life emerged from a single organism and overtime—and—there would be a fossil record of that and there’s not.” 

Rogan interjected by mentioning the existence of transitional fossils; fossils exhibiting adaptations to particular environments.

Carlson quickly appropriated this explanation for his own ends: “there’s tons of record of adaptation and you see it, in your own life. I mean, I have a lot of dogs—I see adaptation in dogs….” He rambled on a bit more before concluding, “but no, there’s no evidence at all that—none—zero—that, you know, people, you know, evolved seamlessly from a single cell amoeba; no, there’s not—there’s not—there’s no chain in the fossil record of that at all.”

I’m afraid Carlson’s blathering is demonstrative of how a great many people think about the methods of science and the growth of knowledge. Like him, multitudes think we acquire knowledge through our senses. This is false. But before continuing, let me supplement this claim with a quote from the philosopher of science Karl Popper’s book The Logic of Scientific Discovery, “I readily admit that only observation can give us ‘knowledge concerning facts’, [here Popper is quoting philosopher Hans Hahn] and that we can ‘become aware of facts only by observation’.” But then Popper reflects, “but this awareness, this knowledge of ours, does not justify or establish the truth of any statement.” So, to be sure, we can learn facts using our senses—unjustified tentative facts—but this isn’t where knowledge comes from. 

On November 24, 1859, Charles Darwin introduced what philosopher Daniel Dennett would later call the “best idea anyone has ever had.” This idea was the theory of evolution by natural selection. “In a single stroke,” Dennett asserts in his book Darwin’s Dangerous Idea, “the idea of evolution by natural selection unifies the realm of life, meaning, and purpose with the realm of space and time, cause and effect, mechanism and physical law.” The evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins waxes eloquent about the simplicity and elegance of natural selection in his book The Blind Watchmaker, following up with a curious question, “how could such a simple idea go so long undiscovered by thinkers of the caliber of Newton, Galileo, Descartes, Leibnitz, Hume and Aristotle?” I’ve often asked this myself.

A couple of centuries before Darwin, in 1610, Galileo Galilei observed, among other things, the phases of Venus (shadows caused by its relation to the sun) through his newly improved homemade telescope, thereby corroborating the heliocentric theory of our solar system; a theory put forth by Nicolaus Copernicus about a half century earlier. With this discovery—in the minds of many—we had finally found the key to making scientific progress: observation! It seemed as if Galileo had simply pointed his telescope at Venus, observed it circling the sun, and voilà, the truth was revealed. But is this what really happened? I’ll argue below that this is mistaken. But first we need context.

About a decade after the corroboration of the heliocentric theory, the philosopher Francis Bacon independently put forth a scientific method that vaguely resembled what Galileo had done. Or at least it seemed so under indiscriminate viewing. His method proposed that, in order to make scientific progress, we must derive general theories from specific observations. For example, if—up to now—you’ve only ever come across white swans in your life, according to Bacon’s method you can logically deduce that all swans are white; you notice a pattern, then derive a theory. “We must not imagine or invent,” Bacon writes in his book Novum Organum, “but discover….”

[ The title page illustration of Francis Bacon’s Novum Organum ]

In other words, we simply allow knowledge to enter our brains through our senses. Sound familiar? This is precisely how Tucker Carlson demonstrated his method of understanding the natural world. “I see adaptation in dogs,” he said. From this he forms the theory that adaptation is “clearly, obviously true,” but then says “there’s no evidence at all that… people… evolved seamlessly from a single cell amoeba.” Notice that he easily accepts adaptation (which, ironically, is a result of natural selection), but refuses to accept the full theory; all this because he didn’t see it happen.

Before returning to Italy with Galileo, let’s first revisit this statement by Bacon. Here it is in full:

We must not imagine or invent, but discover the acts and properties of nature.

This statement is somewhat paradoxical because it does indeed take us two steps forward, but it also takes us one step back. Two steps forward because it abandons traditional authorities (which is a good thing); one step back because it sets up a new authority, namely, our senses. Wait, our senses can be an authority? No, but that’s what they became under many early thinkers. This kind of reasoning is what legitimized the flat earth theory for so long. For example, if you had a time machine and traveled back in time to the 14th century and asked any number of people why they thought the earth was flat, perplexed, they would answer with their own question: “does it look curved?”

Quick but critical digression: the “white swan” proposition mentioned above comes from the 19th century philosopher John Stuart Mill in his book A System of Logic. In it, Mill points out the major flaw in the Baconian method; the fact that it will never be able to give us certainty:

To Europeans, not many years ago, the proposition, all swans are white, appeared an equally unequivocal instance of uniformity in the course of nature. Further experience has proved to both that they were mistaken; but they had to wait fifty centuries for this experience. During that long time, mankind believed in a uniformity of the course of nature where no such uniformity really existed.

This is an extremely important finding in the study of knowledge. It was first noticed by the Ancient Greek skeptical philosophers but took nearly two thousand more years before being neatly articulated by the Scottish philosopher David Hume in his book A Treatise of Human Nature. “We suppose, but are never able to prove, that there must be a resemblance betwixt those objects, of which we have had experience, and those which lie beyond the reach of our discovery.” No matter how many white swans you may come across in your life, there’s always the possibility that a black swan might be sitting on an undiscovered island in the middle of the ocean. 

[ David Hume by Allan Ramsay, 1766 ]

Now that we have some context surrounding our “senses as an authority” problem, let’s reexamine Galileo and his Venus observations. In his book, Galileo: Watcher of the Skies, historian David Wootton describes a letter Johannes Kepler received from Galileo in 1597 in which “he made a most remarkable claim.” After revealing he had been a Copernican for quite a while, Galileo writes of the heliocentric theory, “with this hypothesis [I] have been able to explain many natural phenomena, which under the current hypothesis remain unexplainable.” This conflict of theories was a problem, but as Karl Popper writes, “the natural as well as the social sciences always start from problems…” He continues, “seeing a new problem may well be the most difficult step in creating a new theory.” I take this as Popper indicating how much of a gift finding a problem truly is. When we find a problem we should cherish it. From the same book, All Life Is Problem Solving, Popper outlines the growth of knowledge as follows: 

The starting point is always a problem or a problem situation.

Attempted solutions then follow. These consist of theories, and these theories, being trials, are very often wrong: they are and always will be hypotheses or conjectures.

In science, too, we learn by eliminating our mistakes, by eliminating our false theories.

[ Sir Karl Popper in the 1980s. ]

In short, all knowledge creation is through trial and error. More specifically, trial and the elimination of error, always with the understanding that we can never be certain that we’ve landed on the truth. We proceed not with certain knowledge, but with good explanations. What are those? Here, the theoretical physicist David Deutsch provides a helpful addendum to Popper’s work with a definition from his book The Beginning of Infinity: a good explanation is “an explanation that is hard to vary while still accounting for what it purports to account for.” Put differently, “God did it” is a bad explanation because it can be used to describe anything.

Given this, what really happened with Galileo and his telescope? As previously noted, he started with a problem; a conflict between two theories. Notice that Galileo already had a theory in mind before he made his observation:; the Copernican theory. This will always be the case. “There is no such thing as ‘raw’ experience,” writes Deutsch; “all our experience of the world comes through layers of conscious and unconscious interpretation.” Or as Popper is supposed to have said, “all observation is theory-laden.”

The predominant theory of Galileo’s time was geocentrism, put forth by the 2nd century astronomer Claudius Ptolemy, asserting that the Sun, the Moon, and the stars all circle the earth. Ptolemy’s was a complex model involving different epicycles. He came to this mistaken hypothesis by the false authority of his senses—by looking at the movement of the heavens and attempting to describe what he saw. Galileo on the other hand observed Venus (a wondering dot in the sky conjectured to be a planet) with having both the Ptolemaic and the Copernican theories in mind. Long story short, the Copernican theory simply made more sense than the common-sense theory put forth by Ptolemy. But as Deutsch notes in The Fabric of Reality, “our best theories are not only truer than common sense, they make more sense than common sense.” Common sense is just another way of describing the Baconian method.

[ Pages from 1550 Annotazione on Sacrobosco's De sphaera mundi, showing the Ptolemaic system. ]

This brings us back to Darwin. How did he come up with the theory of evolution by natural selection? He did exactly what Bacon said not to do, he imagined and invented! As with the creation of all knowledge, he didn’t start with an observation, but with a problem. What was his problem? It was the “mystery of mysteries,” as he describes it in the Origin, alluding to a phrase first uttered by the naturalist John Herschel, who was referring to precisely the same problem: what is the origin of species? The prevailing theory in Darwin’s day was standard biblical creationism, bracketed by Plato’s essentialism. Darwin himself held this view before encountering a conflict between his theory and his observation. The evolutionary biologist Ernst Mayr describes this conflict in his introduction to Origin’s facsimile:

Three sets of observations, in particular, impressed Darwin: that fossils from South America are related to the living fauna of that continent rather than to contemporaneous fossils from everywhere; that the faunas of the different climatic zones of South America are related to each other, rather than to animals of the same climatic zone on different continents; and, most important, that the faunas of islands (Falkland, Galapagos) are related to those of the nearest mainland and that related species occur on different islands of the same archipelago.

When one is faced with a situation like this—a problem situation—one has to start making guesses as to how to fix it. That’s precisely what Darwin did. He had never seen anything like natural selection before, he simply made a guess. The theory of natural selection didn’t enter his brain through his senses. Rather, it left his brain through his senses. More specifically, it was created between his ears and left through his hands and mouth. Nature doesn’t create laws and impose them on us. Instead, we create laws and apply them to nature. Are these laws true? We can never know for certain. Again, laws fall under knowledge, and all explanatory knowledge is conjectural, a “best” guess as it were. 

And that brings us back to Tucker Carlson, who finished his rant against Darwinism by claiming: “Darwin’s theory is [totally untrue]. That’s why it’s still a theory.” Despite such ignorance, Carlson actually gets something right with this last statement. Natural selection is indeed still a theory and will remain so unless it gets overthrown by a new theory, a better theory. If this were to happen, the new theory would also remain just a theory—perennially tentative and subject to revision based on new information or analyses.

In his book The Greatest Show On Earth, Richard Dawkins takes great pains to combat the “just a theory” claim. In order to do so, he fights tooth and nail the very philosophy I’ve been speaking of this whole time: “As for the claim that evolution has never been ‘proved’, proof is a notion that scientists have been intimidated into mistrusting. Influential philosophers tell us we can’t prove anything in science.” Nevertheless, Dawkins lands the philosophical plane: “The more energetically and thoroughly you try to disprove a theory, if it survives the assault, the more closely it approaches what common sense happily calls a fact.” That said, to reiterate, knowledge can never be certain. Popper explains it like this:

The empirical basis of objective science has thus nothing “absolute” about it. Science does not rest upon rock-bottom. The bold structure of its theories rises, as it were, above a swamp. It is like a building erected on piles. The piles are driven down from above into the swamp, but not down to any natural or “given” base; and when we cease our attempts to drive our piles into a deeper layer, it is not because we have reached firm ground. We simply stop when we are satisfied that they are firm enough to carry the structure, at least for the time being.

My guess is that thinkers such as Newton, Galileo, Descartes, Leibnitz, Hume, and Aristotle—the thinkers mentioned by Dawkins above—didn’t land on natural selection because of its abstract nature. The common sense of their day was far too strong to overthrow. They were afraid to step into the land of best guesses where the only thing that matters is the falsifiability of a theory (that is, it can be put to some test and shown to be wrong), not its verifiability (simply finding more cases where it appears to hold true). It’s not surprising that Darwin sat on his “dangerous” idea for so long before publishing. Its sheer boldness is breathtaking. And it is only through such boldness that makes science progress—by testing bold and seemingly improbable ideas. 

==

Tucker Carlson is an abject fucking moron.

[ashenhartkrie]

15 questions 15 friends

yay I got tagged in a thing! thanks @babblish

are you named after anyone? My deadname was for a video game character but my chosen name was just me calling myself what my internet nickname was for years.

when was the last time you cried? This morning :(

do you have kids? no, thank fuck

what sports do you play/have played? I did martial arts (gojukai), fencing briefly, and currently do weight lifting.

do you use sarcasm? eh? sometimes?

what is the first thing you notice about people? I notice nothing ever. I am Jon Snow.

what is your eye color? green

scary movies or happy endings? happy endings but only if its the happy ending the character needed, not what they wanted.

any talents? I can play multiple instruments and sing averagely, and I'm good at making words sound good.

what's your favorite music genre? ....sad indie folk

do you have any pets? I had two cats. Mishka died on Monday :( so now its just Frankie living with my mum.

how tall are you? somewhere between 5'5 and 5'8. I do not know.

favorite subject in the school? Surprisingly absolutely no one given my literal bachelor degree, English.

dream job? kind of what i'm doing? I wanted to write novels and write articles for natgeo but now I'm a journalist at a radio station and a published author :)

tagging... god who do I tag? @vasirah @winekita @pudgykookaburra

@klefaeries @chimaerabutt @turtlebard @artofmisi @raffaellosanziodaurbino and whoever else wants to do this i gues