#cop fuckery

[reasoningdaily]

Denver's City Council unanimously approved a $4.7 million settlement to over 300 Black Lives Matter protesters arrested by Denver police in the summer of 2020.

The settlement was approved as part of the city council's consent agenda and covers over 300 people who participated in protests surrounding the police killing of George Floyd. This settlement is separate from the $14 million payout to 12 injured protesters, which went to a jury trial last year -- and which the city is appealing in federal court -- and a $1.6 million settlement to seven injured protesters earlier this year.

The $4.7 million settlement approved Monday will go to protesters who say their First Amendment rights were violated by the Denver Police Department.

"Denver used its militarized police force to unlawfully arrest over 300 people for protesting the murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor," said Claire Sannier, one of the arrested protesters and plaintiffs in this lawsuit. "The city has agreed to pay for this one instance of violent suppression of free speech, while they continue to brutalize and imprison people every day. Our message is that Black Lives Matter is as necessary now as it was in 2020."

Front and center in the initial lawsuit filed against the city are text messages sent among Denver police leadership appearing to show them only enforcing a curfew against protesters.

"Over 300 people were arrested for the simple act of protesting. The U.S. Constitution does not allow police to clear the streets of protesters simply because they do not agree with their message," said Elizabeth Wang, of the civil rights law firm Loevy & Loevy and lead attorney for the plaintiffs. "In addition to compensation to protesters, the settlement prevents the City from enacting any curfew enforced against those engaged in protest activity in the future. This is a win that will protect free speech in Denver for the years to come."

CBS News Colorado reached out to the Denver Police Department for comment. A department spokesman deferred to the City Attorney's Office, which denies that the department violated anyone's constitutional rights.

"The City and County of Denver has reached a settlement in a federal class action lawsuit filed on behalf of over 300 individuals who were arrested for violating the curfew order during protests in May 2020," the City Attorney's Office said in a statement. "The class plaintiffs alleged enforcement of the curfew order violated the First and Fourteenth Amendments of the U.S. Constitution. Denver denies its curfew order was unconstitutionally enforced. Under the proposed settlement, the total amount for class members is expected to be between approximately $3.0 to 3.5 million with the remaining approximately $1.22 to 1.72 million allocated to attorneys' fees, costs, and settlement administration expenses. The settlement must be approved by the District Court."

[ausetkmt]

Cops RESIGN After Brutalizing Homeless Man, Dumping Him In Alley Miles Away

It never amazes me when I see white cops do shit like this.

[hussyknee]

Once I stopped wheezing, I went looking for what inspired this tweet. Apparently anyone consistently ripping into Biden and telling anyone why he's trash is "voter suppression". Liberals have all lost their goddamn minds.

[byler-alarmist]

Someone drowned in Sattler Quarry in 1976.

There is rumored to be time fuckery going on in S5.

Should I be worried????

[bijoumikhawal]

got reminded of the "saying Arabs conquered and colonized North Africa is Zionist because obviously no one saying that coulx possibly draw a distinction between North African Arabs and Palestinian Arabs, and even drawing a distinction between Arabs and Imazighen is colonizer shit" school of thought

[chuplayswithfire]

Ed's not an unreliable narrator, certain fans just don't want to listen to what he's saying.

[reasoningdaily]

these news agencies carried this story without a paywall - dumb asses put up paywalls, and we go around them to show you the news

A Florida police officer is under investigation after allegedly handcuffing and jailing his 3-year-old son for having potty training troubles.

According to the Daytona Beach News-Journal, it all took place last October, when body-cam video obtained by the journal showed Lt. Michael Schoenbrod, of the Daytona Beach Public Safety Department, explaining to a Department of Children and Families caseworker why he jailed his child.

"He was crying. I was getting the response I expected from him," Schoenbrod told the caseworker.

His son later promised to not soil his pants ever again, Schoenbrod told the caseworker.

During the interview, however, Schoenbrod told the caseworker he's jailed his children before for teaching purposes. Last time being approximately nine years ago, when he jailed his 4-year-old son after misbehaving at preschool, the journal reported.

"I took him to the jail and he sat there. And I watched him ... and he was crying and everything, and to this day, if you mention that incident, he’s just like, ‘I would never do that again.’ It was effective," Schoenbrod is heard telling the caseworker in the hourlong footage.

According to memos obtained by the journal, the police department's Public Safety Director Michael Fowler informed Schoenbrod he was facing a professional standards investigation but the results have not yet been made public.

It remains unclear whether Schoenbrod will face disciplinary action from the city. Neither he nor his attorney responded to requests for comment by the journal.

[cavaliersecondary]

genuinely trying to allow myself not to give a shit if ppl see my nips thru my clothes cause it happens even with a bra/binder anyways and so if its inevitable and i hate bras i might as well forgo it if i want. but oh boy is it not easy to panic about if people are judging me <3

[cherryblossomshadow]

My gender is “I don’t know either, and you don’t get to” (comment courtesy of @transfelixfelicis)

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Yeah, I always feel weird about this because, like,

If the gender options are "male/female/neither" then I'm definitely male. But if the options are "male/female/prefer not to answer" then I have a strong inclination towards the last one. (comment courtesy of @jadagul)

i love when the gender options are "male" "female" and "prefer not to answer"

like it just reads as "boy" "girl" and "what are you, a cop? i don't owe you anything"

[cassowariess]

I think Breaking Bad is an objectively better series in terms of writing, pacing and tight storyline, but having finished Better Call Saul and its more slow burner character studies I am obsessed with how nearly every single major character in the show is trying to convince themselves that they are rightously justified in some way. And by the time they realize they are not, it's too late.

Jimmy thinks he's justified in destroying Howard and Chuck's lives and rebrands himself as a 'champion of the underdog' when the truth is he's given several opportunities to better himself and just won't, because he gets a thrill out of fucking with people. Even when he flees to Nebraska he can't stop his schemes, like he's picking an open wound.

Kim convinces herself that screwing with Howard is funny and justified because he reprimanded her for pushing so hard with Jimmy's recommendation to Clifford Main. She should be angry at Jimmy for fucking up such a good opportunity but she, too gets a thrill out of punishing Howard and trying to drive him to insanity. She tries to wash her hands of it all, but Howard's murder makes her realize, too late that this was all just twisted, cruel, fuckery.

Mike lost his son to dirty cops, turns to a life of crime, but also seems to think he is above it all. Above the dirty cops, above the cartel. He tries to work via a moral code but it unravels when he kills Werner and then ends up betraying Nacho. It's only until Manuel tells him: "Justice? My boy is dead. This isn't justice, it's revenge. You gangsters are all the same" that he realizes he, too is a piece of shit and has repeated the cycle of losing a son.

Nacho says he "enjoys ripping off criminals because they can't go to the police. They have no recourse." And that's probably how he was able to do his job as Tuco's right hand man for so long. He just tells himself: these are all bad people so it's justified, when he's literally one of the bad people. He probably did all kinds of evil shit before he eventually wanted out.

Chuck thinks he's justified in keeping Jimmy's career prospects down because Jimmy's mom saw him as "the golden boy." He's furious that he had to work hard and (to his eye, anyway) Jimmy got to sail through life by taking shortcuts, so he won't allow him to climb the ladder. Chuck is somewhat right that Jimmy fucks everything up, deliberately, but part of his motivator is definitely bitterness and revenge and not concern. He even tells Jimmy: "You never really mattered to me."

Narratively: "I'm sorry that happened to you but you have no one to blame but yourself."

[dollscircus]

Swing first, ask later. Chapter 1.

(In my defence it’s Gotham and you were breaking in)

chapter 2

Arkham Knight Jason Todd x vet!Reader

Words: 2.5k

Tags: Injury detail, fighting and brief reference to animal cruelty plus general fuckery.

Synopsis: when you found someone breaking into your little veterinary clinic, you didn’t expect to find the Arkham Knight and certainly didn’t expect to find out that he reminds you of a wounded puppy. You’re a fixer, I guess…

-

I’ve always been a fixer. It’s always been apart of myself, ever since I was a kid. My mother at a young age learned what streets in Gotham to avoid with me because God forbid I’d see a small stray animal and try to sneak it home in my pocket. The animal shelters knew me so well at age 12, commonly bringing them in whatever injured or sick animal I would and wrangled into my arms. Most of your pocket money was used on animals and people in need.

That’s why I became a veterinarian, it felt good being able to help some of the weakest creatures in Gotham, a place that didn’t show many mercy. I liked being able to show that mercy and care. The night I met him, you stayed late in the clinic which was a normal thing. Your apartment was above the clinic, so it made it easy to come down the stairs to check on my patients during the night. That’s what brought my down into the clinic.

I weren’t sure how late it was, yawning as your body protested even being awake. I walked down the steps leading to the back alley, where the back door to the clinic was found. Rubbing the heel of my hand into my tried eyes as the keys jangled in my hand as my fingers worked through the bundle of keys to find the exact one I were looking for.

I mumbled in irritation while pushing the door open, I didn’t notice the blood drops on the floor of the alley as I stepped over it and into the clinic. I reached my hand over to the light switch but paused when I felt the breeze and whistle of the wind. Scanning around the dark clinic, I spotted it; A window was smashed, the curtains blowing softly in the soft breeze. I paused listening to slight movements coming from one of the back rooms. Oh, fuck that.

Another fun fact about myself, I don’t often think my actions through. The sounds were coming from the back room where the animals needing long term care were housed, in that moment I was to worried about whoever was in there harming the animals I didn’t think about calling the cops when I crept through the dark office, grabbing a baseball bat that was leaning against the desk.

I took slow and soft steps while walking through the office, noticing the back door slightly left open ajar. Some small light streaming in through the door, I couldn’t see much of the figure moving around but that small amount of light made I finally notice the blood smears over the ground. I looked down to the ground and scowled at the sight of blood. What?

I stood by the door, peaking my eyes inside and saw the stack of cages. Most of the patients sleeping aside from one of the cats who was clearly watching whoever was in the room who I heard an annoyed curse come from. The voice sounded weird like it came from a filter. I took a deep breath, adrenaline pumping through my blood as I nudged the door open with the bat then with a quick motion kicking the door open and just- swinging the bat at the figure in the room before even taking a solid look at him.

I missed. I never pretended to be athlete; the bat slammed into the metal of the shelf denting it. I gasped while the figured lashed to the side to avoid the blow, the metal bat made a metallic ringing sound in my ears. Turning your head to the figure, I didn’t register who he was; I could see the frantic shuffling back away from the shelf. The frantic gesture caused me to suddenly think about a scared stray dog. That train of thought kept my mind occupied that I gave the man enough time to pull the gun off his belt.

The next few moments were filled with many feelings and realisations. The first was that the man bleeding all over my floor was the Arkham Knight. Next the next was the gun he was now pointing at me. Honestly? Fair enough. There were a few long moments that stretched out, filling with the sound of your unsteady breathing and his own breathing distorted by the helmet. It was tense. He just stared at me; his grip of the gun trembled. I wasn’t sure what was about to happen, expecting to be killed but then- his hand and gun dropped down to the ground with a thud.

“Huh.” I said, my voice sounded a little weird just standing in the dim office. The Arkham Knight was still now, his breathing coming through the helmet with a distorted sound. I stepped closer, still holding the bat up as you creeped closer. Standing above him, I tilted your head to the side before tapping the bat into his foot. No reaction.

I tilted your head to the other side while looking him over, a wound was seeping out blood from his thigh. Ah, that makes sense why he had broken into the clinic. Ok- nice I didn’t get shot. I turned on your heel to walk out of the office to call the police until the memory of the Arkham Knight crawling back away from you flashed in your mind and it stopped you in your tracks. My common sense screamed to call the cops. That would be the smart thing to do but I was never one for common sense. I turned over my shoulder to look at the man on the ground. “Fuck.”

I wasn’t a doctor; I were a veterinarian but hey, I did my best. All I did was cut away from of the fabric from the wound to tend to it, leaving the clunky helmet in place. After I were done stitching his leg up, I left him on the cold table while you sat in a chair nearby just- staring at him.

He would sleep for a freakishly long time, so much so that the sun was creeping over the horizon when he finally did wake up. I didn’t notice it at first, I can my back to him while you were cleaning up the mess he caused, picking up boxes of medicine and supplies to place them back in their rightful spot. Standing in place, I didn’t realise he had woken up until there was suddenly an arm hooked around my throat with the Arkham knight leaning over me. His weight pushing me into the self as I felt the muzzle of the gun pressing into my ribs.

“Whoa- Whoa.” I started, trying to soften my voice. I didn’t really notice I was using the same voice I used with the more- feral animals that come into the clinic. The gun pressed a little harder into my ribs, but I wasn’t as scared as I should’ve been.

“What did you do?” He asked, voice sounding rough and distorted by the helmet. I let out a little sigh while slowly raising my hands to show they were empty.

“I stitched up your leg.” I said calmly, “I didn’t touch the helmet.”

There was a moment of silence, I could tell he was complicating what to do next. I was quiet, looking ahead to avoid any quick moments startling him. The gun was still firmly pressed into my ribs but his grip around my neck seemed to loosen ever so slightly.

“Why?” He asked, some confusion seeping into that rough voice. I really didn’t an answer that didn’t seem insulting. A few moments stretched on until he pressed the gun into my ribs a little more which sparked some mild pain into my ribs. That tiny bit of pain seemed to break my filter.

“You made me think of a stray dog.” I blurted out and instantly regretted it. Welp, he’s going to kill me and honestly. Fair enough, that was a dumbass thing to say. I help my breath, preparing for the pain of the gunshot but it never came. The weight pressed into my back suddenly pulled away and the gun was so longer jabbed into my side. Looking over my shoulder, I watched the knight slowly backing away from me; The gun still raised up and pointing at me. The helmet made his expression impossible to read, I stared at him as he ever so slowly backed away. Limping on his hurt leg.

“I uh- I’m not a doctor so you should get your leg checked by an actual doctor.” I mumbled while looking him up and down. His helmet flicked over to the door to the back room, and he started limping to the back door, the gun trained on me, but a strange sound came out of the helmet. A huff? Was it a huff? A laugh? The sound was distorted by the helmet so I couldn’t really tell.

As with a very quick moment, he slipped out of the office and disappeared into the still dark clinic. Huh. Well, that went much better than I expected. I listened out for the sound of the knight climbing out the window he broke, leaving me standing so very confused in my clinic.

—

“You made me think of a stray dog.”

Those words repeated in his head over and over. It had been a very long time since someone had shocked him with just some words. He’d been on edge ever since he climbed through the window of the clinic, the sterile smell and look of the place set his nerves on fire. Those memories of the asylum threatening to spill over, that panic only made worst when that bat swung into the shelf making the echoing metal trill. Oh boy. Now that did cause a wave of panic to rush over him. He moved back trying to create as much distance between him and whoever was swinging for him.

Only to be met face to face with you.

You. The memories of his childhood flashed through his mind in a few quick moments. Memories that often haunted him in his time in Arkham. No- they comforted him. No- Well, it was a bit of both honestly. Memories of a much softer times. Not tainted by the joker and batman. A place where Jason could hide away from the pain even if it was just for a moment.

He almost thought he had finally cracked and gone insane as he stared up at you down the barrel of the gun. You’ve really gone up nice, even with the shocked and slightly fearful expression. Jason felt that blinding panic fade from his body and the mere sight of you, along with all of his strength as he fell unconscious.

Jason wouldn’t actually shoot you. Never. Not you but he needed answers. What you knew. A pit in his stomach formed that he wasn’t used to when threatening most with violence, but he didn’t really have time to unpack that when your words shocked his brain into- a reboot.

“You made me think of a stray dog.”

Huh. Ok. That- huh.

You really haven’t change. Jason found himself strangely comforted by that, but your self preservation skills worried him greatly. Jason had to remind himself to push all of those feelings down. Refocus. Remember whats important.

You seemed to be doing good. That’a good. Good.

—

I had to put a tarp over the broken window, grumbling in irritation the whole while as I had to stand on a stool to reach the very top of the tall ass window. I grumbled while glancing over to the door as Mary unlocked the front door and stepped inside. “Oh, hello” She said while looking me up and down with a raised eyebrow.

“What happened?” She asked cue a very intense train of thought. Do I admit the truth and get scolded for what was an extremely stupid decision or lie? I’m bad at lying.

“Uh.” I said, just staring at Mary. “You’ll yell at me if I’m honest.” She narrowed her tried eyes at me.

“Did you break it yourself?” She asked and I shook my head in response. Mary let out a deep tried sigh before taking a sip of the coffee cup she was holding in her hand. It was a very long sip. I shuffled a little before climbing down from stool.

“I’ll ask again in an hour.” Mary walked past me into the back room. Honestly- not the worst.

“Why is there blood on the floor in here!?” Maru screeched from the backroom. Ah fuck.

It didn’t take to long to explain what happened. Mary was across the table from me pitching the bridge of her nose, face scrunched up. I tapped my shoes on the ground while just watched the older woman scowl.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah.”

“So. You not only didn’t call the police of the masked man who broke in but stitched up his leg? because the big scary man reminded you of a stray dog?”

“…Yeah. In my defence- he reminded of that grumpy stray pit bull? The one that came to us with his muzzle tapped up?” I tried to defend myself, but I could see Mary’s will to live slowly seeping out of her body.

“You’re going to be the death of me one day.” Mary sighed while standing up, “Just- you don’t have a shift today so just- go home.”

“Really- Mary I don’t mind-” I started to speak before she pointed at me.

“Go home.” She deadpanned.

Like I was told, I made my way up to my apartment. Rubbing a hand over my face while I felt the exhaustion of the night before catching up to me, muscles aching while I came down from the adrenaline rush. Dropping down on the bed, not even bothering to change my clothes as I dropped down on to the bed. Shoving my face into the pillow.

Sleep pretty quickly caught up with me. I wasn’t sure how long I slept for when I finally did wake up, glancing over to my window which had sunlight streaming in through the window. I blinked a few times in the- early afternoon light? Pulling myself up from the bed, rubbing my hands and letting out a tried groan.

After a few moments, I noticed something. My window was left slightly open, there was a small box on the desk by the window that was littered with old pictures and trinkets I collected over the years. I frowned while walking over to the desk before picking up the box. There was a little note on the box, ‘Sorry for the window, thank for the leg.’

The box had a- large amount of cash inside. Did the- Arkham Knight leave money when I was sleeping? A few emotions rushed through me. It was kinda creepy knowing the Arkham Knight was so close and I wasn’t aware that he was so close but- he took the time to leave money for the window? Huh. That’s kinda sweet?

I didn’t know how to feel about this.

[cherryblossomshadow]

#it often feels like parts of the gnc queer community will be like “you're not doing GNC right” #and I'm like “Other people put me here” (tags courtesy of @myfootyrthroat)

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If gender is a performance, it is possible and not like, immoral to just be unskilled or bad at performing your gender (quote from above)

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Some of them will also be 100% straight too. The same applies, and yes, this is a good thing. Gender roles strangle us all, and hanging so much on what is just stereotypes is not helpful and is directly harmful to all of us. (comment courtesy of @stealth-liberal)

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Queer the cis/trans binary (comment courtesy of @zexreborn)

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a lot of ppl don't seem to get that trans/queer acceptance means not being special. it means not being able to clock someone cuz like, yeah they've got blue hair and pronouns, but they might just be some chill cis dude. it means the erasure of identifiers as distinctly identifying. and thats a good thing, get with it (comment courtesy of @tornad001)

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I can never really articulate why I hate it when people suggest "well maybe you're nonbinary" but this gets at some of it

something something, a narrowing of the accepted ways of being a man/woman, and then you get forced into some stupid third non-category instead (comment courtesy of @brighterflowers)

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Thank you for saying this.

The only person who can say if you are trans is you. This means the only person who can tell another person if they’re trans is them! Even if you feel you lack an obstacle to seeing things that they have, there is no situation in which you are the right one to make this call.

Additionally: supporting questioning properly means you celebrate someone completely regardless of their identity. If they land on trans, they’re unique and wonderful in their transness - and if they land on cis, they’re STILL unique and wonderful in their cisness! Their gender is still something to celebrate and love, and it’s still unique to them! We cannot perform the work of liberation without the goal being to love people for exactly who they are, not who anyone else hopes they will be - including us. (comment courtesy of @neophyte-no1)

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if a cis dude wants boobs and to still be a cis dude that is 100% his right.

If a cis girl wants a dick and to still be a cis girl that’s 100% her right.

If a cis dude doesn’t want a dick and to still be a cis dude that’s 100% his right.

If a cis girl wants no boobs at all and to still be a cis girl that’s 100% her right.

And so on, and so forth, across any and all things. Yes, even that one.

Total gender anarchy for all. (comment courtesy of @swiftrunnerfelidae)

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literally feel like trans ppl loop all the way around to enforcing hegemonic gender roles sometimes #saying that a masculine woman is secretly a trans guy isnt progressive its literally age old misogyny #let people tell you when they are ready if theyre trans but making blanket statements about gnc people being eggs is icky like #wow how progressive you think a cis man who likes the color pink or has long hair or is quiet isnt actually a man #this literally drives me insane (tags courtesy of @ked-r)

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actually stop calling people eggs #you can do it after they've come out #but until then you dont know if they're actually trans #and you're potentially just doing more harm by pushing them into an identity they dont identity with (tags courtesy of @tumblersleftboob)

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Fully agree, I've met multiple cis lesbians who want mastectomy/top surgery for personal reasons. But go further, what if a confidently cisgender man preferred the idea of himself with a vulva/vagina for whatever personal reason, just didn't feel connected to his penis…. I genuinely can't think of a reason he shouldn't be allowed to make the informed choice to have a vaginoplasty, or the inverse with a cisgender woman and phalloplasty.

We were all born with a body, it is yours, whether it's tattoos or body mods, or genital harmonisation surgeries, you should be able to do what you like with it. (comment courtesy of @garden-of-varda)

Frankly an ideal world is one where the dividing boundaries between trans and cis ceased to exist. Everyone is free to mod their bodies and their personal gender expression however they like, and no one questions it if someone chooses to be something other than what they were born as. You're you, however you choose to express that. (comment courtesy of @yay855)

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This is exactly why Finnster ISN'T transphobic, he's a cis straight man who fucks gender conformity hard and he is our FRIEND. He has never once "cosplayed being trans" and he says straight on hes cis het. (comment courtesy of @steviemamaoftheupsidedown-blog)

If your goal is to normalize gender-nonconformity you’re gonna have to accept that some people will fuck with gender as hard as they can while still being unequivocally, 100% cis and that is okay. There’s no egg to crack or callout to write. This is a good thing actually.

[ladykailitha]

Share With Me One Love, One Life Time Part 3

Hey, guys! We are moving right along with this story, and I think we're gonna hit 8 chapters if everything goes to plan. Fingers crossed!

So much happens in this chapter, like sooo so much it would take as long listing it as it would for you to just read it.

Enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2

~

Steve was on the walkie talkies as much as he could spare when they weren’t looking into the issue of Vecna, he didn’t want Eddie to feel like they’d forgotten him.

Nancy had gone to Wayne first thing in the morning.

“Mr. Munson?” she asked timidly. “I’m Nancy Wheeler.”

“Ah,” Wayne said dryly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back. “I don’t have my shot gun or you’d be facing its double barrel, I’m afraid. I know what you did to Steve, you and I aren’t gonna get cozy anytime soon.”

Nancy winced. “Yeah, I know. But I’m here about Eddie.” She inched forward, nervously picking at her fingernails.

Wayne glared at her and took a step back. “Dr. Owens has already been in touch and I’ve been forcibly removed from my home. They think this another Upside Down fuckery.”

“Yeah,” she said, looking at the ground. “Steve and Eddie sent me because if the police or anyone else are watching you, then it won’t link back to them. They’ll just see some nosy Parker hoping to get her first big scoop.”

Wayne licked his lips nice and slow. “I can see sense in that, I suppose. So my boy is safe?”

“Yes,” Nancy said quickly. “But with the cops thinking he did it, I don’t know how long that’s going to be true.”

“My boy didn’t do that,” Wayne growled. “He wouldn’t. He’s not in league with whatever is doing this and you best remember that.”

“I don’t think he had anything to do with it either,” she hastened to reply. “We know what people look and act like when they’re being controlled and he doesn’t display any of the symptoms.”

Wayne eyed her suspiciously and then nodded curtly. “What are you next moves?”

~

“No.”

Robin and Nancy looked at each other in shocked anger.

“Are you suggesting that we would need a big tough guy to go to a psychiatric hospital?” Robin sneered.

Wayne crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying. Because what happens if he attacks one of you before the orderly can get to him? Say oops, when he snaps one of your necks?”

Nancy started stammering and um’ing and ah’ing while Robin stared at him wide eyed and in shock. Steve pursed his lips and waved at Wayne, indicating he had a point.

“If you’re not going to listen to me,” he huffed, “maybe you’ll listen to him. Because honestly that’s only the worst case scenario, but the others aren’t much better. What happens if you get caught?”

“Well,” Nancy huffed as she scrambled for an answer, “I mean...it’s worked for us in the past.”

“You’re not going and that’s final,” Wayne growled. “I don’t care if that’s how you always do things before, you’re not doing them now. I get your lot is all that is standing between the end of the world, but we’re going to do things the smart way and not blunder into the right thing by accident.”

Steve smiled and relaxed. He still cared about Nancy and Robin was his best friend, the thought of them talking to that man without help sent shivers down his spine.

“So what’s going to happen is this,” Wayne continued, “Robin and Steve will keep an eye on Max and the other kids, while Nancy and I head to Pennhurst. Is that clear?”

Robin nodded, feeling relieved. She would have gone with Nancy if she was asked to, because someone needed to keep an eye on her. But with Wayne going with her, that was a load off everyone’s shoulders.

Nancy chewed on her lip, she didn’t want anyone to get in her way, and she had deliberately picked Robin because she knew the other girl would do as she said. But judging from the way Wayne was glaring at her, he had figured her out.

“Fine.”

~

“You can’t keep me here,” Max huffed, “in this basement that smells of sweaty boys and old socks.”

“Yes I can,” Steve snapped back. “I don’t want you running off where we can’t see you and have you up and die on us!”

“I’ll call my lawyer!” Max hissed. “So either you drive me or I start walking!”

Steve closed his eyes and then buried his head in hands. He didn’t want to do this. Billy didn’t deserve the letter she was going to read to him. He still had his in his back pocket and he had no intention of reading the thing because they were going to save her. They had to.

He yanked open the car door. “Everyone in!”

Lucas got in first and scooted to the middle as Robin and Max flanked him, Dustin having beaten them to the front seat.

~

They drove out to the cemetery and parked as close as he could to Billy’s grave. He rubbed his chin as he waited.

“If you don’t shut up,” he finally growled at Dustin, who was being a little shit, “I’ll knock out those brand new pearly whites of yours.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Dustin huffed, turning to face Steve with furrowed brows. “Too far!”

“Then you knock it off,” Steve snapped back. “I don’t know what has gotten into you lately, but holy hell the lack of respect coming from that side of the car is immense right now.”

Dustin rolled his eyes as Steve turned his attention back to Max. “That’s it, I’m calling.” He shoved the car door open and slammed it shut.

Lucas was out of the car in a flash. “She said to give her time.”

“I don’t care,” Steve huffed. “It’s been long enough.” He stalked across the cemetery lawn, passed the other tombstones.

He reached her and whirled her around, but gasped when he saw her eyes had gone milky white. “Shit!” He shook her shoulder. “Max! Max!”

Dustin, Lucas, and Robin all came dashing over.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Lucas screamed as Max started to rise into the air. He jumped on her to try and keep her on the ground, but she rose with him attached to her legs.

Steve pushed Dustin toward the car. “Get Wayne and Nancy on the walkie-talkie! We need to know what they found out now!”

Dustin scrambled to do as he was told. Lucas tumbled to the ground and let out a pained cried, Robin rushed to his side.

“Hey, you okay?” she murmured. He nodded, hold his arm. He rubbed it a moment and then stood back on his feet.

“Music!” Dustin screamed. “She needs music!”

Then it was Lucas scrambling for the car, he came back with headphones and a Walkman. He turned the music up as loud as he could. Steve and Robin both grabbed Max’s ankles and dragged her down. Lucas slapped the headphones on her head and turned it down so that they couldn’t hear the music anymore, but that it was still loud enough for Max to hear.

As soon the headphones where on she dropped the rest of the way into Lucas’s waiting arms.

A beat. Then another as they waited.

Max opened her eyes and everyone was sobbing in relief. Dustin immediately replied back to the waiting members of their Party. “She’s safe, she’s safe.”

~

“Steve,” Eddie breathed into the walkie-talkie, panic rising from the pit of his stomach. “Please come in. I’m in trouble.”

“This is Steve,” Steve murmured into his device. “What’s wrong?” The recombined Party stood outside the Creel house, looking for a way in.

“Jason and his goons are outside,” Eddie hissed back. “And they don’t look friendly.”

“Shit!” Steve replied. He turned to the rest of them. “We need someone who can drive to go and get Eddie, Jason is there at the boathouse and he’s trapped.”

“I’m on it!” Wayne said digging out his keys.

“Wait!” Nancy shouted, throwing up her hand to stop him. “Take my car! Your truck will be too recognizable!”

Wayne stared at her for a moment and then tossed her his keys. She tossed him hers. He yanked open the door to her station wagon and sped off.

They all kind of stood there for a moment taking in the absolute terror of Jason coming after Eddie, before Robin broke the silence. “So are we breaking into this joint or what?”

~

Eddie made it out onto the boat in the middle of the lake when Patrick, Jason, and Andy came after him. They were about three feet from shore when Wayne pulled up in Nancy’s station wagon. He popped open the glove box and rolled his eyes. Inside was a revolver, with a sigh he pulled out and checked the rounds.

Fully loaded.

“I might like her a little bit,” he muttered as he hopped out of the car and ran up to the water.

“You boys best not be doing what I think you’re doing,” he growled and cocked the gun, the sound loud and clear on the open water. “I’mma gonna give you to the count of five to turn around, nice and slow.”

Jason and Andy turned around as they were told, but Patrick had kept going and had gotten about halfway to Eddie when he started rising in the air.

“Shit!” Wayne hissed as the boys turned around and saw their friend plunge into the water as if by some unseen force. Which considering this Vecna son of a bitch, was more than accurate.

Andy and Jason ran back into the water and Wayne dived into the open door of Nancy’s station wagon and turned up the radio as loud as it could go.

But it was too late. Patrick shot out of the water again and his limbs twisted unnaturally; the sound of them snapping would haunt Wayne for the rest of his days. Eddie started screaming and he scrambled back in the boat in terror, but he went too far and fell into the water.

“God damn it!” Wayne cursed and ran out to the water, but before he could even get to the shore, Patrick dropped like a stone.

“Shit!’ he cursed again.

Jason started screaming about the devil and how he had come to Hawkins, while Andy actually dove into the water to get their slain friend.

“Cal’s gonna kick my ass for this,” he groused, then hauled off and smacked Jason hard across his face.

Jason stopped screaming , staring at Wayne in wide-eyed shock, holding his cheek.

“Do something useful and go into the house and call the cops,” he snarled, “while I help your friend here bring the body to shore.”

Jason hurried to do what he was told and Wayne waded out to the water to help Andy bring Patrick’s body in.

~

“Wayne...” Calvin Powell growled when he saw him sitting on the hood of Nancy’s car, picking at his nails.

“I’m gonna protect my boy,” Wayne said without looking up from his hands. “And those other boys were gonna kill him.”

Powell turned slowly to Jason and Andy who refused to look at him.

“Was that what you were going to do, boys?” he asked raising an eyebrow. “Or is Mr. Munson overreacting?”

Wayne snorted. “If they were planning on bringing him to justice then why didn’t they call police when there was talk of activity up here? Because that’s why I’m here. I heard the same god damn thing.”

Powell pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily.

“You boys are coming with me,” he said, resigned. “To give your statements about Patrick McKinney’s death to start and then we’ll see about the other thing.”

“I’ll give you my statement,” Wayne said dryly, “but you try to stop from trying to find my boy, you and I are gonna tangle, Cal.”

Powell opened his mouth to argue, but knew it was futile. “Fine.”

He looked over at Wayne and then frowned. “Where’s your truck, Wayne?”

Wayne hopped off the station wagon’s hood and patted it fondly. “Nancy Wheeler was wanting to write about the murder and my boy when I heard some of the neighbors talking about lights on up at the Lipton place. So I wanted to go see if it was Eddie and wouldn’t you know it the damn truck wouldn’t start so Nancy let me take her car.”

Powell nodded, but wisely said nothing. He let Wayne get into the car and drive off, before he turned to the other boys.

“We’re going to stay put until the coroner arrives,” he said pointing back and forth between Jason and Andy, “and then you are going to follow me to the station where you are going to tell me everything!”

~

Tag List: EIGHT SLOTS REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @beelze-the-bubkiss @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @themoonagainstmers

9- @steddieislife @chaotic-waffle

[sephirthoughts]

Sephiroth's Weight

I have been thinking about this a lot today none of your business is why and I have come to a conclusion, based on 100% scientific facts, solid evidentiary support, and total delusion: Sephiroth weighs, at the very least, 400 lbs.

I don't want to bog us down in too much scientific terminology, but that is what all of us here in the research lab refer to as a "brick shithouse" of a man.

Evidence, you say? Factual support, you demand? This is my lab who are you to make demands! But I do actually have some.

So, according to a bunch of fitness websites, the ideal weight for a 6'7" dude would be 270 lbs. However, men with a more muscular physique, such as bodybuilders, tend to weigh quite a bit more.

This is Dutch actor and tallest bodybuilder in the world, Olivier Richters, for context. He is 7'2" and weighs 350lbs.

And here is totally shredded hunk of 100% certified bio-engineered beef Sephiroth, who clocks in at between 6'7" and 7'0" (by the remake character models, not the outdated and poorly translated old guides).

We know he's slightly shorter than Olivier, and as we can see, he is a bit leaner, but not by a whole damn lot. So, why do I say he must weigh substantially more?

Two words: Ho-jo. That's right, these Hojo-made super-soldiers are built tough as fuck. Even normal humans increase their bone density with regular exercise, and these guys basically live to work out. They are constantly in training or war, lift huge amounts of weight, sustain extreme impacts of all kinds, and cut missiles in half with swords.

No amount of increased muscle strength would matter a damn, if your tissues and bones couldn't handle the extraordinary strain, so it stands to very good reason that due to the genetic fuckery and the mako treatments, their muscle and bone density is much higher than a regular human's. How much higher? How the hell would I know, I'm not a boneologist.

That's why my scientifically magnificent and flawlessly researched rough estimate is around 400 lbs for Sephi, at the very least. Am I right? Maybe. Am I fixating on a detail no one else cares about? Probably. Was this entire post an excuse to post a bunch of shirtless pictures of Sephiroth? WHAT ARE YOU THE COPS?

Anyway, here are some more shirtless pictures of Sephiroth.

[convoloutedinjoke]

I understand what youre saying but "a demilitarised, non funded citizens militia allowed to self govern one ruined city." makes me trust their motives less, not more. Same for Pryce being old enough to remember the good old days.

I fully admit that I neither have much knowledge about the real world stuff that inspired DE, and have a pretty loose grasp on the lore itself, but my gut feeling is that Pryce remembering a time where the militia wasn't nerfed + The moralintern having banned automatic weapons + no budget + the taxes I assume revachol pays to the moralintern at the moment + a bid for self-governance including the re-allocation of those resources to an as yet to be created governing body = a world where the cops literally become a militarised state body at least for a while, and I'm not a fan.

As someone else pointed out in a different reblog, "genuine revolutionary sentiments" was not the best choice of words. As the same person pointed out, "revolutionary" is a value neutral term. Similarly, I shouldn't have said "the RCM" as a unit when its clear that at least some of the RCMs officers do want revachol to be self-governing for reasons unrelated to their own personal power. What I meant was that I don't think whatever revolution the higher ups in the RCM are interested in is one that will make their area of governance less oppressive. I am hopeful that whatever happens, as you say, reignites interest in a peoples revolt, but I don't think thats what is being planned for.

its interesting to see people read the last esprit de corps check as an expression of the RCM having genuine revolutionary sentiments. like I dont think the cops want out from under the moralinterns thumb for the same reasons as the average person lol.

[jarmes]

The amount of people immediately calling the arrest of Luigi Mangione a frame job is worrying, because it shows how easy Qanon level conspiratorial bullshit is to fall into, even on the left. It stems solely from people’s want for the shooter to still be free, thus, they have concluded in spite of overwhelming evidence that he is still free, because the world would be a better place if he was. Except, that isn’t how reality works. Wanting something doesn’t make it true.

“But he was too smart to be caught!”

No, the cops are just dumb and took a while to find him. Don’t forget, he took his mask off on camera while hitting on a hostel worker. There is no evidence that the shooter was a hyper intelligent super criminal. Killing people is easy

“But the gun and manifesto could have been planted!”

I agree, police do frame people, but that does not mean that every single case is a frame job, regardless of evidence. Do you know why I find the idea of the manifesto being planted to be unlikely? Because he’s currently negotiating bail in court and hasn’t mentioned the gun of manifesto being planted. If the police planted a confession on me, do you know what I would do? Say they planted it! If Mangione isn’t saying that it was planted, why are you assuming it was? Now, it is possible that he is just a guy who looks like the shooter and happened to be carrying a gun and a manifesto. That’s possible, if unlikely. That’s why he deserves a fair trial. That doesn’t mean there’s a vast hidden conspiracy to frame him

“But he doesn’t match the profile!”

Actually I think a guy who broke his back, was left in excruciating pain and forced to deal with health insurance fuckery, then dropped off the grid for six months is exactly the type of person who would should a health insurance ceo

Luigi Mangione, assuming he is the shooter, is a hero who should be venerated. It is a shame he was caught. That does not mean that the truth has become meaningless and that he hasn’t been caught because you don’t want him to have been

Conspiratorial thinking is a poison that destroys your brain and turns you into a fascist. You must resist it, even when it would benefit you for a conspiracy to be true. The truth matters, even in the face of horror