#he's president carrot

[lady-bizarre]

DUDE

[bevioletskies]

gemini & fourth (in every universe) ↳ li ming vs. gun vs. atom + wearing their boyfriend's shirt

“Oh, please. Look at the color. I’m not wearing it. It’s too sweet.”

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

Mr. Walz

Featuring Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz

Back in the late ‘90s, Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, and now Vice President Kamala Harris’ running mate, was a high school teacher and football coach in rural Minnesota. I attended Mankato West from 2000-2004, having Walz for 11th grade history. Being gay at the time, I initially expected to hate Walz, because he was a football coach and a hunter. But he was accepting and really friendly with me; with everyone really. He’s genuinely the goofy teacher that was in the hallway greeting every kid every morning, giving high fives and fist bumps. He and his wife, also a teacher at the school, provided vital support during my formative years. And to be honest, I thought he was cute.

He was in his late 30s and about 21 years my senior at that time, about my height, which is just shy of five foot-nine. He was chiselled like most middle-aged men with a gut. He dressed conservatively, usually a short sleeve solid colored shirt with a tee shirt under it and trousers which seemed to be a few sizes too small. I couldn’t help but find myself staring at his tightly held manhood, which showed a clear outline of his thick cock. That bulge had me daydreaming during our meets and school outings. I would jerk-off with this image in my mind every night.

After graduation, I didn’t see my ex-teacher again until I attended a campaign dinner in Falcon Heights, Minnesota. He instantly recognized me, smiling broadly and gave me a big hug. We’re talking 20-something years ago, and to have your 10th-grade geography teacher remember you after all of that time, it means something. I couldn’t call him Gov. Walz, because he will forever be Mr. Walz.

We talked a bit then, and a couple times throughout the evening. He asked me about what I was up to, if I was dating, the usual chit chat. I was so giddy to see Mr. Walz that I confessed that I had a crush on him in high school. I told him I thought about him every night when I jack off. How I use a big carrot up my ass, and pretend it was his dick. And I told him I knew he would never like me, that way, but I had to tell him.

Surprisingly, he suggested I should come over to his hotel, later, placing his hotel room card on the edge of the sink right next to me.

"Wait here, I'll have an agent escort you to my room in an hour." He said before leaving. I looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but no one had, so I quickly grabbed the key.

Sure enough, an hour later, a secret service agent escorted me to his hotel. The journey upstairs was unbearable. Reporters to dodge, people for the agent to nod away. By the time I got to Mr. Walz’s room, I was afraid he’d think I wasn’t’ interested, but when I entered the room, he was ready and waiting. The lights were dim, Mr. Walz was in a hotel bathrobe, and he’d ordered porn on the television.

"Is this what you really want?" I asked.

"More then anything." He replied.

I made the first move, leaning in to kiss him and as soon as our lips met, his arms went around me. Quickly, he started unbuttoning my shirt, unzipping my pants, and basically tearing my clothes off as he moved his tongue around inside my mouth. His hand was on my hard dick, feeling and testing the size.

"Oh, yeah." He moaned, as he ran his hand down my tender, sensitive cock before squatting.

With his mouth at my crotch, he ran his tongue up all seven inches, before gently pushing me towards the bed. On the bed, our bodies melded into one. His hard dick was teasing mine, as once again, our tongues found the other's mouth. Hands everywhere, as we hugged and rocked each other. Kissing my way down his chest, I left a trail of saliva all the way to his cock. Taking him in my mouth, I began to suck while I swirled my tongue around his boner before he started thrusting into my throat, making me gag. I guess he got pretty turned on by what I was doing to him as he turned me around and put us into 69 position.

As Mr. Walz took my dick in his mouth, I took his dick in mine. I worked on it with such skill that he began moaning deep inside his throat as he sucked my dick. And he could really suck; he knew how to please a man. I began to feel him starting to breathe rapidly and shake. I knew he was going to explode soon. I was getting close as well.

Wanting Mr. Walz to fuck me, I quickly seperated, and rolled off the bed leaving him laying there completely naked with a huge hard-on. Hurrying to my pants, I pulled a tube of lubrication out of his pocket before I bounded back to the bed. After telling him I wanted him to fuck me, I tensely watched as Mr. Walz applied the lubricate to his cock, knowing the pain I was about to feel. I couldn’t help but thinking back to my high school years when I first saw him. I had always wanted Mr. Walz to fuck me since then. Now was the time.

“You got a nice tight asshole.” Mr. Walz told me as he rubbed some of the KY onto my asshole.

He lifted my legs and stared me straight in the eyes as he guided the head of his cock to my ass. As soon as his dick made contact, he immediately thrust all 8 inches into me. I gasped loudly, so loudly in fact that I’m sure the people in the next room heard.

“I’m going to really open up your asshole.” Mr. Walz called out with a wicked smile on his face as he slowly started fucking me.

Noticing each time the fat head of his cock passed my hard prostate, pre-cum would squirt from the tip of my dick. He reached down and scooped it up with his finger, brought it to his mouth and licked it clean.

"Oh, man, that's good." He said, as he scooped up more, but I pulled his finger to his mouth, and sucked it in.

We smiled at each other before he leaned forward and kissed me deep, our tongues caressed each other, sharing my pre-cum. Then as we kissed he sent his cock plunging deeper into me. I arched my back as I was forced to take more cock deeper into my ass than ever before.

“Yes, fuck me, Mr. Walz.” I found myself saying when he broke our embrace, “Give it to me, Mr. Walz. Make me yours!”

And he did just that. Mr. Walz started fucking me hard and fast. I took each of the strokes of his his old manhood willingly. I wanted to give him total pleasure and I could tell from the far away look in his eye that the old man was as lost in me as I was in him. I knew he was getting close, and I didn’t want to stop him, so I didn’t say a word about pulling out. Having only had sex with his wife for all those years, he didn’t think of it either. Soon he was filling my ass with ropes of cum, and I felt it filling me up.

After we got off and caught our breath, he looked at me and we both started laughing and telling each other how glad we were that we'd just met up today.

[melancholicstation]

FRAT!JACK SCHLOSSBERG SFW AND NSFW HEADCANONS

imagining COLLEGE SWEETHEART!READER who loves the outdoors, is the best in her harvard polo team, is a criterion channel SNOB, spencer hasting's archetype, vacations in miami, aspen, ibiza and saint tropez, is the president of many student clubs, buys hermēs blankets for the dogs kennel blanket and keeps an elegant stack of erotic, cheesy novellas under her .

tags: @obsessedwithjohnjr @candyneckl6ce @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123 @absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl @chemicalw0rld @remotewatch @starsprangledgirl

fyi: I have not edited this nor looked over it too closely so if there's spelling/grammar mistakes je m'excuse please!!

you cross each other's paths at institut le rosey in year 13 because you guys are unfortunately wealthy teenagers of highly successful family dynasties so it'd be sacrilegious to go anywhere else... where else would they go to get their educational chops that they can brag about at dinner parties?

super rich kids by frank ocean is both of your respective spotify wrapped no.1 song

you guys don't formally meet until harvard law school

always immediately goes to you for any fraternity parties where they need to be all gussied up for it and whines until you do his makeup... and of course he wants you to use your expensive chanel, byredo, chantecaille make up

jack uses your own la perla thongs as bookmarks to keep track of a certain page in a law textbook when studying at your place cause he left all his stationary at home

when you both found each other you guys were both in your slut era and weren't looking for anything serious

tries to make you beef tartar in the confines of your tiny dorm like this one chick on tiktok does in her bed

after a couple days of not seeing each other jack comes back with little gifts and trinkets cause he has the instinct to gather in his bones, baby!

you both eat like a 17th century king despite being college students

classes were cancelled for a day due to a particularly aggressive blizzard that sought to reek havoc on anyone in its path--or in this instance trying to get to their econ major on time for once so you two are held up in your dorm end up watching 'secretary' (2002), one thing leads to another and you and jack's have ended up recreating this scene except jack is lee... and the saddle is an old hermēs vivace jumping saddle that you got for an early christmas present one year back (something like this) and the carrot is slightly dirty cause its been in your farmers market tote since your last run to whole foods... but you both enjoy it all the same cause you guys are F.R.E.A.K.I.S.H.

he has a very intense samurai sword obsession to the point where his dorm closet holds all the medals he won for the best sword in local competitions... and gets extremely territorial if you want a drawer in his closet cause where are the synthetic fabric medals supposed to go??

always buys you lingerie whenever ssense has a sale

you both buy each other maison margiela shoes for a joint graduation present from law school

you both always have a ritual of buying mint and lavender lemonade at different harvard athletic games

you guys broke up briefly during mid term hell-week and you genuinely observed him re-connecting with nature in the harvard yard to ease his anguish

you guys practice parenthood by adopting a few sylvanian families and putting them in a house

your matching boat n' totes (top: yours bottom: jack)

on holiday break from college you guys go on so many sketchy facebook marketplace hunts to the point where jack films with his phone just for evidence purposes

your dream that makes you crash out over imessage to jack:

NSFW UNDER THIS CUT 🧵✂️

he definitely wears a hat while you guys are fucking making beautiful sensual love

foreplay is stimulating conversations with jack

as foreplay you make jack recreate that one cmbyn timothee chalamet scene with the peach

eroticising studying and giving each other orgasms when you've memorised a topic correctly

two beers at a beer garden and you guys are in each others pants immediately. stat!

they are delicately perverted

he loves giving you some clavicle kisses... like that is his shit!

jack loves to be lightly tapped with the hermēs crop but he'd never admit it what?? who said that??

[bootleg-nessie]

Things that will happen in the future (based on my own experiences with time travel):

***FAQs at the end***

*All of these observations are copied directly from my notes in roughly the order I took them in

*Don’t ask about the interchanging use of past/present/future tense, you know how that stuff is with time travel

Women just started all growing three boobs instead of two. Scientists baffled

Genetically engineered catboys (no literally)

The great pyramid of Giza has been converted into a Bass Pro Shop

The entire state of Rhode Island was bought by some rich tech CEO who promptly dug a 500 foot wide trench around the entire state so that it could in fact be an island. It was soon converted into the world’s largest parking lot

Pollution has gotten so bad that fresh oxygen is now delivered straight to most homes via a subscription service

Basic necessities such as food, water, and housing are now provided for free by the government, but only for the top 1% of wealth holders

Insulin now costs twice as much as rent. “Get fucked,” say pharma companies

92.6% of new electronic appliances now have smartphone integration and require a monthly subscription to use

Most billionaires have real estate on earth’s moon

As an ongoing film experiment, Taika Waititi successfully convinced a Nebraska man that he’s been raptured and is now in heaven. He actually got Truman Show’d and now millions of viewers tune in every week to watch God (played by John DiMaggio) manipulate Robert into confronting his own views, battle cognitive dissonance, and face the realization that he might not have been as good of a person on Earth as he thought he was

Carrots have gone extinct, as have highland cows

Species of extinct animals and plants now are being posthumously renamed after the billionaires and elites most directly responsible for killing then off

Researchers discovered a sentient colony of fungus off the coast of Chile, it prefers to go by Fleebo and appears to have a incredibly complex intelligence far greater than any other observed organic being

Nobody knows where Ireland went. It literally just disappeared off the face of the earth one day and nobody bothered to question it. The story couldn’t compete in the news cycle with the recent news about a company in China that made the first real life pokemon. An entire civilization of people gone and I’m the only one who seems to remember it or even care

Fleebo and its offspring have annexed Madagascar and are threatening any retaliation with nuclear warfare and “making The Last of Us a reality.” Nobody knows if Fleebo actually has the capabilities to do this, but after the Lovecraft incident we’re all TOO goddam scared to fuck around and find out

Large snails have replaced cats and dogs as the most common household pet. Snail culture has largely taken over the world, especially Japan

The president of the United States is now decided with an oiled up twerking competition. Most people were hesitant at first but this has produced vastly more competent leaders so now everyone just kinda goes along with it

With the cost of living crisis only worsening with time, selling tattoo space on your body to advertisers has become common as people struggle to afford rent and pay their bills

North and South Korea have reunited into “Korea 2.0”

Germany has split up into East and West Germany again

Belgium and France have been annexed by West Germany and renamed “Wester Germany” and “Westest Germany” respectively

The entirety of Florida is now underwater. Most of Kansas is too for some reason that scientists refuse to explain because they’ve “sworn an oath to the eldritch gods” and that “much worse things would happen” if they did

The melting ice caps in Antarctica unveiled a lost civilization of intelligent creatures descended from a species of lungfish, predating human civilization by millions of years. They planned on hibernating for another 10-15 million years to observe the course of evolution on Earth and are very very angry at humans for waking them up prematurely and ruining all of that with global warming

The politically correct term for lungfish people is “Dipnoid” but most people refer to them by a variety of slurs, such as “finwalker” and “kelp muncher” (not that they even eat kelp)

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch has now increased to nearly half the size of what was formerly known as Canada and has been colonized entirely by pirates (the flag is actually pretty cool). The pirate nation has the 17th largest economy in the world and is projected to surpass the United States in GDP

Africa is about 2% smaller. Nobody knows why. Most people point to Fleebo, who denies having any involvement

All human-Dipnoid interaction was promptly banned by most world governments, except for the GPGPRP (Great Pacific Garbage Patch Republic of Pirates), whom the Dipnoids rely upon extensively for trade

Scientists have used DNA from fossils to recreate other species of humans. We now live alongside them like we did for thousands of years before everyone besides Homo sapiens went extinct. Racism is at an all time high

Class C and above robots are now legally recognized by most progressive countries as people

The United States government has been exposed for secretly funneling billions of dollars into the GPGPRP and using it to fund terrorist operations all over the world.

A new major religion revolving around Dave Grohl has skyrocketed in popularity. Grohilsm is now the world’s largest religion, second only to Fleeboism

Scientists discovered a new continent in the Pacific Ocean, and then promptly lost it again. Most people are convinced this was just an elaborate practical joke, but scientists “swear it definitely happened”

For a brief period of about 30 years, everything in George Orwell’s 1984 happened almost exactly as written in the book. Literally 1984

It was revealed that Jeff Epstein didn’t kill himself. He actually faked his death and spent the next few years in a drug-fueled episode of psychosis making sock puppets in a cave in Italy and then molesting said sock puppets until he died from a sock puppet related illness

Bigfoot was discovered off the coast of Georgia doing cocaine with a congregation of alligators. When questioned, he said he normally lives in Montana and was only there on vacation. He is now a celebrity, and has been featured in a number of tv shows and films, two of which he won an Oscar for. Last I checked, he was a washed up actor living in Hollywood with a reanimated Neanderthal woman

The GPGPRP raided most of England’s museums with the object of “doing exactly what they did for the last few centuries” England was understandably furious, but the rest of the world found it rather amusing

England declared war on the GPGPRP, which it promptly lost after hackers brought down the entire country’s military overnight. Much like in the 21st century, England is the world’s laughing stock

The entirety of Luxembourg relocated itself to the moon

Russia attempted to take over most of Eurasia. In retaliation to the full global effort to stop them, they launched nukes at the world’s 600 most populous cities outside of its current territory. Most of the warheads were stopped in time, but a few major metropolitan areas got hit pretty badly, including Los Angeles, Hong Kong, Chengdu, Mexico City, and Istanbul. Japan was understandably super pissed that Hiroshima and Nagasaki got nuked for a second time

In the wake of the nuclear holocaust, Canada assumed control over what was formerly Russia and assimilated many of its citizens and leaders into its own society and government. Under the new rule of formerly Russian leaders, Canada became a puppet state for the second coming of Russia. It annexed much of the United States, Mongolia, China, and a handful of other countries, becoming “the world’s first megacountry.” Crungolaska now controls a majority of the northern hemisphere

As part of a practical joke by Adam Sandler, Tom Hanks was actually marooned on a desert island like in Castaway. He lasted less than a week before he died. When I left this era of the future, Adam Sandler was serving a lifetime sentence in prison for murder

Fringe groups of crows with above-average intelligence have started popping up around the world. So far they have been observed forming small communities, crafting relatively complex tools, using rudimentary speech, performing rituals, and creating music

Aliens visited earth and had a formal meeting with many of our world leaders, but decided to leave us alone for a few thousand more years because humanity is “not yet mature enough to handle the responsibilities of interstellar travel.” They have incentivized us with a the blueprints for an Alcubierre Drive and a means to produce the exotic matter to fuel it once they deem us as being ready

The original colony of settlers on Mars has declared independence, officially becoming the first country not on Earth

We sent Tom Cruise back to space but this time we just left him there

The tether for the space elevator broke. The town known as Vatorville, famous for being the location of the takeoff point of the elevator shuttle on Earth, was completely decimated as tens of thousands of miles of steel cable came crashing back down. There were no survivors

Most people in first and second world countries have mandatory microchip implants that serve as a personal ID

Last Thursdayism has been largely denounced by quantum physicists. Current theories now revolve around “Next Thursdayism,” the belief that the entire universe was created in the future and that we all exist as a memory in the past

Synthetic organ farms for transplants and research have become a massive industry worth billions of dollars. However, there is still a huge black market for organically grown human organs, as they’re much cheaper to acquire and aren’t taxed at the exorbitant rates that lab-grown organs are

China dug a hole all the way to the center of the Earth. Turns out it’s hollow and there are people living inside. Who knew?

A university reconstructed the entire city of Rome as it was in its early days during the Roman Empire. It’s actually pretty historically accurate, except for the fact that there’s a lot less sex because it’s run by a bunch of sweaty history nerds

After Rome 2 resulted in the creation of a cult revolving around the Roman god of the dead that gained traction as a minor religion, Pluto was officially reinstated as a planet by NASA when cultists picketed their headquarters every day for nearly 3 years straight. “Fine, we’ll give these fucking virgins what they want so they’ll finally shut the hell up,” said NASA’s administrator in chief

In a display of the biotechnical prowess of Disney’s Imagineers, all the animatronics in Disney’s Hall of Presidents were replaced with clones of the originals, which went about exactly as well as you’d expect. After reports of the presidents hurling a series of racial slurs and other obscenities at the first black family to enter surfaced, the project was shut down almost immediately after it had opened. Minority admission to Magic Kingdom plummeted to 2.3% of its numbers from the previous year, making it the second whitest place on earth after a taylor swift concert

Plastic now makes up about 3% of every organism on earth by weight

Public officials are now required by law to take shrooms before running for office

Trees are considered a rare and highly sought after commodity, and are usually only owned by public institutions and the rich (the vast majority of oxygen farms use algae to produce oxygen)

FAQs:

FAQ: What time period(s) did you go to?

A: I have no fucking clue. The world stopped using the Gregorian calendar in 2063 after a gamma ray burst hit the sun. The GRB led to stellar ablation, which changed the length of a year on Earth. The sun would continue to lose mass at an accelerated rate for several more years, with the length of the year changing slightly from year to year. The world adopted a variety of different calendars which kept being updated frequently and were often super confusing and contradictory. I traveled to about a dozen different points in time, which based on my best estimates spanned within a few millennia of the current date.

FAQ: How did you obtain a time machine?

A: I think it was the 17th or 18th of June, 2055? That night, a large sci-fi looking box thingy roughly the size of a VW Bus appeared a few hundred yards away in the open field in front of my house. I tried to take a picture of the box, but for some reason the closer I got, the more the image on my camera started to become fuzzy, and by the time I got close enough to take a decent picture, the camera had stopped working altogether. I pulled open a door to reveal a corpse inside that was charred beyond recognition, who appeared to have suffocated and/or burned to death during a fire that damaged most of the interior. I also noticed a number of strange tumors and growths on the body. I pressed a random button on the remains of what I believed to be a control panel, expecting nothing to happen, but the door closed automatically and I suddenly lost consciousness. When I came to, I exited the box, expecting to still be in the field in front of my house, but instead found myself a ways outside of a small snowy village that based on my best estimates, was somewhere in northern Asia around 2-3 thousand years ago. The villagers started coming after me with spears, so I quickly ran back to the box and pressed another button, hoping it would return me to from whence I came. This time, the people I found (who were thankfully much nicer and spoke a dialect of English that I could mostly understand) told me that it was the year 506 of the PGRB-Δ4 calendar (the calendar that the United Territories was using at the time). I repeated this maybe a dozen more times trying to get home until I landed in 2023, which as far as I could tell, was the closest I had gotten back to my original time so far. It was at this point that I decided to stay and seek medical attention, as I was rather concerned about some nasty new growths on my arms and legs similar to that which I had seen on the corpse.

FAQ: Where is the time machine now?

A: No idea. It disappeared a few days after I landed in 2023. My best guess is that some poor sap found it and ended up sometime else.

(I never ask for likes/reblogs but I literally spent fucking WEEKS on this one so if you liked it pls show me some love <3)

[foxgirlmoth]

Okay, lets go through this apparent list of positives that Biden is in favor of.

Trans Rights: There have been multiple laws within states to fully close off especially trans kids rights to medical treatments and more. This is extremely current. Biden puts in minimal effort to look like he's doing anything at all for trans and queer rights, and there haven't really been any efforts aside from doing one or two proposals that immediately get shot down, and he's more than okay with that, hence why there's no longer really any push for this shit still. If you're trans, you can't piss in Utah without the risk of getting a fine right now. Even though these are state laws, the fact that there's been nearly zero effort federally to address this besides the title IX rule, speaks a lot about priorities in this area.

Abortion Access: Are we just forgetting the whole Roe V Wade getting overturned thing that happened in 2022? Are you really trying to say that this is good for abortion access? Abortion access has gotten actively worse.

Environmental Reform: Biden has endorsed extreme oil drilling projects and in general oil companies still love him! Not to mention the train crashes which we'll get to later.

Healthcare Reform: Covid-19 is still around and is sadly predicted to stay around for a long while. Healthcare is still private and a competitive field in the US and that causes major issues as well. If you look this up, you see articles titled along the lines of "Biden has lowered the cost of insurance" and meanwhile it just dropped in 2020 once during the pandemic but has been growing in cost.

Prescription Reform: Reading into this, not much has changed, which isn't surprising under genocide Joe. Drugs in the US are still higher than anywhere else in the world, and with healthcare issues still abundant, this is still a big issue.

Student Loan Forgiveness: Student debt is still extremely high in the US, and while Biden has rolled out some plans for forgiveness, it's a fraction of the debt, and he primarily uses the whole thing to win over swing states. This is a dangling carrot that provides very little overall.

Infrastructure Funding: Train crashes from 2020-present, worldwide, but notice the amount of US crashes! Neat! Quite literally just look up train crashes in the US during his presidency, there's too many to link here. It is also important to remember that Biden signed a bill to prevent rail strikes, preventing a lot of pressure to the government and the economy, which would have been a GOOD THING. Seriously, this guy has fucked up our environment and our rights in multiple ways.

Advocating Racial Equity: Structural racism within the US is still a huge problem, Biden hasn't addressed much. Also people are still in cages on the Mexico/US border (Which has been maintained by every president in office since it was established), with a very recent crackdown on the border.

Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion: Just. Look at the racial equity and trans rights sections above. Biden does the bare minimum, loves focusing on swing states, and all around uses the ol' carrot on a stick.

Vaccines and Public Health: Once again look above at sections on healthcare, abortion access, and prescription reform. Its bad. Remember how Covid-19 vaccines aren't being continued for free?

Criminal Justice Reform: This is just structural slavery still. Disproportionate amounts of black people are incarcerated, police are still heavily funded under Biden. He does not care about reforming the justice system, he even supports cops breaking up campus protests! Cool!

Military Support for Israel: Yup! Both sides suck! Biden has a very long history of sure hating Arabic countries though! He's done nothing but ship weapons and participate in the genocide of Palestinian people. Would Trump also do this? Yes. Does this mean this is an issue you should just drop and call a non-issue? No, what the hell are you talking about.

Israel/Hamas Ceasefire: Netanyahu has no plans to accept any actual ceasefire, yet Biden still provides weapons and support. Wow! That sure is weird? I wonder if Biden really cares about a ceasefire or how he just looks publicly.

Biden is not a good president, much less a good human being. You provided such a flimsy chart with zero resources or support behind you, and it just feels like people are just making shit up at this point. Get your heads out of the liberal cesspool you grew up in.

[whygalaxy]

Poor bunny in a golden cage

♡⃕ Relationship} Yandere! Abusive! C!Quackity x Bunny Hybrid! Fem! Reader

♡⃕ Summary} "Quackity was obsessed with you. Your greedy parents beat you to him… What could go wrong?"

♡⃕ TW.} Abusive relationship; Mention of abuse (Physical and Psychological); Non Con explicit; Choking; Sadism; threats; Your parents being jerks; Quackity being extremely abusive; False imprisonment; Mention of stalker; possessive; Dacryphilia; Rough sex; dumbfication; Mild Stockholm syndrome; Mild Size Kink.

♡⃕ Notes} English is not my first language, there may be mistakes. I'm sorry for anything. Not reviewed (Please, it's two in the morning)

This fanfic may not be suitable for sensitive people

You and your parents, a small family of hybrid bunnys, move to Las Nevadas, hoping to find a better living condition. Your parents were constantly arguing recently, as they were poor and wanted to find a new way to earn money.

You sold some carrot cupcakes that you made, in the poorest part of Luxurious City, but it didn't bring in as much profit as your parents would have liked - “300 Dollars a month is a pittance! You can’t buy anything!” Your father screamed, invalidating all your efforts.

୭  🩹 ✧ ˚.  ᵎᵎ  🩸

It was a silent night, and you were here, trying to sell at least half of your carrot cupcakes. You could hear some laughter in the distance, you look around, finding two silhouettes walking towards you.

They keep walking, walking straight past you. "Hang on!" You shout. The men turn to look at you, they were both wearing luxurious clothes, they didn't look like they were from here… The man with long black hair caught your attention.

“W-Wouldn’t you guys.. want to buy a carrot cupcake?… it’s only 10 dollars…” You stutter shyly, looking down, your ears flat against your head. The smaller one seemed excited, dirty with green goo. He runs to the stall, grabs one and quickly hands over the money. He takes a bite, savoring the flavor - “it’s very good, Mrs. Bunny!” He says, sounding like a child, you laugh, finding him adorable.

You could feel the other man's gaze on you, you look at him from the corner of your eye. He had a strange gleam in his eyes… Almost… Scary…

The small man waves at you, walking away. The taller man looked at you for a moment longer, before turning and walking away, without saying a word.

୭  🩹 ✧ ˚.  ᵎᵎ  🩸

It's been a week since you saw the strange man. Your parents were fighting more and more, and this time, they were cursing you too, saying how useless you were and how you didn't make money for them.

But one day… You come home after a long day of selling cupcakes, your parents were strangely quiet… no fighting…

You see them sitting on the couch, a big smile on their faces. How strange… “Honey! My lovely girl!” Your mother says, getting up to hug you, you thought this was strange, your parents weren't that affectionate… Your father gets up too, hugging you - “You will bring great profit to our family!” he says with an awkward smile.

You were confused, I didn't understand what was happening. What were they referring to? You look at both of them confused - “W-What’s going on?…” You ask, completely confused by the situation.

“The President liked you! Then we sell you for 1.5 million!” His mother screams in joy, making his eyes widen. They… Sold you?! What do you mean, how was that possible? They were your parents, they were supposed to love you, not discard you. You could feel your eyes filling with tears.

“I-I… I can’t accept this… I…” You say, trying to move away. But your parents stop you, they couldn't let your merchandise go out like that. Your mother grabs a glass of water, you were too shaken to notice anything. “Drink, darling.. it will help you” She says, handing you the glass, helping you sit on the couch. You drink, but you feel strangely drowsy, your eyes meeting a black blur, and then you collapse onto the couch.

୭  🩹 ✧ ˚.  ᵎᵎ  🩸

You wake up lying down in a comfortable place, your eyes were still blurry, but they quickly adjusted to the light of the place. You sit up, realizing you were on a bed, you look around the room. It was an extremely luxurious room, with shades of gold and red, your eyes widen and shine at the luxurious place you had never seen before.

The room seemed to have some childish tones, with some pink and white touches scattered throughout the room, the bed was full of stuffed animals, mainly rabbits. You get out of bed, trying to explore the room. But as soon as you stand up and take two steps forward, you fall onto the fluffy rug that surrounded the bed. It felt like something was making it impossible for you to walk freely.

You turn around to look at what had made you fall. Your eyes widened, a chain stuck around your ankle, maybe it was the drugs that were in your drink, but you hadn't noticed it before, and it was pretty tight apparently…

You get up, sit on the bed, staring at the big door that was in front of it, your ears pressed against your head, waiting for something to happen… Suddenly, the door opens, your ears quickly perk up.

Your eyes widened when you saw who it was. It was the strange man from that day… Wait, he was the president of this country? He walks up to you, a smile on his face, highlighting the gold tooth he had. You pull away, bumping into the headboard in the process.

He sits on the bed, next to you. He reaches out to caress your cheek, with a gentle smile on his face - “My little bunny… so adorable… you're mine now” He says, his face getting closer to yours, you could feel his breath.

After your first meeting, Quackity felt strangely attracted to you. A shy, small, adorable little thing. So sweet and submissive…it seemed extremely fun to break you.

Quackity chased you for that week, and the more and more he found out about you… the more obsessed he was.

Now you were in this place, totally trapped with this maniac… you didn't know what he had in store for you, and you were afraid of it.

He pulls you closer, stroking your hair. You could hear him whisper - “So beautiful… So small… So… mine”

୭  🩹 ✧ ˚.  ᵎᵎ  🩸

One month… one month you were with this maniac, and the feeling was the same as being in hell.

Cuts and purple marks spread all over your body, Quackity took out all his anger on you. He would hit you and cut you, just for his sadistic pleasure, he loved seeing you crying and screaming. Watching you break down little by little, only to become an empty mind completely submissive to him.

It was currently almost two in the morning, the ticking clock noise could be heard. You were trying to sleep but you couldn't, you had a feeling something bad was going to happen… You were currently lying in bed, wearing only a Quackity shirt that was much bigger than you.

Suddenly, the door opens, revealing Quackity. His white blouse had the first three buttons open, his tie was untied. You could smell alcohol and cigarettes coming from him.

He walks towards you, crooked steps indicating he was drunk. You look at him, completely scared, not knowing what he could do to you, trying to move away, but the chain on your ankle stopped you from going that far.

He sits on the bed, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer to him, your head against his chest. You could feel him smelling your hair - “So sweet…” He whispers in his slightly drunken tone of voice.

You could feel their hands moving over your body. You let out a slight scream when you feel their hands squeezing your ass, you try to move away. He wouldn't do that to you… would he?

He spanks your ass - “Be quiet, be a good girl and accept this. I don’t want to hurt you” His tone of voice was threatening, you were shaking with fear. He pushes you, laying you down on the bed.

He lifts your big shirt that you were wearing, exposing your small breasts, he smiles… You were so cute. He bends down, taking one nipple into his mouth, starting to suck while playing with the other. You moan as his tongue grazes your hard nipple. You scream when you feel him bite your nipple hard, causing tears to run down your eyes.

You could feel him smile, you try to stay quiet, knowing that if you stayed quiet, it would be less worse. He leaves hickey marks on his chest, red and that would probably turn purple later. He forcefully opens your legs, ripping off your panties, clearly out of patience.

He lets out an irritated sigh when he feels that you're not wet for him at all - “I can't believe you're going to make me do this…” He says in a growl. You start to moan softly when you feel his thumb start to rub your clit, and soon one of his fingers enters you, preparing you for his cock.

He was out of patience, trying to finish this as quickly as possible so he could get his cock inside you. One finger soon becomes two, two fingers soon become three. His pace was relentless, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer. You were extremely sensitive, the stimulation on your clit combined with the relentless rhythm of his fingers inside you dragged you closer and closer to your limit.

You scream as you cum, your juices running down his fingers. He smiles, removing his fingers from inside you, taking them to his mouth to taste your juices - “So sweet… So sensitive…” He whispers, starting to take off his clothes. He completely unbuttons his white shirt, the red tie at the sides, he pulls his pants and underwear down. His hard cock springs out, its reddened tip oozing precum.

Your eyes widened, heavens… He was big! He holds your hips tightly, positioning his cock in front of your throbbing entrance. You scream as he thrusts inside you, even though you were prepared, it still hurt.

You cry as he pushes his cock all the way inside you, the tip hitting your cervix. He at least had the decency to wait for you to adjust. But soon he starts moving, his pace is never slow, but strong and fast. Hitting your cervix hard, leaving it bruised.

You screamed with each thrust, tears streaming down your rosy cheeks. You hated yourself for this, hated yourself for enjoying this. You scream too loudly when his tip hits your G-spot, making you cum hard. He laughs, laughs at how pathetic you are.

He reaches out with both hands, his big hands wrap around your small neck, squeezing lightly. You wrap your small hands around his wrist. trying to push him away? or pull him closer? you don't know anymore.

He continued to fuck you hard, making you more and more stupid. His thrusts soon began to become sloppy, indicating that he was getting closer as well. He soon stops brutally, his grip on your neck tightens, leaving you gasping for air, your nails scratching his wrists as he fills you with hot cum.

You cum again, squeezing his cock as your pussy sucks up his cum. He soon lets go of your neck, red handprints around your neck as you start to breathe again. He pulls his soft cock out of you, laying down next to you as he pulls you closer.

He kisses your forehead and lips, smelling your hair - “My bunny… My good girl… My everything… Mine, just mine..." He says breathlessly, hugging you tightly as he started to sleep. You sit there thinking, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be a good girl for him… In this beautiful luxurious room, like a golden cage…

<3

[trinitvii-r]

VP Squared - First Class Impressions

prologue | part i

(ffvii x reader

Genesis should’ve known anyone who got on well with Rufus Shinra would be a load of trouble. Sephiroth thinks it’s a funny turn of events that his friend is the one experiencing stress, rather than causing it.

Angeal’s just happy to be there, really.)

“Dibs,” is the first thing out of Genesis’ mouth as he walks into the conference room.

You know he was referring to you, but you don’t even spare him a glance before returning to your conversation with Rufus… to make it clear to everyone in the room that your VP is and will remain your main priority.

Behind the silly little red-coat-wearing-in-the-middle-of-damn-July man, Angeal looks rightfully embarrassed and is trying to drag the man away. Sephiroth chooses to ignore them both, and makes for his usual seat.

Undeterred, Genesis walks closer to you and stretches out his arm, pointer finger raised straight at you. “Dibs,” he repeats.

You and Rufus share a look for no longer than a second, and your VP immediately understands. He has an amused look on his face as he says, “Go ahead.”

You no longer mask the annoyance you feel as you spit out the words, “Piss off.”

Genesis squeaks out, “I— beg your pardon?!”

You turn away from him, and focus your attention to Rufus once more.

The blonde flicks you on the nose, and laughs at the pinched expression you make. “I would’ve thought you’d say the more colorful word.” Translation: I was hoping you’d say the more colorful word.

You fiddle with your cup of coffee, making a point to keep Genesis hanging, knowing damn well he’s still hovering. “I thought it may offend his delicate sensibilities.” Translation: You know what I mean.

Rufus snorts. As you drink your coffee, Rufus looks up at Genesis, and explains, “They just called you a little bitch.”

You may not have SOLDIER senses, but you swear you hear Sephiroth choke on his spit.

With a mild tone, you reprimand Rufus. “I said I think he’s a wuss.”

“Creative license.”

In unison, the two of you couldn’t resist to snicker. A sight that oddly further aggravates Genesis.

The Commander bites, “That’s it! Newbie, I’m gonna have a lot of fun breaking you in.”

Excuse me?

As you rake your eyes over Genesis’s form, you hear a voice somewhere else in the room ask, “Should I call Human Resources?”

Genesis looks half-murderous, and half-flirtatious as he smirks down at you.

You give him a cheshire grin and say, “Do your worst, Carrot-top.”

Sephiroth absolutely loses it.

Or at least by Sephiroth standards. The man is chuckling, and you could see his shoulders shake as he tries to rein in his mirth.

You pop him a finger gun à la Reno, and cheekily say, “Excited to work with you, General.”

Both Genesis and Angeal drop their mouths open in shock when Sephiroth gives a lazy mock salute, and says, “The feeling is mutual, rookie.”

You turn to Angeal, and give him a wink. “Same goes for you, Commander Hewley.”

A flustered Angeal murmurs, “Thanks. I’ll do my best.”

Genesis should have known you’d have no nice sentiments to spare for him. And he’s proven right when all he gets is a lousy, “You can drop dead for all I care, Red.”

Sephiroth excuses himself, and you could vaguely hear a deep laughter resounding in the hallway.

This is the scene President Shinra walks into, and he looks completely defeated. A triumphant grin forms on Rufus’ face.

All your posturing from earlier morning seems to have faded away, and now Genesis finds himself the sole subject of your attention. He gulps as you stare up at him with wide eyes, an almost enamored expression just for him… or at least his fireballs.

“That was so sick.”

Turning his nose up at you, and in a pathetic effort to hide the red dusting his cheeks, he answers, “What a crude way to address my talent.”

He’s surprised when you don’t respond with some quip. Instead, you whine, “C’mon, man. I’ve never even said that about Rufus with his guns.”

Filing away that tidbit about the Shinra brat, Genesis couldn’t help the giddiness he feels at your words. Not the words he would have preferred, but the sentiment certainly was there. Close enough. If throwing fireballs at dummies was what earned him your respect and admiration, then that’s what he’d do.

A part of him is terrified at his outright sense of urgency to impress you. He brushes the thought away when you grab onto his coat sleeve, and beg, “Please teach me, dude.”

Again, not his choice of words, but for now, dude will have to do.

“Rhapsodos, move! You’re blocking the view.”

The mood is instantly killed by the Shinra brat.

It starts off like this.

News gets passed around that you were assigned the Rufus babysitting gig.

Hand in hand with that, news gets passed around that you somehow made it into the SOLDIER program.

Along with that, the fact you threatened Heidegger with a knife. (A velocity edit of the security feed of the moment is the top retweeted and liked tweet of the day. A bubbly filter AMV of Rufus lowering your knife for you is second.)

It only gets weirder from there.

Sephiroth’s, Angeal’s, and Genesis’s fanclubs have wildly varying takes on what happened in the meeting. Ranging from funny — You apparently had some top secret Turks-esque information that Genesis’ beautiful auburn hair was actually dyed from a bright orange that he had always been self-conscious of, and that you had called him by a mean nickname (Carrot-top) that kids in his village used to bully him with, and ended with Genesis bursting into tears. — to oddly conspiratorial — You were investigating reactors with the Turks when you fell into a vat of pure mako, and that President Shinra had decided to officially make you SOLDIER as a coverup for the fuck-up. You apparently became so powerful that you were named Sephiroth’s Lieutenant General, and that had made Genesis cry.

Genesis being reduced to tears seems to be the thread holding all these rumors together.

By lunchtime, everyone and their mother had their own theories on The Situation.

Which was why Cadet Cloud Strife had to do a double take when he saw you following after Genesis Rhapsodos, followed by Rufus Shinra following after you, and Sephiroth following after Rufus Shinra.

What.

Cloud nearly dropped his soup in surprise.

As you passed, he could barely make out the words, “again” and “just one more.”

And if Cloud knew anything about the Shinra rumor mill, it’s that they would take those words and lewdly misinterpret them. He could already hear Janice from Accounting typing loudly on her phone. Great. He wouldn’t need to open his inbox to know he’d see yet another wildly smutty Genesis fan fiction disguised as a newsletter.

Screw Zack for signing him up for those fanclubs.

Even before you leave the canteen, the winning theory is that you and Genesis enter into a whirlwind romance burning hot like the fireballs he flings onto unsuspecting targets, but alas you are a free spirit who refuses to be tied down. This theory also ends with Genesis in tears.

Cloud notes with a hint of amusement that the sight of you stacking up your and Rufus’s plates and neatly disposing of the trash is the most babysitter-like thing you’ve done all day. You even clean up for Sephiroth who reacts with a slack jaw and the most bewildered expression, and Genesis who stares at you as though you’ve just told him the secrets of the universe. The redhead could almost be described as swooning when he thanks you profusely.

You simply look at the man as if he had grown two heads. After a beat, you smirk. “Alright, hot stuff. Take it easy for the rest of the day, yeah?” You nod subtly at Rufus, who takes it as his cue to stand up, and says his farewells to the other two.

As the two of you make your way out the canteen, this bit of conversation once again throws everyone into a frenzy:

“Still think he’s a wuss?”

“Yeah, but not when he’s swinging that thing around.”

That thing in question was fireballs, but the rest of Shinra didn’t know that.

Definitely not it.

Anything but that.

When Lazard the Bastard told you you’d have to pay your dues as the newest SOLDIER, you did not expect it to be that.

“Well, what did you expect? The rest of them were cadets first. I can’t just hand everything to you.”

You tried the Rufus excuse, but Lazard brushes off your concerns. “I can assign a First on him for a couple hours.”

Like he heard you, Rufus looks up from his phone, and gives you a nod and a smile.

Gods. Right when you wanted Rufus to be a brat and demand his way, suddenly now he’s all goody.

With a scowl, you tell Lazard, “Let’s get this over with.”

Blood everywhere.

Gross.

Oh, and Angeal’s here too.

Nice.

“What’s up?”

Angeal had to admit. For someone who’s elbows deep into cleaning bloody blades, you sure had a draw to you as you hum some kind of melody. He wordlessly sits next to you, and wipes down the first weapon he could get his hands on.

A half hour later, he gets the feeling that you’ve got quite the mouth on you. Though, he’s seen you behave more casually with the other Turks plenty of times, and sometimes with Rufus himself, it’s a bit jarring to be on the receiving end of it.

“—Not gonna lie — but don’t you dare tell anyone else — if Rufus didn’t have those photos on him, and he had to get an actual SOLDIER babysitter, I would have preferred you.”

‘Wait. What.’ Clearly, Angeal was a bit distracted by how efficiently you can clean blood that he had neglected to hear some damning information on how you may have gotten this new gig. Oh well. He can try chatting with you another time. Besides, your new position would only make you more accessible to him.

Heaving a sigh, and resting your bloody knuckles on your hips, you give Angeal a grin. “Wanna hide these rags under Genesis’ bed?”

As if you even need to ask.

When Rufus drags you by the back of your collar like a cat out of Genesis’ private quarters, he can already tell this scene is only going to cause more chaos.

A wide grin fights its way to his face.

He had made the right call for his personal SOLDIER.

[reallyromealone]

BABYHAUL 3

Fluff, male reader, baby reader, reader is adopted by Yamada and Aizawa, domestic, cute

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐Yamada was exhausted as he held little (name) in his arms, making coffee while Aizawa made breakfast for them all. It was back to school already and nobody was nearly awake for this, little (name) staring dazed and confused before being seated in his high chair.

"We have... Apple and carrot" Shouts mumbled as everyone began eating, (name) smacking his hands on the plastic table for food "yeah yeah, open wide" the exhausted hero said and (name) opened up when the little spoon got close to his mouth and looked very happy when tasting his food before looking at Shotas food curiously when he ate some of his own breakfast "ABABABA!" He tried reaching for some of it but sadly his chubby baby arm couldn't reach "here, a little bit" Shouta handed (name) a small bit that was cooled off on chopsticks and (name) looked very excited as he shoved it in his mouth.

Getting dressed and preparing (name)s baby bag the family headed off to school, Yamada grinning at the fact he managed to get the itty bitty babe in a onesie that looked like the uniform, Shouta having to explain that an actual mini uniform probably won't go well with the choking hazards via buttons and tie that the babe would most definitely try to eat.

Aizawa took (name) first as he collected his belongings, his new son looking at the students happily as they passed. Aizawa had Shinso hold his stuff as (name) kept insisting on trying to play with it.

Shinso found his new brother fascinating, the babe most definitely had a quirk that could fundamentally do anything! He could be anything!

And currently the little one was "helping" their dad prepare for class.

The students started filing in, at first not noticing the tiny addition strapped to their teachers chest, Aizawa currently writing things on the smart board "President, you can give attendance" Aizawa said passively as he turned to grab the work to be passed out off the podium and the class froze at the infant who was staring back curiously before looking around.

"Sir?" It was kaminari who spoke up with a raised hand and Aizawa grunted as a response to the blond "what's with the baby?"

Aizawa knew they wouldn't focus until he addressed the tiny elephant in the room so with a sign he scanned the class "this is my son, the U.A daycare is under maintenance so he's here" Aizawa said simply and Izuku seemed fixated on the small babe.

He looked... Familiar.

"How old is he?" Mina asked curiously and the teacher sighed "he's under a year old"

(Name) stretched his little arms and the class cooed "now" Aizawa got to business and popped a pacifier in little (name)s mouth before getting on with class.

(Name) mimicked Aizawas hand movements much to the classes amusement as Aizawa let him hold onto his finger.

"Is that him?" Nemuri asked with a soft excitement as she stepped towards the duo, Aizawa going to the staff room to get the heroics notes. "This is (name)" Aizawa said simply and Nem squealed softly but stopped when (name) looked a little startled at the sound "he's so little... Look at his little socks" she said and Aizawa took him out of his carrier a d let the other hold him, (name) immediately trying to grab her glasses to no avail "he does that with Hisashi" Aizawa said as his son began fussing.

"I think someone needs a nap" Nem said softly and Aizawa took him back and put him in the Carrier though this time facing Aizawa and began soothing the boy.

Hizashi smiled as he held his new youngest son, little (name) waking from his nap mid class and looked at the Gen-Ed students half awake, looking like he just woke from a damn good nap and clothes slightly disheveled.

"Good morning sunshine" (name) let his dad clean the drool from his cheek before popping a pacifier in his mouth "oh-- we finished early... Well I suppose you all can talk amongst yourselves" Hizashi said but his students just looked fixated on the baby who gave them some half awake side eye "sir? Is that your son?" One student asked and Hizashi grinned "yes he his! This is my youngest son (name)!" He waved (name)s sleepy arm and the boy just let him do what he wanted "how old is he?" Another asked and the blond adjusted (name) before speaking "a few months, he's a wiggly little guy" (name) gave a prime example as he whined to be put down and his dad complied, gently setting the boy down and (name) began army crawling around his little blanket set out "he's not good at the whole moving thing yet"

(Name) wiggled on the floor till his arm got caught under him and the class stiffened as his little lip wobbled and then a cry broke out as Hizashi lifted the itty bitty into his arms and tried to soothe the babe who was absolutely loosing it to no avail till his son came up "can I try?" hizashi let Hitoshi hold the itty bitty as the bell rang, the blond letting the students leave.

When it was just the trio, Hitoshi held (name) close and pat his little back gently and... Started reciting words meanings from the dictionary?

It seemed to work as (name) calmed down "how" Hizashi asked his son who shrugged "works on Eri"

The two laughed as (name) looked around confused "it's lunch time baby, they went bye bye"

"Why does he have tear marks?" Shouta asked as he took the babe "lil guy crawled on his own arm and lost his mind" Hizashi said teasingly and Shouta nodded "bound to cry eventually"

"The machine beeped!" Midnight said as her and powerloader made tea and Shouta wandered to the bottle warmer and (name) began bouncing at the machine he quickly learned holds his food "yeah yeah, keep your diaper on"

(Name) made content sounds as he ate, the teachers talking about classes and students and upcoming events "I still can't believe you two are going to be the hosts for the sports festival" Snipe snorted and Aizawa shrugged "it's only logical"

When (name) finished his bottle, Aizawa burped him and let him look around in his arms, everyone waving at him and to the adults surprise he clumsily waved back "I am pretty sure that was his first wave" Hizashi said excitedly and the teachers cooed and thankfully Vlad had video of it all and sent it to the blond.

"So is he eating solids?" Powerloader asked and Shouta nodded "he's a monster with custard" at the mention (name) looked at him curiously and the man chuckled "papa!" Little Eris voice rang as she ran in excitedly "Hi baby! Nedzu let you out early?" With the help of nedzu and a Quirk specialist Eri had been learning to control her quirk in a safe environment "yeah! He said since I got a new baby brother that I could have extra lunch with him!"

Eri smiled as Shouta crouched so she could see the little babe whom she vowed to protect in her little heart and though he shared features with her abuser she was very aware that they were not one in the same and during her captivity she often grew curious about the little baby.

A few weeks passed, the dorms fully finished and the family moved though Shinsou was in the student dorms though his training he would hopefully be joining the Hero course.

It was the weekend and the Yamazawa family were hanging out at the in school park for teachers who were parents, little (name) having the time of his life on the baby swing as he was gently pushed by Hizashi as Shouta pushed Eri on a big kid swing "higher!" She squealed as Shouta pushed her only a smudge higher "could the Yamada/Aizawa please report the Principal Nedzus office"

Hitoshi met with his family in casual clothes, it being the weekend and not needing a uniform at this moment as they knocked on it "enter please!" Nedzu said as they walked in, eyebrows raising at the man sitting in formal attire "what's going on?"

"Well due to the... Departure of Overhaul, he's been declared deceased due to the video spread of you know what" Nedzu spoke carefully as there were two tiny sets of ears through one was far more interested in his dad's capture weapon.

"So what?"

"So now we must read the things that's been left behind for our dear (name)!"

A will reading?

"Yes! It seems our dear (name) has been left quite a fair amount!"

The family sat as the lawyer began reading, the babe left estates and and priceless things in vaults quite literally anything and everything"and finally (name) Chisaki is left a total sum of 65,154,375,000 Yen (450m), here are the codes for the safes along with deeds to the estate's"

The Yamazawa family was... Shocked to say the least.

"Holy shi--""language" Shouta said though he wasn't much better, the tiny baby in his arms in little shorts and a blue striped shirts and matching shoes was absolutely loaded, the lawyer leaving them.

"My my, isn't this interesting" Nedzu said with a content smile and watched the family look shocked save for the littles who didn't have a clue on what was happening though (name) was very curious about the cookies and treats on Nedzus desk "I-I don't know... What?" Yamada was speechless as he processed the fact his baby was a multi millionaire "could we possibly have the homes and material items left behind be appraised and checked? To make sure they aren't stolen" Hitoshi brought up and the other adults genuinely considered it "since you two are his legal adults, we could do that" Nedzu said handing the teen a cookie for his excellent point "that would be good seeing as he was a criminal" Shouta agreed with his sons point.

"I will make arrangements"

So much stolen items.

So so much stolen items.

All the estate's, vaults and everything checked and the amount of stolen items was astounding and they barely dented it.

Generations of stolen goods from the crime family.

And all while this happened, (name) was excited that he got new blocks as Yamada worked with a lawyer to draft trust funds and such so the money would be accessible to (name) when he was 18.

[phantomrose96]

Oh okay so I have a Pikmin theory.

So for starters: Pikmin 1->2->3 are chronological. Pikmin 4 is a sort of AU of Pikmin 1, precedented on Olimar not making it off PNF-404 alive (sort of a bad-end of Pikmin 1, but also with various other AU differences).

This leads me to wonder... is Pikmin 4->2->3 arguably a canon sequence of events? Cuz either the differences between 1 and 4 have knocked canon off course, and as such 4 will never lead to 2 and 3. Or you can string them together in a way that makes 4->2->3 a plausible canonical chain.

The biggest thing that stands out to me is Louie. In 1->2->3, no one was ever sent to rescue Olimar in 1, and the second he arrives home in 2 his boss informs him that Louie was attacked ("attacked") by a space rabbit that ate the precious cargo of golden pikpik carrots, launching the company into massive debt (and he forces Olimar back to PNF-404 to treasure hunt to pay off the debt.) It's later revealed Louie was never attacked, and he ate the cargo himself.

In 4, LOUIE is sent to rescue Olimar. (He never does. He completely gives up because he forgot what Olimar looks like, and then becomes the biggest pain in your ass after YOU rescue Olimar, because Louie starts taking hostages and running from you insisting he never wants to leave PNF-404 for... some unclear reason?)

This feels like it could break 4->2->3 as a plausible canon, considering Louie is not home on Hocotate to eat his whole cargo (fucker). But I realized something.

Pikmin 4 starts more or less around when Olimar's life support runs out and he dies. You get his SOS signal not long at all before this happens. And TBH, it's probably a good additional in-game month in 4 before you actually rescue Olimar and encounter Louie. In a good-end run of Pikmin 1, Olimar needs to repair his ship and escape PNF-404 before his life support runs out. So in short: Louie fucks up the cargo sometime prior to Olimar's life support running out, and Pikmin 4 is set after his life support runs out. (Technically, they changed the amount of time his life support lasts between 1 and 4, but I figure that was to trim down Olimar's Tale in 4 and not actually for a canon reason).

My point being, Pikmin 4 being largely set after Olimar's life support runs out means Louie had plenty of time to fuck up the pikpik carrot cargo.

Then there's the fact that in Pikmin 4, Louie is desperate to STAY on PNF-404 for reasons he refuses to ever explain. Maybe, because, ya know, he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. He knows he's responsible for plunging Hocotate Freight into what was essentially $10 million of debt. Louie doesn't want to be charged with $10 million worth of theft. And without Olimar bringing home the bottle cap, there's no plan for repaying that debt.

Louie maybe wants to stay on PNF-404 because he's not going the fuck to jail.

All this to say: I think 4->2->3 is actually a completely reasonable canon sequence, if you figure the "Louie lost (ate) the $10 million of golden pikpik carrots" happens in the background, right at the start of Pikmin 4 before Olimar's life support has run out. Olimar's SOS comes through, and President, desperate for his only competent employee back to help fix this, sends Louie to PNF-404 on a rescue mission. On PNF-404, Louie figures himself a fugitive who'd rather spend his days cooking bulborbs than ever return home to Hocotate to potentially face the music of his "this was definitely a felony" crime, and so he kicks and screams and fights to stay on PNF-404...

...And you drag him home anyway, along with poor rescued Olimar who's died and come back to life... just in time for their boss to be like "YOU idiots, go get me out of debt! Go back to PNF-404"

[five-rivers]

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 7

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

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The documentary was more interesting than Danny had thought it would be; football itself, on the other hand, was quite boring most of the time.  Oh there were a few moments of excitement, usually in the few minutes before the game ended, and maybe it’d be more fun if he was actually playing, but otherwise… 

Yeah, it was boring.  Vlad seemed to like it, though.  And the popcorn was good.  Very buttery.  

“That was exciting, wasn’t it, my boy?”

“I, yeah,” said Danny.  “It was fun.”

Vlad nodded, seeming satisfied.  “Let’s go get lunch.  It’s about that time, and I can show you the dining room and kitchen.  You’ll be able to get things from there whenever you want, of course, but it is primarily the Dairy King’s domain.”

“Right,” said Danny.  “I’m looking forward to meeting him.  He’s your grandfather, right?”

“Yes,” said Vlad.  “Although I’m afraid to say we aren’t all that similar.”

“Okay?” 

“He’s… something of a… well, he has a somewhat interesting sense of humor.”

“Uh huh,” said Danny.  He didn’t really get it.  

“You’ll see soon enough, regardless,” said Vlad.  

They walked into a grand dining room with a long, polished table and a sparkling chandelier.  There were paintings of food on the walls, and Danny’s stomach rumbled, seeing it.  

“The kitchen is right through here,” said Vlad, ushering him through a door.  

Behind it was a shining, modern kitchen, covered in all sorts of gadgets and devices.  The central island counter was piled high with food.  Presiding over the stack of food was a small, round, green man with white hair and a bushy mustache.  He was wearing a parody of royal clothing.  

He was, it was quite clear, none other than the deceased founder of the Dairy King restaurant chain, the Dairy King himself.  

“Oh ho!” he said.  “I didn’t expect to see the two of you until dinnertime, dontcha know!  How are you settling in, Phantom?”

“I’m fine,” said Danny.  “My bedroom looks cool.”

“Glad to hear it!  Now, what kinda lunch were you fancying?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny.  “Surprise me?”

“Ohho!”  The Dairy King waved his hands, and cheese, sausages, and cold cuts followed.  “How about some lovely charcuterie?”  

Danny didn’t know what charcuterie was, but it didn’t look bad.  

“It’s finger food,” said the Dairy King.  “Nice and light, and full of the most important food group: CHEESE!”

It was, indeed, full of cheese.  

“Maybe some vegetables won’t be amis, either,” suggested Vlad, a bit of a sheepish look on his face.  “Some fruit?”

“Is cheese not good enough for you?” asked the Dairy King.  “For shame, Vladimir, for shame.”

“It’s good enough, but living beings can’t survive on cheese alone, grandfather.”

The Dairy King smiled and pulled a plate of fruit and carrots and celery from behind his back.  “I’m glad you’ve finally realized that, grandson!”

.

After lunch, Vlad went on to show Danny around the rest of his mansion, which was put together in a much more logical way than the Observants’ place.  Vlad even showed him the entrance to the lab, although they didn’t come in.  Danny was pretty sure he could find his way around.

The Dairy King tagged along with them for a while, then bowed out, saying that he had to start on dinner.  After that, it was just him and Vlad walking the halls.  It was pleasant to walk quietly for a while, but Danny’s curiosity was too strong to leave it that way for very long.

“So… You knew my parents?”

“Yes, I did,” said Vlad.  We met in college and became fast friends.  Your father was my roommate, your mother shared most of our classes.  We joined most of the same clubs, too.  It’s a bit of a boring story, isn’t it?”

“I mean, no?  Since I didn’t know any of this before.  What were they like?”

“Well… your father was always very… enthusiastic.  Your mother was brilliant.”

“So, kind of like Jazz.”

“I suppose so.”

“Both the enthusiasm and being smart.”

“... Yes.  I suppose so.”

Danny was tempted, very tempted, to ask more about his parents, but he could tell Vlad was very uncomfortable talking about them.  A point towards him telling the truth otherwise, although something was still niggling at him.  

“And you knew me,” said Danny.  

“Yes,” said Vlad, with some relief.  

“Tell me something about myself, then,” said Danny.  “Like, something we did together.”

“Oh, my.  Well, let’s see…  Where to start…  Ah, I know.  Did Jasmine mention anything about what you use your powers for?”

“No,” said Danny.  He made a face.  “I think she must have misunderstood the rules.  She kept trying to convince me that she was my mother.”

“She took the ‘become your parent’ part literally, I suppose,” said Vlad, shaking his head.  “In any case, after you received your powers, you became something of a superhero for your town, protecting it from rogue ghosts and other blackguards.”

Danny decided to ignore the really egregious euphemism for dying in favor of absorbing the fact he’d been a superhero.  That sounded so cool.   “Really?”

“Yes, really.  We even fought side by side a few times,” said Vlad, briefly buffing his nails on the front of his shirt.  “Perhaps I could tell you about the time you inadvertently absorbed another ghost’s ability to control the weather?”

“Please,” said Danny.  

.

They went to dinner after that, and it was very good.  Gourmet burgers, cheesy french fries and all.  Vlad seemed a little put out by it, but Danny liked it.  

Danny swam in the indoor pool for a bit after dinner, then played around with a few of the video games - he especially liked Doomed - but when it was time to sleep…  He didn’t quite feel like it.  Instead, he went downstairs, to the kitchens.

“Ah, Phantom!” said the Dairy King, who was doing… something with a gallon of cream.  “What brings you to the kitchen this fine evening?”

Danny shrugged.  “It looked like you wanted to tell me something at dinner.  And you call me Phantom.  The Observants called me that, too.”

“Well, it is part of your name, dontcha know?”

“I don’t know, really.  Clockwork said my name is Daniel, and Jazz called me Danny, and the Observants just called me Phantom, and said that was my only name.  What’s the truth?”

“I’m not all that well acquainted with you, but I’d say they’re all the truth.  I don’t rightly know your family name - couldn’t tell you if I did, against the rules, dontcha know? - but I know you by both names.”

That was one mystery solved, even if it was one of the less important ones.  “And the reason you wanted to talk to me?” 

The Dairy King sighed and floated down to sit on one of the kitchen counters.  “Well, now, that’s a bit more difficult to talk about, dontcha know?”

“Not… really,” said Danny.  “Since I don’t know what you’re talking about.  Like.  At all.”

“You’ve got a point there.  Well.  You know that I love my grandson, ya know?”

“Sure,” said Danny.  

“Yah, well, he’s my grandson.  And he cares about you, sure enough.  But the two of you didn’t always get along, per se.  Not to put too fine a point on it all… you two were enemies.”

“Enemies?”  There was the other shoe Danny had been waiting for.  He'd known this was too good to be true.  

The Dairy King nodded sadly.  “He's always wanted to take care of you, but he didn't go about it the right way.  Picked fights with you instead of talking to you.  And then that feud with your parents.  Nasty business, that.”

“Feud?”

“They had a falling out in their youth.  Nothing they should have gotten so worked up about, is my understanding, but Vlad took everything so personally…  Although, I wasn’t there to see it myself, dontcha know?”

“I guess,” said Danny.  He’d really thought that Vlad might be genuine, but he was hiding something big like this…  “So, we fought?”

“You did, I’m afraid,” said the Dairy King.  “But I can guarantee good as gouda that he regretted it.  He considers this whole thing a second chance.  A clean slate, so he can start over again, do things right this time.  But it didn’t sit right with me, not telling you, dontcha know?  And you’d remember eventually, and then what?  You’d feel tricked, betrayed, and then everything would be worse off than before.”

“They’re pretty bad now,” muttered Danny.  

“He really does mean to do better by you,” said the Dairy King.  “Please, won’t you give him a chance?”

Danny bit his lower lip.  He’d given Jazz a chance, even though she’d lied to him.  This felt different, though.  Still.  

“I’ll give him a week to tell me the truth.  That’s how long I gave Jazz.  If he doesn’t…”

“Yes, that sounds reasonable,” said the Dairy King.  “Thank you.”

Danny shook his head. “Don’t thank me yet.  Neither of us know what Vlad will do.”

.

First thing after breakfast, they headed down to the lab.  Somehow, knowing what, exactly, Vlad’s deal was made it a lot easier to go down there.  The lab was… not what he expected.  

It was very clean, for one.  All the different pieces of equipment were stored neatly and labeled.  The ectoplasm samples were stored in carefully marked, sealed jars.  Large, bright, computer screens displayed screensavers.  And in one of the walls was a large octagonal hole, leading down a dead-end tunnel. It was roped off with caution tape. 

Danny stared at it.  There was something about it… 

“The portal,” said Vlad.  “Don’t get too close.  It’s off right now, due to the requirements of the trial, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a dangerous piece of equipment.”

“Then why have it?” 

“Because it is also very useful.  Come along.”  

Vlad led him on, into a large, seemingly empty room.  The floor and the walls were padded with thin athletic mats.  

“Now,” said Vlad, walking into the center of the room as Danny looked around.  “First things first.  The transformation.”  

He struck a pose, and a black ring that somehow glowed sprung out from his waist.  As soon as Danny registered its existence, it split into two and swept over his body, turning Vlad from an aristocratic-looking human into a blue-skinned, horned, fanged, and clawed ghost.  

“Wow.  I knew you could do that, but wow.”  

“And you can do it, too,” said Vlad, his voice subtly deeper.  “In reverse order, of course.”

“How?” asked Danny.  

“Let’s take it step by step.”

.

They settled into a kind of routine.  They’d all eat breakfast together.  Then, Vlad and Danny would go train.  With Vlad’s help, Danny got a lot better at using his powers, even if he was nowhere near Vlad’s level.

(He had to wonder how he survived their enmity, with such a gulf between their skill levels, but maybe he either was better before losing his memories, or Vlad was going easy on him.)

At noon, the three of them would eat together, and Vlad would assign Danny a few hours of ‘homework.’  It wasn’t as bad as Jazz’s punishing schedule, but it still was tiring.  Probably good for him, though.  

Then, at dinner, Danny would harass Vlad and the Dairy King for stories about himself.  There was just so much he didn’t know.  

Finally, they’d usually watch a football game or some movie together before separating for ‘personal activities’ (Vlad’s words) and bedtime.  

The days passed quickly like that, and before Danny knew it, he’d reached the deadline he’d set for himself.  The evening of the seventh day.  

“Did I tell you about our little trip through time?” asked Vlad.  “It started with a rather interesting map–”

“You already told me that one,” interrupted Danny.  “Come on, you’ve got to have at least a few from before I died, right?  You don’t have to worry about embarrassing me with baby stories.  I get it.”

“It pains me to say it now, but I was not as involved in your life as I wish I had been.  I…” 

Danny looked up expectantly, wondering if this was when he'd admit to the truth.  When he'd tell Danny they used to be enemies. 

“I lived rather far away, you see, and fell out of contact with your family for many years.”

“Oh,” said Danny, disappointed in more ways than one. 

“I only made contact again at the reunion, which is when I also learned about you.”  He shook his head.  “I was so shocked when I found out about you,” he said, voice distant.  “I was just…  It was unbelievable to me, that what happened to me could happen to someone else.”

“It was a lab accident for you, too?”

Vlad made a face.  “Yes.”

Danny pushed the remains of his peas around on his plate.  What a way to kill the conversation…

“I’m probably going to leave in the morning,” he said, desperate to break the silence that had gone on for far too long.  

“What?” said Vlad.  “But we’ve been getting along so well!”

“We have,” said Danny.  “But I still need to visit the other people on the list.  You’re only the third.”

“You don’t exactly have to,” started Vlad.  

“But I want to give everyone a chance.  It’s only fair.”

Vlad sighed heavily.  “You are nothing if not fair.  I do wish you had told me beforehand.  I would have made something special for dinner.”

“You mean, you would’ve had me make something special for dinner,” said the Dairy King.  “Dontcha worry.  I have an ice cream cake in the freezer, on account of this being the one-week anniversary of you being here.”

“Thanks,” said Danny.  “I’ve really had a nice time.”

“I’m glad,” said Vlad.  “I hope you do consider returning.  I don’t know who else has applied for your custody, but I am, at least, a safe choice.”

Danny nodded.  He was better than the Observants, anyway.  But hiding the fact that they were once enemies didn’t exactly scream safe to Danny.  

“Yes,” said Vlad.  He sounded just a little choked up.  “Well.  On to the cake, I suppose!”

“Yeah, cake sounds good.”

[the-quasar-hero]

It’s been said more eloquently by ppl more politically articulate than I; but it must be said again, that the ppl who are rooting and voting for trump do not actually believe he’s an effective, competent leader. By his many failed businesses it’s clear he’s not. They don’t believe in their hearts of hearts that he’d be a good president. They only hate brown ppl and trans ppl more than anything. The metaphorical carrot he’s waving in their faces is the promise that he’ll hurt brown ppl and trans ppl. That is enough for them. That alone gets their vote. Their hatred of ppl different from is enough to ignore his glaring flaws that make him ill equipped to run a company, let alone a country

[mariacallous]

In late May, Saudi Arabia appointed its first ambassador to Syria since it closed its embassy in Damascus 12 years ago. The Saudi ambassador’s return was only the latest step by the Arab states to normalize relations with the Assad regime. In 2018, the United Arab Emirates (UAE) became the first to reestablish ties with Damascus (though it only sent an ambassador to Syria in January 2024). The UAE’s move launched the rehabilitation of a regime that has been treated as a regional pariah since 2011 due to its brutal repression of mass protests. Other regional actors followed in its footsteps, including Jordan and Bahrain, but normalization only acquired real momentum in the wake of a devastating earthquake that hit southern Turkey and northern Syria in February 2023. Just months later, in May, the Arab League voted to restore Syria’s membership, ending a suspension dating back to 2011. In addition, several Arab states, including Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Lebanon, and Egypt established an Arab Liaison Committee on Syria to negotiate Syria’s further return to the Arab fold, including, potentially, providing Syria with badly needed financial support. Since then, Syrian President Bashar al-Assad has again routinely participated in regional forums, including a November 2023 emergency summit on Gaza where he decried Israeli violence toward Palestinians—never mind his direct complicity in the brutal murder of hundreds of thousands of Syrian civilians.

Syria’s neighbors began normalizing their relations with Damascus after years of isolation and punitive sanctions failed to bring about a change in the Assad regime’s behavior, and as their concerns mounted about the spillover effects of Syria’s economic crisis for regional stability. Perhaps carrots, they argued, in the form of a step-for-step approach that would offer Assad incentives, might achieve what a policy heavy on sticks had not. Three issues loomed especially large on the Arab agenda: the need to create conditions that would permit the safe return of refugees; ending or at least curtailing the production and smuggling of Captagon, a narcotic that was flooding into Saudi Arabia and other Arab countries; and the possibility that a return to the Arab fold, along with Gulf money, might temper Iran’s influence in Syria.

A year later, what has normalization wrought? It has extended recognition and legitimacy to a murderous regime but in every other respect has been a failure. Arab regimes have taken unilateral steps with no reciprocal moves from Assad. Normalization led to no discernable progress toward the objectives sought by members of the Arab Liaison Committee. Refugees forced back into Syria from Lebanon are subject to detention and torture. The vast majority are unwilling to risk voluntary return. Huge quantities of Captagon continue to flow across Syria’s borders, with the direct support and involvement of leading regime figures including the president’s brother, Maher al-Assad. In the absence of any serious attempt by the regime to crack down on smuggling, Jordan has attacked production facilities inside Syria, shot down drug-carrying drones, and deployed its military to confront armed smuggling gangs that attempt to break through the border. Nor has a step-for-step strategy been any more effective in diluting Iranian influence in Damascus. In the face of Assad’s intransigence, last year’s cautious optimism has given way to a grim recognition of the limits of normalization and the depth of the Assad regime’s obstinacy. On May 7, 2024, one year to the day of the Arab League’s restoration of Syria’s membership, the Arab Liaison Committee on Syria suspended its meetings. While a future meeting in Baghdad has been announced, no date has been set.

Its failures notwithstanding, all indications are that Arab regimes are not yet prepared to rethink their engagement with the Assad regime. Instead, they have normalized normalization as a form of politics as usual. Not only did Saudi Arabia return a diplomatic delegation to Damascus in late May, but it also flouted U.S. sanctions to send Syria the spare parts it needed to keep its severely degraded fleet of civilian planes in the air. Flights between Damascus and Riyadh have also resumed. Indeed, as collective negotiations floundered, Arab regimes have shifted course, focusing instead on the development of bilateral ties to advance their particular interests. Even prior to Syria’s reinstatement to the Arab League, Oman and Syria established an Oman-Syria Joint Committee. Iraq’s prime minister, Mohammed Shia al-Sudani, visited Damascus in mid-2023—the first such visit in over 10 years—while Syria’s foreign minister, Faisal Mikdad, has more recently held discussions on strengthening bilateral ties with counterparts from Egypt, Bahrain, and the UAE.

While Syria continues to participate in regional summits, including the most recent Arab League meeting in Manama, there is little question that Assad prefers dealing with neighboring states on a bilateral rather than a multilateral basis. Not least, this approach enables Assad to prioritize his diplomatic outreach. Signaling his relative disregard for Jordan’s priorities—Amman has been an especially vocal critic of the Assad regime’s involvement with the Captagon trade and is said to have led efforts to suspend the work of the Arab Liaison Committee—Jordanian-Syrian ties have been cooler than those between the regime and the Arab states in the Gulf. None of this implies that neighboring regimes have set aside their deep distrust of Assad. Indeed, the Gulf regimes prefer to define their approach to Syria as engagement or non-isolation rather than normalization. For their part, Syrian officials quietly complain about the Gulf regimes’ refusal to provide substantial financial support to Damascus.

For those who view the isolation and sanctioning of the Assad regime as a necessary response to its conduct—its documented role in mass violence and crimes against humanity that include over 300 known uses of chemical weapons, its continued refusal to provide information on the fate of more than 125,000 detainees held in a prison system that Human Rights Watch has described as a “torture archipelago,” its systematic theft of property from the forcibly displaced, its role in the Captagon trade—normalization has shown itself to be a lose-lose outcome. It rewards the regime’s criminality, erodes prospects for accountability, and facilitates sanctions avoidance. If there is a long game lurking behind this “something for nothing” strategy, it has proven exceptionally elusive.

Moreover, persisting with normalization has pernicious consequences for regional and international actors. Neighboring governments working to reduce illicit narcotics flows will be stymied by the Assad regime’s refusal to crack down on the drug trade. Similarly, there is no reason to believe that the incentives held out in exchange for normalization will persuade the Assad regime to change course and create conditions conducive to the voluntary return of refugees. In both respects, Arab governments will pay a steep price for indulging in a normalization process that has been permissive to a fault in its courtship of the Assad regime. Beyond Syria’s neighbors, the rhetoric of normalization has given license for right-wing nativist leaders in Europe to press for the return of Syrian refugees and to reject Syrians’ asylum claims. In early June, officials from seven European countries—Austria, the Czech Republic, Cyprus, Greece, Italy, Malta, and Poland—asserted that conditions in the country had “evolved” sufficiently to reconsider the status of Syrian refugees. More recently, a German court ruled that Syria is now safe for refugee return, a finding that flies in the face of realities on the ground. 

The obvious antidote to a strategy that bestows generous benefits on the Assad regime while gaining nothing in return is to stop it. It is time for regional governments to acknowledge the futility of normalization and change course. Along with the United States and its European partners, Syria’s neighbors need to reaffirm that the Assad regime will itself, directly, pay a steep price for its continued refusal to engage, whether on refugees, Captagon, or the larger issue of a pathway out of conflict consistent with U.N. Security Council Resolution 2254. The Assad regime is not normal. Its neighbors are poorly served by pretending that it is.

For its part, the United States would be well served by more assertive efforts to reverse normalization and affirm the Assad regime’s pariah status. The administration should move now, before a transition in January, to deploy the full range of diplomatic tools at its disposal—including more robust economic diplomacy through third-party sanctions—to more firmly signal its intent actively to throw sand in the gears of a deeply flawed normalization process. To date, the administration has instead largely conceded even the limited leverage that Congress gave it through the Caesar Syrian Civilian Protection Act. It has done little more than express skepticism about normalization while making clear it would do nothing to oppose it. In March 2023, Assistant Secretary of State for Near Eastern Affairs Barbara Leaf said that the administration’s message has been “If you’re going to engage with the regime, get something for that.” With the evidence of normalization’s failure, it is past time for the administration to get off the sidelines, recover whatever leverage it can muster, push back on Senate obstruction of the Assad Regime Anti-Normalization Act, and make much wider use of the sanctions that President Joe Biden signed into law through the Caesar Act to deter third-parties from engaging with the Assad regime. The alternative is a continued slow-drip restoration of the Assad regime’s standing that exposes forcibly repatriated refugees to the regime’s violence, even as it enables the continued flow of Captagon out of Syria and ensures the continued suffering of ordinary Syrians.

[peterrefur]

The days we knew ⅏ Wilbur Soot x GN!Reader

Summary: Wilbur returns from Limbo. Reader reminisces about L'Manberg. Wilbur visits Reader's restaurant, and they recognize each other. Notes: Hey Mate!!! I’m Peter and I say right away that English is not my first language. I’m curious to hear your opinion about this work in the comments! Enjoy!

I am trying to get back to writing after a long break. This story is not the pinnacle of my abilities, but it is the beginning of my return to writing.

𝒲hispers and rumors spread like wildfire about his return from hell. A hell that he referred to as Limbo .

𝒜ccording to tales, this was where every soul must journey after departing from the mortal world, each Limbo tailored to the individual's experiences and memories. Some say his Limbo took the form of an endless underground metro system, with never-ending tunnels and trains that always arrived at the same station no matter how many times he boarded them.

𝐻is screams were said to be so deafeningly loud and relentless that they would echo through the night and linger for weeks, until he inevitably started screaming anew upon waking. Each scream was like a violent eruption from his chest, tearing at his vocal cords until blood filled his throat and spilled from his lips. His cries were like a tortured symphony, haunting and unyielding, they painted a picture of his anguish as a tortured symphony, echoing through the corridors of his mind long after reality had fallen silent.  His knuckles, once sturdy bastions of strength, now lay bare, stripped down to the bone by the unyielding assault against the harsh concrete wall. The bones beneath threatened to breach the surface, a grim testament to his unwavering resolve. Deep furrows marred his palms, etched by the relentless barrage, a stark reminder of his unending battle. Deep grooves crisscrossed his palms from the repeated beatings, leaving behind a permanent reminder of his struggles. His nails, once neat and trimmed, were now jagged and torn off in places from desperate attempts to claw his way out. They bent backwards, painfully pulling away from the fleshy tips of his fingers. 

𝐹or years, he had drifted in and out of sleep, unsure if he was truly awake or trapped in the never-ending purgatory of Limbo. He had grown accustomed to the unchanging landscape of darkness and despair, where hunger and pain were constant companions. But eventually, he came to the realization that this was an eternal torment - a hell without end.  No matter how much he struggled or what he did, death would not release him from this cursed existence. His only escape was to endure and hope for some sort of redemption beyond this bleak realm. 

𝒩o respite, no escape - just an unending abyss of torment. 

𝒜t least that's what they say in town when Reader goes to get groceries from their quaint little restaurant. They fondly remember the days when their establishment was nestled within the borders of L'Manberg, a place where soldiers sought refuge after grueling battles and found comfort in the hearty soups and flavorful dishes they cooked up. Aromas of savory herbs and spices wafted through the air as customers eagerly awaited their meals, their spirits lifted by the warm atmosphere and delicious food. 

The memories flood back to them as they recall the prestigious guests who frequented their restaurant. The elegant President of L'Manburg himself had made special visits for diplomatic meetings, seeking the comfort and privacy of their establishment. And they always made sure to serve him their nationally famous dish - Noodles with meat.  The aroma alone was enough to make mouths water - a rich, savory broth simmered for hours, perfectly cooked hand-prepared noodles that they could tell were ready just by the color and texture, tender pieces of pork carefully placed on top. But it wasn't just about the taste - the presentation was just as important. Carrots, chives, and other fresh garnishes adorned the bowl, along with a sprinkling of sesame seeds and a dollop of fiery chili paste for those who dared.  

𝒯his dish had become synonymous with significant events in the history of this young country, and the Reader couldn't help but feel proud knowing their humble restaurant played a part in shaping its culture and identity. 

A very pleasant past that Reader misses. They remember those times with a smile. 

𝐻owever, amidst the comfortable thoughts in their mind, there are also haunting memories of Pogtopia. They can still feel the weight of poverty and fear that shrouded their daily life like a thick fog. The memories of living in the canyon for what seemed like endless months flood back to them.  Yet, as they try to recall the time frame, it all becomes a blur, the days and years blending together into one hazy period of turmoil. Such is the impact that time had on their memories of that place. 

𝒯he unrelenting grip of poverty, the constant gnawing fear of death, the monotonous routine of preparing potatoes day after day. They had so many potatoes that they ate them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, struggling to find new ways to cook them - boiled, roasted over a fire, mashed into a purée. 

𝐵ut in the end, they always seemed to give up and serve them simply boiled. The bland aroma of boiling water filled their small ravine 'kitchen', as they resigned themselves to yet another meal of plain potatoes. 

𝐼t was a reminder of their meager existence, a symbol of their struggle to survive. 

𝒟espite not having a large customer base, they relish every opportunity to cook for someone and bring joy to their day. The thought of someone not having to worry about food at home and being able to come to them for a satisfying meal fills there with a sense of purpose. For a small fee, they serve up bowls of steaming noodles or simple dishes that they customize to each person's liking.  The aroma of herbs and spices wafts through the air, enticing passersby to stop and sample their cooking. Their humble kitchen is filled with warmth and welcoming energy, creating a haven for anyone in need of a comforting meal. 

As they enter the kitchen, their arms laden with fresh produce, they quickly tie a crisp white apron around their hips. They waste no time in placing the vegetables on the counter and rinsing them under a steady stream of cool water. With practiced efficiency, they pull out a large mixing bowl and various containers to store the ingredients. The cutting board is carefully wiped down, its surface gleaming beneath the bright kitchen lights. They run a hand over its smooth surface before grabbing their sharp knife and getting to work. 

𝒲ith a practiced hand, they reach for their favorite knife, its blade catching the sunlight and gleaming as they slice through the ripe tomato with precise movements. The crisp skin gives way easily and the sweet scent of the fruit fills the air as they carefully carve an even chunk and place it into the container. Moving on to the cucumbers, they expertly cut them into perfect strips, each one identical to the next, before adding them to the growing collection of vegetables in the container. Each ingredient is selected with care, from the vibrant red peppers to the deep green kale leaves and bright orange carrots. Finally, they add to earthy mushrooms their spongy texture completing the colorful array of ingredients that will soon become their customers' daily dishes.  As they work, a sense of pride and satisfaction fills their heart, knowing that these fresh and carefully prepared vegetables will bring joy and nourishment to those who eat them. 

𝒲ith the grace and ease of someone who has spent years perfecting their craft, they carefully wash their sharp knife before deftly cutting into the succulent meat. Every slice is deliberate and precise as they expertly remove any unwanted bones and gristle.  The stray cat that frequents their restaurant in the evening is the only customer who doesn't have to pay, so they always set out a small plate for it in appreciation. It's become a familiar routine, just like the comforting scent of freshly cooked meat that lingers in the air of their cozy establishment.

 

𝒜s the ten o'clock hour strikes, Reader interrupts their preparations and goes to the front door and pulls down the wooden covers that protect their glass window, with a sign that Tommy, one of the former members of L'Manberg, painted a few years ago. Reader opens the door wide and lets fresh air into the small room, which seats less than ten people. 

𝒜s the clock strikes ten, Reader pauses their preparations and strides to the front door with determination. They slide down the wooden covers that protect their glass window, adorned with a hand-painted sign by Tommy, one of the former members of L'Manberg. The aged paint peeling off reveals glimpses of vibrant colors from years past. With a firm grip, Reader pulls open the door, allowing a gust of cool air to sweep inside the small room. A cozy space, barely enough to seat ten people comfortably.  The scent of fresh air intermingles with the comforting aroma of food and freshly brewed tea. 

𝒯heir days pass, every so often consumed by thoughts and doubts of the rumors swirling about the resurrection of L'Manburg's President. Memories flood her mind- of the ravine where he had stood, surrounded by his people, pleading for them to stop calling him President. They remember the look of despair and desperation on his face, a stark contrast to the once hopeful and confident leader he used to be.  The transformation he underwent is etched in their mind, from a man filled with eager ambition and hope to one broken and desolate by the loss of his country. It's a haunting image that lingers in their thoughts, a poignant reminder of what once was and what could have been.  As they reflect on these memories, they can't help but feel a sense of sadness and disillusionment for the fallen leader and his shattered dreams. 

— 

𝒜s the time for cleaning up arrived, Reader moved with swift and precise efficiency. Their movements were like a choreographed dance, each step executed with perfect control and purpose. Without a moment of hesitation or uncertainty, they sorted through the items on the table, placing them carefully on the cat's plate or in the rubbish bin. It was as if they had been programmed for this task, carrying it out flawlessly like a well-oiled machine. The clink of dishes and rustling of paper filled the air as Reader worked, their focused expression never faltering. They were masters at their craft, turning chaos into order with each calculated movement. With a sense of accomplishment, Reader stepped back from the neatly organized items in front of them. Their duties were complete, each task executed with precision and attention to detail. A satisfying feeling of completion washed over there, leaving a smile on their face as they surveyed their flawless work. It was as if each item had found its rightful place, creating a symphony of order and efficiency.

𝒲ith a poised and graceful step, the owners of the charming restaurant emerged from their kitchen, their faces glowing with a warm smile. In one hand, they carried a delicate plate, its contents arranged in an artful display that could rival any high-end eatery. The scent of spices and herbs wafted through the crisp autumn air, drawing in any nearby feline companions. Each carefully selected ingredient had been placed with precision, creating a feast not only for the senses but also for the palate of any fortunate cat. 

As they walked towards their favorite spot outside the restaurant, a small cat curled up under their legs and wrapped its tail around their thighs in grateful contentment.  It was clear that this furry companion held a special place in their heart for providing it with nourishment every evening. 

𝒯he frigid and forbidding darkness of the night hung heavy, engulfing everything in its path. The cold air prickled at their skin, heightening their senses as they gazed upon the lone figure standing in front of their restaurant. His silhouette loomed large against the dimly lit street, casting a daunting shadow that seemed to swallow up everything around it.  The glowing moon above served as a watchful guardian, its silvery light bathing his features in an eerie glow. His intense gaze locked theirs, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as they stood alone in this deserted city. 

𝐻is voice cut through the silence, sharp and forceful. "Are you open?" he demanded, his words like shards of ice in the stillness of the night. 

The man's appearance is strikingly unkempt, emitting an aura of poverty and potential homelessness. His hair, a mass of shoulder-length brown curls, appears tangled and greasy, with strands protruding in all directions. Among the chaos, a solitary white strand stands out conspicuously, almost luminous against the disorder. It's as if he's aged a decade overnight. His eyes, bloodshot and encircled by a rim of red, convey a sense of sleeplessness that spans days. The profound, dark circles beneath his eyes surpass any exhaustion I've witnessed, even among the most fatigued hybrids or humans. 

𝐻e dons a tattered yellow jumper, its fabric worn thin and punctuated by tears. Draping loosely over his shoulders, a patched coat, once a lively brown, now bears the weight of dirt and grime, concealing any semblance of its former vibrancy. Wrapped around his arm, a bandage, tainted with a red hue, poses a mystery—blood or perhaps wine? Despite the neglect evident in his attire, one detail stands out: his trousers, meticulously pressed, hint at a pride in appearance amidst adversity.  Yet, they're juxtaposed with scuffed and grimy shoes, evidence of a journey endured with little regard for appearance. 

"Unfortunately, it has just closed," Reader says with a warm smile, their gesture directed towards the now darkened restaurant front. "But fear not, for I will be open again at 10 tomorrow morning." As they speak, they absent-mindedly pet the purring cat perched on the counter, savoring its meal of freshly prepared food. "The only customer being served now is this cat. You don't look like a cat, I'm sorry," they add, their hands gently stroking the animal as it enjoys its feast. 

At this, the man chuckles and responds, "I may not look like a cat, but I wouldn't mind meowing or snuggling up to your leg if it means getting some of that delicious food," he laughs.  "I wish I could help you," Reader says with a chuckle, "But I'm afraid my only clients after hours are of the feline persuasion." 

𝒯he man's hearty laughter echoed through the street, blending in with the soft purring of the cat. The tension from earlier seemed to dissipate, replaced by an ease that felt strange but also comforting. "Fair enough," he said, smiling at the Reader. "I think I'll have to find another place then."  "Just down the road there's an all-night dinner," they offered. They pointed towards the end of the street where a neon sign flickered intermittently. "They should still have something warm for you."  "Thanks," he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine gratitude. He turned to leave before hesitating and turning back towards Reader "Do you remember cooking noodles with meat in L'Manberg?" 

𝑅eader paused, a flicker of surprise passing across their face. Their eyes, which had been warm and inviting, cooled as they studied the man before there. "Why would you ask me that?" they said, their voices betraying a touch of guarded curiosity. 

The man gave a rueful smile. "It's a memory I've carried for years," he admitted with an odd sort of vulnerability, his gaze never leaving their face. "A chef who cooked the most delicious noodles with meat in L'Manberg."  Their faces softened as they listened to him, their initial wariness fading into curiosity. "That was a long time ago," they finally said, more to themselves than to him.  He nodded slowly. "Yes, it was," he conceded. "But for some reason, those noodles have always stuck with me. I suppose...I've been looking for them ever since." 

𝒜 silence descended upon them then, as they each absorbed what had been said - and perhaps what hadn't been said too. The cat finished its meal and hopped off the counter, brushing against Reader's leg before slipping out into the night.  "Have we met?" Reader said finally. Their voices were soft but resolute.   "Yeah..." he says and puts his hands in his pockets "I'm the one who let you open the restaurant and was the first to eat those noodles." says the man, at which Reader takes two steps backwards and only now in the man does they recognize the former President of L'Manburg. 

"Mr President..." whispers Reader. 

The man's expression softened at their recognition, a hint of nostalgia flickering in his eyes. "Please, just call me Wilbur," he said, his voice carrying a note of sincerity.  Reader's mind raced with memories of their time together in L'Manburg, the moments of camaraderie and hardship they had shared. They couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion at the sight of him standing before them, a stark reminder of the past they had tried so hard to leave behind.  "I never thought I'd see you again," they admitted, their voices barely above a whisper. "Not after everything that happened." 

𝒲ilbur's face took on a serious expression; his eyes seemed to be searching the ground for answers. "I understand," he spoke in a hushed tone. "Being brought back to life is just as shocking for me as it is for others.” 

Reader paused, gazing at their small restaurant with its quaint decor. "If you'd like, Mr. President - Wilbur, I believe I can whip up some delicious noodles with savory meat for you. However, it may take a bit of time."  A small, genuine smile graced Wilbur's lips at Reader's kind offer, the corners of his mouth turning up as if pulled by invisible strings. "I would be delighted," his bright brown eyes shone with gratitude, reflecting the warmth in his voice as he replied, a hint of nostalgia woven into his words. 

𝒲ith a graceful sweep, Reader disappeared into the kitchen to prepare their meal. Wilbur followed, sinking into a plush chair at one of the empty tables. His mind wandered back to the days when L'Manburg was a bustling nation, overflowing with life and possibility. Memories rushed in like a powerful river, each one bringing a flutter of nostalgia and longing as he waited patiently for the mouth-watering aroma of food to permeate the air once more. He could almost taste the rich flavors and feel the warmth radiating from the kitchen as Reader worked their magic. 

𝒯he kitchen was alive with a symphony of sounds, as Reader moved with dancer-like grace and purpose. The clinking of pots and pans echoed through the air, each utensil playing its own instrumental part in the culinary orchestra. The scent of simmering broth, infused with aromatic spices, filled Wilbur's senses, wrapping him in a warm and comforting embrace that made his stomach growl with anticipation. It was like being enveloped in a cloud of savory goodness, beckoning him closer to the source of its alluring aroma.  After spending years in the desolate realm of Limbo without any sustenance, the mere scent of these noodles sent a wave of hunger crashing over him. He could practically taste the savory broth and chewy strands as if they were right in front of him. The aroma was so enticing, he felt like he could devour liters of it without hesitation. 

𝒜s Reader emerged from the warm, bustling kitchen with a steaming bowl of noodles in hand, Wilbur's eyes met theirs with a mixture of admiration and longing. The aroma of savory broth and freshly cooked noodles wafted through the air, enticing his senses. As he took the first bite, the flavors exploded on his palate, each mouthful a symphony of tastes that transported him back to simpler times. With every swallow, he could taste the heart and soul that Reader had poured into the dish.  "You have truly outdone yourself," Wilbur exclaimed between bites, his eyes never leaving Reader's face as if trying to convey his gratitude and appreciation through their locked gaze. 

𝒯he words hung heavy in the air, thick with disbelief and awe. "I was at your funeral," Reader's voice trembled as they took a seat in the chair next to Wilbur. "And now I'm serving you noodles." The steam from the hot meal rose and mingled with their breath, a surreal scene unfolding before them. "You really have been revived," Reader marveled at the miracle of Wilbur's return from death.  "Believe me, you're not the only one having trouble adjusting to this." Wilbur says between mouthfuls of steaming noodles. He pauses to take a deep breath, then continues with a tinge of gratitude in his voice, "But thanks to my hero I am back alive. Dream."  He lifts his bowl up in a gesture of gratitude towards Dream, who is now behind bars in prison. Reader can sense the tension and unease between Wilbur and Dream. 

𝐼t's clear that something has changed between them, something that Reader doesn't quite understand or enjoy witnessing. 

𝒯he word fell from Reader's lips with a bitter tone, carrying with it the weight of past struggles and disappointments. The mere mention of "Dream" conjured up a flood of negative memories - the root cause of L'Manberg's seemingly endless problems.  "Dream? Eh, Wasn't he perhaps enemy number one in L'Manberg?” Reader asks. 

𝒲ilbur's gaze darkened at the mention of Dream's name, a storm brewing in his eyes. "Yes, he was," Wilbur admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and betrayal.  "But he was also the one who brought me back from the Limbo." The conflicting emotions within Wilbur were evident in his tense posture and furrowed brow.  Reader could sense the turmoil bubbling beneath the surface, the unresolved issues and complicated history between Wilbur and Dream hanging heavily in the air. "I know it's hard to understand," Wilbur continued, his voice softer now, laced with a hint of sadness. "But things are never as black and white as they seem, especially in a place like L'Manberg." He took another bite of noodles, the warmth of the broth offering a momentary distraction from the weight of their conversation. 

𝑅eader watched Wilbur closely, the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together in their minds. Despite the tension between them, Reader couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Wilbur. The weight of expectations and responsibilities had taken its toll on him, leaving behind scars that ran deep. 

𝑅eader smiles and refills the broth in Wilbur's noodles. 

"It's good to have you back." 

[hatrackandmartinis]

The voices of the lost

Chapter 1: Dazai

Date: 3 Dec 1999

Time:: 5:29pm

The therapist Mori gave me as a pity gift told me to write whenever I felt angry or needed to “express my emotions’, pathetic, but here goes 

I should not have come. Atsushi can go to hell for this, I hate the loud music, the noise, the bright lights, the crowds, just everybody. It’s basically my private hell. Whoever thinks that people who get bitches go here is stupid, like it’s noisy and loud and dirty and not like the places we go to. 

The booze tastes like shit. Ango’s whining with me while Oda just seems indifferent. He usually doesn’t care about where we’re going as long as there’s alcohol and very spicy curry rice. We finally see Atsushi and any resentment thaws away. The boy had that smile. That sunshine smiled like he didn’t give me hell by choosing this place.

Atsushi looks happy and I just sigh, never mind, let’s not resent some first year who goes to these overpriced thirst traps. Then there’s Kunikida, ugh, Kunikida an asshole, can he just get off my back? Just because we're in the same department and classmates and he’s the stupid “class” president with a stick up his ssshole, going on my back about being lazy.

 He’s horrible, not going to lie. Just so aggravating. I don’t hate him, I think he has nomredeemable qualities, just too idealist, too fucking stuck in his Kunikida-verse. Kunikida was telling me something along the lines of: Are you even listening? Have you finished the article? We need that article by today, Dazai!  Why are you even here?

I just sighed. So here’s a toast to you who clearly should work in a brothel, because she clearly doesn’t know who she is dealing with and because begging is a nice thing to do.

 Hey, Emiko, if you’re reading this, you’re really beautiful and would you like to engage in double suicidal together? Because you’re a fair woman and we both know I’m not exactly clean. So please, Emiko will you? I seriously need it, and don’t say it’s withdrawal symptoms, we both know it’s not. Plus you want me

 I blinked and just smiled and said, “Oh, it can wait, plus isn’t this a nightclub and not the office?”  Kunikida looked so bloody irritated with my shit, I don’t blame him. He just kept on chiding me about it. Ranpo was just flirting with that lit major he was obsessed with, Poe , I remember. With how much he talks about him, yeah.

Ranpo’s more fun to be around while Poe is…eh? I don’t know the guy well enough to make judgements. I saw Yosano Akiko. Okay, Akiko was easy to tolerate, she was fun to be around, Mori teaches her and she understands what it’s like. She was easy to talk to and didn’t give me any of the bullshit deep talk Kunikida gave me or the immaturity of Ranpo or Atsushi.

She wasn’t Oda mature but she was easy to talk to. I guess, there was a point where I didn’t need advice. I just 

needed someone that gets me, which is why I don’t like her, I relate to her too much to bang her (shocking but take whatever I say as you need to do your job better). 

I was talking to her when Kōyo showed up with Kyoko and I smiled. At least two really nice people came in also. I genuinely had a decent grin while just chatting with them. Then I saw him. Him. If there is one person I do not want to see at some stupid nightclub is Nakahara Chūya. 

That hatrack short staff carrot top is an annoying chihuahua with a stupid saviour complex. He’s worse than Kunikida. Chūya looked at me and said, “Can’t come to the party without looking like a social misfit, can you asshole?”  I was this close to asking him if he had rotted some brain cells with that growing STD in him

He’s too short to walk around looking like some Italian mafia. He was too snarky. He looked like he would punch you but let’s be real, he couldn't even lift a finger on anybody. I have stated in some of my entries about Chūya but you told me to ignore the shit he was throwing at me and that maybe I am “affected” by his words

I just said, “And Chibi, mind drinking some milk.” He said, “How’s the weather up there?” I just looked there and thought about his already small brain capacity getting decreased. How was this boy second to me? I wouldn’t even call him a man. He was too soft to be one.

I smirked and said, “That's all you got, Hat Rack?” I flicked his hat. He looked pissed and mumbled something like it’s a fashion statement. Yeah as if. Plus he wasn’t that tall to be a hat rack, for all I know, he was some stupid asshole with a bean pole body and an 8 year old playing dress up.

He was this close to yelling at me, yeah you’d say it’s my fault, but this dude is like some “boy saviour”, boys like him have some chip on their shoulder they keep whining about. Always so yes man and just some spineless doll who’d do anything their precious friends or family ask them to do.

Chūya said, “How’s your latest fling? I’ve been told your bed skills have a decline., and maybe the ladies have finally realized you have gonorrhea.”  I just looked at him and said, “Oh as if you’re still not a newborn virgin and kicking, shouldn’t you be at some kindergarten?”

Chūya said, “You’re like extra stuff wrapped all nice and warm with bandages.” Emiko, baby, I  laughed. I genuinely want him to go get a nice little girl/guy and just spend his time not being such a sexually frustrated no-life. Maybe I am hypocritical for saying that but who cares? 

We had a stare down and Atsushi was just talking to Kyoko. Those two were very close and I mean the platonically close children, with Kyoko having a brother complex. But anyway, I’m just here smirking down at the lil shorty while everyone else went their way. I guess you could say maybe Yosano and Kōyo have something, no I’m not in denial like you say I am.

Kunikida himself has found this lovely young woman he so claims, I think that Japan has become more desperate. I hate Naomi and Tachihara. Tachihara is so desperate on banging someone he’d bang his own sister. It’s honestly really disgusting even for my whore brain standard.

Now to get into your “amazing”  advice on my destructive behaviour. I am not some man who resents everyone falling in love as you so- call university relationships. University relationships are just nothing more than meandering horny new adults just getting off each other, it comes and goes,

You’re asking that maybe I’m right on keeping no strings attached because I’m clearly not in the right mind, I don’t do no strings attached cause why have one person when you can have ten. Why do I need to be in a committed relationship when I can just have fun? 

Yeah I know I got caught by the police. Life is like that, you have to break a few rules. I’m still young, yeah I know, that’s a horrible excuse, but you have to agree it’s the truth. I don’t know what you plan on achieving by making me share my life, but I obviously do not care. You’re no angel and so am I. 

I know this is your job, but we can do a whole lot of fun things than you trying to push your moral high ground advice on me. It ain’t worth it. You’re just a reminder once what humanity has become, hurts doesn’t it? To have someone who’s slapping you with reality.

Your therapy doesn’t help. It’s a waste of time for me and you, you constantly being there, being my age, while going to some high end university. We live in two worlds so stop acting like you being an intern is actually helping me? Were your bosses blind when they picked you because you can’t do your job right.

You heard me, Emiko, you can’t make it in life as a therapist because you got the whole package of  a good life. Nepotism baby, parents were legacy students, rich family, everything. So you can’t stand here violating my privacy and being a selfish brat when we know you’re into me.

You should be grateful I’m giving you any time of the day when you so clearly keep having this double standard. You as a therapist is not doing your job right and I wish you knew that you keep violating the laws, but I knew to be smart after your last call to my father, I’m writing a different account, 

This is my autobiography, not your pity idea of making me express my feelings. Go. To. Hell. Emiko. You violated my privacy as your client and you deserve it. You’re just another horrible person who went and bombed my life. And for that, how dare you? 

Anyway, besides me calling you out for things you can’t, I did finally find some girl who seemed really into me. Oh and the best part. She had opium cigarettes which helped a lot with the pounding headache Kunikida was raging on and on. I swear that man is like a wife with how bad his mood swings are.

I slurred, “Yeah, and? Get off my back.” Whats-her-name woke up and was clinging on to me. Pathetic girls and KUnikida was along the lines of, “Always being a failure, just a mess and never once thinking about anyone but yourself, dumb heap of rocks.” I just sighed, the drug hasn’t kicked in yet and this hurts. The headache. Not what he was saying.

I just groaned and said, “Can you leave me alone? I will come.” I just went and started dressing. That girl just said, “Come on and warm the bed.” I just pecked her on the forehead and left. This was as boring as they would say it was. Not worth my time. 

It was another hectic day as it goes and I just sat there, writing this. This is my autobiography. When a person finds it, I plan on making a name of myself so I can publish this and I decided that besides doing this, we criminal investigative journalists needed to stop having so much work.

Kunikida was still yelling about that stupid burglary article and I am kind of in a hurry to finish writing the article while I’m journaling and I decided that I have to do this because I do not want to get out of our project assignment, it was already getting a bit of money from this.

Chūya just sighs and keeps working like the little debbie downer he is. I sigh, that man is never pleased with anything. Always too ambitious and always too upset. Always having a vendetta with everybody for no apparent reason but just to have a fight.

I sighed and kept typing. The article was an easy assignment, never telling Kunikida that otherwise he’d just increase my workload. I just sighed and kept working, Kunikida can be so dense and it’s easy to play him the fiddle and understand where it is heading. 

I gave him the article and oh boy, he told me to catch up on the paperwork on the details of the place we’re investigating. Ugh, him and his paperwork, I swear to my own grave my cause of death was him and the paperwork because that sort of thing is boring, why do boring things when you can live in debauchery.

I mean we only live once right? And we can always take it

[pleasantspark]

Well the only good thing to come out of the election with Trump in office is that after he fucks up the country again, we as a collective society cannot reelect him because he's served 2 terms. He's done, and he will go down forever as the WORST PRESIDENT IN US HISTORY.

Everything else however is a consequence we Harris Voters have to suffer on behalf of the country whose so deluded into thinking they can afford houses and water, and think that the prices will go back to being a pea and a carrot.

These people should have their registration licenses revoked and we should at least take tests to make sure WHO can and can't vote. Wasn't the point of separating from the UK was to have a Freedom away from Monarchy/Dictatorship?

Did any of our ancestors even learn from History? I swear people voting are like fucking DBZ Fans, they can't read or even adult correctly.

Back to cheerful thoughts.