#i don’t understand how someone could say they’re conservative (proudly) and look at me and think ‘yeah i wanna date that’

[excelsior9173]

it will never fail to amuse me that some men can go through my entire hinge profile (that uses multiple pronouns, displays my tattoos and penchant for coloured hair, as well as my agnosticism/spirituality) and somehow decide i would be the perfect addition to their conservative, Catholic life???

like sir i am literally everything you people say you’re against. as if i’m going to give you a chance. they’d probably hate crime my sister and then i’d have to catch a criminal charge…

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Nine

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(fluff and smut)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Masterpost

Harry left early the next morning. He needed to get home to edit the photos he took on Friday. You took a shower, and got ready for your mom. She picked you up at noon like she said, and you headed to the mall.

“So, what do you need to shop for?” You ask her on the drive there.

“I wanted to go to Macy’s to look for a new comforter set. I had some coupons, and I’d really like a new one. You can pick one out too, if you want.”

“Thanks, I may have to take you up on that. How’s the baby?”

“Oh, he’s wonderful. I have my day with him tomorrow. I can try to Facetime you during lunch so you can see him, if you want.”

“I’d love that!”

Your mom pulls up, and parks near the Macy’s entrance. You walk with her to the bedding, and look at some sheets, these you could definitely use.

“Hey, mom what do you think of this color?”

“You really like blue don’t you?” She laughs. “Don’t you have these already? Why not go for like a blush purple.”

“Oo, that would be nice. I love a light purple.” You grab a pack of light purple sheets.

“Let’s go find some comforters to match.”

You two discuss which comforter would look good on her bed, and which one would look good on your bed. You find a white comforter that had purple and black flowers on it. A nice change from your plain, navy comforter. You two put everything in the car, and then head back into the mall to look at clothes.

“Do you need anything new for work?”

“Mom, you just spent like $200 on me, you don’t have to buy me clothes.”

“I really don’t mind sweetie, I like being able to do these things for you.”

“I have so many work clothes.”

“How about date clothes? You’re seeing someone now right? You’ll need some new clothes to add into your date night rotation.” You’re not sure how to explain that you’ve already moved past the date night phase.

“That would be great.” You smile at her.

You go in and out of a couple of stores, not finding the right fits. You start to wonder what stores Harry shops at.

“Honey?”

“Yeah, mom?”

“Do you have any pictures of Harry you could show me? I’d love to see what he looks like.” You reach for your phone, but then you remember you don’t have any pictures together.

“I don’t have any of him, but let me check his insta real quick.” You remember you haven’t even looked at the private account he let you follow. He’s not the selfie type, but you do find a pretty recent picture of him and Niall from around Niall’s birthday. “Here, he’s on the left, obviously, you know what Niall looks like.” Your mom takes your phone and squints.

“Oh my, he’s handsome! Well done.” She hands you back your phone.

“He’s kind of my boyfriend.” She stops short.

“Come again?”

“Last weekend, he asked me to be his girlfriend, and I said yes. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I was just trying to enjoy it before I told everyone.”

“He must really like you.”

“He does, and I really like him. I know it’s only been a month, but we have a great connection.”

“Alright, I’ll trust your judgement on this.”

You both continue walking. You decide to go into H n M. You could usually find something cute here. You and your mom split up so you can divide and conquer. You meet at the back where the dressing rooms are. You end up getting a green jumpsuit that had a cut out in the stomach. You and your mom decide it’s cute, and she buys it for you.

“Okay, you are now done spending money on me.” As your mom is about to respond, you hear someone call after her.

“Mrs. (y/last name)!” You both turn around and see Niall…and Harry. Shit. You’re not ready for him to meet your family. His face is red, he clearly isn’t ready either. Niall jogs over to you both, and Harry takes his time. He stands awkwardly, and mouths I’m sorry to you.

“Niall Horan, is that you?” She says, giving Niall a light hug. “Good to see you, honey.”

“Good to see ya too, what brings you into town.”

“Just taking my baby here shopping.” She coughs.

“Oh, sorry, um, mom, this is Harry, my boyfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He sticks his hand out to shake, but she swats it away.

“Don’t be silly.” You watch as your mom gives Harry a hug.

“What are you guys doing here?” I ask. You suddenly feel like a teenager, bumping into your crush.

“Boyo here needed some new jeans, so we’re on our way to J. Crew.” Niall answers for him.

“Would you boys like to have lunch with us before you shop? We were thinking of grabbing some food.” Your mom says.

“Mom, I’m sure they were just making a quick trip.”

“Lunch would be great.” Harry says, surprising you. “I’m starved actually. We were on our way to the Mexican restaurant just down there.”

“Mexican sounds great, are you okay with that sweetie?” Everyone is looking at you.

“Um, sure.”

Harry takes your hand in his as you walk to the restaurant. Niall makes conversation with your mom.  He pulls you closer to him so you can speak without being heard.

“I’m so sorry, I completely forgot you said you and your mum were coming to the mall.”

“No, it’s not your fault at all. Does Niall always go shopping with you?” You giggle.

“No! He asked me what I was up to, and I said I might come here, and he asked if he could come. I think he wanted to brag about Sarah. He also was really worried about you. Sarah told him everything.”

“Of course she did.” You roll your eyes.

You get to the restaurant and your mom asks for a table of four. You get seated pretty quickly at a booth, which makes things awkward because you really want to sit next to Harry, but don’t want your mom to feel awkward either.

“You two can sit next to each other.” Your mom smiles warmly. “You don’t mind, right Niall.”

“Not at all.” He slides in next to your mom. You sit across from her, and Harry across from Niall.

A waitress comes over with four waters, chips, and salsa. She leaves us to look at the menus.

“Honey, what do you think would work best for me?”

“I think taco salad would be pretty mild, mom.”

“So you don’t like spicy, but your daughter does? Interesting.” Harry says.

“When I was pregnant with her, I had cravings for buffalo chicken and all sorts of spicy food. I think that’s why she likes it so much. And it’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just more of an age thing.” She laughs. “(y/n), what are you gonna get?”

“I’m thinking some tacos with just veggies.” You furrow your eyebrows at the menu. “Would everyone eat guac if I order guac?” Everyone nods. “Great.” You smile.

The waitress comes back to take your orders. Harry orders vegetable nachos with dairy free cheese. No wonder he liked this place, lots of vegan options. Niall, being courteous, orders a vegetable enchilada. Niall has seen you gag at a table too many times, he knows better than to order meat around you.

“So, Harry, what do you do for work?” Your mom asks kindly.

“I’m a photographer. I work for a geographical magazine, and also do some freelance work on the side.”

“Oh wow, (y/n) used to be quite the skilled photographer. She took her own senior photos in high school.”

“Is that so?” He looks at you and smiles.

“Mom, please.” You beg her not to embarrass you.

“What? Everyone asked you where you got them done, remember?”

“Why did you take them yourself?” Niall asked.

“Because I know my best angles, and I actually hate when other people take my picture, so I just did it myself.” You shrug.

“Seems valid to me.” Harry also shrugs.

“So, tell me again, how exactly did you two meet?”

“I set them up.” Niall says proudly.

“We went out for dinner, and just hit it off.” Harry says with a smile. He places his hands on the table, and you think your mom’s eyes are going to pop out of her head.  

“Are those real gold?” She asks pointing to the rings.

“Um, yeah. I’m not sure, like, how many karats they are though. My mum got them for me when I finished grad school two years ago.”

“Ohh, well, they’re lovely nonetheless.” She squints at his nails. “What beautiful colors to have your nails painted. Not many people can pull that off, but it suits you dear.” Harry sees where you get your kindness and understanding from.

“Um, thank you, very much.”

“Now the tattoos on the other hand…” Your mom begins to tease, “well, if you ever meet my mother, you’ll want to cover them up.”

“Is she conservative?” He asks.

“No, we just can’t really do tattoos, and she’s a little blunter about that fact. She’s blunt about a lot of things.” Your mom starts laughing, and you start laughing because you know exactly what she’s thinking of. Harry and Niall give each other a confused look.

“Sorry, it’s so stupid. This one time my Nannie.” You stop because you can’t stop laughing and neither can your mom. “My Nannie saw that my uncle added to the sleeve he has, that already pisses her off, and from the other room we hear go ‘You look like a fucking idiot!’, and my mom started laughing, and my Nannie heard so, she started laughing and she laughed so hard she.” Tears are streaming down your cheeks, and the guys have started laughing. “She peed her pants!”

The waitress awkwardly brings all the food to the table while you all wipe your eyes. You all dig in, and enjoy light conversation as you eat. You and Niall talk about your recent project at work, and your mom shows everyone pictures of your nephew. The waitress bring the check over, and Harry and your mom both grab for it.

“Oh, that’s very kind dear, but I got it.”

“I insist, please let me pay for lunch.” Harry gives your mom a warm smile.

“Harry, you really don’t need to.” You start to say, but he ignores you. Your mom slowly lets go of the check.

You feel bad, he pays for way too many things for you.

“Thank you.” Your mom says.

“Not a problem.” Harry takes out some cash from his wallet, and Niall throws a few bills in as well. “That should take care of it.”

The boys slide out, and Harry extends his hand to help you up. You all walk out of the restaurant. It was a good lunch, and you were happy your mom seemed to get along with Harry, but you couldn’t shake the odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Well, it was so nice to meet you Harry.” Your mom gives him another hug, and turns to Niall to hug him. “And it’s always a delight sweetheart.”

“It was nice to meet you too. I’ll call you later, (y/n).” He leans in to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“Bye Mrs. (y/last name).” Niall waves, and the boys walk away.

“Oh, he is a keeper honey. I have never seen you with such an attractive man.”

“Mom, please.”

“Seriously, hold on to that one.” You roll your eyes at her, and make your way out to the parking lot.

Harry and Niall make their way into J. Crew. Harry grabs three pair of black jeans, and two pair of dark blue jeans. He grabs some t-shirts, and a couple of button ups. Niall mostly grabs some shirts and just one pair of pants. They each pay for their things, and head to Harry’s car.

“So, what did you think of (y/n)’s mum?” Niall asks him.

“She seemed really nice.” He shrugs. “Kind of an awkward way to meet her. Sort of a little soon to be meeting family, no?”

“Oh no, don’t start. You don’t get to ask that girl to be your girlfriend three weeks in, and then ask if it’s too soon to meet her mum.”

“You seemed to know her well.”

“I’ve been to a few of their family functions, yeah.”

“So what, were you like her go to date for things?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you went with her to Kate’s wedding.”

“I went with her to Kate’s wedding because it was right after she recovered from everything. She didn’t feel strong enough to go alone, otherwise she would have. Are you jealous?”

“No, I guess I’m just confused. You’ve known her for like what? Almost two years? How come you waited so long to introduce her to me?”

“You were still finishing up grad school, and honestly, you were still bein’a prick to girls.”

“Did you ever like her?”

“I thought she was cute, but the more we got to know each other, we both realized a friendship was what we both needed.”

“How did you not meet Sarah at Kate’s wedding?”

“We talked about that actually. We met briefly, but everyone was so preoccupied all night, so it’s not like we had time to really chat. You and (y/n) both came to my holiday party last year, you know?”

“Yeah, but we weren’t introduced.”

“Why are you gettin’ pissy all of a sudden?”

“I’m not gettin’ pissy.”

“Are you really mad that I know her mum well?”

“No.”

“Don’t do this.”

“Do what? What am I doing?”

“You’re actin’ like a fuckin’ baby. She’s yours, man, all yours. I’m her friend, her good friend that happened to be around during a shitty time. She didn’t know how to tell her mum about what happened, so she asked me to go with her the day she did for support. After that if there was a family party, I was also invited.”

“Wasn’t her family curious as to why you two weren’t dating though?”

“They asked us a couple times, but we just kept telling them it wasn’t like that.”

“You never thought of it?”

“Maybe once or twice, but after what happened, happened I stopped seeing her that way. I saw her as this woman who I wanted to be there for, almost like a sister.”

“I cried like a baby when she told me. Do you know if she ever pressed charges?”

“She didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve talked with her about it until I’ve been blue in the face, I think she just wanted to forget about it.”

“But he could easily do that to someone else.”

“Harry…”

“And then the next night when we hung out, we did stuff, man, good stuff, but I was so confused.”

“She’s in control of the situation with you. She feels safe, she doesn’t think you’re gonna do anything to hurt her. I’m really happy that she’s getting back to her old self. For a while there, I thought I had lost her. But slowly she’s been coming back to life, and you, well, every day she comes into work after one of your dates, she floats through the halls. Nothing could kill her good mood. Don’t doubt yourself. Besides, she’s good for you too.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re better when you have a lady in your life. You make more time for fun. You fall into your work too much, it’s not healthy, mate.”

“You know that night you came to pick her up from my place?”

“Yeah.”

“She mentioned how she didn’t have a toothbrush, and I literally went out the next day and got her a toothbrush. So the next time she came over, she’d feel more comfortable to stay over. I have this weird need to like keep her safe or something. Ugh, and she’s so cute and shy in the morning. Like it takes her an hour to come into herself.”

“You’ve really got it bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

Harry didn’t call you Sunday like he said he would, but you figured he was just busy. You went to bed early, and actually couldn’t wait to get to work Monday morning. You settled in, with a coffee waiting for you on your desk. You told Niall your mom would be Facetiming during lunch so you could see your nephew, if he wanted to join. The baby was in good spirits, and the call went by way too quick. You hadn’t heard from Harry all day. He did say this was a busy time of year for him. You couldn’t help but think your lunch yesterday truly was awkward.

You and Niall walked out of the building together, and headed your separate ways home. You contemplated driving straight to his apartment, but you didn’t want to push it. You went to the gym, and had a good session. When you got to your apartment, you decided to draw a relaxing bath for yourself. You had done some HIIT, and knew you’d be sore tomorrow. When you looked at your empty tub you sighed. You didn’t want to take this bath alone. You grab your phone and call Harry.

“Hi, love.”

“Hey.”

“What’s up?”

“Um, well, are you busy?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Um, I’m still at work, why?”

“Well, I was thinking of taking a bubble bath.” You say lowly, slightly embarrassed.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, and well, my tub…”

“Are you asking me to come over and take a bath with you?”

“Maybe.”

“I can be there in about twenty minutes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I should have wrapped up here a while ago anyways.” He sighs.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon.” You hang up and smile.

You get the bath ready, and put the bubbles in. You wrap yourself in your robe, and wait for Harry to show up. In thirty minutes, in true Harry fashion, you heard the buzzer go off, and you let him in. He walks in with his beanie on, dark circles under his eyes. He’s wearing a tattered blue t-shirt and black jeans. He looks at you in your robe, and nearly melts. He takes you in for a hug, and hold you tight.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call last night. By the time I got back from the mall, I realized how much work I really needed to do on my freelance shit. And then I got wrapped up in some other shit today. I have some sort of annoying news.”

“What’s that?” You ask, leading him down the hall to your bedroom.

“They’re making me travel this week.” You stop short, and look up at him. “Someone else was supposed to go, but they got strep throat, so they’re not allowed to go. I have to catch a flight tomorrow afternoon.”

“Where are they sending you?”

“New Mexico.”

“That’s exciting! How long will you be gone for?”

“Until Sunday.”

“That’s not so bad. I’m glad you came to see me tonight.”

“Me too. Now, let’s not let this warm water go to waste.”

He takes his beanie off, and shakes his hair out. He takes his shirt off, and you can’t help but stare at his perfect torso. As he goes to unzip his pants, he makes eye contact with you.

“Staring?”

“N, no.” You say as he chuckles.

You untie the front of your robe, and slip it off. He watches you climb in, and you lean your back against one end. Harry slips his boxers off, and gets in, leaning against the oppose side. He furrows his eyebrows while looking at you.

“What?” You finally say.

“Why you so far away from me? C’mere.” He holds his arms out for you. You inch towards him, and turn around, so you can lean your back against him. “See, much more comfortable.”

“You just wanted to stretch those long legs out.” He squeezes his leg against yours, and wraps his arms around your stomach. “So, what did you think of yesterday?”

“Not how I pictured meeting your mum, but it was fine. Did she like me?”

“Like you? She raved about you the entire time. She thought you were cute and funny.”

“When you two were telling that story about your grandmum, I thought she was going to wet herself.” You immediately start laughing at the memory of your Nannie peeing her pants in front of you. It’s a throaty laugh, but you don’t care. You start to feel tears in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, that is just one of the funniest things I have ever seen her do. And she has done a lot of funny things.”

“You’re close with her?”

“Very.”

“That’s nice.”

“She had my uncle and mom at a really young age, so they’re all close too. It’s nice to see. My mom was like old when she had me.”

“How old is old?”

“Thirty-five. She was twenty-six when she had my oldest sister.” There’s a pause between the two of you as he takes in this information.

“What made you want to take a bath tonight?”

“I did sort of an intense workout and I wanted my muscles to relax.”

Harry starts rubbing your shoulders, and you lean into him further. Your head leans forward as he works your neck. His large hands feel like heaven as they knead into you. His hands move lower down your back. He kneads just above your bum.

“Oh, Harry.” You lean your head back against his shoulder. His hands travel around to your stomach and move up to your breasts. You hiss at his touch as he twists your piercings slightly.

“Are you sure you got these just for fun?” He says into your ear.

“What, what do you mean?” You’re breathing heavy.

“You really like when I pinch you, and twist.”

“Y,yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Harry.” You lean as far back into him as you can, and you feel him harden against you.

He’s going to be gone for the rest of the week. You want to make him feel good. You turn around to face him, breaking contact for only a moment, his hands go right back to your chest. Your hands reach below the water, and slide up his thighs, sending a shiver up his spine.

“Harry, can I touch you?” You say looking up at him through your eye lashes.

“Please.”

You scoot closer, putting your legs over his. He leans in to kiss you. You taste mint as his tongue goes into your mouth. Your fingers trail up to his tip, and your thumb runs over his slit. He takes a deep breath, and presses his lips to the crook of your neck, biting down slightly. Your hand starts to pump him slowly, as his breathing becomes more rapid, so does your hand. You love the way you need to basically pump him with both hands because his length is so big. You had been with taller men before, they usually had a bigger dick, but none had one like Harry’s. He had girth, and you couldn’t help but imagine would it would feel like to have him stretch you out as he pushed inside you. You shake the thought from your head, and focus on pumping him. You feel his slick precome all over your hands. His kisses on your neck become sloppy, and his hands move from your breasts to around your hips, pressing into you. For a moment, you think it might leave a bruise with the way he’s holding onto you. Normally this would make you stop, but you know he’s not intentionally trying to hurt you. You hear groans and curse words come from his mouth.

“I’m gonna come, (y/n).” He says releasing his teeth from your skin. “Can I come on your tits?”

You nod your head yes. He swiftly stands up in the tub, your hands cling to his thighs as he takes control of himself. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you watch his own hands work over himself. You tilt your head back, and push your breasts up to give him a target.

“Ah, fuck.” You hear him say as the warm liquid shoots to your chest, and drips down to your torso. He slowly sits back down in the water, planting a kiss to your forehead. You reach for your washcloth, but he snatches it from you. Harry dips it into the water, and wipes you off.

“Thank you.” You coo.

“No, thank you.” He smiles at you hazily.

You both stand up, and he grabs two towels. He wraps one around his waist, and wraps the other around you.

“Harry, will you stay tonight?” You ask as you climb over the edge of the tub.

“On a school night?” He asks with an eyebrow raised and a grin. “Isn’t that against the rules?”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” You wink at him.

“I’d love to stay.” He wraps his arms around you, bringing you close to his chest.

You put on a large t-shirt and a pair of cotton panties, while he just puts his boxers back on. You make a couple of smoothies for dinner, and then climb into bed together. You’re snuggled to his chest, while you both scroll on your phones.

“(y/n), I have a favor to ask you.” You look up at him, he seems nervous.

“What’s up?”

“Well, I was wondering, if I left a key to my place with you, could you water my plants while I’m gone this week?” You think for a moment. Niall has a key to his place, why not just ask him? Because Harry wanted you at his place. He wanted to know that you were there while he was gone. He wanted you to take care of his things.

“Sure, I could do that.”

“Really? You don’t mind?”

“Not at all, babe.” You give him a quick peck on his cheek. You notice the time on the clock, and see it’s almost ten. “I need to try to go to sleep now so I’m not tired tomorrow morning.

“Alright.” He leans over and turns the side table lamp off. You both slide further under the covers. “Could I, um, be little spoon?”

“Of course!”

Harry turns over with a smile on his face as your legs become tangled, and you’re pressed against his back. You both soon drift off into sleep happy and comfortable.

[thelastyetfabolousmidwestmadman]

Detective Conan Deconstruction/Plot Twists/Subversion's

Howdy!

I've been thinking a lot because I haven't slept or been made sensible enough to see reality through rational means of comprehension.

For a black and white series of tales such as Gosho Aoyama's DCMKverse I can sure think of a multitude of ways to turn it grey. So many dark, bloody possibilities, such a endless plethora of grief, angst, and schadenfreude, of voided bowels and lost innocence, so many terrifying ideas yet so little time...

Anyway, to summarize the contents of all that verbal diarrhea, my mind has created a vast orchestra of sinister ideas that I can't put them all in one or more stories. Some of them I'll use later, some of them I will not. I guess my main inspiration for this stream of consciousness that shouts madly into the abyss of the World Wide Web, is the idea that some intrepid, curious wanderer may come across my inane rantings and be inspired to write their own atrocities.

Or maybe it will the stoke the wondrous imagination of a writer who is more of a sick fuck then I am, (:

There are five areas that can be twisted into something cruel. They contain the following:

Cases

Heists

Romance

Character Flaws

Black Organization

Get it on!

Case’s

Suspect Gets The Last Laugh- Killer is revealed but manages to poison the victim with Ricin or something more subtle allowing the target to die a couple days later. Simple enough.

More Then One Killer- The killer is caught! However a quick look back at the scene reveals he wasn’t alone and he ain’t spilling the beans.

Hannibal Lector Wannabe- A killer decides to fuck with our beloved Teen Detectives by playing a game of manipulation and horror while he threatens their loved ones into continuing.

Escaping Through Statute Of Limitations- When Our Teen Detectives decide to give their customary breaking speech,

Killer Gets Out Of It, Now After Detectives- The killer proves much too clever and sees through our casts tricks. Maybe he begin’s to notice Conan’s con and swears revenge out of his ego.

Loved Ones Hurt In The Crossfire- They were too quick for Conan’s soccer ball, Heiji’s sword, Kogoro’s Judo, or Division One’s reflexes. The bullets, blades, bludgeons. and Pelvic Thrusts couldn’t be avoided and the innocent were hurt before they could be saved.

It’s Too Much All At Once- When the cast see a suspect state his intention to kill himself, especially in the early episodes, the cast would dare them to do it, thinking it is a bluff. It isn’t.

All For Naught- Going down a dark rabbit hole isn’t worth it, if a killer turns out to have escaped or has been dead for a long time.

Big Troll- There was no murder or kidnapping, they just wanted to humiliate them.

Green Mistake- Not all detectives succeed at once. Sometimes they make mistakes... Okay just here me out here. I sincerely doubt that all those amateur detectives despite their talent have a perfect track record in solving cases or even not getting a innocent person hurt. Just look at Heiji’s, Kogoro’s, and Sera’s early (or in Kogoro’s case many) mistakes. It’s statistically impossible to get it right all the time.

Victim Is Worse- Conan and the gang successfully prevent a client from being murdered. The criminal screams at them, telling them how evil he was, and how this was mistake. When they learn of the clients sick actions, they understand why.

Romance

Waiting For Someone Who Is No Longer There- Lets think about the situation between Shinichi and Ran for a sec. if your like me you come to a unfortunate realization that was also in the OVA “Stranger In 10 Years.” Shinichi may never get back to the way he was. Maybe there is no antidote. What if he disappears in that time? And I don’t mean move on, I mean dies without anyone knowing. Ran now has to deal with both a missing Shinichi and a vanished Conan. Yet, throughout her whole life Ran holds out hope, waiting for them. Waiting for Shinichi to call. She refuses to fall in love with someone else and becomes obsessed with finding them... Until in her old age, she dies.

The Sleeping Sleuth Sleeps Around- Okay just listen to my reasoning here for a sec. I know many of you are probably sharpening their knives in the comments but let’s really think about this for a sec. This is the same Kogoro who smacked the butt of one of the Black Bunnies, and repeatedly motorboats whatever young woman he comes across. I doubt if Eri is okay with that. Plus, alcoholism and nymphomania is not a winning combination. He could easily make a mistake while in his delirium.

Shinichi’s Toxic Jealousy- Once again bear with me on this. I don’t think either Shinichi (or Kogoro for that matter) are evil. They have flaws just like any other person. However, Shinichi can be sort of a dick with it comes to how territorial he is with Ran. Just look at Eisuke. Unlike most of the perverts who are after her, Eisuke is a genuinely nice guy and Shinichi treats him like garbage. That got me thinking... Maybe Shinichi’s claims about wanting Ran to be happy aren’t entirely true. A part of him knows what he’s doing is wrong but a selfish side can’t. What if Shinichi’s jealousy starts to hurt Ran severely? Again it have to be written well so Shinichi doesn’t come off like a unrepentant dick but I think there’s something there.

Character Flaws

Hot Headedness Get You Or Others Killed- This idea concerns Heiji mostly. A rather temperamental fellow isn’t he? Always rushing into danger without thinking or having trouble with guile... Ain’t that a losing combination innit? I wonder how many criminals can take advantage of that eh? How easy it would be to trick Heiji to go into a trap if Kazuha is threatened, how simple it would be to switch a blunted blade with a sharpened one, how effortless it would be to get important information, how utterly painless it would be to manipulate him... Well I’ll leave you lovely sick bastards to come up with more.

Dysfunction Junction- Let’s talk about the Mouri’s. They’re... Not healthy to say the least. With Kogoro’s gambling/drinking/man-whoring problem barely touched upon, as well as his abuse of Conan along with Eri’s absenteeism I can say that’s a huge target for blackmailers, debt collectors, and Count Of Monte Crisco wannabes.

Conan The Gremlin- Y’know for such a seemingly innocent little boy, he sure gets into a lot of trouble don’t he? Murders keep happening around him like a curse, and that animal tranquilizer can’t be healthy for Sonoko and Kogoro... Plus people could find out who he truly is and... Well it would probably be really messy wouldn’t it?

Incompetence From The Police- In all seriousness, let’s think about this for a second. You have a overburdened police dealing with a intense rise in the murder rate, illicit narcotic consumption, and terrorism... But before we can get any further let’s talk about real life Japanese criminal procedure. In Japan you can be held for 21 days in a tiny dark cell without due process or access to a lawyer. Your are also being interrogated with the police officers using abusive tactics such as telling you how ashamed your family would be, something that can’t happen in a culture based on Confucian values. You confess but take it back only to find that you’re basically fucked since Japan has a 99% conviction rate regardless of innocence. If your a drug addict, you are literally considered nonhuman by the public at large and due to the Reaganite standards treatment isn’t a option. If your on death row, you are never told when your going to die and even if innocent is unlikely to get out. Stressed at the rising crime rate, the police refuse to investigate any suspicious death and just like in Osaka (yes this actually happened) will simply not add to the police statistics. If your a police officer what are you to do? Just a few years ago there was so little crime and now your stressed to the bone. You’re largely conservative and full of pride so you won’t admit that you must change tactics. This quick jump to conclusions and borderline incompetence can be seen in so many episodes of Detective Conan that’s it’s a wonder that more people haven’t been wrongfully convicted or got away with it... Or perhaps they have.

Black Organization

Government Corruption- Given how much sway the BO has, it got me thinking. What if everything wrong with the Japanese Government is because the BO IS the government. Something sorta akin to how the Russian Mob are basically government officials. So many possibilities other then the usual blackmail, assassinations, and bombings. Electoral fraud, jury tampering, manufacturing consent, subtle revisions of the law to encroach on democratic rights such as those the Third Way, and Neoconservatives did in the west. So many more subtle yet intriguing ways to go about this! Perhaps the BO serves as a lobbying for other more savory companies that proudly align with them such as legalizing gambling or deregulating protections.

Caught!- The BO discovers Conan’s true identity. Hell follows.

Heists

Heist Bombing- Some madman or maybe the MK organization decides to bomb the Kid Heist. Lots of people die, are traumatized and have to deal with the aftermath. I’ll leave the rest up to you guys.

Crazy Fans- Self explanatory until you really think about it. If Kaito Kid is real in this universe, how toxic is the fandom? How many of them have pedophilic undertones with the beloved Kid Killer? What if a stalker discovers Kaito’s real identity and goes psychotic? Riots could happen! So many possibilities! Doesn’t have to dark like in my sick mind, can be played for laughs.

One last thing, because of how long this took to write, a certain beloved detective’s birthday is here.

So HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHIN-CHAN!!!

[pictureamoebae]

idk how i'm supposed to reconcile my desire to not see the tories in office with my continually reinforced belief that labour leadership in general and jeremy corbyn in particular actively despise jewish people and wish me and my kind harm. there's been too many incidents, each one fouler than the last, over the past months. i want johnson out but i have no faith in the alternative's desire to keep me safe either and idk what to do

Politics.

A simple answer to a complex problem. And now a complex post to a simple question.

This will be very long, but I’m not going to put it behind a cut because it’s too important.

Nothing I say here will cut through to make you feel any more or less safe. What I want to do first is to say I do not doubt for one moment you have fears. Whatever I say next comes from as much a place of wanting you to be and feel safe as anything else. Please keep that in mind if you at any point think I’m attacking your deeply-held fears. I am not. If I’m attacking anything, it’s those who seek to weaponise your fears for their own gain.

While I continue, I’d ask you to keep asking these questions: who is saying things against Corbyn, what are their politics, what kind of world do they want to see, who do they want me to vote for, what are their interests (not as in, do they like music, but as in where do their political interests lie, how do they benefit from society under different governments)? These are good questions to ask when you hear any kind of political claim being made, whether it’s a manifesto pledge, a jibe at a political opponent, or an otherwise seemingly ‘neutral’ article in a newspaper. Everything is stated from a political position, no matter how hard someone works to hide that. And some people work very hard to hide it. Why?

First, I’ll talk about Jeremy Corbyn and his beliefs. You’ll have seen, no doubt, the picture of him being arrested for protesting against apartheid in South Africa? I’ll use this as a jumping off point because it’s in the news today. It’s emblematic of Corbyn’s lifelong approach.

One of the things that Corbyn’s supporters love about him in particular is that he’s a peacemaker. It’s also one of the things that frustrates us the most. 

Love: because his approach to foreign policy has always been one of recognising the necessity of dialogue. It proves an easy stick to beat him with because it’s seen him working to bring all sides together in Northern Ireland (something the Conservative government at the time was also doing in their own way, along with others in Labour), or trying to diffuse tensions and encourage constructive talks in the Middle East, for example. It’s why he was so outspoken in his opposition to illegally invading Iraq (we hit upon one reason here why Tony Blair might have a personal interest in discrediting Corbyn: his involvement in Iraq would be under more scrutiny with a Corbyn-led Labour Party in charge). The list is endless, and he has been proven time and time again to be on the right side of history when it comes to his desire to make peace, not war.

Frustrates: because his natural desire to make peace sees him be far too conciliatory when it comes to both internal Labour Party matters and his approach to media hostility. Backing down on open selection (also known as mandatory reselection) will be seen as one of the biggest mistakes of his leadership in years to come. Time and time again he’s held out the olive branch because his opponents demand it, only to see them set fire to the branch, crush the ashes beneath their heels, and then turn around and say “pass us an olive branch”. One criticism we hear a lot is “Corbyn isn’t a leader”, and the only time I will ever agree that his leadership has been lacking is on this matter. He should have been more forthright and stood his ground. But such is the contradiction at the heart of what makes him the good person he is: that’s not his style. He’s a peacemaker.

Back to his arrest for protesting against South African apartheid. Corbyn served on the national executive of the Anti-Apartheid Movement that was “a British organisation that was at the centre of the international movement opposing the South African apartheid system and supporting South Africa’s non-White population who were persecuted by the policies of apartheid.” At the time, the Tories were pro-apartheid, and could even sometimes be found wearing “hang Nelson Mandela” stickers at their conferences and party events. Standing up so proudly against apartheid wasn’t a popular position to hold at the time. And yet he did it, because it was right.

In 1985 Corbyn was appointed national secretary of Anti-Fascist Action. I don’t know how old you are or your familiarity with British political history, but anti-fascist action in the UK has always centred around defending Jewish people from fascist groups and attack. In the 1970s he organised a demonstration against a National Front march through Wood Green. The National Front were on the rise in the 70s, and it’s seen as something of a golden era by today’s fascists in groups like the EDL who would take us back to that, and go beyond it, if they could. This is just one example of Corbyn directly putting his body on the line to defend Jewish people and others against fascists, following in the footsteps of his mother, who was at the Battle of Cable Street. In his role as parliamentarian, he signed numerous Early Day Motions condemning antisemitism, stretching back decades before he became leader, something that has been recognised in the Times of Israel. In 1987 Corbyn joined Jewish campaigners to stop the demolition of a Jewish cemetery by Islington Council (the demolition was, I note, supported by Margaret Hodge). More recently, in 2010, he petitioned parliament to help resettle Yemeni Jews fleeing from conflict. 

There are countless other examples of his work to support Jewish people, as well as him being a friend to pretty much every other minority people you can think of. It’s not just empty words and platitudes, it’s real action, for decades.

Let me give you an extract from an ‘expose’ meant to discredit Corbyn, and tell me what you think of him after this:

“Dressed in a dirty jacket and creased trousers, Jeremy Corbyn arrived in Westminster as a new MP in the summer of 1983.

He immediately told friends that Parliament was ‘a waste of time’ with no relevance to his Islington constituents, especially the immigrant communities.

To meet them, he set up offices in the Red Rose Centre in Holloway where his door was always open to a tide of human misery: Cypriots, Jamaicans, Indians, Pakistanis, South Africans, South Americans, Somalis, West Saharans and Kurds all sought his help.

The procession of petitioners reinforced his conviction that Britain should allow unrestricted immigration – and offer the world’s destitute an open invitation to share our wealth.

In his opinion, all immigrant communities were victims of white imperialists, and the British state owed them a financial obligation. Anyone who disagreed was racist.”

This was intended as a ‘gotcha’ to prove to right wing readers what a dangerous man Corbyn is. They’re right, he is dangerous. Dangerous to fascists. Dangerous to racists. Dangerous to anyone who wants to take away your liberty, to anyone who wants to harm the vulnerable in society.

So how do we align all of this with what we’ve heard in the press over the past five years? Hopefully the extract above, which was printed in the Daily Mail, starts to make it clear what’s going on. Corbyn has always, throughout his career and before he was elected to parliament, fought tirelessly for peace, for reconciliation, for minority populations here and around the world, including Jewish people. Even before he became leader (outshining even Blair’s popularity at his height among party members), there were people of all political stripes who wanted to discredit him, not even necessarily because they disliked him, but because they despised what he stood for and continues to stand for. 

We’re not just talking about people who want to be able to say and do racist things, but people who have an interest in our political and economic system continuing as it has so they can maintain their economic, social, cultural, and political power. It’s impossible to overstate how important and crucial this point is. It cuts to the heart of everything.

Look at this, from the Labour manifesto that was launched today:

Introduce a War Powers Act to ensure that no prime minister can bypass Parliament to commit to conventional military action. Unlike the Conservatives, we will implement every single recommendation of the Chilcot Inquiry.

Conduct an audit of the impact of Britain’s colonial legacy to understand our contribution to the dynamics of violence and insecurity across regions previously under British colonial rule.

Invest an additional £400 million in our diplomatic capacity to secure Britain’s role as a country that promotes peace, delivers ambitious global climate agreements and works through international organisations to secure political settlements to critical issues.

Establish a judge-led inquiry into our country’s alleged complicity in rendition and torture, and the operation of secret courts.

Issue a formal apology for the Jallianwala Bagh massacre, and hold a public review into Britain’s role in the Amritsar massacre.

Allow the people of the Chagos Islands and their descendants the right to return to the lands from which they should never have been removed.

Uphold the human rights of the people of West Papua and recognise the rights of the people of Western Sahara.

Immediately suspend the sale of arms to Saudi Arabia for use in Yemen and to Israel for arms used in violation of the human rights of Palestinian civilians, and conduct a root-and-branch reform of our arms exports regime so ministers can never again turn a blind eye to British-made weapons being used to target innocent civilians.

Reform the international rules-based order to secure justice and accountability for breaches of human rights and international law, such as the bombing of hospitals in Syria, the illegal blockade of the Gaza Strip, the use of rape as a weapon of war against the Rohingya community in Myanmar and the indiscriminate bombardment of civilians in Yemen.

We will work through the UN and the Commonwealth to insist on the protection of human rights for Sri Lanka’s minority Tamil and Muslim populations.

Appoint human-rights advisers to work across the Foreign Office and government to prioritise a co-ordinated approach to human rights.

Advocate for human rights at every bilateral diplomatic meeting.

There are an awful lot of consequences to carrying out these policies. For example, Tony Blair and David Miliband are implicated in rendition, and it stands to reason they will do everything in their power to ensure they aren’t brought to justice for it, or even exposed to scrutiny over it. On the matter of arms sales, not only does it have ramifications for one of the most profitable industries, it also cuts straight to the heart of how and why we choose the international allies we do, and the power relationships inherent in that. This isn’t just a disagreement of opinion, this is threatening to change how we’ve done international politics for a generation or more. It doesn’t get more serious than this. As far as anyone who has an interest in things staying as they are, he must be stopped, by any means necessary.

Let’s talk about antisemitism. Labour is a broad party that reflects a wide range of people and a wide range of opinions from all walks of life and from all corners of the country. It stands to reason that every opinion, thought, and position you can imagine exists in wider society will be found somewhere among Labour members, by virtue of it being a mass membership party. There are terfs in the Labour Party, there are racists in the Labour Party, there are homophobes in the Labour Party, there are sexists in the Labour Party, there are antisemites in the Labour Party – because there are all those kinds of people in our country. There are all those kinds of people in the SNP. There are all those kinds of people in the Tory Party. There are all those kinds of people in the Green Party. There are all those kinds of people in the Lib Dems. What it speaks to, primarily, is the work we have to do, as a country, to educate and counter those bigotries across society. Where they rear their head within the party they must be stamped out immediately. It must be made clear that a socialist party is no place for bigotry and hatred. I think I’ve made it clear above that Corbyn is not an antisemite, and in fact has spent his entire life fighting against antisemitism, including putting his body on the line.

It has become increasingly striking that, over the past five years, Labour has been held to a far greater standard than any other party when it comes to antisemitism or any other kind of bigotry. Boris Johnson’s comments about watermelon smiles and letterboxes get passing comment, Sayeeda Warsi saying that Islamophobia is rampant in the Tory Party and she doesn’t feel safe there is quickly swept under the carpet. Compare the endless months of hand-wringing over Labour’s discussions over adopting the IHRA working definition of antisemitism to the Conservative’s refusal to adopt similar recommendations by the Muslim Council of Britain over anti-Muslim bigotry.

Yesterday a prominent political journalist tweeted that a Tory candidate had been expelled for antisemitism, and in the same tweet she said that a chair of a local CLP (constituency Labour Party – CLPs are the local organising groups for each constituency in the country) had resigned. In the tweet she linked to a BBC article about the CLP chair resignation. Let’s look at what’s going on here. Firstly, she gave both of these news items the same weight by putting them together in the same tweet. Second, she only linked to the story about the CLP chair, suggesting that was the more important of the two. The CLP chair resigned not over antisemitism or anything like that, but because they were disgruntled at how the selection for their local parliamentary candidate went. If you’ve ever been to a CLP meeting you’ll know that everyone is disgruntled about something. It’s hardly national news. But of course, it is. Because it was decided at some point over the past five years that everything that happens in the Labour Party must be forensically dissected and assessed as a real blow to Corbyn, or proof that Corbyn is terrible. Whereas the real story, that a Tory candidate was expelled for antisemitism, is barely a footnote. Why? Keep asking why.

I don’t know what your opinions are about politics in the United States, or whether you follow it at all, but when asking ‘why?’ it might be useful to think about what’s happening over there and how it compares and contrasts to what’s happening over here. Think about the reaction to Ilhan Omar, the inherent anti-Muslim sentiment and racism in opposition to her, and the way her critics have tried to suggest she is antisemitic. Think about those progressives in the UK who support her and see it as ridiculous scaremongering with a political motive, and how some of those are the same people who throw as much invective at Corbyn as they can. Think about the differences in how progressive politics in the US and progressive politics in the UK are presented. Think about how the same accusations of antisemitism are made against Bernie Sanders, a Jewish man who is open about his support for Israel. Think about those things and ask whether, perhaps, the wider politics of those involved might be behind some of what’s going on.

I’ll end by telling you about me and where I live. I live in Stoke-on-Trent. We have three MPs across the city: Gareth Snell here in Stoke Central, Ruth Smeeth in Stoke North, and a Tory in Stoke South, who in 2017 very narrowly beat Rob Flello, who had been the Labour MP there for quite a while. Rob is a Catholic, and has centred his Catholicism in a lot of his politics. Ruth is Jewish, and has been one of the high profile voices to speak against Corbyn. Despite going to university with Gareth and my husband working with him for years in our previous MP’s office and being his close friend, I don’t know his religious affiliation, if he even has one. I disagree with all three of them on the basis of their politics. 

I’m very glad Rob is no longer in the party, he was an embarrassment, and should have gone years ago. Rob used his Catholicism as an excuse to pursue some awful political positions (against abortion, for example), all the while being an enormous hypocrite (I won’t spill the tea about his personal life, it would be unbecoming). I think you’d agree that it’s possible for me to disagree with his politics, and to even discuss how they intersected with his version of Catholicism, without being bigoted towards Catholics or wishing them harm or wanting Catholicism to be wiped out. My mother is Catholic. (I’m forever grateful her and my dad decided not to assign me a religion, instead leaving it up to me. Their one moment of progressive thinking!)

I disagree with Gareth’s politics, despite as I explained my and my husband’s history of friendship with him, and will be eternally angry with myself for signing his nomination papers in 2017 when he was selected as our candidate to stand against Paul Nuttall of UKIP in the infamous Stoke Central by-election. What’s important here, in our relationship and out of it, is the politics. My anger isn’t at his life, his family, or whatever faith he does or does not hold, but rather at his deceit towards us in the CLP, and his awful, awful approach in parliament towards Brexit.

I disagree with Ruth’s politics, as does my husband, despite him campaigning very hard and being instrumental locally for getting her selected as the candidate for Stoke North back in the day. I disagree with her handling of Brexit, which follows the same line as Gareth’s. They’re both at risk of losing their seats at the election, and have calculated that by doing all they can to seem as though they are Brexit MPs they’ll claw back the support Labour has already lost to the Tories and Brexit Party, not realising that support left long ago and won’t come back just because they personally keep voting against the Labour whip. In the meantime they’re making it increasingly difficult for us to oppose no deal or Johnson’s hard Brexit. I also disagree with Ruth because she’s helped weaponise instances of antisemitism as a way to discredit the left. Just as I disagree with any MP who has done that, regardless of their ethnicity or religion. Because, as I have said before, it’s the politics that matter. Just as I can disagree with Rob, even on matters that centre his Catholicism, without it being an attack on Catholics, so too can I disagree with Ruth, even on matters that centre her being Jewish, without it being an attack on Jewish people. And this is where we get into the nuts and bolts of the thing.

I met Chris Williamson a while back, bumping into him at Derby train station. My husband knows him (he knows everyone in the Labour Party, social butterfly that he is), and so we went to say hi. It was the first time I’d met him. I was very clear that, despite my anxiety and hate of confrontation, were he to say anything diminishing antisemitism I was going to speak out. And I did, because he did. The weird thing about Chris is that he was long known as a wonderful anti-racism campaigner and a true friend of the vulnerable and minorities. Something twisted him. Over the past few years it’s like he decided to court controversy, to push as many buttons as he could, to see how far he could go, digging his heels in no matter the cost. I think he should have been kicked out a long time ago, once he made it clear he didn’t care about the damage he caused, either to the Party or to Jewish people, because he was on his own political crusade. I don’t believe he is personally antisemitic, but there comes a point where his actions speak louder than his words, and the effects of his behaviour might as well have an antisemitic root for the harm they cause. I’m glad he was finally kicked out, and I’m furious he’s standing as an independent, risking turning Derby North Tory at a time when the very people he says he cares about, the poor, the vulnerable, migrants, disabled people, need a Labour government more than anything else and cannot survive another five years of Tory rule.

The very real fears Jewish people hold have been weaponised by the right, who always try to seed fear over hope because it gets them votes, and likewise the whole resulting situation has been further exacerbated by people like Chris. I’m infuriated by it all, not least because I don’t doubt that a high proportion of British Jewish people genuinely are scared. But because of political interests and political positioning, their fears are being exploited and redirected away from where they should be to precisely where they shouldn’t. It should be clear to you from what I’ve posted above that you’d be hard pressed to find a non-Jewish MP who has worked more tirelessly than Jeremy Corbyn to protect and defend Jewish people against fascists, just as he has worked tirelessly to defend all minorities. At a time when the far right is on the march, burning synagogues, shooting gay people and Sikhs and Muslims, to have our attention diverted away to focus on the best hope we’ve had in generations to stop it is madness. It’s motivated by political interest, whether that’s on behalf of the Conservative party and general right wing politics (let’s not forget some important points here, like Stephen Pollard being a staunchly right wing Conservative supporter, or like Maureen Lipman announcing her ditching Labour not once, but twice – the first time being under Ed Miliband’s leadership (himself Jewish), because of his support for Palestinian rights). Politics is at the heart of it all. 

Politics is at the heart of it all.

Politics is at the heart of it all, and just as working class people are used as pawns, pitted against migrants and having their fears about precarity and poverty and security weaponised to divert attention away from the real causes of their immiseration, so too are Jewish people being used as pawns, having their real fears exploited to discredit the only chance we’ll have in our lifetimes of defeating the right.

As I said at the start, I don’t expect what I’ve written here will make you feel any more safe. I hope it doesn’t make you feel any less safe. I just ask that you think about the politics of it all, and remember those questions I asked at the beginning: who is saying things against Corbyn, what are their politics, what kind of world do they want to see, who do they want me to vote for, what are their interests, how do they benefit from society under different governments? I ask you to remember that everything is stated from a political position, no matter how hard someone works to hide that. And that some people work very hard to hide it. Why?

Lastly, I want you to know that the very core of my politics is justice. Justice, empathy, fairness. I couldn’t be a socialist without those tenets at the centre of it all. Our world is burning. Our people are dying. This is all only going to get worse. Official figures are that 130,000 people have died unnecessarily as a direct result of Tory austerity. Those figures were released some time ago, so it is surely more now. Millions have already been displaced around the world as a result of the climate catastrophe. Millions more will be displaced, in ever more horrific events, over the next few years. As people have to move around the globe we will see increasing international tensions, bloody clashes, inhumane national policies aimed at keeping those people away, more bodies in trucks, more children washed up dead on beaches, more people killed in sectarian wars. If we continue to turn a blind eye to the rise of the right, we’re condemning millions to untold suffering. If we re-elect a Tory government we’re condemning millions to untold suffering. If we turn to centrism, a system responsible for that rise of the right, a system that has no answers and wants to simply manage things around the edges, we are condemning millions to untold suffering.

What kind of world do you want to see? What kind of world do those who disparage Corbyn despite his well-documented history want to see?

Politics. The simple answer to the complex problem.

[specialmindz]

“LOOK SNAS! Weaves.” Papyrus held out his gloves to show his brother the handful of wet leaves he had picked off the ground, wearing a big smile…though it was a tad TOO big for Sans liking…  

“yep, those are leaves all right...you’re not gonna eat those are ya’?”

“Course’ not stink head,” said the baby bones, slightly insulted. “Unlike you big Buther, I knows the difference between clothes and food. You think the baby be stupid?”

“i don’t eat trees and those aren’t clothes. trees don’t wear leaves to stay warm, otherwise they wouldn’t be on the ground come winter.”

“They’re hats Snas, and hats are clothes. Twees doesn’t wear them during winter cause’ they all worn out,” Papyrus picked up a leaf. “See dis leaf? It gots holes in it. Not good. They needs new hats.”

“no they don’t, the leaves collect sunlight for them so they can get energy, pappy. There’s holes in them because insects are eating them.”

Apparently, he thinks I’M stupid…

“Not erybody a twee-eating woah-bot Snas…sides’ we’s underground silly bones!”

“i’m not-”

“And the sun don’t go out in winter! Nyeh heh heh!”

Sans gave his brother a look, but stayed silent. He knew full well that his younger sibling was just waiting for him to argue so he could start some kind of drama and he wasn’t going to give the infant the satisfaction. Papyrus knew about the sun lamps that hung from the mountain ceiling and if he wanted to pick a fight about something that stupid, he was going to have to try a little harder than that.

I wish he’d put his energy to good use…I know he’s just a baby, but he’s smart right? He could do some real good for the Underground if he’d just try. Why does he wanna act stupid and annoy people all the time?

“We should be good baes and get the twees some new hats before someone cut them down,” said Papyrus, pulling Sans out of his thoughts. “They moves real slow ya’ know? Like Charlie. I bet Dirt-Butt knows where the hat store be! Is probably in one of those tunnels…a kiosk if baby had to guess.”

Oh yeah, Flowey! I forgot about him, he hasn’t visited us in a while.

Maybe Papyrus ISN’T trying to start a fight after all…maybe he thinks since Flowey’s a monster, ALL plants are monsters…they just can’t talk like he can.

Still feels like he’s messing with me though, why call the leaves hats instead of hair? They grow on top of the trees like hair and hair falls out and I even heard it gets damaged…

An image of Undyne arguing with her mother flashed through his mind. She got in trouble often because she wouldn’t put her hair up before swimming and usually ended up with leaves and other grasses Sans wasn’t familiar with tangled in her bright red locks.

One day she might make a habit of putting it in a ponytail of some sort, but for now, her hair was too short for her to care too much. She was never one to care about her physical appearance; if it wasn’t slowing her down in the water or getting caught on stuff, Undyne simply didn’t and wouldn’t care no matter how much her mother screamed at her.

I’m glad I don’t have hair. As pretty as it is, it looks hard to take care of.

Where is Undyne anyway? She was supposed to meet us here…

“SNAS!”

“huh?” Sans stopped daydreaming and looked down to find a very annoyed baby bones glaring up at him. Apparently, he had missed a question…that, or an entire conversation.      

“uh, sorry. what’s a kiosk?”

“*Sigh* Is a tiny shop dat sells tiny things,” replied the baby holding his fingers close together. “I was talkin’ bout��� how there might be one that sells hats for da’ twees in one of those tunnels.”

“you mean the dog tunnels?”

“Yep! Is a good hiding pace cause’ lossa peoples think branches are the twee’s arms, but is really their roots. They use them to walk and grab stuffs from underground like Dirt-Butt, but you probly already knowed that. Hippie’s be one wit da’ nature! You’s keeping the twee store a secret right? Cause’ is illegal? You help the twees a widdle and they give you a munch on da’ side?”

“what the hell are you talking about papyrus?” asked Sans completely lost.

“You’s leading peoples astray wit yo’ cwazy talk about twees having solar powers so that no one will cut them down and in return, they let you eat their hats.”

Oh good, it’s another one of his conspiracy theories. Those don’t get old at all.

“the only one talkin’ crazy here is you baby bro. i don’t know how dad made you, but something went very wrong.”

“Nope, I’s right all right. You just gots da’ trust issues. You think I’s gonna tell erybody about the store, so you’s lying with the deceit!” exclaimed the baby pointing his finger at his brother accusingly. “Don’t know why you think baby would do dat, I’s always been nice to you and I’s ALWAYS honest, but-”

“bullcrap you’re honest! ain’t nothing ‘honest’ about you!”

“If daz what you think, then your memory be worse then the baby’s!”

“n-”

“You should go ask Daddy to fix yo’ memory brain big Buther.”

Okay he DOES want to start a fight.

“my memory’s fine and you know it. you lie about everything. you told me the mountain was made out of dinosaur poop!”

“It is!”

“it’s not.”

“Is too! Daz why all mountains are big and pointy and stuffs grow on them. Is cause’ doody be good fer-ti-lizer. Dis mountain don’t smell no more cause’ is been a gazillion years is all…”

“you’re so full of crap.”

“Nuh uh, ask the baby bear dat lives here, he know! He tell me humans climb doody mountains like dis allll the time looking for bears, so they can injects em’ with stuff dat turns them into candies.”

“i doubt he even knows you.”

“He do, he know me and he tell da’ baby dat the serum stuffs make all their fur fall out and turns their bodies into gummies. It shrink them too Snas! Like, reeeal small, till’ they can fits in yo’ hand. Humans call the candies Gummy Bears and they puts em’ on their nice cream.”

“gummy bears huh? shame. that’s not a very creative name pap, and you were telling such a great lie too.”

“I’s NOT lying! I gots poof, see?” Papyrus pulled a bag of…something, out of his jacket and held it up proudly. “It say ‘Gummy Bears’ and inside be widdle dead bears that got caught stealing pic-i-nic baskets. Dis what bears get for stealing big Buther…they doesn’t go to jail cause’ they strong enough to bend da’ bars.”

“eww! put that down papyrus, it’s dripping!”

“NO! These MY gummies! Go find yo’ own Snas!”

SCRUF SCRUF SCRUF SCRUF!

Papyrus ran through the snow as best a baby bones could in a vain attempt to protect his gummies from his hungry hippo brother, but the snow was FAR too deep for such a tiny thing like him he realized, as he noticed Sans walking beside him nonchalantly with his hands in his pockets.

Fine then, Plan B.

Rolling onto his back, he began kicking in the air, holding onto his bag of candy protectively. “If you think taking candies from dis baby gonna be easy, we’ll see what you think after yo’ teeths go missing, NYEH!”

“you’re gonna get sick bro.”

“I PUT YOU IN DA’ MEDICAL WING FIRST! You weave mah gummies alone stink buther, YOU GOTS YOUR HATS!”

Teleporting behind his sibling, Sans grabbed the bag with the shrieking baby bones still attached. He didn’t know HOW Papyrus had managed to eat so many things from the Dump without getting sick, but the comedian’s paranoia was starting to get to him. Monsters that couldn’t handle the poisonous fumes from the volcano in Hotland were dropping like flies and being sent to their Medical Ward in the lab, never to return; in fact, NO sick monsters were returning from the Medical Ward, despite some of their illnesses not being all that serious.

It’s because we’re so low on magic crystals.

The medicines we use are made from plants that need sun lamps like these to live, but without the crystals to provide the electricity...

“…i hope WE don’t get sick…”

Papyrus stopped screaming for a second. “Nyeh?”

Uh oh, what was Sans thinking about NOW? Obviously, his mind was no longer on the bag of Gummy Bears…or on how cruel he was being, taking candies away from cute little skelly babies such as himself.

He seemed to be fixated on the sun lamps above them, glowing dimly, definitely not as bright as last month. Papyrus didn’t really know how the lamps worked, or at least he didn’t remember anyway, but he knew why they were dim. They had to turn the power down to conserve what little energy they had left.    

“Why you worried bout’ the fake suns Snas? You still gots da’ fake sparklies in Waterfall…”

“*sigh* you…you don’t understand bro. the plants we use…they need these lights to live. if they go out, we won’t have any more medicine or even foo-”

Oh shit.

“GASP! NO FOOD?!”

“papyrus.”

Aw crap, I shouldn’t have said anything.

“BUT YOU NEEDS FOOD!” exclaimed Papyrus, dropping to the ground and putting his hands to his cheekbones. “WHAT YOU GONNA DO IF THERE NO PLANTS FOR YOU TO MUNCH HIPPIE WOAH-BOT BABY? YOU CAN’T WIVE OFF MILK LIKE I DOS!”

“you don’t live off milk, i’ve seen you eat other…you were just trying to eat this garbage!”

“Don’t worry Snas! We gonna go find Dirt-Butt and get him to tell the twees the sit-u-ation-”

“I DON’T EAT TREES!”

“We gonna get him to tell the twees in their language that times have changed. Like an old diaper, IS TIME TO DO AWAY WITH PAST TRADITIONS AND WELCOME DA’ NEW!”

“what the hell are you talking about?”

“NO LONGER SHALL THEY LIVE THEIR WIVES AS NUDISTS!” cried Papyrus, pumping his fist into the air.

“the hell do you know what a nudist is? we don’t watch videos like that!”

“NO LONGER SHALL THEY ACCEPT BEING TREATED LIKE SECOND CLASS PEOPLES AND DEPEND ON OUR FAKE SUNS FOR WARMTH!”

“iii don’t think you understand how trees OR sun lamps work baby bro…”

“THEY SHALL FIGHT FOR THEIR INNAPENDENCE! Tell em’ Dirt-Butt.”

“WE SHALL FIGHT FOR OUR INDEPENDENCE!”

“NO, no one’s fighting ANYONE, and get outta here flowey! where’d you even come from?!”

Poking his head out from behind a tree, Flowey leapt up onto a nearby stump and began his trademark wiggling dance, equipped with a smile. “I heard the brat say my name a couple minutes ago. Usually, that means something terrible is about to befall me in the near future, so I thought I’d stick around and learn what that something was beforehand, so as to avoid any trauma…wasn’t aware this was a pep rally though.”

“it’s not. like i said, no one’s fighting anybody, pap’s just being dumb.”

“YOU DUMB! They are gonna fight Snas! monsters be cutting power from the high lamps so big peoples can have their coffee, and they cuts twees down for firewood if their hats not pretty enough! DIRT-BUTT’S PEOPLE BE OPPRESSED!”

“YEAH SMILEY, MY PEOPLE ARE OPPRESSED!”

“THEY WANTS EQUAL RIGHTS!”

“WE WANT VENGENCE!”

“THEY WANTS RESPECT!”

“WE WANT BLOOD!”

“THEY WANTS A BRIGHTER FOOTURE FOR THEIR BABIES!”

“WE WANT A NEW WORLD ORDER!”

“you two are NOT on the same page.”

“DOWN WIT DA’ RACIST MONSTERS AND THEIR RACIST WAYS! VIVA REVOLUTION!”

“viva-what…?”

“GENOCIDE GENOCIDE!!”

RUSTLE!

RUSTLE!

“Hm?” Flowey turned his head towards a tree that had yet to lose most of its leaves upon hearing something rustling within. Squinting his eyes didn’t do him a bit of good in finding out just who the shadowy figure lurking amongst the branches was, but the text that appeared when they spoke…and the voice that accompanied it, were all the hints he needed to get him rolling them in IMMEDIATE annoyance.

“GET THE HELL OFF ME PEDO-TREE! LET GO OF MY HAIR!”

Oh good, it’s Fish Breath. I was waiting for someone to ruin my day…

“Nyeh? Where you going Dirt-Butt?”

“GODDAMNIT!”

“Yeaah, I forgot, the trees and I juust passed this new law that says no hanging out with dorks…sucks huh?”

“…”

“…”

“Oh don’t you two look at me like that! You know I voted against it, but we plants run a democracy sooo…duces dorks! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

And with that, Flowey vanished into the ground just as Undyne came tumbling down the tree.

“OOF!”

“undyne!” Sans dropped the bag of gummies and ran over to help her up. “don’t touch that bag bro! undyne, are you alright?”

“Ow…STUPID TREE! YOU’RE LUCKY ALL THESE HATS BROKE MY FALL OR I’D KICK YOUR ASS!”

Sans stopped.

“Um, hello? Aren’t you gonna help me up? I’M A LADY DAMNIT!”

“*Mamph* I’ll helps you *gulp* Fish Lady!”

“I’m just kidding Papyrus, I’m okay, I’m fi-no…no Papyrus, don’t-don’t touch me, go. Go. Over. There. Go to your brother.”

“You wants some of these candies? They’re good…”

“No, they smell gross and they’re dripping with gay water,” said Undyne, pushing Papyrus towards Sans.

“Is okay! I heard-ed somewhere that the rainbow water only affects froggets…”

“pappy-”

“Why? Because they’re water monsters? Well so am I, so I can’t eat stuff from the Dump.” She looked around the wooded area. “Where’s that one guy that was shouting about homicide? I know there was someone else here!”

Did he climb up a tree like I did?

“genocide, not homicide. Flowey left awhile ago. As soon as you fell out of that tree as a matter of fact…why WHERE you up there anyway?”

“I was on a stakeout, looking for that one kid that likes to get mad at people when they don’t find him funny. Snowdrake or whatever his name is.” She scanned the area again with her one good eye; there was DEFINITELY someone else here before. She wouldn’t mistake an annoying high-pitched voice like that for Sans or even Papyrus.

Where could they have gone so quickly?

“what, snowdrake? why?! snowdrake isn’t a criminal! he gets mad when people don’t like his puns, but he doesn’t ATTACK people!”

Often…

Undyne glared at him, but Sans refused to back down. Snowdrake was one of the few people he HOPED he could become friends with in time. He didn’t seem to care about how dangerous his little brother was, only that Sans enjoyed his jokes. Apparently, his father was a comedian and had been for several years, but the two didn’t get along because of one singular problem Snowdrake had. He didn’t understand comedy. He enjoyed puns like Sans, but he couldn’t seem to grasp the concept of what they were for and he often got angry whenever people didn’t find him funny.

To be honest, his temper tantrums were an embarrassment to Sans, but he hoped in time he’d grow out of it, and he damn sure wasn’t going to ruin everything by ratting him out to Undyne so she could play hero…  

“HE’S DISTURBING THE PEACE SANS! HE’S DISTURBING THE PEACE OF OUR PEACEFUL COMMUNITY AND MUST BE BROUGHT TO JUSTICE! Though it sounds like I found an even BIGGER problem in our community…”

“a bigger problem?”

“A poacher of endangered monsters! Where did this genie-killer go Sans? YOU HAVE TO TELL ME OR YOU’RE AN ACCOMPLICE!”

The Font stared at her for a moment, torn between being relieved that her attention had been drawn elsewhere and being annoyed with having to once again deal with another big plate of stupid so early in the morning. “what genie-killer? genies don’t even exist. i said GENO-cide, not genie-cide. you heard wrong.”

“I don’t think so. Another name for genies is ‘djinn’ and it’s pronounced the same way. I’m not stupid Sans! I don’t read nerd books, but I study the law and stuff! GEN-ocide or DJINN-ocide, however you want to spell it, is the murder of GENIES-”

“no.”

��And genies are a rare breed of ghost monster that possess an object and come out only to grant wishes-”

“no.”

This is a VERY big plate of stupid.

“THAT’S why poachers are after them. If bad people make bad wishes, it could destroy the world, so they hunt them down. Your friend might THINK he’s doing everyone a favor, but he’s still a murderer if he kills one-”

“genies do not exist.”

“*Nom* Nowheres but the Middle East anyways.”

“…”

“…”

“…what?”

Papyrus reached into his bag. “The word ‘djinn’ is Arabic. That mean genies come from da’ Middle East…dat’s where Egypt be big Buther. Is in da’ middle of the earth…but also a widdle east,” he popped a gummy into his mouth. “I doesn’t know if they come from Saudi Arabia or Iraq, but they definitely not live here. They be used to desert environments ya’ know? It be too cold in da’ Massachusetts.”

“How did you spell that…?”

“the only word i recognize there is ‘egypt.’ that…place you keep talking about.”

“Well maybe if you read-ed books about our panet instead of about sparklies all the time, you’d know somethin’.”

“we don’t HAVE books like that.”

Not even in the library. Everyone left for Mt. Ebott at such short notice, they just brought what they had on them. Most of the books come from what the kids had in their backpacks when they…

Wait a minute…

“Daddy do. He gots allll da’ info on stuffs. He taked all the important books out the library for himself and the baby! He say the bigger I gets, the more memories I lose, so I gots to read lots! He say I can’t let YOU read them though, cause’ you might leave and travel da’ world without me, but I know you not do that. You can read mah books whenever you wants ALL you wants…”

“wait hold on, you have a memory problem?”

This was news to Sans.

Assuming it wasn’t a lie of course.

It was true he hadn’t been paying much attention to Papyrus much to his shame, what with worrying about their future and all, but when he did, he noticed there WERE, in fact, instances where he would question his baby brother’s intellect, or at the very least, his mind.

There was once a time when Sans and paranoia were inseparable. He would question everything his brother said and did, knowing he was the Lying Font, and always assuming Papyrus was messing with him, he would prepare for the worst or simply flat out ignore the baby bones; but things had long since changed. Nowadays, it was difficult to tell whether or not the infant believed his own lies and that made weeding them out in general that much more difficult. His father warned him:

“Papyrus is the king of deceit. As he grows older his lies will become more intricate and deadly."

An intimidating message that seemed less laughable as the months flew by.

He thought it’d be easy…for HIM at least, to tell when his brother was lying, because he spent the most time with him, but the reality was, his sibling was changing right before his eyes and Sans couldn’t decide if he was getting dumber or cleverer. According to his father, the Papyrus fonts were the world’s greatest actors because they were METHOD actors; walking, talking, even thinking like the characters they tried to portray. They were the only people on earth who could pretend to be somebody else for years if not forever without going completely insane, because they had no set personality and weren’t aware that they’re lying not only to everyone around them, but to themselves included…but SANS’ brother had Wingdings, meaning there was enough there…enough personality to have a second font anyway, and that drove the comedian insane.

I know my bro’s a genius; he knows about trees.

DOES he have a memory problem?

Did he forget what leaves are? Or how sun lamps work?

…

Or is he just pretending to be an ordinary baby who doesn’t understand how the WORLD works yet?

He’s lying. He has to be lying. He’s lying right? He’s just pretending to have memory problems so his future lies will seem more innocent. “Oh, I didn’t MEAN to lie when I said the wind on the surface sometimes picked up houses and threw them at people big Brother! I just forgot how wind works cause’ I have memory issues!”

Lying little shit.

…

…

He’s lying right?

“…for real pap, do you really have memory problems?”            

“Yep. I used to know erything a baby needed to know to be big, but now there be things I gots to understand all over again. It suck monkey big Buther…” Papyrus looked sad, but Sans couldn’t tell if it was because he was telling the truth, or because he had run out of those disgusting gummies of his. The infant tilted the bag upside down, spilling the garbage juice within onto the snowy ground near his boots. “All gone…nyeh…”

“ugh…bro…”

Seriously, what’s in that baby formula of his?!

“EWW! WHY’D YOU DO THAT? SANS GET YOUR BROTHER!”

Sighing, he did as he was told. “c’mere pap, let’s go get some real food at grillby’s,” he said, tucking the infant under one arm.

“Gillby’s? Dat stink pace wit da’ frog food? How bout’ no? Put baby down, I eats things at the Dump, not things that BELONG at the Dump.”

“wh-you love hamburgers!”

“Yeah! Hamburgers are GREAT! If you don’t like Grillby’s food, YOU DON’T BELONG IN THIS COUNTRY! Right Sans?”

“I loved em’ good before I knowed they be made of frog…and you doesn’t even know what country we in, so shut it up clown fish with the racism, or Imma tell mah Daddy!”

“YOU’RE A CLOWN FISH, AND I’M NOT SCARED OF YOUR DAD! I’M NOT SCARED OF ANYTHING!!”

“hamburgers aren’t made of frogs bro-”

“What-”

“OR froggets.”

“…They slimy dough…you shouldn’t give slimy stuffs to widdle babies Snas, we gets it in our hairs…”

“it’s not slime-”

“Don’t you care about my hairs…?”

“OH MY GOD! IT’S GREASE, NOT SLIME AND IT’S DELICIOUS!” yelled Undyne hurling a large rock across the woods.

“hey, watch it! you’re gonna hurt somebody!”

“Grease be a movie Fish Lady. I don’t wish to nibble on greased lightning, I’ll gets elly-cuted…electra-cuted. Then Gillby will serve me as da’ baby back ribs and peoples will love it…cept’ they won’t love it cause’ there only be one serving cause’ there only be one me. The customers probly think, ‘why dis one guy get the baby ribs and we don’t? why we not special like him? I not eat here no mores!’ Then Gillby get no more customers and he go out of business…and that will make big Buther sad.”

“…”

“He like the frog food even dough is not healthy for a hippie woah-bot…unless you’s just eating da’ lettuce. You no eat the frog patty Snas? What you do wit dat frog patty?”

“It’s not frog, it’s cow…or magic. Magic cow…? Hey Sans, what are hamburgers made of?”

“it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t care. he just wants your attention-”

“IS MOO-COW? LIKE AZZY’S MOM?”

“Uhh…yeah…?”

Who’s Azzy? He doesn’t go to my daycare…

“Ooooh…still, I doesn’t wish to eat at Gillby’s. I thanks you for the invitation Snas, but I’s trying to get big as in tall, not big as in you.”

“go die in a fire papyrus.”

“Daz rude.”

Deciding on silence, Sans teleported to Grillby’s. Perhaps a burger would keep his baby brother quiet for a while…

…

…

…

“HEY SANS YOU JERK! YOU LEFT ME BEHIND!”

SCRUF SCRUF SCRUF SCRUF SCRUF!

“YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO INVITE ME AND PAY FOR MY MEAL, MAMA SAID!!”

Or maybe it wouldn’t be so quiet after all.  

[worldsandcenturiesfunposting]

Trump’s Bad Day 3: The Kids Are All Wrong. Sad!

Within the deepest reaches of the White House in a room designated by a hastily scribbled sticky note as “The War Room”, the President himself sat alone. His face was illuminated only by the flickering of a desk television tuned into Fox News and his hands constantly fidgeting while he desperately tried to think of a way out of his latest predicament. 

It had not been a good couple of days for President 45. First, a group of liberals attacked his most loyal fanbase and while they got what was coming to them when one of his brave soldiers ran some of them over with a car, a bunch of cucks have shown themselves furious over the matter and started to attack his fans!

Following that, the fake news media actually wanted him to condemn the protesters as if they had done anything even in the slightest wrong. Wasn’t the left supposed to be the ones championing themselves as the advocates for tolerance and yet, here they were acting as if those tiki totting protesters are bad people for just disagreeing with them. Sad! 

For the last several days he had been pestered non stop by the media and peasants who demanded he respond to the event as if that were a job of the Presidency. Obama would have issued a statement condemning the attacks minutes after it happened and what these people don’t understand is that he isn’t Obama! He wants to undo everything Obama has done and if that means not responding to one rinky dink death, so be it!

Alas the brave warrior couldn’t keep up his defense for long. In a matter of days of being strongarmed by the media and people, he finally made his first press statement in months. He insists he was the most clever orator, if he knew what that word was, that the world has ever seen for his unparalleled wielding of words to turn the argument away from his supporters and to the counter protesters.  By using the most dishonest use of the “But both sides” argument since the pathetic attempts at shielding Islam whenever a cartoonist or apostate is killed, Trump managed shed some humanity onto the card carrying neo-nazis who proudly saluted him and have shown the world what real Trump supporters look like and the might they carry. 

The absolute rush he felt during that speech must have been what Hitler himself felt when dictating his own rise to power. Granted, even people who absolutely hate Hitler would concede that the man was indeed a skilled orator, the subject of his speeches aside, while Trump is a bumbling idiot who can’t string together a coherent sentence to save his life...but what do they know? They’re a bunch of libcucks! 

Unfortunately, it didn’t work out as planned. Even though he made a speech just like they were all bitching about for days, they were still mad. It just goes to show you should never try to do what’s good for the country because they’re never be satisfied. Lobbyists on the other hand always praise him when he does things for their benefit. 

But even then he felt a shiver when thinking of those wonderful groups who only want even more money. The plans of repealing Obamacare have failed time and time again and now he has to sabotage it from the inside. That’s more work for him when he should be golfing and sniffing Ivanka’s underwear! Why won’t the poor just kill themselves so he doesn’t have to spend so much time trying to pass legislation that will do it slowly? 

At least Fox News was there to set the record straight. He enjoyed watching the bumbling automaton on the screen recite conservative talking points to defend him. Sometimes he saw a hint of humanity in their eyes where it seemed that the host was having trouble believing their own lies, but no, that was just the screen. 

Of course he couldn’t just sit down and watch Fox News all day like he could before. That fucker Robert Mueller’s investigation was closing in on his family now and he still wasn’t allowed to fire him. He promised Jeff Sessions that he’ll kill all the jews if he gets to fire Mueller but he only got some crap about “Having to follow the law on this one” as if Republicans or the rich ever cared about the rule of law. That’s for the poor people! 

In order to save his family, he’d need his family’s help. It’s not relying on others because they’re still Trumps and thus have his genes in them. Unfortunately, he isn’t shoving more of his genes into Ivanka at the moment but that will have to come later. 

Mere minutes after texting, Donald Trump Jr, Eric Trump, and Jared Kushner were in the room and waiting to receive orders. People say slapping around your kids doesn’t work, but it’s clear that these subordinates aren’t going to turn against him any time soon. 

“Alright boys, we need to find a way to get that fuck off our case. We have the best cases, believe me. When Putin looked at my case, who I didn’t visit or talk to, but when I went to him and told him to look at my case which was my hotels, he said it was the best and I believe everything he said because he can’t do no wrong, but I’m not friends him with, understand?” He pointed at Eric, “Jr, fucking fix this!”

“Daddy, I’m Eric!”

“I don’t fucking care, Kushner.”

“Uh, Father, I’m Kushner.” The farthest to the right pipped up. 

“I don’t give a shit, Billy, just figure out how to get Comey off my back.”

“Comey isn’t in the picture anymore, dad” Jr mentioned. “You fired him months ago. That’s why Mueller’s even here to begin with.”

“Do I look like I give a shit, Eric? Fucking fire Obama already!”

“Daddy, I’m Eric!”

“Did I ask you who you were, Barron?”

“I’m not Barron, daddy, I’m Eric!”

“Then where the fuck’s Barron?”

“He’s outside playing with his fidget spinner, father.” Kushner was getting tired of this. 

“Why the fuck is a ten year old playing with his penis?”

“Father, a fidget spinner isn’t-”

“THAT WAS MY FIDGET SPINNER! TELL HIM TO GIVE IT BACK, DADDY!” Eric was on the verge of tears. He hated his younger brother because the kid was always bullying him. 

“I don’t care who’s penis it was, damnit! If anyone’s penis should be played with, it’s mine anyways!” He slammed his tiny fists on the desk and immediately pointed to Kushner. “How the fuck do we get Mueller out of here! We’re going to end up in jail because of this and by we, I mean you because I’m not going to jail. I never get in trouble! I’m not in trouble but you are and I’m not because I don’t get in trouble!” 

“Have you been able to make any deals with anyone in the FBI? Someone could tamper with the evidence so it can’t be used against you, take the fall for it, and then you pardon him. Easy as that.” 

“Kushner, I make the best deals. Believe me. The best. Why when I made a deal to win the election and remove sanctions from Russia with Putin, he agreed it was the best. I never talked to him, but he knew it was the best deals. Not like Obama’s deals. His deals were bad. Bad deals. Sad! He didn’t make the best like I can. When I made a deal, it was-”

“Did you contact anyone in the FBI or not?”

“No. Why would I?”

“Oh my fucking God!” Kushner was ready to leave the room and see if he can’t fly down to Russia himself for help at this point. “Alright, father, what about the media. Can’t you get Bannon to get Brietbart to shame Mueller into submission?”

“Oh Bannon? I fired him earlier.”

“YOU WHAT?”

“Everyone was saying he was the president, Jr, but I’m the president. Me. Donald Trump, who I am and not Bannon, is the president which he isn’t. If he’s the president, why did he get fired? Only I can fire him because I’m the president so all of those cucks will have to admit that I’m the president.” Leaving over and tapping his forehead, he gave his son in law a creepy wink. “See, smart.”

“Wouldn’t Bannon be upset, dad?” Jr was now getting worried. Bannon had a lot of dirt on him and didn’t want it to get out.

“Well he did mention something about stringing us up like a bunch of niggers when he left but he was probably just playin, y’know? I have the loyal-ey-ist people out there. Everyone I hire, they know who’s the boss. They listen, believe me, they know I’m in charge.”

“So we don’t have anyone in the FBI and we don’t have a direct link to the media....”

“Sure we do, Eric! The Enquirer!”

“Daddy, I’m Eric!”

“Shut the fuck up, Tiffany. Anyways, I can get them to write articles about Mueller easy! Believe me, they write the best articles. That’s REAL NEWS! The real stuff. The best stuff. Why, when I tell them to write something, they know I’m right so they do it. Just like when Putin tells me to do something, but I don’t know him, but I do it anyways. The SAD! liberal media, they don’t have good journalists like the Enquirer. I’ll get them to write about how awful Mueller is and it’ll be done by tomorrow, believe me.”

Kushner was ready to faint. There’s a level of irony about the man complaining about fake news having ties to a publication that routinely publishes such tripe that only the non-Trump understood. Meanwhile Jr was deep in thought. 

“What if we release literally everything before the fake news can? That’s what I did with my meeting with the Russians and the New York Times were totally embarrassed because they couldn’t talk about it anymore!” 

“Jr, they ran the story anyways. It even meant that you couldn’t say it was fake news because you released it!”

“Sure I could, Kushner.” He tapped his forehead. “I’m smart, remember?”

Trump was pleased for the first time that night. “You see, Kushner, this is the kind of smarts the Trump family has to offer. Jr here, he has good genes. The best! Not like those blacks and jews.”

“Father, I’m Jewish. Remember?” Kushner stressed.

“AND I’M ERIC!”

“What the fuck do you think we should do?”

Eric reached to the floor and picked up a large crayon composed drawing. Various stick figures were situated in odd places among two vague masses of land. One was labeled “The Untied States” and the other “North Corea” which was succumbing to massive squiggly explosions. 

“What if we nuke North Korea to get them to stop bullying us? See, that one’s you.” He pointed to an orange stick figure called ‘Daddy’ on the page, “And there’s me. I’m Eric!” 

“Where am I, Eric?” Jr was looking around but couldn’t find himself. 

“I ran out of room on the America side so I put you on the North Korea side. See, there’s you there!” 

“Well fuck you too, bro.”

“I’m not bro, I’m Eric!”

“That idea sucks, Eric. I’m done with all of you losers. You kids couldn’t come up with a decent plan to save you lives. Sad! I’ve got to do it myself so I will. My plan, it’s the best. I already had it before you came it. I was testing you and you failed. Loser kids can’t make a good plan. Sad! So here’s what I’m going to do, because I’m smart, you see, the smartest ever like Putin said, he knew a smart man when he sees one. I’m first going to call someone in the FBI and tell them to destroy talks between me and Putin, then I’m going to call Bannon and tell him to report on how Mueller likes to watch underaged hookers pee on his bed, and then I’m gonna release literally everything between Putin and I but I don’t because as you can see, it was already destroyed. Finally, I’ll nuke North Korea and then people still stop talking about the fake news and start talking about how presidential I am. I’m the most presidential person ever. Well, after Lincoln, but he helped black people so he doesn’t count. Me, I’m the best as presidenting. The best. Believe me, when I’m president, things work. My team is the best because I only hire the best people. When they see me, they know I’m the best and if they get hired, it’s only because I hire the best but they’re not the best because I’m the best, believe me.”

“That’s a....good plan, father.” Now Kushner really wanted to know flight times to Russia. 

Jr was sad that his father was going to steal his idea again but didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to get slapped anymore. Meanwhile Eric was digging around his pockets trying to find his fidget spinner. 

“Now get the fuck out of here. I need to watch clips of Ivanka I got using a secret camera in her room!”

“Wait, what!?”

“Get the fuck out of here, Kushner!” 

“Can I stay daddy?”

“I said get the fuck out, Kushner.”

“I’m Eric!”