#i want to go on a ride with you but only literally

[always-just-red]

A/N: So I threatened a while back to write MC arresting Sylus since he literally won’t shut up about it. Thought this would be a silly fic but it ended up an angst-driven exploration of how his time with MC is probably finite and ill-fated?? Anyway Sylus is too soft for this, I’m sorryyyy (Sy I love you! I would never do this to you! ‘Didn’t it come from your imagination, though?’ Ssshhhh you don’t know what you’re saying!! 🥰)

To Remain Silent

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus has told you to arrest him one too many times...

Genre: Emotional rollercoaster honestly? Some angst, some comfort (and a lil spice for flavour)

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, vaguely established relationship, gets a little steamy at the end (mostly kissing tbh), artistic licence applied liberally since this would be WAY too risky for MC to actually attempt 😭😭

| Word count: 2.7k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Sylus knows this isn’t real.

You watch him through the glass of his cell, and the subtle tint to it lets you know that he can’t watch you back. He’s sat on the single bench inside, leaning against the far wall, his long legs stretched out before him. His hands are cuffed— tucked away behind his back— but he still looks comfortable. More than comfortable: at ease. At home. Bored.

“You think I can’t feel those pretty little eyes of yours on me?” he mutters, head back, eyes closed. “I’m at your mercy, kitten. Are you really only going to look?”

You tap a button on the glass. “You should start taking this seriously.”

He smiles at the sound of your voice, but his eyes don’t open; there’s still nothing to see. “I’m taking it very seriously, sweetie.”

“I don’t think you are.”

The smile turns even more smug: a confession, all by itself. He sits up and leans forward, like someone who’s found a change of conversation to be interesting. His eyes open— managing to find you, somehow, and— can he see you? No. It’s an educated guess, he’s just selling it with confidence.

Leisurely, he rises from his seat and saunters over to the glass. “Let me see you,” he orders, then bargains: “Please? This is so very—” he toes the division— “one-sided.”

You can’t look him in the eyes, can you? This is hard enough without the windows to your soul baring your heart and your mind to him, like they always do. You should have worn those sunglasses he bought you for that undercover assignment. This is what they’re for, right? Hiding.

With a circular swipe of your finger, the glass before you clears and Sylus meets your gaze.

“Hi,” he teases.

You fold your arms across your chest. “Hey.”

“This is quite some effort you’ve gone to, kitten. And all for me, no less.”

“What effort?” you dismiss plainly. “You practically slapped those handcuffs on yourself.”

It’s not an exaggeration: from the cuffs to the ride here, not a single stage of his arrest has been resisted. The closest he’s gotten to a lack of cooperation was when you’d first restrained and dragged him from his study, where he’d been inclined to point out that the bedroom was the other way.

“Well, I didn’t want to cause a fuss,” he smirks. One of his hands is brought forward, and his handcuffs now hang uselessly from a finger. “Tell me,” he says, letting them swing as he holds your gaze, “what am I to expect now I’ve been so masterfully captured?”

You glance at the restraints, unmoved. “That isn’t for me to decide.”

A door behind you slides open, and— right on time— an altogether more impressive presence joins you before the cell. Sylus glances her up and down as the click of her heeled boots come to a stop; he has never met your captain, but he knows her face.

“You really cashed in all your favours, didn’t you, sweetie?” he observes. He turns to address the woman beside you: “We haven’t been introduced. I’m—”

“I know who you are,” Jenna interrupts, her tone as incorruptible as yours.

Sylus’s arm lifts, resting on the glass above you so he can tower over you, despite the partition. “Is that right?” he purrs absent-mindedly, dropping his head so he can speak into your ear. “Sweetie… I thought you could keep a secret.”

He’s goading you into your usual game, but the stakes don’t interest you. “You were wrong.”

You’re at your own table, dealing your own cards. Does he want to play? You think he might. His lips are curving at the delicious prospect of a challenge. You’ve given him a taste of it. He wants more.

Jenna is studying her clipboard, acting oblivious. She senses the impasse. Asks Sylus: “Do you know why you’re here?”

He huffs impatiently. “Enlighten me.”

“Sylus,” you scold.

Red eyes widen a fraction.

You see it.

Good.

…

Sylus thinks this might be real.

You said his name. His real name: the one with sharp, bloody strings attached. The one on all the posters. The one in your precious Association’s archives, linked to stacks of files and crime scene photos, most of which he isn’t even responsible for.

Sylus. You said: Sylus. 

It was worthy of a grand reveal— the sort of plot twist that delivered the suspense of so many thrillers— but here you are, speaking it like it’s nothing. Not a slip of the tongue; not a mistake. And it’s different here. He’s not your Sylus. He’s theirs.

Their murderer. Their monster. Their convenient little scapegoat for everything dark and unholy.

The captain is reading him a list, reeling off every crime— each alleged sin. As if he needs a reminder. As if all the time in the world could ever let him forget. “Needless to say, Mr Sylus,” she summarises, “due to the nature of these crimes, you may prove exempt from our standard procedures. A case like this is… unprecedented. Onychinus has much to answer for. You have much to answer for.”

Sylus hasn’t really been listening; it’s all senseless bureaucracy. “You have the wrong man,” he says, because whatever you’re doing— whatever stunt this is— a confession is sure to derail it. You know that, don’t you? You must be counting on it: holding that guilty breath of yours and hoping he’s smart enough to not be Sylus.

You don’t look worried in the slightest. You must have an awful lot of faith in him.

He studies you, waiting for a small, deliberate smile or a moment of weakness. Give him a sign, don’t give him a sign— it doesn’t matter; he’ll find one. His intentions must be clearer than yours, because you step up to the glass to face him.

Do it, your silence says, even though the rest of you is illegible. You want to look? Look.

His eye could light like a crimson fire— could burn the truth out of you— but it won’t. It’s a promise he made what feels like a lifetime ago, not long after you’d met: Your thoughts and desires are yours to give, not his to take.

Even here. Even now. He’s a man of his word, after all.

Impressed? You smile faintly, but there’s no warmth to it. “Captain,” you speak, your eyes not leaving his, “can you give us a minute? Please?”

“Of course,” the woman answers with a nod.

Sylus does not see her go. He hears it: the retreating rhythm of her shoes. He feels it: it’s just the two of you, alone again. Well, the two of you and that ‘hidden’ camera in the far corner of the room. “Whatever game this is,” he grins good-naturedly, his teeth gritted, “it stops. Now.”

“It’s not a game, Sylus. I told you to take this seriously.”

“What are you doing?” he snaps, and that good-natured grin didn’t last very long. 

Your hands land on your hips. “My job.” When he scoffs, you continue: “Did you really think this would end any other way? After everything you’ve done?”

He laughs and it’s deeply sardonic. He’s no saint— to try to convince you he was would be a crime worthy of punishments far worse than this. But you know him. You know the line and what stands on each side of it: everything he’s done, yes, and everything he’s been made to take the fall for.

You wouldn’t do this to him. Would you? “You want to play pretend? Fine,” he hisses. He wants to wrap his Evol around that godforsaken camera and annihilate it. “You caught the big, bad boss of Onychinus— congratulations, sweetie. Sure. Let’s say that’s who I am. A man like that has power, right? So what’s to keep him— me— from escaping? Right now?”

“You’re not going to leave, Sylus. Wanna know why?”

He’s sure you’re going to tell him, and you do:

“Because you’re all talk. All smoke and mirrors. You want to go? Go. But there’s not a single person in this building who wouldn’t give their life to bring you back. Someone will catch up to you eventually, and what then?”

“I’ll have a lot of fun, I imagine.”

“You’ll do nothing,” you correct. “Because those people out there? They’re my friends. My family. You hurt them? You hurt me. Make all the threats you want, Sylus— we both know the truth.”

He towers over you, still, but it’s hard not to shrink at your next words:

“You don’t have it in you.”

Your eyes are sharp: whetted with resentment. Sylus is your reflection— your worthy opponent, always— but he just can’t look at you like that.

There’s a quiet hiss as you slide a finger over the cell’s control panel. White, neon light carves through the glass partition: two vertical lines that bleed upwards, either side of him, before bending to meet each-other. The glass between them shimmers, then fades.

Sylus stands on the precipice of the doorway, cool air crawling past him. He stares up at the camera, then down at you. Your arms have folded again as you watch him— a narrative of apathy.

“How about it, Sylus?” you ask bitterly. “Still think you can outrun fate?”

“No.” Not since it started wearing your face. Fate is you, putting a bullet in his heart, and him, waking up so you can do it over and over again. Maybe this is real. Maybe it isn’t. “What do you want from me?” he entreats softly, because you’ll get it— either way.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you sneer, and your hand shoots out, grasping a fistful of his shirt. You use it to drag him out of the cell, closer, lower, so that his face is mere inches from yours.

“No,” he repeats. “Say it.”

Your eyes burn like pyres: so dangerous, so beautiful, so suited to being the death of him. “I want you—” you begin, as they flit briefly to his lips— “to tell me…”

“What?”

“How you cheat at kitty cards.”

Oh. Oh.

You’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?

Sure enough, you drop his shirt and burst into laughter— irrepressibly you again. The fire in your eyes has simmered down into something warm, safe, and comfortable, and— gods— you’re even crying. You’re doubled over, holding your stomach as though it hurts. You lift a hand to wipe your wet cheek. “Your face,” you get out between gasps, “oh, your face!”

Yours is not the only laughter, but it’s the only laughter Sylus hears.

“We so got you, Skye!” Tara’s vaguely familiar voice resounds from an intercom.

There’s some confusing static with it— more tittering voices— and Sylus suspects he’s found himself the star of your colleagues’ after-work entertainment. He puts his hands on his hips as he looks up at the camera. “Is the whole office—”

“Yeah,” you manage, wiping away another tear. “Figured it would be good for morale. Good practice, too.”

“Practice?”

“Mmhmm,” you confirm with a hum. You’ve apparently gotten a handle on the hilarity of the situation, because you approach him with something close to composure. Meditatively, you smooth down the fabric of his shirt. Straighten his collar. “For when we catch the real Sylus one day.”

He captures your wrists; that’s a lot of tenderness for someone who just tried to give him a heart attack. Maybe he’s a little too rough, because you pout at him in a way that makes him instantly soften his grip.

“You ok, Skye?” you enquire with an ironic smile and an adorable tilt of your head.

His thumbs are feathering over your pulse points, and slowly, he leans in to deliver a message, just for you: “If I say no, will you make it up to me?”

…

Sylus knows this is real.

His mouth is on yours and it’s relentless, desperate; you made him wait for it. How long has he been wanting to trap you against the nearest wall, just like this, so he can kiss you until he forgets just how cold you can be? 

He’s been very patient. He didn’t roll his eyes or utter a word of complaint when you’d dragged him to join your colleagues for dinner. It was your victory party, your ‘I made you look like an idiot’ party, but he was his usual, charming self, and your friends all adored him for it. They’d spun him the tale of his ‘arrest’— the planning, the preparation, and your lightbulb moment: 

“Hey, guys, have you ever thought about how Skye kinda looks like Sylus?”

Only he could understand how wickedly clever it was. His eyes had sought yours as he listened, lazy, content, and so obviously biding his time. You’d smiled at him. He’d smiled back. 

And he’d stayed smiling, even after the party was over and you’d had to walk a slightly-tipsy Tara home. She’d refused a taxi, insisted Sylus escort her— oh, and you could come, too! He’d lent her his arm: humoured every squeeze and chuckled at each remark about the size of it. You’d had to swat her away, in the end.

“I’m just teasing, y’know?” she’d giggled as the three of you arrived at her front door. “Skye knows I’m just teasing. You’re such a sweetheart, Skye. Imagine! You— the leader of Onychinus!”

She’d laughed, much too loud for such a quiet street, and with a less-than-subtle wink, left the two of you alone. Which is how you’d ended up here, in an alley around the back of her building, because it was Sylus’s turn to drag you somewhere. 

His attentions have moved lower; there’s a subtle clink as his fingers find the clasp of your shirt collar and he peels it back, exposing your neck. His lips leave yours, trailing down, down— past the line of your jaw and over the soft, vulnerable column of your throat. You gasp as he brushes over a sensitive spot, and you could swear you feel him smile.

He’s always been passionate, but this is a different fire, fuelled by something you can’t ignore, no matter how much you want to:

Relief. 

“Sy,” you murmur breathlessly, your hand in his hair, tugging gently. “Sy, stop.” 

“Mmm?” he acquiesces, voice sinfully low as the cold evening air takes his place kissing your neck. His eyes shine like blood spilt in the dead of night— lingering on you. He looks drunk.

You lift a hand to cup his face and run your thumb over his cheek. “I’ll never let anything happen to you, Sylus. You know that, right?”

Those dark eyes find clarity with your words, full of apprehension for just how naive you can be. The future will turn on you just as quickly as a wild animal someone boasts about having tamed, and aren’t you foolish, thinking you can control something like that? 

Besides, that’s his job.

“I know,” he says like he’s supposed to— ever the martyr, following the script. He goes to nuzzle into you again, but your hand is still tight in his hair and he groans as you use it to pull him back. 

“I mean it,” you reassert, forcing him to look at you. You don’t care that it’s ridiculous. You don’t care that fate is so hot on your heels that you have to keep running. You’re tired. He’s even more tired.

Isn’t it nice to stop and catch your breath?

Pretend you have time: His gaze is full of faith and oh, the world is going to enjoy punishing the two of you. “I know,” he insists, because this is the second time you’ve fooled him tonight. You feel his hand on your face and you let him kiss you— again, then again— so achingly slow, so arrogant. 

The world can wait; he wants to punish you first. 

“Do you really want to know—” he distracts as he finds that sensitive spot on your neck again— “how I cheat at kitty cards?”

The pad of his finger is chasing the path of his mouth; it tickles. You whine: “Tell me later, Sy.”

“Ok,” he breathes against you.

Later. There’ll be a later.

Won’t there?

[oimitocat]

FLUSH MY HEART | HC

༘۠ chan , felix & jisung (seperate) x m!reader

༘۠ omegaverse! au + idol! au + nsfw + fluff, fluff, fluff! + slight crying + alpha!reader + mating cycle! + cock warming

༘۠ a/n; this was such a cute request!

chan’s a delicate one during heat.

from how often he’s been on suppressants, his body is overreactive during heat

yet he knows you’re the sweetest most caring alpha during his cycle

due to all his stress and lack of sleep, during his heat he’s more so sleepy and whiney than desperate for a knot

yet you figured the best way to satisfy him is to be balls deep inside him while he naps

goodness, he loves that more than the tender, warm kisses you leave on his flushed skin

fight me, but he’s definitely a pillow princess during his heat

he only has you, you, you and your knot in his mind

you always praise him and it just makes him go slack, head empty aside from your words bouncing around his brain

“baby,” you grunt softly against his neck, “you like that? feel full?”

he whimpers softly, half his face flush against the pillow.

“what a good omega, such a beautiful obedient baby.”

he’ll orgasm just from that.

since his heats are irregular, his body is pent up by the time it comes, hence as much as he just wants to stay huddled up to you and float on your scent, he knows he has to have you deep inside him

you always move him around, mark him up and overstimulate him so good he still feels sensitive after his heat

he’s so thirsty during heat, and i don’t mean for water

during regular sex, he’s shy and mostly lets you do what you want but during heat? oh baby, you need to just sit there and give him your knot

he’s a pretty vicious omega during heat, you can’t go out for no reason. he will growl if you try to leave the room and/or if anyone is at the door

normaly it’s the alpha that has hella stamina, but in jisung’s case, it’s always him that overstimulates you

his heats are consistent, every month for four days, while it’s normal for it to be every 3 months. because his heats are so consistent, his body craves more than normal. you could’ve popped four knots already and he’ll still ride you without a complaint from him.

“j-jisung-“

“alpha,” he pants, smiling feverishly at you. he’s damp in sweat, bangs dripping with it. his eyes are lidded when so alive, so hungry. “again, alpha, knot me.”

it’s not a request it’s a demand. your eyes rolls back and your hips spasm.

as much as he likes being marked up by you, he does it to you too

he’ll bite, suck along your collarbone. he’s purr when you hiss or complain.

as high as his drive is, he still has a few tender moments, when he’s sitting on top of you, with your knot deep inside, kissing your wetly and with his arms around you

as long as you’re inside him, he’s more than satisfied

sometimes you have to walk with him still attached to you, his clinginess goes beyond you. he literally wants you on him and in him at all times, but obviously if it comes to restroom usage he’ll make an exception, as long as he’s in the same spot as you he’s more than satisfied

stop, he’s always overwhelmed

meaning, show him love and he’ll cry because he feels like he doesn’t seserve an alpha like you

his scent gland is oversensitive, so you kissing it gets the cutest noises out of him

he likes it when he’s on his back and you raise his hips to rut into him, he loves seeing you lose yourself in him

he loves to talk you through it, it makes him feel so useful for you

“y/n… you like using me? you like it when i clench around you as you cum? you like it when i milk you?”

you’d shiver and grunt in agreement.

“does alpha love filling his omega with his cum?”

“y-yes.”

“is felix the only one you can get fuck like this?”

“fuck,” you’d pop another knot. “yes baby, just you.”

he’ll pepper kisses all over you and cuddle you to sleep

he’ll pump pheromones so you can get scent high and go crazy over him

he’ll want you to coat his stomach with your cum, fuck his thighs, his mouth, he’s all in it to please you even when he’s in heat

he loves it when you fuck him from behind and yank his hair, mark his nape with bites and grip his hips

he likes being shoved into the sheets and treated like a rag doll

he thrives on you using him just as much as he melts when you coddle him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear

make him cry, make him gag. just make him remember he’s yours during and after his heat

[goquokka00]

Stray Kids on Weed

The Bangchan Strain In which the love of their life smokes the mary jane, and they give it a shot for the first time...

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

A Few Notes: This is purely just supposed to be funny and a joke. I've also never been high and while I am friends with those who have either tried weed or do weed on the regular, I only know so much. So please just bear with me and have a good laugh, okay? Okay. Love you guys ❤️❤️❤️

I have a very firm belief that Mr. Bangchan over here in the corner's first time ever even dealing with weed is through a joint. He gives me the vibe that if he ever did smoke, it would be from joints, and he'd be good at rolling in general.

He sees you smoking it from time to time, and this time, he wanted to give it a shot. Of course, with any first time smoking, he ends up going into a coughing fit. I mean, you're breathing in smoke, why wouldn't you cough the first time? Hello?

But once the initial high kicks in, I see Bangchan as someone who'd be very giggly. Like, anything and everything is funny to this mother fucker. The picture that has been hanging for forever on your wall that was honestly really beautiful is immediately the funniest thing Bangchan has ever laid his eyes on because, and I quote, "The bear be kronked."

It isn't just the picture. It's watching dance practices, his own music, texts he's had with you in the past, need I say more? And if he found something funny when he was sober, then you bet your ass Bangchan's pissing his pants laughing. One time you had him rewatch the video of Jisung twerking that the younger member had sent out to just the members specifically, and Bangchan was on the floor, struggling to breathe from how hard he was laughing.

I also have this feeling that Bangchan would end up being way more emotional. Since he doesn't really show emotion when he's sober, I feel like more of his emotions would come out when high because you're relaxed, and riding the vibe train to who knows where. But I'm not talking just being more susceptible to his emotions.

I'm talking the stereotypical "Teenage girl is on her period and literally can't control her emotions." Bro will literally hear one sad thing and start bawling, only to giggle a few minutes later because he thought he sounded funny and saw you laughing at him crying.

And don't even get me started on the stripping issue.

I have this gut feeling that Bangchan would find clothes...uncomfortable...when high. They're clinging to his skin, tickling his arms, his jeans just feel weird, or his sweats are too hot. And so he'd just take them off, right then and there. And I mean everything.

If you're not there to watch him, or if he gets into the mary-ja-mooch when you're not there, you're gonna end up walking into the living room to see Bangchan ass-naked and laughing at his schlong because of how it's moving.

By the time his high is finally dissipating, you're usually able to get him back onto the couch curled up with a blanket and some water. And once he's sober, you both agree that this strictly stays between you two and that the kids will NEVER find out about his.

Do I think that Chan would go back to smoking? Maybe, probably not? I feel like he'd only do it on occasion, maybe if he's had a really stressful day and needs a break, but I feel like since he always ends up like...y'know...he tends to keep it on the down low.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d

[not-goldy]

Listen up people, Park Jimin isn’t going to let some freaks on twitter get to him. He’s strong and has faced worse. I also want people to remember that twitter is not real life, especially Stan twitter. These are minuscule pathetic people hiding behind odd handles spouting hatful rhetoric and living an ugly dull life. People in the real world who only consume music are loving Jimin, his records are riding high, that’s what matters. You talk to someone off twitter they will probably know Jimin but they won’t know about the book for example (though that bitch can burn in hates). Spitting hate towards any of the members is just not appropriate.

Literally go outside and breathe in your biome for the love of all that is holy.

Couldn't agree more

[inkskinned]

one of the things about having an unstable parent is that it can so easily ruin your future. you want to get out, but getting out takes having agency. it takes the resume and the grades and the stellar community service history.

but you have to choose your battles. you know if you sign up for an after-school activity, it'll be okay for a while, so long as the activity is parent-approved and god-fearing. over time, like all things, it will become an argument (i can't keep carting your ass to these things) or a weapon (talk to me like that again, see if you get to go to practice). sometimes, if you love the thing, it's worth it. but you also know better than to love something: that's how they get you. if you ever actually want something, it will always be the center of their attention. they will never stop threatening you with it. telling you of course i'm a good parent, i came to all of those stupid events.

you learn to balance yourself perfectly. you can either have a social life or you can have hobbies. both of these things will be under constant scrutiny. you spend too much time with her, you should be at home with family is equally paired with you're acting like this because you're addicted to what's on that goddamn screen. you cannot ever actually win, so everything falls within a barter system that you calculate before entering: do you want to learn how to drive? if so, you'll need to give up asking for a new laptop, even though yours died. maybe you can work on a computer at the library. of course, that would mean you'd be allowed to go to the library, which would mean something else has to bleed. nothing ever actually comes free.

and that bitter, horrible irony: you could be literally following their orders and it still isn't pretty. they tell you to get a job; they hate that your job keeps you late and gives you access to actual money. they tell you to do better in school; they say no child of mine needs a tutor. they want you to stop being so morose, don't you know there are people who are really suffering - but they revile the idea you might actually need therapy.

you didn't survive that fall the way other people would. you've seen other people scramble and get their way out, however they could. maybe you were made too-soft: the answer didn't come to you easily. it wasn't quick. it was brutal and nasty. some people even asked you why didn't you just work hard and escape during school? and you felt your head spinning. why didn't you? (they control your financial aid. they control your loan status. they love having that kind of thing). maybe in another life you got diagnosed sooner and got the meds you needed to actually focus and got attention from the right teachers who helped you clear hurdles to get up out of here - but for now? here?

the effort of trying. the effort of not-dying. that kind of effort was absolutely agonizing.

[poisonousquinzel]

"a dude in Texas legally changed his name to "Literally Anyone Else" and he's attempting to run for President against Biden & Trump" [source]

okay, but putting aside the comedic aspect of this, it is concerning the amount of people who are prompted to vote for candidates just because it's funny. I'm not the biggest fan of how his policy about the boarder sounds [Site], but I do implore anyone who is able to vote in the 2024 US election to please research other candidates.

The media is only going to continue pushing the idea it's inevitably going to be Trump vs Biden 2.0 and we have no other options, that we have to vote for Biden again because of Project 2025. Is that whole thing terrifying?

Yeah, fucking absolutely.

But voting for Biden will not solidify our safety from that. Biden is exactly like the rest of them. He always has been. You can't make the lesser of two evils argument when they're both just plain evil.

You cannot say that Biden is even mildly a better choice than Trump when he is currently directly involved in a genocide. That is not some little fucking thing. That in and of itself disqualifies him as a lesser evil. Biden is just as bad as him and he will not save us because he doesn't fucking care.

Cornel West [Site] is an Independent candidate running for President in the 2024 Election. [Policies]

Claudia De la Cruz and Karina Garcia [Site] are running for President and Vice-President as the candidates of the Party for Socialism and Liberation in the 2024 Election. [Policies]

There are options.

There are people trying to change the corrupt foundation our system is built on, but we have to help amplify them because the mainstream media will not.

[way2gosuperrstarr]

watch my body disintegrate into a pile of ash like a cartoon character who just got struck by a lightning bolt (JOINT PAIN JOINT PAIN JOINT PAIN JOINT PAIN) (just got off work)

[stuckinapril]

kinda crazy how the main girl group I went out with fell out bc of a man tbh

[shootingthe-stars]

the repetitiveness of writing the marauders in school is getting to me like how many fucking train rides and quidditch games can i possibly write about. like i’m skipping this please i need to get to the good shit already

[starwarsanthropology]

i need to know more about tomo pls i love 'dog with separation anxiety' characters

Ok ok I gotta put this under a cut because hes. rotating inside my head always. Going to put a link to his whole little page i posted bc this gives you Some basic information as to his Vibes.

Tomo is a Corrie medic! He’s got a few different like. personas he puts on depending on context. I talk a lot about his Weird Little Unhingedness persona bc thats when he’s letting is all out without hesitation or shame, which is really fun, but he’s a brother first, then a medic, and then a pathetic little creature.

As a vod and a brother, he is very, very loyal and committed to his siblings. His core guiding motivation is to make things better for them, but because of how he thinks this tends to be an individual focus rather than a group focus; he’ll individually get everyone a blanket before pushing for a new project to get everyone blankets, etc. 

When he’s off duty and relaxed, he tends to be a friendly, nice guy. Will bend over backwards to help a vod, even one he doesn’t know, with minimal questions asked. Not a whole lot of respect for rules and authority; if you can’t indicate the practical reasons behind a standard or regulation, he will probably ignore it at his convenience. HOWEVER, he is also Definitely younger sibling coded and can be a bit of a shithead as a treat. Kind of a doormat and seems easy to bully but once he realizes he’s being teased or bullied he’ll go from the NOOOO!!! NOOO!!! younger sibling tears to I’m A Medic And I Can Tolerate And Shut Down So Much Bullshit on a dime. Likes people, likes to be around people in general, will worry and fret and scold if you’re being a bit reckless but also the biggest enabler in all of the med corps tbh. Believes in happiness and autonomy as a primary element of wellbeing and this drives a lot of that enabling; is the most likely corrie medic to go out of the way to let u keep a scar you want even if it makes his job fixing underlying structures more difficult.

He’s actually quite good at being professional when hes Being A Medic, and honestly can be a little ruthless, in terms of not hesitating to make calls (because that’s how you get people killed). His specialization is in orthopedic and reconstructive/plastic surgery, which in practice means he’s NOT out of medical much when on shift; if he’s called onto site, things are really bad. On a good day he has no emergency cases, but most of his emergencies are cases where there needs to be immediate and dramatic surgical intervention to prevent fatality. Amputations, skin grafts, major muscular trauma, broken bones; he sees a lot of really nasty shit, in his emergency capacity. In a non-emergency capacity, he still sees a lot of unpleasant and upsetting things, because he’s, yknow. reconstructing things and overseeing recovery from skeletal trauma, but it’s much much safer and less stressful. As a result of all this, he has a really strong stomach and a skewed sense of when gore, blood, or guts gets upsetting.

Also in his capacity as a medic, but off-regulation, Tomo provides a lot of suppourt to trans vode with gender-affirming care! He’ll do just about anything that’s not hazardous; he refers for tracheal shaves and bottom surgeries that require significant specialization or more advanced/specialized equipment than he has. But fillers, FFS, top surgery, horomone access? He’s gotchu.

Also; he knows he's cute. He knows people see him kind of as a pathetic little creature. He ABSOLUTELY weaponizes the shit out of this as a medic. he can cry on command because he learned the magical efficiency of just BURSTING into tears on someone avoiding the medbay. If you aren't guilted/made uncomfortable enough to comply he'll just get someone to drug you and haul you off lol

He’s a really affectionate, friendly, and easygoing guy overall, but the part of him that i talk about most often is his Little Freak setting. This is a manifestation of extreme seperation anxiety. He’s good at respecting verbal boundaries but is a Stage 5 Clinger. He will follow you into the bathroom if ur having a conversation and not notice until ur like excuse me that its weird. He’s really scared of loosing people, either to death or just to the vast distances of the galaxy, so he really really wants to be like. tangibly tied to people. This is where his cannibalism schtick comes from like he cannot imagine a closer intimacy than the physical substance of one’s self being intergrated into the other through consumption…. carry him with you forever and vice versa….. woah…..

@mamuzzy also pulled a GALAXY BRAIN take putting him w Mereel in that one art. Rotted my brain hard for them as a cringefail couple where their respective toxic traits slide off each other like water off a duck. I have a Lot of meta for that im not going to elaborate on too much beyond tomos tendancy towards clinginess being satisfied by mereel pinging him when he’s away, mereel being unbothered and indulgent of his weirdness, and tomo being game enough to help mereel that mereels habit of social engineering and manipulation to get what he wants doesnt have a chance to get toxic bc tomo is already willing give mereel whatever he wants with the ironclad exception of endangering his patients, which he is too stubborn and protective to be manipulated directly about anyway.

I decided that they met bc mereel needed to change his apperance for smth, hooked up w tomo (convenient emotionally vulnerable mark! yippee!) to gain access to medical supplies, was asking about a kind of filler (intended use for joint injuries but off-label use as a filler) to figure out if he can self-administer it and Tomo was immediately like oh i can administer it if you want to try! It’s easy to dissolve if you don’t like it! Mereel agreed, Tomo put in the temporary fillers, and they both walked away from the encounter satisfied and with each other’s contact information in their pocket.

It is very important to note that while Tomo IMMEDIATELY recognized Mereel was interested in the filler’s capacity to change facial structure and apperance, he did not realize Mereel wanted apperance-altering interventions for a mission until months later when someone pointed out he is a black ops specialist and got together with Tomo to use his skills n specializations.  He had fully been working on the assumption that Mereel had just been interested in gender exploration even after they had an established pattern of Tomo administering temporary cosmetic procedures for Mereel’s missions

ANYWAY thank u I love him he is so deeply strange. just an odd little dude.

[batsplat]

Sepang 2006: After an exhausting race, Valentino Rossi brings a chair to the podium and sits down. Loris Capirossi joins him to sit on his lap.

[hella1975]

so it turns out it was actually never that serious

[moe-broey]

OKAY OKAY I'M GONNA POST SOME OF MY RAMBLINGS FROM THE GROUP CHAT BC. I'm SO EXCITED about what I fucking scored (these are just snippets I Talked. A Lot LMFAOO)

Okay. Context. Just one pic that doesn't do it full justice bc it has cool little details too (ESP: little straps near the waist that button/unbutton, EXTREMELY USEFUL AND IDEAL to carry my noise cancelors with) (will hit image limit so just saying Dude Trust Me)

Okay. GO

LIKE. LIKE. I went on a whole ass journey about this. The vest I'm talking about in that last screenshot is this really gorgeous handmade green/beige blocked w flower print (it's like. Femme Masc. To me) that I got at a craft fair, for reference! Something I Barely wear/honestly save for special occasions bc 1) the Collar I did not factor in The Collar BUT. I FIXED THIS. WITH SAFETY PINS. Honestly I don't know why I didn't think to do that sooner. And 2) It's... incredibly difficult to pair w my usual jacket. If not impossible.

THIS... CAN CHANGE.... like something I said that I cut out here is The Potential. Of customizing this jacket Intentionally. So that I can layer it in both directions -- worn on top of things ofc but FOCALLY. Easy to wear Underneath something.

IDK IDK I'M JUST SOOOOOO PICKY ABOUT MATERIAL AND HOW THINGS FIT so it's like INSANELY COOL. That I scored something Like This that fits Perfectly to my preferences AND is really good material ESP when I've been wanting to start a new punk jacket For Forever...... again, with more intention this time! I don't have any clear plans or ideas. But I am thinking about The Purpose of it, what I Want from it, and exactly How I want it. And going from there!

[icewindandboringhorror]

While I don't know much about it, I would probably bet there are tons of issues with the cruise industry that would make me not actually appreciate it broadly speaking - HOWEVER, I do really love a lot of the interior design of some cruise ships.. How it's almost like a miniature city crammed into one area. Multiple sections with all different aesthetic designs, a variety of shops, restaurants, activity centers, community seating areas, communal use spaces (like gyms, laundry, pools, cafeteria/buffet (which I always love anywhere)), etc. etc. but then also everyone has a little nice clean comfortable looking space of their own to retreat back to if they'd like to be alone. Maybe it's something akin to the idea of 'walkable cities', where everything you could ever want to do is kind of right there just a short walk away? I also especially love how so much stuff is stacked on top of other stuff, a layered cluster of spaces, bright open atriums, and when they're set up with little walkways down the center between a bunch of rooms so it's almost like a mini city street with apartments lining it, etc.. They often seem like they'd be SUCH a cool place to live permanently, IF only something identical was just built on solid land instead lol

[isthehorsevideocute]

If I see one more walk/trot adult ammy fly around the country/go overseas to go horse shopping I'm going to have a fucking aneurysm.....

[matoitech]

<- guy who likes promare and is just kind of tired of the posts about the 'degenerate porn addicted male fans of an anime studio' in the dungeon meshi tag for months. you guys arent really being normal im not gonna lie. like its not bad to complain abt gross guys being weird abt ur favorite character, i think its gross too, but like what the hell lol. you think this is you being more normal??