#if you know one story you know all stories etc etc

[madelinenerdfighter]

Please can the Communists take away my bad air?

Today 54 pm2

At is worst 90pm2

I live in social housing in BC Canada. This has been going on since august. Now I'm taking them to the residential tenancy board who seem to be taking it seriously as they triaged the hearing much earlier than is normal. But who knows what that will actually mean.

And it turns out that nowhere in British Columbia do we have a residential air quality division even though we have Civic codes around it. That was quite the runaround is divisions kept sending me to other divisions and back again

It's making me so sick. Before they put me on mega doses of antihistamines this happened mid-august 2023

Ventilation ductwork has not been cleaned in the 27 years that I've lived here. Unless elves did it while we were sleeping LOL

I have to keep the heat off or it sucks up the bad air through the walls. I have to keep my window and balcony door open to try to mitigate the air and keep the temperature down because the downstairs neighbors like to cook bake for up to 19 hours and there's two of them so it's like someone is pooping and showering and using fragranced products and cooking and baking inside my apartment.

Temperature inside my apartment

There's more terrible to the story, but I think that sums up why I definitely want the Communists to take away my bad air!

Also please can the communists also take away my bullying property portfolio manager as well? Rather than deal with what was clearly a bad air issue before my air got bad, this is the notice he sent to the whole building populated by low income seniors and persons with disabilities under the guise of protecting people's right to enjoy their apartment rather than buying a vowel and realizing that the sudden increase in complaints means the there is something wrong with the valentilation system.

FYI marijuana is legal here and my building is designated is allowing smoking inside residents apartments. Also FYI I am very allergic to all these substances, but even so thought this was a ridiculous notice especially considering it was the middle of summer, beyond hot, and this is a population that can't afford air conditioners. So I have this crazy idea that maybe they should deal with the actual issues not threaten a vulnerable population

Notice reads on pale pink paper like that makes it okay:

*dear residents

(bold) RE unacceptable behavior marijuana tobacco smoke and other substances smoke

Recently our office received at several complaints regarding the strong smell of marijuana as well as tobacco smoke emanating from some of the suites into the common areas of the building and property. Another problem that was brought to our attention is the issue of some tenants smoking tobacco marijuana and other substances with open windows/doors

I would like to remind to all tenants that this behavior is clearly taking away from the other residents their right to have enjoyment of their homes and / or property as it creates public nuisance. Please note this unacceptable behavior may result in and steps being taken to end tenancy

If you wish to discuss this forever you can contact me at, redacted

Sincerely, redacted*

So yes, can the Communists please come take away this ppm who has confused property portfolio manager with feudal Lord.

And this is all on top of the fact that I can't get baseline supports to survive. Info in petition

And the bad air situation is making me extra extra sick and it's costing me so much money in HEPA filters and mega dose antihistamines, ER visit an extra Health supports that I was already out of pocket on etc which is taking away critical energy from focusing on this petition.

And All the while I've been living month to month on GoFundMe money after going 45,000 in medical debt on a disease that no province in Canada even has a medical service provider healthcare category of coverage so the feds have stats so they can start properly doing research and educating physicians.

I still haven't gotten a Canadian legacy Media to do a story and how the heck does anything change if the supreme Court and the human rights tribunal in Canada and British Columbia consider what's happening to me to be a political(yeah I spent years trying to push your rock up that hill). Although I'm extremely grateful for this UK article

And a small market piece that happened the year before

And there have been other small market pieces (pinned tweet of @iammadelinepod Twitter). And I have definitely appreciated that

But seriously, Canadian legacy Media said the only reason they weren't doing stories about my situation is that I wasn't fully public. They wouldn't protect my identity to protect my life. So I've thrown caution to the when, and I'm now fully public and crickets continue. And this for a disease, longviral myalgicE, that stats Canada says has been gaining additional sufferers at a rate of 37% at the third covid infection. Epstein-Barr got me 45 years ago, and I can say with 100% confidence that I am theur Canary in the coal mine

So when low income people especially low income people with disabilities, on top of all the other obstacles that we're dealing with, have to deal with unhealthy living situations, it can be a capsizing and deadly situation.

So yes, definitely, can the Communists come and take all this nonsense away too? I'd very much like to not be dead due only to lack of supports

The communists want to take away YOUR MOLD

[sabertoothwalrus]

I dunno if this is asking too much of your time/being obnoxious but, what sort of study/practice would you recommend for someone who wants to do comics professionally but can't go to college for it/is financially strapped?? Thank you for reading this!

well, considering I’m not going to school to do comics and have never done comics professionally, I definitely think it’s something you can teach yourself! I’ve thought about doing graphic novels, but haven’t done much research. I can share what general information I know.

The skills you’d use to make storyboards stronger are VERY transferrable to the ones that make comics stronger. It’s best to have a good sense of perspective, storytelling/pacing, visual clarity, action, etc.

Comics have a fun little quirk where you can really play with time in a way that storyboards can’t. In a storyboard, if two characters have their mouths open at the same time, the animator will assume they’re speaking at the same time. But in comics, you can have multiple moments in a singular panel, and time will “pass” as the reader’s eye moves across it.

There’s lots of different ways to arrange comics. The webtoons-style scroll comics are very popular right now, and they’re nice in the sense that you spend less time worrying about how an entire page is arranged, BUT it makes it harder if you ever decide to sell a physical version. Spending the extra time at the beginning to set up your formatting will save you trouble in the long run.

Also consider time. Making a comic can be a long term commitment. Figure out how frequently you can produce finished pages without burning out— daily? Three times a week? Once a week?— and calculate how long it’d take you to fill up a volume. Would it be your full time job, or would you be working on top of that? A lot of serialized comics can be a 10+ year commitment!!

There’s also publishing independently, or working for a studio. Indie comics will give you more freedom for what your story/art direction/deadlines will be, but comics are very oversaturated and hard to get readers looking at your work. A studio will help with that kind of thing, but depending where you go, you may be illustrating based on a concept someone else has written (which— that can be preferable for some people!).

But regardless, the best way to study comics is by reading comics! Pay attention to art styles you like (and if it has an entire team of assistants helping it look that way), pay attention to speech bubble arrangements, how value is used, how panels are shaped. And pay attention to when you’re confused too! You can learn from other artists’ mistakes.

and draw a lot. I started doing “comics” ~2016 by drawing all the panels on a page in my sketchbook, and then taking pictures of each part zoomed in with my phone, and then posting the panels as individual images. At some point that translated to me doing digital comics where I draw on one canvas, and make a new layer for each panel. I do this a lot still! And more recently I’ve been putting an effort into doing paneled comics. It’s not as hard as it used to be for me, but now I have almost 10 years of comic experience under my belt!! So keep drawing!!! Just do it a lot and you’ll get better

[cybermcdel]

— 𝔖𝗨𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗠𝗢𝗗𝗘𝗟, rafe cameron . . . ⋆ ࿔｡  

⌗ pairing: ❪ rafe cameron x plus size!fem reader ❬

⌗ summary: ❪ dinner with rafe’s friends don’t go the way you expected… ❫

⌗ tags: ❪ angst, fighting with rafe, cursing etc! ❫

⌗ a/n: ❪ i just want come on here and say, your beautiful and so is your body. so go eat that snack that you’ve been craving. ❫

— ( 💿 ) 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 —

❝I don't see myself

Why I can't stay alone just by myself?

Wish I was comfortable just with myself.❞

Rafe had invited you out with his friends for dinner, insisting it would be fun. You weren’t exactly thrilled about it—his friends could be a lot, and not always in a good way—but Rafe wanted you there, and if he wanted something, you usually gave in.

The restaurant was one of those upscale casual spots—nice enough that you wouldn’t show up in sweats, but not so fancy that you needed a reservation. You felt good in your outfit, your confidence high as you walked in beside Rafe, your hand tucked securely in his.

At first, things were fine. A few laughs, some inside jokes you didn’t entirely get but played along with for Rafe’s sake. But then, the teasing started.

It was subtle at first. Little comments. Snide smirks. Looks.

You were sipping your drink when Topper leaned back in his chair, nodding toward your half-empty plate. “Damn, you’re really going in on that pasta, huh?”

The comment was laced with something sharp. You stiffened, glancing at Rafe, but he was too busy scrolling through his phone to catch it.

Kelce chuckled, adding, “Yeah, we just got the food, and you’re already halfway done. You weren’t, like, starving all day or something, were you?”

Your grip on your fork tightened. “I just eat at a normal pace, unlike you guys who act like you’re allergic to chewing.”

“True,” Sarah chimed in, sending you a supportive smile, but it wasn’t enough to stop the way Topper and Kelce exchanged glances like they were amused by you.

“Relax, we’re just joking,” Topper said, though his smirk told a different story. “You’re just a little more into your food than the rest of us. It’s kinda cute, actually.”

You clenched your jaw. You weren’t stupid. You knew exactly what he was saying.

Rafe finally looked up then, his gaze flicking between you and his friends. He didn’t say anything—maybe he didn’t even realize what was happening—but his arm moved to rest along the back of your chair, his fingers brushing your shoulder like he could feel the shift in your mood.

Then, it got worse.

When the waiter came back to check on your table, you ordered dessert—a slice of cheesecake, because you wanted it. But the moment the waiter walked away, Kelce let out a low whistle.

“Man, you’re still going? Gotta respect the commitment.”

“She’s bulking,” Topper snickered, nudging Rafe’s arm. “Right, Cameron?”

Your stomach twisted. It wasn’t even what they were saying—it was the tone, the way they were looking at you, like you were some joke they were all in on.

And Rafe? He laughed.

It was a small chuckle, almost absentminded, but it was enough.

Something in you cracked.

You shoved your chair back, the sound scraping against the floor as you stood up.

“Yeah, you know what? Fuck this,” you said, grabbing your bag. “I’m not gonna sit here and let you guys act like I’m some fucking sideshow act for your entertainment.”

Rafe’s head snapped up at your tone, his amusement vanishing instantly. “Baby—”

“No,” you cut him off, glaring at his so-called friends. “You guys are pathetic. Like, seriously. Sitting here laughing at me like you didn’t all get your asses handed to you in that stupid beer pong tournament last week.”

Kelce scoffed. “What—”

“And Topper,” you turned on him next, voice dripping with venom, “you wanna talk about eating habits? You were the same guy who cried over his macros being off when you didn’t get enough protein at that party. Grow the fuck up.”

Topper’s face turned red.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” you finished, shoving your chair under the table, “I’m gonna leave before I waste another second of my time with this bullshit.”

You turned to walk away, and for a second, you thought Rafe would just let you go. But then, his chair scraped back, and before you even reached the door, his hand caught yours.

“Hey, hey, baby,” he said, pulling you to a stop. His voice was softer now, lower. “Wait.”

You yanked your hand away. “For what, Rafe? So you can keep laughing with them? So I can keep being the punchline?”

His jaw clenched. “You know that’s not—fuck—I wasn’t laughing at you, I swear.”

“Didn’t seem like it,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

Rafe exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. Then, without a word, he turned back to the table.

“Yo,” he said, his voice dangerously calm as he leaned against the edge. “You guys wanna tell me what the fuck that was?”

Kelce blinked. “Dude, come on, it was just—”

“I don’t care what you think it was,” Rafe cut him off, his tone cold. “That’s my girl you’re talking to like that. My girl, who I brought here, and you think you can sit there and clown her like she’s some fucking joke?”

Topper raised his hands. “Rafe, man—”

“Nah,” Rafe shook his head. “Nah. Y’all are dumb if you think I’m letting this slide. You wanna make jokes? Fine. Just don’t expect to sit at my table while you’re doing it.”

Silence.

Kelce shifted uncomfortably. “Dude, we were just messing—”

“Then mess with each other,” Rafe snapped. “Not her. Never her.”

You stared at him, your heart twisting, but you didn’t let your guard down. Not yet.

Rafe turned back to you, his expression softer now. “Baby, I swear I didn’t mean to laugh. I wasn’t thinking. But I should’ve said something immediately, and I didn’t. That’s on me. I fucked up.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Yeah, you did.”

He sighed, stepping closer. “I know. And I hate that I made you feel like I was one of them just now. But I promise you, I’m��not.”

You didn’t say anything, still holding your ground.

Rafe hesitated, then, in a low voice, added, “Please don’t go. Let me fix this.”

You exhaled, tension still thrumming through your veins, but… fuck. He was trying.

After a long moment, you sighed. “You’re paying for my cheesecake.”

Rafe’s lips twitched, relief flooding his face. “Obviously.”

And when he reached for your hand this time, you let him.

[darnell-la]

JEALOUS OF HIMSELF

pairing: butch!wolverine x reader x jealous!logan howlett

summary: Logan felt ignorant of his jealousy towards his female variant. she was him, but better when it came to getting close to the woman they had eyes for. he was ready to lash out once he saw y/n being his variant up to her room until the variant had a plan — a plan she had been planning for weeks.

warnings: homosexuality, female variant automatically being better, jealousy, dominating, rough sex, threesome, creampies, breeding kink, claiming, territorial, anger, etc.

note: I spent a while on this one — I really see the vision in this story, and I hope guys do too!

this story was requested!

———

“I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight, Bubba,” Lo, the female variant of Logan asked as she brushed up against y/n’s back. Y/n had only been in the void for a month, and it didn’t take any time for the two wolverines to make their move.

“And, why is that?” Y/n asked as she turned around in her chair with a smirk plastered across her face. “You can barely hold your class, sweetheart,” Lo said before she leaned into her ear. “And, I bet you’d let me kiss you with ease,”

Lo was known for taking her shot whenever she wanted, and right now seemed like the best time. Y/n had been eyeballing Lo all night, smirking, and even looking her up and down. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Hey, Bub — Why don’t you fuck off, yeah?” Logan said as he came up to the two, blood boiling because he knew Lo was here to make a move on y/n before he could.

They’ve been fighting over the young girl ever since she got here, yet they both never had any luck. Even though y/n shows affection towards both of them, she loves watching them argue for her.

“Why would I? Seems like she’s pretty comfortable here, yeah?” Lo turned to y/n who was smiling at the two already butting heads. “Yeah- I’m comfortable,” y/n said as she softly touched Lo’s bicep, making sure to look straight into Logan’s eyes.

“You see — Your girls comfortable,” Lo said before chuckling and leaning back into y/n’s ear. “How about we bait him upstairs to have a good time, Bub,” Lo whispered, making sure Logan had no idea what y/n would be giggling at.

“C’mon, then,” y/n said as she got up and pulled Lo with her. “Hey!” Logan said as he followed the two. He knew how much of an asshole head be if he tried cock blocking Lo because his cousins get y/n, but at this point, he didn’t care.

“You’re gonna have a fun night tonight, sweets,” Lo whispered into y/n’s ear before slapping her ass, as y/n made her way up the stairs to her room. “Hey- Lo! — We need to talk!” Logan demanded only a few feet behind the two, witnessing everything Lo was going to get.

“We can talk tomorrow- I’m pretty busy, as you can see,” Lo said as she made it to the top of the stairs. “Go into the room, princess — I’ll be right there,” Lo whispered into y/n’s ear once again before stopping to look back at Logan.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Huh!?” Logan pushed Lo against the wall. “Someone who can get your girl before you,” Lo smirked as Logan turned around with his fist tight, wanting to beat Lo unconscious. Would it matter? He would be basically beating himself.

“You needa chill, though, dude — I never said I wouldn’t be down to share,” Lo said, wanting Logan to finally understand that she liked the Wolverine, which is them both. Not just one.

“What? Are you fucking dumb!?” Logan grabbed Lo’s by her tank top and slammed her against the wall. “Hey- Relax! — I’m saying we can have her at the same time. She’s in there waiting for us both, not just one of us,”

At first, Logan wanted to argue until he thought to himself. He calmed down at the thought of y/n actually wanting him to. Even if she bonded more with Lo. He honestly couldn’t care less who she liked more, he just wanted y/n to know she belonged to him too.

“If this is one of your sick games, you’re dead, you understand?” Logan asked. “Understood, Mister James,” Lo said before pushing Logan off of her. “Now, don’t hold back — I’ve been dying for this night,” Lo warned Logan not to mess up what they’ve both been waiting for, for weeks.

“Sorry, I took so long, Bub — Had to convince this dickhead that you’ve got plenty of holes to kiss, yeah?” Lo asked as she made her way into y/n’s room. Logan came in after her before closing and locking her room door.

“Yes, but- I-I didn’t know you were serious, Lo. I-I’ve never done anything like t-this before,” y/n said as she shifted in her bed. “I think you’ll be just fine, Bubba — All you’ve gotta do is lay back, and let us work, yeah? We’re two big strong mutants that shouldn’t need you to do much,”

The way all speaks to y/n, makes her feel safe and sure that absolutely nothing could ever go wrong, as long as she’s there. Lo was the only reason why y/n was in the position she was in now.

“F-Feel-Feels good,” y/n stuttered, now laid on her back as Logan’s fingers curled inside of her, and his tongue went at it on her bud. Lo on the other hand had one hand pinching a free nipple as her other nipple stayed occupied with her mouth.

“J-Just so much,” y/n whined at how rough Logan was fingering her. Without knowing, the man kept edging her, making it harder doe her to give him what he’d been asking for. “Stop holding back, Bub, before you make me angry,”

Y/n whined at the way the man talked to her. She loved his aggression, but right now, his aggression wasn’t giving her time to leak over his face.

“Dude, you’re switching your strokes too many times. Stay at one!” Lo shouted at the man, but Logan refused to listen to her. “Fucking dick,” Lo said as she got up and pushed Logan off of y/n.

“Get to suckin’ on her tits before I slice your tongue off — Fucking useless,” Lo said before she went down onto y/n, instantly making y/n cry out in pleasure. The young girl's hands rushed through Lo’s hair as the other reached for Logan.

“I-It felt good- I just need it more g-gentle for the first run,” y/n wants to make sure Logan didn’t feel left out. The man leaned into y/n, wanting to apologize, but y/n crashed her lips onto his to assure him he read fine.

Within a minute, y/n could feel the knot in her stomach ready to untie. She tried holding it back for a little, just to keep Lo in between her legs, but it was impossible. She had shushed and throbbed onto the woman Wolverine’s face.

“F-F-Fuck,” y/n shook as Logan kissed over y/n’s neck, wanting to somehow mark her as his in some way. He wanted people, including Lo to know that y/n had to be his.

“Maybe, instead of giving her middle school hickeys, fill her up,” Lo suggested as she got up to wipe her face. “What!?” Y/n said after Logan pulled away, wanting to know if she heard Lo well.

“C’mon, Bub — We’re all adults here — Plus, you talk to me like your average girl-friend. I know you’re on birth control,” Lo smirked over at y/n as she wiped her face in the cover of the room.

He didn’t know why, but Logan felt a rush of going feral run through his body. The thought of filling her up, and claiming in that way whenever he pleased, was something Lo couldn’t possibly do.

“I — I don’t know about that,” y/n said, as she looked at Logan who was now looking at Lo. She could feel her heart drop, knowing she signed up for something that she wouldn’t get out of any time soon.

“Is this a one-time thing, or does she actually belong to us?” Logan asked. “I barely wanted to share her with you,” Lo admitted. “So, I’d be the only one filling her up?” Logan asked, making Lo roll her eyes. “God, are all of my men variants so territorial?” Lo rolled her eyes as she sat down on a couch.

“Yes, Logan- You’ll be the only one to fill her up, now could you maybe make her orgasm like I did, or so I have to get back up and show you how it’s done?”

Logan wasted no time hovering over y/n and moved in between her legs. “Wait- I-I didn’t agree to anything yet,” y/n said which only made the two wolverines laugh.

“Baby, just relax and take the real Wolverine. He may not be good with his fingers, but because he’s me, I know he’d be a dog with his dick,” Lo just knew Logan wasn’t going to disappoint when it comes to fucking y/n. She’ll never tell him, he she had been waiting to watch this for weeks.

“Logan? Are you seriously not gonna talk to me?” Y/n looked up at Logan with puppy eyes, maybe thinking he’d slow down a bit, and let her get an idea of what she was in for, but those eyes only made him want to use her more.

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you, y/n, and you’re not gonna fucking stop me — Just like you didn’t stop Lo from eating your sweet soul out,”

Logan had already had his cock out, ready to go to work on y/n, but now y/n began to fight. At first, Logan thought he should maybe calm down, and that y/n could perhaps actually be uncomfortable.

But, then he remembered how strong y/n was. She was a variant everyone down here was scared of, including Cassandra. If y/n wanted to push Logan off for real, she would’ve by now.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” Logan asked right before he reached for y/n’s neck, and gripped. “Then you’d be perfect for me,” Logan added before he plunged into y/n, making sure every inch slipped past her folds.

A scream escaped her mouth before they turned into whiny loud moans. “Yeah? — Feels good?” Logan asked, wasting no time pounding his way into y/n with as much roughness as she could take.

“Logan-“ y/n’s voice broke as her eyes squinted, trying to figure out ways to take him, but it was impossible. He was huge and long, and every vein he had brushed all over her walls.

“T-Too much- Please — Please break real quick,” y/n quickened her sentence as she felt like she couldn’t speak. The way he pierced her stomach made her feel like she was going to pass out. She would be lying if she said she hated it…

“I don’t think you need a break, princess — I think you need it deeper, yeah?” Logan asked, but couldn’t care for an answer as he pushed y/n’s legs further apart and back before pounding deeper into her.

“N-No- Fuck,” y/n felt ashamed that she was going to cum hard around the man she swore could never have her. He knew exactly how she felt, and that’s why he smirked down at her. He was an asshole, but she loved it.

“Thought I couldn’t fuck you, huh? Look how easy it is now — Can’t even take a few inches,” Logan growled inches from her face. “I don’t think that thing’s a few inches, buddy,” Lo chimed in.

“But, she talked so much shit — Telling people I couldn’t possibly handle you, yet, you’re here fighting for your life,” Logan teased as y/n’s violently shook. She tried keeping her voice in but ended up whining so loud, her eyes began to water.

“Ah huh- that’s it — Give it to me, baby,” Logan groaned as he picked up his pace. “Fucking give it to me!” Logan shouted in the young girl's face as y/n felt like she was going to see her memories flash before her eyes.

“That’s fucking it, baby. That’s fucking it- That’s how I want it — That’s how I want it!” Logan continued to pound as he felt himself twitch and then spill into y/n. He could tell by the way his cock twitched, that this would be the biggest spill he’s ever had.

“No way she’s leaking you already,” Lo giggles to herself as she watched the man pound down into y/n’s now messy and soaked cunt. Logan had groaned at what Lo said, now feeling like he could dump a few more into her.

“Turn around,” Logan demanded, but before she could even think for a second, Logan pulled y/n up, turned her around, and slammed her down on her stomach.

“Log- Logan!” Y/n went to speak, but she was too late. The man had already slammed into her from the back, basically imprinting her into the mattress. “So fucking tight!” Logan growled into y/n’s ear as he ran his hands through her hair to tug on it a few times.

“You’re like an extra small condom on my cock- squeezing me so fucking good — All in the right places,” the huge man whispered in her ear before leaning up and pushing her head into the mattress, now slamming into her with absolutely no mercy.

[summertimesadnessirl]

The US government is just like that.

I thought that was obvious now with Trump and everything?

It's basically a cargo cult.

Anything that reminds boomers of their youth will sell to them.

They didn't make the prosperity they grew up with and they don't know how it works and the ones who didn't fry their brains with drugs fried their brains with religious trauma.

A lot of the rich ones fried their brains with both plus they watched their older siblings die in a war and then had the second mass mind control effort in America used on them- the first was the war effort propaganda. That made the greatests and was largely regarded as a bad move.

The boomers had the satanic panic worked on them.

I never shut up about the satanic panic because it makes me wanna scream but fr you need to understand that they threw every drug in the book at a bunch of traumatized kids and then fed them all this trippy cryptic trauma triggering imagery with the goal of making all the changes their generation tried to make literally traumatize the fuck out of them. Some of it was based on true stories, some of it was based on taking advantage of problems they might have created in a vague way, some of it was just literally funding the messages they wanted out of nowhere.

The goal was to put people back on the straight and narrow path. Sometimes literally, because millions of bi and queer boomers were shoved back into the closet. Millions more were shoved back into the home, the church, the workforce, etc.

Also, congress used to have a dedicated staff of researchers who would help them with math, science, law, etc. Questions. They don't have that anymore.

All you need to do is convince a bunch of people who are paid to mainly do what a handful of rich people want and tow the party line that the party line is x.

In this case it was "we have to do something about 9/11."

Literally they didn't even know what they needed to do about 9/11. They just needed to do something.

I missed most of the Iraq war due to being a baby, but every time I read about it I start wondering why we aren’t all talking about it all of the time

[eempyreall]

I am craving more of your hybrid yandere writing, on my knees begging 🙇

maybe something with the haitani brothers my beloveds? but honestly I'd be so happy with anything and anyone, fandom or original!

thank you for even considering I absolutely adore your work 💘

Thank you for your request!! <3

༺————————————————————————༻

♪ 𝐵𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑦 𝐷𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝐶𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑛 ♪

༺ The Auction ༻

Oneshot ~ Hybrid Haitani Brothers x Female Reader

Summary ~ You work for an auction house that illegally sells exotic hybrids.

Featuring ~ The Haitani Brothers

Extra Notes ~ This is the fandom version of this story. If you want to read the non fandom that provides original characters, press this link.

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Warning ~

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Despite your job as a maintenance caregiver for the hybrids, your morals do not match that of your role. It is your belief that, although hybrids are deemed monsters and creatures, they should be treated like any other human. However, the pay is undeniably convenient and quicker than any other regular career you could work for.

You never expected to get attached to any of the hybrids at the auction house. Your only job was to maintain their care before they were sold to the highest bidder. You had succeeded with your logical approach since you began working at the house a couple of years ago.

It wasn’t until two snow leopard hybrids appeared in a way that was hard to ignore.

“These are the new captures,” the gruff voice of the broad, middle-aged man states. “Clean ‘em up.” Your boss turns to leave the room as you examine the two men through the bars of the large cage.

The one on the left is tall, leaning against the cold metal wall with his arms lazily crossed over his chest. His long, black-and-blonde hair drapes over his shoulders, a few loose strands framing his sharp jawline, smeared with dried blood. The blood is also streaked down his fit torso, staining the large tattoo on his skin. A sly smirk spreads across his face as he eyes his extended claws.

His droopy, heavy-lidded purple eyes shift to yours, the weight of his gaze heavy despite the lighthearted expression on his face. His ears are perked as his tail sways slowly. If you look closely, you can even see the stained crimson on his black pants. You notice that he doesn’t look wounded, so you wonder where the blood came from.

Next to his standing figure is a man with similar features, sitting on the ground. One arm is draped over his raised knee while the other is planted on the bottom of the cage. His blue-and-blonde hair is cut short at the sides but longer at his neck. His body has matching ink, though on the opposite side. Blood stains him just as much as the former.

His expression is indifferent, bored, as his heavy-lidded gaze sticks to the side, never meeting yours. His tail lies over the leg that’s flat on the ground, his claws extended as the dim light casts a glow over them.

Neither of them seem to be in pain. It makes you wonder what could’ve happened on their way here. If the older male had stayed, you would’ve asked so you’d know what to expect.

There are hybrids who are violent, indifferent, and scared. In your two years of working at the auction house, you’ve never come across anyone violent. You’re mainly consistent with those who are indifferent and scared. These guys don’t look scared. If anything, they look bored—but the blood says otherwise. It’s definitely not their own.

“You just gonna stand there and stare, or are you gonna clean us already?”

Your attention turns to the male sitting on the ground, whose eyes are now on you.

Day one was interesting, to say the least.

“You're handling me with such care, human~” the long-haired man drawled, the suds of the bath covering his lower half, his hair dripping with moisture as he watched you glide the cloth against the skin of his arm. “You like me or somethin'?”

You give him an unimpressed look as you release his wrist, tossing him the wet cloth before grabbing a clean one. “You can clean your own balls.”

The blonde male snickered as you began to wash his back, while the older male whined, “Aww,” in response to your statement.

Once they were completely dried off and you had used the blow-dryer on their manes, you secured the collars around their necks and walked them to their new cage, the leashes in your hand.

They watched your figure as you walked in front of them, leading them to the cage which had futons, clean and ready for their temporary stay.

Once they were secured inside, you unhooked their leashes and locked the cage behind you.

The taller one leaned against the bars closest to you, his arms crossed above his head. “I wonder if you taste better than our lunch from earlier,” he said with a smirk.

You ignored him, suppressing the slight churn of your stomach so as not to give him the reaction he was looking for. It was best to pretend you didn't care what he had just said.

“Probably. That meal was ass,” the younger one stated as he relaxed on the futon.

You rolled your eyes and waved them off as you walked out.

When day two arrived, you entered the holding area in which the brothers were caged. The auction house was grand enough to have individual rooms, each holding at least two hybrids, secured behind bars.

The younger one sat on the futon, his back leaning against the back of the cage, arms draped over his bent knees as he idly flicked his tail. His blue-and-blonde hair was slightly messier than before, and his sharp eyes followed your every movement.

The older one stretched out across the futon, hands tucked comfortably behind his head as he cracked an eye open at your presence. His ears twitched, his tail flicking once before settling.

You unlocked the cage, stepping inside with ease. You didn’t say anything as you placed a tray of large raw fish inside.

“Room service, huh?” the older one smirked as he pushed himself up on his elbows.

You exhaled through your nose, unamused. “Eat.”

The following days became routinely consistent as you took care of the hybrids. You would arrive at their cage, feed them, monitor their vitals, bathe them, and feed them once more. Despite their playful behavior, you kept your responses short—yet somehow, they always found a way to pry a reaction out of you.

The older male, Ran, had a habit of watching you too intently. He’d study your movements and expressions while lazily draping over the futon or leaning against the bars. Despite his laid-back persona, there was intent behind every word he chose, amusement reaching his expression as he smirked whenever your lips twitched at something he said. Although Rin was quieter, he was blunt, slicing through whatever wall you tried to keep between yourself and them.

They were different from the other hybrids brought to the auction house. They weren’t scared, angry, or hopeless—though you couldn’t blame the others for feeling how they felt. If anything, they seemed to enjoy their situation a bit too much, as if it were a game.

As time went on, you continued to do your job, but at some point, your indifference began to slip.

The first time you laughed, it caught you off guard.

It wasn’t intentional. Ran had made some offhand comment—something absurd but delivered with such a straight face that you couldn’t help it. The sound barely left your lips before you caught it.

Ran’s grin widened as Rin’s lips curved into a smirk. You rolled your eyes and turned away, shutting down and replacing the mask you hide your real personality behind. After that, they continued to try and get a rise out of you, their amusing behaviors becoming more frequent.

There were a couple more times that you failed to keep your composure, despite your better judgment. You’d even make a few sly remarks in return that would make them raise an eyebrow with an amused gaze, their ears perking up and tails upright with a curve at the tip.

Regardless, you still remained professional. You didn’t linger longer than necessary. You didn’t acknowledge the way Ran’s eyes followed you when you walked away or how Rindou’s tail would twitch whenever you got too close. You ignored the way their bodies would subtly lean in your direction when you bathed them or checked them over.

You even ignored that you were beginning to enjoy their presence. You knew it was best not to get attached—soon enough, you’d never see them again.

You stood in the bathroom after bathing the males, using the blow-dryer on Ran's hair as he sat on the wooden chair. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he crossed a leg over along with his arms. His tail was low under the towel that covered his lower body, though it twitched slightly when you guided the bristles of the brush through his mane. The leopard almost drifted off to sleep as you worked through his long strands.

Rindou, on the other hand, stood off to the side, leaning against the door with his arms crossed.

A towel covered his lower half, but his tail thrashed slightly underneath. His posture was tense as he eyed you.

Suddenly, you felt a strong tug on the back collar of your top, yanking you back with a sharp force that caused you to drop the blow-dryer onto Ran's lap and the brush to hit the floor.

A gasp escaped your lips as Rin lifted you up, his claws gripping your thighs and hoisting you onto the sink. He wedged himself between your legs as his head dipped between your neck and shoulder. Your hands reached his shoulders as he caged you in, his towel dangerously low.

“What the fuck?” you questioned, startled by the sudden movement as you leaned back, holding onto him. His nose pressed into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm as he slowly nuzzled your skin, his hands caging you in on either side of your hips.

His tail flicked behind him as his lips barely dragged along the lining of your neck, your body frozen as you stared across the room with wide eyes.

“Rin…” Your voice came out softer than you had wanted it to, a chill crawling up your spine as your nails pierced his skin.

He pulled back, a sharp gaze meeting yours, irritation clear in his expression. His ears were slightly pinned back as his grip on the counter tightened.

“You reek of mutt.”

Your brows furrowed with confusion as you pushed him back further, though he stayed in place.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He ignored you as his head dipped low again, a hand reaching up as he brushed against your jawline.

“Fixing it. You smell filthy,” he said, his voice rough.

Your breath hitched when you felt the moisture of his tongue as the muscle slithered up your neck, essentially grooming you of the scent of another hybrid you had tended to earlier that day.

Ran set the blow-dryer on the counter as he stood from the seat. “Damn, Rin. You just gonna leave me out?”

You yelped as the older brother's claws snatched your jaw up, forcing you to face the ceiling as his face dipped low from the side, wedging himself between the counter and your thigh.

Heat rushed through your body as your other hand grabbed Ran's shoulder in reflex. Despite using your strength to push them away, they were like stone walls.

It was late when you had entered their cage to check their vitals.

The other hybrids had you backed up as you completed all of your assignments the best you could in a timely manner. You approached with careful steps so as to not wake either of the sleeping men.

Once you knelt next to the older male, you reached for his wrist, only to be surprised when an arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you onto the futon.

His warmth pressed against your back as he wrapped his tail lazily around your thigh, his arm holding you in place as he curled against you.

“Ran!” you whispered sharply, attempting to twist out of his grip.

“Just lay with me for a bit,” he said, his voice drowsy with sleep as he nuzzled against your neck.

Despite the logical part of your mind screaming at you to leave, you hesitated and figured that staying for a moment longer couldn’t hurt, as long as he fell asleep.

Time passed before you finally heard his breathing even out, allowing you to ease out of his grip.

You ignored the cold of your back from his absence as you kept your head straight toward the exit of the cage.

Three days had passed since you last stepped into their cage. You had switched assignments with another caregiver, distancing yourself from the Haitani brothers in a way that felt both suffocating and necessary. You had allowed a line to be crossed that should've never been breached.

It was going smoothly—or so you thought. You hadn't heard anything from or about them. You forced yourself not to worry about how they were doing or how they felt about your absence.

In the midst of beginning your shift, your boss, who had first introduced you to the Haitani hybrids, yanked you to a stop as you walked toward the designated hybrid room for the occupants you had been tending to recently.

“You—,” He exhaled sharply, sweat streaming from his forehead and soaking through his shirt. “Come with me. Now.”

“What?” you questioned, confusion knitting your brows as concern crept in at his antsy behavior.

The man gripped your wrist, dragging you down the familiar path toward the Haitani brothers' room. Before you could question him again, he threw the door open and pulled you inside.

Your eyes widened at the display.

Blood was everywhere.

The cage door was locked, yet inside, the floor was slick with crimson.

The scent of torn flesh thickened the air as your gaze landed on the scattered human remains—entrails and half-eaten limbs strewn across the cage and spilling just beyond the bars onto the wooden floor.

Bile threatened to rise in your throat as you lifted an arm over your mouth, leaning forward slightly before your gaze shifted to the hybrids inside.

Rindou sat on the futon with his knees raised, arms draped over them, his head bowed low. Despite his face being hidden, you could tell he was tense by the thrashing of his tail and the way his claws flexed against his arm. The skin visible to you was streaked with blood.

Ran stood at the bars, forehead resting against the cold metal, his hair partially veiling his face, claws curled around the bars. You caught the glint of his irises through the strands—dark, heavy-lidded, unreadable. His body and face bore the same smears of blood. His tail hung low, his ears flattened against his head.

The middle-aged man shifted nervously beside you. “They won't talk to anyone. They haven't even moved from their spots since we found them hours ago. They bonded with you, didn't they?”

You hesitated before giving a slow nod. Keeping your eyes on the floor, you stepped forward carefully, attempting to avoid the red puddles and strewn remains—though failing the closer you got to the bars.

You made sure not to get too close as you met Ran's gaze.

“Why have you been avoiding us?” His voice was calm, his expression stoic and dark as he looked down at you.

“Have you abandoned us?”

The words alone sent a chill up your spine, dread coiling in your stomach at the mess you had created by getting too close to them.

Someone innocent had died because of your mistakes.

The air in the bathroom was thick with steam and tension from the moments before. You carefully scrubbed Rin's arm, his skin still streaked with traces of blood. Both brothers sat silently in the bathtub, their expressions unreadable and dark. Their wet hair hung over their faces, dripping with water that trickled down their features.

“I... I'm sorry for not staying as professional as I should've,” you said softly, your voice strained with the tension. “And for leaving without saying anything.”

Rindou's jaw tightened, his body barely moving as his fingers curled against the edge of the tub.

His calm expression flickered with irritation. His tone was rough, but controlled. “You don't get it, do you?”

You were caught off guard as his claws snatched your wrist, pulling you forward with your arm stretched out. He leaned closer, eyes boring into yours. “You're an idiot. This is about you leaving us. Abandoning us for other hybrids while we waited for you to come back.”

Your heart started to pound against your chest as you tried to yank your arm out of his painful grip. “You're misunderstanding the situation! You shouldn't be so fucking attached to me. You're gonna be sold today! This isn't appropriate-!”

Ran's hand snatched the back of your neck, forcing you to face him. Moisture from the bath water dripped down your skin. “You think we give a fuck about what's appropriate?”

Suddenly, he threw you back, and you landed harshly on the floor. You watched with wide eyes as they stood up from the tub, water streaming down their bodies, their wet ears and tails flicking the moisture off as they took a step forward.

You scooted back gradually as they walked toward you, staring down at you with cold gazes.

“I think you've got this shit all wrong, Y/n.” Rin's voice was low and predatory as their tails thrashed around, ears flat against their heads.

It was traumatic.

The entire auction house erupted into a bloody massacre. With their claws extended, fangs as sharp as daggers, and bodies bare of any clothing, they mauled and shredded apart all of the employees, audience members, and hybrids that they smelled on you. One by one, the people who had been part of the illegal auction were maimed, killed, and toyed with—entrails and body parts scattered around the room.

The bodies piled up, but they didn't care.

Despite their calm demeanor and stoic gazes, a smirk or two here and there, they were feral. You could see it in their eyes—they absolutely enjoyed shredding everyone apart. The carnage lasted for at least an hour, though you hadn't kept track of the time. You were too distracted by the bloodshed playing out in front of you.

You even freed some of the hybrids from their cages in the hopes of the innocents escaping.

You recognized the middle-aged man, your boss, in an unrecognizable pile of guts, torn flesh, and blood.

Eventually, the chaos ended. The cries and screams of terror had finally died down.

You sat with your knees drawn to your chest, too paralyzed to escape. You hoped they would finish you off like they had the others, considering the guilt that weighed heavily on you for all of this. Rin and Ran finally approached you, their faces and torsos streaked with crimson. Their eyes held an eerie calm, but there was a glint of amusement there.

“Y'know, we were gonna do this the day we were captured,” Rin muttered, a smirk curving his lips as he crossed his arms. “But we stayed for you. It was fun while it lasted, playing as strays in a cage and all.”

Tears streamed down your face as you looked up at them. It felt as if the control you had all along had been stolen away from you. All of your emotions burst out in a hysterical outburst, your weeping uncontrollable as you covered your face and bowed your head.

“I-I can't believe this..” you sobbed, your voice shaky.

Ran's claws gently, but firmly, pulled your wrist away from your face, forcing you to stand. His bloody thumb smeared crimson against your cheek as he wiped away your tears. “Cry all you want, sweetheart. We're not done with you, yet,” he smirked.

Ran dragged you with them as they made their way toward the exit, stepping over the corpses of the dead without a second glance. Their smug expressions didn't falter as they moved through the carnage. The air was thick with the stench of death, but they seemed unaffected, as though they had done this a thousand times before.

As they stepped outside, Rin pulled out a phone from one of the corpses, dialing a number while smearing blood against the screen.

The phone rang, and you could only watch, too overwhelmed to react, as they spoke to their friend. The brutality they'd shown was nothing more than a prelude to what they had planned next.

“Done playing pretend?” The voice on the other end spoke with a condescending tone.

“Yeah. Just get Kaku to pick us up, Koko.” Rin's voice was smooth.

It had been weeks since the incident. You were deemed one of the unidentified victims—nothing but an unrecognizable pile of flesh and guts.

That day still haunted you, the memories of the chaos, screams, torn flesh. The smell of death was the worst of it.

Now, you sat between the two hybrids in the large bathtub. Your back rests against Ran's chest, his hands holding your breasts apart as Rin, sitting in front of you with your legs over his raised thighs, slides a wet cloth against the middle of your chest.

"Relax," Ran breathed as you felt his hard cock press against your lower back. Understanding what he meant, you tilted your head back against his chest, tilting to the side enough for his lips to press against your neck. His fangs nip your skin, causing you to shudder as Rin continues his motion against your skin.

Rin's hand moved lower, slowly disappearing under the sudsy water as he released the cloth, a sudden pressure of his finger meeting your clit. He leaned forward, lips parted as they pressed against yours in a slow, passionate kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth.

[transit-fag]

Hello. I recently visited your presumably fine city, and I have to say, I did not enjoy myself.

I am reminded of a quote from AA (non active): "Principles before personalities."

Seems everywhere I went I was harassed, discriminated against, belittled, kicked out, yes sexually harassed, etc, apparently based on the characteristics of my physical appearance, as I gave no indication of political creed, religious affiliation, life philosophy, personal history, or otherwise. Like come on guys, my fashion sense is not THAT bad.

For example, a barista I interacted with saw fit to yell "no" in my face as I was attempting to order. Like fine, if you feel the need to publicly and preemptively cock block me by loudly stating your negative sexual preference towards my person, and thereby impress friends and bystanders, while letting that fella or lady you truly are smitten with know just how loyal a girl you really can be... I can't stop you. I'm sure they're great. I'm just trying to get some coffee.

Ok ok ok, so now, you (the reader) share a knowing look with the apparently psychic iindividual who tells you what to think and how to act (they obviously know about these things), who then makes a simple gesture accusing me of pedophilia and boom. Game, set, and match. It's over. Why even continue reading?

Not that either you believe what you are saying, but who gives a fuck at this point right? It's just that the look on both your faces reminds me of a smug version of the look my dog gets when he is licking his own butt.

Funny story-up until recently, I worked with an actual convicted child rapist. The genuine article. And let me tell you, he was having a fucking field day with this shit. It's ok, get it all out buddy. That's fine right? He's a part of the movement, and everyone gets something. Well, almost everyone lol;) ;)

Yes sir, it's a real pander fest out there. At an intersection, there is an environmentalist guy and a guy with the unnecessarily large and noisy truck. Given our recent political decision making process, you would think they would be staring daggers, yelling, celebratory coal rolling, etc. No absolutely not. Dudes are falling all over themselves in a mad scramble of trans political endearment. It's so simple!! All we have to do is find the one guy in society who isn't a completely gullible dumbfuck and shit all over him and poof. All problems resolved. Transgressions forgiven. A new age.

I mean, it is somewhat interesting how each of you has an individually unique rationalization for the exact same , identical patterns of hateful and abusive behavior. The tree hugger and the coal roller. Beautiful snowflakes all.

Just kidding, it's actually really easy to just place you in a cliched typology and reverse engineer your justification for participating in fascism lite (tm) based on a presumable self conception. I don't really give a fuck what lies you tell yourself in the mirror. But as your Bob Dylan said, it ain't me babe.

Point being, having superceded the political, as well as all conventional rules of civilized conduct, and or general local culture in your fair city, The Movement (tm) (ha) or whatever the fuck you call it, is the dominant social reality and governing social principle.

AND YOU CANNOT TALK ABOUT IT

Which is fine. You do you. But please cease to labor under the illusion that you still have any translatable values, of any kind, whatsoever. It's not that open harassment or discrimination or whatever, particularly when perpetrated by a group of people in a position of social power, is wrong, per se, right? I mean, it would be interesting to hear any of you attempt to justify yourselves, but unfortunately YOU CANNOT TALK ABOUT IT. It is forbidden. I get it. Its like fight club. That's fair. White guys have made some pretty decent movies.

Let's say you dropped $100k on a liberal arts degree. Here's a chance to exercise some critical thinking in the face of a mass social movement founded on cruelty and open hatred, which is kind of the basic purpose of such a degree. Nope. Let's say it was history. What does this say about your chosen field of study? Hide all evidence right? Or sociology. Beyond your purview. Philosophy. When in Rome? Congratulations.

A lot I could say, but, regarding the preposterous idea that this is jall ust a some organic, spontaneously occurring culture phenomenon (rationalization received from a Christian): 1. Easily forensically disprovable, I'm not even particularly well studied and I know exactly who your master is, where they work, and why, and 2. Shockingly naive, given the power dynamics of the situation, sorry no way are your overlords leaving that kind of money on the table.

I don't really feel like elaborating further other than to say that because you are unable to speak or "go back and forth with me", whatever it is that you are participating in is, on its face, complete bullshit, as you, by both structural and philosophical necessity, lack individual moral and intellectual agency, which is, in fact, and in spite of what you may believe (ask your benevolent dictator), the root of all collective historical human failure. As well as the principle rationale for a liberal arts education. But fuck it right?

So, you spent 100k on education, only to turn around and will yourself into intellectual and moral slavery, and become the object of some corporate marketing psychologist's vanity project? May I wipe my ass with that diploma?

In closing, I don't want to go over the top here and start some kind of song of myself, oh no, but having been treated like human garbage, I feel compelled to state:

In terms of adverse personal experience, I soloed goddamn Annapurna in the snow season, lived to tell the tale, and this is the shit I come back to. You are all useful idiots and your behavior is an insult to the human condition.

Why me? Honestly, because out of everyone in at least the entire western United States apparently, you could literally put a gun to my head and I would not get on whatever bullshit from the literal church of corporate Satan you all are being spoon fed. Which I guess is some sort of crime.

On behalf of myself, humanity, Jesus, the Buddha, the better angels of our nature, all the great ones who came before, rock-'n'-roll, etc, Bellingham, YOUR SCENE SUCKS.

I will enjoy the cold comfort of inner freedom and a righteous cause while watching you abandon any semblance of a coherent value system and continue to lick fascist corporate ass for a bump of cocaine (which I don't think is very punk rock:( )

In solidarity, an actual, working, breathing, locally available, and highly DMable, high 7-ish, cultural dissident.

And, let the bad faith Cassandra treatment begin.

(Unless you are feeling spry big fella. Wanna earn some points???)

UPDATE: You guys, you guys wait!!! I thought of a really good one. The hand gesture thing-that is soooo Hitler

Update to Update: WOW so many responses. I am not able to give each one the time and attention it deserves, so here I will make a brief general reply before sharing something (indeed) very special with everyone.

Briefly perusing these responses, they seemed mostly attempts and bad faith gaslighting (as predicted) along with a sprinkling of salty literary criticism. I, at least, personally, found the gaslighting amusing, because I said you would do it, and you still did it anyway. Lol.

But really, everyone here, myself included, knows that besides "though shalt not speak," like the second rule in the playbook (which apparently descended from Shiva on a ray of light or some shit) is "Just keep doing it," so really this discussion is basically pointless, other than to point out that based on your actions, you are now complicit in an ongoing attempt to manufacture a historical falsehood about our society as it exists today, which, to me, is somewhat mind-blowing and honestly something of a privilege to witness firsthand. Now on to the important stuff.

Driving home today, listening to some predictably tinny, cacaphonous, and emotionally shallow corporate music, it occurred to me: When all this first I was actually pretty afraid. I remember first commenting on this pattern of organized behavior I got so scared I had like a four day flashback, you know the terrors, worries that someone was going come kidnap me and bury me alive somewhere because the shit I talked was so unprecedentedly nasty there was no way it could be allowed to stand, etc.(Which honestly is a pretty scary thought, because just based on the responses I received here it is clear that no one is gonna come looking). But you know, this went on, and the ol shoe never dropped.

I could only speculate that I must have been the subject of some kind of Job-like wager, to see whether I could walk the razors edge between hysteria, due to the gaslighting, on the one hand, and some form of violence, due to the anger at the abusive treatment, on the other. And it went on, and on, and on.

Today I realized that due to recent developments, and in small part because of this post, the terms of the wager have changed (which is good, because turns out, I can do this shit indefinitely, but where's the fun in that?). I am no longer the subject of this wager. No, I am now a party to it.

So, what or who (you may ask), is now then the new subject? What is the nature of this new wager?

The subject, my friends, is you. My fellow citizens. The unwashed (stereotype) masses. The people of Bellingham. The human race.

And what is in question? I guess on my side would be what is known as traditional humanism. Although I am no paragon and did not choose this, this tradition would generally focus on the value of things like honesty, courage, dignity, perseverance, kindness, love etc. which in my opinion are inescapable, and due to my own experiences with hardship, indispensable, and woe be to him who has not felt that light touch some corner of his immortal soul.

The counterargument (I suppose) could (for my purposes) be described as anti-humanist, at least in the traditional sense. I believe that this position holds that the idealization of these traditional virtues breeds discontent and indeed mass violence and war, as humans are inherently somewhat petty, cruel, violent, etc, Overly harmonious, idealized group identities simply displace(?) sublimate (?) (my bad) these tendencies outward, in the form of group based hatred and violence.

Relevant questions: Realistically, are humans capable of self government? Are ideals good? Is the project of the enlightenment practical or desirable?

I would argue that life is basically not worth living in the anti-humanist society, as well as point out that in the more moderate "European" view, this is why we have things like rock climbing or whatever other stupid shit you guys do. Traditional forms of collective action are still necessary, and you can't solve many problems "herding cats."

To some extent this is a matter of taste, but I guess the real question is whether your corporate overlords can succeed in birthing the anti-humanist society and ,indeed, become bigger than Jesus.

You guys aren't helping my case much, but regardless this is the fundamental reality of what is happening right here, right now, plain as day.

I'll end with a plea for collegiately, as I have presented the arguments collegially, mainly out of fear for my personal safety, although we both know, if one thing is true about people from my tradition, it's that we fucking LOVE to party.

The ball is obviously not in my court, as I am alone here in a literal sea of sycophantic assholes, with nothing to defend myself but my rapacious wit, endearing humor, and roguish good looks.

It is ironic though. Me, an actual pariah, and the girl who has it all, arguing across each other. Like, I cannot fucking BELIEVE I am defending you people.

[happyheidi]

Hello love. I felt the need to tell you this.

For the longest time I’ve been following you and I thought you were another one of those bot run accounts that have a massive following and occasionally post ads and whatnot. You know the ones.

But then I saw your tags on some posts and it just… made me smile. And I don’t know why it never crossed my mind before. That behind one of my favorite blogs of all time is a beautiful human being. But now every time I see your posts on my dash I look forward to seeing your little comment in the tags.

Anyways, all this to say you bring me lots of joy. Please keep doing what you’re doing. 🩷🌷✨🌱

“accounts that have a massive following and occasionally post ads and whatnot. You know the ones.” Funny you should mention that because I remember I got contacted by one of them and at the time I was crazy broke and had vet bills up to my neck so I thought ok I’ll try it out. So, I got some “merch” from them and bought some myself to see if it was what they said it was (this was many years ago and another blog than this + I wanted to make sure my followers weren’t getting tricked or anything) and after the ages it took for me to get the items I wasn’t impressed .. I lost lots of followers (bcus of all the ads I had to post - ugh I hated the repetition) and I actually care about my blog and how it looks to people - and myself - so I said to the person, I can’t do this anymore. She said “no one has complained etc”. But I’m a real person who cares about the blog so it was a short “collaboration”. I thought It really took away from my cottage aesthetic.. being all capitalism-YAY.. lol Anyway, I’m rambling.. just wanted to tell that story.

I’ve gotten this type of message before and to me it’s the best compliment ever! Thank you so so much! I haven’t paid attention to this blog as much as I did before.. yk because life, but I’m very happy to hear that! Thank u so much for taking the time to cheer a girl up <3 ur awesome!

A rose, for you 🌹

[glorioustidalwavedefendor]

there are never people with glasses in apocalypse media

I wouldn't say never ...

But yeah ... not very often

I don't care because I am more a fantasy and a bit of period piece kind of person and there no one wears glasses as well ... (yes sometimes in period pieces but usually only side characters so you know that they are supposed to be undesirable ... )

So I am used to getting no representation ...

(the doctor never travelled with anyone that need sglasses or is really shit at running ... yeah yeah we had one dude with dispraxia .. but that came up exactly once and never again becasue it was a hindrance to the story structure ... )

But yeah, I would have issues if the glorious revolution ever comes ... so I guess not having people with glasses is accurat?

We'd just die .. or be blind for most intends and purposes, so we don't get to have an adventure ... we have to sit at home and have other people be our eyes ...

Actually, distantly related topic XD

There are middleage events where whole cities prticipate and all is historically accurat includingteh food (so no tomatoes, potatoes, popcorn, chocolate, cigaretts etc ... ) But that also measn no modern wheelchairs, no glasses, no hearing aids etc ...

And I am kind a split

Becasue on teh one hand it measn I would not be allowed to participate if was ever to live in a city like that

-> I mean I can go and watch, but I can't get a costume and be part of the ... "cast" ... becasue I refuse to wear contacts ...

On teh other hand, they are going for 100% accurat (not like a renfair ... like actuall historicall accuracy) and they have invested a lot of money -> If you partcipate you get a costume for free including shoes, thats thousands and thousands of bucks ...

The whole point is to crate the illusion of having travelled back in time And modern accomodations would brake teh suspension of disbelieve ...

SO yeah ... I am of two midns on this ... aesthtics vs inclusion ...

[immortalmrwavell]

Gym Tradition

(Original story posted October 8th 2022) Exactly as it was

This story was inspired by a prompt given to me by @tf-lover

I stepped towards the shower with an excitement bubbling in my chest. I could already hear his heavy footsteps behind me. This was always my favourite part. The sound of a towel being tossed to the side was drowned out as I twisted the shower handle. Within seconds warm water was cascading down my body, relaxing me for what was to come.

My body shuddered a little as a pair of large hands slid around my waist from behind. Looking down I grinned. I already had a pretty good idea who he’d taken over for me. There weren't many men at the gym today with such large dark skinned hands and there was one in particular I knew he’d had his eye on.

“Is that Mike?” I muttered just as the man pressed himself against my back, his semi-hard cock already feeling huge as it rubbed against my ass and lower back.

“Mhmm” He replied simply as his hands roamed my body. “I know we’ve used him before but he just looked so damn sexy today. When I saw him getting undressed I just couldn’t help myself.”

My boyfriend Eric and I have had this little tradition for a while now. Whenever the two of us go to the gym together, we’ll always scout out the other men at the gym. Size them up, inspect their bodies from afar, etc. Then once we’re finished, one of us will wait around in the locker room for one of those men to come through looking all hot and sweaty from his workout. And then, when nobody is looking, we’ll steal that guy’s body by jumping inside and possessing him! This time it was Eric’s turn to surprise me and he certainly didn’t disappoint.

“No need to apologise.” I smirked as I turned my head slightly and looked up to see none other than Mike, one of the local hunks that frequented the gym. “You wear his body so fuckin well.” I felt his cock twitch and harden a bit more as I said that while a cocky grin spread across his face.

The two of us shared a short but sweet kiss before he turned me back around and pressed me against the shower wall. “Oh I know. Why do you think I always get us to come to the gym on days that he’s around?” He chuckled but before I could respond he swiftly plunged his thick black cock inside me.

The shower continued to rain down on both of us though it did little to mask the groans. I’m always surprised at how no other men seem to walk in on us when we do this. I suppose they probably know better when they start to hear that lewd slapping noise of heavy balls smacking against an ass. Sometimes those balls were mine like yesterday when I took over another hunk, Dane, and went to town on Eric’s ass. But now it was Eric’s turn and he wasn’t holding anything back!

‘Mike’ slammed his massive rod into me relentlessly, holding onto my hips as he did to make sure he went as deep as possible. His hungry assault didn’t let up even for a second. Only growing more furious by the moment as he slammed against my prostate again and again. I could see why he liked this body so much, it’s stamina was insane! I’d already shot my load from his pounding alone!

Despite that though I was still just as hungry as he was. Hungry for his cock. Hungry for his load. And boy did he deliver. A loud, manly roar echoed through the shower room and probably the locker rooms as well as ‘Mike’ began draining his balls. His fat cock pumping me with load after load of thick cum, filling me up to the brim.

“Fuuuuuck Eric… that was amazing…” I muttered as he wrapped his arms around me again.

“Who’s Eric?” He grinned. “The only one here is Mike” He shifted his cock around inside me causing me to grunt a little. With that he leaned down against my ear and whispered. “Maybe we should find a way to make these possessions a bit more… permanent.”

[fandomobbsessedb]

Two Daddies, Two Daddies

(Gi-Hun + In-ho) X daughter Reader

Summary: You’ve got two daddies, they both love you unconditionally and they both want what’s best for you…. Even if it undermines the other.

• Ever since you came into their lives, whether by adoption, or surrogacy, genetic mutation, WHATEVER. You are their pride and joy. Everything they do, use to be driven by survival instincts, but now, everything they do is for their little princess 👑

•When you were just a little thing Gi-hun dotted on you the most. You were stuck to him like glue. He didn’t care if it made him look girly he wore that damn baby chest carrier thing everywhere. In the car he sat in the back with you keeping you entertained while In-ho drove.

When he drove, I should say, otherwise he was back there making you two follow standard driving laws…. Like how you had to be in a car seat….. and Gi-hun currently had you in his lap….. while he was unbuckled. He had to get you out of this pink onesie! He could see you were uncomfortable and just had to change you so you would be happy! He needs his baby happy.

• In-ho on the other hand did a lot of the more calculated baby stuff. Scheduling your doctor appointments, watching what times you ate exactly at, how much you ate etc. They would switch off whose turn it would be to give you a bath or read to you or put you to sleep.

• If In-ho couldn’t give you his full attention while he did something than that something wasn’t important enough to deem his precious shared attention. You where his everything all the time.

•Inside your shared living space on the island where the only people you would ever need in your life. Appa and Papa. Nothing else in the outside world ever bothered them or you.

• GI-hun was always the parent you went to first. Didn’t matter if he was using the bathroom or trying to eat, he was choice #1. Then would be In-ho. Kinda like a mom and dad dynamic.

• Appa does the silly voices with your bedtime stories maybe even some finger puppets. Meanwhile Papa prefers to cuddle you to sleep, or to brush out your hair, he just helps you calm down by before a more consistent and constant presence. So while Gi-hun is making a show out of showing you how the princess defeated the witch, In-Ho is keeping you in bed, and gently petting your hair and covering your ears when Gi-hun gets a lil too loud.

• Gi-hun wasn’t able to give his first daughter everything she ever wanted, then again, he felt he wasn’t given a fair chance to try and raise her. So with you, he’s doing his best to not spoil the absolute hell out of you while still remaining a bit strict.

• He gives you basic ass household chores and pretty low standards for grades, even though you still excel, and he raised you to be good, so you’re pretty much always on your best behavior. That being said your allowance and earnings are at least x10 that of a normal kid.

• Your classmate got $20 once for doing all the dirty dishes and they acted like they were on top of the world. In your own mind however you were a bit class blind by that. You were so confused why they were only given $20.

• Because of his view on society In-ho doesn’t view your people as “friends”. He see’s them just like the rest of the world and in his mind has made up that your the leader of your little friend group just like how he’s the boss of his workers. So if he were to take you out of that school or daycare he wouldn’t see it as much of a problem.

• Where Gi-hun lacks in restraint and uncertainty, In-ho makes up for it in sterner parenting and guidance.

• One night they’re at the dinner table discussing what to get you for getting straight A’s this last semester. Gi-hun suggests a relaxing vacation, somewhere simple and close to home in Korea. In-Ho immediately over rides that decision and is already purchasing tickets to the Caribbean under the table. First class with a spa and snacks and all your favorite sweets. Ya know what fuck it, he doesn’t want to deal with people right now, we’ll just take the private jet. So what if it belongs to the “squid games” company name, he owns the games.

Scenario

Gi-hun had you by your upper arm pulling you into the apartment, your Papa sat on his chair watching the current games as the two of you stormed in.

“Do you have any idea what she just did?” Gi-hun will question his partner looking as In-Ho sighed and opened his texts to see what you undoubtedly texted your more lenient parent.

“She kicked that bully at her game.” He affirmed without looking up.

“She KICKED the bully AT HER GAME.” He loudly stated. In-ho titled just his eyes up to meet the taller man’s.

“So?” He shrugged. Gi-hun just stood there gapping his mouth like a fish.

“It wasn’t even with the game it was off to the side when the ball rolled out of bounds!” He angrily declared. You just looked exasperated between to two of them before bowing your head to apologize.

“I’m sorry Papa, I’m sorry Appa. I shouldn’t have kicked her” you stood straight again keeping your head down waiting for your father’s understanding punishment.

“Forgiven, go change out of that sweaty gear and get ready for dinner.” In-ho calmly stated, walking over the place a kiss on the top of your head before making his way back to his chair. With a small smile you turned and quickly slipped away before Gi-hun could duel out his own punishment. From the background you could hear them still going.

“She wouldn’t resort to physical violence if someone is upsetting her.” Gi-hun angrily spoke out.

“Mhm” In-ho simply nodded his head before making his own point, “how many other parents complain to you as well about that other kid? Hm? We should be grateful the ONLY thing she did was kick them.” He replied coming to your defense making you cheer internally before he spoke up again.

“If you want to punish her so bad for getting physical with another kid don’t let her go to the next game, her attitude may change but the kid won’t.” He sternly replied heading towards their shared room to fix his own appearance before you all sat down to eat.

• When you start puberty they don’t touch that with a 39 and a half foot pole. Not because they don’t love you. They still do everything the same for you…. GI-hun just brings his friend Sae-Byeok into the picture.

• It’s like the Wild West in the apartment. Her on one side, you on the other, your dads standing in the middle out of the way. Normally they just handed you both a wad of cash and let you go out to do whatever it is you needed to do but this time she said she only had a few minutes and would just stop in.

“Catch” she nonchalantly told you, grabbing the bag from the air you opened it and saw a few different types of…. What is this exactly?

“Deodorant, you stink kid, your bodies maturing and this is just one of the first things.” She shrugs, walking out of the building. The two gays in the corner clutch to eachother in worry at your reaction as you delicately held the bars like they were poison. Within a few sniffs you were taking it to your room contently at your favorite smells.

• Your their favorite person and their your favorite people. Just because you didn’t grow up with a mother figure doesn’t mean you’re not well balanced. They both take adequate care of themselves and you.

<3

AN: Thanks for reading! I’m not sure how accurate this is so if I come up with more ideas I’ll just add em on.

Stayed Tuned!

~ FandomObbsessedB

[prettycottonmouthlamia]

Oh boy there is so much here and I'd absolutely love a crack at explaining it. "What is weird about cats in Arknights?" a lot actually, and honestly, it's what is weird about every animal in Arknights.

So, yes, first of all, you have the "Feline" race, which broadly includes every cat person in the game, with the exception of lion people, who are categorized under Aslan instead. These aren't actually super important to our discussion immediately, so I'm going to gloss over them for right now. Point is, lots of people are cat people in this world, and this isn't given much pause.

That, at minimum, though, is a little weird. People on Terra don't seem to know that "cats" exist for the most part. There are a few people in particular that are important to our discussions here: first is Mousse, who has a bunch of friends she calls "kitties" but whom don't seem to be creatures known to the wide world; second is Haze, who has a major interest in "kitties", but these being BOTH the normal cat looking varieties AND Felines; and Phantom, who is a feline that is followed around by a two-tailed cat named Ms. Christine.

Ms. Christine gives us our first clue into all of this. Haze has a lot of respect for her, and Ms. Christine seems to just randomly appear in places following Phantom. What's more, the implication is that Ms. Christine won't show herself without her consent. If she doesn't want you to find her, you won't. While this might just seem like your average cat behavior, this is actually a common trait about the various Beast Lords in the game. Dolly, the Beast Lord for Sheep, can also make it so he is not visible to people if he so wishes, with one exception (Kal'tsit).

Ms. Christine hasn't talked at all, so we don't specifically need to know what her deal is. We do know that she is trying to keep Phantom away from the Crimson Troupe, the wandering assassination theater group who raised and groomed him from when he was a young orphan, and given that she can freely walk amongst the troop's castle in Calais, it's at least clear she's not ordinary.

What about Mousse's kitties? We don't know! They do seem to have some degree of deliberate intelligence to them, but they might simply be normal cats. The point here is that the others don't know what they are, so it's possible they could be Beast Lords too.

What IS interesting is that, according to Dolly, Beast Lords and their modern races originate from the same source. Beast Lords are _probably_ manifestations of animals that resulted after the first Catastrophes brought Originium to the surface worldwide, and from that point, the Beast Lords were born and the other animals began their evolutionary divergence (because remember: this is not a people becoming animals story, it's an animals becoming people story!).

There are also cloudbeasts, or at least at minimum, cloudbeasts are similar enough in shape to cat and dogs that the people of Terra don't find Mio or Woof to be particularly strange (Mio and Woof being Beast Lords themselves). Terra does seem to have its own unique versions of many animals we would know: fowlbeasts for birds, burdenbeasts for large herbivores etc. But on Terra, by and large (depending on what is happening with Mousse), it lacks the animals that we would expect in our world, as they either became Beast Lords or turned into animal people.

(For example, there is a Hound type enemy in the game, but they're actually some kind of fragment of a dog-like Beast Lord in Bolivar. This is only explained in the CN only lorebook because Hypergryph hates me in particular.)

This covers almost everything there is to say about cats in Arknights, with one exception: Kal'tsit. The like immortal green cat girl of the setting. Her conversation with Nezzsalem, the almost as immortal leader of the Nachzehrer, indicates that she seemingly was not always a cat girl, and we know that she is actually an artificial creation from the Precursor Civilization to Terra that brought both the original animals and Originium to the moon. So what is Kal'tsit, if she were not always a cat girl?

We don't know! My theory is that Mont3r, her companion, is in some way a "larval" form of Kal'tsit, given that it is sentient and that Kal'tsit seems to trust it to do the right thing when she passes. Curious!

Anyways yeah. Cats are weird in Arknights.

Arknights could pull off an event about a young witch searching for her lost cat in the alps. In fact it’d actually be super hype considering how weird cats are in lore

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! Do you have any advice on how to handle an inherently fictional facial difference (that was caused by a fictional reason and while may have some partial crossover/parallels with elements of real world FDs, ultimately is a fictional one and is specific to the world/lore) in a way that would not come off as harmful to real facial differences? I also have some characters with actual real life FDs in the story, but maybe there's something else I should consider?

Also, what is your opinion on fictional disabilities in general? Not when the story just has a vague disability that can't be strongly connected to anything specific from real life, but when author specifically develops a fictional condition/disability/chronic disease etc in context of/based on elements of their fictional world?

Hello!

A fictional facial difference has basically the same potential pitfalls as any other fictional disability. You can take a look at this post where we talked about what not to do, TLDR: make sure it's actually a fictional disability and not just one you haven't heard of yet and be mindful of what real conditions it could be reminiscent of (and avoid stereotypes accordingly).

It's good that you also have characters with actually existing disabilities, it honestly annoys me to no end when people boast about their "disability rep" while all they have is 20 different "magic character can't do magic" characters. So this is definitely a big plus.

The only thing you need to keep in mind is to not split the two (character with fictional FD vs characters with IRL FD) into separate categories, consciously or not. Don't treat the one with a made-up FD as better or as inherently prettier than "those other people". Ideally they're all just treated the same in the story since that's the only option that makes logical sense.

Also, it was mentioned already in the post I linked, but unless you have some very specific scenario you purposefully want to do and actually comment on, avoid making the cause of her FD either 1) result of her parents doing Evil Drugs or black magic or whatever or 2), contagious. Very little FDs have those origins, but many are stereotyped or downright accused of being such.

Other than that, think of the same stuff as you would with IRL facial differences existing in a story. How does society treat them? What is the acceptance level? Are the majority of people knowledgeable (a person can know exactly nothing about being disabled and still be kind and accepting; it's not exclusive)? Are FDs more common because medicine is less advanced?

For the last question; it depends. If it has symptoms that real people have, there are gonna be real people who will relate to it (if done well) and real people who might be offended by how it's portrayed (if done badly).

Let's say your setting has a magic toxic flower that causes lower limb paralysis and/or weakness after someone steps on it - that's fictional, but there are many real world disabilities that share similar symptoms, even if the cause is obviously very different. If this was the fictional disability, the characters who have it would probably share the same community as characters with SCI, neuropathy, MS, etc.; it's based in fantasy but it's easy to imagine that it could be real.

In this context you should be researching the symptoms - leg paralysis and weakness - and potential treatments - physical therapy, learning how to walk with orthoses/crutches, painkillers, etc. Real readers with real symptoms will be able to relate to this kind of fantasy disability.

But let's say the fictional disability mainly presents as chronic pain and muscle spasms caused by the person not using magic enough. This on the other hand, doesn't work as a (respectful) fantasy disability. The main "accusation" people with chronic pain get is that we are lazy and if we just did more of [usually exercise] we would be cured - it doesn't work like that, and it would be frankly offensive to make a whole illness where the chronic pain is caused by someone not waving their wand enough or whatever. No one will be relating to this because it's not based on how stuff works, it's based on a stereotype. "It's fantasy" isn't a get out of jail free card, you still have to be conscious of what you are implying.

As long as you do research and keep in mind which real things your fantasy disabilities resemble (e.g. Hansen's disease and ALS will have very different stereotypes attached to them) so you can avoid making a connection you don't want to make.

Hope this helps,

mod Sasza

[mgu-h]

What are your top 3 moments of Max and Lando from 2024? A little late, but I’m quite curious lol

Or in general, what are your favorite moments of them of all time?

my chronological study is not yet caught up, so i can't really do 2024 justice, but i've covered a lot of ground from 2013 to early 2023, and there's just so many things that stand out!!! not just moments but like.. idk. whole parts of their lives. i'll check some dates {edit: and add 20 gifs and a video}, but otherwise, off the dome, my favorite moments lmao let's do this:

max's story about seeing lando driving his kart at 9yrs old, the small details about the location and lando's helmet that he remembered, the fondness in his tone of voice as he talked about it, and calling himself a day one fanboy of lando

there's this old old post on max's insta where he's just starting out, with lando commenting on it in a supportive or teasing way... just seeing how long they've been friends, all the footage of them karting, sharing podiums, and goofing off in tiny race suits together, it's not one moment that i love but the pool of shared experiences and competition

jumping forward in time a bit, that time max said that lando had taken care of him after he stopped racing and wasn't sure what to do, it's just important to me that max showed up just playing on lando's twitch first. lando opened up this whole path for him, ultimately hiring him, shaping the trajectory of the rest of his life

there's some deeply notable streaming early on in lando's house, a favorite being the absurd bathrobe tech support, with lando fresh out of the shower and all up in max's personal space. and then idk it's a small detail but there's times where max and lando are wearing the same glasses and i love that

i can't pick a favorite of the quadrant videos filmed in summer and fall 2021, there's so many deeply endearing and iconic moments, like the hot sauce video, the lie detector (big reaction), the pink 'how well do you know' video (max's absurdly fond tone of voice saying "useless" is my first memory of him, from years ago), the outtakes of the part of the elgato video where they kick niran out of their house

there's connor's august twitch stream from holiday with them all tipsy and topless and deeply tanned on a boat. lando hovering around max's back, making max smell his underarm when he complained. it reminds me of pics i saw of lando shirtless in a paddling pool which i assume were taken by max.

the way they were wearing each other's golf shirts on the course in that one fall golf stream, i think it was shortly after sochi. the whole recurring bit with them sharing a wardrobe, the "whose shoes are those?" "whose joggers are those? "whose hoodie is that?" bit, the fact that it kept going even after they moved apart

those key december 2021 streams, the loooong halo stream where chat called max both lando's dog and his wag. just the wild argument they had about max moving to monaco, with max saying lando'd get lonely, offering to be a house husband almost, and 'joking around' like 'he doesn't want me, we're done, etc..

then the sweet sad energy of the last stream in the house, where lando picks a fight about who's better at golf and uses his keyboard clicking to annoy max. for some reason i love this fight the most out of everything, i've listened to it dozens of times probably, i even transcribed it to see what the sentence length looked like before i started writing rpf. it's just like the perfect quintessence of their dynamic.

max showing up on the mclaren tiktok account in lando's hotel room in dubai the next month jan 2022, having gone on the trip with lando and his gf

quadrant leaving a small cardboard cutout of max in lando's office, after lando was a pest while max tried to plan the office remodel surprise for him. then lando using it to tease max, and lying about throwing it out, keeping it around, and still having it in 2025

the infamous and perfect moment in july where max covered up lando's head after the rally car passed by because lando fully didn't do it himself and max either saw that or knew that he wouldn't do it and that he needed to do it for him

lando being a dj on max's twitch, the sleepover vibes, the way they support him in his new hobby and validate him

max's 2022 singapore trip and the incredible tikok where lando answers the hotel door wearing the exact same clothes as max but in inverted colors, where he slaps max very hard on what looked like the inner thigh, where max bites his knuckle with nerves and is proud of lando's p4

[i've got the winter and spring content to go through in detail, i don't really know what happened here]

the march 2023 max twitch stream with lando in the blue hoodie (kitten, max smelling his underarm, lando losing his mind about a memory of max when he was drunk). i'm pretty sure in that stream, max's dad comes in and asks if lando is staying the night, in a way that communicates he's done it a hundred times before and is welcome to do it a hundred more

the april 2023 twitch streams where lando wanders around, laying with bare feet kicked up on the bed, massaging his back (each others' backs, max returns the favor), lint rolling himself. around this time P says on stream that max is lando's boyfriend, she also calls him his slave and labels what they share as an addiction(!!!)

i know they go to motogp together in the summer of this year, i remember the adorable almost kinda matching outfits. there's also that footage of max looking at lando asleep in that egg pod thing from around then too

[i don't really know yet if/what nortrell happened in late 2023]

then like, 2024, i have so much to catch up on, but i was aware of him by the end of the season. obviously the infamous post disaster races had that gentle parenting from max about eating and sleep while playing tarkov, which was lovely, and then the way max defended him at crucial parts of the season and like asked 'where's the backing' and got angry on his behalf was good too.

2025...... so much so far. the "you said my name so I know you're lying." the "stop fucking kissing her max and hurry the fuck up." connor's "his brother and his boyfriend" comment. the fact that i got jumpscared by max streaming from lando's office again. the pushups. watching the super bowl. just so much.

that was more than i expected to remember lmao anyway, nortrell rights

[fluffmonger]

So, in my experience growing up as a deeply curious child in an Evangelical (tm) church..... We *did* read the Bible, we had Sunday school, and Bible studies, all kinds of things. My church used the New International Version as a standard, which keeps some of the poetics of King James, but is a lot clearer and cleaner to read, more modern English. Reading the Bible wasn't the issue at hand.

What we weren't taught was how to interpret the Bible in Context, as a document that was written by historic humans in historic societies and cultures, across several hundred years. There's... Depending on the church, and pastor or Bible study, you may get some emphasis on the difference between the gospels and the letters, or a rundown of the "parts" of the old testament ... But that's usually it. There's no digging into it, and absolutely no questioning. There's very little, if any, acknowledgement that it is in fact, a bunch of separate texts all compiled by a small group of Christians, decades or more after the death of Jesus. To many Christians, I'd wager it feels like the Bible just appeared fully formed out of the air one day, as their holy book. And of course you can't question it, it's *the word of God* so it has to be correct and right, and if you question you're Doubting and not Having Faith (etc).

I hadn't connected the fact that many of the writings of Paul, and John the Revelator were done in the Reign of Emperor Nero until recently, when my classicist partner saw the dates and went "wait what". And if you know anything about Nero well..... Is it any wonder that Paul might have some Concerns about things like morality, and public display of faith and other things? And again! I'm someone who was asking questions and such, all the time, even back then. I was deeply nerdy about it and trying to read it like I read in English class. This made me..... Unpopular. And also felt kind of blasphemous? Like, I always felt odd about that approach while I was in the middle of it because it was *not* standard.

Likewise, a lot of the old testament gets written off as "a collection of stories" and treated more like.... Parables or fables?? Instead of a written collection of Jewish oral history about their history, laws, traditions, and culture. It's all set vaugely "in the past, in Bible times" without any rooting to real history or landscapes or cultures. And of course, because the Bible is all that matters, most Protestants and evangelicals don't think at all about any of the scholarship that goes back millennia on any part of it, the writings of Rabis and later on Christian scholars. The Bible as I was taught, wasn't a living document or a record, it wasn't something to be debated about or argued with, or even questioned, no matter how weird it outdated it seemed. It was *law*, ironclad, and to the claims of many, perfect as is (despite being a work in translation with a lot of nuance and no understanding of translators bias or how a translation should work).

It's.... Pretty fucking dire, and horrific, especially to me now, because the things I've learned about the time periods that the Bible is from? Are actually fascinating, and make it *so* much richer as a text! And then understanding the world of early Christianity, how it became what it is today, how those beliefs and practices became established.... Man, it's fascinating. But again, there's this culture of "Christianity has always been like this and will always be like this" that's very present in those spaces that make it really hard to gain sight of it all.

And... Of course at the end of the day.... The reason people like me didn't realize some of this, is because we weren't told. We werent given the tools to ask the questions we needed to. You can't explore what you don't even know exists, and when you're just told that we don't associate with "those people" and are discouraged from thinking about other faiths except to convert them..... Well.

So yeah. It's not (just) that people don't have reading comprehension.... It's also that they quite literally arent taught the context and origins of their faith for.... Reasons. Also, American Christianity has always just been... Very extreme. Probably bc of the puritans but hey.

Since posting that "how many mass graves and extinct cultures" post last month, I've had multiple Christians in the notes whining that there isn't a "specific instruction of belief that Christianity needs to wipe out every other religion in the world" in Christianity's teachings, and that it's all just The Church/King James/etc.

And every time, I point to the literal text of the passages of The Great Commission.

And nearly every time, that shuts them up; the only time it didn't, it was to engage in some disgusting semantical goalpost moving.

But it's like...

Why do Christians not know the content of their own texts? Is your faith really so tribalistic and totemic around the concept of "Jesus" that you all don't bother to actually read the religious texts?

It feels like it must be--I've heard of too many instances of Christians walking out of readings of The Sermon On The Mount because they think it's "liberal nonsense" and the like, but I just find it baffling and more than a little sad that I, a Jew, apparently knows the New Testament's text better than the people who swear by it and ostensibly believe and follow it.

[eempyreall]

This is the original request. This story is the original characters’ version.

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♪ 𝐵𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑦 𝐷𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝐶𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑛 ♪

༺ The Auction ༻

Oneshot ~ Hybrids x Female Reader

Summary ~ You work for an auction house that illegally sells exotic hybrids.

Featuring ~ Original Characters: Arlo & Felix

Extra Notes ~ This is the non fandom version of this story. If you want to read the Tokyo Revengers’ version, press this link.

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

Warning ~

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Despite your job as a maintenance caregiver for the hybrids, your morals do not match that of your role. It is your belief that, although hybrids are deemed monsters and creatures, they should be treated like any other human. However, the pay is undeniably convenient and quicker than any other regular career you could work for.

You never expected to get attached to any of the hybrids at the auction house. Your only job was to maintain their care before they were sold to the highest bidder. You had succeeded with your logical approach since you began working at the house a couple of years ago.

It wasn’t until two snow leopard hybrids appeared in a way that was hard to ignore.

“These are the new captures,” the gruff voice of the broad, middle-aged man states. “Clean ‘em up.” Your boss turns to leave the room as you examine the two men through the bars of the large cage.

The one on the left is tall, leaning against the cold metal wall with his arms lazily crossed over his chest. His long, dyed red hair drapes over his shoulders, a few loose strands framing his sharp jawline, smeared with dried blood. Crimson is also streaked down his fit torso, staining the large tattoo on his chest. A sly smirk spreads across his face as he eyes his extended claws.

His droopy, heavy-lidded purple eyes shift to yours, the weight of his gaze heavy despite the lighthearted expression on his face. His ears are perked as his tail sways slowly. If you look closely, you can even see the stained crimson on his black pants. You notice that he doesn’t look wounded, so you wonder where the blood came from.

Next to his standing figure is a man with similar features, sitting on the ground. One arm is draped over his raised knee while the other is planted on the bottom of the cage. His black hair is cut short at the sides but longer at his neck. His body has matching ink, though on the opposite side. Blood stains him just as much as the former.

His expression is indifferent, bored, as his heavy-lidded gaze sticks to the side, never meeting yours. His tail lies over the leg that’s flat on the ground, his claws extended as the dim light casts a glow over them.

Neither of them seem to be in pain. It makes you wonder what could’ve happened on their way here. If the older male had stayed, you would’ve asked so you’d know what to expect.

There are hybrids who are violent, indifferent, and scared. In your two years of working at the auction house, you’ve never come across anyone violent. You’re mainly consistent with those who are indifferent and scared. These guys don’t look scared. If anything, they look bored—but the blood says otherwise. It’s definitely not their own.

“You just gonna stand there and stare, or are you gonna clean us already?”

Your attention turns to the male sitting on the ground, whose eyes are now on you.

Day one was interesting, to say the least.

“You're handling me with such care, human~” the long-haired man drawled, the suds of the bath covering his lower half. His red hair drips with moisture as he watches you glide the cloth against the skin of his arm. “You like me or somethin'?”

You give him an unimpressed look as you release his wrist, tossing him the wet cloth before grabbing a clean one. “You can clean your own balls.”

The black-haired male snickered as you began to wash his back, while the older male whined, “Aww,” in response to your statement.

Once they were completely dried off and you had used the blow-dryer on their manes, you secured the collars around their necks and walked them to their new cage, their leashes in your hand.

They watched your figure as you walked in front of them, leading them to the cage, which had futons clean and ready for their temporary stay.

Once they were secured inside, you unhooked their leashes and locked the cage behind you.

The taller one leaned against the bars closest to you, his arms crossed above his head. “I wonder if you taste better than our lunch from earlier,” he said with a smirk.

You ignored him, suppressing the slight churn of your stomach so as not to give him the reaction he was looking for. It was best to pretend you hadn’t cared about what he said.

“Probably. That meal was ass,” the younger one stated as he relaxed on the futon.

You rolled your eyes and waved them off as you walked out.

When day two arrived, you entered the holding area in which the brothers were caged. The auction house was grand enough to have individual rooms, each holding at least two hybrids, secured behind bars.

The younger one sat on the futon, his back leaning against the back of the cage, arms draped over his bent knees as he idly flicked his tail. His black hair was slightly messier than before, and his sharp eyes followed your every movement.

The red-haired one stretched out across the futon, hands tucked comfortably behind his head as he cracked an eye open at your presence. His ears twitched, his tail flicking once before settling.

You unlocked the cage, stepping inside with ease. You didn’t say anything as you placed a tray of large raw fish inside.

“Room service, huh?” the older one smirked as he pushed himself up on his elbows.

You exhaled through your nose, unamused. “Eat.”

The following days became routinely consistent as you took care of the hybrids. You would arrive at their cage, feed them, monitor their vitals, bathe them, and feed them once more. Despite their playful behavior, you kept your responses short—yet somehow, they always found a way to pry a reaction out of you.

The older male, Arlo, had a habit of watching you too intently. He’d study your movements and expressions while lazily draping over the futon or leaning against the bars. Despite his laid-back persona, there was intent behind every word he chose, amusement reaching his expression as he smirked whenever your lips twitched at something he said. Although Felix was quieter, he was blunt, slicing through whatever wall you tried to keep between yourself and them.

They were different from the other hybrids brought to the auction house. They weren’t scared, angry, or hopeless—though you couldn’t blame the others for feeling that way. If anything, they seemed to enjoy their situation a bit too much, as if it were a game.

As time went on, you continued to do your job, but at some point, your indifference began to slip.

The first time you laughed, it caught you off guard.

It wasn’t intentional. Arlo had made some offhand comment—something absurd but delivered with such a straight face that you couldn’t help it. The sound barely left your lips before you caught it.

Arlo’s grin widened as Felix’s lips curved into a smirk. You rolled your eyes and turned away, shutting down and replacing the mask you hide your real personality behind. After that, they continued to try and get a rise out of you, their amusing behaviors becoming more frequent.

There were a couple more times that you failed to keep your composure, despite your better judgment. You’d even make a few sly remarks in return that would make them raise an eyebrow with an amused gaze, their ears perking up and tails upright with a curve at the tip.

Regardless, you still remained professional. You didn’t linger longer than necessary. You didn’t acknowledge the way Arlo’s eyes followed you when you walked away or how Felix’s tail would twitch whenever you got too close. You ignored the way their bodies would subtly lean in your direction when you bathed them or checked them over.

You even ignored that you were beginning to enjoy their presence. You knew it was best not to get attached—soon enough, you’d never see them again.

You stood in the bathroom after bathing the males, using the blow-dryer on Arlo’s hair as he sat on the wooden chair. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he crossed a leg over along with his arms. His tail was low under the towel that covered his lower body, though it twitched slightly when you guided the bristles of the brush through his mane. The leopard almost drifted off to sleep as you worked through his long strands.

Felix, on the other hand, stood off to the side, leaning against the door with his arms crossed.

A towel covered his lower half, but his tail thrashed slightly underneath. His posture was tense as he eyed you.

Suddenly, you felt a strong tug on the back collar of your top, yanking you back with a sharp force that caused you to drop the blow-dryer onto Arlo’s lap and the brush to hit the floor.

A gasp escaped your lips as Felix lifted you up, his claws gripping your thighs and hoisting you onto the sink. He wedged himself between your legs as his head dipped between your neck and shoulder. Your hands reached his shoulders as he caged you in, his towel dangerously low.

“What the fuck?” you questioned, startled by the sudden movement as you leaned back, holding onto him. His nose pressed into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm as he slowly nuzzled your skin, his hands caging you in on either side of your hips.

His tail flicked behind him as his lips barely dragged along the lining of your neck, your body frozen as you stared across the room with wide eyes.

“Felix…” Your voice came out softer than you had wanted it to, a chill crawling up your spine as your nails pierced his skin.

He pulled back, a sharp gaze meeting yours, irritation clear in his expression. His ears were slightly pinned back as his grip on the counter tightened.

“You reek of mutt.”

Your brows furrowed with confusion as you pushed him back further, though he stayed in place.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He ignored you as his head dipped low again, a hand reaching up as he brushed against your jawline.

“Fixing it. You smell filthy,” he said, his voice rough.

Your breath hitched when you felt the moisture of his tongue as the muscle slithered up your neck, essentially grooming you of the scent of another hybrid you had tended to earlier that day.

Arlo set the blow-dryer on the counter as he stood from the seat. “Damn, Felix. You just gonna leave me out?”

You yelped as the older brother's claws snatched your jaw up, forcing you to face the ceiling as his face dipped low from the side, wedging himself between the counter and your thigh.

Heat rushed through your body as your other hand grabbed Arlo’s shoulder in reflex. Despite using your strength to push them away, they were like stone walls.

It was late when you had entered their cage to check their vitals.

The other hybrids had you backed up as you completed all of your assignments the best you could in a timely manner. You approached with careful steps so as to not wake either of the sleeping men.

Once you knelt next to the older male, you reached for his wrist, only to be surprised when an arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you onto the futon.

His warmth pressed against your back as he wrapped his tail lazily around your thigh, his arm holding you in place as he curled against you.

“Arlo!” you whispered sharply, attempting to twist out of his grip.

“Just lay with me for a little bit,” he said, his voice drowsy with sleep as he nuzzled against your neck.

Despite the logical part of your mind screaming at you to leave, you hesitated and figured that staying for a moment longer couldn’t hurt, as long as he fell asleep.

Time passed before you finally heard his breathing even out, allowing you to ease out of his grip.

You ignored the cold of your back from his absence as you kept your head straight toward the exit of the cage.

Three days had passed since you last stepped into their cage. You had switched assignments with another caregiver, distancing yourself from the hybrid brothers in a way that felt both suffocating and necessary. You had allowed a line to be crossed that should've never been breached.

It was going smoothly—or so you thought. You hadn't heard anything from or about them. You forced yourself not to worry about how they were doing or how they felt about your absence.

In the midst of beginning your shift, your boss, who had first introduced you to the hybrid brothers, yanked you to a stop as you walked toward the designated hybrid room for the occupants you had been tending to recently.

“You—,” He exhaled sharply, sweat streaming from his forehead and soaking through his shirt. “Come with me. Now.”

“What?” you questioned, confusion knitting your brows as concern crept in at his antsy behavior.

The man gripped your wrist, dragging you down the familiar path toward the snow leopards’ room. Before you could question him again, he threw the door open and pulled you inside.

Your eyes widened at the display.

Blood was everywhere.

The cage door was locked, yet inside, the floor was slick with crimson.

The scent of torn flesh thickened in the air as your gaze landed on the scattered human remains—entrails and half-eaten limbs strewn across the cage and spilling just beyond the bars onto the wooden floor.

Bile threatened to rise in your throat as you lifted an arm over your mouth, leaning forward slightly before your gaze shifted to the hybrids inside.

Felix sat on the futon with his knees raised, arms draped over them, his head bowed low. Despite his face being hidden, you could tell he was tense by the thrashing of his tail and the way his claws flexed against his arm. The skin visible to you was streaked with blood.

Arlo stood at the bars, forehead resting against the cold metal, his hair partially veiling his face, claws curled around the bars. You caught the glint of his irises through the strands—dark, heavy-lidded, unreadable. His body and face bore the same smears of blood. His tail hung low, his ears flattened against his head.

The middle-aged man shifted nervously beside you. “They won't talk to anyone. They haven't even moved from their spots since we found them hours ago. They bonded with you, didn't they?”

You hesitated before giving a slow nod. Keeping your eyes on the floor, you stepped forward carefully, attempting to avoid the red puddles and strewn remains—though failing the closer you got to the bars.

You made sure not to get too close as you met Arlo’s gaze.

“Why have you been avoiding us?” His voice was calm, his expression stoic and dark as he looked down at you.

“Have you abandoned us?”

The words alone sent a chill up your spine, dread coiling in your stomach at the mess you had created by getting too close to them.

Someone innocent had died because of your mistakes.

The air in the bathroom was thick with steam and tension from the moments before. You carefully scrubbed Felix’s arm, his skin still streaked with traces of blood. Both brothers sat silently in the bathtub, their expressions unreadable and dark. Their wet hair hung over their faces, dripping with water that trickled down their features.

“I... I'm sorry for not staying as professional as I should've,” you said softly, your voice strained with the tension. “And for leaving without saying anything.”

Felix’s jaw tightened, his body barely moving as his fingers curled against the edge of the tub.

His calm expression flickered with irritation. His tone was rough, but controlled. “You don't get it, do you?”

You were caught off guard as his claws snatched your wrist, pulling you forward with your arm stretched out. He leaned closer, eyes boring into yours. “You're an idiot. This is about you leaving us. Abandoning us for other hybrids while we waited for you to come back.”

Your heart started to pound against your chest as you tried to yank your arm out of his painful grip. “You're misunderstanding the situation! You shouldn't be so fucking attached to me. You're gonna be sold today! This isn't appropriate-!”

Arlo’s hand snatched the back of your neck, forcing you to face him. Moisture from the bath water dripped down your skin. “You think we give a fuck about what's appropriate?”

Suddenly, he threw you back, and you landed harshly on the floor. You watched with wide eyes as they stood up from the tub, water streaming down their bodies, their wet ears and tails flicking the moisture off as they took a step forward.

You scooted back gradually as they walked toward you, staring down at you with cold gazes.

“I think you've got this shit all wrong, Y/n.” Felix’s voice was low and predatory as their tails thrashed around, ears flat against their heads.

It was traumatic.

The entire auction house erupted into a bloody massacre. With their claws extended, fangs as sharp as daggers, and bodies bare of any clothing, they mauled and shredded apart all of the employees, audience members, and hybrids that they smelled on you. One by one, the people who had been part of the illegal auction were maimed, killed, and toyed with—entrails and body parts scattered around the room.

Despite their calm demeanor and stoic gazes, a smirk or two here and there, they were feral. You could see it in their eyes—they absolutely enjoyed shredding everyone apart. The carnage lasted for at least an hour, though you hadn't kept track of the time. You were too distracted by the bloodshed playing out in front of you.

You even freed some of the hybrids from their cages in hopes of the innocents escaping.

You recognized the middle-aged man, your boss, in an unrecognizable pile of guts, torn flesh, and blood.

Eventually, the chaos ended. The cries and screams of terror had finally died down.

You sat with your knees drawn to your chest, too paralyzed to escape. You hoped they would finish you off like they had the others, considering the guilt that weighed heavily on you for all of this. Felix and Arlo finally approached you, their faces and torsos streaked with crimson. Their eyes held an eerie calm, but there was a glint of amusement there.

“Y'know, we were gonna do this the day we were captured,” Felix muttered, a smirk curving his lips as he crossed his arms. “But we stayed for you. It was fun while it lasted, playing as strays in a cage and all.”

Tears streamed down your face as you looked up at them. It felt as if the control you had all along had been stolen away from you. All of your emotions burst out in a hysterical outburst, your weeping uncontrollable as you covered your face and bowed your head.

“I-I can't believe this..” you sobbed, your voice shaky.

Arlo’s claws gently, but firmly, pulled your wrist away from your face, forcing you to stand. His bloody thumb smeared crimson against your cheek as he wiped away your tears. “Cry all you want, sweetheart. We're not done with you, yet,” he smirked.

Arlo dragged you with them as they made their way toward the exit, stepping over the corpses of the dead without a second glance. Their smug expressions didn't falter as they moved through the carnage. The air was thick with the stench of death, but it seemed as though they had done this a thousand times before.

As they stepped outside, Felix pulled out a phone from one of the corpses, dialing a number with blood staining the screen.

The phone rang, and you could only watch, too overwhelmed to react, as they spoke to their friend. They were casual, almost as if the massacre hadn't just taken place. The brutality they'd shown was nothing more than a prelude to what they had planned next.

“Done playing pretend?” The voice on the other end spoke with a condescending tone.

“Yeah. Just come pick us up.” Felix’s voice was smooth.

It had been weeks since the incident. You were deemed one of the unidentified victims—nothing but an unrecognizable pile of flesh and guts.

That day still haunted you, the memories of the chaos, screams, torn flesh. The smell of death was the worst of it.

Now, you sat between the two hybrids in the large bathtub. Your back rests against Arlo’s chest, his hands holding your breasts apart as Felix, sitting in front of you with your legs over his raised thighs, slides a wet cloth against the middle of your chest.

"Relax," Arlo breathed as you felt his hard cock press against your lower back. Understanding what he meant, you tilted your head back against his chest, tilting to the side enough for his lips to press against your neck. His fangs nip your skin, causing you to shudder as Felix continues his motion against your skin.

Felix’s hand moved lower, slowly disappearing under the sudsy water as he released the cloth, a sudden pressure of his finger meeting your clit. He leaned forward, lips parted as they pressed against yours in a slow, passionate kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth.