#it only raised to 27% to steal

[kissitbttr]

dilf!toji giving you a ride back to the party

a small follow up from this !

|

there has been times where you fantasize about hot older men with your friends. all of you agree that they are just better at everything.

you remember this one time when you had a crush on the first older guy you had found attractive. he was your dad’s closest friend. you had always loved admiring him from afar, undressing him with your eyes, imagining how he’d look as he fucks you in your bed. sadly, he’s married. which means, you can’t do anything about it.

one of your friends encouraged you to break it up though, steal him away from his wife in which you reply with a disgusting look on your face. because never in a million years you would stoop that low.

no guys ever came close as your dad’s best friend after that. dismissing every single college guys who tried to get into your pants, tossing every written numbers on a paper from them into a trash can. your ex was the only exception though. why? because he was two years older than you. that counts for something, right?

until now.

you sit rather quiet nervously in the passenger’s seat. fingers drumming slightly against your thick thighs, stealing glances every now and then at the handsome stranger who offered you a ride before,

and boy, does he look so hot doing it.

he leans comfortably against the seat with one hand on the wheel while the other perched on his thigh. looking like a perfect dream

dear god, please do not make me wet tonight

“thank you for the food, sir. i love it” you give him a smile, shoving another fry into your mouth. “i’m starving”

toji cranes his neck to look at you, mirroring your smile. “i thought i told you to call me toji?”

“oh yeah! sorry, i forgot!” you let out a nervous giggle, finger toying with the skirt of your dress. discreetly pulling it down further since it keeps riding up,

“i didn’t catch your name though. mind telling me?” he starts, putting his focus back on the road while taking a turn,

“i’m y/n” you respond to the beautiful dark haired man,

“pretty name for a pretty girl” he compliments, grinning widely at you. chuckling after seeing you blush. “still in college?”

you nod. “mhmm!”

“you like it?”

“pft! as if!” you roll your eyes, making him laugh at your comment. “college is insanity. too much work, but the parties help”

“i bet” he replies, head shaking. “is it like a regular thing?”

“kind of. we always do it once a week, or twice…? can’t exactly count. the frats usually the one who held it, so I can’t really tell” you shrug your shoulders, eyes looking over to the window. “what about you, sir-toji?”

he snorts, running his fingers over his hair and you almost let out a soft gasp.“oh I don’t party, sweetheart. i’m too old for that.”

“can’t be that old” you giggle, reaching out to poke his side with a finger. you don’t know where that confidence comes from, could be from alcohol,

toji raises an eyebrow at the sudden touch, but makes no comment. “i’m pushing 40, so definitely old” he smirks at you,

40..?

oh…

a look of surprise is taking over your face. “really?” you see him nod again in confirmation. “you don’t look like you’re that old”

“how old did you think i am?”

“hmm, 27?”

he barks a laugh, and you never heard something so pretty. “now you’re just being polite, sweetheart”

god, he really is making you swoon with all the terms of endearment . you wonder if he’s married or taken,

“are you single?”

he’s taken aback at the question, eyebrow raising. “why, want to take me out on a date?”

giggling, you toss a hair behind your shoulder before shrugging it. shifting your body to completely facing him now. “maybeee”

toji only laughs at your confidence. the small pouty look you’re giving just makes him want to give you a peck on the lips. maybe two.

you’re so damn cute, he’d give you that.

“yes, i am. divorced about two years ago.”

“oh… what happened? if you don’t mind me asking.”

he shrugs like it’s nothing. “didn’t work out. the whole marriage was draining me. but i got a little boy who i love dearly and would tear down the whole fucking sky for”

he’s got a kid?! holyshit,

“how old is he?”

“just turned two last month” he smiles at the thought of his little megumi sleeping soundly back home. “how about you, sweetheart? got marriage written down on your plan?”

“oh of course! it’s definitely on my bucket list!” you sigh dreamily at the thought of you walking down the aisle. “not any time soon though! i like being like this for a moment”

“good. you enjoy that while it lasts.” he advises. “hate to overstep, but what’s the deal with your ex before?”

hearing that makes your smile drop and body slouch. eyes dropping down to your lap. “oh..”

toji senses that bubbly personality of your is wearing off soon as he mentions that, which causes him to panic. “shit, I didn’t mean to make you sad, darling. sorry. you don’t have to explain”

you shake your head, clearing your throat. “no, no! it’s fine it was just—“ you cut yourself with a sad sigh. “he wanted.. to have sex with me at the party but.. i didn’t want to.. because we were drunk! and it wouldn’t be right for us to do it while we’re drunk, right?! so i told him no… over and over and — he didn’t take it well so… he called me a boring bitch and broke it off..”

his eyebrows deepening hearing that, hand around the wheel tighten at the thought of some lowlife punk trying to force himself at a sweet girl like you to have sex,

“you fucking with me?” his tone rising, seeing you shake your head as a no. “my god that’s not— sweetheart, you know that it was not your fault right? was that why you looked so sad? because you thought that you should’ve gave him what he wanted?”

you toy with the hem of your skirt, still looking down before nodding. “…yes.. because maybe then he wouldn’t be mad”

“no.. oh god, no.. don’t you ever, ever think that. what you did was the right thing, baby. you should be proud for standing up to yourself, you know that?”

slowly you look up to him, seeing his genuine eyes looking into yours. “okay..”

but toji doesn’t buy that, instead he shakes his head. “no, i want to hear you say it, come on. say ‘i did the right thing’”

a smile slowly creeps up to your face while your cheeks are heating up. “tojiii” you whine,

he smiles back at you, “come on. say it”

“i—i did the right thing” you repeat slowly,

“good girl” he praises, and that almost makes your body goes slump and your thighs to squeeze together,

when was the last time someone called you that?

throughout the ride, you and toji talk a lot about each other. from a-z. and you can’t help but admit how refreshing it is to finally have someone to talk to like this. it was a non-stop conversation, accompanied by the soft tunes playing in the background—thanks to your choice of music—

you may not notice this but toji is purposely taking the long way just so the conversation stays a bit longer,hoping you don’t realize what he’s doing. it’s not like you would actually complain, you enjoy his company.

despite your age, toji finds you to be the most interesting woman he has ever met. the way you talk freely and articulate words when you speak to him is so attractive. he loves a woman who has her own opinion on everything and you had just shown him that.

you’re smart, witty, have a great sense of humor and not to mention,

really fucking gorgeous.

toji feels like a downright pervert when he tries to sneak a glance at your soft plump thighs every second. imagining how they would look around his head. or the fat of your tits when you bounce on his cock, giving him the perfect view. and your lips,

god, your pink. glossy . lips.

“is this the place?” he pulls up in front of the big frat house where he can see a few kids standing on the porch, typical red solo cups in their hands. his eyes carefully observe the scene before him. “shit, they’re really getting shit faced huh?”

you laugh, looking over where one kid had puked all over the lawn making you grimace. “they’re not all like that everyday”

“hmm sure, sweetheart” he rolls his eyes, but smile anyways. “be careful now, yeah? you got my number saved?”

nodding, you take one good look at him before unbuckling your seatbelt. “yup! thank you for the ride, toji. you’re a real life saver!”

“don’t mention it. keep an eye out on any one who wants to try something with you. especially your ex. let me know if he’s bothering you, i’ll come quickly as i can” he informs,

your heart feels like its about to jump out of your chest, “i will, thanks again and oh! wait— can i … see you again?”

he quirks an eyebrow at that, a cocky smirk stretches upon his pretty lips causing you to glance down at it,

“you want to?” his finger and thumb softly tapping against the wheel

“i do” you reply quickly, biting down on your lower lip as your hand fiddle against the handle of his car door. “this can’t be the last time, right?”

no, of course not he thinks. because he wants to see you too. if not more than you want to see him. might as well take you out on a date, or a stroll. anything. as long as he gets to see that pretty face of yours longer than just an hour.

“you got it, sweetheart. keep a look out for a text from me, then yeah?” his hand then reach our to grab your other one, giving a soft kiss on the knuckles while maintaining an eye contact with you,

you let out a shaky breathe with a small cute smile as he rubs his thumb against your skin. before you can even move your hand to open the door, he does it for you. shooting you another smile of his.

you grab your purse and climb out of the vehicle, waving your hand at him. “good night , toji”

“goodnight, y/n. i’ll see you very soon” he winks before you close the door and see himself drive off,

you stand there for a while with a bright smile on your face that never seems to leave,

you really can’t wait to see him again

—

next part, first date?👀

a/n: also, planning to make this into a series <3

taglist:

@fushipurro

@crocodilethesir

@chilichopsticks

@trentknd

@tojis-ball-sack

@hellokittyloverrxox

@xavlyzn

[abbyromanoff]

hi!!! is it okay to request R (18) having a crush on her professor which is Nat (either 27 or like around 30s) then Nat heard about it because of the gossips so she confronts reader abt it although reader have the upper hand defending herself yet nat was able to pin her and they kissed—thats the last time they saw each other not until they had a reunion during reader's college years

sorry if this is kinda long😭

SEE ME AFTER CLASS

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 781

WARNINGS: all are 18+ teacher x student relationship, professor x student relationship, kinda stalking, angst, fluff, and some heated moments yall

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

You were fucked, to say the least. You had never been called to stay after by a teacher, but here you stood, eyes shot wide, lips slightly agape as you nodded slowly to Ms. Romanoff’s request.

“You’re probably wondering why I had you stay after with me today,” You nodded once again, and she chuckled while leaning forward on her elbows, unconventionally pushing her breasts further together in your view.

“Well, you’re not in trouble, sweetheart.” She helped ease the tension, and your breath of release caused your eyes to flutter shut, your hand coming to your chest as you feared the worst.

“But, there is something I’d like to talk to you about. There seems to be a rumor lurking around the school, and with your popularity, it only took a short time to reach me.” She suddenly stood from her seemingly comfortable chair and placed herself on the edge of the desk in front of you, leaning down to place a hand on her knee as the other found your chin. While you were both of legal age, considering that you were forced to stay back in the fifth grade when your parents had to move halfway into the school year for your father's work, this was still wrong. You were a senior, she was your teacher. And even though you were near graduation with your final week approaching, you were still hefty about the consequences this action could have.

“Uhm, Ms. Romanoff,”

“Call me Nat,”

“I- I don’t exactly think that is appropriate, I don’t think any of this is appropriate.” You began to stand but were quickly forced back down with her incredible strength, and you nearly whimpered at the contact.

“Shh, baby, no one needs to know, okay? It’s just me and you in here; besides, aren’t you the one with that little crush on me?” Your eyes shot wide, your stance faltering as you failed to explain yourself.

“C’mon, all I’m asking is one little kiss before I have to see my favorite student go,”

And that’s all it was, at first. It started with a small kiss. Only once, never again. But then it came again, and her lips drew you in again and again and again. Up until your day on the podium where you thanked multiple people, her being one of them. That’s where you ended it.

When your parents waited in their car and everyone began piling out, you dragged her behind the school, crying through small pecks as you two said your goodbyes. You expected it to be your last. But then you walked into your fourth class on the second day of college, you were yet to have this class the day prior. It was fresh, the faces were all new, except the professors.

“Nat?” She turned suddenly hearing your voice, smiling widely when seeing you.

“I didn’t believe it when I saw your name on my roster, but it’s true.” She began rushing towards you, thankful for your early arrival. You put your hands on her chest to back her away, causing her to hold a confused raise of her brow.

“What is it? I know we ended things but- but I’m here, and so are you, we’re back together again.” You shook your head with a scoff, your gaze falling to the floor before she lifted your chin to look her in the eye, and goosebumps ran down your skin as you recalled the previous encounters just like this moment.

“Y/N, we ended things because you were going to college and we would be too far. So I moved, and I got a job here, I’ve had the skills and degrees to be a professor and now it’s all finally working out for the best.” She paused, brushing the hair out of your face before cupping your cheeks lovingly.

“We can be together again, Y/N, we don’t have to fear it. We’ll have to hide it for a few years, but that’s all. Outside of these doors, we can be whatever we want to be, I don’t care about the age difference or the looks or the judgement, I only care about you. I love you, sweet girl.”

“Y/N? Y/N!” Your head shot up in a hurry, your mind quickly investigating the surrounding area until you registered where you were.

“You keep falling asleep in my class, and I’m beginning to grow quite concerned,” You faced the older woman who had a small smirk plastering her lips. She leaned in a little bit closer, and you hoped it did not look so promiscuous to others.

“Please see me after class, honey, we need to have a chat.”

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Pride! Could you do more of the fem mxy!wwx identity porn? I hope you have a great day 🌻

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42

Jiang Yanli sees the Lan party approaching and cant help the spike of anxiety that shoots through her.

First is Lan Xichen and A-Yao, who greet Madame Jin and Jin Guangshan formally and respectfully, without a hint of resentment for what they've put them through, for allowing them to arrange this alliance only to yank the promised marriage out from under them.

She knows better than to think there isn't any, but their serene expressions give nothing away. Lan Xichen's amiable mask hides a warm, peaceable center. A-Yao's hides a bitterness and cleverness so great that to this day she thinks it a tragedy that A-Yao hadn't grown up among the Yu.

They make look similar on the surface, but Lan Xichen and A-Yao’s relationship is proof that opposites really do attract.

A-Yao says something that causes Madame Jin’s face to tighten. Then they’re stepping back and Lan Wangji is stepping forward, but he’s not the one she cares about.

Xuanyu stands by his side, back straight and eyes forward, seemingly comfortable and at ease with Lan Wangji in a way that few people manage. Her expression when she faces her father is strained, but she stands close enough to Lan Wangji that their sleeves threaten to tangle together, so she assumes that strain is all that to Jin Guangshan and not Xuanyu’s husband.

“I told you she’s be fine,” Zixuan murmurs.

She wishes they were somewhere less public where she could get away with elbowing him in the ribs or at least stepping on his foot.

“Yanli-jie!” Xuanyu is waving at her, bounding forward without a thought to propriety. Both Lan Wangji and A-Yao are exasperated while Lan Xichen just seems outright fond, which is even more a balm to her worry than Xuanyu’s hopefully good relationship with her husband. A sect leader’s affection is nothing to sniff at, and even if Lan Wangji has little use for his bride, he would not upset his brother by treating someone he’s fond of callously.

“Meimei,” she returns and watches Xuanyu’s grins stretch to almost painful levels as the young woman reaches out to grab her hands. Xuanyu had felt so cold to the touch before, but now her hands are warm, and with several new callouses. She looks stronger too, thicker around the waist and the flesh of her cheeks, and it’s a relief to see her strengthened in both body and spirit.

Her grin eases and she becomes subdued as she inclines her head to Zixuan. “Jin Zixuan.”

He returns it, eyeing her speculatively, but it’s not a surprise. Jiang Yanli’s not sure if the two of them have ever had a real conversation.

“I brought some extra guests,” Xuanyu says. “Sorry.”

She gestures behind her and Jiang Yanli follows her hand and then blinks rabidly, but the vision in front of her doesn’t change. Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen stand there, along with a blind girl that she doesn’t remember seeing before. “It’s not a problem, Meimei. You’ll have to tell me that story of how they came to join you.”

Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow, looking down at Xuanyu who pointedly ignores his gaze. That makes Jiang Yanli nervous, but it doesn’t seem to be tinged with any true animosity. She’s more than familiar what that looks like on Lan Wangji.

“It was uh – recent. So recent that I’m in need of a proper bath and a new set of robes, actually.” She leans in to whisper, loudly enough that they can all hear her just fine, “I switched out my over robe for something less damaged and bloodstained.”

Lan Wangji sighs deeply. Xuanyu rolls her eyes, which seems like a good sign.

“Oh dear,” Jiang Yanli says, affecting wide eyes and a gentle concern that’s only a little fake. For a moment, a smirk steals across Xuanyu’s face before she smooths it out again, which nearly distracts Jiang Yanli from her play here. Not even A-Yao had picked up on her act the first time she used to it. “That sounds so harrowing and awful. Please, let me escort you to my rooms – you can use my bath and I can help you with your hair. We are sisters, after all.”

“Of course, Yanli-jie,” she says, eyes bright with humor. It’s refreshing to do this with someone who’s in on the joke from the beginning and isn’t A-Cheng. “That’s so kind of you, how can I possibly refuse?”

Both of their husbands look put out as they walk away together, arm in arm. Maybe this will finally give Zixuan and Lan Wangji something to talk about.

[loveephia]

you sharing a bed with some of the HQ boys. (atsumu, kenma, and iwaizumi.)

background: the two of you checked into the hotel as friends/co-workers, but it seems that the hotel was fully packed, leaving you with only one room and one bed.

content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, sassy kenma, iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer, all of them are pretty long, timeskip.

⚠ warning/s: manga spoilers.

ATSUMU MIYA

the tight schedule of the MSBY team was already an inconvenience enough, now this?

honestly, atsumu's probably enjoying every bit of what's happening rn

that handsome son of a gun

"i can sleep on the floor if it makes ya uncomfy." he offers

"no.. you'll get back pain. i can't risk that when you have practice tomorrow." you say

you're about to make yourself a make-shift bed on the floor before atsumu carried you bridal style

you yelped at the sudden action, "a- atsumu—?!"

"nuh-uh, let's just both sleep on the bed. what kinda person would i be if i let you sleep on the floor?" he says as you puff your cheeks to show slight irritance

as you two get comfortable on the bed, you placed a pillow in-between you and atsumu

which is useless because it'll be discarded later on in your slumber

he woke up with you in his arms fast asleep

"ain't this kinda scandalous?" he thinks to himself, not wanting to wake you up

KENMA KOZUME

because of the hassle to get to the hotel, him being practically half-asleep, and the fact that he's absolutely famished, he really couldn't care less

he's just happy there's even a bed at this point.

he flops onto the bed and waits for you to come next to him

you, being the only one conscious right now, look at him with a raised brow

"you can't be serious right now." you deadpan

"it's either the floor or the bed, your choice." kenma mumbles against the pillow, already feeling himself drift off to dreamland

he later woke up

on not a pillow

but on your chest

bro was redder than lightning mcqueen

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

may i just sayheHHehaHEHAHAHHAEHEHEHH

he's all bashful about the hotel mishap because he has the biggest crush on you

and he's making sure that you're really okay with sharing a bed with him 😭😭

"are you sure? i can just book another roo—"

you cut him off with a quick, easy, and probably very loud "YES." because it's IWAIZUMI HAJIME (27) ATHLETIC TRAINER FOR CRYING OUT LOUD❗️❗️

anyway, you climb into bed all excited to be close to your longtime crush, your cheeky little smile practically lighting up the room

now he's sitting next to you, nervous to even move

and every time you do touch, he flinches

he turns the lamp off and mutters a small, "goodnight."

oh, and a good night it was. YUP YUP❗️❗️

you slept like a baby, clinging onto iwaizumi's arm, trying to steal warmth off of that man. there's drool all over your pillow, and your lips were curved upwards at the satisfied position.

he woke up with your arms wrapped around him

my gosh, he's so red

© lowercase intended | loveephia

[posttexasstressdisorder]

The GOP’s 43-year tax-cuts-for-billionaires-while-we-ignore-the-needs-of-the-country grift has an analogy in condos and homes across America that might help voters understand how it works and how they’ve gotten away with it.

Fully 84 percent of all homes and apartments built and sold in 2022 came with a homeowner’s association (HOA), and an estimated 27 percent of all homeowners nationwide currently live in a property controlled by an HOA.

And many are very unhappy about the experience.

According to a survey by Rocket Mortgage, only 47 percent of HOA residents think their HOA has made their community better, only two-thirds (64%) believe their HOA “honestly handles its finances,” and one in ten people nationwide who have an HOA cite the HOA itself as their main reason for moving.

How and why is this?

Louise and I have lived in five communities with HOAs in two different states. Three (including where we now live) were well managed, kept up the community, and set aside money from the dues every month for the inevitable future maintenance. I was on the board of one of them. The other two ran, essentially, a shell game or reverse Ponzi scheme, which led us to eventually quit those communities and move.

READ: Deep-red 'Republican stronghold' thought to be 'easy win for Trump' is now a swing state

I remember attending a board meeting in one of those “shell game” HOA communities we’d lived in. There were multiple common-area maintenance issues needing attention, but a group who called themselves “low-tax conservatives” had run the board for over a twenty years.

There was almost nothing in reserves, so maintenance had been continuously postponed until things hit a crisis level. Then they’d hit us all with a series of “special one-time assessments” ranging from a few hundred to a few thousand dollars to pay for the upkeep. They refused to raise the monthly HOA fee, referring to it as a tax, because, they said, they were “low-tax conservatives”; in fact, they were just cheapskates.

That HOA board had been, in the past and the present, stealing from future homeowners.

They did it so they could enjoy the community during the first 30 or so years — when maintenance costs were minimal — without setting aside money for the future, when things would rot or wear out and need replacement or upgrade.

For the first three decades, they were able to coast with $200/month in dues and no assessments; by the time we arrived when the units were pushing 35 years old, though, the assessments were hitting $3000 to $9000 a year, and, when the buildings’ roofs need repair (soon) it’ll be twice that amount or more.

Fortunately, once we saw the handwriting on that particular wall we were able to sell our condo and move to a well-run community. Americans, though, don’t have that option: Republicans have been running this same shell game or reverse Ponzi scheme against all of us (except the very rich) across the entire country ever since Reagan successfully pitched trickle-down economics to the nation in 1981.

If you’ve ever lived in one of these shell game HOA’s, you now perfectly understand Reaganomics and why it seems that America has deteriorated so badly over the past 40 years.

You could call it the disaster of pothole economics: all across America, roads, bridges, water systems, schools, and other vital public infrastructure have been underfunded and neglected ever since Reagan popularized the idea of “austerity” among Republicans.

In order to pay for the second most massive tax cut for the morbidly rich in history (Reagan cut the top tax bracket from 74% down to 25%), his administration cut spending on education, housing, roads and bridges, and pretty much every other aspect of America’s infrastructure. George W. Bush did the same thing, and Donald Trump tripled down on the scheme.

The result was a $51 trillion transfer of wealth — over a mere forty-three years — from the homes, retirement accounts, and savings of average working families into the money bins of the extremely wealthy. Thirty-four trillion of that transfer show up as our national debt, which was a mere $800 billion ($0.8 trillion) when Reagan first came into office and started this scam.

President Joe Biden and his Vice President, Kamala Harris, ran the first administration of either party to significantly repudiate Reagan’s neoliberalism by injecting trillions into rebuilding our nation (over 35,000 projects) while raising taxes on rich people and corporations to pay for it.

The result was immediately visible, just like in the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s: we now have the best economy on planet Earth with unemployment lower than any time since the 1960s (and lower than any time in history for women, Blacks, and Hispanics). Inflation has been at or below 0% for the past two months and is annually running around 3% (Reagan never got inflation below 4.1% in his entire 8 years); all across America we’re putting our rural areas, towns, and cities back together.

For the past forty years, Republicans and their administrations have focused almost entirely on taking cash away from working class people and handing it off to the billionaires who own and finance their party. At the top of the list of ways they did this was a series of five tax cuts for the morbidly rich and big corporations adding up to over $30 trillion since 1981.

But they’ve also been cutting spending to compensate for their tax breaks for the billionaire class: They blocked extending the child tax credit this year, throwing millions of American children back into poverty. They’ve fought lifting the cap on Social Security taxes so people making over $168,600 will begin paying on all of their income (millionaires and billionaires currently pay only a tiny fraction of the percentage to support Social Security that the rest of us do).

Fully 100% of congressional Republicans voted against Biden’s Build Back Better program that’s now putting America back together and his American Rescue Plan that lifted millions out of poverty and put millions more back to work. They successfully blocked the Paycheck Fairness Act that would have penalized employers for wage discrimination based on gender; they’ve refused to expand Medicaid in almost a dozen Red states; they even filibustered an attempt to raise the minimum wage from $7.25 to $10.10.

For the past forty-plus years, Republicans — just like these dysfunctional HOAs — have been stealing from America’s future; our infrastructure deficit alone is several trillion dollars, meaning Americans will be paying more in taxes to make up for all those decades of neglect.

Democrats want those tax increases to hit people earning over $400,000 a year; Republican tax proposals, on the other hand, mostly focus on increasing income taxes and fees on working class people while continuing or even expanding tax breaks for the very wealthy.

One of the “low tax” HOAs we used to live in, instead of raising their monthly fee or instituting an assessment, recently negotiated a million-dollar-plus 20-year loan with people’s properties as the collateral to fund painting and repairing serious rot on the buildings.

This should have been paid for with an increase in HOA fees twenty years ago, anticipating the future maintenance and upkeep needs.

But instead they kept the fee low, never built up a reserve, and are now borrowing from the bank. In other words, they’re continuing the all-too-common HOA board scam of requiring future generations to pay for current repairs, just like the GOP budget proposals we’ll see when they return from summer vacation in September will require future generations to pay for their past tax cuts.

It’s the equivalent of Reagan, Bush, and Trump jacking up the national debt to keep things glued together, forcing future generations to pay it off when the bill comes due, while their wealthy corporate funders rob us blind.

Homeowners across America are waking up to these toxic HOA boards, as social media sites for HOA members are forming and local homeowner uprisings are happening against boards, either replacing the board members or, in some cases, even suing them. Some states are even starting to require they build up reserves for future maintenance.

Hopefully, Americans will realize how successfully Republicans have inflicted this very same scam on voters and working class people over the past forty-plus years and vote the bums out this fall.

ALSO READ: Mike Johnson's now-deleted Trump social media post sparks controversy

[girlactionfigure]

Here are 50 Palestinian Lies Since Last Saturday, 7 October 2023:

1- Hamas killed nobody.

2- Hamas only killed IDF soldiers.

3- The soldiers Hamas targeted were not in uniform.

4- Okay, Hamas killed civilians, but they’re part of the occupation.

5- Hamas didn’t kill children.

6- Hamas didn’t burn children.

7- The fire was an accident.

8- Hamas didn’t kidnap children.

9- Hamas takes care of child hostages.

10- Hamas didn’t rape women.

11- Other people raped the women.

12- The Hamas fighters who raped will be punished. 

13- Hamas didn’t bomb people hiding in bomb shelters. 

14- Only one bomb shelter was bombed. 

15 - Hamas didn’t shoot people as they fled.

16- The people who were shot while fleeing were guilty of occupation.

17- Hamas is not a terrorist group. 

18- Hamas is a resistance group.

19- Jews began the conflict in 1948, Hamas is still resisting that today.

20- Hamas doesn’t idolize Hitler.

21- Only some Hamas members love Hitler. 

22- Hamas is different from ISIS.

23- Only some Palestinians joined ISIS in 2014. 

24- Hamas doesn’t want a global Caliphate, (when Hamas’ Charter says they strive for a global caliphate).

25- Hamas respects Human rights, but… “Jews are not Humans”

26- Palestinians don’t idolize Saddam Hussein, despite him having roads, roundabouts named after him in Gaza and West Bank - and his photos raised in Palestinian protests.

27- Hamas does not steal. 

28- Hamas only takes what it needs to protect Palestinian interests. 

29- Hamas doesn’t kill Palestinians.

30- Only some Hamas rockets accidentally land in Gaza and kill Palestinians. 

31- Hamas never uses human shields.

32- Only in some cases Hamas may use human shields. 

33- We don’t want to drown Jews in the sea. We want a peaceful solution. 

34- There will be no peace until all the land is ours and the Jews return to Europe. 

35- All the Arab states have betrayed us.

36- All the Arab states are supporting us. 

37- Iran doesn’t fund Hamas.

38- Iran only supplies Hamas with weapons, not money.

39- Iran only pays our soldiers’ salaries. 

40- Hamas is not the Muslim Brotherhood. 

41- Hamas was only founded by the Muslim Brotherhood. 

42- Palestinians didn’t support Osama Bin Laden.

43- Only some Palestinians (thousands) celebrated on 9/11.

44- Nobody gave Palestinians a chance to govern themselves.

45- Yes we elected Hamas in Gaza, but Hamas doesn’t represent us.

46- Sometimes Hamas represents us, and sometimes it doesn’t. It depends.

47- Palestinians are indigenous to the Holy Land.

48- Yasser Arafat was Egyptian, but he was also indigenous to Palestine. 

49- Palestinians who stab Jews get paid because their families need to eat. 

50- It’s all the Jewish people’s fault.

———

If you’ve seen another lie being amplified over the last week, feel free to add it to the list below.

Imam of Peace

[quigonswife8]

Training: Leon Kennedy x reader

Leon trains you and teaches you to protect yourself

gif creds: @leon-jpg

Warnings: swearing, getting hurt.

Leon speaking is bold.

---

"You're not standing correctly"

He paces the room; his eyes locked onto you. The blueness of his eyes seem to compliment the uniform he wears, his right hand gripping onto his knife.

"...you have to adjust your positioning because if you stand like that while fighting you'll be hurt."

Leon Kennedy is your teacher: the age gap between the two of you is quite noticeable yet that doesn't seem to bring any problems. He is nearing his 30's, while you're in your early 20's which reminds Leon of when he was also in his early 20's, training to be a cop.

He's also your boyfriend ; the two of you hit it off pretty much straightaway a few years back. During a conversation where you laid with your head on his lap, he decided to teach you how to defend yourself not wanting anything to happen to you.

Over the course of your training Leon has been very instructive, very thorough. He looks out for you as not only your boyfriend but also as your mentor, while also maintaining that sternness and sense of leadership that is needed. Though this is his first trainee be it his partner, he has been doing super well in training you.

The sweat runs down your forehead, as you adjust your positioning like he had suggested- well, told. "Nearly, but not quite." the 27 year old approaches, he tucks his knife away and comes up behind you; you feel your breathing still for a moment, which makes Leon smirk a little, and when he places his hands on your back, you blush a bit.

"Okay now..." he shifts your body, hands shifting to your arms to adjust them. His touch is electric, intimate, and your heart beat begins to pick up- "..and keep your positioning like this..."

He leans in, breath against your ear and he decides to tease you a bit by keeping his hands on your arms a moment longer. Then he lets you go and turns around to face you. "Okay now show me what I just demonstrated to you."- he watches, and when you do it, a smile appears.

"That's good!"- he pats you on the back and nods.

"...you're learning very quickly i'm impressed. Although i'm always impressed with you sweetheart." and god if you didn't melt into a puddle right then and there. He really knows how to get you even if it's a simple word, or simple teasing.

"Thanks love."

Leon tosses you a bottle of water and let's you take a break for ten minutes. He sits nearby drinking his own water, although during this silence you notice him stealing glances at you every-so-often. His eyes soften, and he can't help the smile that plays on his lips; even while sweaty and your clothes messy, you still look perfect.

"I'm proud of you sweetheart.", he takes a chug of his water, pushing some blonde locks out of his eyes.

"...you're not a d.s.o. agent, or had any prior experience, but you're still holding your own so well."

"Well I have the perfect teacher to thank for that..."

Leon's heart melts; he reaches his hand out and takes yours, giving it a quick squeeze. The agent rubs his thumb over your knuckles, his touch so gentle and soft, he's memorizing your hand with his own. Then he raises it to his lips and presses a quick kiss to it, getting caught up in the intimacy of this moment.

"You're welcome sweetheart."-

Leon lets out a soft sigh and hesitantly lets your hand go. He props his water up nearby and then stands, "You ready for more sweetheart?"- unable to hide the smile you follow suit, tossing the water bottle on top of your jacket on the floor. Then raising to your feet and resuming the previous position with a confident look, one that wasn't there before.

"Ready."

-----

"AGH!"

"Shit." he curses and rushes to you, trying to get you to uncover your face. "Sweetheart let me see your eye.", with a groan you take your hand away and show him; his eyes widen though he keeps his composure.

"You have a black eye, sit down and i'll go and get you an icepack.", and, so you do. You wait in pain for your partner to return, and once he does he kneels in front of you and presses the icepack to your eye gently.

"Hold this on your eye, it should help bring down the swelling."

What happened? When Leon had told you to attack, you managed to hit yourself in the eye hence the black eye. Now he kneels in front of you worry on his features, his right hand moving to take the one of yours not holding the icepack. Now he feels bad, and you try and reassure him but it doesn't really work.

"It was my own fault baby, not yours-"

"I still feel like it is."

"Well it's not, don't worry..."

Leon is hesitant, he isn't fully convinced though he drops that part of the subject...for the meantime. Instead deciding to caress your cheek and look into your eyes, wanting to be close to you and care for you.

"Well apart from the black eye, today was great. I can't wait for tomorrow."

"We should wait until your black eye is healed up before we continue."- his fingers trail to your chin, and then back to your cheek, his fingers tracing so delicately. "...but you're right today was great and like I always say, i'm so proud of you."

The two of you, sitting there in the training room of your house, sit in silence until you leave. The two of you shower, and then Leon carries you to the couch and sets up a movie [your favourite movie]. He makes up some popcorn and then lets you cuddle up to him on the couch.

As the movie plays, the pain from the blackeye seems to subside enough to not be annoying, and Leon keeps an arm wrapped around your waist. It's nice just being able to spend time together, after a long day of training, and as you look at Leon out of the corner of your eye, you can't help but smile.

[spnscripthunt-inactive]

WHAT IS #SCULLYCOFFEE4NF?

In the summer of 2016, I noticed that coffee shop baristas yelling out names reminded me of Mulder yelling out “Scullaaay!” on my favorite show, The X-Files. So I gave my name as Scully for a laugh, shared the picture with some other fans, and encouraged them to try it, too. I even promised to donate a dollar to the Neurofibromatosis Network for everyone who did it. I didn’t raise a whole lot of money, but the idea to have a #ScullyCoffee4NF day on Scully's birthday was born.

Gillian Anderson rose to fame on The X-Files playing Special Agent Dana Scully. She continues to delight her fans with memorable roles in The Fall, Sex Education and The Crown just to name a few. Ms. Anderson has also been a longtime supporter of the NF Network. As fans of Gillian, we thought this would be a fun way to support the work of the NF Network & celebrate her iconic character’s birthday.

Since 2017, X-Files fans have donated over $13,000 to the NF Network on #ScullyCoffee4NF day. Thank you to everyone who has donated in the past, thank you Gillian Anderson for inspiring generosity in your fans, and HAPPY 60th BIRTHDAY SCULLAAAAY!

HOW TO PARTICIPATE ON FEBRUARY 23RD:

1. Use the name “Scully” at your favorite coffee shop, or just take a creative coffee picture from home. We love the fun pictures, but we want you all to be safe this year, too!

2. Take a picture or video and share it on Facebook, X or Instagram and tag it #ScullyCoffee4NF.

3. Make a donation to the NF Network in honor of ScullyCoffee4NF day. Be sure to select ScullyCoffee4NF from the dropdown menu under ‘contributing towards.’  Every $10 donated gets you a chance in our donor prize drawing - prizes pictured below. So $20=2 chances to win, $30=3 chances to win, etc. Only one prize per person.

If you can’t get to a coffee shop or you don’t drink coffee, no problem - be creative!  The important part is to make the donation at the NF Network, you’ll still be entered in the drawing-the coffee pictures are just for fun!

2024 DONOR PRIZES

Open to everyone, as long as your mailing address is located on planet Earth!

—

Donor Prize #2 - Donated by SPN Script Hunt (hey, that's us!)

Unproduced script from The X-Files Season 10, from the collection of Chris Carter.

—

This fundraiser is why I got a group together to buy this script, let's kick it in the ass! - @lets-steal-an-archive

Update 02/27/2024

[theqtinkblot]

Helluva Wonderland AU: Sinners

With the Overlords/Housewardens’ backstories finished, let’s see how the others got to Hell. This will only talk about their short time on Earth and what they did in Hell before joining the cult. Also their will be a tiny bit of info for future characters, which I hope you’ll like.

Again, some warnings (18+): mentions of drugs, mentions of guns, underage drinking, unhealthy relationships, demonic practice, implied suicide, angst, violence, death, etc.. You get it, onto the post!

Ace Trappola:

Ace was born on September 23, 1988, in Camden, London, with his mom, his dad and his older brother. He lived a very modest life, but the only bad stuff he’s done was ghosting his girlfriend in middle school, gambling in small pubs for quick cash, and stealing only necessary items. But still, he did manage to go to college in America at the age of 21, before dying in a hit and run on March 5, 2010.

The moment he woke up in Hell with back pain, he immediately saw the red sky and freaked out seeing the creepy monsters around him. He ran towards the nearest store he could find to ask where he was only to be greeted by his new demonic reflection. He looked pretty much the same as he did before, with the only difference being his new reddish skin tone, pointed ears, sharp teeth, and his left eye having a black sclera with a red iris in the shape of a heart.

Ace’s first day in hell was just spent playing card tricks for crowds, gambling for quick cash, and stealing food just to survive. Things get a little messy when he ends up in the Heartslabyul district, Ace has just finished playing some tricks when he spots some tarts left alone. Little did he know, those were for the Crimson Tyrant, who found him eating one of his tarts and was about to behead him. But Ace begged him to spare him, so Riddle made him sell his soul to serve him whenever he demands it, making it very clear Ace must follow the rules Riddle made.

Deuce Spade:

Deuce was born to a single mother on June 3, 1994, in a small city in England. Growing up, he was nothing more than a total punk, ditching school, hanging with thugs, smoking and drinking, getting into fights, all the works. But one day, coming home late at night at the age of 21, he hears his mom crying about how awful a mother she must’ve been. After running away in tears, Deuce vowed to become a better person, but he didn't get that far when he got shot in the head on May 27, 2016.

After waking up from a splitting headache, the man immediately freaked out after seeing a demon get run over by a car. Deuce backs up into a glass wall and spots his demonic reflection. Not much about his appearance changed like his bleached hair, but his skin was now a bluish skin tone, pointed ears, sharp teeth, and his right eye having a black sclera with a blue iris in the shape of a spade.

In Hell, Deuce tried to change himself for the better, doing some good deeds and changing his bleached hair blue, but many sinners just see him as a thug. When he experienced Hell’s annual purge, Deuce was trying to find a place to hide but saw Riddle trying to escape an exorcist. Deuce knocked the angel out from behind, allowing him and Riddle to run back to the Heartslabyul district. The Overlord, thankful for his help, offers Deuce sanctuary in his domain, in exchange for his service as his guard.

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie was born on April 18, 1981 in a very poor part of New York city. His childhood wasn't the best, his mom dying when he was born and his dad just abandoning him, only to be raised by his grandma, so Ruggie did whatever it takes for them to survive. He kept up stealing and selling drugs to earn enough to support her until her passing, afterwards, he dies from a laughing gas leak on February 10, 2004, at the age of 22.

Ruggie violently woke up, coughing up a storm, only to find himself in somewhere that looked like a lion's den, before noticing a humanoid lion staring down at him. The lion man, or Leona, the King of the Hellbeasts, asked him, “How did you manage to trespass and enter my territory, hyena?” Ruggie didn’t understand what he meant until he discovered that he had indeed become an anthropomorphic spotted hyena demon.

With his laid-back, yet cunning personality, Ruggie became Leona’s right hand man, deceiving others to gain their secrets, stealing important and or valuable items, and currying out favors for Leona. Due to his versatility and street smarts from his poor upbringing, although very loyal to his Overlord master, he does find Leona's laziness or privileged behavior a bit annoying. But still, he doesn't go against Leona's orders and makes it his duty to make sure to remind Leona of his duties and that the Hellbeast sinners contribute to the Savanaclaw territory.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil was born on September 12, 1970, in the Middle East. For generations, his family has been servants for the Asim household, he was only born to serve, guard and be a companion to Kalim. But all his life, Jamil secretly hated being overshadowed by Kalim and giving up everything for him, which made him ultimately try to sabotage Kalim’s image while still acting as the servant the family expects of him. At the age of 22, Kalim got really into American pop culture, heard of a movie based on the 1001 Arabian Nights stories and wanted to go there, much to Jamil’s protests, only for him to be killed by a servant on November 25, 1992, from a venomous snake.

Jamil groaned in pain before realizing the venom suddenly subsiding, but when he tried to stand up, he felt his legs were unresponsive. Instead, he was shocked to find his legs had merged into a long snake tail and his hair now acted like a cobra’s hood. In the midst of his confusion, he notices someone fall next to him and sees a white otter with a water-like lava lamp chest wearing a turban, only to immediately groan, knowing exactly who he was.

Their first week of Hell was difficult as they tried to survive, but when Kalim got in contact with a group of demons who wanted to start a merchant business, Jamil was skeptical before they agreed to help. This led to business growing and many sinners willingly offered their services to Kalim, making him an Overlord, and Jamil low key hated it. Seeing that Kalim is succeeding and gaining power, just like he had before when they were alive, and even if Jamil is no longer bound to the rules and traditions his family was restricted to at birth, he’s still just second rate.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek was born in Paris, France on March 17, 1993, living with his mom, dad, his siblings, and grandfather, who was actually a descendant from the Draconian cult. Sebek would spend time with his grandpa, learning about their family’s demonic bloodline, how he was part of the war between Heaven and Hell, and founder of their cult. With this knowledge of his heritage, Sebek proudly devoted his life to the Draconian cult, even slaughtering any traitors, until his “sacrifice” on May 28, 2014, at the age of 21.

The first thing Sebek noticed when he awoke was a humongous chandelier lit with green flames, along with two men with demon horns staring back at him. His eyes lit up when the much taller demon introduced themselves as Malleus and Lilia before Sebek straightened himself and bowed at their presence. Later on, he would examine himself, only to see that he looked very much like his pathetic human form, except for the pointy fangs and his eyes having a black scleras with yellow-green eyes and vertical-slit pupils.

Once he is properly a part of the cult and settled down in Malleus’s castle, Sebek asked Lilia to train him to become a knight for Malleus. Sebek then began his combat training and magic lessons along with Lilia’s adopted son, Silver, who although didn’t seem to be demonic in nature and in appearance, still considers him as an equal, even if they argue at times. However, due to his dedication to Malleus and the cult, he almost looks down at every sinner around him and rarely has any friends to talk to.

[dooralight]

The demons have passed, and the king is naked(Erase everything you've known about me until today)

It's been two days, three hours and 27 minutes since damian went missing.

It's been an hour since Jason found him.

Usually, Jason didn't care much about the brat; he could take care of himself, after all. Like Jason, Damian was trained by the league, and knew 102 ways to kill a man thrice his size but he hates killing, and felt the need to remind the elder of that at least once a week. Plus, Jason had very few reasons to care for his so-called 'family', as dick insists to call their weird, creepy, sad bat-cult. And damian was definitely not one of them.

While the two were technically brothers, the role of robin was the only thing they had in common. Jason was raised in poverty, barely surviving the cold nights of gotham, and was forced to steal and run. Jason had nothing but a mother who wrapped her bony body around him at cold nights until she didn't. Damian, on the other hand, lived a life of luxury. The league's prince, the al ghul's pride and joy. Damian was raised in a cult full of murderers, barely surviving the brutal training he was forced to endure, forced to either kill or be killed. And Sometimes he was killed. damian had everything except for sympathy. And for those differences, Jason couldn't ever connect with the kid. That, and because damian was an absolute displeasure to be around.

So when he got a frantic call from Dick, claiming damian went missing, Jason honestly didn't care all that much. ''maybe the demon spawn doesn't want to be found.'' He told the oldest of Bruce's child soldiers children, not even removing his eyes from the gun barrel he was cleaning. "what?'' dick's disdisbelieving voice uttered from the other side of the call. "how can you say that?" Jason rolled his eyes and got up to get cleaner rug from the kitchen. ''you heard me. Kid's does that all the time. Disappears for a while, then comes back from the pits of hell just to torment us.''

"don't talk about your brother like that.'' Dick scolded, and gosh, he sounded like such a mom. ''besides, he never disappeared like that before. he always leaves a note or something.'' 'he always lets me know' was left unsaid. Honestly, gross. ''I don't know what to tell you, dickie. Maybe the kid felt like he was too old to let his wannabe daddy sigh his permission slip-'' a beep announced that the call has ended before he got the chance to finish his sentence. 

He found damian by accident.

Stephanie informed him of a case that cannot tolerate delays. ''a bunch of magic users are trying to summon a demon in the forest near gotham.'' She told him, a deep frown settled on her chin. She looked unusually troubled. "do we know why?'' he asked. That was too vague, even for brown. Batgirl only seemed to grow more upset by his question. "from the intel Constantine gave me, they're trying to create a new world from 'the ruins' of this one.'' She tried to mimick the man's British accent, but it ended up sounding more like Alfred. "and why exactly do you need me? I may be friends with an amazon, but I don't know all that much about magic, kid.''

Stephanie straightened her posture from being bent over the bat-computer and started heading towards the bat-mobile with her fists clenched at her sides. ''I need your…brute force. Either knock some sense into them,'' batgirl's too-calm voice echoed through the cave, ''or knock them out.''

----------------------------------------------------------------------

And that's how he found damian, standing behind a large, relatively flat boulder in the middle of a forest, surrounded by various animals, holding his katana in a threatening pose. ''your footsteps were too heavy, and I could hear the sound of Autumn leaves crunching under your feet from a mile ago. Were you not aware you're in a forest, Todd?" the little brat criticized distastefully, though he drew the weapon away and lowered himself into the ground. Jason scoffed. "yeah, whatever. Mind telling me what am I seeing?"

because the view in front of him probably got into the list of 'top 10 weirdest things red hood has seen this month', which meant something. In front of him, damian, in his 4'5 glory, was sitting calmly, drinking tea from one of alfred's favorite sets of cups, and he wasn't the only one; batman's blood son was surrounded by a raccoon, two deers, titus & Alfred the cat, and a fricking bear, all of them having their own cups. ''why do you care?" damian spat. Titus let out a growl. The dirty looking racoon stuffed his face into his cup of tea. ''I don't want to take the blame when B and dickie finds out their little baby got torn apart by a bear.'' Jason returned with the same amount of venom.

He regretted separating from Stephanie. She's one of the only people on the planet who has mastered the ability to deal with damian's attitude. ''I am not a baby. And besides, American black bears are the friendliest breed of bears." Damian scowled for a brief moment, then let a small smirk crawl into his features. "though, I wouldn't expect you to know that."

''you little—oh, whatever. Good luck with your bear.'' Jason turned to leave, then remembered the reason he came in the first place. "by the way, have you seen any magic users around here?'' Damian paused from petting one of the deers. "magic users?" Jason nodded. "yeah. Batgirl reported seeing them yesterday. You didn't happen to see anything?" Damian stared at him. "brown was keeping me company yesterday. There is no way she noticed something that I didn't." Jason's brain short-circuited.

"She was with you? yesterday?" And she didn't tell Bruce anything? Well, he could actually understand that. But why didn't she at least tell dick? Damian scoffed. "Are you deaf as well as foolish?" Jason's fingers twitched around his tranquiller, his vision filling with a too-familiar-green.

'Knock sense into them, or knock them out'. So, Steph led Jason to the little punk on purpose. She couldn't possibly expect him to talk damian into coming back, could she? She was smart enough to know he was the less suitable bat for the job. Did she expect him to get him home forcefully? Hm. He supposed could do her a favor. He might even enjoy it.

"What are you doing here anyway?" He asked and sat himself between damian and the bear , making himself a barrier between the two. "Why do you care?" The tiny satan demanded yet again. There was a certain spark in his eyes jason could tell he was trying, and failing, to hide. Jason shrugged. "Just curious." And he wasn't lying; Damian has run away before to fight villains, mercenaries, and sometimes even heroes behind their backs. But this? Going missing without telling anybody just to... hang with a bunch of animals? Jason didn't get it.

At his answer, the spark in damian's green eyes died. "Go away, Todd." He sneered with hunched shoulders. "Listen here Junior-"

"Go away!" Damian suddenly lashed out, standing with his fists clenched in front of his body, preparing for a fight. "You weren't invited here! You're ruining everything!" Jason remained sitting, though his hand tightened around his belt. He's missing something. Damian was going through some crisis for a reason he didn't know, and Stephanie, damn her, was nowhere to be found.

"Just tell me what's happening, damian." He said cooly.

Damian eyes, damian's sparkless, tired eyes locked with his. For a reason jason didn't know, the younger listened. "Will you leave if I told you?" He whispered defeatedly. "Sure," Jason decided to entertain him, but his hand didn't leave his tranq'.

Damian looked down with an unusual shyness, his foot shuffling against the forest's ground, before he looked up.

"They're my new brothers and sisters." He stated with renewed confidence, and smiled a little when the bear let an unholy screech.

"Your- what?" Jason expected a lot of things, but certainly not that. Definitely not that. Damian didn't seem how understand how strange the situation was. He repeated, like it was obvious. Like it was normal.

"They're my new family."

'But they're a bunch of brainless animals' Jason thought. Out loud, though, he chose to ask: "why do you need another family?"

Damian's long, thick lashes hid his eyes as he tilted his head down, locking eyes with titus as if silently asking for advice. "I… do not belong in father's family. I never did, and i never will. I understood it, and it's only a matter until they- until you realize that too." damian informed blankly.

What? Damian 'the batman's only blood son' Wayne thought Jason, the failed robin, fitted in the family more than him? Jason bit back a shocked laugh. "Kid, they're looking for you right now. They're worried sick-"

"They're afraid. Afraid I'll go on a killing spree now that I have no supervision." he dismissed bitterly, then his head snapped up with a glare. "I wouldn't. Tell them I wouldn't."

'Like they'll believe me'

"...Why did you come here of all places?" Jason asked and tensed when the bear roared loudly. "Do you want a refill, Stephanie?" the boy completely ignored Jason's question and got up with a teapot, circled the boulder to get to the bear- to "Stephanie", apparently- and gracefully poured the warm liquid into his cup. The bear roared again, and this time damian took it as Stephanie being happy and returned to his seat.

Only after he settled down he bothered to answer Jason's question. "…All people know to do is to judge. they decide for you whether you're good enough, kind enough, or if your cruel enough, skilled enough, brutal enough- " the moment he started, damian couldn't seem to know how to stop, "and do you know why that's the problem, Todd? let me spill light on the ugly truth; You will never be good enough for them. For any of them. Because they're people. and all people know is to judge. It doesn't matter how much you will train, or how much blood will you spill -yours or others- or how many people will you've maimed, or how many people you saved- you will keep running and running and running, until your legs give out and you won't be able to breath and you will still. Never. Be. At. They're. Pace."

Damian's scarred fingers- why were they so scarred? - patted alfred's fur distractedly, his eyes burning holes into Jason. "Because they are saints. And you, Todd, are not." And as true as it was, Jason got the feeling damian wasn't talking about him.

"Damian-" Jason's voice cracked as he stared back at His brother. At his kid brother. Because damian was just a little kid. How could Jason, who called himself Gotham's children protector, not protect his little brother from the pain he knew all to well? How could he- how could they all not notice the kid in their house was suffering? How could they let him think his worth was only judged by his actions as robin?

"Animals don't judge, todd. They're just... animals."

'Because it was'

"Damian," jason spoke. The other failed robin peeked curiously at him. "can… can they be my brothers and sisters too? I kinda need a family too." He hoped damian would understand what was he really saying. 'Let me into your new family. Let me into your heart. Give me another chance to be a brother to you. Let me save you from becoming me.' Because as much as damian needed him to, Jason couldn't get himself to say all of that out loud. In some ways, he guessed he wasn't all that different from their old man.

Damian eyes narrowed, then widened almost comically. His fingers fidgeted and his breath hitched.

"Only...uh, only if they say it's ok." Damian stuttered and leaned to put his ear near one of the deers' mouth. Jason held his breath as the deer licked damian's cheek, and watched damian scrunch his nose and wipe it discreetly.

"they allow it.'' damian announced boredly, but jason didn't miss the return of that spark to his shining eyes. "but don't you dare tell any of the others about it."

jason, despite himself, chuckled. "not even tim?"

damian's nosetrills flared. "especially not drake."

mabye they weren't so different after all.

"I'm back!" A cheery voice called from the behind the trees. Oh, so now stephanie bothered to find them.  

"I see the stealth training I gave you finally started to get into your head." damian told her.

"oh, please. if anyone trained me, it was cass." steph rolled her eyes and set a plastic bag on the surface of the boulder. "here, i brought more supplies to your little tea party."

"it is not a tea party! what do you think of me? a mere child?" 

"yes." steph and jason responded at the same time, and locked eyes as damian scoffed, offended.

"knock some sense into them, huh?" jason lifted his brows. stephanie smirked.

"or knock them out. i gave you two options.'' she shrugged innocetly.

"why me?" jason asked her.

"why you what? what are you two talking about?" damian demanded. steph looked them both over, then sighed.

"we... the three of us, 'the dead robins'," the failure robins, jason translated easily. "need to stick together. have each others backs, y'know?"

"i agree." surpisingly enough, damian was the one who said it. "we will never be a match for dick grayson, or cassandra cain. it wouldn't do any of us any good to stand alone in their shadows."

wow. the kid was full of surprises, wasn't he? "I don't know, kid. i think you're on the way to get there." jason then procceded to wrestle his baby brother into a mendatory head ruffle, to which damian tried to bite his way out of. 

"okay, enough with the emotional talk. damian, you're going back to the manor today. we'll figure out a lie about where you've been later." damian tried to protest, but was distracted by knuckles dugging harshly into his skull. "now, how is stephanie the deer?" she cood.

"the deers' names are gilbert and mr. alexander." damian deadpanned, finally free from his ridiculous big brother.

"wait, what? then who's stephanie?" she questioned. jason tilted his head towards the bear, who was napping now. he will have to ask damian later how did he manage to tame a wild bear, but for now he'll just lean back and enjoy the show while alfred the cat cuddled close to him.

"you named a bear after me?!' the former spoiler shouted, outraged.

"it seemed fitting, fatgirl." 

"why, you little--"

[timblum]

Ref Sheet for The Boss!

(Lovely art by @tarphi! :D)

more under the cut :3

DESCRIPTION

The Boss's appearance is like a living silhouette, and often shifts around. Usually has a pretty wide frame. Sometimes he's more solid (see ref. image), but he's usually just a shadow with pupilless white eyes. (Not like Peter Pan's or Dr. Facilier's shadow, he's just pich-black.)

His smile is similar to his eyes, but he only does it rarely to be menacing.

Voice is deep, mostly monotone, and a bit rough.

Never seen wearing anything but his overcoat, tie, fedora, dress pants, and dress shoes, all equally as shadowy as he is.

He disappears behind corners and into shadows, and appears behind shoulders. He enjoys spooking people like this, but he'd never admit that.

BACKGROUND

The Boss is the founder and owner of the Nork York Storage Company (a.k.a. The Warehouse), taking its name from the city it resides in. No, that isn't a typo.

No one knows for sure when or where he and the Warehouse came from, he's just... been here. About 50 years ago (maybe more) he appeared out of nowhere and built a sizable business almost overnight with assets of entirely untraceable origin. Anyone who tries to investigate it either quits or disappears (with one notable exception, Monroe, who became the Warehouse's archivist).

Buys, finds, (and steals) a menagerie of items for the Warehouse (notably animatronics), and is constantly seeking to grow his “collection.”

The Warehouse takes clients from all over; the general public, government offices, crime rings, probably demons too if they pay well.

PERSONALITY

Cold, but not rude or impersonable, just stoic. He's actually pretty charismatic when he wants to be, he is a businessman after all. Despite this, he usually regarded as a very intimidating man.

Knows way too much. He's not omniscient, but if you're talking to him, he knows your address.

Doesn't raise his voice, and almost always keeps his cool.

Does not take kindly to disrespect and will make that known.

POCKETS

Briefcase, tucked into coat.

Cellphone.

Cigars and zippo lighter.

Large key ring for the Warehouse.

Modified Smith & Wesson Model 27 revolver loaded with .38 Special. Never seems to run out of ammo.

STYLE GUIDE

Being literally just a shadow, the Boss can be kinda weird to draw. Using white outlines for clarity or monochrome shading/lighting like in the ref. image is a good idea. Lighting his face is discouraged.

The vagueness of his form is a part of his design though! I'd recommend leaning into it :3.

TRIVIA

Never uses contractions (Can not instead of can't; I will instead of I'll.)

Insists upon translating his name when speaking in another language. To that end, he knows dozens of languages.

Despite The Warehouse's shadiness, his employees are paid well and receive benefits. Not out of compassion, mind you, only to keep them loyal.

Most rumors about him are about his use of blackmail, bribery, and manipulation to get what he needs, but only because he's good at covering his tracks when he uses force.

bonus doodles by @tarphi and @spaghettiandeyeballs (feat. FTR)

[caramelcactus]

Teen William ||FNAF AU||

I can’t believe how invested I became in androids William. He was literally the most stereotypical purple guy before I decided to give this au a makeover, and here I am completely changing William from murderous tyrant into harmless mentally unstable mess and actually GIVING him a background

So

William was born in Hurricane and raised in authoritarian family, though with high standards. He grew up obedient and well behaved kid with perfect grades and just all perfect because of a pressure and control from his overbearing family to be the best. The whole «this is our house our rules you’re going to obey them» lasted only while he was a child. Can't say they were necessarily abusive, but still...meh, emotional pressure sucks. There is actually a deep layered drama going on inside his family behind the impression of “completely normal just strict family" that I’ll explain later because:

1. this post is not about it

2. I don’t want to put too much info

But it’s still worth to mention that it’s a bad marriage and William’s birth was supposed to save/keep it, so in addition to everything William was burdened with a role of a fixer. He faced criticism of his choices and questioning of his motives when his way of thinking didn’t match his parents(aka almost always), and even with guilt tripping to comply with their wishes. I mentioned in very first posts that William has BPD, but his mental health was obviously ignored while he was with his family so he didn’t even know about his condition as it was worsening

During high school era William’s rebellious spirit began to emerge as he started pursuing adrenaline and freedom as well as going against his family’s authority after being suffocated and controlled his entire life. A desire for changes and independency mixed with a self-destructive behavior drew a large wedge in his relationship with family. Without his family knowing he worked on part-time job to earn enough money to stop being financially dependent. At 17 he bought a used motorcycle from one of his acquaintances, left Hurricane and moved to Las Vegas(I needed bigger city for this AU. Hurricane is just... bruh). There he enrolled in uni for the robotics course. William had been working night shift as a security guard to afford life. As he accessed to freedom he became completely unmanageable. He could go for a risky stuff like stealing just to amuse himself

He interned in android industry, and after graduating with the highest ranking degree he was immediately hired by it. During internship he met Henry who was already working there, and they quickly became fast friends. Their bond is very strong, almost like siblings. Henry was the first person who gave William support and whom William could finally trust. Henry was fascinated with William’s talent and willfulness so they teamed up to develop androids with unique realistic designs and highly advanced functionality so it would blow away the market. His skills eventually made him known as one of the most professional engineers and programmers. Springbonnie and Fredbear were the first androids he built, that’s why Spring is so special to him to this day

William is 27-28 years old in present days. Henry is older than him by two years

[mania-sama]

rule #13 - waterfall

Rule #13 - Waterfall - Fish in a Birdcage

➼ information ❧ Jujutsu Kaisen ❧ Pairing: Fushiguro Megumi/Itadori Yuuji ❧ Tags: coma, japanese literature, character study, references to depression, survivor guilt, angst, post-culling games, gross overuse of italics ❧ Summary: Sukuna is successfully exorcised without killing his vessel, but Fushiguro Megumi is left in a comatose state. His soul has a decision to make. ❧ Word Count: 2,022 ❧ Cross-posted from Archive of Our Own ❧ Original post date: 27 December 2023

➼ whumptober 2023 ❧ Day 30: Coma ❧ Previous Day ❧ Next Day ❧ Masterlist

"The boy has not a suggestion of a smile. No human can smile with his fists doubled like that,” Itadori reads, his index finger carefully underlining the words on the page. “It is a monkey. A grinning monkey-face. The smile is nothing more than a puckering of ugly wrinkles.”

Megumi listens intently and waits patiently for Itadori to arrive at the end of the paragraph, where he is sure to take a pause and regather his breath and thoughts. He’ll steal a glance at Megumi, then continue on.

Except this time Itadori does not continue when his finger falls off the page after reading: “ I have never seen a child with such an unaccountable expression.” The blue bookmark, tasseled with intertwining crimson and gold, slides into the crook between the pages, bumping into the inner spine. The light pink and coral book gently collapses to hold the bookmark in place, saving Yuuji’s spot for when he would like to return to it next.

It’s not like him to stop reading so abruptly unless there’s an emergency of some kind. Megumi thinks it's unlikely considering his phone hadn’t gone off, nor had a staff member or fellow sorcerer barged in to alert him of an impending situation.

Itadori rests the book on his lap and methodically runs his thumbs on the edge of the paperback cover. Without looking up at Megumi, he says, “I really hate this author.”

This doesn’t surprise Megumi. Dazai Osamu isn’t known for theatrical and fun yet thought-provoking books like many other authors are famous for. His works are depressive and nihilistic, showcasing the cruel underbelly of human nature. In the months Megumi has gotten to know Itadori, he has always been one to keep his nose facing the sun.

“I don’t want to read this,” Itadori continues. “Just that one paragraph, and I—” He breaks off, his thumb pausing at the base of a flower bud on the cover. “Did you expect to find yourself in these pages?”

Megumi startles, and Itadori swallows thickly.

Did you expect to find yourself in these pages?

It has something to do with the way Megumi never smiled right, always full of anger and resentment and apathy for the man who raised him and the man who didn’t. He rarely attempted to express happiness, and when he did, it looked unnatural and foreign. 

“I… I don’t know,” he admits. His voice echoes as a snowflake falling in a powdered tundra.

Finally, Itadori tears his gaze from No Longer Human. He settles on Megumi, whose chest rises and falls in line with the beeping monitor tracking his heart. Megumi watches the exchange from the edge of the bed. Close to Yuuji, where if he shifted an inch or two over, he would contact Itadori’s knee with his own. Far enough from Yuuji, where they would never accidentally meet in the middle.

“Some of these books are hard to read. Not just because I don’t like them, but I have this feeling that… if you’re listening, and you’re hearing what some of these guys have to say, you won’t want to wake up.” His brown eyes are sincere and solemn, a combination that only he could earnestly achieve. Most people attempt to conceal a part of themselves; it’s a natural part of the human equation. Yet somehow, Itadori bypasses it entirely as if he was made using a different formula altogether.

Sometimes, it feels like Megumi will never fully understand Itadori. Their compositions are too fundamentally opposed.

On his left, his body breathes silently. Occasionally he can hear it as the state of his nostril and throat changes, like mucus build-up or tonsil irritation. Today he suffers from no ailment to cause sound. If he could somehow turn off the heart monitor, he could pretend that the only people in the room are Itadori Yuuji with the light pink and coral book and himself sitting on the edge of a normal bed in a normal room. Yuuji reads to him, tracking the words with his index finger and occasionally stealing warm glances at Megumi. He smiles despite the depressing contents of the book, like being in the same vicinity as Megumi is enough to bring him holistic happiness.

The heart monitor breaks his wistful daydream by beeping at a minimally quicker pace. Itadori turns his head to look at it, tracking the spiking red line like it’s worth anything more than the shitty, noisy machine that it is. His hand had jumped close to the red ‘CALL’ button on the side of the hospital bed. His finger hovers over it uselessly as the monitor slows down to his regular BPM.

Itadori uses the same hand to reach for Megumi, holding his pale, gauntly thin hand that resembles the rest of his atrophying body. Megumi can faintly feel the fingers intertwining with his own, and it simultaneously burns and freezes his skin in a frigid hellfire. When there’s nothing he can do but sit and experience it, he finds himself stuck between enjoying and cursing the sensation.

However, this is the better option for obtaining touch. The incorporeal form he possesses simply passes through living people. Contact dissembles his skin in a flurry of dust and scattered light while sending the other person deep, bone-chilling shivers.

“Wake up,” Itadori says. Their hands are lying together on the bedsheet, one sickly white from lack of a severe lack of natural Vitamin D and the other bone-white from how tightly he’s holding on. “Wake up so I don’t have to read this to you. I’ll read you something else if you like. Anything. But you have to be awake. I want to see you listening to me.”

Megumi wants to do that; listen to Itadori read any book of his choosing — not Dazai Osamu, certainly not his most depressing suicide note of a book — all day long. By itself, it would have been enough to wake him with the first sentence Itadori read of Norwegian Wood. 

The book itself, as Itadori explained when he sat down to explain his plans to Megumi, was chosen because of its inspirational message. The exact opposite of Dazai, really; it’s clear that Itadori was hoping to avoid this point.

“I did research,” Itadori had said, opening to the first page of what will become a stack of read books piled on the other side of Megumi’s hospital bed. “By that, I mean I read a Wikipedia page. Its message is to keep on living, which I think is better than some of the other ones you have on your list. I really hope this works.”

Then it began: “I was thirty-seven then, strapped in my seat as the huge seven-four-seven plunged through dense cloud cover on approach to Hamburg airport.”

If it were so simple, it would have worked.

Megumi doesn’t want to wake up.

It started from the moment he killed his sister. He gave up fighting Sukuna, knowing it would be useless. His power to manipulate the Ten Shadows technique alongside his given techniques and domain overshadowed any restraint he applied to his body’s cursed energy. Nineteen fingers eventually accumulated in his body. Mahoraga gave way to the world-shattering cleave. Tsumiki and Gojo died because of his abilities.

“It wasn’t you who killed them,” Itadori had explained early on, “it was Sukuna.” But Itadori didn’t understand that his words were null from the amount of hypocrisy poisoning them.

If waking up meant he could sit in one place for the rest of his life with Itadori’s voice reading him his favorite books, he’d do it. But being awake means facing the world again. It means confronting the shikigami that took his sister’s and Gojo’s life, as well as the countless others that Sukuna killed along the way. He’d have to return to Jujutsu society and continue this thankless, worthless life of exorcism, or abandon it all and live with the guilt of negligence.

But dying — dying meant losing this. Itadori would be alone, and Megumi would never hear the end of No Longer Human or The Setting Sun. He would never get to The Boy of the Winds which Megumi assumes Itadori is saving for last. He won’t get updates on Itadori’s trials and tribulations with schoolwork and exorcism. Maki comes to visit; he likes to hear her talk and interact with his comatose body. If he dies, there will be no family members left for her to relate to.

That’s the problem, the dichotomy of his situation where he is seemingly stuck between life and whatever comes after. If he could figure out how to die or wake up, he wouldn’t be here, stuck in his hospital room and watching one of only two people alive he cares about come to his room day after day to read him a book from Megumi’s to-be-read list. 

What Megumi does want, and it goes entirely unattested as embarrassing as it is, is to talk to Gojo.

He doesn’t know what Gojo would do in this situation, because he is certain that Gojo would never be in the same position. That man has always been one extreme to the next — to imagine his soul wandering the planes of the living is to ignore him altogether. If he were allowed just one conversation, he knows that Gojo would have him alive or dead before Itadori can finish one more paragraph of No Longer Human.

Then there is the quieter part of him that just wants to see him again. To see Gojo in whatever form he’s taken after death. And he recognizes that Gojo, the person he has modeled his every decision after when Tsumiki could no longer guide him, is the only person he will listen to. Anyone can tell him to live or to die, but Gojo is the only one Megumi knows he won’t fight.

It’s not that Gojo has made every correct decision in his life, but he is the closest thing Megumi has ever gotten to a father.

There is a saying: like father, like son. For the longest time, he had been unable to comprehend that phrase. He and Gojo aren’t blood-related. During his living days, Megumi didn’t have the time or motivation to reflect on the man who raised him. He understood that Gojo was the one around, his benefactor, and his teacher. His emotional capacity was unable to handle much more than that.

One year and three months and a stack of books have given Megumi plenty of time to reflect, and he is now intimately familiar with what it means when someone says like father, like son.

Not one person knows him better than Gojo Satoru.

“Okay,” Itadori relinquishes, letting go of Megumi’s hand. “Okay. Another day. I’ll let you have another day.”

Megumi doesn’t know how many more days either of them have left in them. It’s been a year and three months, and so far, Gojo Satoru has not come to visit to guide his soul as he once guided his life. It could be retribution for killing his only father-like figure, but he has this feeling that Gojo doesn’t blame him for it, no matter how much Megumi holds it against himself.

Like father, like son. Yet, the father raises the son to be better than himself.

Leaning back in his chair, Itadori reopens the light pink and coral book. In the fold of space between life and death, there are books and there is Itadori Yuuji. He cannot have these individually, nor can he hold them close. It’s a form of torment, a reminder that he is not meant to stay.

He listens from his seat at the edge of the bed as Itadori takes a deep, aching breath. He reads to the end of the prologue. When he’s finished, he looks at Megumi for a long time. His finger traces the inner spine between the thin pages.

Itadori continues with the first chapter: “Mine has been a life of such shame. I can’t even guess myself what it must be to live the life of a human being.”

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Halloween! More of Momma Hera pls

continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37

Sally isn't the only mortal she's fallen for - she's had plenty of legitimately half blood children that remained unclaimed.

But she is the only mortal that Hera has trusted to raise her godly child.

Percy isn't her first child with Poseidon, but she was able to raise Aphrodite in secret in the waves' depths and pass her off as springing from Zeus's blood in the sea.

Amphitrite and Triton make things complicated. Hera does not believe she could do the same with the son growing inside of her without getting caught.

She thinks of the girl from New York, who is daring and loyal and sparks with a brightness Hera has never been able to bottle or steal.

She thinks of Sally, and gives her and Poseidon's son to a mortal woman to raise.

[therulerofallpotatos]

WIP Tag Game

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I was tagged by @cosmic-lullaby and @iamfandomcrazy!

Oh boy ok this will take a second. My files are very organized. Let's simplify and go by fandom.

The Addams Family

The Multi-Chaps

All Roads Lead to Rome

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 3 raw draft, 4, 5, Notes, Notes General

2. I Bit Him so He's Mine

Hyde Wednesday AU Notes, Chapter One, I Bit Him so He's Mine Tyler's POV, I Bit Him so He's Mine Wednesday's POV original document

3. I See You

I See You chp 1, I See You Notes, I See You Prologue

4. Love Letter AU Chp 1

One-Shots

5. Day 6 Mind Control hurts Wednesday whumptober 2023

6. Day 10 Body Swap au Whumptober 2023

7. vamp tyler scrap

The Series

8. Tyler Raised By Werewolves AU

My Best Friend's Brother Chapter 1

My Best Friend's Brother Chapter 2

Enid Sinclair

My Boyfriend's Sister

Tug of War

The Blood Moon

9. Tyler's Bad Year

Day 24 Failed to Escape

Day 25 nightmare flashback why didn't you save me whumptober 2023

Day 26 magical exhaustion or injury curse whumptober 2023

Day 27 forgotten locked away whumptober 2023

Day 28 hair pulling oxygen deprivation sweating whumptober 2023

Day 29 the easy way or the hard way bargaining forced to choose whumptober 2023

Day 30 possession mind games coma whumptober 2023

Day 31 PTSD headaches crying

10. Her Monster Verse

Her Monster Sequel Notes

Her Monster Verse

11. Just a Couple of Teenage Tearaways

4 October Outreach Day

5 November the 18th

12. Soulmates Aren't Found

13. Vampire Tyler

5 Times Nevermore Caught Wednesday with a Bandage and One Time Donovan Caught Her

5 Times Tyler Nearly Outed Himself and One Time He Revealed Himself

5 plus one

14. Warning: She Bites verse

Warning She Bites Sequel Notes

15. Weyler Week 2023

Day 2 If the Good Die Young I Want to Live Forever

16. Designated Dick Dealer Sequel

17. Til Death

Til Death Part 2

Til Death Part 3

Notes (These are all pure outlines unconnected to anything else)

18. X File Crossover

19. Wylercest au

20. Wednesday isn't a ghost au

21. Tyler finds Fran au

22. Tyler deadname Stacy au

23. Tumblr Prompt Ask Amnesia au

24. Tumblr Posts (collection of prompts i have on my blog)

25. trans tyler post top surgery romcom au

26. The Blood Oath Notes

27. Tale of Two Wednesdays

28. Steal your boyfriend au

29. Series of Dhalias au

30. Secret Identity not so secret au

31. scene scraps

32. scene scraps (2)

33. Refusing the Call General Notes

34. raven drunk sex fantasy au

35. Pregnant Wednesday and Panicking Tyler au

36. Tyler Pizza Boy au

37. mtf tyler x lesbian wednesday au

38. Just unlocked missing time au

39. hybernation au

40. hostage au notes

41. heat sex fic but it's only aftercare

42. grindr au

43. ghoul tyler au

44. Ghost Wednesday au

45. Faux Monsterfucker au

46. Enid mtf knots Tyler ftm

47. Donovan Wednesday morning after

48. cucking xavier au

49. clone wednesday au

50. bianca x tyler siren call au

Okay I'm losing patience. I have after this files for:

Crossovers

Encanto

Hannibal

Harry Potter

MCU

mermaid

Original Works

Teen Wolf

The Umbrella Academy

Twilight

Until Dawn

I will include my wips for Until Dawn and if anyone wants to hear what's in the others, I will make a new post.

Until Dawn

Multi-Chaps

51. Blackwood Mountain

Blackwood Mountain Outline

Blackwood Mountain Part 1

BM PI Chp 1

BM PI Chp 2

BM PI Chp 3

tagging: @obsidianpen, @mister-tom-a-dildo-lover, @mistressvera, @realisticintentions, @realmermaid333, @suchaladyy, @leavesdriftinginthewind, @dispatchvampire, @dark-visitors

[broiderie]

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 27

Well... apparently having the two weeks from hell means that I go on a writing spree. I still have like half a notebook plus some more that's already written. I'll probably type some more up tomorrow. For now, I'm exhausted - and a little drunk - so this is as far as I got today.

Warnings: cursing, fluff, and show level talking about illegal shit.

Don't steal my shit. This is the only place it's posted. If you see it somewhere else, it's stolen.

Angel was the last one inside. He rolled the stained glass door closed behind him. 

Once everyone was seated, Bishop called the meeting to order. “Before we handle club business, we have some charter shit to discuss and bring to a vote.” He looked at Marcus. “Sorry, Padrino. New information.”

Marcus nodded. 

Bishop lit a cigarette and leaned forward. “It was brought to our attention that there is another tunnel to Mexico right in our backyard.” He paused and looked at Angel. “Tell them.” 

Angel took a deep breath and leaned forward as well, folding his hands on the table. Coco and Gilly both nodded at him. “When we raided the redneck ranch, Bishop sent us chasing Dennis. We told you he got away because he was shooting at us, and he did.” He paused and looked at Gilly. “It was also because while we were chasing him, Gilly and the Prospect fell into a hole in the ground. We stopped to pull them out. At first we thought it was some sort of animal den, but when we threw them down a light we found…”

Gilly took up the story. “It was a tunnel. A serious tunnel. We thought it was abandoned, but I went back to cover it up the next day and decided to check it closer.” He shrugged. “That branch was abandoned, but it led to another one that was in use. Working lights, supply stashes - everything. The Southern end ends at a locked hatch about a half mile into Mexico, but the Northern end -”

Bishop finished it, “The Northern end comes out in the cellar of the Ariza house.”

Every eye turned to Riz.

He sighed. “That tunnel is older than I am. My grandfather helped dig it. It belongs to Vickie. She uses it to help her girls. You know most of them don’t have papers. That’s what I was doing this afternoon. One of the girls hadn’t seen her baby in weeks, so I brought her mom and the baby to visit.”

Taza shook his head. “You should have told us.”

Riz sat forward. “It’s not affecting the club at all. I didn’t think it mattered.”

Hank growled. “Didn’t matter? And if you’d been caught using it? You’re an officer of this club. They’d never believe we didn’t know about it.” 

Bishop nodded sternly. “Hank’s right. You put us all in danger. We’re a club. Everything comes to the table, brother. You risked exposing us all without consulting us.”

“It’s not even my tunnel! There’s no action for the club!” Riz asserted.

Megan caught his eye. “There might not be any action, Riz, but there was risk. Every move we made would be suspect if someone found that tunnel that wasn’t us.” She shook her head. “We’d have lost the guns, the deal with the L.O. - everything.”

Taza agreed. “And it wouldn’t have stopped with our charter, brother. Every charter would be subject to suspicion. Probably even a R.I.C.O. investigation.”

Riz slammed himself backwards in his chair angrily.

Bishop raised a hand to forestall any more comments. “We need to vote this. Riz - step out.”

“This is bullshit!” Riz exploded and shoved himself back from the table before stomping out.

Megan shivered at his tone and reached to rub Rex’s ears under the table to hide her shaking hands. Hank slid her chair closer to his and his arm around her shoulders soothingly. It was only family. He could afford the affection in Templo.

Bishop ashed his cigarette and sighed. “We have to decide how serious this offense is.” He looked around and met everyone’s eyes. “Do we strip his patch?”

Megan sucked her breath in sharply but stayed silent. She didn’t have a say in this. She bit down hard on her bottom lip as Hank soothed her a bit by running his hand up and down her spine.

Creeper sighed and ran a hand over his bald head. “Man - it was stupid, but I don't think it was malicious. Riz would never risk the club on purpose.” 

Coco lit a fresh smoke. “That’s true, but he still did it.”

Bishop sat back and sipped whiskey, but stayed out of the discussion.

Hank shook his head. “But stripping his patch? Riz lives for this club. It’s why we voted him Secretario.”

Taza agreed. “But we also can’t trust him with that job if he’s not considering the club when he makes his decisions - especially when he does something like this.”

Gilly nodded. “I agree.”

Bishop finally spoke. “So do we let him keep his patch, but strip his rank then?”

Taza nodded. “I’ll second that idea. Strip his rank. He’s left a full member with his vote, but not an officer.”

“And not eligible to hold office again for at least two years,” Hank agreed.

Nods went around the table. Bishop met everyone’s eyes. “Alright then. Let’s vote.” 

The vote was unanimous. Taza stood to call Riz in, where Bishop informed him of the decision made by the club. 

Riz drew his belt knife and cut the stitching that held his rank flash to his kutte and threw it on the table. 

Bishop called for nominations for the position and it came to a unanimous vote that Angel took the flash - with Riz abstaining from the vote with Bishop’s blessing.

Once everything had settled, Bishop looked to the new Secretario. “Alright. Charter shit handled. Now - what did Adelita say?”

Angel smirked a bit. “La Princessa was right. Adelita and her people are the perfect ones to hide and keep those weapons for us. We saw their current camp. It’s impossible to find without the coordinates. We were right on top of it before we even knew it was there and their guards had us in sight long before that. And every mother fucker there is deadly. Kids included.” Angel lit a cigarette. “We just need to get them shipping details. The barrels can come into the port at Ensenada to a shell company that EZ has the details for. The L.O. will move it, assemble and guard. We just play delivery boys and deal with the buyers. L.O. gets twenty percent. SAMCRO gets five percent. Seventy-five percent of the profit goes to the club.”

Marcus grinned. “Everyone wins.”

Bishop chuckled. “Everyone wins. Any questions?”

Megan raised her hand and looked to Angel. “Did Adelita find out who was following us in the market?”

“Nah. She put a tail on them, but the kid lost them.” Angel shrugged. “She wants to keep meets to a minimum until we either figure it out or the first shipment gets here.”

Bishop nodded. “Any objection to Angel staying the go-between?” he asked before looking around. When there weren’t any, he nodded again. “Alright then. Any other business?” When no one had any, he banged the gael. “Good. We’re done here.”

Angel, Coco, and Gilly rose to leave with Riz right on their tail looking pissed. 

Creeper sighed and pushed himself up. “They’ll be in the cage before sundown.”

Bishop nodded. “Probably, but that’s on them.”

“I’ll go supervise -” Creep agreed. 

Bishop grinned. “You’re on your own, brother. We’ve got paperwork and Hank’s got a date.”

That made Creeper laugh and wink at Megan. “Alright. Fair enough.”

After he left, the elder members of the club all turned their eyes to Megan and Hank. “Hank, brother, don’t you have somewhere to be?” Bishop asked. 

Hank laughed. “It’s all planned out. We can leave whenever mi reina is ready.”

Megan giggled and stood up. “Alright. We’re going. Don’t spend all of your time gossiping about us.” She petted Rex’s ears again. “His harness and leash are behind the bar. I’ll have EZ fill his bowls. Should I leave the Templo door cracked so he can get out or do you want it closed?”

Taza laughed and stood to hug her tightly. “The pooch will be fine. We’ll be home late, so don’t wait up for us. Enjoy yourself, Chica.” He kissed her forehead and she felt his lips move as he muttered something in Apache against the crown of her head.

Megan hugged him back and smiled. “We will. Have fun doing paperwork.” She grinned as she went to hug her tíos too. They both said their goodnights before Megan gave the command for Rex to stay with Taza and joined Hank at the door to Templo.

Hank led the way to the car with a grin. “Are you excited to get to ride the bike again, mi amore?”

Megan nodded enthusiastically and slid into the passenger seat as Hank held the door open for her. “I really am. I love my car - but nothing beats riding the bike.”

“Good. We’ll head home to change before we head out.”

“Where are we going?” Megan asked as he joined her in the front seat.

“I promised you dinner and dancing, mi reina. I haven’t forgotten.”

At the ranch, Hank hung up their kuttes when they came through the door. Then he tugged her close by her waist to plant a kiss on her lips. When he finally came up for air, he couldn’t help but smile at the slightly dazed look on her face. “Alright, mi princessa. I’m going to do something I normally wouldn’t do.”

“What’s that?” she asked a bit breathlessly.

He tilted her chin up so she’d meet his eyes. “I’m going to make a request for your outfit. Will you please wear a dress for tonight? I don’t care which one - but you deserve a nice night and the dress will help with that.”

She smiled up at him. “Alright. But - you have to let me surprise you.”

He chuckled. “Going to short circut my brain?”

“Hopefully.”

“Alright, mi amore. Let me grab my stuff and I’ll get ready in Taza’s room.”

Hank grabbed the hanging suit bag from the closet and smiled. “You need anything before I go, mi princessa?” he asked, pulling her left hand to his mouth to kiss her crown ring. 

Megan smiled at him. “Will you help me change my earrings? I want to wear my pearls.”

“Of course, mi reina.” Hank carefully led her over to her dressing table and switched her earrings from the feathers he’d bought her to her crowned pearls. The backs were just too fiddly for her to do with the soft cast on. “Anything else?”

Megan touched the necklace she was wearing that matched Taza’s. “Can you help me swap this one out for grandmother’s pearls before you go?”

“Are you sure, mi amore? You haven’t taken it off since Taza gave it to you. You could leave it on,” Hank said, rubbing her shoulders gently.

“I’m sure. I’ve got my ring from Papa on. The pearls will look nice with the dress.” She smiled at him in the mirror. 

Hank nodded and carefully worked the slide knots to loosen the turquoise and silver piece. He took the pearls from the wooden carved box on the vanity and carefully fastened the gold clasp. “There. Beautiful.” 

Megan touched them and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He picked up his suit bag and kissed her softly. “Call if you need me.”

Hank quickly rinsed off the road dust in the hall shower before pulling the black suit that he usually wore to mass with Mama out. It was still pressed from the last time Mama had done it. He pulled the white collared shirt on over his wife beater and fussed with how high to button it. He couldn’t decide if the tie was a good idea. He finally decided against it and left his collar unbuttoned as well. 

As he was fixing his hair, there was a knock at the door. He quickly went to answer it, calling out “I got it” so Megan wouldn’t come out.

EZ stood there with the biggest bouquet of mixed wild flowers and roses Hank could order in a vase with a grin on his face. 

“Any trouble with the pick up?” Hank asked.

“Nah.” EZ handed him the flowers and a small white box.

“Good. Get going before she gets curious,” Hank told him with a grin.

EZ laughed quietly and threw his hands up in surrender for leaving Hank to finish getting ready. 

In the bedroom, Megan also had quickly rinsed the tunnel dust off in the shower without getting her hair wet. She couldn’t do much with it with the soft cast still on, so she pinned her twin braids into a knot at the base of her skull. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best that she could do without Taza there to help. Besides, this way her helmet wouldn’t knock it too badly.

She slipped into the shorts Letty had bought her for dresses and figured out how to make the sticky bra work after a quick text chain with the teen herself. Then she stood in front of the dresses in her closet and froze. 

Which dress? Hank had said “nice” but what did that mean, really? Before she could get too deeply in her head about it, Megan called Diana.

“Hola, Sweetheart. Everything alright?” Diana asked through the phone.

“Hey Tía. Sorry. I forgot you might still be driving. Everything’s fine. Just having a bit of a fashion trouble,” Megan assured her.

“You’re fine, Sweetie. I was just about to text you. We just got inside. What’s the matter?” Diana asked.

Megan could hear rustling as her aunt sat things down. “Well, Hank and I are finally going out tonight, but I’m not sure what to wear. He asked for dress because we’re going dancing.”

Tía Diana chuckled. “Ah. I understand. Can’t figure it out?”

“Yeah. Any chance you could help me?”

“Of course, Bebita. What’s Hank wearing?” she asked.

“He took his suit bag to change in Papa’s room.”

“Ah. Perfect. So he’s wearing a suit. What did the doctor say? Do we need to work around your sling?” Megan could hear the change as Diana sat down somewhere.

“No sling,” Megan told her.

“Beautiful. Alright, Sweetheart, swap me to video call so I can see what we’re working with.”

Megan carefully swapped the phone to a video call to show Diana her packed closet. “He said ‘nice’. What does that mean?”

Diana chuckled. “Good question. Which of these have you already worn?”

Diana walked Megan through narrowing down her choices. Both of the final contenders were very different. One was black with tiny spaghetti straps and a back that started right beneath her tattoo. The v-neck allowed her jewelry to be the spotlight as did the plain black fabric. The skirt went to just below her knees and was loose enough to be able to get on the bike.

The second dress was a deep red. The skirt was short, but full and would make a statement if they actually went dancing. It had a sweetheart neckline and straps that went off the shoulder. The back though, was where it really shined. The dress was backless to the small of her back, putting her tattoo on full display as well as a lot of her skin. 

Either dress would pair nicely with the classic black ballet flats that were her only dress shoe option until after her quince.

“How do I figure out which to wear, Tía?” Megan asked, staring down at her two choices spread on her bed.

“How do you want the night to end?” Diana asked. “That should give you an idea of how daring you want to be.”

Megan felt her cheeks warm as she thought about Hank’s promises for after she was out of her sling.

Diana laughed. “That face screams red dress, Sweetheart. I left a lipstick that should be great with it on your dressing table along with an eyeliner pencil and mascara. I know you know how to use those even if you don’t do it often.” She smiled. “You don’t need much makeup anyway, Princessa.”

“Thank you, Tía. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

Diana waved her off. “You’d have been fine, Sweetheart. Send me a picture when you’re dressed.”

They said their goodbyes and Megan hurried to use the makeup products Diana had left her before sliding into the red dress and flats. She smoothed her hair and took a few pictures with her phone to send to her tía and Letty. As a last minute decision, she also sent one to Taza. 

A moment later, her phone dinged with a text from her father. She checked it. “You look beautiful, Chica. Enjoy your night.”

Megan smiled and tucked her phone, wallet, and lipstick into a small black purse. She was ready. 

Hank had just slipped into his dress boots and suit jacket when his phone chimed three times from the table. It was his personal cell, not the club burner, so he didn’t worry too much about the texts being anything that could mess up his night. He laughed as he realized they were texts from Taza, Bishop and Marcus. He opened Bishop’s first. 

“Take your gun, brother. YOu might need it to keep the pendejos under control. She’s fucking beautiful.” Hank chuckled, but checked his ankle holster for his back up anyway. 

The text from Marcus simply said “you better do this right,” and Hank couldn’t help but smile. As the only married Mayan currently in Santo Padre, Marcus was certainly a man with strong opinions on how his god daughter should be treated. 

Taza’s text was a little different. “Be sure to tell her how beautiful she looks. Show her how a princessa should be treated. And lock the damn bedroom door!”

Hank laughed. He only replied to Taza’s message since he knew they were all together. “I’ll take good care of her. I promise. And yes - I’ll lock the door.” He slipped his phone into his jacket pocket before he settled it across his broad shoulders and reached for the flowers and box that EZ had dropped off for him.

He knocked on the bedroom door gently. “Mi reina? I take it from the text message I just got from Taza that you’re ready. Can I come in?”

“Come on in,” Megan called through the wooden door.

Hank opened the door carefully with his full hands and stepped into the bedroom.

Megan was standing in the middle of the room fiddling with her purse. She looked up and smiled as Hank came in.

His breath caught in his throat and his jaw dropped. He barely held onto his gifts. “Dios mío, eres tan hermosa, mi reina. How’d I get so lucky?”

Megan’s smile widened. “Usually when you slip into Spanish, I did good, so I’ll take that as a compliment.

Hank chuckled. “You’re beautiful, Megan. So God damned beautiful that my brain shuts down.” He stepped forward and offered her the flowers.

“Thank you! They’re beautiful. My first real flowers…” Megan bent to smell them with a giggle. 

“There will be plenty more, mi amore. I promise.”

Megan sat the vase on her dresser and fussed with them a moment before turning back to him. “You look great too.”

He smiled and offered her his hand so he could pull her close. He gently kissed her knuckles and smiled. “I got you one more thing.” He offered her the small white cardboard box that was tied with a green ribbon.

Megan took it, stepping closer to him to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

“Open it.”

She pulled the lid off the box to find a delicate pearl bracelet to match the rest of her jewelry. “Oh Hank… It’s gorgeous.”

He took it from the box and showed her where the clasp had an H and an M entwined engraved on it before fastening it around her left wrist. He pressed a kiss to the skin of her inner wrist with a smile. “Ready for a real date?”

“With you? So ready,” Megan said with a smile. 

Hank helped Megan into her armored leather jacket and helmet before putting his own on. EZ had also detailed Hank’s bike during Templo and dropped it off with the flowers and jewelry. It was parked out front. 

Hank mounted his bike and helped Megan to settle behind him. He savored how close she was to him and felt her arms come around his waist tightly before he started the bike and headed for town. 

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