#jays brain journal

[acexsmhking]

𝐅𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞

(𝗮𝗱𝗷.) 𝗹𝗲𝘄𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗲

╰┈➤ Sending the Creeps nudes

Summary: Shared Head-canons for GN!Reader sending the Creeps nudes while they’re out and about or working! .. minus Kate, Jason, Evan/HABiT, Jeff, Nina & Alex

Warning(s): 18+ content, mentions of sexual activity, GN!Reader, mentions of gore, mentions of murder, mentions of cannibalism, FEM!Reader for Jane, Clockwork & MALE!Reader for Jay

Tim Wright

Tim had been sitting at the coffee shop near his therapist office. Wanting a moment to treat himself to some little cakes and write in his journal before hurrying back home to you. He’d been gone for days, desperately needed to see his therapist since this last trip left him.. a little shaken.

But he missed you dearly, it was no surprise when seeing your notification he immediately opened it. Wanting to text you that he picked you up a treat and would be home soon. That went completely out the window as he blankly stared at the photo infront of him. Only getting half the mind to shift in his seat to protect his phone when the barista called someone’s name.

“You are such a tease.. I’ll be home in 5” Let’s just say maybe Tim sped a little than he should’ve gettin back home to you.

Brian Thomas

Brian was over at Tim’s, helping him settle down after they’d spent the past 2 weeks in those damn woods.. again. He’d just settled Tim in bed, tucking him and leaving a cup of cold water on his bedside so he could find it first thing when woke up. It wasn’t easy being such an amazing husband— best friend. He had just gotten in the car, a tired sigh finally leaving his lips. Letting his body sink against the car seat. He was tired, hungry, and wanted his dearest partner.

Think of the devil and he shall arrive, a buzz catching his attention as he lazily pulled out his phone. A tired smile on his lips as he noticed your name in the notifications. It took his brain a long second to actually process what he was looking at. A large gulp stuck in his throat.. you looked.. inviting to put it politely.

“I missed you too, doll ;)” Was all he sent before happily, and far more awake, driving home.

Tobias Rogers

Toby was leaning against a wall in an alley, freshly coming out of your favorite bakery after he’d done some.. hunting. Covered in smell of dirt and woods but unbothered by the stares of patrons as he put in an order. One of the very very few times he actually puts himself around.. people. But you’d been craving some nasty fast food recently. And who was he to deny his most precious treasure of what they want? So here he was getting as much as he could possibly manage to carry.

He was slouched on a chair waiting for everything to be done. “Resting his feet” as you’d often patronize him about doing. Head resting on the back of the chair, cracking his neck to do so. Something you’d also correct him on but it felt so good and a little weird in its own way.

He was just about to text you when you sent a photo, it took him a minute to even realize what you sent. He looked you up and down over and over, posed and dolled up on the bed waiting for him. He quickly blinked the haze from his eyes before looking around. “Come home soon<3” You could bet your ass he was on his way.

Jay Merrick (only M!)

Jay was slumped at his desk, or was it Alex’s? He didn’t know. His head was ringing, eyes dazed with a soreness in his bones. He stretched, cracking his back and neck trying to get a knot out. Albeit it, uselessly. As he looked around himself, camera film, pages and documents scattered around he gave up the idea of trying to remember what the hell even happened. Far too use to the memory loss to care. He quickly unlocked his phone, the bright screen blinding him for just a moment before he opened your contacts. Thankfully you’d grown less panicked over time as he disappeared, sending messages mostly about your day to keep him updated. He smiled as he scrolled down, carefully reading each message.

However.. the last message you sent definitely caught his attention the best. Steam from the shower wrapped around your body, the camera just a little fogged itself but still managing to capture your body perfectly. Hell, he thought it was perfect. Looking at the flex of your muscles in your pose, eyes wondering down your abdomen. Safe to say, Jay paid no attention to Alex as he scurried home to you.

Helen Ottis

He’d just finished organizing things in his ‘studio’. Ensuring the paint was stored properly and hidden so no.. happy accidents happened. Along with managing to finish a painting after about a month, art block is truly horrible. He just couldn’t figure out how he wanted to conclude it. He was carefully wiping down his tools and washing his hands when he heard his notification go off. Of course, it was you. Had to be you. You were the only person he talked to.. and didn’t, discard. Helen opened your message just as he gently place a brush back in place.

You’d sent a few loving messages before he finally saw the picture you’d sent. You were laid out, perfectly posed as the sunlight his you just right. No doubt a masterpiece you’d taken quite some time trying to capture. And who was he to just let your efforts go to waste? He’d make sure he’d capture you, before rewarding you. “I’m on my way, I hope you know what will occur?”

Clockwork (only F!)

She was actually right in her study at home, tinkering on a little gift she wanted to surprise you with. After all, your anniversary was coming up and Natalie always made you some sort of animal to describe the year together. She thought, hoped really, that it properly displayed her deep affections. Plus, animals are cute! Just as she was feeling around for a screwdriver did she hear her phone. Brow raised and she reached to check it, not like she had many contacts.. or really anything expect you. She chuckled seeing you’d sent her numerous things, even though she was right down the hall. You were too cute and thoughtful about her work.

She opened your text last, assuming it was probably just about dinner. And oh boy was it. You were sat on the dining table, in a cute slip on dress you had just recently bought. Cute frills, a few bows and of course, it barely concealed anything. Nat could feel her mouth water as she quickly, and carefully, stood eyes still glued to her phone. Just you wait.

Jane (only F!)

She was sat in her office, typing away at a report for a new case. Some unholy thing recently being discovered and obviously it needed to be dealt with. Not to mention her forever going hunt for the Woods. Almost everyone else had left aside from her, on sight doctors and scientists as well as her level-classed co-workers. Slaving over the same grueling work.. typing. A steady ache seeped into her back, she wanted nothing more than to just get home. Dealing with so many things.. she was far too afraid than she really said leaving you alone. Sure, you were technically always being watched. But she wasn’t watching you — that scared her. She perked just a little seeing your name on her phone screen. A little “do you like it?” Attached under your name that caught her attention. Of course, she was quick to answer you, opening her phone. She needed a break from a white and black screen.

And you provided the perfect distraction, completely dolled up. Showing off a new dress you had bought, clearly some new shoes too. Immediately she felt hot, her doll going out spending her money. What could make a spouse hornier? She stared before hurriedly checking and saving her work, hastily shoving things into her bag before rushing out. “On my way.”

: ̗̀➛ Omg sorry for not posting in a while, now that my finger is finally healed I wanted to finish this up! I have a few older projects I want to work including Chapter 3 of RDR!Toby and hopefully something new for you all! Love you all so much

— Ace

[nocturnebite]

──── 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇

── 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 they're the only ones who remember. 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 it takes forever. 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 it hurts. They will always love you, no matter what.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: bf! ot7 x sick!female! reader 𝒕𝒘: fluff, reader losing memory, lost love making a comeback, slight arguing 𝒘𝒄: 400-500ish per member (about 3.5k total)

𝒂𝒔𝒉'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: this was originally the whole inspiration behind my "when we were whole fic".. so don't come at me for them being similar.. i wrote these then got obsessed with the concept and decided to write a whole a$$ fic ab it. but i couldn't let these go to waste.. ENJOY LOVES

Heeseung – “The Worst Before the Better”

The doctor’s voice echoes in Heeseung’s head even days later: “It can be treated… but it will likely get worse before it gets better.”

Heeseung had clung to the word treated like a lifeline. But no one had prepared him for this — for the way your memory began unraveling even faster, slipping through your fingers like water no matter how tightly he tried to hold you together.

You sit curled on the couch now, wrapped in a blanket and staring at him like he’s someone you used to know. Heeseung kneels in front of you, voice calm, though his hands tremble as they rest gently on your knees. “It’s me, baby. I’m right here. You’re safe.”

But your lips quiver and your voice cracks, a frightened whisper: “I remember you yelling at me. I remember us screaming. Why were we always fighting?”

Heeseung’s heart clenches. You don’t remember the quiet mornings or your late-night giggles tucked under the sheets. You don’t remember the way he kissed your nose every time he walked past you or the playlist he made you on your anniversary. No — right now, your brain has brought up every moment he regrets.

You don’t see the man who held your hand through every dizzy spell. You see the version of him from that night — when he got overwhelmed, when he raised his voice and you cried and he hated himself after. The memory has taken root now, front and center, and it’s all you can grasp.

Heeseung swallows the lump in his throat and rests his forehead on your knee, voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared… that I was losing you even then. I didn’t know how to handle it. But I’ve never stopped loving you. Not for one second.”

You stare down at him, and he knows you’re trying. He sees the pain in your eyes. The fear. He wishes he could erase it all, take every bad memory and shoulder it himself.

When you start crying, something inside him shatters. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I don’t know why I can’t remember the good things. I want to— I want to remember how much I loved you.”

Heeseung climbs up beside you on the couch and pulls you into his chest. You tremble in his arms like you might break. “You still love me,” he whispers. “It’s still in you. Even if your brain’s having trouble finding it, your heart knows me. You came back to me once. You will again.”

You fall asleep in his arms that night, tear-streaked and quiet. Heeseung stays awake, staring at the ceiling. The meds are supposed to help eventually. But what if they don’t? What if this is all that’s left?

No — he won’t let that happen.

The next morning, he begins keeping a memory journal for you. Pages and pages of everything beautiful. Photos. Receipts. Drawings. Letters.

So even if you forget again, the proof of your love won’t disappear.

Jay – “Pieces of You”

Jay had been strong through the whole thing — or at least, that’s what he told everyone. Quiet. Collected. Devoted. But when the doctor told him your treatment would make things worse before they got better, something inside him cracked.

And now, he’s watching the person he loves most unravel in front of him — not from the illness, but from the side effects of the cure.

You forget simple things first — what day it is, whether you’ve eaten. But then the darkness gets deeper. You flinch when he raises his hand to reach for something too quickly. You ask him why he’s here. You pull away from his touch. “We broke up, didn’t we?” you ask one night, shaking. “Why are you still here?”

Jay freezes.

You remember the fights.

You remember the distance.

You remember the hurt.

But not the apologies. Not the nights he stayed up rubbing your back until you fell asleep. Not the way he held you through every breakdown, even when you screamed at him to leave.

He grips the edge of the kitchen counter until his knuckles are white. “We didn’t break up,” he says softly, trying to stay steady. “I was a jackass sometimes. But I never left. I never wanted to.”

You bite your lip. “Then why does it hurt so much?”

He walks over and kneels in front of you, voice low and thick with emotion. “Because love isn’t always soft. Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes we make mistakes. But I’ve spent every day since then trying to be better for you.”

You’re crying now, shaking your head. “I’m scared, Jay. What if I only ever remember the bad stuff?”

Jay’s jaw clenches, and for a second, the weight of it all nearly topples him. But he takes a deep breath and gathers you into his arms, wrapping you up like he’s trying to hold your entire world together. “Then I’ll remind you of the good things. Every single day. I’ll rebuild everything you forget until you see me — really see me — again.”

He starts small. Playing your favorite songs in the kitchen. Making your favorite snacks. Wearing that hoodie you always used to steal. He even pulls out the little notebook you wrote him love notes in during your early days — and watches your eyes linger on the pages like they almost spark something.

Even if some days you cry and ask him to leave.

He never does.

Even if some nights you wake up in a panic and ask where you are.

He holds you until you fall asleep again, whispering stories about your first date, your inside jokes, the time you made fun of his hair and then kissed him ten seconds later.

And slowly, he sees the pain start to crack.

One day, your eyes catch his — just for a second — and something in your expression softens. And you say, “You’re… always here.”

Jay smiles, broken but proud. “Yeah. I always will be.”

Jake – “The Breaking Point”

Jake had never thought love could feel so helpless.

When the doctor told him the treatment would worsen your memory before improving it, he nodded and held your hand tightly, trying to stay hopeful. “We’ll get through it,” he promised. And he meant it.

But no one warned him what it would feel like when you started forgetting him — not just his name or your anniversary, but who he was to you.

Some nights, you woke up terrified, pushing him away, whispering, “Why are you here? I don’t know you.”

Some days, you’d cry uncontrollably, begging him to leave, convinced he was just another person who’d hurt you in the past.

And then there were the worst days — when you remembered just enough to hate him. The bad fights. The cold silences during your rough patches. The time he left you crying in the living room after a terrible argument because he didn’t know how to fix things back then.

“I remember you walking out on me,” you say one afternoon, voice hoarse and flat. “I remember how lonely that felt.”

Jake’s chest tightens. He sits on the edge of the bed, hands folded between his knees. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to help you yet. I thought giving you space was the answer. But it was the worst decision I ever made.”

You glance at him, skeptical. “Then why are you here now?”

Jake lifts his gaze to meet yours, eyes glassy. “Because I learned. I messed up, but I learned. And I’m not going anywhere again — not even if you forget me every single day.”

He sets his phone down on the nightstand. It’s been recording short videos for weeks — tiny moments, little clips. You and him dancing in the living room. Laughing in the car. The way your eyes sparkle when you tease him.

“I made you these,” he says gently. “In case it gets bad. So you’d see how much I love you. How happy we were.”

You reach for the phone with trembling hands and press play.

And for the first time in days, Jake watches your expression soften. A faint smile tugs at your lips. Tears gather in your eyes — not from fear, but from something deeper. Recognition. Emotion.

A whisper escapes you: “I think… I remember this.”

Jake can’t hold it in anymore. He crawls into bed and pulls you close, burying his face in your shoulder. He doesn’t cry often, but tonight, the tears fall freely.

“I’ll remind you as many times as it takes,” he chokes out. “Even if you forget me every morning… I’ll make you fall in love with me every night.”

And you let him hold you.

Even if it’s fleeting — even if tomorrow, it fades again — tonight, there’s something. A spark of memory. A spark of you.

Sunghoon – “Please Don’t Forget Me”

Sunghoon had always been composed, cool on the outside even when the world inside him cracked. But nothing — not even the grueling competitions or long, sleepless trainee nights — had prepared him for this.

Not for watching the love of his life fade in and out of their shared world like a ghost. Not for seeing you smile one moment and flinch the next.

And definitely not for hearing you whisper, “I think I used to hate you.”

It rips through him.

You were doing better — or so he’d thought. But then the doctor’s words echoed again: “The meds might make it worse before they make it better. You’ll need to be patient.”

He’s patient. He tries. He sits by your side and tells you stories of how you first met, how you used to warm his cold fingers in winter, how you hated coffee ice cream, but always bought it because he loved it. He even laughs softly when you roll your eyes at him.

But then you start remembering the worst versions of him — the sharp words said in stress, the silent treatments he thought would protect you from his own pain. And they stick longer than any of the good memories.

“Why did you yell at me so much?” you ask quietly one night, staring at the ceiling.

Sunghoon swallows thickly. “I… I didn’t know how to handle everything. I was hurting too. And I thought silence would make it go away.”

You blink at him. “You always looked like you hated me.”

“I never hated you,” he says instantly, voice hoarse. “I hated myself for not being better for you.”

That night, you don’t speak again. But your hand finds his under the covers — slow, unsure. And it stays there.

Days blur together. Some are worse than others. One afternoon, you forget his name. Another, you ask if he’s your nurse. He pretends it doesn’t cut him, but when he gets home, he cries in the shower until the water runs cold.

Then one night, you wake up in a panic — breathing fast, eyes wide — and when he rushes to you, you grab him by the shirt and whisper, “Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.”

His arms wrap around you instantly, strong but shaking. “I’m not going anywhere. Even if you forget me a thousand times, I’ll stay here — reminding you that I love you. Every time.”

And slowly, his consistency begins to win. You start trusting him again. You laugh a little more. Some mornings, you remember that he takes his coffee black and that he sleeps on the left side of the bed. Some nights, you whisper his name like a secret.

Until one night, while he’s holding you close, you trace your finger over his jaw and whisper, “You’re my boyfriend, right?”

He freezes. “Yeah. I am.”

A tear rolls down your cheek. “I think I loved you before.”

Sunghoon exhales like he’s been holding his breath for weeks, pressing a trembling kiss to your forehead.

“You still do,” he whispers. “Even if you forget again tomorrow… I’ll be right here.”

Sunoo – “I’ll Remember Enough for Both of Us”

Sunoo never believed his sunshine could dim.

You were the light of his life — always humming in the kitchen, leaving lipstick on his cheek, wrapping your arms around him when the world was too loud. He loved you with a sweetness so complete it hurt sometimes.

So when the doctor said the treatment might worsen your memory before it got better, Sunoo told himself he could handle it. That he’d smile through it for you. That his strength would be enough for both of you.

But then came the days you forgot his name.

The days you looked at him like a stranger — scared, distant.

The nights you recoiled from his touch.

And worst of all, the moments you remembered only the pain.

“You used to be cruel,” you told him one morning. Your voice was quiet but firm, eyes hazy. “You never let me breathe.”

Sunoo blinked, throat tightening. “What?”

“You were clingy. Controlling. I think I wanted to leave.”

His heart broke clean in two. “No, baby… I—I was afraid of losing you. I held on too tightly, and I hurt you, I know that now. But I’ve changed. I swear I have.”

You stared at him for a long time, then turned away.

That night, Sunoo sat alone in the hallway, back against the door, crying silently into his knees. He hadn’t been perfect. But he’d loved you with everything. And now it was like all you could see were the cracks.

But even through the pain, he never gave up.

He filled your world with softness. Laughter. Warm food. Scented candles you once said reminded you of spring. Sticky notes on the mirror that read “You’re beautiful” and “You love me, remember?”.

And one day… you did.

You were sitting on the couch, half-asleep, when you looked up at him with glassy eyes and whispered, “You used to dance in the kitchen with me… even when there wasn’t music.”

Sunoo’s heart stopped.

You blinked, confused. “Why did you do that?”

He smiled, a tear slipping down his cheek. “Because I wanted you to know I’d follow your rhythm no matter what.”

That night, he held you in bed like you were made of something fragile and sacred, whispering every soft thing he’d ever wanted to tell you into your skin.

“If you forget me again,” he said softly, “just know… I’ll always be the one waiting. The one who loves you even when you don’t remember how to love yourself.”

And in the quiet of that moment, with your head on his chest and your hand in his, it was enough.

Because even if your memories slipped again tomorrow — tonight, you were his.

Jungwon – “You’re Still My Home”

Jungwon was always steady. Reliable. The anchor in every storm.

But this… this wasn’t a storm he could brace for.

When the doctor explained the side effects — that the medication might make things worse before they improved, that you could lose more memories, deeper ones — he’d only nodded, jaw clenched tight.

Because what else could he do?

He’d promised to stand by you no matter what, and he meant every word. But he never imagined watching you forget him, forget your life together, forget yourself.

Some mornings you woke up beside him and screamed.

Some afternoons you wandered the halls in silence, asking where you were.

And some nights… you remembered just enough to hurt him.

“You always left,” you told him once, staring blankly at the window. “You loved your job more than me. You missed appointments. You missed me.”

And it was true — in the past. He had been too focused on his career. He’d thought he had time to make it up to you.

He never imagined your memory would turn time into something borrowed.

“I was wrong,” he whispered, kneeling in front of you. “I didn’t know how to balance it all back then. But I never stopped loving you. Not once.”

You didn’t respond. You just stood up and walked past him.

That night, he curled up on the couch, wide awake, staring at the ceiling and wondering how many more pieces of you would slip away before the treatment started to work.

But even through the fear, he didn’t leave.

He adjusted his schedule so he could work from home. He learned how to cook your favorite meals — the ones you didn’t always remember liking. He started writing down every moment you did remember — even if it lasted just a few minutes — and tucked them into a little leather-bound journal.

Until one morning… he found you sitting on the floor with that journal in your lap.

“I think you loved me a lot,” you whispered, voice shaking. “And I think… I did too.”

His chest ached as he dropped to his knees beside you. “You still do,” he said softly. “You just can’t feel it all the time right now. But it’s there.”

And when you turned to him — really looked at him — something in your gaze softened.

“I think I feel safe with you.”

He exhaled, pulling you gently into his arms. “You are safe. Always.”

And even if the road ahead was still foggy, filled with starts and stops and painful relapses… Jungwon would walk it with you. Every step.

Because no matter how much you forgot — he remembered enough for both of you.

And you would always be worth waiting for.

NI-KI – “Even If You Forget, I’ll Still Be Yours”

It scared him.

He was too young to be this scared. But watching you slip away, memory by memory, was the kind of fear that left Ni-ki hollow. Angry at the world. Angry at himself.

When the doctors said the new meds might make things worse before better, he didn’t believe them at first.

But then you forgot what city you were in.

Then his birthday.

Then his face.

He tried not to show it, but it gutted him. Every time you blinked at him like he was just some kid, like he wasn’t the one who stayed up all night playing video games beside you just to hear your laugh, or made midnight ramen when your cravings hit, or memorized every playlist you’d ever made.

And the worst part?

When you did remember — it was always the pain.

“You used to yell,” you said once, tears brimming. “I don’t think you liked me that much.”

“I never yelled at you,” he whispered, stunned. “I yelled when I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle all of this, and I took it out on myself — not you. But I never stopped loving you.”

You just stared. Like the words made no sense.

Ni-ki had never felt more helpless in his life.

But he didn’t walk away.

He started over. Every single day.

He introduced himself with a soft smile when you didn’t know his name. He told you stories about “a girl he used to love” — hoping that somewhere in those tales, you’d find yourself. He bought you the exact same stuffed animal from your first date. Played your favorite song and watched your eyes flicker, just for a moment, with something like recognition.

Then one night, he came home late and found you curled up in his hoodie on the couch.

“You used to hold me like this,” you murmured sleepily, barely awake. “Didn’t you?”

Ni-ki crouched beside you, fingers trembling as he brushed your hair back. “I did,” he whispered. “And I still want to.”

“Do I… do I make you happy?” you asked, eyes half-lidded.

He laughed — breathless, cracked. “You’re my entire happiness.”

And for that one night, you didn’t forget.

You let him hold you, kiss you gently, bury his face in your neck and cry like a boy lost in the storm — because for once, you were still there.

And even if tomorrow you forgot again… he wouldn’t stop fighting.

Because Ni-ki didn’t fall in love with your memory.

He fell in love with you.

And even if you couldn’t remember him — he would never stop remembering you.

tl: (read rules before asking to be added to any list ᥫ᭡. )

[transmutationisms]

hello !! do u have any recommendations for books that demystify intelligence ? and/or historical analyses that pertain to its scientific construction ? I'm actually not picky at all, an extended reading list if you already have one available would be perfectly fine. I hope I'm being clear in my request bc English isn't my 1st language... if not, sorry

<3 bisou

for sure -- there's lots of writing about the historical context of IQ in particular, as well as other measures of 'intelligence' (binet-simon, galton, etc); there's also a lot of writing that's on specific national and regional contexts. so i'm not pulling anything close to an exhaustive list here lol but these are some i found at least somewhat helpful. im presuming you're a french speaker but if not just disregard the ones in french lol

The Mismeasure of Man by Stephen Jay Gould -- this is probably the no. 1 recommendation you will receive in english on this topic. it's not necessarily crucial if you've read other historical literature critiquing psychometry, but if not, it's a very solid text and is intended to be an easy entry point into the topic, so it can be a convenient place to start if you just need a leading-off point

‘The Intelligent and the Rest’: British Mensa and the Contested Status of High Intelligence (2020). Schregel, Susanne. History of the Human Sciences 33.5, 12-36. DOI: 10.1177/0952695120970029

Child prodigies in Paris in the belle époque: Between child stars and psychological subjects (2021). Graus, Andrea. History of Psychology 24.3, 255-274. DOI: 10.1037/hop0000192

Searching for South Asian Intelligence: Psychometry in British India, 1919--1940 (2014). Setlur, Shivrang. Journal of the History of the Behavioral Sciences 50.4, 359-375. DOI: 10.1002/jhbs.21692

La mesure de l'intelligence: Jeux des forces vitales et réductionnisme cérébral selon les anthropologues français (1860-1880) (1994). Blanckaert, Claude. Ludus Vitalis: Revista de Filosofía de las Ciencias de la Vida 2.3, 35-68

The Measure of Merit: Talents, Intelligence, and Inequality in the French and American Republics, 1750--1940 (2007). Carson, John S. Princeton University Press, ISBN: 0691017158

Ambiguities of Racial Science in Colonial Africa: The African Research Survey and the Fields of Eugenics, Social Anthropology, and Biomedicine, 1920--1940 (2005). Tilley, Helen. In Science across the European Empires, 1800--1950 (ed. Stuchtey, Benedikt. Oxford University Press, ISBN: 0199276292), pp. 245–287

Ribot, Binet, and the Emergence from the Anthropological Shadow (2007). Staum, Martin S. Journal of the History of the Behavioral Sciences 43, 1-18

La mesure en psychologie de Binet à Thurstone (1997). Martin, Olivier. Revue de Synthèse 118, 457-493

W. E. B. DuBois, Anthropometric Science, and the Limits of Racial Uplift (2006). Farland, Maria. American Quarterly 58, 1017-1044

The Mismeasure of Minds: Debating Race and Intelligence between Brown and The Bell Curve (2018). Staub, Michael E. University of North Carolina Press, ISBN: 9781469643595

After Binet: French intelligence testing, 1900-1950 (1992). Schneider, William H. Journal of the History of the Behavioral Sciences 28, 111-132

Woman's Brain, Man's Brain: Feminism and Anthropology in Late Nineteenth-Century France (2003). Sowerwinea, Charles. Women's History Review 12, 289-308

[pisstintedglasses]

Diary of a Horny Man

Landlord! Park Jongseong—Jay x Tenant! Reader

Warnings; warnings: BDSM, unsafe sex (don't copy them), dacryphilia, begging, brat, POV, rough sex, daddy dom!Jay, loud af, dubcon, cnc

// You recently moved in a new apartment full of sweet, old ladies who gave you a warm welcome into their community. The angsty landlord of yours stood out like a sore thumb in the herd of loving grandmas. As if you weren't confused enough by his behavior, another mystery has placed itself on your doorstep. Literally. //

Chapter One - Moved in

Getting settled in, and noticing how rude your landlord was. Paying no mind to it, you went along your life, slowly integrating yourself into the community. When you were sat on your living room one afternoon, you'd found a door, hidden by the wallpaper and contemplating to open it. When you did, you found something that altered your brain chemistry.

Chapter Two - Diary Journal

once you stepped in the room, you were met with a variety of sex toys, in a dusty, seemingly abandoned room. Seeing how the place was likely unused for a while, you snooped around and found a journal containing details of the sexual encounters of... your landlord?!

Chapter 3 - Day and Night

the Jay from the book and the one in real life had a really stark difference, Speaking of the devil, he was warming up to you after you made him crack up with your "Kiss the cook" sweater.

Chapter 4 - It's missing!

Jay finally noticed the absence of his diary and went full panic mode, turning his place upside down in search of it. As he was in a frenzy, you read more and found out about Jay's past.

Chapter 5 - I know where it is

Seeing Jay's troubled state at the party, you wanted to try something out. You wanted to play a game you thought he initiated. So you laid your cards out, telling him you knew where the damn diary was and shocking the poor guy.

Chapter 6 - Give it back!

He bit your bait, following you to your room for the diary; what you assumed was just his excuse to see you. But amidst your foreplay, he snapped, took the diary, and stormed out. Had you misunderstood his cues?

Chapter 7 - You were curious, weren't you?

After pissing Jay off, you had planned to get him to forgive you. But you couldn't execute it when he'd avoid you for two whole weeks. So imagine your surprise when he showed up with a girl in tow, fucking her as you watched.

Chapter 8; the last chapter - Try it on you

[reasonsforhope]

Humans are so cute. They think they can outsmart birds. They place nasty metal spikes on rooftops and ledges to prevent birds from nesting there.

It’s a classic human trick known in urban design as “evil architecture”: designing a place in a way that’s meant to deter others. Think of the city benches you see segmented by bars to stop homeless people sleeping there.

But birds are genius rebels. Not only are they undeterred by evil architecture, they actually use it to their advantage, according to a new Dutch study published in the journal Deinsea.

Crows and magpies, it turns out, are learning to rip strips of anti-bird spikes off of buildings and use them to build their nests. It’s an incredible addition to the growing body of evidence about the intelligence of birds, so wrongly maligned as stupid that “bird-brained” is still commonly used as an insult...

Magpies also use anti-bird spikes for their nests. In 2021, a hospital patient in Antwerp, Belgium, looked out the window and noticed a huge magpie’s nest in a tree in the courtyard. Biologist Auke-Florian Hiemstra of Leiden-based Naturalis Biodiversity Center, one of the study’s authors, went to collect the nest and found that it was made out of 50 meters of anti-bird strips, containing no fewer than 1,500 metal spikes.

Hiemstra describes the magpie nest as “an impregnable fortress.”

Pictured: A huge magpie nest made out of 1,500 metal spikes.

Magpies are known to build roofs over their nests to prevent other birds from stealing their eggs and young. Usually, they scrounge around in nature for thorny plants or spiky branches to form the roof. But city birds don’t need to search for the perfect branch — they can just use the anti-bird spikes that humans have so kindly put at their disposal.

“The magpies appear to be using the pins exactly the same way we do: to keep other birds away from their nest,” Hiemstra said.

Another urban magpie nest, this one from Scotland, really shows off the roof-building tactic:

Pictured: A nest from Scotland shows how urban magpies are using anti-bird spikes to construct a roof meant to protect their young and eggs from predators.

Birds had already been spotted using upward-pointing anti-bird spikes as foundations for nests. In 2016, the so-called Parkdale Pigeon became Twitter-famous for refusing to give up when humans removed her first nest and installed spikes on her chosen nesting site, the top of an LCD monitor on a subway platform in Melbourne. The avian architect rebelled and built an even better home there, using the spikes as a foundation to hold her nest more securely in place.

...Hiemstra’s study is the first to show that birds, adapting to city life, are learning to seek out and use our anti-bird spikes as their nesting material. Pretty badass, right?

The genius of birds — and other animals we underestimate

It’s a well-established fact that many bird species are highly intelligent. Members of the corvid family, which includes crows and magpies, are especially renowned for their smarts. Crows can solve complex puzzles, while magpies can pass the “mirror test” — the classic test that scientists use to determine if a species is self-aware.

Studies show that some birds have evolved cognitive skills similar to our own: They have amazing memories, remembering for months the thousands of different hiding places where they’ve stashed seeds, and they use their own experiences to predict the behavior of other birds, suggesting they’ve got some theory of mind.

And, as author Jennifer Ackerman details in The Genius of Birds, birds are brilliant at using tools. Black palm cockatoos use twigs as drumsticks, tapping out a beat on a tree trunk to get a female’s attention. Jays use sticks as spears to attack other birds...

Birds have also been known to use human tools to their advantage. When carrion crows want to crack a walnut, for example, they position the nut on a busy road, wait for a passing car to crush the shell, then swoop down to collect the nut and eat it. This behavior has been recorded several times in Japanese crows.

But what’s unique about Hiemstra’s study is that it shows birds using human tools, specifically designed to thwart birds’ plans, in order to thwart our plans instead. We humans try to keep birds away with spikes, and the birds — ingenious rebels that they are — retort: Thanks, humans!

-via Vox, July 26, 2023

[miumura]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 — TEN THINGS I HATE ; JAY FIC

“ I’ll do better, if you stay with me like this. ”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ where jay keeps a journal where he documents all the reasons he hates you, his rival. despite claiming he will forever hate you, keeping this journal only makes him realize his feelings for you.

PAIRING rival!jay x gn!reader

GENRE angst, fluff — WARNINGS jealousy ; overthinking !

WORD COUNT 1.7K+ (1730)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ soph strikes again!! angst cb, did we cheer?? anyways i was in the feels okay 😢 listening to music while writing really unlocks something in ur brain im telling you…idk what really went thru my mind when making this but enjoy 😊🫶

#1 – HOW YOU’RE GOOD AT EVERYTHING.

Is it normal to have a journal dedicated to someone you hate? Whatever, I just need to get this off my chest. Whenever you’re involved, it’s like I could have nothing I want. It’s stupid, but I don’t care, it just pisses me off when you easily follow instructions, perfect things on your first try, and get all the awards I wish to have. I admit, jealousy consumes me. It's frustrating how effortlessly you seem to achieve anything you want without even trying. Seeing your achievements plastered all over the school only intensifies my anger, making me wish I could tear your posters into shreds. I've never despised second place more than now. Why can't I find contentment with my own scores or position, just like you? How can I remove you from my life and find peace within myself?

#2 – HOW CHEERFUL YOU ARE.

How is it possible for someone to remain so happy throughout the entire day? I can't help but wonder if you possess some magical influence over my friends, as they seem to shower you with compliments non-stop. It's weird to hear nothing but praise for you while I find myself complaining about various things. It's almost as if nobody comprehends why I harbor such animosity towards you, and this frustrates me immensely. Every time I express my emotions, they tell me to laugh and smile more, as if I don't already do it enough. But then, when I contemplate your cheerful and positive demeanor, it becomes clear why they encourage it. You're like the epitome of a model student everyone aspires to be, while I remain the perpetually angry and stubborn person. No wonder everyone wants to spend time with you, and perhaps that's one thing I can agree with others on.

#3 – YOU LIKE THINGS THAT I LIKE.

It's almost like a curse that we share the same interests. It's the reason I keep encountering you everywhere. Whatever I do, you seem to be there, expressing your fondness for the same things with your friends. It's frustrating, and I can't help but roll my eyes at the thought of encountering you even more. Even listening to music has become a challenge, as I know you like the same artists. I purposely skip their songs because they only remind me of you, and I hate being consumed by thoughts of you. I yearn to stop learning more about you so that I can enjoy the things I like in peace, without these constant reminders of you.

#4 – YOU MAKE ME OVERTHINK.

Maybe because of how perfect you seem to be in other’s eyes, I wonder how I look in other people’s eyes too. Am I that awful to hang out with? Am I always seen as this angry person who hates everyone? I’m not that, I know that–my friends do as well. But others? I’m not so sure about that. What confuses me even more is why you persist in wanting to spend time with me despite any perceived flaws or stubbornness on my part. You could easily choose to be with other people who might seem better to converse with. Yet, you continue to stick around, refusing to give up on our “friendship”. And because of this, I can see how others might form a negative opinion about me. My constant push to keep you away could be misunderstood, leading people to believe I'm simply a horrible person.

#5 – YOU LIKE ME.

I'm not sure if you have romantic feelings for me, but I can tell that you consider me a friend. It's interesting because I hadn't thought of you in that way before, but it doesn't seem to bother you. Today, you stood up for me, and it felt really heartening. Normally, I might have felt angry or vulnerable when someone defends me, but this time it was different. I don’t know, it just did feel really nice. Your quick response in telling those people to stop was captivating, even though I didn't express my gratitude at the moment. Lately, I've been struggling with the loud voices in my head, and sometimes I wonder if you could help quiet them too. But now, I'm not sure what I'm trying to convey. You confuse me a lot.

#6 – YOU GIVE THE WRONG PEOPLE SECOND CHANCES.

The other day, I saw you in tears because someone had broken your heart. I must admit, I was taken aback because I had never seen you sad or upset before. It was quite a contrast to the cheerful version of yourself that I'm familiar with. What happened to you that everyone sees all the time? I hope you had someone to tell you your problems too, as it’s not easy for someone who is your rival to be comforting you. I didn’t, so I hope you went home that night filled with less worries because you have someone to talk with.

What surprised me even more was that the very next day, you gave the person who hurt you a second chance. I can't help but wonder why you keep allowing people to hurt you when it's likely they'll repeat the same behavior, ultimately affecting your radiant smile. Stop going back to the people that hurt you once, it’s only going to be a cycle. I wish I could share these thoughts with you, but I hesitate because I doubt you'd take them to heart coming from someone like me. However, I can't help caring despite my own imperfections. It's puzzling to me as well, as you make me feel oddly connected to your feelings.

#7 – SEEING YOUR TEARS.

I never imagined how much I could despise seeing someone cry until the moment I witnessed your tears. Ever since that day, I always thought about it, so how could I let it slip out of my mind this time? I’m sorry for yelling at you today. I’m sorry for saying I hate you. I didn’t mean it, I was just extremely frustrated today, and not at you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know how saying this won’t do anything, but I truly mean it. I wish I could rewind time once I saw water fill up in your eyes, but what’s done is done. You made me realize something crucial—that I've always seen you as a rival, whereas you only wanted to be friends with me. I allowed my competitive nature to ruin our chances of a meaningful connection. I fear now that you might avoid me, and I understand if you do. I worry that I might continue to hurt you, just like the people you often encounter, who don't treat you with the kindness you deserve. You deserve better than that, and I'm sorry for contributing to your pain.

#8 – GIVING ME ANOTHER CHANCE.

I never imagined we'd get another chance after what happened. I tried avoiding you, genuinely attempting to keep my distance. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't resist reaching out to talk to you again. It's almost as if we both sensed the need to address the situation, leading us to have that important conversation. I still don’t know why you gave me another chance. Did I not say hurtful things to you? How easily are you able to put that behind? Your ability to forgive and move past it leaves me in awe.

It's making me reflect on my own flaws, especially how I tend to hold grudges and struggle to let go of negative feelings. I can't quite comprehend how you do it, but you make me think about you more than ever before. Every word I speak now feels like it needs to be carefully considered, thanks to your presence in my thoughts. Your gesture of offering another chance touched me deeply and brought a smile to my face. I can't help but wonder what you've done to influence me in this way. I think you really did something to me.

#9 – FEELINGS, FEELINGS, FEELINGS.

We've connected much faster than I anticipated, even surprising my friends. I'm left wondering what you've done to me. You've become an all-encompassing thought – your smile, your laughter, your sense of humor – everything about you fills my mind. At times, I ponder whether I ever cross your thoughts too. Could this be love? My friends have mentioned it, and I can't find a way to refute them. I'm fond of you, immensely so. Isn't that a crazy twist?

It's a strange journey we're on. I started this journal to document the reasons I disliked you, but look at where it's led us. Is it too soon to be feeling this way? The idea of revealing my feelings is terrifying, yet I'm unsure if I'll ever have another opportunity. Please bear with me, allow me to find the right moment. Perhaps soon, hopefully, you'll be in my arms. I realize how absurd all this sounds – what am I even saying?

#10 – HOW EASY YOU WON ME OVER.

You won. You won my heart effortlessly, but I didn't win yours in return. I'm burdened with regret for how I've treated you. My ignorance and neglect weigh heavily on me now. It's painfully clear that he's all you've ever been able to think about. Why did I delude myself into thinking I could make a difference? If only I had treated you with the kindness you deserved from the start. Could that have made you love me instead? These thoughts haunt me.

I've grown aware of my own attachment, and I'm sorry for allowing it to consume me. I apologize for the disruption I've caused in your recent weeks. I can't bring myself to be genuinely happy for you and him, though he does seem like a better man than I could ever be. It's evident that I need to move on for your sake, to make things easier for you. Yet, there's a part of me that wishes I could still claim you as mine. That longing will always remain unchanged.

I doubt you'll ever stumble upon this journal entry, not that I would ever permit anyone to. But regardless, I want you to know that I do love you. It's a truth that's etched deeply within me, even though it pains me to admit it.

💭 — fun fact this was supposed to have a happy ending until i pulled out spotify n listened to lyn lapid…yeah.

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (🎥) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @yenavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @starcubes @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @woon2u @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @flwrshee @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[ratkingdraws]

Somebody's watchin' me. It's my anxiety

Congrats to @thelonelyshore-if for the Chapter 3 release! I was listening to Anxiety by Doechii when my tls brain rot gave me the idea to make art for it. Towards the end of making it, the idea to turn it into a poster hit me in the head like a brick so here we are!

Extra yapping under the cut! It does contain spoilers for chapter 3 so please don't open that if you are avoiding spoilers.

I pulled a handful of references from the story for this piece.

The Fog and The Lake being the most obvious parts

The mushroom and eyes from Willow's journal. The eye designs are specifically from Croft's tattoos shown here. The eyes really rep mc always being watched by the fog

The tendril from the lake that dragged mc under during the storm and the X's over their eyes to represent them dying in said lake

"Wrong" coming from mc's thoughts about the way the mall feels

Croft telling Yasmin that mc's arrival is "breaking the pattern"

Ravi's quote " Nobody leaves Easthaven. Ever." during the reveal scene with him, Jay, and Dr. Jones.

Blood dripping down the forehead as a nod to the car crash

Distortion on "Easthaven" in the quote and on the jacket patch since it's kinda like a pocket dimension

Doe as a patch! One of the biggest "yeah this shit is supernatural" reveals we've gotten so far

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Compound Seams || Miles Upshur/Reader

Summary: A man obsessed with understanding given a temporary glance at the non-understandable.

Word Count: ~ 1.6k

Warning: extreme gore and violence, murder, gun violence, torture, possession, sort of eldritch themes in certain aspects, not understandable things, brainwashing, murder, you get it

A/N: yes this will be a series. I just needed to get this out and see if I like it after like 3am. I’m actually miles Upshur guys he’s actually me slash jay. uhhh enjoy?

Requests are open!

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

The ricochet of the bullets in his ear, casing hitting the ground with a sharp, clear clanging sound, faded as his ears rang.

Pain ripped throughout his body, unlike anything he’d experienced, like hot bolts being shoved through his body, pulled back out, and then pushed all the way back in.

His mouth opened in pure shock, and the noise that came out wasn’t human, or at least the suffering required for that noise must’ve meant that he’d lost a part of his humanity. Of himself.

And as if to mock him, it tripled, numbers higher than he knew how to count, longer than infinity, and smaller than zero, as he felt the horrifying sense of a sudden awareness of everything within his body.

He could feel every tendon, ligament, slab of flesh, and where it intermingled with his bones and marrow. He could feel the space it took up, and the space that he didn’t take up, something else did.

It wasn’t describable, is what he would tell you if you ever asked him. No amount of paper and pen or camcorder and battery could help him journal this. He’d made it beyond the finish line of journalism.

A howling filled his ears, though it felt more in the back of his head, as his body writhed on the ground, spasming in a warm pool of blood, his back arching and thrashing around. His fists clenched, teeth grinding against each other as his eyes felt like they were bulging out of his skull.

He could hear screaming, the slam of a body against a wall, metal crunching, and coughing, squelching of flesh.

He was aware of every empty space in his body and then aware of the fact that there was none.

It wasn’t like air, or wind, or even a slimy sort of thing. It felt heavy, not physically, but thick with something, dense but only mentally, as if it was light as a feather if he were to touch or hold it. It was liquid as it spread, though hard as concrete, not even needing to spread as it shoved its way inside.

It settled, though it didn’t. Contradicting, but not. In a way that only made sense to him, would—could only make sense to him. There was a certain point of the world that one could not document, could only experience.

He wanted to be able to describe, to know, the endless want for knowledge was what had brought him here.

Miles up shore without a paddle.

Couldn’t this be enough? Couldn’t he at least die happy knowing that he figured it out? That he recorded evidence, something for someone to find, began the knot that might one day help somebody finish off the loose end?

His flesh felt like it was about to separate like a yarn unwinding, splitting into fragments before returning to dust as it came, his body screaming in protest, the pressure in his eyeballs being well over anything ever established, his vision was a fiery white as his suffering was compacted—shoved into one singular object before being turned liquid and shoved—the needle into his neck as a rotten man whispered in his ear——

And then it was gone.

Flicked off like a switch.

He screamed. Screamed without an end, screaming into the abyss until his throat was raw, his vocal cords processing the pain his brain couldn’t, the aftershock leaving his mind trying to understand.

Like an ant who’d suddenly gained understanding, knew the inner workings of the motherboard, not everything, but beyond the borders of what it had thought was everything, then suddenly was placed back in its own mind.

His mind tried reaching back out, brushing against the borders of what had been, what might be if he had the eyes to see it, as he lay on the floor, vision not properly computing until he stopped.

He wanted to know—needed to understand again—would do anything for it—

‘Stop.’

A voice whispered. A man-to-be, a child never allowed to grow beyond what he could’ve been.

He didn’t know who it was.

Like a butcher swinging the knife down, he did stop. It didn’t feel like his hand swinging the knife, but nonetheless, it swung.

His fingers moved. Joints itched, singing like cicadas in the summertime, until they cracked, breaking open, and for some reason, he was shocked to find that they still moved.

He moved. Sat up, and put his elbows down against the ground.

His physical form ached, his chest feeling like a freshly pulled pork tenderloin if it was sentient, his entire body bruised and battered.

He was shaking.

It wasn’t him who looked around, whose scales fell off of their eyes, looking at the carnage before him. Soldiers lay dead. Wernicke lay on the ground, wheelchair ripped to shreds, the metal pieces distributed throughout the soldiers, coated in the blood of pawns in Wernicke’s game of chess.

He felt weightless as he rolled forward, to his knees, gasping for air as if he hadn’t breathed fresh air in too long. He didn’t feel like himself as he stepped to his feet, knees barely supporting him, a few of his ribs definitely broken, and limped over to the old man lying on the ground.

Blood leaked from his nose. Miles glanced down, looking at his shirt, his jacket, for hell’s sake, and holes were riddled everywhere.

He shouldn’t be breathing.

Red coated his shirt and jacket, dripping down onto the fabric of his pants.

He should not be breathing.

“You—“ Dr. Wernicke gasped for air, his fragile, wrinkled hands curling in on his chest, underneath his shirt, his face smashed against the ground, and shoulders angled towards the tiled flooring as well.

He watched. Silently. His anger wasn’t boiling, it wasn’t hot or cold, it had already boiled over. The pot was empty.

He was empty.

He stepped towards the senile man, listening to him wheeze, a small whistling noise, like the wind blowing by, coming from who he assumed was the scientist.

“Wait, you just understand, I—“

He spoke dramatically, not getting a chance to continue as Miles stepped closer, taking a bloodstained shoe, the blood of Wernicke, not Billy Hope’s victims, and slamming it down on the man’s neck.

A gasping cough, something bloody coming up his throat. Miles lifted his foot again, watching Wernicke’s face shift from an attempt at mercy, to whatever emotion could be compared to that of a flailing fish, like a child clawing and throwing, that final burst of energy before what you know is death, not as death, comes for you.

Wernicke’s hand emerged from beneath his shirt, a small black object beneath it, something Miles was quickly able to recognize as it fired.

His vision blurred, and movement occurred that he wasn’t aware of. He heard a scream, something happening in the foreground, but he felt as if in the background of his mind.

Calm.

It was almost nice.

Painless.

With a simple blurring and snap, however, he was back. Exposed to the scene in front of him, something he wouldn’t want to describe, though if you could see through his eyes. You wouldn’t want to.

A culmination of all the violence and torture Wernicke caused was his death. The simplest way to put it. It wasn’t easy to even understand how a body could be turned into what was in front of him.

But he did.

He turned, looking forward, toward the dim, yellow light that he knew was of a half-opened industrial exit door. He took one step. Two steps.

Almost made three, before like a blinding clarity, it came to him.

His camcorder.

The breath emptied out of his lungs as he realized he’d almost forgotten it, the source of all of this, the desire to capture. He could upload this somewhere, show everyone what happened, help everyone else see what truly went on here.

The source of his suffering and the cause of his freedom.

And it was right there. Only a few feet behind him.

He stumbled over to it with a pathetic urgency, codependent on this small device, and wrapped his broken hands around it, cradling it as if it were his firstborn.

Miles opened the side of it, giving it a few small flicks, trying to see if it would still even work after the hell it had been through.

There were more cracks than one, sure, but the camera functioned. Night vision and all.

He turned the camera to the old man. What remained of him, at least. What nobody else could ever recognize as him. A mixture of soul-crushing sadness, sadness for someone he didn’t know, and a sense of relief overtook him.

Freedom.

That’s what he felt.

He then turned his camera back towards the lab, zooming in on the life pod, a circle of glass filled with bloody water, and the remains of Billy Hope’s tortured corpse.

It felt nostalgic.

Mentally, he opened his notepad, something he’d lost, it wasn’t in his pockets anymore, for whatever reason, and he tapped his blue pen against the side of the worn, dirty paper.

It always took a few circles for the ink to start flowing.

When it finally did begin to work, he took that pen, mentally burning the image of the tortured teenage boy trapped in his own mind into his memory, and wrote two simple words.

“I’m sorry.”

He whispered.

Another pen, this one in old ink, a rusty red, like that of dried blood which he’d seen much too often these past few weeks, wrote below that in sloppy handwriting, as if not used to writing.

“I’m sorry.”

It whispered back.

He closed the notepad.

Looked towards freedom.

And they stepped forward.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jay Kuo at The Status Kuo:

The Trump regime’s war on our democracy began with a war on truth, and that fight is continuing apace. They currently have a clear goal: turn public opinion against migrants and anti-ICE protesters to justify a police state in Democratic cities. They’re deploying three key messages to achieve this.

First, they’re falsely labeling all undocumented immigrants as criminals in order to telegraph to the nation that they deserve what’s coming to them. Second, they are grossly exaggerating the scope and nature of the anti-ICE protests in order to deploy even more federal troops. Third, the White House is brazenly conflating peaceful protestors with violent rioters and “insurrectionists” in order to suppress First Amendment freedoms. When we hear and read the regime’s statements, they usually fall into one of these three buckets. To form a coherent response, we need to be disciplined about identifying their lies, exaggerations and conflations where we see them. And as members of the public, we all can help get the truth out there to counter their propaganda.

Immigrants aren’t criminals

The playbook of the White House is neither inventive nor unfamiliar. From his very first speech as a candidate after coming down the golden escalator at Trump Tower, Donald Trump has labeled whole immigrant communities as rapists, drug dealers and murderers in order to dehumanize them; turn the public against them; and weaponize fear, bigotry and division.

Republicans habitually exploit instances like the tragic murder of Laken Riley to paint all undocumented immigrants as murderous gang members. Democrats unfortunately are pretty terrible at responding to these attacks. They often even feel powerless to vote against draconian legislation (intentionally named after victims like Riley) because they worry they’ll be viewed as soft on “migrant crime.” Republicans learned long ago that it’s far easier to tar an entire community with the actions of one person than it is for Democrats to prove a negative and demonstrate how the vast majority of immigrants are law-abiding and hard-working. But the White House has recently made a series of mistakes borne of overconfidence, and they have taken things too far. That presents a solid opportunity for concerted response. Recently, for example, the White House crudely photoshopped an image of Kilmar Ábrego García in order to claim he’s a gang member. Donald Trump even pulled the picture out to show the world his “proof,” getting fact checked and ridiculed in the aftermath.

And this week Kristi Noem called the entire city of Los Angeles a city of criminals, not a city of immigrants, while Stephen Miller got called out in reporting by the Wall Street Journal for ordering I.C.E. not to round up actual criminals but to target immigrant workers outside of Home Depot. The best way to handle habitual liars is not just to challenge each and every lie, though that is important. They must also be labeled as liars whose credibility is worthless, tinged with animus and never to be trusted. This approach leverages how normal people’s brains actually work. If someone lies to you once, you might wonder what they’re after or hiding from you. If they lie to you repeatedly, you learn to not trust a thing they say. (MAGA appears to be an exception to this, with cognitive dissonance and cultish obedience dominating over critical thinking.)

[...]

L.A. is not “ablaze.”

If you were to watch Fox coverage of the protests for any length of time (and I’d not advise that for anyone) you’d start to notice something. The same video images of burning Waymo cars and tear gas filled streets, complete with rock throwing protestors, are being broadcast on repeat. This has two effects. First, it gives the distinct impression that there is massive danger, chaos and destruction happening. Second, it suggests, falsely, that the entire city of Los Angeles looks this way. From this, we wind up with tweets from Republican senators like Marsha Blackburn of Tennessee, who claimed Gov. Newsom caved to the “radical left” and “illegals” while the “largest city of California was set ablaze.”

Marsha, Marsha, Marsha. So the entire city of Los Angeles is on fire now, is it? Can you name a single building? Which district is it in? The GOP and its media allies of course did this before. During the George Floyd protests, particularly in places like Portland and New York City, there was a widespread but false belief that both cities were “ablaze” and in total chaos. Fox News watching parents and grandparents called to make sure their adult children were okay. But like the L.A. protests of today, the conflicts in 2020 were contained to small areas. The National Guard wasn’t needed then, and it’s certainly not needed now.

[...]

Protestors are not rioters or insurrectionists

If you listen to the rhetoric coming out of the White House, as I am sadly forced to daily, you begin to notice patterns. Suddenly, the anti-ICE protests of last weekend, which were by and large peaceful, were dubbed “insurrections” against the government—even when they were simply crowds of people protesting ICE abuses.

[...] People have a right to peaceful assembly in this country. A crowd approaching an ICE facility is not an insurrection.

Jay Kuo wrote in his Status Kuo blog that the Trump Regime’s fascist lies about migrants and ICE protests serve a purpose: to justify the enacting of a police state to suppress dissent against Tyrant 47 and his allies.

See Also:

The Contrarian: Trump won’t stop with California

[aweirdlisa]

Generation Loss thoughts/theories

Okay I had to return from the dead to post about Generation Loss because decoding the Founder’s letter is something I am still proud of (it took me about 4? hours) and it got Genloss to grab me with its claws to pull me right back in! I’ve been a big webseries and ARG fan since like 2009 so I’m happy there is still some awesome content being made to this day.

First of all, Ranboo, the founders game website is phenomenal, absolutely sick work, I’m thoroughly excited and terrified to see what is next!

Second of all I rewatched and re-read pretty much everything of Genloss since the start and I’ve got thoughts I want to spill in one place to have them all together, so here goes (thanks for reading if you do!) I will try to keep it chronological:

In “T_1”, the very first video, we are introduced vaguely to a world where history may have been tampered with through generation loss which appears to be some sort of psychology/principle/scientific method probably founded by the Founder, which is taught and used to alter or censor certain events, effectively changing the world with it

With what we know so far I believe this generation loss movement isn’t just the editing and reproducing of versions of media to the point where they’re deformed or altered, but they can actually alter the things people see like our Hero and the other people did within the Social Experiments, to the point where even extreme things like gore can be censored (Charlie on the operating table for example), people can be “brainwashed” or “hijacked” in a way, we also see a brain shape in one of the images with the Genloss logo near it

In opposition to the Genloss party, we have Red Text Person, who seems to be against the whole principle and wants to kill the Founder of this movement

The inauguration in T_2 is either for us the viewer to see how readily available we are to killing other humans through choices on a screen, or it was a procedure that the folks in the Social Experiments went through to become “worthy“ and thus ready for the show

In “Connecting…” we hear that they are looking for individuals and to call if we spot them

In “Connected” we hear about Showfall media for the first time and how they have a missing person’s hotline

In “Connected” we also see a tunnel which I believe to be the use of transportation to either other universes (“One to another”, “one of many”, “look into infinity”) aka generations or simple time travel to other generations

In “Connected” we also have another influence of Red Text Person trying to warn us that we shouldn’t watch the show

In “Announcement” we learn that the missing individuals are all caught by “It”, “everyone but me” according to Red Text Person

Red Text Person at this point seems unsure where their signal is ending up, which is with us

The Social Experiments air live, where I thought Hetch was Red Text Person, but they turned out to not be on our side, having been given a role by the Founder (however voluntarily that may have been)

Ranboo aka the Hero and the others were the “missing individuals” mentioned in the earlier videos, ending up being caught as they are needed for the experiments, perhaps because they were a threat to the founder, rebels against the Genloss movement, or simply cannon fodder to test out what is possible with “infinity” as the Founder says

In “A Message From The Founder” the Founder announces he is creating the Founder’s cut, a “perfect” version of the story

In the meantime we are introduced to Zero’s journal snippets which start surfacing on twitter, however they were written somewhere in the 1900s, despite this we somehow affect her world/time through polls, where we end up blasting happy birthday through her radio

Zero started keeping this diary as result of a treatment / therapy she started due to something that happened 8 months prior, in addition she starts tracking the wild dreams she has as per suggestion of her friend “Jay” who is into the supernatural

Her dreams consist of a field with red sky, an unnatural cave/chasm, a sky rippling like water and crashing into her, a hospital turning into a hallway with a creature chasing her and eventually seeing herself with a wreck against a tree in the same field as before, the tree has a certain symbol etched into it, presumably the Genloss symbol

The wreck could imply the incident that occurred 8 months prior

Zero notes how she hates the uncertain future and how she wishes she could just control everything

Zero works for a store fixing VCRs and helping customers among other things

All shown entries are implied to be written between July 30th - Aigist 15th 19XX (probably late 1900s due to radios and VCRs being a thing)

In “Coming_Soon” another tease of the Founder’s Cut happens, yet notably the Founder mentions that what we are about to see actually happened live, but “just not here”, implying the possibility of a multiverse rather than the time travel situation

In “Again” the Founder clarifies that they made the Founder’s cut by replaying the Social Experiments over and over again until it became a perfect, pure version

The Founder’s Cut is released on YouTube, at the end we are shown a conversation between Miss Roads, aka Zero and her presumed therapist who tells her to keep a journal which is how we learn about Zero’s name and how she started her journaling

In “From The Founder’s Desk” we are introduced to a code in the form of a substitution cipher using newly created symbols that seem to be based off of the Genloss logo, this could be one of Four keys to the Founder’s door as mentioned on twitter, though what the keys are isn’t clear yet

Once translated, the message appears to be a letter from the Founder directed at an unnamed “you”, speaking of how the Founder watched and watched until noticing “you” and how special “you” were, but how “you were not perfect” and how they can and will create something beautiful and perfect

The letter could be referring to some final goal of creating a perfect “story” as mentioned before

In “Welcome to Generation 0” the Founder tells us about being ready to see the real story, the one from his generation, Generation 0 (an alternate universe or timeline?) we only need the keys and the door to get to see it, which will be provided to us in time

In “T_3” we hear the rumblings of a machine and see a red door which we now recognise from the Founder’s Game, Red Text Person shows up again, testifying of having seen people who shouldn’t exist yet do, implying they may have been displaced from their own timeline/universe or censored through generation loss, yet Red Text Person saw them

Red Text Person also refers to an “it” and “not knowing what it is for but I have to stop it”, the it in question could refer to a machine that the Founder uses to do everything they have been doing, or to the principle of Genloss itself

Lastly Red Text Person implies something is coming, but they will try to show us what “they” have done and to who

In “The Fortune Teller” we hear a voice speak of the future being a beautiful thing and then mentioning “the door” asking us if we know what lies beyond it and if we really want to open it, so far this video stumped me as to what it really means, the short sentence of hidden code also hasn’t been decoded with a 100% certainty but we will get there !

In the meantime VHS tapes of the Founder’s cut arrived to those who ordered them, where we were led to the Founder’s Game website, the “beginning” that was planted in our generation being the password to the website

The first part of the Founder’s game has us walk through a hallway, where we encounter the person from the T_2 video before they were killed when you make the “You vs Them” choice

We also see someone vigorously watch and rewind a tape in a room, this could possibly be the founder as they’re working on the Social Experiments at the time as they had not happened yet while T_2 person is still alive

Lastly we are given the option to choose between a Laboratory and Holding Cell B, which we will found out in a week whichever was chosen

Whew this was long! To recap my thoughts a bit concisely, I believe the Founder was the one to introduce/invent the technology used to alter people’s minds using generation loss to replace memories and influence the world they live in. It’s possible that Showfall was created as a company to apply their technology to spread and control media as they liked. If used on a large enough group of people they could effectively control entire worlds. On top of that it is possible time travel or multiversal travel takes place when we see the tunnels in the videos. People are taken “from one to another”, where they were “one of millions”, and get their brains messed with until they “are worthy” to participate in one of the stories.

What could possibly be the goal? Perhaps total control of everything we know, some sadistic story that will be “perfect” to the Founder’s vision. Maybe the freedom to create as many stories as they like. He mentions that the Social Experiments were a literal test to see what is possible with infinity, and that the rabbit hole can go deep with infinite generations, infinite stories. We are shown “his” generation up next and what will be the home of the “perfect” story, so it could be that he just wants to fix his own reality to suit his wishes.

How does Zero fit into this? She experienced some sort of incident leaving her troubled, which leads to her journal entries. She experiences strange dreams and talks of wishing how she could control everything. She deals with VCRs on the regular so she could become the Red Text Person who ends up witnessing “Generation 0” and tries to stop the Founder before things go to shit even more?

That or if you want to go full tragedy, she could somehow become the Founder in an attempt to fix her reality, where she could undo the incident that caused her so much trauma, but needs to practice on other realities first?

Zero is pretty much the biggest question mark to me at the moment, but the scale of the Founder, Showfall media, and their power are getting clearer and clearer, to a terrifying degree!

The timeline is a little wonky now that we are going from “generation 1” to 0 and that we are interacting with things from the past in the Founder’s Game, but I’m sure things will fall into place once it’s all over.

Anyway I could be incredibly wrong about all of this, but I am having an incredible time with all the lore and cannot wait to see where it all leads up to!

See ya!

[cookeybg]

Unexpected Cohabitation a JonDami fic

Before we get to the story I have a few words to say...

First of all, Hello!

Not sure if this will reach anyone, but I had an itch to write, so I did. I almost never post anything. I have reposted a couple things but I'm mostly a lurker and enjoy others creativity and thoughts, I like to think of myself as a cat with few brain cells.

Anyways, I read a manga YEARS ago and enjoyed it greatly and thought to myself, "Wouldn't it be funny/interesting if Jon and Damian were stuck in this situation?" Let's see if anyone eventually gets what manga I was reminiscing.

Now, this is the first time I've ever posted anything I've written and I am not confident AT ALL if this is going to be any good, but I really hope someone out there enjoys reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it...Also not sure if I should post it on Ao3???

Well enough of my ramblings on to the story.

Title: Unexpected Cohabitation

Main Characters: Jonathan Kent and Damian Wayne (some of the others show up too, the list is too long)

Eventual relationship: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne (my fave)

Stuff to know: No capes, reverse robins, high school AU, no smut, no Brucie Wayne, I know nothing about sports but it will show up, (aaand I think that's it, will add more if it comes up)

Part 1 - Chapter 1

Jon placed his lunch tray next to Kathys’ as he discreetly looked around the lunch room trying to catch a glimpse of his crush. He had only briefly seen him at the mall during summer break and in a panic hid from him behind a rack of clothes. He had regretted not saying hello and had daydreams of himself going up to him, all cool and complementing the brown eyed boy’s pink fluffy hair and then asking him out to watch a movie at the mall theater. Sadly, the daydreams would come crashing down when he remembered his mother placing shirts in front of him and trying to measure him up before heading into the dressing room. It’s not that he was embarrassed of his mom its just, he was wearing sweats and an old hoodie since none of his clothes fit him anymore due to his growth spurt and, well, his mom could be a bit much, sometimes. Throughout the whole shopping trip when she would meet an acquaintance or friend she kept gushing about how quick kids grew and how she wished they would just stop sometimes. Jon would have to bury himself if anyone from school had been exposed to that.

“Looking for Jay?” Kathy asked. Jon looked at Kathy like a deer caught in the headlights and immediately turned red. He sat down abruptly causing his tray to nearly tip unto him. He scrambled to right his milk carton before it fell. Once settled, he sighed and mumbled, “That obvious?” Kathy smirked and bit into her carrot stick making a loud snap. Jon squirmed while opening his milk carton, he took a big swing, pointedly ignoring Kathy’s stare. “Why don’t you just confess?” Kathy asked. “Confess?” Jon spluttered, “He doesn’t even know I exist!” “Jon, you two were in the same history class last year. He knows who you are.” “Yeah. But we never talked.” “Then, how about you talk to him?” That would be so awkward…” Jon bit into his chicken strip. Kathy rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. Jon smirked and leaned in conspiratorially, “But I have a plan.” “And that is?” “I’m joining the journalism club.” “What!” Kathy yelled in surprise and then moderated her voice when some people who she startled glared at her, “ I thought you were going to join the baseball team this year, since, you know, your not in a cast anymore.” “The doctor has given the all clear and physical therapy is all done. The doctor was very impressed with how quickly I healed.” “Will they even let you do both clubs?” “Yep, I asked!” Their conversation was cut short when a murmur spread through the cafeteria like a wave. The main players of the baseball team stepped through the open double doors, all nine wearing their letterman jackets. In the lead was the most popular guy in school, Damian Wayne. Whose father was nicknamed the Prince of Gotham. Who in turn married an actual princess from some far off land, giving Damian actual royal blood. Girls wanted him and guys wanted to be him, but from what Jon had heard, guys wanted him too. Damian’s bright green eyes stood out against his brown skin, his gold earring glinted under the florescent light. He scanned the cafeteria with what looked like a sense of boredom. Colin, Jon called him Damian’s second in command, had one arm casually draped around Damian’s shoulders gesticulating wildly with his free hand. The group laughed at whatever the Colin said, but Damian only smiled as he started walking towards their unofficial table. Colin and the rest of the group broke off shoving and cracking jokes at each other while making line to pick up food. Kathy whistled beside Jon, “Now he’s someone who doesn’t know you exist.” “He looks and probably is, conceited.” Jon said offhandedly. “Look at him, he has reason to be.” “Doesn’t mean it’s cool.” “Doesn’t mean he’s not hot.” Jon turned to look at Kathy, but she wasn’t paying attention to him. Instead she was looking in Damian’s direction. Jon looked around and noticed that many were doing the same. He dragged his eyes back to look at Damian. The dude sat straight backed, elegantly eating his homemade meal from some fancy lunch bag that was probably more expensive than anything Jon owned, and scrolling on his phone completely ignoring the many eyes staring at him. Colin returned with the rest of the group nudging Damian and dropping his lunch tray with a loud smack, receiving an unimpressed glare in return. Colin smiled and placed a fruit cup in front of Damian. Jon personally didn’t get the allure. The couple of times he had seen Damian interact with others it was usually acerbic. Somehow that did not lessen his popularity and it left Jon dumbfounded. I good person should be good to others and being polite was a given, his Grandma said so and she was never wrong. Jon shrugged and went back to eating his school lunch. The rest could keep Damian he very much preferred Jay.

I hope you enjoyed it! Will post more soon, hopefully.

[sevasey51]

Hi! Could you do a pots!reader and connor where she is unable to continue working because of her frequent flares, maybe she also has chronic pain

Still Me

Summary: Y/N steps back from work due to chronic pain and frequent POTS flares. Though she struggles with guilt and identity loss, Connor reassures her with quiet strength and support. With her brothers and Connor by her side, she learns that slowing down doesn’t mean giving up—it just means healing differently.

The moment the words left her mouth, they sat heavy in the air between them.

“I… I think I have to stop working for now.”

Y/N was curled up on the couch in their apartment, a soft blanket draped over her legs and Charlie curled protectively against her side. The living room was quiet, sunlight pooling through the windows, catching in her tired eyes. Connor, sitting across from her with a medical journal in his lap, slowly closed it and set it aside, watching her carefully.

He already knew something had been weighing on her.

The past few months had taken a toll. Her Ehlers-Danlos had been flaring more frequently—more partial dislocations, more stubborn pain that lingered deep in her joints. Her POTS episodes had become harder to predict, and even the most routine days had become landmines of dizziness, brain fog, and unpredictable heart rate spikes. She’d pushed herself for weeks, dragging herself to work in the mornings and coming home utterly spent. He could tell it was hurting her more than she admitted, but she hadn’t said the words out loud until now.

Connor stood up and crossed the room, kneeling in front of her. “Come here,” he murmured, gently drawing her into a hug. His hand rubbed her back, careful and grounding. “You don’t have to do this alone. You never did.”

“I just…” her voice cracked slightly, muffled against his shoulder. “I hate feeling like I’m giving up. Like I’m not strong enough to push through it.”

“You’re not giving up,” he said, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “You’ve been fighting through pain that would knock most people flat. You’ve kept going, even when your body kept throwing everything at you. Taking a break isn’t weakness. It’s survival. It’s smart.”

She nodded, but her lip trembled. “I’m scared I won’t feel like myself without work. Like… I’m not me anymore.”

Connor shook his head, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re still you. You’re still brilliant and strong and funny, and honestly, the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.” That earned a tiny smile. “This isn’t forever. It’s a pause. And if it does end up being longer-term, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Charlie let out a soft huff from her spot beside them, pressing her head against Y/N’s arm. Connor gave their dog a fond smile, then turned back to her. “We’ll build a life that fits what you need. A life with fewer flares and more quiet mornings. Maybe even with more time for hobbies or projects or… hell, finally finishing that book you never get to read.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, her eyes glassy. “You always know what to say.”

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Because I love you. And you’re not alone in this. Not for one second.”

That afternoon, he called Will and Jay to let them know, and they came over that weekend with comfort food and dumb movies. She wasn’t ready to tell everyone, not yet—but the quiet support of her brothers helped. No one pushed. No one judged. They just were there.

Connor helped her set up a home routine—gentle stretching, time outside when she could manage it, pain management plans, and a stack of books she’d been meaning to read. Some days were better. Some weren’t. But every day, she had someone in her corner.

And that, she realized slowly, was more than enough.

[cherrycola27]

So It Goes

A Star Spangled Seresin One Shot

Warnings: Language, drinking, smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

Star Spangled Seresin Masterlist

I wrote this for the wonderful Jay, who helped inspire the character of Jaycee. This is a fun little one-shot she requested based on the Taylor Swift song "So It Goes"

...........................................

When Jaycee opened her email, she couldn't believe it. She had to read it again three more times just to make sure her brain wasn't playing tricks on her. Her lunch was quickly abandoned as she raced down the White House halls to Jake's office. She knew he would be in there alone.

After confirming with his assistant she burst into his office.

"Darlin? Are you okay?" Jake asked her with wide eyes. "I WON!" Jaycee shouted as she bounded over to Jake and jumped in his arms. His face lit up in instant recognition.

"You won the Washington Women in Journalism Award? Are you kidding me! Bade that's fucking amazing!" Jake cheered as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a heated kiss before spinning her around.

"I'm so freaking proud of you! I knew you would win your article was amazing!" Jake continued.

"The awards ceremony is in three weeks, and I get a plus one. Will you go with me? I know logistically it might not be possible but—" Jake raised his hand to stop her.

"Jaycee Rose, if you think I'm going to miss your big night, you're crazy. I'll make sure Henry and the team get everything worked out. You've done nothing but support me. Now it's my turn." Jake assured her. Tears pricked Jaycce's eyes as she launched herself back into Jake's arms.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'll RSVP right now!" She cheered. "I love you, I know you have to get back to work. I need to go find Y/N and tell her! And I have to call my mom!" Jaycee exclaimed.

"Wait? Am I the first person you told?" Jake asked in disbelief. "Of course, silly!" Jaycee chimed before giving Jake another peck on the lips and leaving his office.

Jake grined. It made his heart swell to know that he was the first person Jaycee wanted to share her news with.

..............

It took Jaycee a week and a half to realize what day her awards ceremony would be on. When she finally made the connection, she wanted to burst into tears. That night at dinner, she was unusually quiet.

Jake finally asked her what was wrong, and the tears poured out of her.

"Jake, I'm so sorry." She sobbed with her face in her hands. Jake was extremely confused. "Jay, what are you sorry for? What's wrong?"

"My WWJA ceremony. It's on your birthday!" Jaycee said with an exasperated sigh. "Okay?" Jake blinked slowly, still unsure about why Jaycee was apologizing to him.

"Okay? Jake! It's not okay! Your birthday is supposed to be the one day that is all about you! I can't make your birthday about me! That's not fair!" Jaycee stated as she waved her hands around for dramatic effect.

"Jaycee, I've had thirty-five birthdays all about me. It's fine if my thirty-sixth one is about you. Birthdays come and go, but my best girl winning a major award for something she's worked so hard at? That doesn't happen all the time. And what better way to spend my birthday than with the woman I love." Jake told her in a calming voice.

"So you're not mad?" Jaycee asked him in a sheepish tone. "No, I'm not mad. I'm happy for you. And I'm excited we get to do this together." Jake assured her.

Jaycee sighed and felt a tad better about the whole situation. But in her mind, she was plotting a way to make it up to Jake.

A few days later, she found herself staring at her computer screen. She couldn't believe she was doing this. Really, it was your fault for giving her the idea. Jaycee had come to you for help with an idea of what she could do for a subtle gift for Jake for his birthday. She wanted something they could both enjoy.

The color drained from her face when you'd suggested this. Jaycee immediately questioned you about it. "Jaycee, it's amazing. Trust me. There is a reason I don't mind state dinners anymore." You had told her with a wink. A blush crept over her face at the thought of you and Bradley, the president and first lady doing something more risqué, but she's couldn't exactly judge. She and Jake had been naughty in their fair share of places in the White House, but this— this was next level.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she quickly added the items you'd suggested to her cart, selected express delivery, and checked out. Three days later, she had the package tucked away in her side of the closet.

On the morning of Jake's birthday, Jaycee naturally decided to wake Jake up with morning head. After a romp in the sheets and the shower, you whisked her away for a day of hair, nails, makeup, and shopping.

That evening, Jake helped zip Jaycee into a stunning black gown with a tasteful slit on the side. Jake loved the way the neckling plunged to accentuate the swell of her breasts. He also lived for the fact that she kept her natural curls intact but had them half up for the evening. Jake would tell you without a shadow of a doubt that her curls were his favorite feature.

He carefully fastened the buckles of her black Louboutin pumps before trailing kisses up her ankle and leg. Before Jake could get to where he most wanted to be, Jaycee stopped him.

"Wait. I have something for you." She told him. "A birthday present."

Jake groaned. "I was trying to get to a present of my own," He huffed before standing up and taking the small box from her. His eyes went wide as he opened it up.

"Jay, are you serious right now?" He asked her. "As serious as a heart attack." Jaycee responded as she leaned back and rested her elbows on the bed before spreading her legs.

"Jaycee, we've done some pretty kinky things, but this is next level. I thought you were supposed to be my smart, good girl. But this—this is something a bad girl would do." Jake practically growled as he took the small, sleek toy from the box and admired it.

"Jake, you know I'm not a bad girl, but I do bad things with you. So what do you say, Mr. Vice President? Are you up for it?" Jaycee teased as she cocked her head to the side.

A sound somewhere between a growl and moan sounded from deep in Jake's chest he dropped to his knees and pushed her dress up high enough so he could pull her delicate lace panties down. They were already slick with her arousal.

Jake buried his nose in them and inhaled her scent. He reveled in the face that he was the only one who could make her feel this way.

Jaycee was thoughtly wet, but Jake wanted to make sure there would be no resistance. He held the toy up to her mouth. "Open," he commanded. Jaycee obliged him and wrapped her lips around the vibrator and coated it with her saliva. Jake pulled it from her lips before using his free hand to part her folds and spitting on her clit.

He mixed his saliva with her slick before securing the toy against her clit and sliding her underwear back in place. He licked the rest of her arousal from his fingers before hoisting Jaycee to her feet.

"You might want to go put on your lipstick. The car will be here in ten. I'll meet you downstairs." Jake breathed against her ear before grabbing his phone and the small remote and leaving.

Jaycee admired how good Jake looked in his tailored black tux as he walked away.

She was just about to put on her lipstick when she felt the toy turn on. The vibrations against her clit cause her to jolt forward. Her phone chimed and when she checked it, it was a cheeky text from Jake.

Just wanted to test it out. Let me know if it worked😉

He had typed.

Nothing but good vibes here 😏

Jaycee responded before capping her lipstick and slipping it into her clutch.

..............

Half an hour later, their private car dropped Jake and Jaycee off at the rear entrance to the Waldorf Astoria. Jake stepped out first before extending his hand and helping Jaycee out of the car.

He carefully placed his hand on the small of her back before escorting her into the building. During the short car ride, Jake had been having some fun with his birthday present, and Jaycee was already worked up. Jake had quickly found the perfect setting to keep her teetering on the edge, without going over.

All night, Jaycee glided across the ballroom, talking and interacting with journalists and news anchors from across the nation. Jake was more than happy to take a backseat and be her arm candy. He loved seeing her in her element. His heart swelled with pride every time some congratulated her.

They had both taken a break from the crowd to have a drink before dinner. Jaycee had just placed a champagne flute to her lips when Jake turned on the vibrator. Her eyes went wide as she tried not to choke on her drink before shooting Jake a warning look. He smirked back at her like he'd done nothing wrong.

Jaycee let the sensation of the vibrations wash over her. She bit down on her lip to keep a moan at bay. Jake pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear, "You have to keep quiet baby, don't want everyone here to know what a bad girl you are, do we?" Before placing a kiss to her forehead.

Jaycee sighed and took a deep breath as Jake turned the toy off.

Soon, it was time for them to take their seats for dinner. Jake extended his arm for Jaycee as they walked to their table. From an outside perspective, it looked like the vice president was being the perfect gentleman, but Jaycee and Jake both knew it was because she didn't trust her legs.

Dinner was rather eventful. Every time Jaycee tried to have a conversation, Jake would turn the toy on, causing her to lose her train of thought, or let out a sound of surprise that she would have to cover up as nerves or allergies. By the time dessert was served and speeches were being made, Jaycee was thoroughly worked up, and Jake was too happy with himself. He knew that she absolutely had to be dripping down her thighs, and he couldn't wait to take her up to the presidential suite later and have his way with her.

He'd already gotten a peak at what was under her dress earlier today, and he couldn't wait to see the rest of it.

By the time dessert ended, Jaycee excused herself to the washroom and grabbed Jake's hand to drag him with her. Jaycee stomped down the hall with Jake in tow. She pulled him into a nearby restroom and locked the door. Jake took the opportunity to turn the toy on the highest setting. Jaycee couldn't help the cry of pleasure that left her lips as Jake sat her on the fine marble countertop and stepped in between her legs.

She wrapped them around his waist and carded her fingers through his hair. They kissed each other roughly, and their tongues battled for dominance in the kiss.

Both of them were too caught up in the moment to worry about the inevitable lipstick smear that would be on Jake's face as Jaycee trailed her lips from his mouth to his jaw to his ear.

Jake ground his hips into hers. She could feel just how painfully hard he was under his black dress pants.

Each bump of his hips ground the toy further into her clit, causing Jaycee to tumble closers and closer to the edge.

"Jake, fuck, I'm going to—" She panted out as he kissed her breathless.

"Fucking cum for me baby, I wanna get you all nice and fucked out before you get on that stage." Jake groaned in her ear as he continued to grind against her.

Jaycee couldn't fight it. Her toes curled in her shoes as the first of hopefully many orgasms of that night wash over her. Jake slotted his mouth over hers in an effort to drown out the moan of his name that she let out.

He quickly turned off the toy before dropping to his knees. He carefully pulled Jaycees panties off of her and removed the toy. He slipped it back into its small case and tucked it in her clutch before placing a kiss on her clit. Jaycee lurched forward at the sensation but welcomed it.

Jake quickly stood up and made a show of pressing Jaycees drenched panties to his nose and inhaling before tucking them in the inner pocket of his jacket. "I fucking love that I'm the only one who can do this to you." He smirked.

Her quickly helped clean her up before trying to get the traces of her lipstick off of his face. Jaycee reapplied a fresh coat of the deep crimson shade and the two of them crept out of the bathroom and made it back to their seats, just in time for the presentation of the awards to start.

Jake beamed with pride as Jaycee accepted hers and gave a small thank you speech. He was just about to take a few press photos with her when an older woman in attendance stopped him. "Mr. Vice President, I'm so sorry to bother you, but you have a little something on your chin." She told him.

Jake thanked her before grabbing a cocktail napkin and wiping his face. He chuckled as the evidence of he and Jaycee's earlier activities stared back at him.

After shaking a few hands and saying their goodbyes, Jake took Jaycee by the hand and led her to the elevator. Once the door was closed, he punched the button to the top floor before pinning her against the wall. Jaycee's fingers made quick work of Jake's bow tie, but before she could undo the buttons of his dress shirt, Jake grabbed both of her wrists in one of his hands and pinned them above her head. He held her in place as his kissed her neck, Jaycee groaned as he lightly bit down on the juncture where her neck and shoulders met.

The elevator bell chimed, letting the couple know that they had arrived at their floor. Jake practically carried Jaycee down the hallway to their room.

Once they were inside, Jake scooped her up before carefully depositing her on the massive bed. He dropped to the floor to carefully unto the buckles of her heels and chucked them to the side. He was on a mission to finish what he started earlier, but before he could, Jaycee stopped him.

"Jake, I have one more surprise for you. Unzip me?" She asked him. Jake was more than happy to unzip her, but instead of letting her dress fall, Jaycee held it up around her as she turned to face Jake.

"Jake, I want you to get undressed except for your boxers, and then I want you to get a glass of whiskey and get comfortable on the bed and wait for me." Jaycee said before turning towards the bathroom.

Thankfully, their overnight bags had been brought up ahead of time. Jaycee grabbed hers and opened it.

She quickly let her dress fall to the floor before slipping into the black lingerie set she'd bought specifically for tonight. She took the pins out of her hair and fluffed it. Her makeup had smeared, but somehow it added to her sex appeal.

She slipped the baby doll cover over her lace set and strutted out of the bathroom.

Just like she'd asked him, Jake was waiting for her. He let out a wolf whistle as she stalked towards him. She stood at the foot of the bed and gave him a twirl so he could appreciate the full outfit.

Jaycee then climbed up the bed and straddled Jake's strong thighs.

"Happy Birthday, Mr. Vice President." She said to him in a sultry tone before taking the glass of whiskey from his hand and taking a long drink. Beads of the amber liquid slipped down her chin, but instead of swallowing, she grabbed Jake's jaw and tapped it with her thumb. He was more than happy to open it for her. Jaycee smiled before letting the warm liquid flow from her mouth into his. Jake eagerly drank it down before kissing her.

His hands roamed every inch of her lace cover body. His hands traced over her tattoo and scar on her side before cupping her breasts and tweaking her nipples through the lace. Jaycee rolled her hips against his as she pushed her chest into his hands.

Jake's calloused fingertips moved down to her to her hips before sliding down to her supple rear. He grabbed the globes of her ass cheeks in each hand. His left had blindly traced over her "fuck the patriarchy" tattoo that she had there.

She remembers the first time Jake saw it. They had to stop in the middle of sex because he couldn't stop laughing at it. She and Wise-woman had gotten the tattoos as a joke, but now, the both were literally fucking the patriarchy. Jake loved it so much that he would occasionally pull out and cum on it. He had more than one picture of Jaycee's ass tat covered in his cum on his phone.

Jake made quick work of the baby doll slip and tossed it off of Jaycee. He went to work on the ties that held her bra and panties in place, but she stopped him.

"Jaycee! Let me unwrap my present." He whined. "But it's your birthday, I want to take care of you." Jayce countered.

"You did this morning, now let me enjoy you how I want you." Jake said before flipping her under him.

He slowly trailed his lips down her body. He grabbed one of the satin ties of her panties in his mouth and tugged it loose with his teeth before repeating the action to the other tie. He dragged them the rest of the way down her legs with his mouth before tossing them to the side.

Jaycee eagerly spread her legs for him. She was still absolutely soaked from their events earlier. Not wanting to waste time, Jake immediately licked a stripe up her core and sealed his lips around her clit.

Jaycee threaded her fingers through his hair and held him close. Jake used his strong hands to keep her thighs apart as he licked, nipped, and sucked at the delicate flesh before him. Jake rolled her clit between his teeth as he sank two fingers into her tight heat. Jayce arched her back as he fucked them into her in long, slow strokes.

Jake massaged her gspot over and over again. "Look at you, darlin. You look so fucking pretty like his. My smart girl all laid out for me." Jake drawled out. His accent becoming thicker as pleasure crowded his senses.

Jaycee preened at his words as she worked her hips against his face and fingers. She was still high from her previous orgasm and the adrenaline from winning her award. Jake's praise was just winding the band tighter and tighter inside her.

"Do you know how fucking sexy you looked on that stage? Every man in the room wanted to fuck you. But only I'm lucky enough to do that. Aren't I baby? I bet they all wished they had your cum soaked panties in their pockets, but that's something only I get to do. Might have to hang them in my office. You'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd like everyone knowing exactly who you belong to?" Jake huffed out.

Jaycee was too lost in the feeling of his fingers working her to answer. Jake gave a harsh smack to her pussy. "Answer me." He commanded.

"Yes, sir! I'd love for everyone to know whose good girl I am." She cried out as she teetered on the edge of another orgasm.

"And whose good girl are you?" Jake asks her.

"Yours, I'm yours. Please, I'm so close." She cried out, hoping he'll give her what she wants.

"Who am I?" Jake presses further.

"Jake, you're my Jake, and I'm your good girl." Jaycee groans out. Jake loves to hear her say that, but it's not giving him the satisfaction her wants. He wants to have her begging for him.

"Hmmm, not good enough. I know you're close. Beg for it." Jake commands.

"Jake, Mr. Vice President, please. I'm so fucking close." Jaycee babbles as her thighs trembled.

"Fuck, Daddy, I'm your good girl. Please let me cum, Daddy!" She begs him, and that's when Jake's brain short circuts.

Jaycee has never called him "Daddy" before, and Jake never thought her had a daddy kink, but hearing it fall from her pretty pout has him drunk.

"Fuck. You are Daddys, good girl, aren't you? Show Daddy how good you can be and cum for him." Jake moans before sucking on Jaycee's swollen clit and speeding up his fingers.

Jaycee thrashes wildly above him, causing him to pin her hips down with his forearm.

With a final flick of his wrist, the dam breaks and Jayce cums hard as she rolls her hips against Jake's face. He laps at her core, drinking in every last drop of her until she's pushing him away.

He climbs back up her body and kisses her hard.

"Such a good girl for Daddy." He praises her as he pushes a few stray pieces of hair from her face.

"Fuck me, Daddy. Please." Jaycee breathlessly pleads with him.

Jake has never been one to deny her, so he pulls his boxers off and pumps his cock a few times before lining up with her entrance. Jake slowly sinks into her, inch by inch. Jaycee wraps her arms around him and claws at his shoulder blades as he stretches her.

When Jake is fully seated, he pauses before placing a tender kiss on Jaycee's lips.

He pulls back slowly before building a rhythm.

"Faster, Daddy, harder." Jaycee begs him as his hips snap into her over and over again.

Jake grabs onto the ornate headboard and uses it as leverage to drive into Jaycee harder and deeper. Her nails drag down his back, leaving red scratches in their wake. A physical reminder of their love-making that will linger for weeks to come.

Jake doesn't mind, though. The only thing he cares about is the woman underneath him, and the wonderful sounds he is drawing out of her.

"You feel so good wrapped around me, darlin. You're so fucking tight and wet and warm. S'like your pussy was made for me and only me." Jake punctuated each word with a thrust of his hips.

"Was made to be your good girl, Daddy." Jaycee coos out like she is drunk on the pleasure he is giving her. He feels her walls flutter and tighten around him, and Jake knows she's close.

He drops down to his forearms and slides one arm under her before bringing his other hand down to draw tight circles on her clit.

"Fuck, Daddy, right there. Don't stop!" Jaycee babbles out. Jake continues to rut into her until he feels her clench around him as her orgasm washes over her.

Jake follows behind her and spills deep inside her as she milks him for all he has.

He collapses on top of her. Jaycee keeps her legs wrapped tightly around him as she strokes her fingers through his hair.

Jake is still inside her, throbbing as his cock softens.

"Best—birthday—ever." He pants out as he looks at Jaycee with a lovesick smile that mirrors her own.

It takes nearly twenty minutes for the two of them to untangle from each other. After that, Jake draws a bath and orders room service. He and Jaycee spend the rest of the night wrapped up in each other, whispering praises and stealing kisses.

It may not be much time, but for the moment, they are thankful they only thing they have to get caught up in is each other.

Taglist: @daggerspare-standingby @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern @luckyladycreator2 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @sebsxphia @roosters-girl @diorrfairy @je-suis-prest-rachel @dakotakazansky @mizzzpink @a-linabean @amklibrary @jstarr86 @actuallyazriel @krismdavis @bradshawsbaby @wkndwlff @withahappyrefrain @gigisimsonmars @dempy @djs8891 @whatislovevavy @blckgrl-sunflower @mayhemmanaged

[myloveforhergoeson]

hi hello u have given me permission to info dump, so here’s four fun facts about some of my btr ocs!

noah was obsessed with curious george as a kid, and still has a george stuffie! him and carlos eventually get all the curious george movies + episodes on tape

saylor and kendall write a ton of songs together. in my universe, passing time by heffron drive ft logan henderson is actually a sayendall/ kaylor (need to decide on a shipname for them) cowritten song and it ends up on a deluxe version of btr’s 24/seven album.

elisa has a scar in between her eyebrows from falling and hitting her head on a rock as a baby. if you look really closely you can see the divot.

wren and olive watch home alone every year for christmas. even when they are apart.

and now i ask for four hcs for daisy and roxy!

you literally always have permission to info dump <3333 the noah and carlos fact in particular is really getting to me... the 2006 curious george movie is one of the first movies i remember seeing in the theater !! also the jack johnson soundtrack is like an inside joke between me and my friends. i relate to them on the loving curious george train

saylorkendall... the couple that you are... i am so interested in their story and i'm so excited to see what you write of them in the future <3 there's about a thousand ideas for writing songs together i have bouncing around in my brain and i'll play them like a movie in my head until i get your take hehe

poor elisa!! that must have been so scary :(( i feel like everyone had like one freak accident as a child and knowing that about her humanizes her so much more than you already have been... god i love her so much

the wren and olive one has me falling to the floor and shaking my fist at the sky bc that's literally me and my sister rn both of us had to watch over the garden wall apart this fall when we normally watch it together 😭😭

anddd idk if you wanted four for each, but here's the first few things that came to mind

roxy has been journaling since she was 10! she started writing things down during the day to tell her dad when he got home from work because she was tired of forgetting important things she wanted to share. she also used it to cope with her tougher feelings when he wasn't around to talk to. it just kind of stuck as she grew older and eventually turned into the songbook-journal hybrid she has now. she's got a bunch of the same type of moleskin notebooks in her room in all different colors detailing so much of her life

daisy submits some of her artwork to the chesterfield county fair every year!! she's never won a blue ribbon, but she does love getting to share some of her favorite spots around chester through her landscape sketches. that's her main art subject, but sometimes she draws her friends and family for fun! she thinks this blends with her want to be a historian pretty well - she could sketch out the historical scenes she studies to help provide a visual addition!!

though cassette tape is her favorite music format, rox knows that's not super practical in her day and age... so she saved up the money from her job at the radio station and bought a bright blue iPod to download (read: rip from limewire) her more recent music taste. she's usually listening to music when she's alone; she doesn't really care for silence !

daisy's brother jay-jay is older than her by 2 years! they're very close and confide in each other about nearly everything. he's looking into culinary schools now that he's graduated high school and she's terrified of being separated from him :( they've been around each other their entire lives and she doesn't really understand why he wants to go to school so far away from their home

[gravyhoney]

your ninjago ocs look so fun and interesting!!!!! how do they fit into the series and universe?? do they get a season of their own????

Aaaaaa ty!!

So I have this horrible brain disease that makes me violently afraid of being cringe. (Crazy, I know, considering how much I post about cringe culture being dead and stuff) so putting them so interwoven into the story as I did was already a huge step for me (again. Crazy. I’m aware) but they do not have fanseasons of their own quite yet.

I’m really only gonna address Charlie and Toni in this one, bc Mirai is so underdeveloped and I have yet to even draw him, and Kit is a traveler from my own universe and has their own entire set of lore and stuff, and it would be too much to describe atm so Kit. Sorry.

Toni fits in end of season 5, she’s like. Freshly 18 and pursuing a journalism career, so gets a ride out to Stiix (yes. While it’s an active battleground.) so she can stop Jay and interview him. From there, they’re mostly doing background shit (I know. All of the shit they do. In my brain.) until abtttttt season 7, they switch jobs to work at Chen’s Noodles n starts dating Skylor, and tries being helpful n do investigative shit for the ninja in season 8, but. It. Goes badly. Yay yippeeeeee

Charlie, I love Charlie shes my little eensy. Charlie is an intensely tragic character and uh. I did that to her. Rip Charlie. She’s not technically relevant or fitting into the series until season 8, but the lore that lead her to that point starts at season 1 when the great devourer tradgedy happens and Charlie is the only remaining survivor of her family at 13 (family being a strong word for her grandma, and single mom, both of which. Did not fucking like Charlie.) but. Charlie essentially had to dig herself out of the rubble, and realized quickly that she’d been brushed off and counted as dead which started her crazy villain arc (not. Not rlly.) a bit down the road, with nowhere else to turn, she joins the Sons of Garmadon, and just kinda. Works with them, beats up Toni when Toni starts getting too nosy (in season 8 now) but then kinda. Fucks off when Garmadon actually gets resurrected, bc Charlie’s heart really wasn’t in it and she kinda, didn’t expect them to actually do it so that one’s on her for being. Stupid. But whatever.

Charlie is also kinda relevant in DR. More relevant than in Ninjago, and more relevant than Toni ended up being.

Sorry. Wow. This is a long post and I feel silly as I’m typing it pls bear with me.

So like, end of season one Charlie is found being held in an Imperium prison and convinces Lloyd to help them out a little, and. Goes home with them (like a stray cat or smth) where Lloyd tells the kids ‘DONT fuck with her, literally don’t even look at her she’ll be gone soon’ but. Charlie doesn’t leave. And becomes someone they can trust a little more and someone the DR kids like a lot, so while Lloyd has an intense distrust n dislike for Charlie, Charlie is like ‘woooo yippeeeeee hahahah :)’ and genuinely isn’t trying to hurt them or anything.

Idk.

Sorry.

Long posts.

Let me LIVE.

[crystaleclipse10]

Have a headcanon, leave a headcanon.

Need a headcanon, take a headcanon.

Lloyd loves someone playing with his hair (I use this a lot lol) which helps him calm down or fall asleep

Kai can make himself a human heater with his powers and becomes the center of a giant group pile on the cold nights (he doesn't mind)

Cole is very good at singing and dancing but he rarely talks about it and usually avoids the subject

Post season 11 Zane keeps a journal every night as a backup memory in case his gets wiped (cause THAT never happens)

Nya knows the workings of a forge inside and out from helping Kai when they were younger. Actual metalworking is not easy for her but she can do it

Jay could learn to affect the electrical signals in people's brains if he wanted to. He knows about this, and it terrifies him, so he refuses to learn. But he could

Vengestone hurts to touch for elemental masters but is harmless to normal people

In Crystalized, whenever a ninja with a golden weapon uses their powers, the corrupted golden weapon charges up in equal strength