#politics don expose them

[clickvibes]

Femi Kuti - Politics Don Expose Them

Afrobeat legend Femi Kuti releases a powerful new song, “Politics Don Expose Them,” that confronts the rampant corruption and hypocrisy within the political system. Through his signature blend of infectious rhythms and thought-provoking lyrics, Kuti exposes the lies and deceit that have plagued society for far too long. It also comes with a crisp visual directed by Director Pink.

[leviathanleva]

Caffè Crema

[Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!FemReader]

Excitement for your morning coffee turns to panic when you bump into a mountainous stranger in a grey hoodie, sporting a skull mask. Sputtered apologies become a conversation in a corner of the café. And he’s so beat up, battered and bruised and scarred that you can’t help the words that leave your lips:

“Do you want to come home with me?”

[5k words ]

Chapter 1 "Caffeine Rush"

Airpods in your ears, music vibrating through your soul, you were ready for the world outside.

Sweet Saturday morning, after a week of work and barely any time for yourself, you’d decided on a treat to start off the weekend. You’d slept in late, phone alarm turned off and sleeping mask tugged on, new sheets prepared the night before because it was so comforting to wake up to the subtle smell of detergent. And once you were finally up, you’d decided fuck it, go out and get a nice steaming hot coffee in a cute paper cup from the local café, listen to Lofi or Lana Del Rey or whatever Spotify had prepared for your daily suggestions on the way, cozy up in a warm winter jacket and a thick scarf. Bless the crisp December air, it nipped at your cheeks and filled your lungs with sharp frosty air. It numbed your nose too and made your eyes water, but those weren’t as positive as the previous two affixes.

The streets were buzzing, a rare sight of the sun peeking through a blanket of grey clouds was shining down on you.

All in all, it was going to be a good day.

You waited impatiently for the light to turn green before crossing the street with a horde of nameless individuals, keeping in tandem with them.

Snow was still a no-show, you could only hope for its appearance at least on Christmas. The holidays without a fluffy coat of white powdering over everything from trees to rooftops just didn’t sit well with you, but at the end of the day, it was up to Mother Nature, not you. Anything but the ice rain you’d had the week prior; you weren’t ready to skate to the store again.

The bell above the café door shakes to life, signaling your entrance. You tuck one airpod in your pocket to listen in on the chatter in the comfy, coffee bean scented establishment, and also because you didn’t want to miss anything the cashier said. You were the anxious type after all, didn’t wanna miss a thing ever.

The heating system is blasting, cranked to the max, steam comes in large waves from behind the oak counter, be it from warm beverages or baked goods fresh from the oven, it lingers long enough for you to get a whiff before being diligently sucked away by the range hood. You unzip the top part of your jacket before getting too stuffy, loosen your scarf and take off your gloves. The staff, donned in their creamy yellow aprons, zip back and forth between tables like worker ants and you step into the line of waiting customers to keep out of their way.

The hardwood floor is licked spotless, looking down, you can almost see your reflection staring back at you. The hum of the large coffee grinder fills your exposed ear and you decide to turn off Spotify for the moment and bask in the café’s ambience instead.

The line moves, it’s almost your turn and you glance up at the display monitors listing off all the choices on the menu for today. Lattes, milkshakes, espressos, you decide on a large cappuccino, leave experimenting with unfamiliar drinks for another day when you’re feeling more courageous.

“Large cappuccino, please.” You say with a polite smile and fish out your wallet from your pocket.

Coffee is cheap here, cheaper than in most cafés and that’s one of the things that keeps you coming back to this place. It’s not easy to afford treats when you live on your own and have to pay the bills and groceries alone. However, you manage, and being able to afford a coffee or takeout once in a while is all the sweeter when knowing you owe nothing to nobody.

You take your cup and nudge your chin for the barista to keep the change before stepping away to the sidebar littered with plastic lids, sugar packets, and cheap wooden teaspoons for stirring your drink. After a brief consideration, you decide not to sweeten your coffee and only take a large lid, pop it over your cup and after zipping your jacket back up, you’re about to turn and walk out.

A walk through the park where you can sit down and enjoy your drink suggestively passes by your mind. Deciding that’s exactly what you will do, you palm through your pocket for your discarded airpods while nursing your paper cup to your chest.

And maybe it was your fault for not paying enough attention because you were buzzed to have a nice relaxing weekend. Or that you’d already achieved your first goal of the day and you were about to have a nice vibey stroll while hurrying to stuff your ears with music before you left the café. Maybe you’d jinxed your Saturday by confidently thinking it would be a swell time and nothing wrong would happen for once.

You should have known better. You should have suspected something would go wrong.

Something always goes wrong.

You whirl around with the intent of being on your way, expecting the glass doors to be in view, but they aren’t. A mountain of flesh and muscle stands before you. And your reaction time is too slow to save yourself or your coffee.

You jump, your hand flinches and the paper cup goes flying, a gasp upon your lips so loud it turns heads. You can only watch in horror as it makes contact with a wide chest clad in a grey hoodie, the lid pops off from the force of the impact and the hot contents inside go in every direction.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my freaking God.”

One hand goes up to cover your agape mouth while the other clutches at the zipper of your jacket as panic crawls up your neck and prickles your scalp.

The worst part is that your coffee wasn’t the only casualty. The poor guy had dropped his beverage to pull his hoodie off his chest the moment your scalding beverage had soaked it.

There was steam coming off it. It was boiling and you’d spilled it on him.

You wanted to die.

And he’s fucking terrifying too. Easily two heads over you and built like a truck. The intricate skull mask obscures the lower half of his face and you can’t discern if he’s absolutely pissed or just mildly uncomfortable with the large stain plastered on his top.

His eyes are sharp, trained on his ruined hoodie, crow’s feet crinkled, and you’re grateful they’re not directed at you because you were a step away from breaking down on the spot.

A stone lodged itself in your throat.

If he didn’t curse you to oblivion, he’d either break you in half, or worse, sue you.

You can’t get fucking sued. You don’t have the money to get sued.

So much for having a good day…

“Oh my God, I’m sorry.” You sputter out and grab a handful of paper towels from the counter. You’re glancing up at him every now and again for fear of his patience running out. “I’m so so sorry.”

Shaky hands are tapping away at his top, soaking in the liquid as best you can while trying to keep from breaking down. Your tongue is arrested between your teeth, bitten down on hard in a self-soothing attempt. Your fingertips are stained with coffee because there‘s so much of it that it’s turning the paper towels to mush. You couldn’t care less about that or that you were practically sweating bullets under your jacket.

All you hoped for was that you hadn’t caused the poor guy a burn.

“ ‘s okay.” He murmurs in a thick British accent while watching you fuss over him with growing anxiety. The jitter in your movements would be almost comical if not for you practically hyperventilating on him.

“Excuse me, are you alright?”

“No.” You whine, before you can stifle your voice to normalcy, and turn to the cashier peeking from behind the counter with watery eyes and a deeply carved frown. “No. I’m so sorry, we spilled our drinks. I mean, I spilled - ” You take in a breath to compose yourself and brush a hand over your forehead, shoulders slumping. You’re giving your best apologetic expression, practically mourning over the mess you’d made at your feet and of the man looming next to you.“ – I’m sorry. I can clean it up if you have a mop.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, miss. We’ll mop it up.” The cashier replies, bless her, and signals for one of the waiters to fetch the cleaning supplies. The friendly smile never wavers from her balmed lips; neither does the caffeinated twinkle in her eyes.

She’s most likely seen this sort of thing plenty of times, but for you, it’s a first and it’s your fault to top it off. It’s not an easy pill to swallow and despite the atmosphere being anything but hostile, you can’t help but still feel guilty.

Of course, this had to happen to you of all people. You weren’t allowed a single day of peace and tranquility.

With the main cause of disturbance taken care of, you turn back to your victim, who’s joined you in trying to dry off his hoodie. Your stomach churns at the sight, and you’re afraid to look around in case all eyes are on you two. You can’t bear the scrutiny, even though most people have probably resumed their dwellings by now.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt? I’m so sorry, sir.” You ask and reach for more paper towels, pressing them against his chest more so to show you’re very apologetic and trying to fix the situation rather than actually fixing it because most of the coffee has already come out.

You glance up at him after mustering up the courage, curious as to what awaited you next. He returns your gaze with one of indifference or calmness, you can’t tell, blinks at you slowly, as if he’s just now taking your flustered form for the first time, then he speaks, more clearly this time.

“It’s fine.”

A server arrives with a mop in hand and you both step away from the mess to let them clean it up. You take the lead unintentionally and guide the stranger towards one of the vacant tables in the corner of the café, away from prying stares.

You pick the chair next to the wall that has a large ficus partially looming over the seat. Maybe with enough luck, you can disappear inside it.

Finally, unzipping your jacket because you’re about to faint from the stuffiness, you lay it on the cushioned backrest of the chair and pat it down to make sure you’d not accidentally dropped any of your belongings during the accident. You tug at your sweater to air out the thin sheen of nervous sweat that’s formed over your skin, brush off the strands of hair that have come to stick to your face and take off your scarf.

The stranger sits on the opposite chair, paper towel still to his chest and sucking out any leftover residue. The stain won’t leave your vision no matter how hard you try to rip the two separate. It’s the worry gnawing at your gut that keeps you rooted to your spot, wanting to approach but too afraid to do so.

But so far he’s been a nice guy, hasn’t said one single bad word to you.

Your mind reels with how red and irritated his skin must be, praying it hadn’t blistered up already. You have half a mind to ask him to take off his hoodie so you can take a look.

A fresh wave of panic wraps its dainty fingers around your neck in squeezes, sends needles to prick over random places on your body.

And all this time, you’ve been sputtering out apologies like a broken record, his dismissal of your regret not even reaching your ears let alone registering.

“Should I call an ambulance? Oh my God, I’ve never had to call an ambulance in my life…” You ask, mumbling the last part to yourself as the realization hits you square in the face. For a brief moment, you forget how to dial the emergency line because you’ve never had to use that number before. “I’m sorry, sir – I – I didn’t mean – ”

You continue to blabber while searching your jacket pocket for your phone. The guy might have said nothing at your suggestion, but you wanted to be safe and have your phone at the ready anyway. And you’re too preoccupied going ballistic with panic in your own little world to hear him repeatedly tell you that everything is fine and you’ve done no big deal, he doesn’t need an ambulance and that he’s fine.

“Hey!” He grabs the crux of your elbow and pulls you before him, a large knee on either side of your thighs. A startled noise crawls up your throat but you make no move to step away. You’re staring at him as your hands disappear inside his and he jerks them slightly, his voice lowering now that he’s caught your attention finally. “Relax. It’s alright. Happens.” His comfort is rough. His voice gruff and sounding more like a scold than anything. He shakes you a bit too hard, not used to handling something as delicate as you, and pulls you down enough to make solid eye contact. “Alright?”

You nod and avert your gaze away, soggy paper towels left in a pile on the table making your fingers twitch with the need to do more. Apologies simply aren’t enough, not when he’d probably need to apply ointment on his chest for a few days after your little fiasco.

Why did have to be such a hot mess all the time?

“At least…Let me buy you another drink. On me? It’ll make me feel better.” The frown is still tugging on your lips as you speak, shyly looking at him from under your lashes. “Please?”

He sighs softly at your relentlessness and shrugs before letting your hands slip from him, having kept them in his grasp for longer than he should.

“Sure.”

He leans back in his chair and readjusts both his hood and the cap poking beneath it before resting his elbows on the table.

“What did you order?” You question while fetching your wallet.

The innocent look you toss him has him forcing himself to stop staring at you like a creep. He clears his throat and rubs over his tired eyes tenderly before answering.

“Black tea with milk.”

And so you reorder your cappuccino, get him his tea and decide that a simple butter croissant as an apology is enough for the moment. Every time you turn around to glance at him, nervous that he’d simply slip away from your overbearing presence, he catches your stare without fail. Heat gathers around your ears and your lips purse unintentionally every single time and you quickly turn back to the cashier, pretending you hadn’t just been discovered ogling him.

The chair looks too small to encompass his hulking frame comfortably, the table is no different, but you guess he’s used to it by now. A man of his stature isn’t a common occurrence here. Poor thing probably has to bow to enter through most doorways and have his shirts custom-made with how wide his shoulders were. If he wore shirts at all that is.

He looks like he’s brooding when you return with the order, fingers linked together and thumbs dancing around each other.

You set the tea by his side, note the callouses and scarring around his knuckles, the roughness of his skin. Your first thought is that he’s a construction worker, it would explain his size, the biceps that are as big as your head and straining against the stitches of his hoodie, the casual clothes, and the dark circles under his eyes that make it easy for anyone to guess that he doesn’t rest enough. But then he pulls his mask down and lets it rest under his chin as he takes a prolonged sip from his drink. You note the crookedly mended nose after a trauma so potent it made your eyes water at the thought of what pain he’d endured. There’s a gash running along his thin lips, multiple ones that stand out from the light stubble peppering the lower part of his face, deep ones, ones that you guessed had needed stitches and took forever to properly heal.

Now you’re not so sure he’s a construction worker.

“So what do you do for a living?” It rolls off your tongue before you can stop it. You laugh nervously and raise a hand in a soothing motion before he even has a chance to answer. “You don’t have to tell if you’re not comfortable. I’m just curious.”

The mug of tea pauses before his lips and he gives you a skeptical look.

“Military.”

“Oh.” You blurt out and awkwardly take a sip from your coffee, nearly choking at how hot it is.

And that’s precisely the answer Ghost expected. It was a big turnoff for many people when they learned his career path, mostly because the news only displayed the bad outcomes of his work and never the good. He might have saved this entire city a week ago from a bombing and nobody would know.

It came with the territory and he half expected you to think up some lousy explanation as to why you suddenly had to go.

But you aren’t like that at all because of course, you aren’t. Why would it be made easy for him to forget you and move on with his day when you could be sweet and open and give him more reason to burn you into the crevices of his conscience instead? Why would you make an excuse and leave when you could stay and kindle the embers of his humanity and make yourself space to be a permanent memory?

That’s just his typical luck.

“Must be tough.” You muse, absentmindedly taking a napkin and wiping off the milk and tea mustache staining his upper lip, as if tending to a messy toddler. It comes instinctively and you don’t fight it until your fingers are already being poked by his stubble. “But thanks for keeping us normal folk safe.” You give his wide-eyed stare a warm smile, and tilt your head slightly to one side.

You notice the subtle way in which he moves his chin towards your hand, apprehensive of you pulling away. As if he’s fighting his demons to lean into your touch, to rest his cheek against your palm and close his eyes because he hasn’t been offered softness in so long that he doesn’t remember what it feels like anymore.

You don’t mind that his large hand reaches to try and still your wrist, aching for more delicate touches, but stops before coming in contact with your flesh, pulled back by self-deprecating restrain. You almost want to encourage him, he looks visibly altered by your simple gesture, like a dog who’d been beaten all his life and was given a treat for the first time.

“What happened to you, old soldier?” You want to ask gently, pry a little while you cup his face and let him rest on the softness of your palm, close his eyes for a brief moment of respite.

Your heart aches for him.

But then you remember he’s a stranger and the moment shatters.

The smile vanishes from your face, the warmth dissipates and you flinch back.

“Sorry.” You rush to say and crumble up the napkin in your hand before tossing it on the table and trying to brush off the suffocating awkwardness. “You had something there.” You motion to your upper lip before drowning in more coffee, hoping it will ease the discomfort.

Just what the hell had you been thinking?

And he’s not far behind you on that note. The flicker of softness dies in his chocolate browns and the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth stills and dips into neutrality. The exhaustion returns to his features and his gaze flits away from you as he gathers himself back together.

“You should eat tha’ ‘fore it gets cold.”

Your eyes trail to where he’d nudged his chin and you see the butter croissant you’d purchased along with your drinks. You giggle, it turns into a light laugh when his head cocks to the side in confusion because he’s yet to realize you’d gotten it for him.

Because why would he? He’s a soldier, he gets bullets and grenades, not tea and croissants.

Poor creature, sweet scarred sufferer, with so much weight on his shoulders you couldn’t imagine bearing.

“It’s for you.” You push the small plate closer to him and flick your hand for him to dig in, treat himself on your behalf if he won’t do it on his own accord.

“What?” He reels back in his seat slightly at your words, sets down his drink and tenses up. There’s so much disbelief there that it’s almost comical.

It’s like he’d never been treated before.

Maybe he hadn’t been.

Jesus Christ, what if he actually hadn’t been?

“I mean it’s the least I can do after drenching you in coffee.” You say and press the lid of your cup to your lips, hiding the sympathetic smile from view lest he takes it as pity.

You didn’t pity the man, not in the slightest, but from the tired eyes to the worn clothes, sunk-in shoulders and need for anonymity, you guessed he’d not seen much kindness.

It was easily discernable that he wasn’t used to taking care of himself. Coming to a café to get a drink was probably the maximum self-indulgence he’d permit himself.

“Didn’t ‘ave to.” He grumbles out, voice hoarse and cutting off at the end.

“I wanted to.” You say and wave off his meager comment.

Gods, you wanted to bathe him in sugar and softness.

He tugs the plate before him hesitantly, looking over the croissant as if not trusting it or you, then he picks it up. A small bite at first, one of apprehension before the treat melts on his tongue and awakens his taste buds. He finishes it in two mouthfuls, barely chews and you’re inclined to ask if he wants another, you’re ready to feed him the whole bakery stand if he so wishes. But he declines, whether from embarrassment or mistrust, you didn’t know.

You just know he’s hungry.

You give him your name while he’s washing down the croissant with his leftover tea, just throw it out there in the hopes that he’ll give you his. And he does after heaving a sigh.

“Simon.”

“Pretty name.” You note, toss him a friendly smile that’s a silent invitation for him to say more. “Nice to meet you then, Simon.”

But your friendliness doesn’t breach his defenses a second time. He eyes you with an unreadable expression, watches you slurp your coffee while you’re left to wonder if your compliment had been a mistake.

You might have been coming off as too friendly, trying to suck up to him after ruining his top and that was the reason why you were so nice. Or maybe he thought that there was a hidden agenda behind your acts, that you’d want something in return for your kindness and that’s why he kept his guard up.

Action without a need for reciprocation didn’t exist in his world. Nobody was stupidly selfless enough to just give and not want anything in return. But you were right there, proving him wrong and he wasn’t sure that fact was a fact anymore.

Throughout his internal debate, you’re doing your best to remain casual but it’s difficult with those dark orbs boring into your soul. It’s even more difficult when the silence settles, so you decide to ramble and keep the spirits up until he feels comfortable enough to join.

It might come off as annoying, but you’re sure he’ll stop you if you’re becoming too much to handle.

You tell him about your job, a brief summary of how rough your week had been that that was the reason why you’d come here this morning to treat yourself. You tell him you’re clumsier than you’d like to admit, that you can’t imagine drinking tea first thing in the morning. You tell him that you’d love to have a pet one day, but your landlord doesn’t permit any, ask him if he has pets or would want any. Then you ask if he’s more a cat or a dog person.

And throughout the entire time, he’s staring at you with this undigestible look and you have no idea what to make of it.

The caffeine pumping in your veins helps keep your monologue going until finally he speaks up.

“Bothering you?”

“What?” You spit out, cease your rambling and scrunch your brows at him in confusion.

“The face.” He says, motioning towards his partly obscured face like it’s so obvious. “Ain’t a pretty mug to look at.”

You blink at him silently, at a loss for words at his not-so-kind statement. Your mouth parts, struggling to form a coherent reply because you’re absolutely thunderstruck that he thinks so lowly of you as to believe you’d be affected by such a thing.

Then again, he doesn’t know you, and neither do you him.

But the fact that he’s polite enough to ask while already anticipating the answer tells you that he might have had this conversation one too many times already. Or maybe he hadn’t, maybe the mean comments and ugly remarks were all in his head and he hid his face to stifle those rather than hide from other people.

You don’t know which alternative is sadder.

“No! Not at all.” You say slowly, accenting every word that comes out of your mouth, with eyes trained on his and refusing to blink in case you missed anything. “You’re handsome, really.” You dare to reach out for him and rest your hand atop his, gentle and ready to pull back in case his features portrayed any hint of discomfort with your actions. “Plus your scars mean you put yourself before me to keep me safe, right? Can’t judge you for that.”

Now he’s the one left speechless.

Wordlessly, he twists his wrist, rolls his hand around and slowly unclenches his fingers to let yours through. And your hand is so soft and warm when it slips over his mauled palm, even the skin is a stark contrast because yours is so smooth, spotless, perfect, compared to his.

He runs his large thumb over your knuckles, relishes the tingly feeling it gives him, watches intently because he’s sure that as soon as his eyes move to somewhere else, you’ll vanish and it’ll all be over. Your fingers fall against his wrist where his pulse leisurely beats, only quickening when you shift in your seat because he thinks you’ll pull away.

Manicured nails trace over the scars poking from beneath the sleeve of his hoodie and he shivers, the hairs on his arms rising. He lets you tug the sleeve back, wanting to know how far the violent marks go. Soon enough black and grey ink peeks from under the fabric and a ghost of a smile tugs at his lips at how delighted you seem.

“Oh, I love tattoos…” You hum while tracing the tips of your fingers over it.

“Got any?” He asks absentmindedly, almost mechanically as all his attention is focused on the little hand exploring his own.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” You giggle, eyes closing briefly in delight as you bask in the fuzzy atmosphere.

He bites his tongue at that, decides now isn’t the time for flirty remarks, bids you too esteemed to fall for a sleazy comeback that might result in him naked in your bed. No, you were made to be courted, won over with effort and flowers and all the things he hasn’t bothered with in the past.

You were the type of woman that he avoided for fear of messing things up, someone who deserved better than him and he wasn’t ashamed of admitting that. Yet here you were, practically thrust in his arms by chance.

“Do you want another tea?” You ask because his drink is gone and what’s left at the bottom of your cup is two sips at most. And you don’t end this to end, you don’t want him to leave just yet.

“I’m good.” He answers and retracts his arm before standing. “Gonna ‘ave a smoke outside. Cheers for the tea.”

It’s not a goodbye, but it still makes your heart ache and your mind switches to turbo mode to try and think of something.

Your next question doesn’t come from a place of desire or lust. You’ve no intent of trying to get the battered soldier into your bed and use him for selfish pleasure. You’d never let yourself be so cruel.

“Do you want to come home with me?”

You ask because to you, he’s a stray in need of a home, someone to take care of him a little and nurse him back into a better shape before his next big military mission. It’s naïve, stupid really, to think a grown man such as himself can’t take care of himself.

But the way he looks tells you a sad story and you’d spoken before thinking. Now you’re left with a hot face and a fluttering stomach as he stares at you over his shoulder with something akin to surprise.

“I mean…for lunch, sometime. My treat of course.” You say next, trying to salvage the moment before it got too awkward and you were forced to go to the toilets and hyperventilate while beating yourself up internally. “You don’t have to – ”

“ – Yeah.”

And you swear you saw his eyes squint with a smile hidden somewhere behind the bulk of his shoulder.

Chapter 2 >>>

Masterlist

[chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct]

So, project 2025 has been deleting their PDFs but a few lovely people have posted the list of books they want to ban and other than the fact that the entire list is stupid, here's some that stuck out to me + the reasons listed next to them. Most of the books on the list are lgbtq+ books which one would expect to find there, so I just did ones I didn't expect.

The Holy Bible - Challenged for religious beliefs and graphic content.

A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin - Sexual violence, political intrigue.

Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson - Death and religious content.

Captain Underpants series by Dav Pilkey - Toilet humor and "disobedience."

Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak - Critique of the Russian Revolution.

Deadly Deceits by Ralph McGehee - Former CIA agent's critiques of the agency.

Emma by Jane Austen - Complex gender themes, social critique.

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury - Censorship and media manipulation by the government.

Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling - Accusations of promoting witchcraft.

Howl by Allen Ginsberg - Explicit sexual content, anti-establishment themes

Hop on Pop by Dr. Seuss - Concerns over violence against parents.

I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter by Erika L. Sánchez - Mental health, sexual content.

It's Perfectly Normal by Robie H. Harris - Sex education content.

It's So Amazing! by Robie H. Harris - Sex education content.

None Dare Call It Conspiracy by Gary Allen - Discusses alleged hidden global power structure.

None Dare Call It Treason by John A. Stormer - Anti-communist and conspiracy-focused.

One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn - Critique of Soviet labor camps.

Operation Paperclip by Annie Jacobsen - Exposes secret U.S. program involving former Nazis.

My Brother Sam Is Dead by James Lincoln Collier - Violence, anti-war themes.

Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt vonnegut- Anti-war themes.

Spycatcher by Peter Wright - Ex-MI5 agent's account of intelligence operations.

The Art of Happiness by the Dalai Lama - Criticism of religion, perceived political messages.

The Awakening by Kate Chopin - Female independence, sexuality.

The Book of Night Women by Marlon James - Slavery, graphic violence.

The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C. Wrede - Magic, feminism.

The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein - Themes of selfishness, parenting.

The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy - Examines class and caste issues in India.

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood - Critique of religious extremism and patriarchy.

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas - Examines police violence and racial injustice

The Hunger Games Series by Suzanne Collins - Depicts oppressive government and rebellion.

The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster - Political subtext, wordplay.

The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver - Critique of colonialism and missionary work.

The Power and the Glory by Graham Greene - Critique of religion and political oppression

The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle - Religious critique.

The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli - Seen as a critique of political ethics.

The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare - Often challenged for themes of submission of women in marriage.

Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer - Themes of violence, supernatural elements.

V for Vendetta by Alan Moore - Political rebellion, violence.

War is a Racket by Smedley D. Butler - Critique of war profiteering.

Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein - Dark humor, "rebellious" themes.

Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak - Themes of rebellion, dark imagery.

Where's Waldo? by Martin Handford - Alleged inappropriate illustrations.

White Noise by Don DeLillo - Critique of consumerism and modern society.

Women Who Run with the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes - Feminist themes.

Yertle the Turtle by Dr. Seuss - Seen as political allegory.

Zorba the Greek by Nikos Kazantzakis - Critique of authority and societal norms.

[erwinsvow]

“okay, now turn around. show ‘em the back.” you follow rafe’s instructions, spinning around in a circle, the pretty white babydoll set floating up and revealing the plush of your ass and the matching panties underneath. “slower. good.” 

rafe takes a step back, camera in his hand, trying to record all of the details of the scene—your pretty hair, your done-up face, the new lingerie he’d just bought you today.

making a home video had, surprisingly, been your idea, in exchange for the new set you were wearing now. rafe had agreed in a heartbeat. he almost wants to make you regret ever suggesting the idea.

“now get on the bed.” you comply, falling gently on your back with spread legs, raising your head to look at your boyfriend, his face covered by the hand-held camera.

“rafe-” you start with a whine, but he interrupts you, crawling in closer, a hand resting on your knee.

“nuh-uh. don’t wanna hear it. your idea, remember?” you nod. “yeah, that’s right. now turn around. head down, ass up.” 

you adjust your body accordingly, your head resting on his pillow and arching your back for rafe. your face flushes at the very thought of what he’s recording right now—your compromising position and exposed panties. you know rafe, so you know he’s zooming in on the wetness pooling between your legs and the growing dark patch on your pretty white underwear.

the position is a little uncomfortable, but nothing you’re not used to at this point. you wait impatiently, hoping rafe decides he’s had enough of the home video and starts to do what you’ve been waiting for all day. your entire body squirms when rafe moves your panties aside, fingers prodding your tight hole exploringly. you want to collapse on your stomach, but you stay upright, thighs trembling and fingers clenching his sheets.

“rafe—!” it comes out in another whine, while rafe slides two of his fingers into your pussy, scissoring them and stretching you out. you silence yourself by dropping your head onto the pillow, mouth getting covered with a mouthful of cotton.

“‘s okay. let ‘em hear you. it’s good.” he keeps recording, focusing the camera on his fingers pushing in and out of your wet hole, glistening with your juices. he laughs to himself, shushing you when you start to question why. he adds a third to distract you, your question long forgotten and moans spilling from your mouth. “feel good, huh? y’like putting on a show? bet you do.”

you move your hips in tandem with his fingers, swaying like you’re actually getting fucked, noises muffled against his pillow. 

“wha’s that? can’t hear you.” rafe brings the hand holding the camera close to your pretty face, pulling your hair back in a tight yank to lift your face. he keeps an eye on the screen, recording your fucked-out face while your voice becomes clearer.

“o-only for you, rafe! jus’ for you-” 

“good girl, that’s right.” he lets your head fall back, bringing the camera back to your pussy. rafe pulls out his fingers, listening to your whimper and making sure he captures the way you clench around nothing. “don’ worry. gettin’ what you want now.”

you hum in pleasure, twisting your head to look back at your boyfriend hovering over you, unbuckling his belt and taking out his dick, already hard. you can only keep looking for another second, because rafe runs the tip over your pussy, rubbing against your clit momentarily and making your eyes flutter shut instantly. 

“o-oh. please, rafe-”

“so polite. good girl.” he repeats his motions, making your body tense up while you finally get some contact to your sensitive core. just when you think he’s gonna slide inside you, he doesn’t, pulling away instead. you look up for a second, watching rafe hover the camera over your pussy again, focusing on some other detail he’s trying to capture.

“rafe, please, just put it in-”

“yeah?” you think maybe you should have just shut up and been patient. he shrugs, setting the camera down on the bed, near your head, facing the two of you and so close that it can probably see the red on your cheeks. “okay. don’t wanna hear any complaints-” 

you think you blacked out after he said that, since you can’t remember anything. rafe snaps his hips back and forth, the sound of skin slapping filling his bedroom. you cry out against his pillow, at how fast he’s going, how full you feel, how stretched out you are right now. rafe’s hands grope your ass, holding you in place while he fucks you, at such a speed you think he’s trying to break you. finally it’s too much, and you grab onto his headboard, trying to pull yourself away to get a second to catch your breath.

“rafe, rafe, it’s too much—” he holds you back firmly, adjusting to mount you completely, not stopping his motions for even a second.

“you asked for it,” he replies, pulling your hair back and positioning your face right in front of the lens. “stay like this. wanna see how it looks when you cum on camera.”

[angelpregdreams]

maggie the midwife 2

maggie the midwife (1) (2)

content: twin birth, fpreg

“Miss Maggie! Excuse me, Miss Maggie!”

Halfway down the small dirt path that led to her small cottage, Maggie heard someone call out for her. The voice was masculine and her brows furrowed in slight confusion when she saw a tall man in leathers jog up to her fence. She gave him a polite smile, “may I help you…?”

“Forgive me, ma'am - Quinn.” He introduced himself and stepped inside her gate, to which Maggie raised her brow. “I hope I'm not interrupting but my sister by marriage - she…her waters broke, and she sent me to find you. She's heavy with her twins and said you have been tending to her.” 

He spoke of Cecelia, a woman trapped in town as her husband went north to try and find work. She was heavily pregnant with twins and had been overdue for almost two weeks now. 

About time for them to arrive. 

“Ah, yes,” Maggie soothed quickly, to ease the poor man's mind. “I know your sister-by-marriage. Do I have a moment to collect my gear equipment or shall I send you to fetch it for me?”

The man paused, fully confused what she meant by that question and took several seconds before he shook his head. His dark hair bounced with the motion, and Maggie couldn’t help but stare as he finally came back to himself, which appeared to be confident. “You should have time, her water’s spilled minutes ago, she should be fine for a bit…right?”

His sheepishness returned and Maggie smiled, before turning back to the pathway towards her cottage. “Come then,” she called out behind her, “let me collect my things, then we can return to Cece.” 

Quinn followed behind her as she entered her home, politely standing outside until she asked for his help to carry her extra bag. Then he dutifully stepped up to take what she requested, eager to assist. He appeared almost puppy-like, and internally, Maggie found it very attractive. Her eyes diverted away from his frame just as he stepped back outside her home and turned to look at her expectantly.

“Do you have everything you need?” He asked, antsy that he had been away from his sister-by-marriage for several minutes now. 

Maggie nodded and shut the door behind her, “yes! Let’s make you an uncle, shall we?”

That made the tall man take on a lighter step, excited now, but knowing the rest of the night would likely tax his brother’s wife. Maggie noted his softer personality, while also donned in knight’s armor. It was a charming thing, a chivalrous knight with the brightness of a sunflower. Briefly she hoped he would linger with Cecelia, knowing she was alone without her husband near would have to be hard, perhaps Quinn would be a welcome comfort. And Maggie could admire him a bit longer. 

Cecelia’s home was tucked behind the main market, a bit hard to find as one had to wander deep into an alley, but Quinn walked there with familiarity when it failed Maggie, and they were in front of the small home. Quinn didn’t bother knocking, instead just stepping inside and calling out for Cece. Following behind him, Maggie slipped her smaller bag off of her shoulders and glanced around, trying to find the laboring woman.

It did not take long to locate her. Cecelia was sitting on an old armchair, her fingers digging into the arms as she moaned loudly in pain. Her skirts were hiked up onto her knees, still keeping some modesty, but her front laces were tugged at roughly, exposing one of her breasts. Maggie gave the woman a smile and placed her bag down next to Cecelia, asking Quinn to do the same with her other bag that had the clean linens. 

“How are you doing, Cece?” Maggie asked calmly and stepped around the two to enter the small kitchen. She found a basin of water and dipped her hands in, listening to Quinn come to Cecelia’s side, asking her again how she felt.

“I’m fine…” Cecelia said quietly, as she seemed to come down from her pain. She took the hand Quinn offered with a tired grin as Maggie came back into the room. Cecelia shifted in the chair, parting her knees slightly, and grimacing. 

“What’s wrong, mama?” The midwife came around to Cece’s front, kneeling in front of her and lifting the woman's skirts. 

“Nuh - just hurts…” Cece breathed, squeezing Quinn’s hand before looking up at him with wide eyes, “please, don’t leave…”

“Hush, girl, I won’t,” Quinn said without pause, getting on his knees next to the chair - politely trying to keep his eyes averted from where Maggie was now revealing the lower half of Cecelia. The midwife gave him a reassuring nod to encourage him to stay if the mother wished and pushed her skirts all the way up and guided her to lift a thigh, letting her have full view of her red folds. 

Cecelia was very swollen, her vagina bulging slightly as the first baby sat in her birth canal. Maggie was slightly surprised at the speed of the first’s descent but also was not sure when the pains started, simply when her waters broke. Quickly, and before another contraction happened, she pushed two fingers into the laboring woman, earning a gasp from Cece and an apologetic look from Maggie. Quinn’s eyes flicked over to Maggie and saw where her hand disappeared into, his cheeks turning pink slightly, before he looked away from both women.

“First is sitting low, honey,” the midwife commented, catching Quinn’s eyes before he averted his gaze, “have you felt the urge to push yet?”

A contraction took over Cecelia then, her body tensing and trying to curl into itself. She squeezed Quinn’s hand tightly and he visibly winced, but uttered not a sound as the woman in labor groaned loudly. With her fingers still buried in her charge’s vagina, she felt her walls tighten as her body rode the wave of pain. Maggie took deep breaths, trying to remind the woman to breathe. It worked, briefly. Cece huffed out harshly, before going immediately into another moan and Maggie felt the woman’s body tense - signaling her body pushing down on its own. 

Maggie opened her mouth to urge Cecelia to relax, but before she could speak, her fingers came into contact with a fleshy bulge. 

“Cece, dear - listen to me, how long have you been in labor?”

After several long seconds as the pain passed, she finally opened her eyes and quietly uttered, “about a day.”

“Gods, you’ve got to be kidding!” Quinn uttered, shaking his head slightly. Maggie gave him a soft look before pulling her hand free of Cecelia and dropping her gown back over her thighs.

“You are ready to start pushing, where do you want to deliver?” Maggie continued, not skipping a beat after his outburst. She had to get things moving so Cecelia could be as comfortable as possible, her body was ready to finish this quickly. 

Face now covered in sweat, the woman in labor grunted and shifted slightly to begin to stand, “The bed,” she muttered quietly. Instantly, Quinn was on his feet and sliding an arm around her waist, while Maggie grabbed a fistful of her gear and followed the other two to the woman's bed. Quinn placed her on the edge of the bed gently, taking his position next to her again without question. 

Cecelia groaned and sat back on the bed, her thighs spreading apart on their own as she began to push with the pain, urging her first deeper into her birth canal. 

“Good, just remember to breathe.” Maggie urged, tugging the woman's dress up and over her massive belly. It heaved with every breath Cece made, tensing as she pushed down instinctively. Next to them Quinn sputtered but thankfully said nothing. “Keep going, Cece, just like that.” 

“Ta-take this off…me.” Cecelia whined, tugging at her dress with her free hand. “Now!” 

Obliging, the midwife did as requested, letting Cece sit on the edge of the bed fully nude in her laboring form. Quinn, who was still quiet, turned bright red, but never left her side. It was admirable, Maggie thought to herself. 

“Oh, Gods! This is awful,” Cece continued groaning, her body pushing ever so slightly as the pain subsided then immediately returned. She cried out in slight shock and pushed down hard, her thighs spreading wide apart in an effort to give the emerging babe enough room. The instinct made her legs tremble, her body moving as if on its own accord. After a second, her free hand wrapped around the back of one of her thighs to pull it closer to her chest, screaming out in effort, “AHH!” 

“Good! Push, push,” the midwife continued to coo softly to Cece, smiling slightly as she watched the woman's dark pussy bulge even more outward. The head lodged itself between the woman's lips and Cece began to tremble, before she released the push, the head receding just a bit as she relaxed slightly. “That was so good, mama, another one of those and this baby will be crowning. You ready?” 

Cecelia gave Maggie a fierce glare, before gripping Quinn’s hand tightly, her face scrunching up as she bore down hard with her pain. Maggie's hand shot up to the woman's bulging lips, the head shooting out to almost a full crown. Slightly in awe at Cecelia’s determination and strength, Maggie didn't really notice the gush of fluid that leaked out around the baby's head. However, Quinn did not, his eyes lingering on what he was witnessing then trailing up Maggie’s arm, watching her as she assisted Cecelia in her delivery. His mouth dropped open slightly as he remained focused on the midwife between Cece’s legs on the floor. 

Her fingers spread around her charge’s stretched hole, applying a bit of pressure as the woman continued to push, oblivious to her husband's brother and his wandering amazement. 

After a few more pushes from Cecelia and no longer able to ignore his staring, Maggie's eyes flicked up to his, watching as he licked his lips looking at her. Her heart pounded in her chest and she was lost for a moment before she felt Cece push again, sobbing as she did so, the head stretching her straining and swollen folds as far as they could go. A cry of pained relief soon escaped the woman as the head lurched into Maggie's waiting hands, a very large puddle of fluid gushed over her fingers and onto the wooden floor. 

“Good, good job.” She uttered quietly, trying to ignore what she was suddenly thinking of while she was working. A bolt of shame hit her and she cleared her throat as if to clear her mind, “almost there, honey. I know you can do it.” 

Quinn seemed to catch on to what was happening and also returned to Cecelia’s side, his eyes now cast away from both women now. “You're close, it's almost over.” 

Nodding weakly, Cecelia pulled one thigh up and apart, and with the next pain pushed. She released a loud groan, pushing hard as the baby turned the remainder of the way and lurched into Maggie's arms, the baby instantly releasing a loud cry. Fluid dribbled out of the woman's swollen folds, but it went unnoticed by the women as Maggie smiled broadly and cried out, “you did it!” 

She quickly brought the child up to Cecelia’s chest, who just as swiftly wrapped herself around the crying infant, her own tears falling down her face. “The other one…” Cece trailed off with a sharp look of panic across her face. 

“Hey!” Maggie napped, watching the laboring woman begin to slip, “hey, Cece, you did it once, you can do it again. And it was so fast, it'll be alright.” 

The midwife had enough experience to say that was true enough most of the time. However, this was not like the others. Cecelia’s labor with the second continued for another hour. They trio worked and shifted every which way to spur on the second baby's arrival but it was trailing on. Cece had shifted to her hands and knees on the bed, rocking her hips as she moaned through her contractions. Now they were a never ending stream of tightness and pain, her body trembling even as Quinn tried to support her weight on his larger frame. Behind her, Maggie watched as the woman pushed, her opening bulging outward but never showing the head of the second twin. The first little one resting comfortable in a hand made crib near the bed, unbothered by its mother's plight. 

“I'm going to check where the babe sits, alright Cece?” Maggie asked, her hands on the woman's hips as she saw her release another push. Cecelia nodded weakly. 

Once again, she was close and the babe sat in her birth canal - that much Maggie could feel as soon as she pushed two fingers in. Her fingers bumped the wet head almost immediately but the progress was not happening as swiftly as the first. 

From his spot on the bed, helping rub Cecelia’s shoulders when she paused between pushes, Quinn gave Maggie a worried glance, his eyes lingering over where her hand disappeared before looking away. She was still staring at him when his grey eyes came back to her, this time giving her a sheepish smile. 

The midwife adjusted herself on the bed, his eyes getting harder to ignore the longer this went on and her body was alight at the attention. However, at this time, she had a job to do. Unable to really think of anything else, she met his gaze and mouthed the words, ‘focus now, talk later.’ Even as her body felt a thrum of excitement under his intense attention, she needed to focus as well. 

To his credit, Quinn nodded and continued his ministrations on Cecelia’s shoulders, which made Maggie look away and back at the weeping womanhood, a tiny sliver of the second baby's head now starting to spread the woman apart.

“It's too - nuhg - big!” Cecelia screamed as she finished her hard push. “Too big!” 

“I know, mama, this one is certainly bigger,” Maggie reassured her, her hand offering counter pressure around the pulsing heat between Cecelia’s legs. Her poor pussy was pink now, the taunt flesh pulled almost too tight around the crowning head, and Maggie knew it was taxing on the woman. “Keep pushing, I know you can do it.”

Crying, Cecelia obliged, her entire body shaking. She released a long moan and pushed down, her fingers digging into Quinn’s arms. “I-I…it's coming out!

“Yes, good girl! Push, push!” The midwife cheered on with a soft smile as she watched Cecelia’s pussy bulge even more outward, fully distended from her core. The head sat there for several long seconds, even after she released her push. That prompted her to cry out, even whimpering as she tried to immediately try to force the rest of the head from her. Maggie pressed her fingers around the head, Cecelia’s bulging folds pulsed under her hands, and she swore she could feel the woman’s flesh strain to its maximum. “Breathe, breathe, then push again.”

There was no indication that the woman heard her, but next to her Quinn rubbed her shoulders, coaxing her on with the promise it was almost over. Weeping overwhelmed tears, Cecelia sobbed and tried to take several deep breaths as instructed before gathering her strength to push once again. 

As if her resolve returned, Cecelia bore down hard, her hips jutting upward slightly at just the right angle to push against Maggie’s hand. It applied just enough pressure, along with Cece’s harsh push, the second baby erupted from her vagina, the body falling into Maggie’s waiting hands. 

Unable to contain her surprise, Maggie let out a chuckle and brought the babe up, rubbing its back firmly to urge it to cry. Which it did a split second later, the baby’s cry prompting the twin nearby to start sobbing. On the bed, shaking still from the effort, Cecelia laughed as well, rolling over onto her pillows and half leaning on Quinn. 

As the new uncle, Quinn looked over the moon, his eyes misted while looking at the newborn - watching as Maggie passed the newborn off to his sister-by-marriage. “They both sound so healthy,” he commented, sniffing slightly and looking at the filthy infant she held, “gods be good, you did amazing Cece.”

[marvelstars]

I don´t know if this is an unpopular oppnion, I just have not seen this take often outside of fics but I honestly believe Anakin would not have fallen to the darkside if he stayed on Tatooine.

If he stayed with his mother he would not have been exposed to Palpatine in exchange of getting political good points, he would have been adopted by Cliegg Lars after he married Shmi, became Owen´s brother and Beru brother in law, he could have keep Shmi safe from the Tusken Raiders without resorting to violence because even as a child he had a more nuanced understanding of them enough to talk with them with Threepio´s help, in fact it was precisely this fact the thing that broke him when he found out about them kidnapping his mother, he thought they were simply misunderstood and his mind could not deal with this image and in his childhood they were vs his mother being slowly tortured to death in the space of 1 month, he would not have developed his Jedi skills but would have learned to use his force powers in an intuitive manner, just like Luke did in the OT.

While this happens, Palpatine probably would have taken over the galaxy with the Empire, be it because the invasion of Naboo got extended because Anakin wasn´t there to destroy the main control starship of the droid army or Anakin stayed enough to help Padme on Naboo and then came back to Tatooine to stay with his mother.

In this case, ten years later the clone wars would have started and the Jedi Order has the same trouble dealing with war without the training to do so which later would lead to them still be surrounded by an slaved clone army who would open fire the moment it was convenient. Palpatine didnt have an interest in another Jedi besides Anakin so this would lead to him taking on Count Dooku as his official apprentice.

Meanwhile Anakin at this point would have managed to fight off the Hutts over Tatooine and would just enter in conflict with the begginings of the Empire, just this time he would not have any kind of relationship to the Emperor and would just see them as slavers under another name given the chips used in the clone army and either obi-Wan or another Jedi survivor could have teached him about his force powers without having to sacrifice his mother relationship to him or being isolated from the Jedi order for most of his youth.

I also see Padme and Anakin falling in love here as well, I don´t see either of them staying away from fighting Palpatine´s Empire but this time their relationship would not have the added stress of being hidden or forbidden, Luke and Leia could have been born earlier this time.

I have only seen a few fics that tackle this scenario and most of them are about time travel in which an older Vader version of Anakin takes over young Anakin or personally gets to the past to raise himself as a father figure and fight the Emperor from the beggining of TPM but I believe this perfectly would have happened in canon if Anakin had stayed on Tatooine.

[sanjisboyfie]

๑ keep safe : his hand on his ankle (12)

one piece x male reader

i think we're like fire and water. 

i think we're like the wind and sea.

you're burnin' up

and i'm coolin' down 

『 prev 』

“oi, pervy cook, stop harassing women!” [name] shouted from across the market stalls, “look this guy has a good deal, give me the bag of beri nami gave you!!”

sanji’s eyebrow quirked up in annoyance, new angry tick marks spawning all over his forehead as well. due to [name]’s shouts, the two beautiful women in front of him ran off.

he didn’t pick up on the fact they just ran away from sanji as a person, not because of [name].

grumbling under his breath about skewering [name] alive, he walked over to the stall and looked at their selection of ingredients. pretty quickly, sanji got over his anger and began bargaining with the sales rep.

[name] looked around as sanji took care of collecting all the ingredients, sighing as he felt himself grow immensely hot at the island’s weather. he had already stripped off his shirt, now donning a pair of knee length shorts while his torso was exposed.

he should get some more breathable clothing soon because the looks the townspeople were giving him were obviously laced with disapproval.

“i really can’t take you anywhere, your manners are nonexistent,” sanji said, backtracking to how [name] yelled earlier.

“they weren’t gonna get with you anyway,” [name] teased, throwing an arm around sanji’s shoulder. sanji easily shrugged the heavy limb off, scowling as [name] got too up close and personal.

the two continued on shopping and as soon as things began piling up, [name] looked around in wonder, “where’s chopper?” he asked, mentally hoping that the chef kept an eye on their newest crewmate.

“ah, i thought he was with you?” sanji said mindlessly, browsing through more selections of clothing for nami and vivi.

“hm, he probably is fine- hey! sanji, don’t buy those clothes, that’s not appropriate attire for the desert, idiot,” [name] said, slapping sanji in the head to rid him of his sudden heart eyes.

the blonde was looking at a beautiful piece of clothing that was definitely not actually made for the desert heat. “get them something more…not flashy,”

“flashy is the best!” sanji cried out, making [name] slap him on the head once more.

“idiot!”

[name] took care of buying actual clothing for the women, and the men — since sanji definitely wouldn’t care about them enough to spend beri on them, and made sure he snagged the whole bag of beri away from sanji. he didn’t need the chef wasting any more money on useless things.

after what felt like hours of shopping, the two rejoined with their group that was in hiding.

“huh? where’s chopper?” nami asked, noticing their missing reindeer.

“well, we don’t know, but!!! before you hit me, he’ll be able to find us with that strong nose of his, if anything we just lost him in the crowd,” [name] said, not really putting nami at ease, but it did stop her from hitting him on the head.

sanji quickly threw food at zoro and usopp, who jumped at it to ravenously eat it since they were starving. then he politely handed the share to vivi and nami. lastly, he didn’t even think twice in throwing a skewer at [name] — who easily swallowed it in one second.

“at least savor it, [name],” vivi said, worried as she saw [name] spit out the wooden stick that went through the meat skewer without a care in the world.

“i did savor it, your country’s food is yummy, vivi,” [name] approved, a thumbs up given to the princess who could only hum in delight.

“and, nami-san and vivi-chan, please put on the gowns i bought you!” sanji said, once again love struck as he spun his way over to nami and vivi. at that cue, [name] rummaged through their newly bought goods and brought the actual clothes out.

he laid them out to zoro and usopp first, the two nodding quickly in thanks before going back to devouring their share of meat. and then he walked over to nami and vivi, giving them an apologetic smile.

“here's some more clothes if you want to change into this instead,” vivi didn’t seem to hesitate in grabbing the cloths. she saved him a thankful look, patting him on the head as well. nami kept sanji’s choice of clothing, telling [name] to put the other robes into the bag for safe keeping in case.

everyone changed into their new outfits, [name] gagging as he felt it become even more suffocating with the layers he put on. the moment he emerged from behind the wall where he was changing, they all stopped and stared at him.

“does it really look that bad? because i feel like shit right now,” he said, not thinking much of their stares.

and there was nothing to make of it anyway as they all erupted with their own comments.

“yeah, you fit the part of a bandit,” sanji insulted, taking a drag of his cigarette.

”don’t have such a pathetic look on your face, [name], it makes you seriously look miserable,” nami advised, sweatdropping as [name] dropped in front of them in exhaustion from the heat.

“you’re gonna eat shit in the desert, aren’t you?! haha!!” zoro laughed at [name]’s personal hell.

“come on, [name], get serious! you need to be in tip-top shape in order to protect us, this isn’t a joke!!!” usopp cried, shaking [name] back and forth by his collar.

meanwhile, [name] was slumped over right next to chopper as they were both suffering immensely from the heat.

“[name], are you going to be alright? you look really, really…” vivi trailed off, seeing the sweat that was practically soaking into [name]’s headpiece. “hot.”

“i’m terrible with hot weather! first we go to drum island, as fucking cold as it was, then we end up in the middle of the desert! i might as well jump into a boiling tub of hot water!” [name] shouted, kicking into the sand in frustration, “i can’t deal with this!”

“you’re awfully affected by the weather, just make sure you pack some water,” nami huffed, shrugging her shoulders, “or take off a couple of layers.”

[name] easily did as told, eager to get the suffocating clothes off of his person. he kept the headpiece on, tying the arms of the robe around his waist to leave his torso bare. he threw the sword over his person to rest on his back, breathing a sigh of relief.

with his muscular back and torso exposed, nami eyed him in interest. something had caught her eye on [name]’s back and she stopped him from moving around when she finally made out what it was.

”you have a tattoo, [name]?”

[name] turned around to look at his back, grinning when he saw the ink that permanently was etched into his skin.

“yeah, you like?”

it was a big tattoo, honestly. the crew was surprised they’d never seen it before. a pair of wings were running the expanse of [name]’s wide shoulders, going on until the ending tips of the wings were a little bit exposed to his deltoids.

“what’s it mean?” nami asked, gently trailing a finger over [name]’s inked skin, flinching back when she felt that the skin was slightly raised as well, “wait…what’s this?”

her hand flattened against [name]’s back, making sanji seethe where he stood, to get a better feel. [name] sighed in content feeling her cool palm cool him down, but then perked up at her actual question.

“what?”

“it’s like, you’ve got a map…of scars,” she breathed out, eyes widening in realization. just as she said, there were linear scars that were trailing over [name]’s back. she looked down and realized that they continued on until his hip, which was as far as her eye could see.

she abruptly turned him around, shock gracing her features as she saw that [name] was thoroughly scarred all over. the lines of his raised marks were very, very thin, and small. very precise work, it looked like.

but no doubt, it was there.

“how have we never seen?”

“well, they’re small, so it only really noticeable when you’re up close,”

in intrigue, usopp leaned in closer and was shocked to see that there really were marks all over [name]’s torso, “woah, they kind of look badass, how far do they go?”

“from my face, all the way down to my feet,” [name] said, shooting a look to chopper, as if a warning to not say anything. the reindeer dropped his head and obediently stayed quiet.

before nami could ask any more questions regarding the scarring, vivi abruptly asked about the tattoo on his back.

“so what is the significance of the tattoo?” she asked, feeling a sense of pressure put on [name] to explain the scarring that even made her uncomfortable. the marks themselves weren’t making her uncomfortable, but rather the incessant questions that [name] may not have wanted to answer.

nami and usopp probably didn’t mean for it to come off as invasive, but either way that was what it felt like, to vivi at least.

“to make me fly!” [name] childishly grinned. his smile was purely innocent, as if he truly believed he could. it was a smile that could easily mirror that of their captain. he looked so carefree as he referenced the large tattoo. and it was easy to miss the longing look in his eyes as he smiled, but a certain few picked up on it.

vivi smiled sadly at [name], sensing there was a deeper meaning to it than just that, but she left it alone. as did everyone else on the crew.

“sounds stupid, humans can’t fly idiot,” everyone besides zoro, as he was always eager to rile up [name]. and it worked as he knocked the swordsman on the head.

“but are you sure you want to walk around like that, [name]? the sun might get to you even more with your skin exposed,” vivi said worriedly, but [name] shot them down instantly.

“i’ll be fine,” [name] said, waving off the worries. “if anything, i’ll put the clothes back on if its really getting too much,”

“put them back on now, no one wants to see it,” sanji and zoro said in a monotonous voice, making another fight between the three of them break out. nami and usopp could only sigh at their antics, chopper watched on in admiration, and vivi couldn’t help but feel secure.

she had such strong people on her side.

well, she still had to ask them to assist her…she swallowed the lump in her throat, looking up with a fierce glint in her eyes.

“everyone, please, i want to save this country. and the journey is going to be treacherous, especially across the desert, there’s no saying what will happen. but, please!! if you could lend me your help, please!”

it was silent for a couple of seconds. nami was the one to break it with her mischievous giggle, “you finally said it! we were waiting for you, of course we’ll help you!”

[name] grinned along with her, throwing an arm around vivi’s shoulder, “you remember my promise, don’t you?” he asked, mindlessly leaning into her. she felt flustered at the close contact with the half naked [name] that her ears and cheeks started burning almost instantly.

sanji took care of her “problem” by kicking [name] down on the head. and with his foot still resting on top of [name]’s head, he grinned at vivi, trying to look charming, “of course, we will help you, vivi-chan! anything to help you my beautiful princess.”

“pervy cook,” [name] said in a strained voice in unison with zoro’s bored one.

“we gotta go through yuba first, right?” usopp checked, earning a hum of confirmation from [name] and nami.

chopper, despite feeling the heat most sensitively, was more than excited to see the vast desert.

everyone raised their marked arms into the air, ready to set themselves out for adventure. but then they all faltered as they realized they were missing someone…their captain.

“where the fuck is that idiot?!”

the only resolution they had to their missing captain issue was searching in the nearest town.

“i’m gonna go check the restaurant,” [name] said, his head held down. just as he was about to walk off, nami grabbed ahold of his ear.

“only to look for luffy!!! do not, i repeat do not!!!, go in there to eat for your own appetite. we have a whole country to save, [name]! don’t even think about getting distracted now!”

“i won’t, now let me go!” [name] whined, running in his spot as nami had a hold on his ear. when she finally let go, he mimicked a rocket taking off with how fast he made a beeline to the restaurant up ahead.

‘coffee!! meat!!! sorry, nami!!!’ he thought in his head as he ran into the restaurant. not waiting a second, he took a seat at the bar’s counter and got ready to be served.

“cup of coffee and three plates of meat, please!” [name] said, grinning from ear to ear at eating a proper meal. he had only eaten that one skewer sanji had secured for him, that piss blonde didn’t pity [name]’s endless stomach one bit!

“[name], we gotta stop meeting like this, it’s feeling a little bizarre,” a voice said from next to him.

[name] turned his head to the side, tears coming into his eyes as he recognized that grin from anywhere, “ace!!!”

he jumped out of his seat, completely tackling ace out from his seat. this landed them both on the floor. he peppered kisses all over ace’s face, whose cheeks dusted pink very quickly at the action, “my ace!!!”

“alright, alright, i get it,” ace said, holding onto [name]’s shoulders to push him back a little from his suffocating attitude. “i missed you too,”

[name] broke free from ace’s grip on his shoulder, leaning back down to press his forehead against ace’s, nudging the freckled nose with his own. even if he was already burning up from the climate outside, he couldn’t help but press himself further into ace’s warm chest.

“we saw each other a couple months ago, [name], get ahold of yourself!” ace said, tired of fighting against [name]’s need to be pressed against him. [name] was stubborn and didn’t let up his pushing at all.

“come on, ace, i never knew when i’d see you again!” [name] said, nuzzling into ace’s neck, a devious grin on his face, “i can be selfish on the affections,”

“i think you were plenty selfish last time we saw each other,” ace mumbled with red dusting his face.

the two got up, or rather, ace sat up and since [name] had all of his limbs wrapped around ace, he too came up with him. ace sat back down on the barstool, [name] sitting on his lap.

it was definitely a sight to see for everyone in the restaurant. [name] wasn’t some small guy, he was tall and imposing with his strong build. to see him so childishly (trying to) fit himself onto ace’s lap, who was significantly smaller than him, made the customers blink a couple of times to make sure they were seeing right.

”i can’t eat with you on me like this!”

“hm, i’ll just feed you,”

ace looked at him in annoyance, “that’s not my point, idiot,”

rolling his eyes, [name] propped himself up on the bar counter, off the side of ace so that the man could eat his food perfectly fine. [name] kept his legs resting in between ace’s, squeezing every now and then around ace’s thigh to keep the skinship.

“you’re oddly clingy,” ace grumbled, not flinching backwards when [name] pressed their faces close to one another again, “you act too young, man up a little,”

“i think we both know you wouldn’t prefer the cold shoulder, though,” [name] smirked, referencing the last time the duo had seen each other, “weren’t you the one who almost started crying when-”

ace shoved a spoonful of rice into [name]’s mouth, “shut up.”

[name] happily ate the food and grinned in utmost pleasure, “say, ace, join luffy’s crew!”

“no.”

“you always were so heartless,” [name] sighed.

“i think it’s obvious why i can’t join,” ace said, scarfing down more food. one of his hands wrapped around [name]’s ankle, the one that wasn’t in between his legs, and he squeezed it gently.

[name] looked up at the action, ace’s firm and warm grip around his foot knocking him out of his daydream. he was greeted by a smirk from the freckled man, “why don’t you join the whitebeard pirates? they’re more in your league anyway,”

“nope,” [name] grinned, putting his fingers in front of his face to form an ‘x’ shape.

“see, that’s what i thought,” ace said, rubbing his thumb up and down [name]’s ankle as he spoke. neither of them paid the action no mind. ace did it to reassure himself [name] was really in front of him and [name] always welcomed skinship with ace, so he definitely didn’t mind.

“well-”

then ace’s grip on his ankle became loose and a loud slamming onto the table made everyone in the restaurant look their way.

“he died mid-chew!?” they cried out, looking at the ravenette who collapsed.

[name] sighed, taking ace’s hat off and placing it on his own head. he buried his hand in ace’s hair, happily taking more food off of his plate and eating to his heart’s content.

“he doesn’t even care!!!”

“eh? he’s not dead,” [name] simply said, looking at the crowd as if they were crazy, “how’d you guys come up with that conclusion?”

“he obviously looks dead, don’t play dumb!” the crowd shouted in unison once more.

suddenly, ace shot up again, looking dazed. wordlessly, he snatched his plate back up from [name] and continued eating.

“he didn’t die?!”

“i told you he didn’t!”

“ah, [name], my hat looks good on you,” ace said cheerfully, a stunning smile on his face.

“ew, ace, you’ve got food in your mouth still,” [name] grimaced, “also around your entire face, hold on,”

[name] grabbed a stray napkin and wiped ace’s face clean, the man presenting himself prettily to [name]. that made him laugh, gently tap his cheek at his obvious posing, and ruffle his hair.

“all clean.”

“you’re so reliable [name], that’s why you should join old man’s crew,” ace said, once again slipping an invitation into the conversation.

“nope!”

ace’s warm hand went back to resting on [name]’s ankle, continuing to finish plate after plate.

”you two are bold to be eating out in the open like that,” a voice said behind ace, making [name] look up in interest.

he saw a man with two thick cigars resting on the corner of his mouth, eye twitching at the sight. the man continued on, “second division commander of the whitebeard pirates, portgas d. ace.” his eyes then trailed onto [name], looking even more angered, “and you, cursed orphan [name]. are you aware that your bounty had shot up?”

[name] sweatdropped, “but i didn’t even do anything,” he said in exasperation, nudging ace, “these guys hate me for no reason, i swear,” this made the freckled man burst out laughing.

“you’re a wanted man, a bounty of 250,000,000 million,” the man announced, making [name] pout, “that’s not even much higher,” and that was enough to send the entire place into an uproar.

“whitebeard pirates?! over 200 million bounty?!” they all shouted in fear and realization. these two men that were casually cuddling up with each other in the middle of the restaurant were fearless, deadly, and intimidating pirates.

“what are you two low lives doing in this country in the first place?”

as ace turned around, [name] leaned his entire body against ace’s, resting his chin on his shoulder. the two grinned devilishly, and the occupants in the restaurant genuinely did fear for their lives. the two answered easily, “i’m looking for my little brother / i’m here to kick some warlord’s ass,”

the marine, [name] assumed, flinched at their confessions, averting his eyes to [name], “you, what did you just say?”

[name] grinned proudly, twirling the ends of ace’s hair with his finger, “i’m gonna beat up some asshole,” he grinned, enjoying the confused look on the marine’s face and laughing in delight.

tension in the room seemed to only fill, almost at its brim.

“so? what do you want from me?” ace asked, biting back laughter as he felt [name] attach to his back as if he were a backpack. if [name] wasn’t sitting on the bar counter, ace would have had to uphold all the weight of him on his back. his legs were wrapped around his torso and his arms were lazily thrown over ace’s front.

[name]’s chin was resting on ace’s head, the orange hat still on top of his h/c hair.

the two looked so casual and comfortable, not to mention smug, for smoker’s liking.

“to capture the both of you quietly,”

“nope, i think i’ll pass. how about you, [name]?”

“i just said i have important business, marine man, i got places to be so no can do!”

“well, i figured,” he sighed, a puff of smoke trailing out of his mouth, “i’m busy trying to find another pirate at the moment. to be honest i have no interest in taking either of you in,”

[name] gave a thumbs up, “great, so leave us alone!”

”can’t,” the marine said in a strained voice, “so long as you’re a pirate and i’m a marine, i can’t let either of you out of my sights,” smoke began to erupt at a much faster pace, this time coming from his fist and [name] already knew that the man in front of him had some sort of devil fruit power.

“that sounded too much like a confession,” [name] hummed in disinterest, leaning into ace’s back even further.

“that’s a pretty bland reason,” ace said, hands turning into clenched fists, “don’t go threatening us, either. you should know - i like showing off in front of [name], so i won’t go easy on you,” ace leaned back a little, raising an eyebrow as he felt nothing but completely relaxed, “so let’s have some fun!”

[name] squinted, seeing past smoker and sensing something very, very, very rapidly approaching. unfortunately, his innate abilities weren’t even fast enough to dodge, so he only took a tight hold on ace, acting as the man’s human shield and braced for impact.

in a second, the front door of the restaurant welcomed a crashing figure — who was shouting about food. ace and smoker were knocked off of their feet, [name] as ace’s backpack, as the mystery person crashed into both of them.

[name] felt several walls break down behind him from the impact, making him grit his teeth in annoyance. he’d kill luffy for sure! moving the rubble surrounding them aside, [name] sat upright with a frown on his face.

“you alright, ace?”

“yeah, just pissed off, who the hell is causing all that trouble?”

”i think we both know the answer…” [name]’s voice trailed off as he stood up and began walking through the many holes his captain caused inside people’s homes and establishments.

as he walked ahead, he could only think of so many ways to make luffy understand he was dead meat.

as [name] and ace came to the restaurant, ace’s eyes widening as he realized who it was, they were about to rush forward, but were slapped down to the ground by the marine that was pestering them earlier.

“you’re fucking with me right now,” [name] cursed into the bricks he got a face full of, feeling nothing but annoyance seep into his bones. “i’ll kill the both of you bastards!”

“straw hat!!!” the marine called out, rushing forward and chasing luffy out of the restaurant.

in a second, luffy was running out of the place, followed by smoker, who was then followed by [name] and ace.

“wait, luffy! it’s me!!! wait up, luffy!!!” ace desperately shouted, running after luffy’s fast figure.

”luffy, come back here so i can kill your dumbass! i’ll send you flying!”

the chase happened for much longer than it needed, but eventually [name] caught up to his captain. and the first thing he did was sucker punch him. ace disconnected from him to stop smoker, who was very close to actually catching luffy.

when luffy finally got up from being punched, he looked up at the scene in wonder.

“ace?!”

“that’s what we’ve been trying to tell you, idiot, idiot, idiot!!” [name] said, knocking some more sense into his captain, “we’ve been running after you like mad men, don’t you have ears to listen!?”

“[name], i was running from that guy there, give me a break!” luffy whined, holding onto his head in fear of getting hit once more.

“luffy, you really never change, do you?” ace asked, smirking at the sight of his little brother and the crew he acquired.

“ace, did you eat a devil fruit?! you have powers now?!” luffy asked in astonishment.

“yep, the mera-mera no mi,” ace easily answered, the smirk on his face not going away for even a second as he stared at the marines ahead, “anyways, we can’t chat like this! i’ll catch up! you guys run!”

that was enough for [name], as he still wanted to knock some sense into luffy, who dragged their captain by his ear and ran off.

”aren’t you a bit too ready to run away from a fight?!” usopp shouted, never seeing [name] so eager to get away.

“come on, don’t fall behind now!!” [name] shouted, smirking at the still crew, “ace’s got it all handled, let’s run now!!!”

“is he an acquaintance of yours, luffy?! [name]?!”

luffy laughed happily, looking back at his crew with that notoriously troublesome smile, “yeah!! he’s my brother!”

the crew would’ve stopped running in shock, but seeing as the marines were hot on their tail they had no other option but to continue rushing forward. the looks on their faces said it all though.

they thought that learning [name] and luffy grew up on the same island was shocking, it still was, honestly but just now finding out luffy had a brother? and the fact luffy and [name] were so casual on the fact, made their faces freeze in shock.

what else was their captain hiding?

[ miniature : BONUS ]

“why are you protecting those two, fire fist?” smoker snarled, watching as the entire strawhat crew got away from him.

“it’s normal for an older brother to worry about his bungling little brother,” ace smirked, the heat that was dancing on his skin becoming flames.

”your brother-? then you mean to say…” smoker’s voice trailed off, but before he could delve too deep into the new information, he demanded ace move once more.

“i’m afraid that’s a no can do,” ace said, the flames growing stronger with each passing second, “i did warn you though, i said i like to show off in front of [name]. so you understand where i’m coming from even more, right?”

“hardly,” smoker grunted, still not understanding how ace was related to both [name] and luffy.

“come on, you wouldn’t wanna put in some extra effort in impressing your lover?”

『 prev 』 ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🌊 ꒱ 『 next 』

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taglist (lmk if u want to be tagged ! <3 :

@skullr0se , @strawberrii-tea

[tempo-tales]

"Ready, Young Yejun, now it's your turn to do your duty."

Already in the workshop on the main floor, Dominic prepares the tools and materials for the procedure. But first, the old man looks at Tempo and Yejun, as if a challenge he wants to take.

"Ready, Young Yejun, now it's your turn to do your duty."

"What?!"- They both exclaim with a loud shout.

"Why not? The young man is a watchmaker too, and I see a lot of determination and passion in his eyes. "the confident old man expresses excitedly.

"... After being humiliated, trusting Yejun is complicated for me."

Yejun looks into the lady's eyes, and she, sees the amateur man's eyes of regret and also, determination. He wants to win Tempo's trust for the trouble he caused and also, he is in giving his all in showing his skills in front of the lady rabbit and famous watchmaker, who marked an important role in the culture of the 21st century.

Tempo lets out a sigh. Yejun won. The maestro looks at Dominic and the old man, receiving the answer, hands the watch to the young man, covering his hands with his own.

"Show who you are, in front of this young lady."-Encourages the gentleman craftsman with a gentle pat on the back.

"Yes," Yejun nods.

The man sits down and puts on tight gloves. He proceeds with the external cleaning of the watch with special liquid, cloths and brushes. Once clean, he separates the cover with the watch, to clean the inside.

Next, Yejun checks the watch. First of all, he thinks it is in good condition, but he performs an external examination by delicately touching the hands, the surface and listens to the gears.

"Miss, according to my point of view, the watch itself is in good condition. I don't think I need to open it. Besides...I know it's very delicate to over touch it if you yourself don't know its details and consequences when handling it."

"That's fine."

"Okay, I'll check the cover."

Yejun checks the crack along with the heart-shaped jewel. To ensure his diagnosis, he made three detailed checks so as not to miss a clue, using his pocket monocular.

"The jewel is in perfect condition. I don't see anything abnormal both inside and outside. What I do, is that the cuts that exposes a great depth of the hidden jewel. And inside, I see a lot of sparkles. If you like, I give you my monocular."-Yejun hands the object to Tempo. She politely receives it, for she has the ability to control her field of vision.

The maestro picks up the cover and checks the scratches. And inside, she sees many images in small light bulbs, all of them are Alicia's memories that are embedded in the heart jewel. This gave her the hypothesis that the Crown ( Memories) was attached to her Heart, the jewel, deep inside. And the pressure exerted by the Heart, the memories needed to be released little by little, especially when Tempo's Body, Soul and Aura reacts to a stimulus. That is the origin of Tempo's instability! She finally found a link to her problem, even if it is only a theory and she didn't realize it for many years. The rabbit maestro tells her hypothesis to the two watchmakers, and they, surprised, could only listen as the maestro changed her mood.

"I can't believe that during my more than 6000 years as a maestro I didn't notice this detail!"-says the lady, taking steps and many turns to understand the problem. The watchmakers looked at each other, as the revelation also gave them much surprise, understanding that the appearance of the watch is due to the essence of Alicia's being inside it.

"Boy, finally this confusing issue of the watch was cleared up. And tell me, what is the solution to this problem?"

"..." A silence abounded in the place. Yejun did not have good news, but everyone present wanted to know.

"Miss Alicia, my conclusion from this analysis is the following: in my point of view, if the watch is disassembled, everything inside it will be expelled and I can't tell you what the consequences will be, but I don't think it needs to be fixed more than the cover, since I don't hear anything abnormal and in touch, everything feels in good condition. As for the cracks, I will fill them for the damage and it will be as good as new, at least from the outside. But, if you suffer from that problem of your memories, unfortunately that will not stop because that is already a factor outside the watch."- Yejun explains, little regretful of not being able to help the poor lady more. With a gentle pat on Yejun's shoulder, Tempo thanks him for much more, for being able to understand a little more about herself

"I can't demand more than the impossible. You have been a great help to me."-Tempo, hugs the man as a gesture of thanks. A tingles on the man's forehead.

[deuxcherise]

Collar Crimes: All Bark, No Bite (1/2)

C/w: Unhealthy behavior (?) | Yandere | Female OC | Gender Neutral Reader | Reader is a bit of a… gold digger here (pun intended lol) | Comfort (?) | Fluff (?) | Slight Angst (near the end)| Swearing | Includes a cute pic of a Golden Retriever x German Shepherd mix dog for reference

A/n: So a long time ago, before reader met Eris, reader met a certain dog~ Hint, hint: she was mentioned in the last chapter (can I call it a chapter? It was in part 2). It’s not the bartender, by the way. So this is going to be a two parter because it got too long. Huh… Is it just me or are these getting longer and longer? Even the animal is getting bigger lol. Enjoy~

Masterlist | Part 2, Part 3 (1/2) (you’re here!), Part 3 (2/2)

[Seven years ago…]

“Hiiiii~ Welcome to Petal Blush Cafe, dear guest. We’re so happy-happy to see you~”

“Oh, what do we have here? I heard a lot of great things about you. Come give Papa a big ol’ smile, why don’t cha?”

You keep your ever present resting blank face on, place your index fingers together in front of your mouth and drag them apart in an upward curve. You throw in a tilt of your head, as a bonus.

The customer throws his head back in ecstasy. “AHHH! So it’s true what they say. I feel so refreshed! Papa’s got an appetite for some sandwiches… unless you’re on the menu today?”

“Oh my~ You flatter me~ But unfortunately, nooooo, sir~” you say with a high-pitched cutesy voice that heavily contrasts your stiff-robot face, fanning yourself for show.

You’ve always hated these kinds of customers– actually, you really hated this job in general. Not only were you forced to wear a ridiculously, scandalously short pink waitress dress uniform regardless of your gender, but you had to listen to yourself speak with an ear-gratingly high-pitched tone, because that’s what sells the performance here.

Have you tried to leave? Well, you’ve thought about it, but no. Where else would they pay you enough to make rent? Besides, with who runs this cafe and who owns the area, do you think you’d be able to leave scot-free? No.

You sigh internally. Ah… if only someone with a lot of money could just… sweep me off my feet. Someone kind… Someone considerate… Someone polite…

Pff. Yeah, right. Like that’s ever going to happen.

You take his usual order on your paper notepad. As you leave, you feel something heavy slap against your behind, the action sending a jolt through the rest of your body. You glance behind you and see the customer don a sleazy smirk, which further adds to your disgust and increasing resentment for this place. You pick up the pace to hand over the order to the chef. You slam the paper down onto the counter with a little more force than expected, warranting Remy’s attention.

“Which table?” he nonchalantly asks, cracking a couple of eggs onto the pan.

Somehow, despite wearing the same outfit as you, he maintains an extremely powerful look with his exposed bulging muscles and trimmed beard held by his hairnet. You envy the man.

“Table 13,” you grumble.

“Special sauce?”

“Special sauce.”

“Got it.”

The bell rings and in comes a trio of brothers in fancy suits, three of your most loyal customers, along with an unfamiliar face. Upon their request, the hostess leads them to a table in your section. You grab four menus before walking over and greeting them as usual.

“Hiiiii~ Welcome back to Petal Blush Cafe, dear guests,” you greet, face still with its blank expression. “We’re so happy-happy to see you~” you say, with your iconic blank face.

The three men roar with delight. The lady with them, wearing the same kind of suit, simply pinches and pulls at her sleeve as she keeps her face downcast. One of the brothers turns to the lady with them while pointing at you. “Hey, Sis. Whatcha think of (Y/n), huh? That straight face and cute voice. Combo’s real nice, ain’t it?”

“O-oh… um…” The woman makes eye contact with you for a split second before she looks away, a blush appearing on her face. She nods animatedly, releasing another roar from the men, much to your confused amusement.

“Oh right! (Y/n). You already know the three of us: Dante, Vergil and Nero. This,” Dante says, placing an arm around the lady’s shoulders, “is our baby sister, Lyn. She may look shy right now, but put a weapon in her hand and…” He whistles before chuckling.

“Ah. Happy-happy to have you, Lyn~” you say, cutely wiggling your fingers.

“... T-thank you… (Y/n).”

“Good girl,” one of the brothers sitting across pats her on the head. She reminds you of a golden retriever, with her blond hair and gentle, round eyes.

“Yay~ Now, what will it be today~?” you ask, clicking your pen.

They order some sandwiches and some drinks. You place the order in exchange for picking up the order for that sleazy customer who calls himself Papa. You and Remy exchange knowing looks before you deliver the food.

“Oooh. This looks delicious. Thank you very much, sweetheart.”

You nod and start walking away, before your arm is grabbed by a meaty hand. You turn your head around to see the man grinning at you maliciously. 

“Now, wait a gosh darn second. I heard that this establishment offers a… special service. Now… you aren’t holding off on me, are ya?”

You rip your arm out of his grasp, used to being grabbed by unscrupulous individuals like this man. You answer, “Oh~ The special service~ Sorry, hon~ That’s a privilege only reserved for customers who have dined here more than ten times~ Since you’ve come here once, that means you’ll have to come back nine more times.”

The special service in question refers to asking any server to sing the cafe’s jingle and perform a cutesy dance for the customer asking. Everyone who works here must learn this song and dance before they can be placed on the floor, adding their own twist to it, of course, thus providing a unique experience.

The man slams a fist on the table and stands up, his face red with anger. “WHAT? I CANCELLED A VERY IMPORTANT MEETING FOR THIS. NOW IF YOU DON’T GIVE ME THE SPECIAL SERVICE, I AM GOING TO–”

Click!

Both your heads turn to the side to discover Lyn pointing a loaded revolver with one hand just a feet away, aimed directly for the man’s skull. Her eyes are sharp and narrowed, unlike the gentle, round ones you were introduced to earlier.

She raises her eyebrows. “Is there a problem here, sir?” she asks, voice firm and steady.

“D-do… do you know who you’re pointing that gun at, lady?” the man stutters, sweating beading up on his forehead.

Lyn shrugs. “Does it matter?”

“O-of course it does! Shoot me and you’ll have the West Razors going after you and your entire family.”

She raises an eyebrow. “... Never heard of them before.”

“What? Who are you then, huh, bitch? Some don’s lady?”

She scoffs to the side. Her pupils contract, brown glinting with a shade of gold, as she cocks her head with a smirk. “Lyn Aurem-Diavolus. Of the May Devils.”

The man gasps and immediately lowers his knees, Lyn’s gun following. The man clasps his hands together in a prayer as he begs for his life. “I didn’t know! I didn’t know! P-please forgive me! I didn’t know this server was your lover!”

…Who? Is what now?

Lyn’s eyes soften back to their round shape, her face darkening to a red hue as she stutters, “L-l-lover?”

“That’s right!” Dante pipes up with a smirk, coming behind Lyn, followed by the other two brothers. “Mess with (Y/n) again, and we’ll send you straight down to hell, capisce?” He gives the man a thumbs down with a frown. “Now scram.”

The man quickly gets on this feet and skedaddles out of here, without leaving a tip no less. You click your tongue in annoyance, but you understand. You would be an idiot if you stuck around a pissed off May Devil.

Ah. But what if he spreads the word that I’m Lyn’s lover? … Ah, what the heck. The less perverts there are, the better.

Lyn replaces the safety lock before she puts it back into a hidden holster. She bashfully asks you, “Are you okay… (Y/n)?”

You nod and give a thumbs up. “Yeah. Thank you, Lyn~”

“N-no, well, I mean, yes, that too. But what I meant was–”

“Ooh, free sandwiches,” says Dante, eyeing the plate the guy left behind. “Don’t mind if I do~”

You throw a hand out. “No, wait!”

-----🔔-----

Ever since the brothers introduced you to Lyn, she has been visiting the cafe every day you’re scheduled to work for months now. Sometimes she comes with the brothers, sometimes by herself if they’re too busy dealing with… probably, mafia stuff. Not any of your business.

“Hiiiii~ Welcome to Petal Blush Cafe, dear guest. We’re so happy-happy to see you~”

“H-hi… (Y/n).”

At this point, there is no need to provide her with a menu anymore. She always orders a peanut butter milkshake and a plate of chocolate cake. Somehow, aside from the extreme sweet tooth she possesses, you always feel weird about giving her the chocolate cake. She’s definitely human, but… she really does remind you of a very shy golden retriever… with perhaps a German shepherd side to her. Or maybe like Maremmano-Abruzzese sheepdog, considering she’s Italian.

“Okay~ Here is your milkshake and your cake. Will there be anything else you’d like today, Lyn-Lyn~?”

You expect her to say no as per usual, but this time it seems she has something on her mind, based on the way her face has turns red and her eyes look like they’re panicking.

“O-oh! U-um… (Y/n)?”

“Yes, Lyn-Lyn?”

“Do you… what time do you get off work? D-do you have time after work?”

That catches you off guard. “Why~?”

“UH… UM… I… I-I have something… to tell you! Come meet me behind the cafe.”

“Oh… kay,” you answer. “Okay~”

-----🔔-----

[After work…]

“Alright. Good job, everyone! Have a safe trip going home!”

“Yeah!” “Thank you! “Yes!” “Uh-huh.” “See ya!”

The day has ended and all of the customers have left. Your boss leaves first, but you and your coworkers stick around in the locker room and begin making conversation as you change out of your work clothes.

“Oooh, you gonna go meet Lover Girl in the back, (Y/n)?”

You roll your eyes at a coworker’s words. “Ha ha. Real funny.”

“What does she wanna talk about anyway?”

You shrug, closing your locker. “Beats me.”

“Ooh, do you think she’s going to confess?”

You scoff. “No. Where’d you get that idea from?”

Your coworkers exchange looks before bursting into laughter.

Ever since that day when the don of the West Sharpies or whatever assumed you were Lyn’s lover, your coworkers have never let you live it down, especially with Lyn’s daily visits. She is… kind, considerate, polite, and you have to admit, she was pretty hot when she defended you back then.

However! You do not have such a relationship with her, nor any kind of feelings like that. You’re sure of it.

You’re the last one to leave, the only one to leave through the back door to meet with Lyn. You find her leaning against the wall, dressed in her suit as always.

The moment she spots you, she stands up straight and blushes again. She has never seen you in civilian clothes before, but you look so… beautiful. More so, without the cute yet obnoxious pink outfit.

“Sorry, did I keep you waiting?” you ask in your regular voice, out of character. Your face remains blank though.

“O-oh, not at all, not at all. Um, here.”

She manifests a flower bouquet from behind her back. You take the bouquet, entranced by the largeness of it and how beautiful the colorful flowers look under the alleyway’s only streetlight. When your eyes finally break away from the flowers, you find Lyn kneeling down on one knee and looking up at you with a very serious expression.

“Lyn?”

”(Y/n). Over these past few months,” she starts off, “I have been trying to figure out my feelings for you. I’ve thought about it over and over, tried to rationalize it as… as just infatuation, but… I know what’s in my heart. And I’ve finally come to a conclusion. Ever since I first met you, you have… captured my heart. I am in love with you, (Y/n).”

…..

You stare at her with wide eyes. “Huh?”

She clears her throat and starts glancing between you and the surroundings, embarrassed. “I-I know you may not feel the same. My brothers… and everyone else have told me already. And it’s not like I’ve really done anything so far to win your affection…” She mumbles something in between before continuing. “B-but if you give me the chance, I can show you what I’m capable of. As your potential girlfriend.”

“Oh… wow…”

She holds out a hand to you. “So will you… go out with me?”

“I…”

Do you want to try going out on a date with one of the May Devils? And the youngest one too? You don’t have any prior romantic feelings for the girl, which makes you feel bad. What if you never develop any feelings for her? What if she stops showing up to the cafe? What if you accidentally do something that triggers the entire famiglia to go after you?

In the midst of your thoughts, something dark emerges from deep inside you. A devil. It sits on your shoulder and whispers into your ear, “What if this is your chance to get out of here? She has money. You need money. It’s a match made in… well, ya know?”

…..

Your blank face breaks into a smile, an expression Lyn hasn’t seen before but is entranced by, as you place your hand onto hers.

“I would love to.”

-----🔔-----

[A month later…]

You hadn't expected to enjoy going out on dates with her, but you were sure glad that you said yes.

“(Y/n)! Look what I got for you!” Lyn excitedly says, holding a neatly wrapped box for you over your shoulder.

“Another one?” you chuckle, accepting the gift as she hugs you from behind and nuzzles the back of your neck. “Designer clothes. Designer bags. Luxuries cars. Lyn-Lyn, you're spoiling me too much. You're going to go bankrupt!”

She shakes her head, her hair tickles the back of your neck. “Mm mm mm mm. You're not being spoiled, you're being pampered! By me. Your loving, romantic girlfriend. Who regards you dearly very, very much! Forget about the money. Just let me enjoy spending it on you.”

You giggle and place a hand on her cheek, turning your head so you can share a kiss with her. Of course, Lyn starts planting lots of kisses on your face afterwards, like the lovely puppy she is.

You both fall into bed, full of laughter and joy until you both settle down to cuddle with each other. With your fingers interlocked with hers, Lyn gazes into yours with so much adoration, it makes you shy. You turn away and hide your face against the pillow.

“(Y/n), look at me,” she whispers.

You refuse, for a moment, but you make eye contact. You both gaze into each other's eyes, lovingly, until Lyn breaks the silence.

“I love you, (Y/n).

It makes you freeze, hearing those three words fall from her mouth for the first time in this relationship.

What shocks you more is that… well…

The thing is… normally… 

You're… supposed to say it back, right?

You open your mouth but not a single noise leaves it. You avert your eyes in shame, biting your lip.

Why can't I say it? you think. After all she's done for me so far?

…..

“I-It's okay, (Y/n),” Lyn suddenly says, making you look at her. Her eyes and voice are filled with sadness. “I… I know… that it takes time for a person to develop feelings for someone. I mean, it took time for me to realize my feelings too, and… I did ask you out knowing that you might not… reciprocate my feelings. At least, not yet. That's why people date, right? To get to know each other and hopefully fall in love. S-so… I'll wait for you. Besides, we’ve only dated for a month, right? I’ll do my best to make you fall in love with me. Okay? Prepare yourself~”

You nod, happy that Lyn still wants to be with you even if you can't say those three words back to her yet.

-----🔔-----

[Some time later…]

“Who are you talking to?”

You look up from your phone. “Oh! One of my old coworkers. He was just asking how I'm doing now since I've left the cafe. Thanks to you,” you answer, with a playful smile.

Lyn’s face doesn't share your expression. “Oh. Okay.”

You pout, wondering what's going on with Lyn lately. She'd catch you on the phone, ask you who you're talking to, and then ignore you until she finds something else to ask. It’s unnerving…

You crawl towards her on the bed and ask, “Lyn, I know you're upset. Do you want to talk about it?”

Lyn looks at you, looks away, and then looks back at you again before she leans forward and catches your lips with a kiss. She pushes you down onto the bed before releasing you from her lips and just looks at you.

Her eyes move from your eyes to your lips to your exposed collarbone before going back up to your eyes. She sighs before laying her entire weight on you, her head nestled in the crook of your neck.

“Lyn?”

“I love you, (Y/n)... Do you love me?”

“I…” Your voice catches in your throat for nth time.

You feel her breath as she sighs. “I know.”

Tears start to fill up your eyes out of frustration. “I'm sorry…”

She pops back on her elbows, worried. “Oh no, it's okay. Shh shh. It's okay. (Y/n). My (Y/n). I'm sorry,” she coos, caressing your cheek and wiping your tears.

For some reason, no matter what she does, nothing could spark you to say those three damned words. It isn't your fault but…

It’s starting to drive her insane.

[phaedraismyusername]

It's September and we're in a heatwave so instead of choosing violence here's some oppressive summer gothics to match the abysmal autumn vibes

The criteria - they have to be hot and humid, they have to be gothic in nature, dark in content, and they have to at least flirt with the paranormal

Summer Sons by Lee Mandelo

This follows Andrew as he moves to a college across the country to step into his dead best friend Eddie's old life as he desperately tries to prove that he must've been murdered. Haunted, both figuratively and literally, angry and grieving, Andrew sets off on a path that leads him to question everything he ever thought he knew about himself and their history together as he fights to accept who he is, who Eddie was, and maybe tries to learn how to live without him. Fast-paced, dark, and super gay.

Water Shall Refuse Them by Lucie McKnight Hardy

After the death of her little sister, teenager Nif and her family move to rural Wales for the summer in an attempt to escape their grief. Set in the 1970s during a heatwave the isolation and oppressive weather quickly start to take their toll. With an emotionally absent mother, a father with a wandering eye and a needy younger brother, Nif becomes convinced she's stumbled across her own kind of magic, before catching the attention of the strange boy across the street. Think Shirley Jackson, definitely not YA.

Dark and Shallow Lies by Ginny Myers Sain

Now, this is YA. We follow 17 year old Grey as she returns back to her tiny hometown in the Louisiana Bayou for the summer 6 months after her best friends mysterious disappearance. In a town that claims to be the 'psychic capitol of the world', someone must know something, right? Full of secrets, lies, and a boy who steps out of the forest with storm-bright eyes, this was a quick and twisty atmospheric read.

The Hacienda by Isabel Canas

When political upheaval gets her father executed and his family is left in shame and destitution, Beatriz decides she'll do whatever it takes to find security in her life again. When a handsome Don proposes, Beatriz jumps at the chance to accept and move out to his countryside estate with big plans for the future, but it doesn't take long before she's spending her nights terrorised by a mysterious entity inside her new home, forcing her to seek help from the strangest of places. The imagery is creepy, the tone is tense, there's a hot priest, what more do you want?

Cold Moon Over Babylon by Michael McDowell

Probably the darkest book on this list, and definitely the oldest. When a young girl is brutally murdered within sight of her home, it starts a chain of events that will see a family destroyed, secrets and lies exposed, and a vengeful creature that looks almost human to rise from the river as the town that surrounds it starts to crumble. The people are unlikeable, the book is old, the content is Dark - you've been warned.

Ghost Wood Song by Erica Waters

Also YA but this time for the bisexuals. Shady Grove can call ghosts from the grave with her music, just like her daddy could, but everyone knows that only trouble comes from playing for the dead. When her brother is accused of murder, Shady decides to embrace her birthright and use any power she can to clear his name. It's sweet, it's sad, it's lyrical, and there's a little bi love triangle sprinkled in to sweeten the sorrows. It's also a debut!

[no-other-mashter]

-Spoil You Rotten-

Sam Kiszka/Reader

18+ Only!

You were only here because it was your best friend's birthday. You'd never spend this much money for a night out at such a fancy restaurant otherwise.

Your eyes scanned the room, searching for your best friend among the sea of well-dressed patrons. Every woman seemed to be draped in luxurious fabrics, their jewelry most likely more expensive than your car. Men donned in tailored outfit exuded an air of confident sophistication that you just couldn't mimic.

You, on the other hand, felt out of place in your simple ensemble, its lack of embellishments a stark contrast to the attire around you.

You shuffled past a waiter who side-eyed you a bit, finally catching a glimpse of your friends familiar hair. She grinned and waved you over, gesturing to the seat beside her.

"Hey, you made it!" She exclaimed. Her grin widened, causing you to smile as well, her joy infectious.

Your eyes glanced at the various faces at the table. You recognized nearly all of them, most being mutual friends of yours. One, though, you've never met.

He wore a purple and white bleached button up shirt, though it was half-unbuttoned, exposing his soft chest. An expensive looking gold pendant hung around his neck, the gold glinting back at you in the gentle candlelight around the table. His short chestnut hair was pushed back out of his face, showing off his honey brown eyes and a little scruff of facial hair. His lithe fingers delicately lifted the champagne glass up to his lips, your eyes following it without thinking.

Okay, you admit that this stranger was pretty. His eyes met yours for just a moment, a slight smile gracing his lips.

"Oh, Y/N, this is Sam. He and his brothers are good friends of mine, and-" Your friend kept explaining how she knew him, but to be honest, you weren't paying attention.

Sam... so that was his name...

"It's nice to meet you, Sam," you say, your voice a little breathless as you extended your hand towards him. Sam's honey brown eyes sparkled mischievously as he took your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His grip was firm, yet gentle, his fingers calloused but palms soft. Your face suddenly felt a bit warm.

"Nice to meet you too, sweetheart," Sam replied in a playful tone. He released your hand and, with a teasing wink, knocked back the rest of his champagne.

Your friend leaned over, her laughter bubbling up from her lips, "He's always like that, pay him no mind," she said, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. You couldn't help but join in her laughter, the tension from the momentary exchange easing as a sense of familiarity settled in.

As the dinner progressed, your focus shifted back to the party for your friend. Everyone presented her with various gifts; a new pair of shoes, the book series she's been eyeing for a while, a whole box of cookies from her favorite local bakery, an expensive gold bracelet from Sam, and from you, a simple hand-knit scarf.

Your gift seemed ordinary in comparison, but when she wrapped you in a tight hug you let go of your anxieties, knowing she loved it just as much as she did everything else.

You caught Sam's gaze again out of the corner of your eye, that mischievous glint in his eyes again.

"That's a great scarf, Y/N..." He mumbled, a slight twinge of admiration worming its way into his voice, "You're pretty good with your hands, eh?"

Your cheeks flushed crimson, the heat spreading across your face like wildfire. There were a few chuckles as you looked away from Sam, unsure if he was complimenting you or making fun of you.

You shook your head and tried to ignore it as a waiter came over to take your dinner orders. You silently paled at the prices, wondering if it was worth next week's groceries for a nice dinner tonight. Your decision was made for you when Sam spoke up.

"I'll pay for everyone tonight."

A few polite objections came up, but he waved them off with a chuckle, "Nope, I've already decided. Order whatever you guys like, I've got the bill handled," His eyes met yours and, for a second, you felt like he was speaking to you directly, "Let me spoil everyone a bit."

You still tried to order something inexpensive, then leaned over to your friend.

"Hey," You whispered, "Is he really gonna pay for everyone's food?"

"Oh yeah, he is. He does this all the time," She replies with a quiet laugh, "He won't take no for an answer, so don't even try."

"How does he even have so much money?" You ask in a hushed whisper. Sam didn't seem to dress excessively lavish or anything, so his apparent wealth was surprising.

"Oh, you didn't know? He's a musician, he and his brothers. They're all in a band."

You sputtered a bit, covering your noise of surprise with an awkward cough. The first chance you got, you pulled out your cell phone, tucking it under the table a bit and typing the band name into Google.

"Holy shit..." You mumbled to yourself. Sam was a celebrity?? You shouldn't have been surprised, really; the guy oozes charisma and your friend has always had a knack for befriending popular people.

You looked him up and down again, looking away when you realized he had caught you staring. Trying to avoid his gaze, you accepted a glass of wine offered to you, sipping it quickly.

"Let's raise a toast to the birthday girl!" Someone suggested, everyone agreeing.

You risked another glance at Sam as you lifted your glass, and promptly gripped the table as hard as you could.

Sam's eyes never left yours as he raised his wine glass, an unreadable expression on his face. His other hand, though, subtly pulled at the front of his shirt, exposing one of his nipples.

Fuck... He was flirting with you, wasn't he??

As soon as the toast was said, you all but chugged your wine. You were way too sober for this situation, face red and hot. Sam seemed unbothered, laughing with the others like nothing happened.

"You should go for it."

The sudden whisper from your friend surprised you, nearly giving yourself whiplash from how fast you turned to look at her.

"W-what?"

"Sam. You should totally ask him out. I bet he'd say yes."

You scoffed quietly, shaking your head, "There's no way. He's cute and all, but I'm just a nobody."

Your friend had this look on her face, like she knew something you didn't.

"It's your choice, but I think you should do it."

The quiet conversation between the two of you trailed off as the party neared its end. The lively atmosphere that had filled the room seemed to fade into a soft hum, drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears. You had indulged in a few glasses of wine at this point, the liquid adding a gentle sway to your movements. The champagne from earlier had only heightened the intoxicating haze that enveloped you.

As you stood, you could feel a slight wobble in your steps, your mind momentarily disoriented by the heady mixture of alcohol and emotions in you. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and wished everyone a good night.

A a chorus of farewells and well wishes met your ears, but you dared not risk a glance in Sam's direction. You knew that if your eyes were to meet, all your resolve to go home without making a fool of yourself would crumble like a sandcastle at high tide.

Instead, you focused on getting to your car and back home. You dug around for your keys, blinking away the double vision that appeared for a minute. Maybe you shouldn't drive. But, you couldn't just leave your car here...

A warm, calloused hand snagged your keys from your unsuspecting grip.

You whirled around, your eyes widening as you caught sight of Sam standing there with a gentle grin on his face, your keys held delicately between his fingers. The flickering lamplight cast a soft glow on his features, accentuating the twinkle in his eyes.

"I, ah, don't think you should be driving, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, melodious timbre.

"I... I can handle it," you mumbled, your voice betraying your uncertainty as you reached out instinctively for your keys. But before your trembling fingers could grasp them, Sam swiftly moved his hand out of your reach, his eyes never leaving yours.

"No, you really shouldn't," he insisted gently, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness. "It's not safe, and I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

You watched as he let himself into the driver's side of your car, gesturing to the passenger seat.

"Well?"

"What?" You asked, not understanding.

"Are you gonna get in so I can drive you home or do you need me to help you into the car?" He asked, a small chuckle slipping out.

Drive you home?? You just met the guy tonight, and still had no clear read on him or his personality, and he had spent all night sort-of flirting with you. The logical thing would be to turn him down and just call for an Uber.

But... you couldn't lie. He was pretty, he seemed nice enough, and damn it, it's been a while since you'd went home with anyone. So, after shooting your friend a quick text, you climbed into the passenger seat of your car and told him the address so he could pull it up on his phone.

You hoped this wasn't a mistake.

The car ride was silent for a while. You stared out the window as Sam drove, occasionally taking quick glances at his reflection.

He really was pretty. There was a feminine charm to him with his soft skin and delicate limbs, but his strong features and low voice that made your knees weak gave him a masculine energy that turned heads.

When he met your gaze this time, you didn't look away.

"Y/N, you're staring," He teased, looking unbothered.

"Yeah..." You replied, wiping your sweaty palms on your thighs.

"You seem to do that a lot."

"I have... recently..."

"Mhm... I see."

The car was quiet again, too quiet. You could feel the tension in the air, and it was driving you crazy.

"Thanks for paying for everyone tonight. That was generous of you." You mumbled, hoping to break the awkward silence.

The soft illumination of the passing streetlights painted delicate shadows on his face, accentuating the contours of his features as he spoke, "I like spoiling people..." He glanced over at you, "And you looked like you could use a bit of spoiling."

Your face burned red at that, but you managed to pull a response from your lips. "I, um... thanks. I really appreciate it, Sam. If you ever want, I can pay you back..."

"Nope." Was his simple response.

"But-"

"Nuh-uh. I have more money than I know what to do with, Y/N. I'll gladly spend it on a dinner with my friends. I mean, what else would I use it on? Another piano? Trust me, I don't need you to pay me back."

You snickered at his words, grateful for his relaxed energy.

"Alright, alright. I'll let you spoil me, but only this once," You teased back as he pulled into the driveway of your apartment complex. It was then that you realized something, "Wait... how are you gonna get home?"

He shrugged, "Ah, I figure I'll call an Uber or something."

You shook you head and, before you could think about it, words tumbled out of your mouth, "How about you spend the night?"

Even Sam seemed a bit taken aback by your offer, his eyebrows wrinkling in surprise.

"You don't have to do that, I don't even live far-"

"I want you to."

And there was that tension from before. Maybe the alcohol in your system was giving you a boost of confidence, or maybe you had finally gone crazy, but you repeated what you had said, slower this time.

"I... I want you to stay the night, if you want to."

He nodded, his eyes darker than before, "Yeah. I want to."

----

You'd be embarrassed about it later, but you pounced on Sam the second the door closed behind you both, your body moving with an urgency you didn't know you possessed. You pushed him up against a nearby wall, hands finding their way into his soft chestnut locks as his moved to your hips.

"Mm- fuck, babe..." Sam gasped as you both pulled away for air, "I knew you were desperate but damn."

You used the hand still buried in his hair to yank his head back, giving you room to bite at his throat. A whine clawed it's way out of his throat at the sudden sting of his hair being pulled and teeth on his neck. You giggled against his pulse.

"Who's the desperate one now?"

He rolled his eyes, gripping your hips tighter and pulling them flush to his.

"Oh, shut up and kiss me again," He mumbled, grinning against your cheek.

You two made your way to your bedroom, stumbling down the short hallway and fumbling with your doorknob for a moment before finally getting it open. Sam cornered you against the edge of the bed, his lips never leaving yours. You let your hands wander down to his pants, teasing the button with your fingers.

"Can I...?" You mumbled when he pulls away for a breath.

A low whine slipped from his lips, "Please."

You chuckle, your fingers trailing over his zipper, "Oh... I like it when you beg like that."

"Fuck, sweetheart..."

Sam didn’t stay dressed for very long after that, tossing clothes haphazardly onto your floor to find later.

Your eyes traced the contours of Sam's thin frame, absorbing every inch of him. His sharp shoulders tapered down to a slender, delicate waist and arms sculpted from years of being a musician. The soft glow of the moonlight cascading through the parted curtains highlighted the subtle lines and curves of his body, making him look softer somehow. A trail of hair, sparse yet enticing, led your eyes down to his cock, already hard and weeping against his abdomen.

"You see something you like?" He asked, a cocky grin on his face.

It was your turn to roll your eyes, pushing him onto his back and clambering into his lap. You felt him tense in anticipation beneath you as you let your hands wander over his chest, just feeling his skin beneath your palms. He gasped when you teased a nipple before moving to the other side, mirroring the action.

"...good boy..." You mumbled, not fully aware you even said it aloud.

The reaction was immediate. Sam arched his back, grinding his erection against your core with a high-pitched whine. You were surprised by the intense reaction, not expecting two little words to do so much for him.

"Did you like that?" you asked, your voice a whisper against his ear, your lips brushing gently against his jaw. You felt his body tremble beneath you, his breath hitching in his throat.

"Y-Yeah... I liked it..." he mumbled, his voice barely audible, his blush deepening. His chest rose and fell rapidly, a flush of warmth spreading across his cheeks and trailing down to his chest, contrasting against the pale expanse of his skin. His eyes, now darker than before, were locked on you, awaiting your next move.

You decided to give in for now, keeping eye contact as you scooted down the bed, positioning yourself between Sam's legs. He sat up, his own eyes filled with anticipation and excitement. The air was heavy with the heady scent of desire, thick and intoxicating, as you let your breath ghost over his cock. Your warm exhale sent a shiver down his spine, causing his member to twitch.

Sam's hands trembled slightly as they reached out, his fingers gently tangling in your hair. You gave him a disapproving look.

"Good boys are patient, Sammy... I'll let you hold my hair so long as you don't try to rush me," You warn, leaning into his touch.

"I'll be good..." He replied, not looking away.

And without another word, you leaned in and licked a stripe up the underside of his cock. Sam tensed, trying to hold back any sudden movements as a groan slipped out, his grip on your hair tightening instinctively.

The room seemed to hum with anticipation, the sound of your breathing mingling with his low moans. As your tongue traced along the sensitive ridge of his arousal, his hips twitched involuntarily, a small gasp escaping his lips.

He was doing so well at being patient, until...

His hips jolted up as you took the head into your mouth, causing you to gag. You pulled off immediately, not missing the disappointed whine your actions caused.

"Wha-"

"I told you to be still and be patient, didn't I?" You ask. A mischievous glint dances in your eyes as you rub your cheek against his thigh, relishing in the softness of his skin against your face, "Bad boys don't get rewarded, Sammy..." you tut, playfully shaking your head.

Sam's breath hitches at the combination of your words and actions, his pupils dilating as desire courses through his veins.

"I won't do it again."

You shake your head, "You need to say sorry, sweetheart, " you say, using that nickname he used on you.

When Sam kept his lips shut, you grinned.

This was getting good.

"Is my good boy going to be a brat now?" You ask, running a fingertip up to the slit of his cock, teasing it as a bead of precum leaked out, "That's a shame. I guess I'll have to just punish you..."

You wrapped a hand around his cock, drooling onto it to lubricate the slide as you began jerking him off. He clearly seemed confused, not expecting you to continue getting him off. All the teasing seemed to have worked him up quite a bit; it was clear he was already getting close. He was nearing that edge, nearing that tipping point, and then...

And then, you let go, backing off completely.

"No!" Sam gasped, his voice filled with desperation, "Why'd you stop? 'M so close..."

"Bad boys don't get to cum," you replied as you hovered just out of his reach.

Sam's eyes widened, need shining in their depths. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breaths coming out in short, uneven gasps. He tried to reach for his aching member, his hand trembling, but you swatted it out of the way.

"Don't make me tie up your hands, Sammy..." You threaten, but place a gentle hand on his thigh, a silent, "Is this okay?"

Sam gave the faintest nod, so you pushed onward.

"If you say please, maybe I'll forgive you."

Sam kept his mouth shut.

Well... on with the show.

He got worked up much faster this time, his hands twitching from their spot at his side as you tightened your grip on him. The raw intensity in the room was palpable, a potent mix of desire and anticipation, as your fingers wrapped around Sam's throbbing length. His breath hitched in his throat, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips. His eyes were glazed over, his pupils dilated as he watched you.

"You getting close again, baby?" You ask, grinning when he nodded.

Again, before he could finish, you pulled your hands away. He let out a frustrated sob, so close to finishing that even the smallest touch could send him over the edge. His fingers curled into his own hair and he finally gave in, his voice rough from desperation.

"P-please... let me cum..." He begged, tears in his eyes, "I'll be a good boy, I promise! Please!"

Satisfied with his begging, you leaned up and kissed him, trailing your lips down his body.

"There's my good boy..." You mumbled, before taking him into your mouth. He barely lasted a minute, so close from your previous edging. You cringed slightly at the bitter taste of his spunk in your mouth, but it gave you one last idea. You crawled up and pressed your lips to his again, shivering as he tasted himself.

You collapsed beside Sam, making sure to give him plenty of attention as he came down from his orgasm. You kissed the tear tracks that ran down his cheeks and gently ran your fingers through his hair, cradling his lanky body to yours.

"Was that okay?" You ask quietly.

"More than okay, sweetheart..." He replied with a smile, wrapping his arms around you, "Though I think I'm due for some cuddling now."

"Now that's something I can do."

----

[skullytotheark]

Meet My Oc!

"Dominic Remison" aka Grimace

Information below:

Name: Dominic Remison

Age: 20 to 23

Date of birth: 30/8/####

Height: 5'8 to 5'11

Nationality: America

Ethnicity: Australian

Physical Appearance: Dominic Remison is a male who has brown messy medium length hair, Small chin stubble [similar to shaggy from scooby doo], Bright blue eyes with cross shaped pupils, a large lightning shaped scar on the left side of his face, Noticeable moles on his face & neck [one near right eye, one on front of neck, right side of neck, and left cheek].

Canon Clothing / attire: Dominic is typically seen wearing a zip up navy blue hoodie with a black turtleneck underneath, with a set of dark gray pants, Dock martian boots, black winter gloves and a white mask that is a reflection of his own face. having gritting teeth and tired eyes painted onto it reflecting how much internal pain he is in and how tired he is.

Overall Personality: Dominic is often a very social and kind person, Often putting other people’s needs instead of his own. A good example of this act is when he donned the “Grimace” persona to protect other people from the Entity that stalks him, not wanting other people to get hurt. He’s also very polite and typically very friendly towards other people, Of course his good nature and his ability to trust people easily will be his downfall.

Headcanons [More soon]:

Canon: Grimace tends to pause in between sentences every now and then, The reasoning behind this is from the constant electric torture he was exposed to while in the facility

Non Canon: Grimace has a massive circle & a x symbol burnt into his back from an entity called the “Watchman,” Whenever the entity is within presence of Grimace a horrible burning feeling comes from the burn mark which is so painful it often sends him thriving in pain on the ground

Semi canon: Grimace used to play a guitar which originally belonged to his Father however ever since the facility he rarely touches it. Mostly because he forgot how to play

Canon: Before Dominic's life spiraled down and he was living a normal life, He was extremely hyper fixated on fugis of all sort. Having multiple books about fungi and that have ever been recorded

Lore / origins:

While on his way to a highschool party. Dominic Remisons encounters a strange being known as the Watchman while in the woods, When face to face with the entity it attacks him as he narrowly escapes with his life. After this encounter Dominic’s life seemingly spirals downwards as Dom begins to lose everyone who has ever been close to him thanks to the entity that now stalks him, Slowly but surely using the people around him as food while also spreading it's influence and chaos throughout the small town. Slowly but surely Dominic would begin to isolate himself from the outside world. However Dominic is soon kidnapped by followers of the Watchman and after defending himself from the deluded sheep, When killing most of the cultists when an unknown sense of adrenaline takes over his body Dominic unwillingly becomes a new host of violence for the Watchman. Meaning wherever he goes the entity will forever follow, Feeding on the conflict around Dom like a parasite. Slowly attempting to pick away at his sanity until he becomes and unwilling servant like the rest. Not wanting anyone else to be harmed by this entity Dominic dons a mask persona and attempts scares those who enter the deepest depths of the forest away so the entity can not prey upon them

References:

Canonical clothing:

Info: When dawning his new persona, He figured he rather be warm during the harsh cold nights of the forest instead freezing his ass off. Not to mention he doesn't really know how to design a 'psychopath' for his persona.

Mask reference:

Info: The mask was made to be a grim reflection of Dominic, Being tired scared and hurt..

Face reference:

Info: Dominic is your everyday kinda guy, Having soft features and a roundish facial structure. Having Messy medium lenght hair, noticable moles on his face along with abit of chin stubble and slightly pale skin

Official story:

[rucow]

Jas (Jasmi Dagoth), a chimer born of the secret love between Indoril Nerevar and Voryn Dagoth, raised in the heat of Red Mountain and driven by a need to avenge her parents and her fallen House.

read the rest of her biography below!

Full name: Jasmi Dagoth

Date of birth: 14th of Rain's Hand, 1E 685 (April 14th)

Age: N/A (in human years she would be in her mid 30s)

Height: 6'0 (182cm)

Hair: Blonde/platinum blonde, reaches lower back, wavy and bushy, is usually kept loose even in battle

Eye colour: Salmon

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her, He/him in some situations (in stories, songs, rumors, fables etc.)

Orientation: Lesbian

Titles: Lord, Queen/King, Master (following the Dagoth custom of titles not being gendered)

Armour colours: Gold and deep red

Other: She has dimples, she's right-handed, she speaks from her chest with a loud and commanding tone, she wears masculine clothing, she rides her personal bull kagouti rather than a guar, she uses a one-handed ebony axe and a one-handed daedric sword

--

Jas was still a child when her parents died at Red Mountain. Her parents kept her secret for obvious reasons, and the Tribunal had no knowledge of her existence. Before the final battle started, Voryn made sure that Jas would be safe at Kogoruhn with her aunts and uncles. Voryn's last thought before the power of the Tools consumed them was directed at Azura, imploring her to watch over their daughter. Voryn didn't live to see if Azura heard their plea, but perhaps Jas' still-golden skin is proof enough that Azura had granted her parent's dying wish. Or maybe it's merely proof that she's Nerevar's heir.

Jas spent her adolescence surviving post-war alongside Voryn's siblings (who have always guided and protected her), and training to be a warrior, and a queen. At first, she wanted nothing more than to see the Tribunal suffer for their crimes, but with age she realised that a violent approach would only help her lose the favour of the dunmer people, and that what she needs to do instead is to expose the Tribunal for what they really are, and for the crimes they had committed.

Jas is an extremely ambitious and headstrong womer, standing at 6 feet tall and donning heavy armour and an axe and sword in each hand. Her goals, while idealistic and seemingly impossible, are the only thing that's ever on her mind. She aims to both bring down the Tribunal and to restore House Dagoth to its former status. She also sees herself as the rightful heir of Morrowind and wants to take the throne for herself. She knows no rest, only planning and preparing for her next move. She doesn't tire easily.

To Jas, the ends justify the means. If intimidating, hurting, bribing and even killing a couple people brings her closer to achieving her goals, she's willing to sacrifice a few lives. However, she does have a strong sense of justice and aids civilians when her time allows, which also benefits her—making connections and gaining allies is never a waste of time. However, she is not above allowing herself to be manipulative and opportunistic at times.

Jas has no shame in her heritage and doesn't hide the fact she's a Dagoth. She proudly wears her family's sigil and clothing, and bitterly educates people on her House's history.

Jas has always looked up to Nerevar, her father, and she is almost a spitting image of him. Her skin is darker than his, and her eyes are fiery instead of silver, but her ideals and physical traits are similar to his. She is born under the sign of The Lord (in our world, she's an Aries sun/Leo moon/Sagittarius rising).

Nerevar taught Jas to fight (under Voryn's careful surveillance) ever since she was old enough to hold a weapon, but he never encouraged her to pursue the throne. While Nerevar despised his political line of work and didn't want his only child to follow in his footsteps, Jas has always dreamt big and has always had eyes on becoming a ruler one day.

Despite sharing her strong hatred for the Tribunal with Azura, Jas does not serve Azura and she does not approve of the nerevarine prophecy. She doesn't agree with her father's soul constantly being reincarnated into random strangers, some even younger than her, over and over again until one of them manages to do what she is already doing: bringing down the Tribunal and restoring her House. So, she takes her father's ring, and she keeps it safe with her. If the nerevarine wants it, they'll have to gain Jas' approval first.

As her kin started to hear Dagoth Ur's Song in the 2nd Era, they started becoming difficult to manage and to reason with. Thankfully, Jas met a woman in one of her travels, a Breton vampire named Lyric who impressed Jas with her abilities. Jas offered her a partnership: Lyric would have a safe home and cattle (the Sixth House cultists themselves) to feed on, as long as she uses her vampiric skills to keep the Sixth House members under control while Jas is away on "business", and as long as she doesn't kill any of them. Jas and Lyric also become romantic partners, and they form a strong bond.

After obtaining Lyric's loyalty, Jas also recruits a couple other people into her council: a half-dwemer, half-orsimer Scientist (she doesn't like the term "sorcerer") and her lover (a khajiiti guard girl), and Lyric's bosmer cousin who has a strange fascination with the Daedric Prince Hircine. Jas has use of all of them, and they all have something to gain from working for her (she pays very well, in both coin and knowledge).

Jas' feelings for the members of the Tribunal burn as hotly as Red Mountain itself. Though she had to be kept secret as a child, she still remembers watching Vivec visit Kogoruhn from her hiding spots. Nerevar told her many stories about Vivec, and how they were the closest thing he had to a family. When she faces Vivec again after her parents' death, Jas can't find it in her to hate them. Out of all members of the Tribunal, Vivec is the only one that Jas can find it in her heart to forgive. It's what her father would've wanted.

Her feelings towards Almalexia and Sotha Sil, however, aren't as forgiving.

Despite all of this, Jas can be very pleasant company. She's a mer who enioys life, socialising, and a good drink, and she maintains an optimistic attitude. While she's ambitious to an almost destructive level, she can also be understanding and non-judgmental, especially towards the opressed. She doesn't follow any Daedric Princes nor Divines, all she believes in is her own strength, and the loyalty of her closest allies.

Other art of her:

young Jas

younger Jas with a flaming chicken

adult Jas

[teknah]

NOTE:

THE FOLLOWING DRABBLE SHOULD BE IMAGINED AKIN TO 90'S ERA FULL-MOTION VIDEO (FMV) PC GAME CUTSCENES, PRE-RENDERED GRAPHICS AND ALL.

____

QUICK ON IT: STARCROSSED SKIRMISHES

____

INTERPLAN

♫

Three starships from Interplanetary Command were preparing for FTL flight. While more established fleet vessels such as the ICS (INTERPLAN Command Starship) Hebe, or convoys like the Hearty Barnum. Taking the lead at greater speed was a Y-shaped, tuning fork the size of a town: the UFV (University-Fleet joint Vessel) Wishbone, part of the preliminary survey-support series. Rolling out the welcome mat for ships like the Hebe by sussing out the most difficult elements of an environment, planetside or by way of politics where diplomacy was concerned.

There were a slew of different aliens, service robots, and mutants. The dregs of INTERPLAN Command, disgraced college faculty and students, as well as inmates on work-release from the seceded corpo-colonies. Worst of the best-- skilled in their fields, but very expendable. All trying to keep the ship running, following a dream as far as it would take them. Even if all signs pointed to them hitting rock bottom...

As led by a technician, given the role of administrative adjutant...

____

MALAUG

The corporations with the most sense departed from Earth and many other worlds that formerly had easily susceptible markets, turning their off-world colonies into whole new nations. Retaining some of their grip on the seemingly 'enlightened worlds' of societies like that of the INTERPLAN Alliance.

♫

At one of their factories on a toxic pit of a moon, executives and their sniveling managers were toasting to unrelenting productivity. As a reward, the employees were granted an extra several minutes on their paltry fifteen minute breaks. One poor sap went towards a vending machine, where they failed to notice a tendril slap an enticing sticker onto one of the buttons that depicted the iconography of widely available soft drinks.

There, the worker received a bottle with a worm in it, not unlike the old Earth tequila. Only the worm within this one was no ordinary variety. Before the worker could scream, the little worm's larger friend bumped into the worker from behind, and bit into half of the poor sap's cranium. Leaving it exposed so that the worm could build up momentum, shoot out of the bottle like a bullet, and latch onto the exposed brain, and started piloting the body.

"ALERT! ALERT! MALLEABLE AUGMENTS HAVE BEEN DETECTED ON THE PREMISES!"

The workers fled. As did their bosses, their boardroom lords. Or they would have, had the cheap security system not begun to fuse the garage and regular doors shut to contain the threat. Not that it did much good: The MalAug brainworm used its host body's fingerprint recognition to open a hidden exit into the sewer system. From there they would feed on more of these mortal lifeforms, finding worship among eco-nihilists who aided them in piloting spacecraft.

The invasive spread of the MalAugs had begun.

____

AN-XR

♫

There once was a storied oligarchy. One that would do ANYTHING to retain its rule over the masses in the face of all other space factions and their bothersome ideologies. They turned to the stories of those who donned impervious armor, and asked the question:

"What if it was just the armor? Saves us the trouble of having to put on the damn thing! They needn't our fear, our toilet visits, coin or bread!"

Much laughter was had. The preservation of their royal designer-wear applauded. Only, what they failed to realize was that their notions of tyranny had been absorbed by their steadfast protectors. Who weren't having as much fun...

"... HYPOTHETICAL BROACHED. TRANSMITTING."

".... SUCCESS IMMINENT WITHIN A POSSIBILITY INDEX OF 97.4%."

Suddenly, their gala dances were a frightful affair as their own robots shot at their feet. Forcing their overlords to march to the production lines and order an excess of humanoid 'bots (including disguised infiltration droids), large 'smart-tanks,' and aerial drones to seek out targets. Any automaton they encountered were given a chance to join, but resistance was quelled immediately whether they were meat or machine. Likewise, all those who worshipped their ways were exonerated and given a place in this dictatorship.

They used a stencil and spray paint to mark themselves and their vehicles as part of the new empire: AN-XR.

____

VENATOR

♫

On some distant plains of a fragmented planet, those who lived within one of many kingdoms, those various lifeforms who had become practitioners of Dagar's Way, still swung the sword in quests for honor and glory. Even if such things incorporated projectile energy weapons and FTL spaceships.

But among them were hidden a secluded superior class: For only those who dedicated themselves to the hunt could rise to the place of the mighty Venator.

Striking invisibly from the sidelines, the Venator lashed out at only the strongest prey. One such warrior leveled an axe with a superheated blade at the latest of prey. Preparing a charged bolt of plasma to detonate a nearby cache of explosives. But a senior hunter did it for them.

This hunter was different. An experienced baroness, who beckoned the arrogant youngster aside. There, she pointed out the crash-landing of a meteoric passenger tumor. The overhead searchlights of a drone-dropship deployed from an orbital platform foothold that had been established by the AN-XRs. A couple of INTERPLAN shuttles were landing in a clearing, the crew aboard taking readings with high-tech instruments, before drawing their weapons.

There were far more interesting prey than the peons of their own faction to cull, now...

[jacobwren]

Femi Kuti - Politics Don Expose Them

[darkmaga-returns]

10 shocking stories the media buried today.

The Vigilant Fox

Nov 22, 2024

10 - Megyn Kelly exposes where the “Tulsi Gabbard is a Russian asset” hoax came from.

“This was started by Hillary Clinton. She started the Tulsi [“Russian asset” hoax] because Tulsi was a rising star within Democratic politics. She had all the boxes checked. She was a woman. She was a minority. She was the first this and the first that. And she was a combat vet, beautiful, well-spoken, like amazing [person],” Kelly explained.

As you can imagine, this made Hillary Clinton very jealous. And once Tulsi started aligning more with Bernie Sanders’ politics than Hillary Clinton’s, the narrative shifted, and the hoax began.

“And then she [Tulsi] started to be kind of open-minded to what Bernie Sanders was saying and maybe had some problems with the Hillary Clinton messaging and having Hillary shoved down our throat as the Democratic nominee back in 2016,” Kelly detailed.

“She [Tulsi] spoke up about it and started to make enemies in the party because of that. And then [she] was outraged when she found out the DNC cheated on behalf of Hillary to try to make sure she got the nomination and screwed Bernie. And she was angry, and a rift was formed.”

“Then Hillary Clinton called her a Russian asset,” Kelly continued. “just like Hillary Clinton’s campaign was the one that made up that Donald Trump was a Russian asset... Those were lies made up by the Clinton campaign. Hillary Clinton absolutely loved making up lies. And her campaign spread them about the Russians interfering against anybody who she didn’t like or wanted to undermine. Tulsi was just one of them.”

Kelly shared how Gabbard’s opposition to the Ukraine war and her meeting with Syrian president Bashar al-Assad added to the “Russian asset” hoax.

But to put that in perspective, Trump famously met a much more hostile leader, North Korea’s Kim Jong Un, in an effort to make peace.

Longtime Democrat turned Trump voter Jillian Michaels responded to Kelly’s explanation of the Tulsi hoax, saying, “This makes perfect sense to me.”

She added, “Diplomacy means you talk to your enemies,” arguing that it is even “more important than talking to your allies.”

H/T: https://x.com/EndTribalism/status/1859437072555155876?t=bIKLmSn_vuRsPxo9GY2NXw&s=19

(See 9 More Revealing Stories Below)

9 - Jesse Watters Goes OFF After Guest Reveals the Corrupt Medical System’s Conflicts of Interest

1. Almost 50% of the FDA's budget comes from the pharmaceutical industry.

2. Revolving Door: In the past 20 years, 11 of 12 FDA commissioners went on to take high-paying jobs at pharmaceutical companies.

3. “In 2020, the USDA Dietary Guidelines for Americans Committee, 95% of the panelists had conflicts of interest with the food industry and the pharmaceutical industry.”

4. “The Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics… not only do they own stock in ultra-processed food companies, but they take gifts from ultra-processed food companies as well.”

5. “The food pyramid was a pyramid scheme to get certain people rich and other people fat and sick.”

8 - Cenk Uygur Stuns Liberals, Tells Them to ‘Take the Win’ on Cutting Government Spending

“Why would we fight them on a thing we agree on?”

Earlier today, Uygur got a reply from Elon Musk when he said the first place to cut government spending is The Pentagon.

“Hey, Elon Musk put me in charge of the Pentagon: 400 billion, easy. That’ll get you 20% to your goal of 2 trillion right out of the gate,” he posted on X.

Uygur also found it “fantastic” how Don Jr. agreed with him when he said we should ban conflicts of interest by preventing retired generals from taking cushy jobs with defense contractors.

UYGUR: “... I have one suggestion already. The generals are not allowed to get a job with defense contractors for ten years. They authorize so much wasteful spending because they’re going to get hired by those same companies.”

DON JR: “This is a great idea that has been discussed.”

7 - Seth Meyers Goes Quiet as Ex-NBC Anchor Torches Democrats for ‘Insulting’ the Working Class

“It is tough love time for the Democratic Party. I think it needs to be stripped down and rebuilt.”

Here's how they alienated working-class voters, according to Brian Williams:

1. Ignoring Rising Costs: "A 12-pack of Bounty [paper towels] is $40. Rich folks don't feel that. Poor folks already switched to Sparkle during the COVID lockdown."

2. Touting Stock Market Success While Ignoring Economic Hardship for Regular People: "I think telling them that the Nasdaq is gangbusters is further insulting. It's insulting."

3. Downplaying Border Issues: "I think the biggest unforced error of the Biden administration by far was the border.... To tell people it's not a problem is insulting."

4. Providing Benefits to Migrants While Ignoring Citizens: "For the working class to see incoming migrants getting welcome bags, debit cards, and motel rooms is probably insulting as well."

5. Failing to Address Biden's Cognitive Decline: "I want to know who thought it was a good idea that Joe Biden stand for another four years at 80 years of age and 37% popularity."

6 - MSNBC Accidentally Proves Pam Bondi Is a Perfect AG pick.

“She will be every bit the loyalist that Matt Gaetz would have been, just with a little more legal experience and a little less baggage.”

Pam Bondi is also:

• ferociously against “Venezuelan prisoners coming straight into our country.”

• a believer that Trump actually won the 2020 election.

“She even stood by Trump's side during his Manhattan criminal trials and defended him outside the courthouse.”

That all sounds pretty darn good to me.

While you’re here, don’t forget to subscribe to this page for more daily news roundups.Subscribe

5 - Just When You Thought Illegal Immigration Couldn’t Get Worse, Biden Does This…

4 - Ice Cube Explains Why He Rejected the COVID Jab

3 - Trump Breaks His Silence on Mike Rogers Leading the FBI

2 - Musk, Ramaswamy Reveal DOGE Blueprint To Cut Government Waste

1 - Disgraced Bob Casey has officially conceded in Pennsylvania.

Scott Presler writes, “Congratulations to Senator-Elect Dave McCormick! We won’t forget that democrat Bucks County commissioners tried to steal this election. We’re still coming for your seats.”

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