#ship: fuck the police (literally)

[sourstiless]

like i genuinely think the world will heal when people stop pretending that not shipping zutara is about morality

[thwipsthrown]

'proshippers dni' tell me you havent learned media literacy without telling me

[panuccispizza]

anti fict people are like catholic fujoshis

[schrodingers-tits]

two silly robots fall in love and take over the world

@olivepopsicle them>>>>

[singsweetmelodies]

Why are you posting Carlando and even Piarlos content if you don't like Carlos? Math ain't mathing...

well, firstly, anon, this is tumblr dot com, not maths class. i've said repeatedly, and i will say it again, that i reserve the right to be as hypocritical and insane as i want here. after all, it's tumblr - if i can't be insane and hypocritical here, then where can i?

example: anyone who watches my blog at all during a race week will know that i am NO max fan. not in the slightest. and yet i will occasionally reblog maxiel fic recs. why? well, because they're quite often quite well-written. at the end of the day, i'm a fangirl and also a bisexual disaster, so if there's a well-written gay fanfic, the chances are relatively high that i will read and enjoy it. also: i think there's quite a significant difference between fic!max (who i occasionally enjoy) and driver!max (who i despise quite passionately.) fic!max has a lot of background and nuance that can make for fascinating characterisation, and as a writer, i just enjoy that.

now for carlos specifically: please let it be known that i do not hate him the way i hate max. not even close. i am, however, a dedicated chirlie (charles girlie) and anyone who gets in the way of charles doing well is automatically in my bad books. i do try to be at least a little reasonable about it, though, and yes i absolutely do realise that a lot of major fuck-ups this season were ferrari's, not carlos' (see: silverstone 2022.) but yeah, unfortunately the way carlos has handled a lot of interviews this year really rubbed me up the wrong way, and i read one too many comparisons of carlos girlies calling him more talented than charles as well. which.... babe, no.

like i said at the start, i am fully aware that i'm a hypocrite lmao. but i'm not HERE to be unbiased. we are watching a sport - everyone is biased towards their favourites, and i'm not going to apologise for that.

and as for carlando and piarlos - i treat them the same way as i would maxiel. carlos might not be on my favourites list as a driver, but he's an interesting character to explore in fic. i am at the end of the day a writer, and i like interesting characters to explore, so yes, i am quite happy to post carlando or piarlos or very very occasionally even charlos content (because akira is the best and might convert me one day. we'll see.)

anyway! the last thing i wanted to say to you, anon, is just a gentle reminder again of the PURPOSE of fandom. it is an escape from real life, somewhere where we can come to have fun. the same rules and restrictions and - dare i say it - morals that we use irl do not apply here. they just don't! fandom should be about what makes one happy, and nobody really has the right to police that, i don't think.

so tl;dr - anon, i am here to do whatever it is that makes me happy in that moment. if that's carlando and/or piarlos, then that's what i'll do. if you have a problem with that, then i'm happy to point you in the direction of the Unfollow button, lmao - curate your experience! see what you want to see. have fun!

x

[meejijis]

"Why are all SK fans proshippers" Silence fetus

[confessionsdiaz]

Me being a hater

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Multiverse Police

I've seen the idea that GIW is actually SCP foundation somewhere, and lately, I've been thinking a lot about Fenton Happy Ending, so I bring you this. Behold, GIW/SCP, Team Phantom, and Fentons are working all together, and the whole wide multiverse fears them.

So, a giant green Lazarus Pit that looks more like a vortex than an actual Pit randomly opens in, say, Ohio. Because I heard a lot of weird shit happens in Ohio. The world is worried, JL gets sent there, but they are not exactly sure of what to do with it. Nothing comes out of it, and, well, no one is volunteering to just jump inside it - Batman made everyone read his files on Lazarus Waters, and they are reasonably wary.

But then a thing appears literally out of thin air on top of it. It looks like a spaceship, kind of, but more sci-fi than what real spaceships look like. And before anyone says anything, a large green - Lazarus green - dome appears, effectively covering both the ship and the Pit and cutting the heroes off.

The heroes are Confused (tm). And worried. And no one has an idea of what the fuck is going on, for all they know it could be some kind of yet another alien invasion.

Then, two figures on the hoverboards - one read and one teal - come out of the ship, flying over the Pit. They are followed by drones, and they all look like they are... scanning the Pit? A few more people, wearing black visors and shiny white suits that look like they are packed with all kinds of tech, slide down on the ropes straight inside the Pit. It sure looks like they are very familiar with it and have a good idea of what they are doing, working as a team.

One of the figures on the hoverboard, the one in a teal suit, notices the heroes on the other side of the green dome. She - because both of them look feminine enough - slows down and flies down to the ground, landing in front of Superman and taking off her helmet. It reveals a rather young, no older than twenty years old girl with fiery red hair tied in a bun, with eyes the same color as her suit. She smiles at them.

"Hi, you must be the Justice League?" She asks politely, and as Superman gives her a nod just out of surprise at her friendly attitude, she touches her ear, "Mom, this is DC sector universe. Pretty sure it's not a dimension we've been before, though." She turns back to Superman, "You don't recognize any of this, do you?"

Batman intervenes before Supes has the time to answer, "Who are you?"

The girl nods and taps her ear again, "Yeah, they definitely don't know us. So mark it as either an unfamiliar dimension or an unfamiliar timeline." Then she turns to Batman and smiles.

"You can call us interdimensional police. And since all the Batmans we ever encountered never believed us, I'm going to send you a copy of the files your other versions complied all together, so you can read and add more if you feel like it."

She touches her wrist computer, and, a few moments later, Batman's comm comes online with Oracle's voice:

"B, I'm getting a shit ton of files on... Multiverse Law Enforcement?.. out of nowhere. What's going on?"

Now, JL is baffled. Some of them - Flashes and Bats, for example - knew there was a whole wide multiverse going on, but to learn the multiverse has police? That's new.

Meanwhile, the redhead continues:

"The green thing behind me is a natural portal to the Infinite Realms, the dimension between dimensions. Which is really not what is supposed to be happening, so we are in the process of fixing it. It will take from ten minutes to a few hours, depending on what's on the other side, but the portal will be gone soon, and then I'll have to ask you some questions."

"Questions about what?" Asks Flash, and the girl waves her hand in the air.

"Oh, well, about the portals? If one so big is opening up, it means a few smaller ones had to exist in this dimension already. Our tech is not picking them up if they are smaller than a certain size, but you must have seen them before. I believe in the DC sector, you call them Lazarus Pits? We can take care of them later, too."

The second hoverboarder flies closer to them and revs her engine.

"Jazz, talk to them later, Tucker and Agents are done. Fentons are about to get Dannies down, so you need to either come up or leave the shield."

The girl - Jazz - looks surprised.

"Dan, too?"

"Yeah, it's the Toothy Jungle on the other side. They wanted to ask Ember, but, eh, what's her guitar gonna do to plants, even if they are sentient?" The red hoverboarder shrugs, and Jazz tilts her head, looking back to the heroes.

"I think I'll stay with them. You know it gets violent when Dan goes down, so people get antsy about us. I don't want to give the wrong impression."

The other girl huffs, but doesn't argue.

"Okay. Get out of the shield, then, and for Ancients sake, keep your comm open. Danny has an aneurysm every time you turn it off." With that, she flies away, back to the ship, and Jazz taps her hoverboard so it folds down into a hexagon shape no bigger than a backpack. Then, she steps through the shield, joining the JL on the other side of it.

"Are you not scared we might take you hostage?" Asks Wonder Woman just out of curiosity, and Jazz smiles pleasantly at her.

"Don't judge a girl by her looks. I don't want to brag, but I did fist fight Superman once and won."

----------

So basically, after Amity Park got sucked into Infinite Realms, the whole town just kind of collectively decided they like it there. And somehow they reached a happily ever after with both Danny's reveal to his parents and GIW, and then Clockwork showed up and was like, you guys want human food supply, running water and electricity, right? Well, I can do that, and so much more, you can be the ultimate perfect town. And for the price? You gonna go on adventures from time to time and fix the multiverse when shit hits the fan in various dimensions and universes. Doesn't that sound like fun?

And Amity Park, who's seen so much weird stuff over the years that it greatly affected their idea of common sense, goes yeah, that does sound fun! Let's go, people!

So here they are, appearing in different universes and doing damage control. They are, like, the superheroes for superheroes.

I'm probably going to write a part 2 to it, I want to show off Danny and Dan and Dani too. Halfas on the loose, JL is mildly concerned and kind of scared, and Jazz is just like yeah, that's just another regular Tuesday :)

I love Jazz being a badass, yes. Also, if you didn't get it, the other one on the hoverboard is Val, the drones are controlled by Tucker, and the people on the ropes are GIW agents.

| next -> |

[dumbseee]

oh shit.

pro hero!bakugo who has a crush on you.

pro hero!bakugo katsuki x idol!reader.

genre: fluff

__

- the first time bakugo agreed to do an interview was because todoroki and izuku were also there. the top three heroes were asked all sorts of questions before the journalist finally asked thee question. "so~ you guys are so private, we don’t really know much about you. so let’s get to know our top three heroes! first question, who is your celebrity crush?" she asked, a smirk on her lips as she looked at the three heroes in front of her. izuku blushed, fumbling with his answer, todoroki crossed his arms on his chest, saying that he had no time for that kind of stuff, and bakugo scoffed, crossing his legs on the small table in front of them. "celebrity crush? do you have other shitty questions or are we done?" he glared at the interviewer who nearly melted on the spot. izuku elbowed his friend and offered an awkward smile to the poor woman. "but aren’t you a big fan of y/n? i heard you sing her songs under the shower, one time." shoto chimed in, face blank. "what?! no! what are you saying ice hot?! i’ll fucking crush your face, come here!" bakugo jumped from his seat and had to be restrained by izuku and a few security guards, meanwhile shoto sat there, wondering what he did wrong this time.

- the interview went viral, with everyone making fun of the mighty dynamight and his little crush on you. he nearly sent shoto to the moon after seeing all those edits of you and him on social media or your fans calling him the president of the fandom. your fans are even shipping you together! and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t like it. he actually made a fake twitter and tiktok account where he’d like and favourite every single edit/tweet about you. he’d be smiling and blushing like a high schooler in the dark of his room.

- he has a locked drawer in his room, where he keeps all your albums and merch. he’d literally set on fire whoever manage to open it and discover his little secret.

- he spent hours in front of his phone, the screen showing your dm page on instagram, he wanted to dm you so bad. make the first move and try to get close to you, but bakugo was a coward, as funny as it sounded, bakugo was very intimidated by you. he ended up throwing his phone away, he’d try again tomorrow.

- one day he got called for an incident involving a woman and someone who tried to break into her house. nothing major so bakugo went alone, imagine his shock when he saw that the victim was you and the man was your stalker who’s been following you and harassing you for months. he immediately saw red and grabbed the man, slammed him to the ground and threatened to shove a bomb down his ass if he moved. "are you okay?" when you saw dynamite arrive from your window, you immediately ran outside, since you felt safe with the hero around. you hugged yourself and nodded, looking down at the shaking man, but bakugo didn’t believe you. soon enough, police arrived to arrest the man and everyone left, leaving you alone with bakugo. "he’ll leave you alone now, i’ll make sure of it." he smiled gently, putting a hand on your shoulder you forced a smile but slowly lost it when you saw him getting ready to leave. you quickly grabbed his hand and looked at him with pleading eyes, the sight made his heart jump. "please, will you stay with me?" how could he say no?

- bakugo couldn’t get rid of the pink color decorating his cheeks. it was the first time he met his celebrity crush and bakugo wished it was different. he wished he came earlier so you wouldn’t even be aware that your stalker was trying to break into your home. you offered him some food and water but he declined everything, you were getting ready for bed when the incident happened so you were exhausted from practice and rehearsal. you also felt bad for keeping him with you when he was clearly busy or tired from patrolling. "i’m so sorry for bothering you, i know he won’t come back, but i’m still terrified." you played with your hand and felt tears burning your eyes. "don’t. you don’t have to be ashamed for feeling scared, but trust me when i say this, this bastard won’t ever come close to you again." he said it in such a low tone, you thought you imagined it. you nodded and hugged him, which surprised him to no end and also made him as red as a tomato. he didn’t know what to do with his hands so he simply put them around your waist, gently patting your back.

- you fell asleep with the light on, bakugo was sitting on the chair next to your bed and kept his eye on you. he stayed with you till the sun woke up. he noticed every detail of your face, the small freckles decorating your beautiful nose, your long and dark lashes, your full and soft lips and overall your beautiful face. you were, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman bakugo had ever seen in his life. while looking at you, he felt a weird sense of possessiveness and protection wash over him. he wanted to protect you and make sure no one would ever hurt you again.

- when you woke up, you saw a small note on your nightstand, "had to leave for work pretty girl, but don’t worry i’ll see you soon. here’s my number: xxx - xxx - xxx" you didn’t know why but you smiled at his note. of course, you immediately registered his number and sent him a lovely text, thanking him again for yesterday and inviting him for dinner some day. you also signed it "your celebrity crush (;" bakugo almost choke on his coffee when he read your text.

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Do you guys see my vision

We do not use pharmacology to create new complimmentary ship dynamics nearly enough. Who is the Amanita muscaria (fly agaric mario mushroom) and who is the Atropa Belladonna (deadly nightshade) in your otp

[kiyomitakada]

i know its a classic. possibly cliche already. but i do wonder about Tumblr In The Death Note Universe probably more than i should

2 notes

💅 toxicbff Follow

if i see one more post attributing kira's powers to ~supernatural powers~ instead of the obvious fact that the cia is doing a coup I'm going to start giving You the heart attacks

💅 toxicbff

of course i saw the news how does that not prove my point further

the idea that all the police around the world could be mobilized by one single person is ridiculous (just look at this list of how many civilian militia there are globally)

heart attack victims don't seize the way "lind l tailor" did

i don't know how to tell you that You Can't Kill People Just By Knowing Their Name And Face because this is Real Life and not the newest grimdark marvel villain

people need to stop being scared of the ~bogeyman in the closet~ and wake up to the fact that usamerica is trying to take over the goddamned world

💅 toxicbff

im going to kill you all and nuke this website

#sayonara you weeaboo shits

2,925 notes

👾 lets-go-geeks Follow

DO TRUMP NEXT

🕵🏾‍♀️ penny-penelope Follow

LIKES TO CHARGE REBLOGS TO CAST

16,375 notes

❤️‍🔥 lovesickened Follow

i know its stupid but im so fucking scared for my brother i heard that seven people died this week at the prison he's in and iinjust dont kenow what to do ihate him for ehat he did to mom but i never wanted him to die

#vent tw #delete later

0 notes

🏎 fastandyurious Follow

if i get a single more comment about why i don't tag "genderbend" on my kiratective fics i'm going to blow up the entire building. we don't know EITHER of their genders. why don't YOU tag your mediocre yaoi genderbend instead

🔆 sparkling-world Follow

…OP, you realize the news reports all consistently use "he," right?

🏎 fastandyurious

of course i do???? just because you see something on the news doesn't mean you have to believe it?????? they don't have any information on kira yet but i'm supposed to believe the fbi knows their gender already??????? also kira is literally a fucking girl's name my classmate in elementary school was called kira

🔆 sparkling-world

Kira comes from the Japanese romanization for "killer," it isn't gendered whatsoever.

Also, evidence shows the majority of serial killers are male, so I'd argue that the statistics favor the fujoshis here.

🏎 fastandyurious

well evidence shows that female serial killers are just more fun to write about and I'd argue that you're ignoring my fucking POINT which is that we DON'T KNOW KIRA'S GENDER and if people don't want to read lesbian kiratective they can FUCK OFF MY BLOG

🥚 i-offer-eggman Follow

I offer you an Eggman in these trying times.

🔮 I-stands-for-le-gay Follow

@lashitpostcalligrapher yo can i get "the statistics favor the fujoshis" on my tombstone

#fandom: kira rpf #ship: kiral #never heard it called kiratective before… #also uh. prayer circle for op's classmate lmaoooo

2,107 notes

💃🏻 modelingmadness Follow

BOYCOTT EIGHTEEN MAGAZINE

THEY ALLOW KIRA-SUPPORTING MODELS AND ARE COMPLICIT IN THIS MASSACRE

SOURCES HERE AND HERE (TRIGGER WARNING: KIRA DISCUSSION)

PUSH BACK AGAINST HEART ATTACKS

🧚🏽‍♂️ harubaru Follow

golly gee ^_^ suddenly i feel like taking to the high seas in a way that the eighteen company cant get profit from. oh no ! who left this link here

🐦‍⬛ kuro--misa Follow

thanks for the link but jesus fucking christ man what happened to free speech. misa-misa's parents were killed by a burglar who kira punished. did you all expect her to just sit there, look pretty, and say nothing about it?

you people only like models when they're nice pictures for you to consume. you only like them two-dimensional and smiling and hot. the second a woman actually speaks her mind she's thrown to the wolves

💃🏻 modelingmadness

DID YOU NOT SEE MY BANNER YOU PIECE OF SHIT

#BLOCKED

140 notes

🐦‍⬛ kuro--misa Follow

lol. lmao even

#they blocked me but whatever #official eighteen site just said misamisa wont be in the next issue #(eighteen sucks but i kind of want to use it more out of spite now) #so much for apologism huh? #god. i feel sick. #hasn't she been through enough.

1 note

🥷🏻 kira-imagines Follow

Imagine you're going home after a long day. Suddenly there's a sound. "Huh? Whose there" you ask, dropping your keys on the floor. Then you feel it. A knife pressing in your neck.

"Don't move kitten" Kira purrs behind you. "You're all mine now…"

#kiraxreader #kiraxoc #kira #kira rpf #kira investigation #kira fucker #kira fudger #kira lover #kira haters dont touch #kira haters please touch #kira supporters please touch #l

5,733 notes

asahi-the-student-deactivated201

Hello, everyone! My little sister told me about this microblogging platform (I admit, I'm a Twitter refugee) and that many of you are discussing the Kira investigation on here. I'm really interested in hearing what your thoughts are!

💋 sunny-sayu Follow

let the record show he lasted like. a day

#i think it was the imagines that did him in #bro is so sensitive :p

15 notes

kiyomitakada

the world could be beautiful

[ @deathnotetober day 14: trigger ]

[the-great-io]

Hello! It's Lo. I am Juniper's moon.

I am growing tired, less hotheaded, tamed almost.

current status's;

Gender is private, just ask. (He/they/ask for neos)

Currently unlabeled queer, please give me some sexualities because you humans terms are so fucking weird

Single, fine with shipping

mentally 29

I hate people still, currently friends with @akitheastralwalker, @yeah-im-scorpio and my big brother, @king-of-death-ganyemede

interested in perfumes. I can smell ppl rlly well- don't be offended if I call you smelly its usually a compliment

(Pumkin made by @/pink-sugar. Tag list below cut)

@definitely-west-virginia

@the-ghostly-fake-gimmick-blog @definitely-not-a-woodcrawler @definitely-dione @yeah-im-scorpio @starry-unofficial

@officially-taurus @planet-of-cataclysm @the-real-uranus @the-republic-of-california-fr-fr @more-trans-beans @gimmick-irs

@gimmick-spy

@official-macula @enceladus-official @the-moon-called-cyst @the-luna-moon-of-earth @the-gimmick-lawyers @the-bites-you-anon

@stare-inc

@the-gimmick-judge @the-official-gemini @literally-leo @the-gimmick-criminal @gerald-of-the-pillow @the-gimmick-government

@the-real-planet-x @france-unofficial @non-tyrannical-usa @the-gimmick-authority @officially-triton @the-cult-of-the-neurodiverse

@officially-mimas

@the-gimmick-fbi @the-fake-catholic-church @truly-the-sun @the-red-planet-mars @actually-titan @mercury-the-swift

@the-gimmick-executioners

@the-archangels7 @the-greek-chorus @the-analyzer @the-gimmick-cia @iris-ghe @venus-for-real @vitreous-official

@local-pickpocket

@the-principality-of-sealand @gimmick-therapist @the-gimmick-detective @the-gimmick-police @the-gimmick-doctor @meatierbunger

@real-british-empire

@fake-news-real @thats-great-but-have-u-tried @wikipedia-the-non-official @yes-im-youtube-kids @official-time

[saccharinesatoru]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (preview)

Pairing: Gojo x reader (afab)

Genre: cowboy!gojo x bandit!reader + smut

Word count: uhh like 1.7k (haven't finished the full fic yet lmao we'll see what the wc gets to)

Summary: how does the strongest fare in the wild, wild West as the newest sheriff? we're about to find out!!

a/n: shout out to whoever made this fanart bc jesus fucking christ. i have more written for this fic so I'll post it in the next day or so I just wanted to give a preview lol this isn't proofread my apologies

xx Jay

---

You were fucked. And, fuck, did you know it. 

“You idiot!” you cursed, “Do you wanna die? How could you be so stupid?”

Your partner in crime (literally) turned to you with a crazed grin on his face, high on the rush. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared of some little sheriff.”

The sheriff, in question, is none other than Gojo Satoru. Not only was he the youngest sheriff in the region, but he was an incredible shot and phenomenal horseback rider. The man was known all throughout the west for his strength, wit, and impeccable skill as a marksman. And he just so happened to be the man hunting you down as you speak.  

“Am I scared? Am I scared?” you yell in disbelief, “Hell fucking yeah I’m scared! You just had to rob that bank, didn’t you? Toji, this is insane. We’re going to die, and it’s all because you wanted a little extra cash to blow at some saloon since you’re shit at cards and are always too drunk to make a reasonable gamble!”

His eyes widened at your statement, “I’m just down on my luck that’s all!” 

You roll your eyes and continue pacing around the small room, almost internally counting down the minutes until you're inevitably caught and thrown in a cell to rot. Maybe Toji could tough it out in jail (assuming he wasn’t hanged for his crimes), but you knew you weren’t cut out for that kind of life. It’s not like you meant to get caught up in this life, after all. A few bad decisions led to this nightmare of a reality, and now you were about to ride this sinking ship with the buffoon in front of you who was pushing 40 and still thought it was a good idea to devote the little cash he had on reckless gambling instead of caring for the adorable, perpetually scowling son he left behind to pursue a life of crime. 

“Don’t give me that look, doll,” his tone is sickly sweet but showing no real affection or warmth. “Don’t forget that you’re an accomplice in this crime too. Who was in the carriage waiting for me when I ran out of the bank with the cash, huh? Oh, that’s right! It was you!”

Running your fingers through your hair, you sit down and rest your head in your hands. “Don’t remind me, asshole,” you spit out, tone equally as harsh. “You think I wanted this? I didn’t know you were gonna do that shit! I owed you a favor- one favor, Toji! What, you think because I owed you one, I wanted to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for the most feared sheriff in the west? Believe it or not, but I don’t want to live this way!”

He huffs and sticks a cigar in his mouth, lighting it and letting out a puff of smoke before meeting your eyes again, “Well, tough shit, doll. This is the hand you were dealt, and now you’ve gotta decide whether or not you’re gonna fold.”

You roll your eyes, sensing a migraine coming on. “Shut the fuck up with your poker references, Toji. You’re not good enough at any card game to warrant that kind of talk.”

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You turn around and are about to rip into him when you hear the sound of incoming horses and a voice call out, “They’re just up ahead!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Toji curses as he puts out his cigar and stands up hastily. He looks around the room frantically and meets your eyes before darting out of the shared space.

“Fuck! Toji, come back!” you shout as you rush after him. You’re not all that well-versed on running from the police given you’ve literally never had a reason to do so. To say you’re relying on Toji to get you two out of this predicament is an understatement. After all, that man has committed more crimes than interacted with his own son. 

Running out of the room and following his footsteps, you exit out the backdoor. Your jaw drops to the ground at the sight in front of you. Toji’s sat on top of your very own horse, grabbing her by the reins and turning to you with a devilish smirk on his face. “Sorry, doll, I gotta cut ties here. ‘Can’t afford to get caught, you know? I’m sure you understand. Let me borrow your horse, yeah? I owe ya one.” 

You can’t even fully process his words, you’re seeing red with the amount of rage consuming you. Frozen in place, you watch Toji ride away on your horse, effectively abandoning the house that was about to be raided by police. 

Toji gets a fair distance away from the house before you hear the same voice yell, “There he is! You lot track him down. I’ll stay back and search the rest of the house. He had an accomplice. I’m sure they’re hiding out here somewhere.”

As soon as the man is done speaking, you hear multiple horses run off in Toji’s direction. You’re scared shitless of what’s to come. You just know the man about to search the house is the famous sheriff you had just been professing your fear of to that backstabbing bum who stole your fucking horse. Even though you know you’re thoroughly, laughably, undeniably fucked, you can’t help but laugh internally at the thought of Toji being captured by the sheriff’s men. You hope they don’t hurt your horse, although you doubt she’ll be yours much longer since you’re about to be sent off to jail. 

Cutting your losses and acknowledging defeat, you walk back into the house, ready to face the renowned sheriff. Walking back into the kitchen, your footsteps alert the man of your location, and he makes his way into the room. 

If you weren’t scared out of your mind at what’s to come, you might have started drooling, honestly. If this man weren’t known for his near superhuman abilities, he would have been known for his looks alone. You had never seen or even heard about a man that looked like him. He had bright white hair that peaked out from his hat. His skin was so fair and beautiful you swore he was made of porcelain. His lips were a pretty pink that somehow had a glimmering shine to them. He wore black denim with a black button up, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his large hands and delectable arm veins. For a reason unknown to you, he wore a blindfold over his eyes. You could only wonder what his eyes looked like, although you imagined they were as beautiful as the rest of him. 

He looked unreal. This whole situation felt unreal. You still hadn’t wrapped your head around the fact that you were about to be arrested let alone the fact that you were standing in a room with a man that looked like that.

“Well, well,” Gojo chuckles, “Here I was thinking Toji’s accomplice had to be some ugly brute with a tobacco addiction. But here you are instead.”

You rocked on the balls of your feet out of nerves, “I- I’m sorry to disappoint.”

He laughs fully this time. “And a sense of humor, too? What did Toji do to get you roped into this in the first place, huh?”

Your eyes widen slightly at this. It’s like he could see right through you. Was it that obvious that you didn’t live a life of crime? You suppose it’s times like this where your naturally expressive face and body language actually benefited you, as Gojo must have known about the true nature of your involvement just by the way you reacted to his presence. 

“I, um…” you tried to pick your words in a way that made you look the least guilty of committing a crime. “I only agreed to help him since I owed him a favor…”

This seemed to pique Gojo’s interest. “Oh? And what did the lying, deceitful, manipulative, gambling addict do to earn a favor from a pretty girl like you?”

Your face flushes when you process his words. Warranted and accurate insults about Toji aside, the human embodiment of perfection called you pretty. 

You must have been frozen in place for a second or two because when you blink again, Gojo is standing closer to you and leaning inward, “Are you with me, sweetheart?”

Eyes widening, you nod your head vigorously and elicit another chuckle from the man. 

“Well,” you sigh after being able to mentally calm yourself, “he helped my family in a tough situation. My mother was very sick, and Toji just so happened to have the proper remedies to heal her…”

Although you can’t see his eyes, you can tell that Gojo raises his eyebrows in curiosity, and his silence prompts you to continue.

“Believe me, I never wanted to help him out. Or, at least, when I agreed to help him, I had no idea he was gonna drag me into this mess. But I couldn’t just walk around my house and pass by my mother without thinking that, if it weren’t for that lunatic, she wouldn’t be with us anymore.”

Gojo hums and brings his hand to his chin as if in thought. “I bet your family would be pretty disappointed to see you now though, right? Doing all this for your mother is admirable, but you still committed a crime… What kind of sheriff would I be if I just let you off the hook because you told me some sob story and batted your eyelashes at me, hm?”

You didn’t know how to react to his words. Sure, he’s right, your family would be disappointed to see you in this position. You’d never gotten into any sort of trouble before- certainly never done anything illegal. 

“You thought you owed a simple favor, sure… But last time I checked, the pathway to heaven wasn’t paved with good intentions.” he tuts. “But jail time seems a little harsh, no? What do you think we can do to solve this little problem?”

Your heart is beating so hard that you wonder if Gojo could hear it from where he stood. “Please, I’ll do anything. I’ve never broken the law before, and I can’t afford to leave my family and go to jail.”

“Anything, huh?” Gojo smirked and pulled down his blindfold to reveal the most striking, beautiful eyes you have ever seen in all your life. “Well, how could I turn down an offer like that?”

---

i want him on me and in me I need him carnally I want him in my guts, so deep in me that I feel him in my throat okay bye I'll release the full fic soon lmao <3

[idontcare4urmom]

“Chris and Quen had some serious tension”, “the way Chris looked at her in the video is soo”, “Chris was trying..” NO.😭 i don’t wanna sound like an annoying Sturniolo police member but it’s annoying that they get shipped with every girl they hang out with.yeah they look good and match vibes but that’s just it.

if I was Chris I would stare at Quen like that too cause she is fucking gorgeous 😩 but that doesn’t mean that he has a crush on her!!

and then some of the fans go and complain by saying “aww bring Madi back“, “collab with Tara again“, “we want to see more Madison“ but this is literally why they don’t bring any of their famale friends to their videos anymore.cause many of the fans have to comment at every single detail they do or if they stare at them for some seconds like a normal human being!

even if Chris likes her is none of our bussiness,cause i have seen some paranoid people saying that he can't or some shit like that💀

idk that's all,argue with a wall if you don't agree with me

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 5: LIVE FOR A CENTURY, LEARN FOR A CENTURY

synopsis: you get hurt while chasing down another deviant. connor is introduced to your cat.

word count: 3.7k

ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader

notes: i literally got into the most minor car accident ever (like, not even a fender bender. no one got hurt) and i couldn't sleep because i felt so shitty so that's why i'm posting at this ungodly hour (read: 6:30 am) 😭😭

HoFS taglist: @catladyhere (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask!)

HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

The elevator shifts and jolts under your feet as it ascends. You catch yourself and splay a hand out on the wall to keep yourself from falling. 

“Fucking hate this,” you mumble. “Reminds me of the busted-up khrushchyovka I lived in just outside of St. Petersburg.”

“Was it in the ghetto?” Hank asks from the opposite side of the elevator.

“A slum, more like,” you say. “We don’t have ghettos. Not like here.”

You’re surprised Connor didn’t ask anything about the khrushchyovka. Instead, he’s just standing there, his eyes closed and idling.

The elevator dings, and you open the gate, letting you and Hank out. There isn’t a set of footsteps behind you as you walk. 

Hank stops in front of you, looking behind you. You follow Hank’s eyes. Connor’s still idling, his eyes still closed. 

“Hey, Connor!” Hank calls. “You run outta batteries or what?”

Connor’s eyes snap open, then he takes in his surroundings, realizing the elevator ride is over. “I’m sorry. I was making a report to CyberLife.”

“Huh,” Hank hums. Connor continues to idle. 

You smile. “Are you planning on staying in the elevator?”

“No!” He replies, almost indignant. “I’m coming.”

You laugh under your breath and turn to walk down the hall, not missing the look Hank gives you when he hears the emotion in Connor’s voice. 

Hank follows, looking at the chipped paint on the walls and the once-boarded-up windows. “What do we know about this guy?”

“Not much,” Connor says. “Just that a neighbor reported that he heard strange noises coming from this floor. Nobody’s supposed to be living here, but the neighbor said he saw a man hiding an LED under his cap.”

“Oh, Christ,” Hank groans. “If we have to investigate every time someone hears a strange noise, we’re gonna need more cops!”

You come to a stop outside of the door of the suspect’s apartment, double-checking the floor and apartment number. Hank stands beside you, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey, were you really making a report back there in the elevator?” Hank asks. “Just by closing your eyes?”

“Correct,” Connor says. 

“Shit…” Hank mumbles. “Wish I could do that.”

“You could, if you had augmentations,” you say as you look through the peephole. “Not my kind, though. Mine are relatively unintrusive. What I’m talking about is some extreme jack-jaw or port-wrist shit.”

“Whatever.” Hank huffs.

You pull away from the door and sigh. “The peephole’s blocked.”

Connor takes your place and knocks on the door. “Anybody home?”

No response.

He knocks harder, basically banging his fist against the wood. “Open up! Detroit Police!”

There’s sounds from inside. A banging, something falling, frantic footsteps.

Hank immediately takes a step back, drawing his gun. “Stay behind me.”

You backpedal, and Connor holds out an arm to gauge where you are. It brushes against your midsection, like he’s making sure you’re behind him and safe.

Hank hoists a leg and kicks the door down. He points his gun forward as he slowly moves inside, checking corners and doors. 

Connor follows him, and you trail after. Hank busts through the last door, causing a cascade of pigeons to fly out. 

“What the fuck is this?!” Hank shouts. 

You and Connor move after him, entering the apartment. The rank smell of uncleaned bird shit immediately assaults your senses, causing you to cough despite yourself.

“What in the…?” You look around the apartment. Precisely-drawn mazes cover the walls, and pigeons and their mess covers the floor. They hoo and purr amongst themselves, looking at you, Hank, and Connor like you were the ones who didn’t belong here.

“Looks like we came for nothin’,” Hank calls from the other room. “Our man’s gone.”

“Well, we came all this way,” you say. “Let’s at least have a look around.”

You step closer to the wall, looking up at the maze drawn on it. Your eyes trace it – it’s hexagonal, and doesn’t seem to have any exit.

“Any ideas?” Hank says. 

“No,” you say. “But he’s definitely an android. No human is this precise. There’s not even a wiggle in the lines or any stray marks.”

“I’ve found something,” Connor calls from the bathroom. 

You lean into the doorway. “What, did he leave an expensive shampoo or something? I’m running out.”

“No,” Connor says. He moves to the side, revealing the obsessive writing covering the wall. 

“rA9,” he continues. “Written 2471 times. It’s the same sign Ortiz’s android wrote on the shower wall. Why are they obsessed with this sign…?”

“Could be superstition,” you say. “Even if it seems a bit silly. My mother rejected my father’s proposal just because it was on the eighteenth of May – it’s simply bad luck to do any act of romance on the eighteenth of any month. She accepted the next day, just as the clock hit 12:01 AM.”

“Huh. That’s an odd thing to do.” Connor turns to the sink and picks something up. 

“It’s superstition. Sometimes it doesn’t make sense.” You shrug. “What’ve you got there?”

“An LED,” Connor says. “It was deactivated just hours ago.”

“So the suspect could’ve known we were coming,” you say. “Or knew he fucked up somehow.”

“Officer, you keep referring to androids with gendered pronouns,” Connor says. “You do know androids don’t have sexes, right?”

“I know.” You shrug. “It’s just hard to call something that walks, talks, acts like a human an it. It feels… dehumanizing. Even if they’re not human.”

You level with Connor’s almost-unblinking gaze. “I know what you’re thinking. But I’m not a sympathizer,” you lie.

You pull away from the doorway, instead looking across the apartment again. You join Hank in peering around, half-assedly investigating. A poster catches your eye – one for the United Farms of Detroit. It’s a union of some sort, you think. 

“You Soviets love your unions,” Hank says from somewhere behind you.

“After the Great Purge, we couldn’t take any chances.” You sigh, running a finger along the edge of the poster. “Stalin fucked up a lot of the USSR. But we bounced back. We always do.”

The poster flutters in the wake of your touch, and the corner curls in on itself. You gasp softly as a crack in the wall turns out to be a hole. 

You pull the poster off completely, revealing the hole in the wall in its entirety. A journal sits neatly, nestled right next to a small box of .357 Magnum bullets. You flick it open, and inside, is a myriad of jumbles and mirrors of the mazes drawn on the wall. 

“Found something?” Hank asks. 

“Bullets for a revolver,” you say. “And a journal, but… it’s encrypted.”

You feel a brush against your elbow – soft, but far too solid to be ignored. You gasp and turn, only to see Connor.

“Боже!” You put a hand on your chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“I apologize, Officer,” Connor says. “May I see the journal?”

“I, uh… yeah,” you manage to squeak out. You’d take a step back, but your back is basically half a foot away from being flush against the wall.

Connor takes the journal from your hands, flicking through it just as you did. He shows no signs of moving, so you squeeze past him, a nervous hand on his upper arm. 

“Sorry,” you whisper as you move past. You can feel your face warm as your front brushes his side and internally curse yourself for being so easily affected. 

“You’re right,” Connor says. “It doesn’t match any codes I have in my database. This is a unique script.”

He tucks the journal in one of his inner jacket pockets and turns to investigate the apartment further. You watch as his eyes turn to the ceiling. 

“Is that a hole in the ceiling?” You ask. “This place really is falling apart.”

Suddenly, something drops from the hole and sends Connor crashing to the floor. It takes a second to register that it’s a person – or, android, rather. By that time, he’s already run out through the front door. 

Connor immediately books it after the suspect, disappearing around the corner. You immediately take after them despite being slow and human.

“He might have a gun!” You call after Connor.

“It does!” He calls back. 

Sure enough, you can see a revolver in the android’s hand. He points back and takes a blind potshot that misses both of you entirely. 

You count in your mind: five bullets left. 

You run across the roof, through greenhouses and over scaffolding. All the while, you count the gunshots: four – three – two. 

You come to a screeching halt on the edge of a roof, just watching in shock as Connor jumps from a moving train to another roof. “Тво�� ж мать!”

“That way!” Hank calls from behind you, out of breath and panting. “The right!”

You break for the scaffolding that connects the two buildings, trying to get ahead. You cut through a building, legs burning as you take the stairs. You burst through the roof exit, and –

Another body immediately collides into yours, and you close your arms around it on instinct. They throw their head back, hitting your nose with a sickening crack. You grunt and your eyes water, but you don’t let go. 

What does make you let go is the shocking, electric feeling of something happening to your leg. Your ears ring and you can’t hear your own scream as you collapse, cradling your calf. 

You can feel your lips forming curses, feel your vocal cords vibrate as you sputter and cry out. A hand comes to your back, warm and rough and one you recognize as Hank’s.

You can just barely hear him say “Hands off, hands off!” and pull your hands away from the entry wound. You can only faintly translate his words in your mind, but you know every word that leaves your lips is Russian. Thirium spills out and Hank desperately tries to keep it in. 

Through your blurred vision, you can see Connor turn the corner. You point after where the deviant went, sputtering “Одна пуля! У него только одна пуля!”

He nods and disappears after him in a blur of moving limbs and blue highlights. 

You try to adjust your position to watch him, but a jolt of pain runs up your leg and into your spine. “Блять – Hank!”

“It’s okay, I got you, kid.” He takes a handkerchief from the inside of his jacket, bunching up your pant leg and tying a makeshift tourniquet. 

Another gunshot rings out, and there’s the sound of a body falling to the ground. You grab Hank’s hand, stammering out “Connor! See Connor!”

He understands your kind-of-broken English and moves to the edge of the roof, looking over the edge. “It’s okay. The deviant killed itself, not Connor.”

You slump down, your back hitting the hard concrete. You sigh and close your eyes. “Слава богу.”

Hank kneels by your side and gently jostles your shoulder. “How come you never told me you had a prosthetic?”

You open your eyes and look up at him, slightly delirious from shock. “Ты ж ненавидишь андроидов. You hate androids.”

“Yeah, but I don’t hate you,” Hank says. He pats your hand, then stands. “C’mon. Let’s get you up and movin’.”

You sit up and let him move you, supporting you with an arm around your middle. “You’re real fuckin’ stupid sometimes, y’know that?”

“I know, Lieutenant.”

“Officer, please,” Connor says. “I insist that I at least be present while you repair yourself.”

You reach up into the cabinet and push jars of pickling mushrooms and cucumbers aside to find your spare parts. “Connor, I’ll be okay. I was just in shock earlier, and my nose has already been set.”

You pull your toolbox down and start to lay out what you need on the breakfast table. “Besides, I have a cat. She’s somewhere around the apartment. Don’t you like dogs?”

“I can tolerate cats,” Connor says. 

You lay down a towel on the table, then sit and hoist your calf onto the towel. “Well, she probably won’t tolerate you.”

Connor pulls up a chair next to you, eyeing the damage to your leg. He pulls off his blazer and drapes it on the back of the chair, then rolls up his sleeves. “At least let me supervise the repairs.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “Supervise all you want.”

You pick up a soldering iron and switch on the heating component. You gently pry a piece of metal away from your prosthetic, then cut it loose with the iron.

“Your hands are shaking,” Connor says. 

“No, they’re not,” you snap. Then, you pause and realize that he’s right. “I… okay. What do you want me to do about it?”

“Let me do the repairs.” He leans an elbow on the table and leans closer to you. “I’m an android, so you can trust me to be perfectly precise. If I mess up, I promise I’ll let you take over.”

You sigh and hand over the soldering iron. Connor takes it in one hand and steadies your leg with the other. You breathe out slowly, shakily at the touch. 

To his credit, his movements are smooth and precise. All of his concentration is focused on what he’s doing right now. 

After a few minutes, you quietly ask, “Why are you doing this?”

“It would be…” Connor pauses. “Detrimental if you weren’t able to accompany me and Hank on further cases. Less-than-ideal repairs could possibly cause worse damage than what was there initially.”

“Right,” you say softly. 

“May I ask you a question, Officer?” Connor asks, still concentrating. 

“Yeah,” you say. “What is it?”

“You acted like you were in… pain when your prosthetic got shot,” Connor says. “Why was that?”

“Phantom limb phenomenon,” you say. “Everything happened too quickly. My brain remembered what it should be feeling. So it just replayed the… the memory of…”

You look away, out the window. You swallow thickly, suppressing your words. Connor doesn’t need to know this. “Nevermind.”

“The memory of what, Officer?” Connor prompts. 

“Nothing,” you say. “It’s nothing.”

You can see Connor glance at you out of the corner of your eye. He then looks away, instead focusing on the repairs. 

Your eyes catch a flicker of movement in the hallway. It’s a small head and two pointed ears, peeking out of the doorway to your bedroom. Two green eyes, dilated in the low light, blink slowly at you. 

“Бронислава,” you say softly. Her ears perk up in response to hearing her name.

“Bronislava?” Connor parrots. 

You point down the hall. “My cat. She’s shy.”

Connor lifts the soldering iron and looks over his shoulder. As soon as Bronislava registers his eyes on her, she darts back into the room. 

“She’ll come around,” you say. “She was the same way with Hank.”

Connor turns back to your calf. He’s nearly done with the internal work. 

“How are you so good at that?” You ask. “Have you done this before?”

“No,” Connor says. “I just have an intricate knowledge of android parts and biocomponents.”

“That inspires confidence,” you mumble.

Connor huffs out a laugh. “I heard that.”

You lean back in your chair and adjust yourself, your knee knocking against Connor’s. “No, you didn’t.”

You smile to yourself as you replay the sound of Connor’s under-the-breath laugh in your mind. It was nice, even if it only lasted for a second. A weird feeling settles in your chest, like there’s something wrong with your diaphragm. 

“Are you okay, Officer?” Connor asks. “I detect an elevated heart rate and increased rate of breathing.”

“I’m fine,” you lie. “Just excited to get my repairs done, is all. I’ve done this enough times to know you’re almost done with the internals.”

“Hm.” Connor hums, then continues his work. You take the opportunity to take in his bare arms – it’s a rare sight. There really isn’t anything out of the ordinary about his forearms, no scars or blemishes, but you still appreciate it. 

Connor breaks into your line of thought. “May I ask you another question?”

“Yeah?” You say.

“It’s about Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor says. “Why does he hate androids so much?”

You feel your stomach sink. You look away and sigh sharply. “I’m not at liberty to answer that question.”

Connor stays silent this time. You’re kind of thankful for that. 

Bronislava peeks her head out of the doorway again, her eyes on Connor. You smile to yourself as you hear the bell on her collar just barely jingle. “Don’t look now, but Бронислава is looking at you. She’s curious.”

“Why is she curious about me?” Connor asks. 

“I don’t bring a lot of people back to my apartment,” you say. “I try to keep my work life and private life as separate as possible.”

You lean down a little and tap at one of the legs of your chair, then snap your fingers and click your tongue. “Бронислава! Иди сюда, детка.”

She lets out a soft, sort-of meow and rubs her cheek against the doorway. You laugh and coo, snapping your fingers again. “Сюда, девочка!”

“Does she only respond to Russian?” Connor asks. 

“Mostly,” you say. “She just responds better than English. Maybe it’s the way my voice changes when I speak Russian.”

You glance over at Connor. “Do you… know Russian?”

“I have a built-in translator,” Connor says. “But I haven’t spoken Russian before.”

“Try,” you say. “Repeat after me: Бронислава! Сюда, девочка!”

“брани–бранислава,” he tries in a sing-song tone. “Сюда, девочка.”

No, he doesn’t roll his r’s or pronounce the words quite right, but it still sparks a bloom of warmth in your chest. You bite the inside of your lip to keep from smiling.

Bronislava peeks further out, her paws on the hardwood floor instead of the carpet of the bedroom she came from. Her bell sounds, soft and tinkling.

“She might like your voice,” you say. 

When you glance at Connor, he’s smiling. Then, you look down at your leg – he’s nearly done sealing the externals. The white plastic is slowly fading away, replaced by a wave of color matching your skin tone. 

“How much longer?” You ask.

“Twenty-seven seconds,” Connor responds.

You sit back and watch Bronislava tentatively sniff the air as Connor finishes up. Her whiskers twitch and her mouth opens as she takes in Connor’s new, intrusive smell.

Connor smoothes his hand over your leg. “I’m done.”

You shiver slightly at the contact and pull your leg away, instead drawing your knee to your chest and resting your foot on the chair. You take the towel and wipe your leg of spilled Thirium, then hand it to Connor so he can wipe his hands.

“Look at Бронислава,” you say softly. “But don’t make it obvious.”

Connor slowly cranes his neck, looking down the hallway out of the corner of his eye. His face lights up a little when Brotislava comes into his view.

“Ah,” he says. “I see her.”

As soon as Bronislava sees that Connor’s eyes are on her again, she retreats back to the safety of the bedroom. 

“Damn,” you huff. You stand, trying out Connor’s repair. You lean a little on it and put weight on it – it holds. 

You put a hand on Connor’s blazer. “Can I take this? To introduce her to your scent.”

“Go ahead,” Connor says.

You take his blazer and retreat to your bedroom. You find Bronislava under your bed, her eyes so dilated you can’t see her irises. 

“Эй, красотка,” you say softly. You snap your fingers with your free hand. “Это всего лишь я.”

She slowly creeps forward, sniffing the air. She smells the blazer in your hand, which is surprisingly soft despite its stiffness. (You’re tempted to mirror her and smell it, but you immediately mentally slap yourself and call yourself a creep, even though the thought didn’t actualize.)

“Видишь? Всё хорошо,” you say, still with that quiet, docile tone. “Это всего лишь Коннор.”

Bronislava slowly crawls out from underneath your bed, inching towards the exit to the hallway. You follow her, staying on her level.

“Connor!” You whisper-shout once you’re in the hallway, Bronislava by your side. “She’s coming towards you. But don’t look at her.”

“Okay, Officer,” Connor says. Even though he’s facing away from you, you can hear the smile in his voice. “What will she do?”

“She’ll probably sniff you,” you say, watching as she inches along, sticking close to the baseboards. “Don’t move a muscle once she does.”

Bronislava glances back at you. “Давай, детка!” You encourage. She turns around and looks at Connor’s back, then continues crawling forward.

“She’s approaching your six,” you say, your tone faux-serious. “Contact imminent.”

Connor laughs. “Acknowledged.”

Bronislava nervously sniffs at the legs of Connor’s chair, then moves on and sniffs at his ankles. 

“Her whiskers are tickling me,” Connor says. 

“Just don’t move!” You laugh.

Bronislava continues exploring, if with a bit of nervousness. She sniffs at the hem of Connor’s jeans, then bites at a loose string.

Then, Connor moves a fraction of an inch. It sets Bronislava off, and she dashes past you and back into the bedroom. 

You lean in the doorway, watching as she disappears under the bed again. “Ох, моя бедняжка… Всё в порядке.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor says. “I was just trying to scan her…”

“It’s okay.” You stand, his blazer still in hand. “She usually just hides around new people. I’m proud of her. And she does seem to like you.”

“She likes me?” Connor says, a bit of excitement in his tone. 

“You sound like a teenager.” You laugh and stand up. You walk over to the table and drape Connor’s blazer over the back of his chair. “Thanks for letting me borrow that, by the way.”

“Of course,” Connor says. 

You move to the side and start to pack your spare parts away in your little toolbox, mentally noting the things you need to replace.

“One more thing,” Connor says. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a prosthetic?”

Your hands still. “It…” you sigh. “I don’t like talking about it. That’s it. It didn’t pertain to the investigation, and you didn’t ask about it, so I didn’t mention it.”

Connor’s LED flickers yellow, then returns to a calm blue. “Understood.”