#the red face manifesto

[reddragdiva]

"Dimes Square" was a Thiel-funded attempt to make neoreaction hip with the youth. Every word out of it is the worst.

Honor Levy is the latest Dimes Square neoreactionary that The Cut did a puff piece on for unclear reasons. https://archive.is/SqSv5

Here's actual text from her actual fucking book. It's "Ready Player One" for race scientists. https://archive.is/WE3Nb

He was giving knight errant, organ-meat eater, Byronic hero, Haplogroup Rlb. She was giving damsel in distress, pill-popper pixie dream girl, Haplogroup K. He was in his fall of Rome era. She was serving sixth and final mass extinction event realness. His face was a marble statue. Her face was an anime waifu. They scrolled into each other. If they could have, they would have blushed, pink pixels on a screen. Monkey covering eyes emoji. Anime nosebleed GIF. Henlo frend. hiii.

The Cut piece just happens to mention how Levy interviewed Curtis Yarvin on her podcast

Brock Colyar at The Cut should know fucking better but shows no evidence of capacity for such

the NYT review: "There is an interesting sense here of young people brought up amid a war — a cultural one." you can tell this guy's been saving that line for a special occasion

filing Levy high on the list of Thiel's crimes

[greengoblinswifey]

Reunited— Luigi Mangione x Fem!Reader

summary— You’re reunited with your boyfriend luigi and he shows you just how much he missed you.

warnings— fingering, slight voyeurism, oral(f!receiving) praise kink, bit of crying but luigi comforts you, L bombs, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, fluff.

a/n— originally posted on my ao3, where there’s another luigi fic <3 FREE MY MF MAN!

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Luigi Mangione was not just another face in the crowd, he was a polarizing figure. He gained national attention after allegedly carrying out a calculated act of vengeance against a corrupt CEO you couldn’t care less about. He claimed his actions were a response to widespread exploitation and inequality in the healthcare system and you were 100% on board.

After leaving behind a manifesto that exposed systemic greed and corruption, he disappeared, sparking an instant nationwide search. Supporters hailed him as a modern day vigilante, while detractors condemned him as a criminal. You were by his side through it all, not only as his girlfriend but as his confidant and staunchest ally.

You had met Luigi three years ago at a charity gala. While his presence was understated, his charisma was undeniable. You had a passion for uncovering the truth and you were drawn to his fiery intellect and his conviction to make a difference. When he confided in you about his disillusionment with the corporate world and his dream to spark real change, you stood by him, even as the risks escalated.

When the authorities finally caught him, it shattered your world. Luigi was supposed to be halfway across the country by then, safe and untouchable. But fate had other plans.

After days of navigating legal hurdles, your boyfriend was granted bail thanks to the efforts of the legal team you assembled and the donations pouring in from his legion of supporters. The day you picked him up from jail was a whirlwind of emotions. Crowds of people gathered outside the facility, holding signs and chanting his name. The media swarmed like vultures, cameras flashing as Luigi emerged, his posture unyielding despite the chaos.

The car was parked a block away, avoiding the thick of the chaos. As he stepped out, the crowd screamed. He lifted his hand in acknowledgment, his voice cutting through the noise.

“Read the manifesto,” he said, his tone commanding yet calm. “The answers you seek are in there.”

The crowd erupted, some cheering, others debating. But Luigi didn’t linger. He moved toward you, his gaze softening the moment he saw you waiting.

The lawyer drove the two of you to a safe house on the outskirts of the city. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, noticing the tension in his shoulders and the faint bruising along his jawline.

“Baby, did they hurt you?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He exhaled, brushing your concern aside. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’m just angry they didn’t let me speak.”

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “They’ll hear you soon enough. You’ve already started something they can’t ignore.”

His eyes softened as he turned to you. “I missed you,” he murmured, his hand finding your thigh. “Every damn second I was in that shithole.”

You smiled, leaning closer. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

He kissed you deeply, his hand tightening its grip. “You’ve been my anchor through all of this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The car ride felt impossibly long as the reality of the situation weighed down on you. You kept glancing at Luigi, his sharp profile shown by the fleeting city lights. Despite the calm mask he wore, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

You reached over, your fingers brushing his arm. “I was so scared for you,” you whispered, your voice breaking. Tears began to spill before you could stop them.

Luigi turned to you immediately, his expression softening. “Don’t cry, amore. I’m here now,” he murmured, pulling you closer. He pressed a series of tender kisses to your cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

“It’s just so unfair,” you choked out. “The media, the critics—they don’t know you like I do. You’re not some monster. You’re brave, kind, and caring. You only wanted to help people.”

He cupped your face, his gaze locking with yours. “Let them say what they want. I don’t need their approval. I have you, and that’s all I care about.”

You leaned into him, his words wrapping around your heart like a balm. “I just don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” he promised, his voice low and steady. “No one can keep me from you.”

As the car drove deeper into the night, Luigi’s hand found its way to your thigh, his touch warm against your skin. He glanced down at your dress, his lips curving into a sly smile.

“You look so sexy in this,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. “Did you wear it for me?”

“Yes,” you admitted, heat rushing to your face.

He chuckled softly, his fingers tracing circles on your thigh. “Good. Because it’s driving me crazy.”

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your neck. You shivered as he placed a trail of slow kisses along your skin. “You smell amazing,” he murmured against you.

His hand slid higher, and when his fingers brushed your bare pussy, he froze for a moment before letting out a low, appreciative moan. “You’re not wearing anything underneath?” he asked.

You shook your head, your breath hitching.

“Naughty girl,” he whispered, his voice laced with both amusement and desire. His fingers trailed to your clit, the heat of his touch making you bite your lip to keep from making a sound.

“Luigi,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both anticipation and the need for discretion.

“Shh, amore,” he said, his lips still pressed to your neck. “Be good for me. Stay quiet.”

His fingers moved with purpose, his slow circles on your clit sending your nerves into a frenzy. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “I missed this, missed you.”

The car hit a bump, jolting you both, and you bit back a gasp as he slipped a finger into you immediately, your hand gripping his arm tightly.

Up front, the lawyer cleared his throat, oblivious. “Almost there,” he said.

Luigi smirked, his fingers still working their magic. “Good. But not soon enough,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear as he praised you softly.

His touch became more deliberate, his fingers moving in a way that left you struggling to suppress your reactions. His gaze flicked up to yours, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“You’re doing so well for me, amore,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I can feel how much you missed me from how wet you are.”

Your breath hitched as he praised you, his movements precise and slow, building that feeling inside. He kissed the side of your neck again, murmuring against your skin, “I love seeing you like this, knowing I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, biting to suppress your moans as his fingers curled inside you with his thumb rubbing your clit.

“I can’t—” you breathed, biting your lip to quiet yourself as your orgasm built.

“Cum for me, beautiful,” he whispered, speeding up his movements.

You bit onto his shoulder, using your other hand to pull him onto you as your orgasm ripped through you like a knife. You really hoped the seats weren’t messy.

The car slowed as it neared the safe house, and Luigi reluctantly withdrew his hand, his eyes dark with unspoken promises. “Just wait til’ we’re inside,” he said softly, his fingers brushing your chin as he gave you a quick, knowing smile.

His lawyer parked the car in front of the nondescript safe house, stepping out to hold the door for both of you. Luigi exited first, straightening his suit jacket before reaching for your hand. “Thank you,” he said curtly to the lawyer, who nodded and drove off into the night.

The moment you were inside, Luigi shut the door, locking it and turned to you, his expression filled with an intensity that took your breath away.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice rough as he pulled you close. His hands framed your face as he kissed you deeply, his body pressing you back against the nearest wall.

“Lui—,” you whispered, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that made your knees weak.

“You’re mine,” he said firmly, his voice filled with both affection and possessiveness.

His hands roamed down your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you even closer. “I’m going to remind you how much I missed you,” he said, his voice a mix of promise and passion.

Luigi carried you effortlessly, his strong arms wrapping you in the warmth of safety as he navigated the unfamiliar safe house. He gently kicked open the door to what you assumed was the bedroom, setting you down on the soft mattress. His touch was soft, fingers lingering on your shoulders as he slid your straps off, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he was seeing you for the first time.

“Do you have any idea how much I missed you?” he murmured, his voice filled with longing.

Your response was barely a whisper. “I’ve thought about you every second.”

He tilted your chin upward, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that deepened with every passing moment. As he undid the zipper of your dress, his movements were deliberate yet gentle. The fabric pooled at your feet, and his breath hitched slightly as his gaze took your naked body in.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his tone awestruck. His fingers threaded through your braids, tugging softly as he kissed you again, his lips tracing a path down your jawline and neck.

Your hands instinctively found his curls, tangling in them as he lowered himself to his knees before you. “Baby,” you whispered, the emotion in your voice evident.

“Shh,” he replied softly, his lips brushing your skin. “I need to take care of you first. Tell me how much you missed me.”

“I missed you so much,” you said, voice trembling with emotion. “I love you, Luigi.”

“I love you more than anything. Let me show you just how much,” he replied.

His hands caressed your thighs, his lips trailing kisses down your skin. His touch was reverent, almost as if he were worshiping every inch of you, his deep brown eyes gazing up with adoration.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice soft yet full of conviction. “Every part of you.”

His lips pressed against your pelvis, leaving a trail of warmth and affection that sent a shiver through your body. Each kiss was slow and deliberate, his presence grounding you even as your heartbeat quickened.

“Luigi,” you breathed, your voice trembling with emotion and pleasure. Your hand instinctively reached for his curls, tangling in them as he smiled against your pussy.

“Let me take care of you,” he said. “You’ve been so good for me—so patient, so strong.”

Your head tilted back, overwhelmed by the sensation of his devotion. His praises washed over you like a balm, soothing the ache of the days you’d spent apart.

His tongue moved with precision, licking your clit as he used his fingers to spread your juices across your hole. A gasp left your lips as he moved down, slipping his tongue inside your pussy then continuing his movements on your clit.

“You’re everything to me,” he continued, his hands gently gripping your hips as he sucked your clit. “I don’t deserve how good you’ve been throughout this, but I’ll spend my life proving how much I love you.”

His voice alone sent a rush of warmth through you, every syllable filled with sincerity. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as your emotions surged.

Luigi’s lips curved into a small smile. “You’re too good to me, but I’ll never take it for granted.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell. Every touch, every flick of his tongue was a promise that he would always cherish you, protect you.

He didn’t rush a single movement, cherishing the connection between you. You cried out as you gripped his curls tighter, your orgasm threatening to spill over.

“God baby, I can feel you clamping around my tongue, it’s okay, you can cum for me,” he urged.

With his name on your lips like a prayer, you trembled as you squirted on his tongue. He slurped your juices, guiding you through your high and savoring your taste.

When he finally finished and stood up, his arms pulled you close, cradling you as if shielding you from the world. “You’re my everything,” he whispered. “I’ll never let anything happen to us. I promise you that.”

Your hand rested on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I believe you,” you said softly.

He smiled, brushing a strand of your braids from your face. “Good.”

Luigi’s chuckled as you gently ran your fingers along his chest, stripping him off his clothes then pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed. His dark eyes glimmered with warmth, his hands lightly brushing against your waist.

“You’ve done so much for me,” you murmured, leaning closer, your voice low but full of intent. “Now it’s my turn to show you how much I’ve missed you.”

His gaze softened, his hands sliding to your wrists as if to stop you. “You don’t have to do anything, amore,” he said, his voice tender. “Just having you here, holding you, it’s enough.”

You pouted but decided not to be a brat this once. “Whatever you say baby, anything you want.”

Luigi sat back, his strong arms pulling you onto him as if he couldn’t bear even a second without your closeness. He settled you against his chest, your bodies perfectly aligned, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear. “So obedient,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple before moving to your forehead for a lingering kiss.

He tilted your chin up gently, his dark eyes locking with yours. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. “I need to hear you say it.”

You nodded, your breath catching. “I’ve been craving this—craving you—this whole time,” you whispered, your words trembling with sincerity.

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips met yours in a deep kiss, one that spoke of everything unspoken, the longing, the love, the relief of being together again. His hands caressed your ass, grounding you as he shifted beneath you.

He paused, his movements deliberate, as he guided his cock against your pussy. “Slowly, baby,” he murmured, his hands firm but gentle on your hips. “I want you to feel every inch of me.”

A gasp escaped your lips as he sank deep inside you, your body adjusting to the slow, deliberate rhythm he set. “That’s it,” he praised, his voice rough with restrained need. “You’re perfect—so tight, so ready for me.”

Your nails dug lightly into his chest as the intensity built, his words spurring you on. “You can take it, baby,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your collarbone. “You’re so incredible.”

Luigi's praises, whispered against your skin, grounded you in the moment. “You feel like heaven, amore,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he kissed you again, swallowing your soft cries.

Luigi’s grip on your hips tightened, as he guided you into a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each thrust was purposeful, his body rising to meet yours. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jawline. “You’re so perfect. I’ve missed you more than you can imagine.”

You clung to him, your fingers tangling in his curls as he set a steady pace. Every thrust was measured, filling you and making your breath hitch. “You’re taking me so well,” he whispered, his voice breaking with restrained emotion. “I can feel how much you’ve missed me.”

Your head tilted back, exposing your throat as his lips pressed against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses that make you shiver. “Luigi,” you gasped, your voice trembling.

“Shh, amore,” he soothed, his hands running up and down your spine as he adjusted the angle slightly, his cock moving inside your wet pussy deliberate and controlled. “Let me take care of you. Just feel me.”

His thrusts deepened, his hips rolling in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his dark eyes locked on yours, filled with unspoken affection and need. “So perfect for me.”

“Lu— I’m gonna cum,” you cried, your fingers gripping his hair tighter.

“I know baby, do it for me, cum on my cock,” he muttered.

Your body convulsed on top of him, your breath catching in your throat as your orgasm hit you like a truck. He continued thrusting inside you, guiding you through the intensity of the moment.

Without missing a beat, he flipped you so that he was on top of you, his cock still inside you. His soft lips came down onto your tits, swirling his tongue around your nipples as soft whimpers left you. You tried to grip onto him but he pinned your arms above your head, leaving you completely at his mercy.

He thrusted into you deeply, your body jolting upwards as you cried out.

“Oh, fuck, that feels amazing,” you moaned, feeling him continuously brush that sweet spot inside you.

He went faster at your praises, his hips snapping to meet yours. “God, you’re so wet for me, beautiful.”

His large hands gripped your waist, slamming you onto his thick cock. His hand then moved to your lower abdomen, pressing against the outline of his cock moving inside you.

“Feel me baby? Feel how deep I am inside you?” he murmured, pressing on your abdomen and slamming into you.

“S-so deep,” you whimpered.

He reached down to rub your clit, feeling your pussy flutter around him as his pace never faltered.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby, I know you are too. I’m gonna cum deep inside you, gonna breed this pretty fucking pussy,” he said.

You wrapped your legs around him, grinding against him. “That’s my good girl, trap me in baby, cum with me while I fuck a baby into you.”

His words sent you over the edge and you moaned his name as you felt his hot load spurt deep inside you. “Take it, take it, take it, beautiful,” he gasped, fucking you as ropes of his cum spurted inside you.

You babbled incoherent words, shivering under him as the intensity of the moment was almost too much.

“Now, when you get pregnant, you’ll always have a piece of me,” he cooed. He stayed buried inside you, relishing in the warmth and wetness of your pussy.

Luigi gently pulled out of you, his hands steady as he helped you shift. His concern for you was immediate, his touch soft as he carefully helped you to your feet. “Let’s take care of you,” he whispered, his voice filled with care. He guided you to the bath, his eyes never leaving you, as if making sure you were okay, every part of you.

He settled behind you in the large, warm tub, the water soothing as he wrapped his arms around you, his chest against your back. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body surround you, as he gently massaged the soap across your skin. His hands were steady and comforting, washing away the physical remnants of the day, but it was more than that—he was taking care of you in every way, his touch full of tenderness and love.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, kissing the back of your neck softly. “I promise, I won’t let them take me away again. We’ll fight this, together.”

You closed your eyes, your heart swelling with emotion as you leaned back against him. His hands gently cupped your face, turning you to look at him. “I really hope so,” you whispered, the fear from earlier still lingering, but his presence grounding you. “I’ll always be by your side, Luigi. No matter what happens.”

He smiled, a soft, knowing smile that reached his eyes. “I know,” he whispered, his voice full of reassurance. “And I’ll never let you go.”

As the warm water surrounded you both, the world outside seemed so far away. All that mattered was the two of you, in that moment, connected in a way that nothing could tear apart.

[aplaceforhumancorpses]

ᰔ・︴ Jason is cold ｡°✧

𝜗𝜚 Genre: Smut 𝜗𝜚 Warnings: nsfw, mentions of female anatomy 𝜗𝜚 Jason Todd x Iceberg lounge waitress 𝜗𝜚 PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REQUESTS 𝜗𝜚 Pussy eater Jason Brainrot -----------------------------------------------------------------------

𝜗𝜚 You're responsible for your own media consumption :)

Winter is cold, but Jason is colder. You thought you two had made notable progress. Maybe that was just wishful thinking. You had helped him before in a heated interrogation about some high profile criminal. In which he stood over you. Donning the sleek armor, helmet, and hood. Sharp jagged edges of his words, accusatory and calculated. He never touched you in those 6 minutes. Never raised a hand at you. A few words was enough to make you spill. To make you spill information you were not aware was stored in your brain. From then on you were his preferred server. His little spy who delivered everything he wanted to know. You sought his praise, you learned what he needed.

The clientele phased in and out. You brought out plates of caviar and daiquiris with olives and offered kind smiles and an ear to listen to the Gotham elite's rants about criminal life. Their troubles were yours too when they tipped you rent money for the week. You listened with an eye to their wallets.

That was a waitress's manifesto. Hospitality is an art form.

And so, when you saw the Red Hood that bleak night, all you could do was nod politely at him as he slid into a booth. He was a large man, he dwarfed the plush corner table that was supposed to provide privacy. You swerved in between servers. Dodging plates with drinks balancing delicately on them. You approached his table, sliding him a menu from under your arm.

"Hi there," You nodded curtly at him as you set the menu on the table. "Can I get any drinks started for you?" Your eyes glanced back to his face. He was watching you intently, like a shark scenting blood.

"I'll just have an old fashioned. Thanks."

You mentally jotted it down. It was common practice to memorize orders. professionalism was a highly respectable talent, especially in such a large venue. You moved off toward another group. A few tables away you noticed that he had not taken off his helmet or mask. But, his eyes kept following your every move until you disappeared into the crowd.

The slits of his eyes disturbed you the most. The mask dehumanized him. It was like talking to an unfeeling machine. The way he observed, how he held himself. A machine. There was no warmth in his eyes. You watched his fingers twitch, and the knuckles go white as his hands flexed around the curve of the table. He was capable of breaking someone like a Barbie doll.

When you returned with his beverage you set it down on a coaster, a bit of liquid splashing over the edge of the glass.

"Gonna take a few cents off for that?" He asked. Maybe it was a cruel attempt at humor. You didn't smile, still debating on his sincerity. Your eyes widened slightly and he chuckled beneath the breath. Like he knew what you were doing, panicking internally. You tried again, offering him a pleasant expression, "Apologies, Sir." You said. You waited for him to say something further, anything that indicated he would talk to you, but his eyes stayed on your own. He watched you silently until the silence got to be too much.

"They've got you trained like a dog."

"Sorry?…" You were staggered at the comparison but you tried to play along. "Like a dog," he repeated, "trained to obey orders. You're a yes woman for Gotham's Illuminati." He mocked. His fingers fidgeted, the gloves on his right hand slipping slightly.

"Well, I enjoy my work.." And now you had his full attention, looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to elaborate. "I've met a lot of interesting people."

"Honesty, If you would." He cut you off abruptly. He seemed amused by your answer. You took a deep breath and spoke.

"While it is… stressing," You admitted. You wanted to tell him that you had been through more stress than the average college student, and you had also faced far more threats than Gotham's most notorious mobsters, "it's nice knowing the ins and outs of it all." His lips quirked up slightly at this admission. But his attention turned to the rest of the restaurant. The diners seemed oblivious to your conversation, the noise drowned out by the music. No one seemed interested in what you had to say, save for the occasional patron who had heard the comment.

The Red Hood tilted his head towards the bar where a bartender was mixing cocktails. They looked delicious and colorful even as the light reflected off the glass surface. "Let me see if I can make you feel better." He rose gracefully from his seat and made his way towards the bar, taking care not to step on anyone as he passed. You followed him.

"Oh I can't drink on the job-" You began.

"Then don't. This will only last 5 minutes." He interrupted, waving off your protest. You followed to the bathrooms behind him, Hood entering first. After a few seconds, he came back and gestured you inside. Inside was a small area, dimly lit but clean and modern. With sinks that looked more like counters. On the opposite wall there were mirrors. Hood motioned at the counter. Not getting the message he grabbed you by your waist, pulling you forward and hoisting you onto the cold marble. You squeaked, your thighs sliding against the smooth surface as you landed on your ass. When you caught your balance, Hood was already moving across your thighs, his hands reaching into your pants. Your mouth went dry as you stared. He yanked at your zipper, your body jerking in surprise. You gasped, as you watched the black fabric slide downwards. Hood pulled off the slacks and threw them into one of the sinks.

He pushed his thumb into your underwear, pulling roughly at the cloth. "wait--" you managed to mutter between gasps. "H-Hold on. The.. um- door." You stalled.

"Locked tight. I checked." He assured you. A smirk twitched at the corner of his lips. He dropped down to one knee, spreading your thighs farther apart as he pulled the masked down, shielding his lower half from view as his mouth was buried in your cunt. His tongue flicked out, tasting your wetness as he worked you open, gliding deeper each time. You whimpered as he nipped at your clit gently, tugging the sensitive flesh in the process.

"Oh god… this is so- a lot.. so much-"

You squirmed in embarrassment. He smirked at you as you struggled to find some sort of control. He continued to flick his tongue against your clit, making you pulse against the leather of his glove. A warm wet spot formed in his palm. Hood paused, licking his lips as he eyed your pussy hungrily. "I thought I was overworked.." He murmured. His thumb traced a line down your inner thigh until he reached the apex of your thighs. You arched up towards his mouth. You were panting now, "You seem tired."

"Mmm.." you mumbled and you could hear the grin in his voice

"Can't fuck you to sleep, not unless you clock out early." He teased, using his other hand to hold your hips tightly. "Call this a private service."

You nodded. As his tongue lapped at your pussy again you felt a rush of desire shoot up your spine, a shudder coursing through you. He pressed his face against the moist heat, letting out a groan. He slipped two gloved fingers inside you slowly as you moaned. You arched your pelvis into his touch. One of his hands slipped free from your thighs, resting over your knee, pushing them apart. You felt hot and feverish, sweat dotting your forehead, making your hair damp and sticking to your skin.

"should be paying me." He mumbled against your pussy, vibrations thrumming from his lips. He thrust one finger deeply into you. It sank all the way to the hilt before he withdrew it. You cried his name. That was all it took for you to lose the control you had over yourself. All of a sudden you couldn't think straight. All of a sudden you felt your muscles spasm as orgasm slammed through you in waves. You gasped loudly as you rode out your climax, your whole body shaking. Your legs fell open, allowing his nose to poke at your clitt. It felt slick with spit and your juices. He rubbed it against your folds, leaving a trail that tickled your sensitive tissue. You moaned quietly as he lapped up the salty moisture dripping down your folds and thighs. He licked at his finger before wiping it across his lips.

"There we are~." He purred. You shivered as his fingers stroked over your sex.

Reblong + Like if you got this far or Jason dies again

[handweavers]

"Those who point to the lumpenproletariat as the revolutionary vanguard disregard the objective laws of historical development. In pre-capitalist societies, poverty and oppression were even greater than under capitalism. But oppression in itself, no matter how great, does not create the basis for the struggle to abolish oppression.

Because of the specific nature of exploitation under capitalism, the working class, which collectively operates the mass production process of the privately owned monopolies, is transformed into the gravedigger of the system. That is why Marx and Engels wrote in The Communist Manifesto: “Of all the classes that stand face to face with the bourgeoisie today, the proletariat alone is a really revolutionary class.”

No fundamental change—or even a challenge to the monopolists—can occur without the working class. And today the proportion of Black workers in basic industries such as steel, coal, auto, transport and others is transforming the prospects for the class struggle and Black liberation.

The degree of exploitation of Black workers is clearly much greater than that of white workers. Nevertheless, the collective form of exploitation in the decisive mass production industries is suffered by all workers. This creates the objective basis for solidarity, for their unity and leadership in the struggle against the monopolist ruling class.

At the same time, history has assigned a doubly significant role to Black workers—as the leaders and backbone of the Black liberation movement, and as a decisive component of the working class leadership of the anti-imperialist struggle as a whole.

It is the monopolists’ fear of Black, white, Brown, Yellow, Red and working class unity, which in turn can form the basis for still broader people’s unity, that is behind racism and anti-Communism, the main ideological weapons of the ruling class.

Leninism, the Marxism of the imperialist epoch, is the ideological weapon of the working class. It is the scientific guide that enables the working class to combine its struggle with national liberation movements against imperialism.

No other theory has served to free a single working class, a single people, from imperialism anywhere in the world. Beginning with the October revolution, only those guided by Marxism-Leninism have been able to free themselves from class and national oppression and take the road of socialist construction."

— "Objective Laws of Development" Henry Winston, The Crisis of the Black Panther Party (1971)

[thedreadvampy]

best will in the world why would the leopards want to be into reforming the electoral system that can only ever end up with leopards getting to eat at least an amount of face?

(a clue to this is that half the "leopards chewing on you" candidates have recently jumped ship from the supposedly electorally doomed "leopards eat your face" party because the "chewing" party platform is increasingly "leopards chewing your face quite hard and maybe they swallow some chunks, and we threw out everyone who suggested maybe we should dial it back to leopards licking your face")

frankly nobody is less likely to be into electoral reform than new labour, unless it's the tories, but given that they're the only 2 parties which have stood to benefit from FPTP in the last 140 years or something, you know, why WOULD they?

quick unscientific poll for my own interest

[a-very-tired-jew]

The very peaceful protests and their very peaceful actions. I previously posted about how the Columbia SJP has an infographic on terrorist groups and uses language justifying and endorsing their actions. Well here is the UCSC SJP's Instagram.

Fig. 1. Depicts a police car that was damaged by an IED on June 1st at the UCSC student Palestine protests.

Listen, I'm as ACAB as the next person. Hell, I'm an independent forensic consultant. I get to see first hand the fuckery that goes down when I get called in, regardless of what side I'm on. But this? This action here on the official UCSC SJP Instagram page? That is employing the same methods that recognized terrorist groups have used around the world. Jews have said for months that these "peaceful" protests were on track to becoming violent. When you shout and endorse the same rhetoric as terrorist groups that have repeatedly stated they want to kill Jews there is the eventuality that you will start using their same violent tactics. We've already seen these student protesters engage in the same behavior as Nazis by preventing Jewish students and faculty from attending their classes and buildings. We've seen them spit on us, threaten us, shout vile insults, attack us, and attempt to burn down / bomb / destroy our places of worship and business, and we have repeatedly said that it will get worse. Well here it is. Once you start trying to blow up vehicles in the street you're too far gone to call yourself peaceful protesters anymore, you’ve become terrorists. Plain and simple. And guess what? The picture on their Instagram has a descript that is equally chilling.

Fig. 2. Is a message that is attached to the photo in Fig. 1. and includes language that emphasizes violence and terrorist actions. This reads like a manifesto that is attempting to garner support from minority populations here in the USA by appealing to the issues they face. However, the language they are using is a giant warning klaxon because it undermines the actual severity of what these groups face by couching it within the ProPal Western Activist lexicon. Many people, myself included as a death expert, have pointed out that the term genocide as applied to the conflict is improper and does not meet the criteria. That doesn't stop these protesters from using it to appeal to emotion and attempt to guilt others into supporting their cause. It's clearly an attempt to gather support and drive others to violence. Nothing in here says that these are peaceful protesters. They are ready to lay down their lives for the Cause™ in a violent manner.

Glorifying martyrdom.

Red flag.

Death to amerikkka.

Red flag.

Knife to the throat of zionism.

Red flag. You already complained about the more benign Finding Out portion of employers flagging certain degrees from specific universities and wanting to know if their possible employee is an antisemite. The Finding Out portion of actually planting IEDs is much, much worse. At a certain point people will have to accept that the SJP/PSC system blatantly endorses and justifies violent terrorism. This is what Globalize the Intifada means. It means engaging in the same violent acts of the Second Intifada. It's a call to engage in violent terrorism. But ya'll don't want to accept that, regardless of how many times it's pointed out.

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: keep it quiet | ktr

summary | after an encounter with your best friend’s brother in the middle of the night, you can’t help but falling in love with him—and, perhaps he can’t help falling in love with you, too.

genre | kim taerae x fem!reader, university!au (but over the summer), best friend’s brother!au, y/n is an international student from the united states (sorry for all non usa people)

warnings | alcohol, i plagiarized business proposal, mentions of sex but not explicit

wc | 3.6k

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAERAE!!!!! i’ve always felt like he was so best friend’s brother (+ hanbin is brother’s best friend in case u were wondering) so here’s my best friend’s brother taerae manifesto (@taerrrrrae asked to be tagged)

ft. kep1 members (dayeon is taerae’s sister), billlie members, lsfm members

i. silencieux

The moment you wake up, your head is spinning and you know you’re not drunk enough to throw up, but you sure feel like you’re going to. Kazuha is asleep with her head on your stomach, and you don’t remember when she ended up there (when you fell asleep, you know she was still playing Monopoly in the living room). To your right, Dayeon is asleep face down on the floor, snoring loudly, and to your left, Sheon and Tsuki had made it up to Dayeon’s bed.

The room is dark, which is disorienting, given you fell asleep when the fluorescent overhead light was still on. As best as you could, you removed Kazuha’s head from your stomach, trying to push yourself up off the floor. A glance at Dayeon’s Hello Kitty-themed, digital clock tells you that it’s 4:34 in the morning, which means you slept for around five-and-a-half hours.

During that time, you’d slept off a lot of the alcohol, but you were still feeling slightly buzzed—the buzz wasn’t enough to keep the hangover away, though. You must’ve drank your weight in vodka, which was not good for you, but Kazuha had insisted on you showing them what an American college kid party was like. And, since you’d been to a single frat party during your senior year of high school, you’d been able to pull it off to an extent (you ordered red solo cups and called it a day).

Deciding you needed to drink some water, you stumbled over Dayeon and emerged out into the hallway, nearly knocking into the wall as you did so. The house was empty as far as you were aware—her parents had gone on vacation, which was why you’d been able to drink all day in the first place. According to Dayeon, though, her older brother was supposedly getting home that night.

You assumed he would probably be asleep by now, so you continued on your conquest to the kitchen, practically falling down the stairs because you didn’t turn the light on. But, once you made it to the bottom, there was nothing in between you and getting your water.

Except for a boy sitting at the island in the kitchen, a mug in one hand and a phone in the other. He’d dimmed the lights in the room, which you didn’t know could happen, and he was blissfully unaware of your presence. At that moment, you registered the quiet sound of bossa nova playing as well, which meant he probably hadn’t heard you stumbling down the stairs.

You froze the moment you saw him, immediately weighing your options—you could either go back upstairs and search for water in Dayeon’s room (or just drink from the tap, which you didn’t want to do but would sacrifice if need be) or you sucked up the anxiety and got a huge cup of ice water.

You didn’t have time to decide, because he turned his head towards you, seemingly confused as to why you’d stopped. “Oh, I thought you were Dayeon,” he said, and you practically swooned.

You didn’t know Dayeon’s brother was point-blank beautiful. His voice was deep too, and you briefly wondered if he’d somehow stepped straight out from a k-drama. He was dressed like he was in a k-drama, too, wearing a black t-shirt and baggy, red sweatpants with a pair of wire-rimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“Um, sorry,” you replied, feeling a bit stupid. Your voice sounded foreign in your ears, and you were praying to the gods above that you didn’t sound drunk still. Taerae shook his head, offering you a reassuring smile. You nearly passed out as a dimple bloomed on his cheek, and you began to wonder how Dayeon had never told you that her brother was perfect.

“No, go ahead and do whatever you need to do. I don’t think you were expecting me to be here.”

You nodded haphazardly, taking a few steps toward the cabinets. Taerae went back to scrolling on his phone, where you quickly realized he was reading a book. You picked up the pace, rushing past him and towards the cups that were on the counter. Grabbing one, you quickly filled it with ice and water, suddenly forgetting who was sitting behind you.

Hurriedly, you chugged the glass, practically rejoicing as the ice-cold water flowed down your throat. With a content sigh, you let one of the ice cubes fall into your mouth, and you began crunching on it.

“Are you the one that’s going to be staying with us this summer?”

You choked on the ice, panic flowing through your entire body. You practically swallowed the rest of the cube whole, spinning on the ball of your foot to face him. In your drunkenness, you’d forgotten that you were going to be living at this guy’s house for the rest of your summer and hadn’t even tried to make a good impression.

“Oh, yeah, right. That would be me, yes. I’m [First].”

“Taerae,” he replied. “If you ever need anything, let me know. I have a car.”

It took everything in you to keep your jaw from dropping. The more you learned about this guy, the more insane you felt—whenever Dayeon talked about him, she spoke like he was the biggest loser on the planet. But, right now, he seemed like the farthest thing from a loser.

“Well,” you said, clearing your throat. “I’m going to go back to sleep.”

He smiled at you again, nodding. “Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. If you’re up before me, the hangover medicine is in the mirror cabinet.”

You felt the warmth rush to your cheeks when he said that, and you rushed to put your glass in the sink and disappear from the room. “Thank you,” you mumbled, speed-walking around the island. Then, as if he was a psychic, he put his hand on the edge right as you walked into it, protecting you from the stabbing pain of a rock-hard corner. With much more fervor than the last time, you choked out another “Thank you!” before practically running up the stairs and back into the sweet escape of Dayeon’s bedroom.

ii. silencio

A couple of days into your stay at Dayeon’s house, you and Taerae found out that you both went to bed late and woke up early. As a result, your most active times were around the same time; so, the both of you often found yourselves sitting with one another.

Every night, it would be the same set-up: Taerae reading a book and drinking tea, which you found out was chamomile, while you sat across from him, working on the homework for your summer class. Then, at around 3 in the morning, you would pack up for the night. You’d then wake up before him and much before Dayeon, make your breakfast, and while you were eating, he would emerge in the morning.

You also quickly learned that Taerae had, quite literally, no flaws. Once, he sat next to you at the dining table, and he smelled like fresh laundry. On top of that, his breakfast of choice had been a piece of toast with raspberry jam which, for some reason, made you even more enamored with him.

During the day, Taerae didn’t go out much. If he did, he was going to see friends, and Dayeon seemed to be in love with one of his friends (his name was Gyuvin, and he was younger than her, which she didn’t like). She often told him to bring his friends over, but Taerae would just laugh at her and leave with car keys dangling from his hand.

He also restated his offer to take you anywhere you needed to go several times, though it was often directed to both you and Dayeon. You found that very sweet, especially for an older brother—a lot of things about his relationship with Dayeon were picturesque. If you’d had a sibling relationship like theirs, you figured you’d be a very different person.

All in all, he was very kind, which was fatal to anybody with a conscience (especially paired with his face). If the word “beautiful” was a person, you were half convinced that Taerae would be him.

You’d be, quite frankly, utterly stupid if you didn’t try and grow closer to him. So, that’s exactly what you did—at night, when Dayeon was fast asleep and you two were the only ones left alive in the house, you would emerge from the guest bedroom and sit with him. You never spoke unless he spoke first, and generally left him to his own devices, hoping somehow that just sitting in the same room as him would make him fall madly in love with you.

Soon enough, the two of you fell into a routine. You’d sit at the kitchen counter on one of their high stools, either studying or playing random games on your computer while you listened to a podcast. Taerae would read and drink tea, listening to various types of music (from jazz to trot, which you found entertaining).

Then, you made a bold move—instead of sitting at the kitchen counter, you sat yourself down at the table, in the opposite corner. Taerae looked at you for a brief moment but didn’t say anything, which made you feel decently impressed with yourself. In your delusion, you were convinced your plan was “working,” even though you had no proof that he viewed you as anything but Dayeon’s friend. 

And then, it happened. One night, Taerae was out with his friends later than usual, and you’d felt a little discouraged in pulling your little scheme to hang out with him. But, you figured that, if you didn’t go sit down there at least for the hours you usually did, you’d look suspicious (and fall behind on your schoolwork). So, you set up shop, spreading out your books and papers across the table while you compiled them into your notes.

When he got home, it was around 1 in the morning, and you could tell he was drunk from the way his cheeks were flushed (and the fact that he didn’t hang his car keys—in fact, his keys were nowhere to be found). He nodded at you as he walked to his room, shuffling his feet and yawning. You nodded back, suppressing the smile you felt itching at your lips. A moment later, he came out, wearing the same red sweatpants and black sweatshirt that he loved so much.

You then realized that you’d never been able to watch him make his tea, so you found yourself staring at him the entire time he did—from getting out the tea bags from the cabinet to him adding a plethora of little ingredients, like honey and a single drop of cream.

Then, he turned, and you immediately averted your eyes, staring at your computer screen. Taerae sat next to you instead of sitting on the opposite side, still leaving a chair in between you two. You felt yourself tense up but tried to give the illusion of being as relaxed as possible in hopes of keeping your silly crush a secret.

This time around, Taerae didn’t read a book and sat drinking his tea. He put his music on as usual, settling on the same samba jazz he’d been listening to the night you first met. He leaned back into his chair, and you continued to fight the urge to stare at him from the corner of your eye.

“You want to know something?” he asked, a little slur to his words. You looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Depends on what ‘something’ is.”

“We barely talk,” he began, laughing at himself. “But I think about you all the time. When we’re not sitting here together, I almost feel miserable. You live in my house and I still feel like we don’t spend enough time together.”

“Woah,” you said, eyes wide. “Are you sure you want to be saying this when you’re drunk?”

“When else would I say it?” he snorted, brushing his hair out of his face. He took another sip of his tea. “I’ll probably regret it in the morning, but at least it’s off my chest. Don’t tell me how you feel. Just go back to your work.”

You cleared your throat, buffering for a moment. Then, you did as he asked, and went back to furiously typing away at your study guide. About fifteen minutes later, Taerae got up and put his mug in the sink, disappearing deeper into the house—but he left the music playing.

iii. silentium

You didn’t see Taerae until the next night. He didn’t come down in the morning, and you noticed his shoes were gone from the rack next to the door. When you asked Dayeon when she emerged from her bedroom at nearly 1 pm, she said she’d gone to get his car and ended up deciding to spend the day with his friend Matthew.

You found it hard to keep a straight face in front of Dayeon for the rest of the day, wanting nothing more than to spill out all of your feelings to her, as she was your best friend. You also knew that she would likely be less than pleased that your stupid plan to get her brother to fall in love with you worked, so you kept your mouth shut.

It was also out of respect for Taerae, too, as he was probably dying of embarrassment while he was out with his friend. And, as you expected, he arrived back to the house well after Dayeon had passed out, eyebags prominent under his eyes.

You were sitting at the dining table playing Tetris, listening to a random podcast that talked about random items and events that piqued the hosts’ interest. He didn’t go into his room or make his tea this time, just sitting down next to you (with one seat in between, of course).

You took your AirPods out and paused your game, leaning back into your chair. “Sorry,” he said, drumming his fingers on the table. “If I made things weird, that’s not cool for you, ‘cause you don’t have anywhere else to go. I’ll probably be out and about more when my parents come back.”

You stayed quiet, devising a plan in your head. Part of you was exasperated that your stupid sit-in-the-same-room tactic worked, and the other part of you was screaming in your head, banging on the walls, and giggling maniacally.

You slid into the chair that separated you two, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. Then, before he could turn to look at you, you planted a quick kiss on his cheek. You felt like a middle schooler doing that, but it was the only thing you could come up with before Taerae gave up and left you alone.

He turned to face you, eyes wide and cheeks red, like they’d been last night. For a moment, you stared at each other, not saying a word. Then, you got an idea that made your head spin at just the thought of it—it was cliche and straight out of a movie scene, but you couldn’t help but want to actualize it.

Taerae seemed to have the same idea, as he leaned over and kissed you with a sort of fervor that you weren’t expecting. You couldn’t help but return the kiss, putting your hands on the sides of his face and pulling him closer to you. He pulled away for a second, tugging his glasses off his face and practically throwing them on the table.

Taerae’s lips were soft against your own, plump and perfect to kiss. You were close enough now that you could smell his cologne, which was light and airy, and you felt like a thousand flowers were blooming in your chest. Taerae ran a hand through your hair, which nearly made you swoon (if you weren’t already swooning.

You must’ve made out for a good ten minutes (at least that’s what it felt like), hugging him close to you like if you were to let go he would disappear in a second. The only thing that managed to draw you apart was the loud sound of Dayeon’s bedroom door opening, which caused you to practically shove him away from you. You nearly fell out of your chair as you rushed to get back to your original seat, patting your hair down and shoving your AirPods into your ear.

Taerae grabbed his glasses, pushing them on carelessly while he stood from his chair and nearly ran to where he kept his tea mugs. He began making his nightly tea, although you could see his hands shaking as he filled his electric kettle with water.

Dayeon skipped down the stairs and over to you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and leaning down to hover her head above your shoulder. Then, she plucked out your earbud, putting her phone in front of your computer screen.

You prayed to every god that she couldn’t smell Taerae’s cologne on you, trying to focus on her screen. It was a wall of texts, the contact being easily identifiable as Taerae’s friend, Gyuvin. You scanned every word, bringing your hand up to scroll through them.

“He asked you out?” you blurted out, not thinking about the implications of saying that right behind her older brother. It was a panic reaction, a last-ditch attempt to get her away from you so she wouldn’t find out that you’d made out with her brother in her living room. Taerae spun around, and Dayeon detached herself from you immediately, staring at you with betrayal in her eyes. Taerae looked at her with betrayal in his eyes, too, and you suddenly realized that he knew that she had a thing for his friend.

“I knew Matthew wasn’t telling me something,” Taerae scoffed, causing Dayeon to shrink into herself. “How dare you date one of my friends? In what world is that legal?”

“Do you want a free pass to date one of mine?” Dayeon argued back, which caused you to look away with guilt filling your veins. “I’ve had a crush on him for years, I deserve this!”

You hoped that she never found out about you and Taerae.

iv. quiet

It was the night before Dayeon’s parents got home, two weeks before your dorms opened back up, and Dayeon had gone out with Gyuvin, one of his friends, and a couple of your friends. You’d been invited, but you lied and said you weren’t feeling well, thinking of the opportunity to spend the entire night, alone, with your now boyfriend.

Then, he went and ruined it. You stared at your neck in the mirror in absolute horror, looking at the red mark that was blooming on your skin. Taerae sat on the counter, watching you search through your plethora of makeup bags for the green concealer you’d bought back home.

“I can’t believe you did this to me,” you said, finally finding it in your bag of eyeliners. You immediately began dabbing it onto your neck, picking up your beauty blender and trying your best to blend it out.

“This is not my fault,” he shot back, frowning. “I barely even sucked that hard. This is on you. If you didn’t bruise so easily, we wouldn’t be here.”

You shivered, picking up your normal concealer and beginning to spread that out on the green blob you’d created. “Never phrase it like that again. And, for the record, you bit me. I felt it.”

He huffed, hopping off the counter and walking behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist. You blended out the normal concealer as well, letting out a sigh as it (mostly) disappeared. “The night before your parents come home and you do this to me. How cruel is that?”

“Maybe it’s a good thing. Then we won’t have to sneak around for two weeks, right?”

“I would rather die than have your parents assume that I’m having sex with their son, but okay,” you replied, sighing. You stared at him in the mirror, now, putting your hands on his arms. He stared back at you, putting his head on your shoulder. “Either way, I don’t like hickeys. My friends used to show up to school with them all the time, and sometimes they’d end the day with one they didn’t have at the beginning. It always grossed me out.”

“Then it’ll never happen again,” he replied, squeezing your middle. “Promise.”

Taerae kissed your shoulder, humming. “Dayeon’s getting home soon. We should go to bed.”

“Is she coming home?”

“Gyuvin texted me that he and Kazuha are bringing her back. He said she doesn’t feel well, and that she thinks you got her sick.”

“Awkward,” you giggled, nearly frowning when he let go of you. You turned to face him, and he put his hands on the counter, trapping you in between him and the ledge.

“Good night, my love,” he said, pecking you on the lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Be ready for our two weeks of hell.”

“I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

thank you for reading !

[sgiandubh]

New angle

Just in, in a slightly different format:

C, arriving alone at the Charles Finch (that bookstore lunch guy, last December: an old, influential friend) and Chanel's pre-BAFTA party, in London.

Yesterday. Pics still being released by Getty Images. Still keeping an eye.

The red carpet excuse does not fit, here - no red carpet for parties, just an arrival zone functioning like a photo/press area of sorts. Also, a wee reminder that the last in your face appearance of T happened at another Chanel event, the Gabrielle Chanel Fashion Manifesto Party, on September 14th 2023.

Last but not least, I shall leave here the latest pic on my screen in the just released series, still updating as we speak:

Fashion designer Tom Ford and his +1, actress Emily Blunt, photographed together at the same event.

Tom Ford is happily gay and less happily Richard Buckley (a former Vogue editor)'s widower since 2021. Not all the people coming together at an event are a real couple, in their real respective lives. Not all +1 attendees are 'shy'. And no, McInsipid (cheers, @earthaliensworld!) was most probably not there.

I wonder why (no, I actually don't).

[Edited]: T's last appearance was at Netflix's special screening of Leave The World Behind, last November (gracias por corrigirme). Oh well, this guy annoys me more than trigonometry, back in the day.

[tanadrin]

Maybe I've just been neokeynsianpilled by Unlearning Economics over on Youtube, but I really cannot emphasize enough how bad I think it is that you haven't had a UK government willing to undertake serious public spending in the last 14 years. It's bad enough that the European economic consensus generally is that national debt is terrifying and must be avoided at all costs, but austerity in the UK was really bad, and the state of former bedrock social programs like the NHS is also awful, and a major theme of Labour's manifesto seems to be ~FIsCaL rEsPonSiBiLitY~ at a time when expanding government spending is actually necessary to forestall severe social crisis (or to keep current social crises from getting worse).

It's not enough to have a red-colored party banner; it's not enough to tout your working-class bona fides. You actually have to have a program of government that's capable of solving the problems your country faces. Keir Starmer absolutely doesn't have that. You can make the case maybe the Lib Dems don't either, but at least they have a plausible argument. And frankly I think I would be a worse leftist than I already am if I thought it was more important to support the historically (theoretically) center-left party than to look at, like, the actual material consequences that their respective campaign promises are likely to bring about.

[eve-was-framed]

now that luigi mangione has been made into a folk hero maybe all the big news networks should agree to not say the names, show the faces or read the manifestos of school shooters (and all other mass shooters) so that maybe people who want to kill other people for the notoriety of it will try to go after evil CEOs instead of little kids. we should at least try it because it’s clear that red flag gun laws won’t be passed under this administration

[mammalsofaction]

8

8. Perryshmirtz kissing... In secrecy

From our Prompt list here.

Forbidden Fruit

Rating: M

Relationship: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add tags: established relationship, forbidden relationship, non graphic violence, canon typical violence, Perry's being monitored, Perry speaks,

A/N: I finished the draft for this months ago before a bunch of shit went down and I had a bad time. I've cleaned it up the best I can now that I have a bit of time to spare, so I hope the wait was worth it Nonnie.

"One last thing before you go, Agent P." Francis calls out, and there was something in his voice, Perry thinks. That makes his heart skip a beat. He has to ensure his face was perfectly neutral as he turns back to the screen of his lair to listen.

"We've had the RnD investigate into the odd cut-offs of your mission recordings, and Carl has made the executive conclusion they've been tampered with." The Major says carefully, his dark brown eyes almost subtly calculating. He clears his throat. "You wouldn't--ah--know anything about that, would you?"

Perry ensures to provide a thoughtful pause before firmly shaking his head. The Major hums.

"Well, get to the bottom of that, Agent P."

Perry gives Francis a characterically sharp salute, and jumps into the parked hoverjet on its designated landing. He watches the screen go black as the Major dismissively ends transmission, but it takes the whole flight over to DEI to calm his heart rate back down.

---

Their wrestling this time around had taken them into the open air balcony of the lab, and Perry knows Heinz had figured he's been off-key all morning. 

Heinz doesn't give him any less quarter nevertheless, and Perry's so out of it he'd almost given him an opening--or three.

He ducks sharply--just in time for the Phillips' screwdriver Heinz had been aiming for his head lodges into the wall behind him, and Perry takes that second of momentum to sweep the scientist's clumsy feet from under him, forcing them both into a barrel roll across the laboratory floor. Heinz grunts as Perry slams his head into the polished tiles, teeth barred.

"Where are you?" Heinz asked aloud, as if he couldn't help himself. Perry can feel his heartbeat, thumping a million miles per hour from beneath his palm pressed into Heinz's chest.

Perry's heart rockets into his throat, and he shakes his head, as subtly as he could. Equally impulsively, Heinz's eyes darts to the space above his head-on his hat-but it was only for a second. Brief enough to overlook. Heinz twists his lower body,  and Perry's vaulted a couple of feet away from the force of the kick into his abdomen.

"Target identified."

Shit.

Sure enough, when Perry turns to see, the nozzle of the Voiceless-Inator had begun to glow an ominous red, prepped and locked onto the podium where Roger would be presenting his early manifesto for the next Trimester Mayoral Election. Heinz had begun to cackle, an early celebration for what he's probably thought of as an easy win, but it isn't the first time Perry's had to make do with luck in the nick of time.

Perry rifles through his hat, fingers trailing over the seamless pockets stitched between the silk layers from within its crown. He rolls onto his feet, trusting his instincts to land him on what he needs from his trusty box of tools, and as the countdown nears its end, Perry tugs out a three piece compact mirror, poised right ahead of it's unnatural chemical beam.

"NO! WAIT! REDIRECTING THE CHARGE IS GOING TO MAKE IT-!"

BOOM!

Perry can feel his ears ringing from the volume of the ensuing explosion, and he feels himself thrown off by the force of compressed energy, saved by the familiar grip of an arm, hanging him over the balcony walls.

Perry coughs, spitting up black phlegm as Heinz grunts and yells and swears, pulling his weight up and over into the safety of the sooted foyer. The neighbours don't look twice anymore, and the residents beneath had smartly cleared away from any potential debris within the last few minutes.

Life in Danville will soon continue apace. For now, there is an unnatural silence as two men lay on their backs, heavily panting black smoke and the burnt smell of gasoline.

In the very distance, there is a joyous cry to mark the end of another successful manifesto with everyone's voices perfectly present. Only just marking the presence of a droning speech up until that very moment. There is more grunting, the heavy sound of steel elbows on hard tiles, before Perry finds himself looking up into a pair of concerned baby blue eyes, a narrow face and much beloved crooked aquiline nose.

Heinz looks him up and down, and Perry sees the relief that courses through him as he'd apparently found whatever he was looking for.

"There you are." He says, in a single breath, and Perry briefly closes his eyes as Heinz leans down, knocking their foreheads together so they could share breaths, heated and soot-stained. "Curse you, Perry the Platypus."

Heinz trails the tip of his nose down the line of his cheek, and Perry swallows so loudly that Heinz freezes, acknowledging the tension still present in his shoulders. Perry presses his hand into Heinz's chest, poised above his own. Allegedly to push him away, but he finds his hands clasped again right over where his heart should be, beating the rhythm of his favourite tune.

"It's gone." Heinz whispers, right into his ear. It tickles the hairs right above the back of his nape, and Perry shivers. "The explosion blew it off of the balcony, we're alone. It's alright."

His hat, gone, yes. He notices it now, the stark emptiness where the warmth of his fedora should be, and with it, OWCA's equivalent of a body cam.

This moment was their own. Finally, their own.

Perry inhales sharply, lips brushing against the smooth skin of Heinz's jaw. He shakes his head firmly, trembling.

"No?" Heinz asked.

"Almost-," Perry says softly, voice raspy from the soot and disuse. He cuts himself off, tries again. "He's...onto us. Heinz."

"Francis?" Heinz demanded, his own voice thick with incredulity. Further emphasizes as he leans higher, putting real space between them to express the sheer disbelief on his face, but when Perry whines from the cold of the sudden distance, he leans back down quickly, planting a quick kiss on Perry's chin that disorients him as efficiently as a punch.

"It's Carl." Perry corrects, and the confusion clears out in an instant. The agent clears his throat, preparing himself for a different sort of argument. "Heinz." Perry chides, as well as he could in state as dazed and lovesick as he was. The other man began to trail sweet little pecks over the length of his jaw, down the bowl of his collar, and back up the bridge of his nose. "Heinz. Listen. I-I think we have to-,"

Stop, Perry wants to say. Stop, stop, stop, but he captures Perry's lips in his own, his mouth wet, deep and hungry-and the noise that falls out of him is better akin to more, more, more.

"Heinz," Perry says, an ineffectual scolding between every intake of breath. As he pulls Perry's tongue into his own mouth, sucking, Perry feels his hips jolt involuntarily, one leg crossed behind the other man's back. "God, Heinz,"

"Gott, but you're feeling clingy." He answers, his voice making it sound like a compliment . Perry feels his hands, dexterous and desperate, pulling down the zipper right there on the balcony floor, in front of every neighbour and God himself, at three forty fucking five in the evening. He palms the straining tent peeking out the front of his trousers, and Perry chokes on his own breath. He knocks the back of his temple into the floor, gasping.

It was bold, mortifyingly so, particularly in the daring light of the evident scandal. A forbidden fruit Perry should have never let himself sample all those months ago, and now he had no way of turning back.

"I've got you, mausebär." Heins assures, leaving black smudges on his shirt, all the way down. Perry stuffs his fist in his mouth,  body burning hot with anticipation. "Hold on to me. Good boy."

Perry turns his gaze to the sky, relishes the brush of his air against his hair-bare and damning--and reminds himself that Eve had never regretted her mouthful, not even once.

[kairoot]

❝ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐭 ❞ | nrk.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : enemies to lovers, high school au, fluff, comedy, maybe a bit of angst (idk)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : harsh jokes probably, niki and his friends being kinda mean, light cursing, name calling

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 : by @keiipopped

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : dancer!niki x dancer!fem!reader ft. heeseung, sunghoon, yunjin, hanni & kyujin

author’s note: context for one of the insults in here: this is when kyujin had her red hair. just so you guys don’t get confused as to why niki’s calling her ‘redhead’ 😭 kind of inspired by charli xcx’s ‘constant repeat’ ?? idk it kinda gives me enemies to lovers type vibe in some of the lyrics.

the manifesto outfits for 4Z

SS ➜ high school dancers niki and y/n can’t stand eachother. then again.. they love each other. then why is niki always being so mean? y/n’s dance group, 4Z and niki’s group, PRDX go into the school’s dance competition , battling against each other to be the face of the school’s best dance team.

—

“so, when are you gonna tell him?” hanni asked y/n as they walked side by side, carrying their lunch trays. kyujin walked on the other side of y/n, already snacking on her meal.

“hanni, how many times do I have to tell you? I don’t like him.” y/n replied, shaking her head. hanni had been going on and on about the school’s best dancer, riki, but everyone called him niki. or so he said he was the best but Y/n thought otherwise. half of the school was 4Z fan-based and the other was for PRDX.

hanni swore y/n had a crush on the boy but Y/n always denied. even though they always bumped heads, y/n did have feelings for him. she could never admit that to her team, though.

“i don’t know, n/n. you seem to give him heart eyes everytime he looks your way.” Kyujin spoke, apple still in her mouth. Y/n slightly shoved her jokingly, “what are you talking about, Kyu?” she asked rhetorically.

the three continued to walk to their table, finding the dance group’s leader, Yunjin. she greeted them as they sat down and began talking about the upcoming dance competition.

“so, have we figured out outfits for The Manifesto?” Kyujin questioned the leader.

“well, i was thinking like orange at first to go with the theme but I heard that’s what the 3 idiots are wearing.” Yunjin rolled her eyes, referring to Niki and his members, Heeseung and Sunghoon. they were both older but stuck to him like minions.

“so, maybe black? i know it’s common but some leather would be cool.” the leader suggested. the group looked at each other, trying to decide whether it was a good idea or not.

“the principal said nothing inappropriate or revealing, though..” Hanni commented. “yeah, but we’re not wearing lingerie, Hanni. just a subtle leather bottom is fine.” Yunjin scoffed jokingly.

by then, Y/n was in her own world, taking small bites of her food. she looked over to where Niki’s table was, watching all of the boys chunk milk cartons at eachother, the girls lining up at their table to giggle at their antics.

niki sat at the lunch table, laughing at his friend’s foolish behavior. his tray was discarded to the side, nothing but an apple there. he went to grab it, but caught Y/n’s eyes instead. she didn’t even realize she was staring until the boy sent a wink her way, flashing his signature smile.

she quickly averted her gaze, blinking extra hard to knock herself out of the trance she was in. the group continued to discuss their plans for the competition, agreeing and disagreeing with certain things.

“well i’m stuffed so.. Y/n, you coming?” Kyujin asked, tilting her head towards the cafeteria’s garbage pail. the other girl nodded, getting up to leave with her friend. they said their goodbyes to Yunjin; Hanni heading to her next class.

the two students walked side by side, chatting up a storm before a taller male stepped in front of them.

“let me clean this for you.” it was Niki who had offered to empty Y/n’s tray. his hand gripped the edge of it as if he had really been insisting on cleaning the tray for her.

Kyujin’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked the older male up and down. “i don’t think she wants to-“

“yo, shut it, redhead. i wasn’t asking you.” Niki snapped at her, turning back to Y/n. her expression mirrored the one that Kyujin still wore on her face.

“nah, she’s right. i’m good-“

“really, l/n. let me do it.” he shifted the tray towards him, attempting to yank it away from her. Y/n did the same thing, pulling the tray back in her direction.

“No.”

“why not?” he smirked playfully, the tray jerking back in his direction. It seemed like a game of ‘tug-of-war’ at that point. Niki was enjoying it, though.

“give it back, Nishimura.” y/n struggled to pull it this time as Niki held the lunch tray against his tall frame, y/n coming closer to him with each pull.

“wow, i’ve really got you in my embrace now, huh?” he giggled, enjoying the contact with his enemy.

“niki, seriously, give it back-“ y/n’s complaints came to a halt as red sauce splattered on her uniform top, some against her cheek. everyone in the lunchroom stopped what they were doing to see the mess. niki’s hand had let go of the tray mid-tug.

a series of chuckles came from the left side of Y/n. it was Heeseung and Sunghoon, snickering at the incident. y/n felt heat rush to her face as all eyes were on her. some others joining in with the giggles.

“seriously, Nishimura, what the hell?!” Kyujin shouted, grabbing Y/n by the arm; rushing out of the cafeteria. Y/n pushed passed Niki as he tried to call for her.

the trays were long forgotten.

y/n felt tears prick her eyes as the anger inside her brewed. Kyujin walked her to the locker rooms, silently cursing at herself for not stopping the boy.

“it’s alright, kyu. i promise.” Y/n chuckled as they walked into the changing room. she walked to her locker, finding the soft pair of sweatpants and t-shirt she packed.

“you say that but i really should have stopped him. i don’t know how i didn’t see that coming, i’m sorry.” she patted y/n’s arm, walking towards the door.

the other girl smiled, waving off Kyujin’s apology, continuing to tell her it was fine. Y/n changed into her clothes while they chatted for a bit until Kyujin had to leave.

“meet me in the gym, alright? we still need to work on our part in the routine.” the redhead said before leaving the locker room.

walking towards the gym like Kyujin told her, Y/n stopped at the door as she heard music already booming through the speakers. she quickly ran through the big doors, her conscious telling her that she was late.

she fumbled to get into the gym, only to find three sleeveless guys moving around the squeaky floor, cackling with each other. before any of them could see her, she backed out through the doors.

she scrambled to pull her phone out, leaning against the wall while finding Kyujin’s contact.

“hello?” her voice rang on the other line. Y/n planted a hand against her forehead, face palming at the girl’s carefree tone. “kyu! I thought you told me to meet you in the gym?” she whisper yelled.

“i did! but that cute guy that I told you about.. he wanted to know if I needed any help with studying.” Y/n could hear her smile through the phone. “why do you sound like you just saw a ghost?”

“only because I did, but worse. It was Niki. he was with Thing 1 and Thing 2.” Y/n scoffed, readjusting her tee. Kyujin responded with the same sound, rolling her eyes.

“how in the hell did those idiots get there before us? you know what, don’t worry. I’ll be there soon.” she grumbled into the speaker.

as the girls finished their conversation, Niki came out of the gym, neck covered in sweat. He looked around, catching a glimpse of Y/n against the wall.

“yo, l/n,” he smiled, walking up to her. her eyes widened as she looked up from her phone, attempting to turn away from the boy. he brought his hand up to catch her wrist, pulling her back towards him. “you following me, dummy?”

she snatched her wrist from his grasp, scrunching her face up in disgust. “yeah, right.”

he flashed his smile again, playfully shoving her arm. “why else would you be here, then?”

“we were gonna use the gym, but it turns out the three musketeers ended up here before us.” she snorted. niki scoffed at the nickname she gave him and his friends. he ran a hand through his wet hair, raising an eyebrow at the girl.

“what? the fab four couldn’t find anywhere to practice their 3-step routine?” he pouted, mockingly. y/n tried to hide the offended look on her face as she began to push past the boy.

“wait,” niki giggled a bit, pulling her back gently. she’d be lying if she said she didn’t get butterflies from how close they were.

“how about we share the gym? one half is PRDX and the other half is.. your team.” he shrugged as if it was the best idea ever. y/n’s eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“my team and your team in the same space? i don’t think so.” she shook her head.

“why not? we’ll practically be in the same space for The Manifesto. though, you guys won’t last that long.” he snickered a bit causing y/n to land a harsh punch against his arm.

“see? this isn’t gonna work. especially not with your buddies.” y/n grumbled.

yunjin, hanni, and kyujin stood on one side of the gym, arms crossed. y/n stood next to them, awkwardly.

“well, i’ll be damned. niki, this was your idea?” sunghoon chuckled, pointing towards the girls. heeseung shook his head as he took a sip of water, laughing with the other boy.

niki shrugged, “yeah, i mean, i don’t see a problem with it.”

“really? you don’t see the problem? or is that cause your ‘n/n’ is here?” sunghoon tilted his head. niki bit back a smile as y/n’s eyes widened in embarrassment.

yunjin rolled her eyes, becoming impatient. “whatever, can we just get the speaker?”

heeseung and sunghoon stared at each other, a laugh erupting from both of them.

“we should call them banzai and ed. they’re always laughing.” hanni whispered to kyujin causing her to snort a bit too loud. sunghoon shot her a glare, making her roll her eyes.

“alright, dumbos. we’re gonna do our routine first and then you all can practice your 1-2 step, yeah?” sunghoon shrugged, smiling as he grabbed his phone to start the music.

motley crew by post malone blared through the gym’s speakers as the girls took their seats in the bleachers. two of them talked while the two others watched. y/n was definitely watching niki a little too hard.

“gosh, snap out of your trance, y/n.” hanni giggled, elbowing the girl softly. y/n scoffed at her, shoving her back. she waved off hanni’s joke, still watching niki.

he was a really great dancer. he had a lot of flow in his body. the way he was able to make his moves so clear.

some time into the routine, y/n didn’t even realize that she had began to like niki more and more. he would look her way a few times, smiling or nodding his head towards her. she felt herself look away in embarrassment or roll her eyes at him each time.

“okay, fab four. your turn.” sunghoon breathed heavily, patting a towel against his neck. yunjin connected her phone to the bluetooth, setting it down on the floor as a marker.

the girls grouped together to slide the huge closet mirror over to their side, setting it in front of the bleachers. niki, sunghoon, and heeseung sat on the other side.

they stretched a bit before getting into place before the song could start. their song was constant repeat by charli xcx, which yunjin had been begging them to do.

y/n was too into the music to notice that niki was watching her. his head slightly bopped to the music, squinting his eyes a bit. even sunghoon caught himself watching how charismatic all of them were.

[ I hate inserting these in my writings now but a huge time skip because I haven’t written in a long time so there’s 0 creativity here and I’m not sure what they should do in the gym other than niki watching and flirting with reader from afar I’m so sorry you guys 😭 ]

everyone scrambled around the dressing room, putting on the last of their accessories. they bumped into each other, mumbling to themselves about items they’ve misplaced.

“okay, out of this place in like 3 minutes, people. we’ve seriously gotta go.” one of the mc’s, haeun peeked her head into the room, causing the girls to rush towards the door.

“before we go, i just wanna say that we will beat the little paradoxes, okay guys?” Kyujin said breathing hard. she seemed to be getting a bit nervous, which is definitely not what the group needed in that moment.

yunjin nodded her head, blonde hair bouncing. “yeah, Kyu, totally. let’s go.”

they stepped into the crowded gymnasium, the lights low and purple, students scattered everywhere. everyone still trying to get into the bleachers before the competition started.

“well, this is what we’ve all been waiting for, right, haeun?” changmin said. he was the second mc for the night, him and haeun would be keeping score and narrating the whole event.

the girls walked hand in hand to their spot behind the stage as the mcs continued their chat. they all waited until the long introduction was over and when they would start calling the groups out.

of course, PRDX was first. the girls still sat in the back, calming their nerves. y/n heard the routine song, only imagining what niki looked like on the stage.

y/n walked to the side, watching from behind the curtain. once again, she fell in love with niki’s flow. with the way he moved. in one of the moves, he turned to face the back where y/n was, which made her move back behind the curtain.

the crowd went wild for the group. they absolutely loved PRDX. but of course it was mostly girl screams that were heard.

“oh my gosh, they’re not even that good. like seriously.” kyujin folded her arms, shaking her head.

“yeah, but you’ve gotta admit. they’ve got some type of charisma to them.” yunjin mumbled, peeking outside the curtain beside y/n. they all stared at the leader in confusion.

“well, that was a sudden change..” hanni snorted.

soon enough, it was time for the girls to go on. they put in two songs for their routine. y/n caught niki’s eye as she stood in place, waiting for the music to start. he smiled, slightly cheering for them. this confused the girl but she focused back on her performance.

around the second song, the girls jumped down from the stage, surprising everyone. the crowd got louder, everyone ‘wowing’ and ‘woahing’.

by now, they were in the middle of a crowd dancing with the spot light all over them. literally and figuratively. they were making their way towards their rivals, rubbing their victory in their faces.

the boys scoffed, one of them folding their arms. niki was kind of into it, laughing at the act.

the girls didn’t stop though. y/n came to the front, really showing off in front of them. she had a point to prove. that her team really could win. that they were the best dancers.

sunghoon glared at her the whole time, never taking his eyes off of her. he couldn’t stand the smug look on the girl’s face and the fact that his friend was actually enjoying it.

once again, y/n got to into the music, not really aware of her surroundings. her members had let her have a solo, really making her shine.

before she could even make the winning move, liquid had been thrown at her, causing her to slip.

“yo, sunghoon, what the hell?!” niki shouted. more people came off the bleachers to see the second incident y/n had been caught in.

“okay, no need to be a fcking jerk, sunghoon!” yunjin shoved him, her members pulling her away. he stood there, brushing off his jacket as if he hadn’t done anything.

y/n winced at the pain in her ankle and back. niki had ran over to help her but she quickly denied.

“no, i think you and your team have did enough.” she grumbled out. he ignored her complaints, picking her up and wrapping one of her arms around him.

he walked her to the dressing room, sitting her on the big red couch,“i’ll be back with some ice, alright?”

the girl nodded, kicking her shoe off and sliding her foot up to the cushion.

he walked back to where the drinks were, grabbing a cup and filling it with ice. he saw sunghoon walking out through the gym doors, a scowl on his face.

he shook his head, bringing the ice back to the room.

y/n had thrown her gloves and vest to the side, her eyes closed.

“you sleep already, dummy?” he chuckled, sitting next to her legs, placing her injured foot in his lap.

“yeah, i wish.” she snorted. he looked at her for a minute, admiring her features. now probably wasn’t the best moment, but…

“you’re really pretty.” he looked down at her ankle, carefully placing the cup of ice on it. y/n’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes popped open.

“what?”

“i said you’re really pretty.”

she scoffed, “and out of all times, you wanna tell me this now? nishimura, you and your members have caused us hell and you wanna call me pretty?-“

“shut up, i’m trying to confess my love to you.” he smiled a bit, readjusting his position so he was facing her.

“i know i haven’t always been the nicest person. teasing you ‘n stuff. but i really like you y/n, i do. this sounds so corny out loud but it’s the truth.”

she sat up a bit, looking around. was this a dream? after all that head bumping and teasing each other, niki actually liked her?

“so, you mean to tell me that.. you were only mean.. ‘cause you liked me?” she questioned. she wanted to make sure she had this right, it was all so sudden.

“well, not at first, but yeah.” he shrugged, smiling. she shoved him a bit, looking down and mirroring his expression.

she looked back up at him, “do you really mean it? you’re not being stupid this time? you’re not recording this so you can send it to heeseung and sunghoon for some giggles?”

“y/n,” niki rolled his eyes, smile still plastered on his face. “no. i really do like you. and you’re really talented, i like that.”

she smiled once more, heat rushing to her face. it was silent for a bit until she spoke up again.

“so..?”

“so?” niki took the ice off of her ankle, placing on the floor. he turned to her again, attempting to read what she was thinking.

her smile widened, “how are we gonna tell our teams?”

taglist : (message to be added)

author’s note : kei bb, im so sorry, this was so bad 😭😭 as you can see, im not in the habit of writing long things rn, i haven’t did it in so long.

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

ASOIAF entities as main pop girlies

The Night's Watch = Katy Perry

Once upon a time, pop's most influential hit maker suddenly decided to dye her hair blonde and get a pixie cut, got political, and publicly spoke to a therapist who told her to get her shit together. Thus began her never-ending flop era.

In an unrelated sequence of events, Aegon I Targaryen (a weird blonde man) invaded Westeros, created a central political unit, told the different kingdoms to get their shit together, and cut off the NW's weekly supply of men since there were no more pointless wars going around. Thus began their never-ending flop era.

BTW Jon Snow is the NW's 'Harleys in Hawaii'....their first and only hit in a really long time :(

The Kingsguard = Taylor Swift

Very famous, very rich, very influential, actually has a history of producing incredible material. But every now and then, you get a pop album that's just so..... bleh :/ And is Jaime Lannister the Westeros version of Taylor's Reputation era? Idk, you tell me....

Also, remember how TS had a feud with KP but got more famous and successful as Katy faded into irrelevance? Yeah, me too. In the same vein, the KG continues to maintain its high reputation while its counterpart (the NW) becomes even more irrelevant than it already was, if that's even possible.

The Golden Company = Gaga

Exclusively for the gays and no one else. There's really no doubt about it. But Gaga hurt the fanbase when she decided to pivot into acting, which is currently giving her more success than the music stuff. The GC has a great reputation but comes from a history of flop rebellions. So they've pivoted to a "Targaryen" pretender in hopes that they can win big this time around.

The Rainbowguard = Charli XCX

Huh?? Shouldn't the Rainbow Guard be Gaga??!

Please 🙄 don't be ridiculous. They do not have the material, and that's the T. But they're both for the gals and the gays. And in the same way that Charli had like two hits then faded into the shadows, the Rainbow Guard really can only claim Loras and Brienne. The rest are inconsequential.

The Brotherhood Without Banners = Dula Peep (aka Dua Lipa)

Who doesn't know THE Albanian pop princess Dula Peep?? She new, she's hot, and she's from out of town! She's got good music, but critics say that she's been recycling the same sound for a while now which is getting stale. The BWB has fallen into the hands of a foreign red god, and critics say that they can't produce a hit anymore since they kept recycling the same Beric. They did it six times, which got a little stale...

The Faceless Men = Grimes

Grimes makes really good music, I think? Also, remember when she dated a douchebag billionaire, got dumped, then staged a PR stunt reading the communist manifesto? Me neither. Anyway, the FM are known for being very good assassins who sell their services for the highest price possible. They were also founded by slaves, but that's probably unrelated.

Maesters of the Citadel = SZA

The talent is there, the influence is there, and the reputation is there. But you cannot trust them because they like to lie a lot...unprovoked.

[BONUS] Robb Stark's Vanguard = Bebe Rexha

Bebe is responsible for some of the greatest pop hits of the 21st century; she's even written one of the greatest K-pop songs of all time, that's a whole other region!! She's the very face of talent, but she's unfortunately a blink and you'll miss it type of gal. The average Joe would most likely struggle to name more than two songs from her. Robb's Vanguard also has the talent. They have the material. But sadly, 90% of us would struggle to identify anyone not named Dacey Mormont. I mean, did you even remember that this group existed?

[BONUS] Tywin Lannister = Nicki Minaj

A very talented but messy bitch who likes to play around with extremely problematic people...do I need to elaborate any further?

[dcdreamblog]

So, the Red Hood. The first one, anyway, not the new one with the biker jacket. Some accounts have claimed that the Red Hood was a single man, a highly skilled thief and gangster who fought the Batman a few times in his early days. Others have claimed it was a collective identity, just a helmet and cloak that got passed around a lot by gangsters whenever they felt like pretending they had backing from a proper supervillain and wanted to disguise their informants. Which theory do you think is more likely to be correct?

So, it's a bit of both and the mechanics of the original Red Hood were kept intentionally mysterious. As best we can tell it went like this.

(The "Red Hood Gang" marching away from an apartment building where an informant had just been killed, their body destroyed in the fire that resulted. Famously, this image occurs on the same Gotham Gazette page where a trusted news source first prints the word "Batman")

The Red Hood Gang was a criminal outfit, mostly concerned with robbery on a mass scale. Knocking over industrial giants like Wayne Tech and Ace Chemical in the wider Gotham region. Their rank and file members wore red lycra face masks and business suits to remain as anonymous and untraceable as humanly possible. (One of the forensic theories about the gang is that the hoods kept members from leaving hair or skin cells are crime scenes) There was however, a leader of the gang called simply "Red Hood One" who wore the much more famous pill shaped helmet. The actual ROLE of this public facing leader is debated and the theories are two fold.

"The" Red Hood was the leader of this gang. A mysterious and dangerous criminal with a potently nihilistic streak who gathered like minded outsiders around himself. This was the most commonly accepted version of events until.

"The" Red Hood was a patsy. A low level member of the gang or even a hostage who was kept at proverbial gun point by the gang to draw police and later Batman's attention towards him and not the actual leaders of the gang who operated in secret.

The second theory was born by, of all people, the Joker who claimed in one of his many, MANY unhinged manifestos that he WAS the Red Hood who famously slipped into an open chemical vat during a chase with Batman.

It's stuck in the public consciousness despite the Joker's honesty regarding his own past being famously untrustworthy and mysterious because said chase with Batman DID happen and it DID result in Red Hood falling into an open vat where his body was never found, which of course makes Gothamites suspicious of his actual death on that night.

Truly I could go either way, if I'm leaning toward option 1 its only because I don't trust the Joker's take on anything as far as I can throw it.

[lakesbian]

alright this one is getting its own post instead of a reblog on a post that is Entirely Not About That. presenting the 'what if we put amy and alec in a room together' manifesto because the thing is that it is interesting but not in the way amy/alec shippers think

Amy shook her head, talking over her, “She’s always been emotional, passionate, unrestrained, and she’s channeling all this new emotion into hate, because it’s the closest equivalent.” “New emotion?” Regent asked.  “You mean you mindraped her.” Amy looked like she’d been slapped across the face.  I wasn’t surprised, but hearing it said out loud was unsettling.

“Nice,” Regent said.  “She could be a human-spider hybrid.  Add some insult to injury with the mindrape thing.” I could see Amy tense.

it is relevant to his character that he's the first person to cut through amy's euphemisms (and everyone else's avoidance of saying the unsettling part out loud) and outright say "you mindraped her." he calls the euphemistic language out and then intentionally repeats it a second time for no other reason than to bug her about it. it's vaguely reminiscent of something he says to sophia during his interlude:

“You and I are more alike than you’d suspect, I think,” he said. “We’re both arrogant assholes, yeah?  Difference is, I admit it, I don’t dress it up and tell myself that I’m a bitch and that that’s a good thing.”  He burned Emma’s face out of another photo.

he has a repeated habit of making people uncomfortable by calling something out for exactly what it is, whether it be "yeah sure cape groupies, my dad's girls, people i used my power on towards the end" or "you mean you mindraped her." he's desensitized enough to really all forms of violence to be unbothered by committing or witnessing them, but he seems to harbor a genuine pet peeve for people who obscure or unreasonably justify what they're actually doing. as uncomfortable as he can make taylor, it's often not that he's doing things worse than the other undersiders, but that he's the person most willing to openly admit what he's doing--or to pettily call out what someone else is doing.

i think it more or less boils down to the fact that he's never gotten to be the person on the peripherals of violence making up neat and tidy ways to talk about it: he spent his entire childhood being hurt in every way imaginable & being coerced into doing the same to others. i think it left him with a sort of genuine distaste for being expected to talk in circles around the viscerally awful things he had done to him or did to others, and subsequently, for people who have done similar things but can't fucking fess up to the reality of it. it's like he's been walking around his entire life just absolutely drenched in blood, witnessing so much else get covered in it, and he's starting to get legitimately bothered over people standing around twiddling their thumbs and pretending it's red paint. he knows it's blood. he's been tasting it since he was 6. he would really like if everyone else could also grow up and admit it's fucking blood.

it's always funny to me that amy/alec shipping is, like, a Thing--a niche thing, but a Thing, because i could not think of a rapist more hand-crafted to piss amy dallon off than alec vasil. he cannot go Three seconds in her presence without going "oh you raped her? you mean you raped her? with your mind? like she doesn't just have new feelings you specifically mean you mindraped her?"

she, on some level, views herself as someone who did harm because she's irrevocably, ontologically evil, and is sort of desperately obsessed with minimalizing or half-justifying her actions to herself so that she can avoid recognizing that she feels like she can't be better. she's clinging to the idea that she can be "redeemed" if she does something of equal measure in the opposite direction (e.g 'spending the rest of her life healing people' as she mentions), but because she can't even directly acknowledge how bad her actions actually were without crumbling under the weight of the idea that she's doomed to be that bad, she's fundamentally incapable of looking directly at what she did at this point in the story.

alec, on the other hand, is really fucking upfront and fairly objective about his actions--he never ties them into some Inarguable Truth About His Soul, and he's pretty honest about whether or not he thinks they're justifiable. in 14.1, he has this dialogue with cherie:

“When daddy had you practicing your powers, you ‘hijacked’ a few people at a time, used their bodies to get high with no consequences for you, you threw orgies for yourself…” “Again.  I was a kid.”

but despite the fact that sophia is, on some level, justified in his mind by his "eye for an eye, this is a favor for taylor" rhetoric--he's fine with admitting that he's also just doing it because, yeah, he's an arrogant asshole and he feels like it. some of it was because he was a kid being groomed, and some of it was because He Felt Like It.*

*sure, he only Felt Like It because he has a comically large cocktail of unpacked psychological issues--but he doesn't know that, he just knows he felt like it.

in other words, he doesn't subscribe to the idea that any of his actions are, like, Ontologically Predetermined By His Inner Being or even necessarily all related. he's like the fuckin' "might do it again, prolly not" dude from the sex offender shuffle. okay, sorry for saying that in my seriouspost. but his philosophies would clash hilariously badly with amy--he insists on accepting his own & others actions for exactly what they are, he's generally very invested in not being his father (being asked if he intends to turn out like his dad is one of the only times something briefly upsets him), and he's actually doing pretty okay at that. he's like...shockingly well-adjusted given the circumstances. his entire arc is more or less a slow upward climb.

i think having to be around someone who both believes and would outright admit "yeah i raped people, no i dunno if i feel that bad, no i'm not raking myself over the coals for it, yeah some of it was because i was a kid, yeah some of the other stuff wasn't, no i'm not Predestined To Suck," would like. clash with her beliefs abt 'ontologically evil' being a real thing, abt punishment as justice, etc. in a way that would really bother her. she spends a lot of her time in her head trying to twist things around until they feel salvageable to her, but alec is 0 amount concerned with rationalizing to make him feel alright--he just does things, some bad, most shitty attempts to be better.

it's, funnily enough, far more functional for improving than what amy has going on--he operates on material actions as opposed to her Self-Flagellating Thought Labyrinths, and the fact that he's busier moving on from things he can't materially change than he is kicking himself in the face means he can actually achieve some form of progress towards more functional approaches wrt human interaction. i think if amy had an extended conversation w/ him about the subject, she'd both be disgusted with him for not thinking thoughtcrime is real and deeply resentful that this fellow ontologically evil villain is doing better at moving forwards as a person than her despite not 24/7 flagellating himself + yearning for "redemption" like she is. it'd throw a disturbingly large wrench in her worldview, and she would not be happy about it.

oh, and alec would think she's weird and mopey and dumb and annoying and "why do it if you can't even admit it." and he would probably tell her as much. which is the point where i unlock the door to the room so alec can sprint out to escape amy's attempt to put tastebuds on his asshole.