#and growing is legal if i get a license in my state now so. what if i just became a drug dealer

[roachfurby]

TRANS WEED????

#im going full autistic abt weed growing and hybridization i am not fucking joking #i KNEW i would bc genetics is such a big special interest that i literally have had to bury it my whole life bc of the math #but it has leeched its way into every other thing i do. i make punnett squares to determine how my sims kids look in legacies #and growing is legal if i get a license in my state now so. what if i just became a drug dealer #my family went to a dispensary for the first time a couple days ago and i was sitting at a window #and my brother is stoned out his gourd and he asks me to hold my hands up in a certain way #and hes like. wouagh..... you look like weed jesus............... #i think its calling me. i think maybe i was born to be weed jesus

[badomensbaby]

rules of the road. lrh (part 1.)

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: finally getting your driver's license after moving to the big city for college, you're a bit stunned by your dorky, charming driving instructor.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. flirting/flustering, protected smut, praise kink, mommy kink, car sex, safe sane and consensual, explicit sexual content. (driving instructor! luke, racecar driver! luke)

words: 6,307

a/n: one beautiful evening, as i was driving home with a frosty from wendy's balanced in my lap, i saw a student driver vehicle and i was like! hm! what if... and then this kind of happened. i tried to keep a keen eye while editing but if there's an error, feel free to let me know! <3

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

You weren't a typically nervous person.

Growing up in a town where you practically had to just figure it out on your own, nothing really got under your skin. Not tractor maintenance nor harvest schedules, or that nasty little wasp's nest in the cattle barn in the spring.

But tests, those were a different story.

From college entrance exams to applying for your driver's license, those were the types of tests that made your heart race and your palms clam up. Because it was the unknown that bothered you so much. The unfamiliarity.

And, sprinkle in the fact that you'd left the family farm to pursue a college degree into the mix and every worry's been increased tenfold. As the baby of the family, first daughter behind a handful of rowdy, hard-working boys, being the first of your household to attend college was a serious milestone. You could only hope to make your parents and siblings proud.

But moving to the big city meant learning to drive. Well, legally. You've spent countless hours in your father's farm truck or your grandfather's tractor, you weren't necessarily inexperienced when it came to driving but you've never really been surrounded by other drivers. Just gravel roads and grassy two-tracks and your bothers dirt bikes.

The initial exam, a knowledge test about road signs and rules, wasn't too bad. They'd given you a practice test and a helpful guide booklet when you'd arrived at your appointment. It felt odd, being just barely twenty years old and taking a driver knowledge exam alongside kids barely pushing sixteen. You felt behind but it wasn't your fault.

Nerves didn't erupt in your stomach until the kind lady in the Secretary of State's office informed you that you'd be taking an on-road driver skills test. An instructor will watch you, quiz you, and grade you accordingly and if you fail, you can kiss your ability to drive legally goodbye until you pass.

Now that makes you nervous. Like there's ravenous butterflies swarming your stomach. You're already under a lot of pressure with fall classes starting soon and your part-time job, now you're worried about passing your driver's exam. The lady assured you there's nothing to fret over, that the instructor you've been assigned is well versed in the rules of the road and he's a total sweetheart.

Waiting in the parking lot wasn't the worst part. You were told he'd arrive shortly, a man named Mr. Hemmings, in one of the contracted company's instructing vehicles. Plastered with bright yellow stickers along the back, just shouting to everyone on the road that you're an inexperienced driver so take it easy.

Expecting some middle aged, married, grumpy man with nothing positive to say, the nerves weren't so bad as you basked in the moderate heat of the Michigan summer sun. Your phone pings a few times, a slew of good lucks and you've got this! from your family members. You don't even realize there's a stark white Toyota Camry pulling up to the curb until the scuff of shoes on the asphalt catches your attention.

"Y/N L/N?" A thick, low voice questions. A text message to your eldest brother sits unfinished beneath your thumbs, lips parting with shock. There's no bald patch or flat tire sticking out beneath his shirt, hell it barely looks like he's wearing a shirt at all because the white fabric is so snug and pulled taught over his abdomen and chest and arms that it's absolutely ludicrous. "Y/N?" he repeats.

"Yeah- yeah, that's me," You hesitantly stand, shoving your phone in the pocket of your jeans before brushing your now clammy hands along your thighs. His eyes flicker between the clipboard in his hand and you, shamelessly raking up and down your frame before clearing his throat.

"Great," His lips twist into a wide, toothy smile, shoulders seemingly relaxing at the confirmation. His stance laxes, nodding his head of bouncy, golden curls towards the vehicle that's idling behind him. "Why don't we go ahead and get started?"

You nod, swallowing the thick lump forming in your throat, hardly maintaining eye contact with the instructor as you climb into the driver's seat and watch him awkwardly fit himself into the seat beside you. "Okay," He blows out a breath. "I'm Mr. Hemmings but you can just call me Luke, it's easier and nobody likes saying a long name especially if you're in a panic."

You barely manage a short, clipped laugh. "Rad. Anyway, we're gonna be in here for the next hour or so. I'm mainly here to make sure you understand vehicle safety and that you're prepared to operate this beauty on your own," With a laugh, Mr. Hemmings taps the dashboard with his palm. "Well, not this beauty obviously, but you get my point. Oh! And I have break pedals over here just in case. I haven't used them yet this month so please don't put us in a situation where I might need to."

He's funny, you'll admit. In a dorky, charming kind of way. He hasn't stopped smiling the entire time and you're curious if he's just that way in general or if it's a front because he probably deals with some right idiots when it comes to being an instructor. "You're quiet."

"Sorry," You mumble, hands still folded in your lap. "I'm just a bit nervous."

"There's really no need," he assures you, turning in his seat with an excited smile. "If you've passed your vision and knowledge tests then this is like, a cakewalk. Have you driven before?"

"Yeah, back home," You tell him. "Mostly just old trucks, though. I don't think I've ever driven a proper car."

"Cool, car virgin. I like that," Luke turns his attention back to the clipboard, scribbling something that you're unable to make out because it's complete chicken scratch. "Well, why don't we get going so we can stay on track."

"Okay," You breathe out, clasping the seatbelt over your lap. Under your breath, you rattle off the first steps of safety before your hands ever touch the steering wheel. Seatbelt, check. Rearview mirror, check. Side mirrors, check. When everything seems as it should, you rest one hand on the wheel before shifting the vehicle into drive, peering out of the passenger's side mirror to ensure no cars are coming up behind you in the lot.

Luke stays silent, observing you, pen hovering over his checklist sheet. As you head towards the exit, you realize you have absolutely no clue where you're meant to go. "Uhh-"

"Take a left here," Luke tells you. Signaling, you check both ways for any oncoming traffic before exiting the parking lot, keeping an eye on the speed limit signs posted on the side of the road. "And at the next light, hang a right. We'll follow that through downtown and then get you on the highway for a bit."

Nodding, you try to keep yourself composed and not let the nerves get to you as you follow his instruction. You make sure to slow down appropriately as you cruise through the city's downtown area, briefly taking in the brick buildings and shops as you pass.

The vehicle's air is a little stiff, a little warm underneath the summer sun and you're considering asking Luke if he can turn the air on but he's too busy drumming his fingertips along his bare thigh to really pay you any mind. You'd always heard that driving instructors were very observant, overly cautious and very strict about everything but Luke's so laid back it's slowly beginning to relieve your nerves.

"Would you mind turning on the air?" Luke asks, eyes soft and kind when you glance over at him. You're just trekking along behind other vehicles, following signs for the highway that's still a few miles out. It's probably one of the things on his checklist, for you to tinker with something and hope it doesn't distract you enough to cause any accidents.

Glancing at the various knobs, luckily they're standard and simple, similar to your father's truck so pressing two buttons quickly has cool air flowing into the car. You feel a little more at ease, less of an iron grip on the steering wheel. "You're doing great, by the way." Luke chimes in.

"Thanks," You keep an eye on the Jeep that keeps randomly breaking in front of you, easing off of the accelerator when applicable. You weren't a newbie when it came to driving itself, just following the actual road laws and learning the flow of traffic. "I need to turn right up here?" You ask.

Luke hums with a nod. He's began muttering some tune under his breath along with his finger-drumming, as if he isn't remotely worried about you merging onto the highway. Picking up speed, you join alongside the few cars rumbling along the road. "We'll take this to the next town over, about thirty minutes, then we'll head back and do a few simple maneuvers and that's it."

You nod, fighting the urge to sigh. Who knew your road test would be so boring? There's no music, just the sound of your tires on the asphalt and Luke's low humming. "Why'd you decide to become an instructor? Isn't it- well, boring?"

A slow chuckle slips out of your instructor's mouth, elbow perched on the door, hand clasped against the side of his face. "It's not all boring, I swear. I just like helping people become confident drivers. You'd be surprised how many students I've had that are too terrified to even start the engine."

"You're pretty laid back, it's definitely making me less nervous," You laugh softly, keeping your eyes on the empty road. "Helps that you're not bad looking either."

Shit, you weren't meant to say that.

In your peripheral, you can see Luke squirm slightly in his seat, instantly worrying that you've made him uncomfortable. You're about to retract your statement and apologize but the grin that overtakes his pink lips stops you. "Thank you," he says honestly, his tone a little strained. "So are you. I mean, I wouldn't say not bad looking, you're pretty- like quite pretty- and okay, is it a little warm in here? Jeez."

You stifle a laugh at his nervous rambling. It's cute, kind of refreshing, too. But a weight settles in your stomach because no, you absolutely cannot think your driving instructor is cute. Doesn't that cross some kind of line? Break a rule? It has to. "So- are you uh.. getting your driver's license to.. drive to your boyfriend's house orr.."

Oh god, he's also pretty damn terrible at flirting. Normally, you'd find it cringey and a tad obnoxious but it's cute on him. Adorable, even, because he's definitely a handful of years older than you but he flusters so easily it makes your confidence soar.

There's nothing wrong with indulging in it, is there? It's not like you're gonna fuck him on the side of the highway or anything.

"No boyfriend," You keep a straight face, like you're intently focused on the billboards you pass by. "Or girlfriend." You tack on, just to see him flounder a little more.

"Oh- yeah, rad," Luke nods a few times. "That's- yeah, okay, cool."

God, he's so fucking cute. How'd you get so damn lucky to have him as an instructor?

Luke's tapping the window ledge aimlessly, almost looking uncomfortable but not with you, like something's gnawing at him. "Hey, can you pull off at this rest stop for a minute? I need to- uh- bathroom. Yeah."

"Sure." You signal off, slowing down as you near the small building, only a few cars scattered in the parking lot. Luke quickly unbuckles himself and slips out of the car, almost too fast for you to realize there's a tent in his shorts. Well, fuck.

You've never really been the hook-up type in the past, coming from such a small town there's slim pickings when you know everyone's faults. Only when your family would travel up to Mackinac Island or down to Kalamazoo to visit family would you end up fooling around with some local for an afternoon but that didn't happen very often.

Though the circumstances aren't ideal, there's obviously some kind of attraction on both sides. Probably just some silly short-term infatuation and who knows what's running through Luke's mind. But he's hot, there's no denying that, and guilt tugs at your chest because he's here to do a job and you're just being a massive distraction.

Luke returns about fifteen minutes later, a little flushed in the face but there's this look he's sporting that looks nothing short of pure bliss. You're not stupid, you can recognize a post-orgasm haze from a million miles away.

God, did he really get off in a public rest stop bathroom? What the hell was he so worked up over? You bite back any inappropriate questions lingering on your tongue as he buckles himself in and you merge back onto the highway.

Luke doesn't say a word until it's time to circle back. He's quiet, too quiet, thrumming his fingers against his knee in a rhythm you aren't able to recognize. You decide to go the exact speed limit, setting the cruise control and waiting for Luke to ask why you've done that but no such comment comes.

"You okay?" You finally ask. The two of you are trapped in here for at least another thirty minutes on the highway alone, then likely another twenty or thirty around town after that. The silence isn't deafening but it's making you a little uneasy.

"Me? Yeah- I'm great. Fantastic, actually. Why wouldn't I be? Nothing's wrong. Everything's peachy." The instructor rambles.

Something's definitely wrong. You're not a very confrontational person but you'd rather have whatever issue at hand out in the open than let it linger silently the remainder of your test. "Luke-"

As you're getting his attention, the car begins to splutter. Numerous lights illuminate the dashboard, a loud rumbling sound making the steering wheel shake beneath your hands. Immediately, Luke begins to press on the emergency instructor's breaks and with some guidance, he helps you pull off on the shoulder just as the engine dies.

Not believing the sight before you, you turn to Luke, who's equally as shocked and silent, both of your chests heaving. "What the hell?" You ask aloud.

"I have no clue," Luke says frantically. "The car's been running fine all day. There weren't any warning lights, were there?"

Truthfully, you don't remember. "I don't.. think so? All of them lit up before it crapped out."

"Shit," Luke curses lowly. "Let me see if I can figure out what's going on."

Luke slips out of the Camry, leaving his clipboard behind. You hear him yell, muffled, "Pop the hood!" And you do, after taking a second to find the button with your shaky fingers.

The longer Luke is beneath the hood the longer you worry. It's an early Thursday evening, on a fairly quiet highway, and the likelihood that some passerby is going to offer assistance is slim. Plus, tow trucks in this area only operate within a ten mile radius, so it's unlikely you'll find one for a reasonable price if the car is toast.

This is what you get for thinking he's cute, your brain tosses at you. You know it isn't true but it's kind of ironic, isn't it?

Luke slips back inside the car. "Well, one of the hoses broke," He sighs, digging through the pockets of his shorts in search of his cellphone. "So the car won't start even if we wanted it to. We'll have to call a tow truck."

"Of course this would happen during my driving exam," You sigh, eyes fluttering shut as a low, frustrated groan crawls up your throat. "Just my luck."

"I probably shouldn't include the fact that I have no service then, should I?"

Your eyes pry open. "What?" You ask, finding your phone and sure enough, no fucking signal. "Seriously? We're on the damn highway, not in the middle of the ocean!"

"Hey, we'll be fine," Luke rests his hand momentarily on your shoulder and you try to ignore the goosebumps rising on your skin. Sheepishly, he pulls it away. "I'll see if I can make an emergency call to highway patrol."

"Please do," You mumble weakly.

Your father would have a field day if he could see you. Barely a week into living away from them and you're stranded on the side of the highway with a hot driving instructor. What a joke.

With no luck, Luke groans, tossing his phone onto the dashboard. "My phone died," he says. "Can you call on yours?"

"Yeah," You dial using your phone's emergency function, only to be met with CALL FAILED in big letters. "How the hell can an emergency call fail?"

"Okay, well at least we've both probably eaten recently and I keep snacks in the trunk," You toss a glare towards the blonde, not finding his statement remotely relieving at all. "What? Teenagers get grumpy so I always have granola bars on hand."

"So we're stuck," You sigh softly. Luke nods, hands toying with one another. "Until I get signal or someone passing by takes pity on us."

"I'm sorry Y/N," Luke says quietly. "About- about all of this. I really had no idea, this car's never given me any problems."

"It's not your fault," You glance over at him, noticing his lower lip tucked between his teeth. "I'm gonna walk a bit and see if I can get signal, alright?"

"You shouldn't go alone," Luke says, a bit rushed. "I mean, not that you aren't capable or anything because I'm sure you are - female empowerment and all that I just- uh-"

"Just stay here," You say, a little clipped. You aren't upset with him, just the situation. "I'll be right back."

Luke swallows thickly, blue eyes wide. "Yes m'am."

You slip out of the car and begin walking along the shoulder, grass and gravel crunching beneath your feet, checking your cellphone every few seconds in hopes that a signal will appear. A big fat SOS stares back at you, practically mocking you.

After ten or so minutes, you aren't sure how far you've walked but you can't see the Camry anymore. You know it'll cool off soon as the sun begins to set and it'll be best if you're somewhere safe. Regretfully, you head back to the car to find Luke scribbling on his clipboard in the passenger seat.

"Nothing," You say, checking your phone once more, noticing it's been about thirty minutes since you've pulled off the road. "What're you drawing over there?"

"Just doodling," He says, showing you a mix of scribbles along the bottom of your driving checklist. "What else am I supposed to do? We're stuck for the time being."

"Yeah, you're right."

It's silent for a few minutes, aside from Luke's been inking the checklist. "We could.. play a game, maybe? Something to keep our minds off of.. y'know, the whole car breaking down thing."

"What kind of game?" You ask.

"Oh- uh, twenty questions?" Luke offers.

You snort. Twenty questions is for horny teenagers, not two almost-strangers stuck in a broken down vehicle on the side of the highway. "Guess that's a no."

"What about what are the odds?" You suggest. "I played it all the time with my soccer friends, it's pretty fun."

"Okay," Luke agrees. "You'll have to explain the rules to me, though."

You sit up a little straighter, a smile unknowingly tugging at your lips. Maybe there's an ulterior motive ping-ponging in the back of your mind. Maybe.

"It's really easy. One of us says something like 'what are the odds that you'll make an embarrassing noise', then pick a number in your head, and on the count of three we'll both say a number and if it's the same the other person has to do that thing. Make sense?"

"I think I've got it," Luke nods, turning in his seat with excited eyes. He looks fucking adorable. You shake your head, getting comfortable in the seat. "Okay, can I go first?"

"Go for it."

"Okay- uh, what are the odds that you'll.. you'll- tell me something about yourself?"

That's not quite it but a good start, Luke.

"One through fifteen." You say. "Three.. two... one.."

"Ten."

"Twelve."

"Ah, shit," Luke frowns. "I don't think I'm very good at this."

"You'll get the hang of it," You tap his knee with the back of your hand without a thought, watching his cheeks twinge pink. "I'll go. What are the odds you'll pass me?"

"One in.. ten," Luke says. "Three.. two.. one.."

"Six."

"Six."

"Aha!" You grin, victoriously. "See, I'm a mindreader."

"As if I'd flunk you," Luke rolls his eyes. "You're a good driver, Y/N. You need to be a little more confident but there's no way I'd fail you."

You need to be a little more confident. Sure, Luke was talking about driving but that doesn't mean you can't apply that statement to anything else, right?

"Alright, my turn," Luke rolls his lips in thought. "What are the odds that.. you'd be my friend on Facebook?"

"Facebook?" You ask, a brow raised. "Nobody uses Facebook anymore, Luke."

"I do," Luke defends softly, shoulders drawing inward. "Just play along, Y/N."

"Okay, fine," You laugh softly. "Uhh, one in ten. Three.. two.. one.."

"Four."

"Eight."

"Damn, looks like we won't be Facebook friends," You tease, the flush still bright and red and pretty on Luke's cheeks. He's so easy to fluster. You almost regret what you're about to say. "What are the odds you'll admit the real reason we stopped at the rest area?"

Luke's face falls. "I.." He glances away from you, clearly caught off guard and there's a stinging in your chest. You should've just kept your mouth shut, he didn't deserve to be called out like that.

"I'm so sorry, that was too far, I-"

"It's..okay," Luke lets out a wavering breath. "I feel really bad about that," Your brows furrow. "Look I- I think you're really pretty and this is so, so unprofessional of me but I uh- you said girlfriend and my mind just- went off on it's own. I'm sorry."

"Oh," Your mouth feels dry all of a sudden. "You were thinking of me with- oh."

Luke looks away, clearly embarrassed, a blush blooming down his neck. "I'm sorry, Y/N. It was really inappropriate and I shouldn't have."

"It's okay," You assure him. Luke looks like a kicked puppy, unsure as his eyes slowly meet yours, not quite believing you. "Seriously, it's fine. I- yeah, I'm also into girls. I don't blame you for your.. thoughts, or whatever."

Luke sucks in a sharp breath, like you've said something sinfully explicit. "I- maybe we should end the game here before I say something really stupid."

He isn't covert about it, covering his growing hard-on, beginning to tent his shorts. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, trailing along the inside of your lower lip. Fuck, you have quite the opportunity here and it would be a shame if you let it go to waste. Consensually, of course.

"You're thinking about me with a girl again, aren't you?" You boldly accuse, your eyes narrowing in a teasing manner, watching Luke's gentle blue eyes widen and mouth fall open. "It's okay if you are."

He's so.. submissive. You've never really explored the whole dynamic of positions like that but making your instructor blush and squirm makes you feel.. hot.

"Maybe," Luke's voice is small, soft, and you're loving every second of it. "Y/N, I-"

"What're you thinking about, Luke?" You ask, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the center console, your tone low. "Me kissing another girl, maybe? Getting all hot and bothered and messy and wet?"

A whimper crawls up his throat. "I- fuck."

You trail a finger along his thigh, tracing the leg of his shorts. "Maybe you'd just watch, huh?" You provoke him, watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah- I would.." His voice is weak, lips parting and soft little pants escaping them. He's so easy for it, you love it. The dominance rolling off of you in waves seems to come naturally and who are you to deny it? "Y/N.."

"What, Luke? What do you need?"

Need. Luke keens. "I.. can I.."

"You wanna touch yourself?" You ask.

"No.. you, please."

You hum. How can you say no, when he sounds so wrecked like that? "Think there's enough room for us in the back there?"

"Don't wanna.. move," Luke mumbles, eyes already glazed over. He's so far gone. "My lap?"

You won't toy with him anymore, not when he's offering to get you off. To touch you. God, his fingers are beautiful and long and you're dying to have them buried inside of you. "Yeah, 'kay." You puff out, watching Luke adjust himself properly and helping guide you to sit in his lap, your knees on either side of his hips.

It isn't ideal but it'll work. He works with shaky, excited hands to unfasten the button and zipper of your jean shorts before trailing his fingers along the waistline of your underwear. "Can I?" You nod, teeth sinking into your lower lip in anticipation.

Without hesitance, Luke dips his hand into the waistband, finding your damp heat with ease. His fingers curl around you, whimpering at the warmth before a finger slips inside of you, slick and velvety. "Oh- fuck."

"Luke," You moan out softly, clasping a hand on the instructor's shoulder. He carries a steady pace, sliding a second finger beside the first, brutally hard at the warmth coating his digits. "Fuck, feels so good."

"You're so wet," He mumbles, like he's surprised, peering up at your blissed out features. "Fuck, did I- did I do this to you?"

"Yes," Your hips shift greedily, making his fingers sink deeper into you. "You're just so.."

"So?" You can feel his breath against your collarbone through your shirt.

"So needy," You moan, rotating your hips, effectively riding Luke's fingers, like he's some kind of toy. "It's so hot, how hard you get so easily- I- fuck, there."

"Y/N," Luke pants against you, his free hand trailing up to your hip, holding tightly. "Wanna make you cum, please."

"Yeah?" You breathe out. "Gonna let me ride your fingers? Fuck myself until I cum?"

"Oh god," Luke trembles, his movements faltering but it doesn't matter, you're moving steadily and the more you shift the more his fingers hit that perfect spot. You can feel it in your toes, that you're close, but you need something else to get you there.

"Did you think about me?" You ask, a light sweat forming on your brow. "When you got off in the bathroom? Did you moan for me?"

"Yes," Luke admits in a whine. "Yes- fucking- came so hard, Y/N. Thought of you the whole time."

Just thinking about Luke, working his cock so quickly in his fist thinking about you is enough, warmth flooding your stomach as your orgasm rapidly approaches and you're releasing all over Luke's fingers. Like a fucking floodgate.

"Oh fuck," You hear him moan, fingers slowing as your hips come to a halt. "Fuck, Y/N."

Blissful and warm and flushed, Luke retracts his fingers from you, the digits glistening as he slips them into his mouth with needy, complacent hums. He looks more wrecked than you do.

"Can I- can I ride you?" You blurt.

Luke goes rigid. "What?"

"I wanna ride you," You reiterate. "I wanna fuck you, Luke. Can I?"

"You- yeah, fuck of course," Luke's eyes are blue and glassy and glazed and you aren't even sure how he's functioning right now. He hasn't even cum yet so- wait. "Just give me a minute.."

Curiously, you shift back a bit on his lap to see he's half-hard and there's an obvious damp patch on the front of his shorts. "Did you cum while you were touching me?"

Luke nods. "Sorry."

"Fuck that's so hot," You can't help it, fitting both hands beneath his jaw to tilt his head upward, capturing his lips easily with your own. He tastes like spearmint gum and flavored coffee, it's all you can think about when you feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip. That was too easy, you can already feel his dick fattening against your thigh again. "Do you have a condom?"

"In my wallet," Luke pants against your mouth. "I wasn't like- expecting this, by the way."

"Neither was I," You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Let me get my shorts off."

Car sex seems so hot in theory until you're caught up in the moment and you're stuck trying to take off clothing where it's just not possible. You manage to slip your shorts off, leaving your damp underwear on before claiming Luke's lap once again. The condom sits in the crevice between his thigh and hip, fly open and dick straining against the seam of his boxers.

"Get yourself ready for me," You tell him softly, your fingertips trailing along your lower abdomen, along the inside of your shirt to cup your breasts beneath your bra. Luke's in a trance, nearly swallowing his own tongue before nodding and barely wiggling his shorts and boxers down his hips. He slips the condom on, abandoning the foil packet god knows where, before stroking himself a few times with a gentle hiss. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

Luke squirms at that. "Thank you," he mutters. "Can I- are you ready?"

"So ready," He carefully aligns his hips with yours before slowly pressing inside, letting out tiny whimpers with every inch he sinks in. "Fuck."

"Y/N," Luke moans, eyes threatening to fall shut. His hands find your thighs, blunt nails digging into the soft skin there, hips threatening to rut upwards at the sheer warmth encasing his cock. It's immeasurable, how good you feel wrapped snugly around him.

"So good, Luke, you're doing so good," You praise gently, holding yourself upright with your hands on his broad shoulders. Once he's buried to the hilt, you slowly rock your hips in a circle, eliciting a short gasp from the blonde. "Such a good boy."

The simple phrase makes Luke choke on his own breath. "You're so warm," he mumbles, lips barely moving, chest rising and falling steadily. You rock your hips again. "Oh my god."

Luke isn't like the guys you've slept with before. He's sensitive and responsive and it's probably the hottest thing you've ever witnessed. It's like he's fighting the urge to give in. Slowly, you begin to bounce in his lap, testing the waters. Luke moans every time you sink down.

"Yeah?" You ask him after a particularly whiny moan falls from his mouth. "Feel good, Luke? Tell me. Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels so good," He babbles, a wheezy, whining mess every bounce you make. It's slick and wet and so fucking hot you know you'll cum again sometime soon. He's hitting all the right spots inside of you. It helps he's probably the biggest dick you've taken by far. "So good. Please don't stop, please."

"Not gonna stop," You mutter, nails sinking into the skin of his shoulders. "You're such a good boy, Luke. Taking it so well. Feel so good inside me."

Luke lets out a squeak when you clench around him. "Mommy-"

Your hips falter briefly but you can't stop, you refuse, because that word, though you've never been called that before it lights a flame inside of your stomach that makes you want more and more and more. "Yeah?" You abandon your grip on one of his shoulders to clasp his jaw, making Luke meet your eyes, his half lidded and cloudy and dark blue. "Gonna let mommy fuck you, Luke? Ride your cock until she cums?"

Luke bites down on his lower lip so hard he swears he can taste blood. His head is swirling, like yours, all fuzzy and fucked dumb. Your pace grows quicker, a bit more focused but frenzied, until Luke's panting to the point where he's babbling words that don't even make any sense. "Gonna- please- need-"

"What, Luke? What do you need?" You ask, ghosting your lips over his own. He whimpers against your mouth.

"Wanna cum, mommy. Can I?"

"Yeah baby," You press a hard kiss to his mouth, pushing your tongue past his lips and that's all he needs, gripping your thighs tightly until he's fully inside of you before releasing into the condom. Luke slumps slightly, clearly spent but you're far from finished. "Stay still, won't you?"

"What-" Luke mutters, flushed and confused when you begin to raise your hips and sink back down on him. "Oh fuck me."

"So close, Luke," He isn't softening in the slightest. It almost makes you smile, makes you proud because he's so turned on, just letting you use him like some kind of fuck toy. "Touch me?"

Luke nods, blissed out, attaching his thumb to your clit and rubbing furious, hard circles. Your thighs tremble as your orgasm builds up, toes curling inside of your shoes before finally letting go and releasing all over his length.

Shuddering through the warmth spreading up the base of your spine, your nails sink into the instructor's shoulders, panting against his mouth as he tips his head up to connect your lips in a soft kiss. Your skin feels tingly in the best way, electric, and your head swarming furiously.

Luke pulls away first. He's so flushed, from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck and you're positive that pretty pink blush has reached his naval, there's no doubt. He's definitely a full-body blusher. "Y/N.."

"Yeah?" You ask quietly, breathless, noticing the windows have fogged up a little bit from your activities.

"Can you.. sorry, it's just uh- the condom's a bit uncomfortable." The blonde grimaces apologetically, reddening further when you muffle out a short laugh and slowly climb off of him. Your underwear are soaked, from your own release, but you slide your shorts back on anyways as Luke ties off the condom and places it hesitantly on the floorboard.

Now that the two of you are dressed, less short on breath, you figure it might be best to address what the hell just happened. "Luke-"

"Y/N-"

"Sorry, go ahead," You mumble.

"I wasn't- planning that. Or, expecting it, I swear," Luke says rather quickly, eyes flitting away from you, a bit embarrassed. "Please don't think I make a habit of this. You're- you're the first."

You swallow harshly. "The first?"

A nervous, awkward laugh tumbles out of Luke's mouth. "No, no, that was a girlfriend in high school. I mean- uh- student."

"Oh," You puff out a relieved breath, resting your head back. You're still warm and relaxed from your orgasms. "Well in that case, I don't really sleep with driving instructors, so I guess it's a first for both of us."

"It's not.." Luke trails off, his voice low, like he isn't sure how to phrase what he's thinking. "It won't be the only time, will it?"

That comes as a bit of a surprise to you. Again, you weren't really the hook-up type but the guys you have hooked up with in the past were quick to forget it even happened and move on with their lives.

You're stunned into a short silence. Will that be the only time you hook up with Luke? Sure, he's funny, and insanely attractive, but aside from the few things you've shared during the drive he's still almost a complete stranger.

"I understand," Luke quietly says.

"No I- sorry, I was just- surprised," You say. "I'd like to see you again. Maybe not in a broken down car on the side of the highway."

Luke chuckles briefly. "Okay, cool," The tension seems to slip from his shoulders. "Sorry, I'm not really good at this. I don't really uh- date? Just, with work and everything it's hard to find the time."

"Being a driving instructor is that demanding?" You inquire, a lighthearted teasing lift to your voice. The highway is still dead silent and the sun is slowly beginning to set. Soon, you'll be cast in a hue of pinks and oranges and pretty purples.

"I race for a living," Luke says, catching your attention abruptly, your brows furrowing in confusion. "It's not something I really bring up in conversation or during uh- other things."

"You're not like, a Nascar driver or something, right?" You joke. Luke stays silent. "What the fuck?"

Way to go, Y/N. Fucking a driving instructor slash Nascar driver. Your parents would be so proud. Stupid girl.

"Like I said, I don't really tell people," Luke quickly defends, swallowing as an anxious look perturbs his features. "This doesn't uh- change anything right? About seeing me again?"

"No but if my dad finds out you're gonna be forced into every Sunday dinner until you're dead," You speak without thinking, still shocked about Luke's line of work. And here you were thinking he was just a dorky driving instructor for the state of Michigan. "Sorry, that was weird."

Luke laughs, shaking his head. He took your comment well, like too well, and you're starting to think maybe Luke isn't real at this point. He's too.. perfect. Handsome, dorky, a fucking racecar driver. "You're fine, I get it. Your dad's a big fan, then?"

"Huge," You sigh. "My brothers, too."

"You think they'd come to a race if I set aside some tickets?" Luke's teeth sink into his bottom lip, a hopeful look on his splotchy, pink face.

"I- I mean yeah," You stumble. "Luke, you really don't have to.."

"I want to," He reassures you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I really wanna see you again and if free tickets is the way I can then, I'd be dumb not to offer."

"For the record, I'd see you again regardless of the free tickets," You tell him, leaning to rest your elbows on the console. One of his eyebrows arch curiously, in a way that's so damn hot and Luke doesn't even realize it.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"Yeah," You confirm. "By the way-"

You're cut off by the chirping of a siren, glancing out of the rearview mirror to see a State Trooper has parked behind you, lights flashing.

Well fuck. This'll be fun.

#5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings imagine #5sos x reader #luke hemmings x reader #5sos smut #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x you

[julianalvarez9]

stranger / gavi

requested: no, but i got this idea a couple of days ago and i think it's what I needed to get off my writers block, fingers crossed 🥹

summary: you regretted accepting your bff's offer of being her plus one for a party you didn't even want to attend in the first place. but it brought you to him.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: not proofread. mention of a party, alcohol and the consumption of, don't talk to strangers you see on the sidewalk (?

you didn't even need to be there in the first place.

but your friend insisted that you hadn't moved to spain only for academic purposes, even if that's what you made your parents back at home believe. still, you weren't as drawn to parties as sofía was, and still, you found yourself right were she dragged you to be. some party held by a football club for winning a random trophy. that's what she had told you, only knowing half of it because her current fling, who was a player for the team, told her about it.

when you arrived there, though, you figured that it wasn't just some party held by a football club for winning a random trophy. it was a celebration for the entire barcelona fútbol club after winning the spanish super cup against none other than real madrid.

you couldn't say that it wasn't fun at first.

but being more on the introverted spectrum of social interactions, and not one to drink much, if even at all, made you grow tired of the environment very quickly. adding to the mix that your friend, the one who had begged you to come with her, had disappeared completely after seeing her man, you didn't have any reason to remain in this place. so that's how you started to make your way out, after finding your friend and her telling you it was okay, since she was already planning on leaving with this guy anyways -named pedri, or something like that, his name lost in the deafening music that filled the club.

making your way towards you car after exiting the overcrowded space you spent the last two hours in, you saw a guy seated on the sidewalk curb close to the back of your car, head hidden in his palms as he anxiously picked at his hair, yanking it from time to time.

"ei, ¿estás bien?" (hey, you're okay?) you said, not speaking too loud to avoid disrupting his already altered state, but you couldn't just left him there on his own devices. maybe he was too intoxicated and he might need your help, you thought. he just nodded, not making any efforts into lifting his eyes from the pavement below him. "puedo llamar a alguien que esté dentro si lo necesitas" (i can call someone from inside if you need it) you continued, not wanting to leave him alone in the middle of the night, even if you were sure that he could deal with it perfectly fine by his own. he nodded again, but this time, offering you a gentle smile that made you warm inside, and you flushed when you felt his attentive brown eyes reach your own.

assenting with your head, and not wanting to bother the handsome stranger you had just runned upon, you made your way onto the driver side of your car and unlocked it, ready to get home as soon as possible.

"espera, ¿me puedes sacar de aquí?" (wait, can you get me out of here?) the brown haired boy asked, now standing on his feet and a hopeful look in his eyes. "¿seguro?" (you're sure?) you asked, not totally convinced since you obviously didn't know him before your recent interaction, and not sure if he was aware of what he was asking. "sí" (yes) he answered rather quickly, nodding along. he reassured, a few seconds later, "me iría solo si tuviera mí licencia de conducir" (i'd leave alone if I had my driver's license).

"de nuevo, ¿cuántos años tienes?" (again, how old are you?)

"lo suficientemente mayor como para beber y tener mí licencia de conducir, solamente no me he molestado en obtenerla aún" (old enough to drink and have my driver's license, i just haven't bothered in getting it yet) he replied, bothered that you even had to ask him if he was legal of age. of course he was, he thought, almost rolling his eyes internally at the frequency in which he was picked upon, both on and off the pitch, due to him being so you. but you weren't obligated to know him, he remembered, figuring that you wouldn't have asked him that in the first place if you knew who he was.

he was taken out of his thoughts with another question coming from you. "¿y cómo llegaste hasta aquí?" (and how did you get here in the first place?) you said, smiling at the thought of him being driven around by his parents or something along the lines. he huffed, remembering why he had been strained in the first place. "pedri, un amigo, pero lo perdí hace un tiempo" (pedri, a friend, but I lost him a while ago).

you hummed, and unlocked the car to let both of you in. after all, it was still the middle of january, so it was safe to say the weather during the night wasn't as warm as you got to experience during the summer months. "¿estás seguro de irte con una completa desconocida? no sabes ni mí nombre" (are you sure you want to leave with a complete stranger? you don't even know my name) you asked again, buckling the seatbelt and tilting your head for him to do the same. he complied with your request, while answering for the hundredth time, "y tu no sabes el mío, así que estamos empatados. ¿ya podemos terminar con las preguntas?" (and you don't know mine, so we're even. can we finish with the questions now?) gavi asked, not yet annoyed but reaching that point rapidly. he was known for being a bit hotheaded, and while he didn't take proud in the fact, he recognised when his patience was running low.

the ride back to his destination was quick and easy, a bit of small conversation to prevent the silence from turning too awkward. you didn't want to overdo it, since you had asked too many questions already and you sensed that he wasn't the talkative type. at least not the first time you met. it was endearing, really, to have crossed paths with such a nice guy, not only on the outside -soft eyes and fluffy hair, almost the perfect combination for you-, but on the inside, soft spoken and attentive. you wished you had the chance to get to know him more, past the tiredness that clouded his sight and the shyness that was holding him back.

"has llegado a destino" (you've arrived at your destination) you joked, voice robotic like the lady that gave you indications through the electronic device. he giggled a bit, and you were thankful that he had found your bad joke funny. he was about to open the door, already body turned towards the door handle, when he retracted back. "¿puedo pedir algo más?" (can i ask for one more thing?) he muttered, and you nodded shily, figuring that he would ask you to not speak this with anyone else or to forget the address, if this was truly his house.

"¿me darías tu número?" (can i get your number?) gavi's cheeks flushed pink, and it would be the cutest sight if it was better illuminated, the lamp lighting up the street doing a poor job at brightening up his features. you timidly extended your hand for him to pass you his phone, and he quickly unlocked it and gave it to you, a tiny smile adorning his face while you were too occupied typing your number correctly.

going home from what you assumed was his place turned out to be quite quick, being closer to what you had expected. you were thankful, though, because your little adventure was already weighing in your sleepy eyes. you never got inside, took off your makeup and put on comfy clothes as quickly as you did tonight, but you were truly knackered. you were so tired you almost forgot to plug your phone to charge, and if it wasn't for the way the screen lightened up with a new notification, you would have forgotten about it.

#pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #gavi x you #gavi x y/n #football x y/n #football x reader #football imagine #football x you

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 4/2/2024

in which i try to clean two different boxes with varying success

new people: hello! the tuesdaypost is a weekly roundup of stuff i've been listening, reading, watching, playing, and making. it is NOT a recommendation series, although i sometimes dabble in critique. when im firing on all cylinders i ask "what is the core concept of this? does it succeed in what i think it's trying to do and what it says it's doing?is it well-made but i dislike it/beautiful but not for me? why? what parts Really Work?"

if you are into purity culture, yelling at other people about the problematic media they consume, or are under 18 i am going to have very little patience for you.

listening

now that i live in houston i am legally obliged to loop the new beyonce album 24/7. there is absolutely truly nobody fucking doing it like her. every song is a multimedia art piece. goddamn do i miss the album as a tool to convey a specific concept/listening order/flow. sometimes (chappell roan most recently comes to mind, although it does feel unfair to compare anyone to beyonce) every individual song is pretty good but the listening experience if you sit down and listen all the way through the album is unpleasant and choppy. not so here. NEVER here.

my favorite like Dance Number is YA YA (it samples nancy sinatra's boots! and the beach boys' good vibrations! wildly different tones despite coming out a year apart!)

the one that goes on four different character/tone playlists is BODYGUARD.

great early roundup of influences, samples, and collaborators. delighted to see five fingers for marseilles listed, a rocky but underrated south african neo-western free on tubi rn for americans

-

reading

also very texas-relevant with the recent pornhub lawsuits! pornhub and sex tech (among other things) have been samantha cole's beat for almost ten years. i trust her to report sensitively and not for like. shock clicks

this site has a free paywall (sign up with your email for a link to the full article) so bots have a harder time scraping articles: this is a journalist-founded site with only the four founders running it and writing articles. while annoying i do think this is a reasonable measure

The platform still has problems, but after years of critical reporting and a litany of legal and reputational consequences, Pornhub is now more heavily moderated than any other porn platform, and most major social media platforms, for that matter. A growing list of age verification laws has put Pornhub in a position where it is compelled to block access to its site in seven states and counting. In theory, these laws are designed to prevent children from being able to access pornography online. In reality, what is going to happen is that children are going to end up on pornographic sites that don’t care what the law says, and where some of the most harmful content that exists online is actively promoted to them.

she's also got a new limited series podcast with CBC about the rise and fall of pornhub, which was fascinating and kept me company during an extremely early morning drive

-

watching

i'm lukewarm about this one but i spend a lot of time getting there, much like this movie

ive been watching a lot of frankly dogshit thrillers, which has made me wonder: what's the deal with supervillans? where did they come from? and thence arrived at the prototypical film Dr Mabuse the Gambler (1922, dir. Lang). the four and a half hour cut on Kanopy is two normal-length movies superglued together, which makes sense as a streaming product but it is sort of a terrifying runtime and took me three days to get through.

sometimes, as we know, i get a real bee in my bonnet about visiting the early versions of things. dr mabuse is the blueprint for every james bond and mission impossible villain, or really any shadowy supervillain with power over [INDUSTRY] or [THE MARKET]. it is a four and a half hour long cat and mouse game through lavish, eccentric sets between mabuse and prosecutor wenk. it has some trouble sustaining itself bc it is four and a half hours long but does deliver on the cat and mouse aspects. this letterboxed review has interesting things to say about the political climate of 1922 germany and how lang subverts the formula of the pulp serial.

really the film opens with mabuse yelling at his cocaine-addicted assistant, but the film properly gets going with mabuse's henchmen stealing a trade agreement (nothing really carbon dates a movie more than a missing trade agreement. vanishingly few post-early-30s movies have missing trade agreements as plot points) and then he crashes the stock market. for fun and profit.

however. i think every time you see an evil man who is a banker or stockbroker or generally uses money as power you have to interrogate whether it's antisemitic. the answer here is "maybe" but i'm not sure if intent matters when contemporary nazi critics were eager to hold mabuse up as "this is the typical jewish criminal". (sorry about the link directly to wikipedia, it's been touch finding online sources for this section). mabuse is not specifically jewish, but there are certainly elements of stereotype. i am still not good at being presented with "this movie has a shadowy behind the scenes figure manipulating the government and all the money ever" and going "hey wait a minute".

after that tremendous glaring caveat, for which i read more contemporary reviews and reviews in general than i ever read for movies in these posts, is it good? eh. a contemporary VARIETY review remarked (and i largely agree)

The direction of Fritz Lang has moments – but Lang somewhat negates his good technical effects by twenty forty-word captions of a ludicrous unconciseness.

the night scenes are particularly well done, and imo are better than many modern night scenes--other contemporary reviews remarked

In this film the techniques of the film camera (Carl Hoffmann’s brilliant photography) are brought to perfection. The problem of how to film lit-up streets at night has been solved for the first time. It is unbelievably impressive to see the glaring lights of speeding cars flash through the night or the rapid passing of an elevated train of the initially blurred, then gradually focussed glimpse through a pair of opera glasses on to the variety stage, the nuances of light and shade—these things alone prove the value of film documentary.

look at this shit! filmed from within the cars! in 1922!!!

this film asks you to believe hypnotism is real and really effective, so i don't think it's that big of a leap when it asks you to believe in ghosts. i don't understand that quibble from contemporary viewers. there are several on screen suicides with like. specific methods. which is not currently regarded as good filmmaking practice. im curious to know what contemporary audiences thought but couldn't immediately turn anything up, and wading through masters’ theses on cinematic suicide is a little beyond my current mental health.

if i were a more content-minded woman this would turn into a clickbait video essay about the antisemitic origins of every supervillan. however i am unqualified and untalented at video editing and i'm sure there are forty theses on this already. this movie is a hard sell to anyone jewish or employed. it is also a stunning example of cutting-edge film technology and part of the genesis of the modern supervillan. Fritz Lang films tend to fall in the category of “movies i am happy to see once and feel no need to revisit”.

-

playing

playing what is effectively the same game three times back to back (breath of the wild, tears of the kingdom, genshin impact) has sort of burned me out on open world games with a focus on battle skill progression and stumbling across little puzzles in the overworld. i have to get itch.io up and running on this pc and find the most linear jankiest possible one-sitting indie thing. or several of them. i might try the solo ttrpg Gentleman Bandit i seem to have acquired in one of the giant charity bundles

brief breath of the wild update bc i don't want to pull screenshots off my switch: i have gotten to the boss fight for the gerudo and goron regions, have not completed them bc my focus in this game is NOT hearts, and am in the middle of the zora temple. despite the quality of life improvements and new regions in totk i think i prefer botw: progression is a bit easier, there are fewer mmo-style hub quests and repeatable quests. things like the stable photos are cute but very repetitive, so are the sign bracing puzzles, and the sky crystal quests for sky shrines feel VERY samey. also dislike how the CLEAR OUT: [REGION] quests with the monster suppression squads reset at the blood moon.

anyway! to genshin! there was an exceptionally fun little event with a surprisingly involved management sim tacked onto the game??? you make and sell potions fulfilling different requirements, and can eventually stock travelling merchants all over the continent. the actual act of making the potions was this block-filling 1010! style thing (screenshot from polygon)

the new region, a port town and tea-growing area called Chenyu Vale, is maybe the prettiest one in the game so far? it's the one that feels the most picturesque and Designed, like this is one huge mansion garden studded with follies. they also added background chatter and noise in the cities and towns, which really startled me and makes them feels much more lived in! this is a fun trick to avoid putting in a thousand NPCs and making everyone's framerate crash. the less stuff in your game, the less shit can go wrong.

also pulled for and got chiyori, a geo-aligned seamstress (and sometime spy???) swordswoman who has what i can only call domme voice

-

making

ok now we'll talk about boxes. i was rearranging my kitchen, as unemployed women are known to do, and noticed this recipe box i picked up back in mass was disgusting. the finish is starting to fail but it was genuinely grody and last summer i packed my kitchen in a blind panic inside an hour and did not have time to address it. i have never seen a recipe box at an estate sale before or since and it made me desperately sad.

it was full of a lot of stuff.

i went at it with a somewhat inadvisable combination of things: wood soap didn't budge it, so i dampened a paper towel in vinegar and wiped it down in the vain hope it would do something. the thing that worked, and would be inadvisable for anything veneered or less densely textured, was baking soda paste and the scrubby side of a sponge. it still smells Very musty even after 48h of loose baking soda inside with several changes, but that might be partly the recipe cards' fault. i would like to refinish this at some point but i don't have polyurethane on hand and the fun little project budget is empty until further notice/i get a job.

the hinge did rust a bit despite my best efforts but that has since been lightly steel wooled and oiled. a well loved object! it's possible the lady who died just fucking sucked and that's why literally her entire estate including many other things families usually keep was on sale, but i would like to think perhaps she simply had no other family? a well loved/used object even if all the recipes are for semi-horrifying fifties new england recipes.

the other box, pre-acids but post-washing: this topp trading card box with seven episode one packets of cards was intact with the original seal. i have verified it was not worth much more than the $5 i paid for it with the trading card obsessed man in my best friend's husband's friendgroup. i bought this three months ago but the man was unavailable to open it until uhhh last week. some sort of liquid got inside it at some point and it was super corroded. i was going to store embroidery floss in here but even with all my powers (barkeepers friend. brasso.) i cannot completely remove the corrosion. it's not corroded Through but it looks bad and feels rough. so it goes. it'll probably hold the tiedown straps in my car bc that plastic bucket is rapidly failing

#aaaaaaand we're back baybee!!! #tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #uncharacteristically nervous about this one since there are so many new people haha

[xappetites]

sort of a continuation of this w/Frank and fBell

Frank is no stranger to barbershop banter, he might not spend all that time in town, even when he’s home, but he’s been getting semi regular post-mission cuts here for long enough to be counted as a regular.

So he doesn’t really mind the ribbing, his barber poking fun at how he should let his hair grow out like the youngins do, and he’ll throw in a perm for free. That is until the grocer down the street, currently getting his beard trimmed, makes an off hand comment about Bell.

“Doesn’t seem like the missus would be a fan, though.”

And it isn’t like Frank’s fucking bothered, it’s just this is the first time he thinks of the situation with Bell —living in his house and sleeping in his bed, making his coffee and strong arming her way into paying at least the electricity bill— as something that might stick. And he needs a minute to sort through the ache in his chest.

A forfuckingever thing, instead of the vague suspicion that he won’t find her there when comes back stateside, the bracing himself for an empty house he’s been doing for the better part of two years now.

“What?” the barber stops, kills the trimmer even, so he can be heard loud and damn clear. “If you ain’t planning on marrying that pretty thing living with you, better break it to her soon then. She’s started raising chickens.”

“Not sure she’s the marrying type.”

It’s not a lie, Bell’s quicksilver in Frank’s mind, half a cool little stream after hoofing it across the jungle for days and half forest fire. The word ‘wife’ itself feels weird, no matter how many times he’s let her know that he loves her as he comes.

The barber drops it, thankfully, though he shakes his head at Frank like he’s the stupidest son of a bitch that’s graced his chair today.

But it distracts him, the whole fucking thing, nags at him like a mosquito bite in the crack of the ass. So he has to bring it up, and he’s sure he sounds annoyed as hell about it, because he is.

Bell laughs —easy, without mockery—, perched sidesaddle in his lap, because of course she does. This is why he preemptively imagines a world without her, practices losing her in his mind so it doesn’t kill him when it happens for real.

“You ever think about tying the knot?”

“I’m legally dead Frank, I don’t think I’m allowed to get married anymore.”

“But you would, if you could?”

“I’d walk my ass hand in hand with you into city hall tomorrow if I had a valid ID, love”

She kisses him to make her point, in that mesmerizing fucking way of hers, and she rides him half to death that night, fingers interlocked and mumbling his name like a prayer.

So Frank calls a guy, someone he trusts to take his payment and keep their mouth shut. An old CIA contact who minds their businesses.

And he thinks he could make it romantic, should probably; he just— can’t wait.

All he does in the end is slide the two cards over the table towards Bell one morning, as soon as they arrive. Valid, legal, forged by the best: a driver’s license and state ID for his best girl, with her name sitting pretty on them, joined by a simple, solid ‘Woods’.

To call her his wife still feels weird, but this is right. As right as her laughter, bright and so sudden it almost makes her choke on her coffee. Right as the way she fits in his arms, talking about rings and looking at him with eyes half closed, like she’s looking at the sun.

#m: cod #r: fluff #frank woods x bell #frank woods x reader #the man is a romantic! 🥹 #thought i had gotten these two out of my system but #love writing Frank’s pov cause i can pull out some absolutely unhinged turns of phrase

[averagewriter777]

Ghost and Doc (Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader)

Masterlist

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

(Chapter Seventeen) @calicokitkattkat… this is for you 🙂

Everyone was slightly confused as to why you were all going to America. Alejandro thought for a second he was going back to Mexico until you announced that if you wanted to see your daughter, Price said you needed to bring everyone along. Except for him, as he was breaking down very little intel that was given on the Hawk.

“So… wanna give us the breakdown?”

You nodded at Soap’s suggestion and closed the book you were reading, sighing heavily. “I’m divorced and have a child with someone. Said person, his name is Shawn, has custody of the child, her name is Kennedy, and I see her when I can. When we got back from Cancún, I’d gotten several- about a hundred messages saying that Kennedy had a seizure and is in a coma.” There were three intakes of breath, and you knew who they came from. “Shawn’s dumbass girlfriend, Kiara, left out a glass of vodka that was easily accessible for Kennedy. Children are curious creatures. Shawn and Kiara said they looked away for a second, and all of the vodka was gone and Kennedy was fine for… five minutes before she seized. My child is now in the hospital, in a coma.” “As for why y’all had to come along… Price said if I go home, y’all come with me just so we’re ready if any information about the Hawk comes up.”

Damn. Soap reached across the plane and clapped your shoulder reassuringly. “It’ll be alright, Doc. We’ll make sure to be on our best behavior when we get there.” There was something in his voice that told you ‘best behavior’ didn’t really mean that, but you didn’t care. You were going for legal reasons and for your daughter.

-

The plane landed on the small airbase in Fort Bragg. It was nice to ‘home’ in a sense, even if you’d only been gone less than a month… new record considering being in the military. You only wish it had been like this before… when you were in third group, maybe you would have seen your daughter grow up more.

“Before we step foot out of this plane… we can wear our uniforms to the hospital- because that’s just how it works… but the gear has to go.” The men blinked at you. “You can’t bring weapons into a hospital unless you’re a cop or you have a license to carry. Y’all aren’t even citizens of this country… so we’ll stop by my house first to drop stuff off so you don’t get into trouble when entering the hospital, okay?”

They all grumbled, but acknowledged that they understood. You breathed a sigh of relief then motioned for them to follow you. Your truck was still in the last place you had it. Since it’s legal in the state of North Carolina for people to ride in the bed of trucks, Gaz, Soap and Alejandro sat in bed with all the ‘luggage’ and gear while you and Ghost were in the front. (He’d called shotgun)

“Don’t worry, boys, my house is only like- fifteen minutes from here. Just- don’t show weapons please. I’d rather not get pulled over and have to explain to the military police what’s going on.” They mock saluted you and got in the bed of the truck, ready to hold onto their dear lives. “My driving isn’t that bad… sheesh.” You started the engine.

It scared your neighbors when you arrived, because they were out sitting on their porch with the baby and your truck’s engine wasn’t exactly quiet. There was also the added three men in full gear in the bed of the truck. Once you turned off your truck, you went straight over to assure the family that everything was okay. “It’s my new team, we’re stopping here before making a trip to the hospital.”

“Is everything alright?” Mary, the spouse of your neighbor who was also holding their baby asked. Worry crept across her face at the remark. “Don’t tell me it has to do with poor Kennedy…”

You nodded. “‘Fraid so. Shawn and his dumbass girlfriend left liquor out that was reachable to her. She drank it all and is in a coma.” Mary set a hand on her chest in surprise. “Yeah. I’m only back because of that, and the team had to come with. I was wondering, if it at all becomes an issue, if Kennedy could stay with you two?”

“Doc! The door is locked and this stuff’s heavy!” Gaz called from your side of the lawn. Ghost smacked his arm and mumbled that you were talking, and to give you a minute.

Mary nodded. “Of course! Kennedy is always welcome over here. You know our contact information, and I’ll let James know.” She grabbed your hand before you could leave, giving it a tight squeeze. “We’ll put Kennedy in our prayers for now, okay?”

It wasn’t that you couldn’t jog to the other side, but it was more of the distance being so short that you just walked. “Can’t I say hello to my neighbors, Gaz?” Said man looked down sheepishly at that, kicking at your wood porch. “And I was asking if her and her husband could take care of Kennedy… you know.” Everyone was silent, so they probably didn’t know. So you stuck your key into the hole and twisted it, opening the door wide. “Welcome to my humble abode, gentlemen.”

Everyone set their things down by the couch in the living room, observing the place you called home. One of the last things you thought was ever bringing a full team here… guess there were extenuating circumstances for this one.

“Bathroom’s down the hall to your right, guys. Umm… we’ll figure out sleeping arrangements when we get back from the hospital.” You ran a hand through your hair. “I’m gonna go change into something else, feel free to raid the kitchen or whatever. And please take off your gear.”

(Part Eighteen)

#john soap mactavish #ghost mw2 #mwii #kyle gaz garrick #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #captain price #alejandro vargas

[beardedmrbean]

Black gun owners are helping to shape the gun debate in Massachusetts, with Boston-area legislators expressing surprise and maybe a little frustration over the fact that many of their constituents are telling them to back down from their efforts to add more restrictions on the right to keep and bear arms. 

Bostonians, who have long faced tough hurdles to secure gun licenses compared to suburban peers, are pressing state lawmakers to ease those restrictions as new gun reform legislation advances on Beacon Hill this season. And, increasingly, the calls on behalf of expanding Second Amendment rights are coming from men and women of color who live in Dorchester and Mattapan. State Rep. Russell Holmes, who represents parts of both neighborhoods, says he is paying attention to their calls. “It’s a legal right they are asking for and I need to open my eyes to the fact that folks in my community feel their Second Amendment rights are being infringed upon,” said Holmes, who said he’s approached everywhere – even at church – about expanding gun rights. His colleague in the Fifth Suffolk district, Rep. Chris Worrell, said he’s been fielding similar calls from constituents in other parts of Dorchester and Roxbury that he represents. “Am I a gun person? No,” said Worrell. “I’m not a gun guy and don’t own a gun but there are a lot of people here in the neighborhood who want to exercise their Second Amendment rights and obtain a license and have not been able to.”

On today's Bearing Arms Cam & Co, newly-elected GOP committeewoman Dr. Elizabeth Hinds-Ferrick and Massachusetts firearms instructor Nolan Howard declared that it's getting harder for Democrats to ignore the pro-2A sentiment coming from a growing number of their constituents.

"Everyone's seeing what's going on around them. We've got immigrants coming in, and they're taking care of them instead of us, and a lot of people are feeling a little uneasy and thinking it's time to go get their license," Howard revealed, adding that he does see something of a generation split on the issue. 

"A lot of the older generation doesn't like it, including in my family, but I forced my sister to make my class. I told her 'hey, just get the license. You don't even need to get a gun right now, just get a license. God forbid something happens, you won't have to wait. You can just go to an FFL, wait for the background check, and there you go." 

Dr. Hinds-Ferrick is among the growing number of Bostonians who are applying for her LTC, which is required to both possess a gun in the home and carry in public. 

"My oldest son signed up the whole family," she shared. "We all went to the course on a Sunday. It's time for all of us to be responsible gun owners and get our license so we can protect ourselves and exercise our Second Amendment rights." 

 Hinds-Ferrick is hoping to use the Second Amendment as a means of Republican outreach to people of color, but both she and Nolan said they'd be thrilled to see Democrats embrace the right to keep and bear arms. They just don't see it happening anytime soon. 

"If you look at what's happening in Congress and around the country," Hinds-Ferrick said, "they're blaming the gun and not the person that is using the gun. The gun is an inanimate object, but they're trying to change the law to away our Second Amendment rights." 

Meanwhile, Hinds-Ferrick, Howard, and other Second Amendment supporters are trying to change the political environment in Massachusetts, and thanks to their efforts, Democrats are starting to feel the heat from their constituents. 

For lawmakers like Holmes, the incoming calls are ones he cannot ignore. “It’s an unusual request for me,” Holmes admits. “I’m saying, ‘When did this happen in the Black community because I have gun violence all up and down Blue Hill Avenue in my district.’ But these are friends and regular, real people, not crazy gun enthusiasts but real people that I know who say this is something they want to do…I’m not happy about it but I have to open my eyes to it.”

It remains to be seen if Holmes and other Democratic lawmakers will actually listen to what their constituents are saying. A conference committee is still working behind closed doors to craft a compromise gun control bill, and we have no idea when they'll have a draft that will be released to the public or what the bill will look like when it finally emerges from the committee room. 

Be sure to check out the entire conversation with Dr. Elizabeth Hinds-Ferrick and Nolan Howard in the video window below. I'm thrilled they could both join the show today, and I'm encouraged by their activism and outreach in one of the most hostile environments for our Second Amendment rights. Massachusetts has a long way to go before it's even close to truly recognizing the fundamental importance of our right to keep and bear arms, but Howard and Hinds-Ferrick are helping to move the needle in the right direction. 

#nunyas news #2a #Youtube

[transcending-chaos]

I always found it fascinating how a card game like Chaotic had such a long and fascinating history. From starting as a Danish trading card game popular in Demark in the 80s to being revised three times and having its name changed since its original inception to the card game, we all know today. To getting a cartoon show and an online game to being shut down and now being revived.

Even now more information about the show and card games cancellation just came to light in the form of a reddit post from two years ago stating that after the poster dug through some publicly posted earnings and investor calls during the time of Chaotic they found a coloration that the game was actually losing 4kids money during the 2008 recession and onwards and that it was the primary reason why it got cancelled and they couldn't find any trace of the 4kids/Bryan Gannon lawsuit.

Basically, 4kids wanted Chaotic to bring in between 20-30 million which it did but they were disappointed that it didn't exceed expectations. 4kids also wanted Chaotic to be on par with Yu-Gi-Oh and Pokémon without realizing that Konami had other divisions to make up the failings if Yu-Gi-Oh ever had any same as Pokémon has Nintendo and their divisions while 4kids only had Chaotic and a cartoon block.

To this day no one knows why 4kids/4licencing hanged on to Chaotic since they weren't doing anything with it, and they didn't want to sell it for some reason until either the licensed expired or until Bryan bought the license off of them.

I always assumed it was because 4Kids/4Licensing had some sort of legal battle with the other parties making claim to the IP; but I do not know the reality of what may have happened.

I know from growing up during that time period, the cards and products weren't anywhere. They didn't stay in stores long, and the scraps you did find were single packs, but nothing enough to make a functional deck. It stunk.

As a kid, I always wondered why this show acted like it had stuff you could get, because it just didn't exist in any of the shops, card/comic stores, or collectible places my brothers and I went to.

It was strange to see this thing I really loved just disappear, which is why I just poured so much of myself into the fandom -even especially if it was just a cringey mess.

#chaos speaks #thoughts on the show

[darthkieduss]

A Request of Generation Z from a Millennial Activist.

(If you know Lance Henriksen, please read this in his voice in your head. Best voice actor I’ve ever heard.)

This July 5, 2023, I will leave my twenties and enter my “Dirty Thirties” as my wife calls it.

As time goes on and I grow older, I have a message for the Generation Z. But not just a message, I will also have a request for them. For any “Zoomer” reading this, before I go on, please know this isn’t condescending or looking down on you. This is from one older comrade to the younger comrades. And I personally couldn’t be more proud of your generation TBH.

As 80s millennials enter their 40s and us 90s millennials enter our 30s, just know that unlike the generations that came before, most of us will NEVER forget who we are. We will always remember what it was like to be young. To be thrust into a world that was rigged against us. To crush on a girl in class that you had NO chance with. The senior home coming dance. Getting your driver’s license. Getting your first job. you know. But We also remember telling our parents thing they DIDN’T want to hear. Like coming out as gay or trans. Or not Christian anymore. Or coming out as a Socialist Catholic in my case. Yeah, my parents DID NOT like that. Point is we will always be young at heart. 

We are comrades united because we are fighting for the same cause. The fight you’re fighting now is the same one we stood for when we were teens and you were kids exploring Minecraft. (am I hip yet?) I remember going to pride parades as a straight ally at 21 in the months before Oberefell v. Hodges legalized same sex marriage in 2015. Though I couldn’t vote in 2008 (I was 15), we millennials made the huge turnout to elect the first black man into the White House. I remember getting tear gassed as an “old” 26 year old during the BLM protests.

Let me say as a millennial I am so proud of your generation, Zoomers. You’ve stepped to the mantle when called. In some cases, you’ve outshined us. That’s why I’m asking you, not to revere us millennials, but simply to remember us. Not because we were in the fight first, but because we’ve been in this fight so long and we’re just getting fucking started lol. Remember that unlike us when we were younger, you are not alone. We millennials were alone because we were the first to recognize the rot in the system made by the previous generations, especially the Boomers. But now y’all are coming of age and taking up the fight for our futures. You swell our ranks and I can’t thank you enough. One day as time goes on, we will take this country back. TOGETHER.

We stand with you.

The war against the system is not yet over. It’s only just begun. So as President Kennedy said in his inaugural address, “Let Us Begin.” But we’ve made some victories from 2008 to last years 22 midterms.

In 2020, Millennials and Gen Z united to kick Donald Trump out of the White House.

In 2019, millennials entered Congress for the first time. We Georgians elected the First Millennial to the United States Senate (Jon Ossoff) in 2020-21. And now Maxwell Frost has the honor of the being the first Gen Z in Congress in 2022.

We’ve suffered many losses, but we won the last two elections. These victories belong to each of us. Every man, women and child. Every person in every state.

Now as we take our first steps toward restoring what we lost, we must remember what it took to win. These weren’t victories by a single party, a single voting bloc or a even by a single generation. If this war has taught us anything, it is that we are at our strongest when we work together. And if we could put down our grievances to defeat something as evil as Donald Trump, imagine what we can achieve now that he is defeated. It will take time, but we can rebuild everything that was destroyed. Our homes. Our lives. Our economy and country. All of this and more.

Together we can build a future greater than any one of us could imagine. A future paid for by the sacrifices of those who fought, bled and even died alongside us. A future that many will never see.

And while we still have many challenges ahead of us, We can face them Together. And we will honor those who fell to give us that future.

That’s why I’m asking Gen Z as you come of age and take power, remember us. For we were your age once and one day you will were we are now. And one day, the Generation Alpha that my four nephews belong to will succeed you. For inspiration, look to yourself and your millennial brothers and sisters beside you.

We stand with you so stand with us.

Sincerely, a 1993 Millennial.

PS: please stop eating tide pods. at least cinnamon is meant to be eaten. JFC

#Gen Z #Generation Z #Millennials #90s Millennials #90s kid #1993 #Zoomers #Millennials and Zoomers #Generation Y #Comrades #Remember us #Long speech #Lance Henriksen

[lalka-laski]

When’s the last time you did an activity like a crossword or word search? Just a couple days ago! I haven't had the energy (mental or physical) to do any of my typical hobbies. So I bought an activity book for some short spurts of stimulation. They're pretty fun.

What holiday tradition do you find outdated or stupid? Just the whole idea that you owe someone time or energy "because they're family." I don't see the point in forced togetherness, especially if it usually ends in misery or drama!

What hairstyle (or hair color) looks ridiculous on just about everyone? A mullet, I guess. That's hard to pull off. But I think people these days wear them for the irony of it.

What food or drinks makes your teeth hurt? What a bizarre question. Sometimes tomato sauce makes my teeth and gums itch.

Are you old enough to gamble? What’s the last time you went into a casino (not necessarily to gamble)? I'm well past legal gambling age, but I've never been into it. I have too many other addictions and vices. But I was at a casino last year for a Killers show! It was a fun venue.

Is your wallet organized in any way or do you just throw stuff in there wherever? There are only a few cards in it, and no cash or anything else. So it's pretty easy to keep organized.

How far away is the bank you use from your house? Like a 3 minute drive.

Have you ever been to a shopping outlet (where all the stores have discounted merchandise)? When’s the last time you went? Did you buy anything? Yeah, I used to get such a thrill from places like that! I haven't been to one in a couple years though. And I couldn't tell you what I bought if my life depended on it.

The last restaurant you went to, what was their main cuisine (American, Japanese, what have you)? Mexican! One of my faves.

What do your sunglasses look like? I have about a half a million pairs.

Have you ever dealt with someone who defended what they were saying by simply stating they were a certain race or heritage so they were allowed to say whatever they were saying? How do you view people who do that? Yeah. I mean, you're allowed to make cheeky or even disparaging comments about your OWN community. The rules don't apply there. Unless your remarks come from a place of self-hatred, I guess. Then it gets more complicated.

Do you hate it when girls (or guys) enter stores with just a bathing suit on? I live in Rochester, New York so that's just not something I see here.

What type of jewelry do you or would you wear? I love rings, but thanks to pregnancy swelling, I can't wear them much anymore. I also love a good, dainty necklace. I went through a phase of hunting down vintage jewelry pieces a few months ago and I started a nice, small collection.

If you were to create a movie or TV show, what would the main plot be? I’d love to be the host of my own talk show.

Do you have difficulty reading long articles or books online or can you easily do that? No difficulty.

What’s the most common car you see driving around in your area? Do you often see out of state/country license plates? GIRL, beats me.

Give us a fact about yourself. I’m an ice cream fiend. I could (and pretty much do) eat it every day.

What is the most annoying commercial you’ve seen within the past few years? How about the most sexist? I'm sure I could think of some, but I'm blanking right now.

What makes you like your favorite animal? Give as much detail as possible. I love goats because they're cute, simple as that. And they remind me of one of my favorite childhood movies, The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I had a little stuffed Djali (Esmeralda's goat) growing up, and thus my affinity began.

What is your favorite type of game (card, board, roleplaying, whatever)? I love "parlor games" I think they're called.

[manleycollins]

Journal Entry #78 - First Deposition…Costing People Their Careers, Police Certifications, and Bar Licenses By Sending It Directly Back…My Balls and Spine (Backbone) Are Attached to Me!

JOURNAL ENTRY #78 Name: Manley M Collins Social Security Number: 5 7 9 – * * – 6 5 4 1 Date of Birth: 06/21 Place of Birth: Washington, District of Columbia Country of Birth: United States of America Date: April 6, 2024

TOPIC: First Deposition…Costing People Their Careers, Police Certifications, and Bar Licenses By Sending It Directly Back…My Balls and Spine (Backbone) Are Attached to Me!

I made my first deposition with Federal Express was on January 24, 2024. It was recorded by a court reporter and videographer. I met the corporate attorney Charles V. "Bud" Holmes for the first time unexpectedly. The conversation lasted for eight (8) hours with break. I did get my corporate lunch at Tatte with Bud paid by Federal Express. My application for criminal complaints were heard. Growing up, I was shielded too long from lying. All six out of fourteen defendants lied on March 27, 2024 and March 29, 2024. The Clerk-Magistrate for the Boston Municipal Court - East Boston dismissed their cases based on the length of time and the assumption Federal Express security camera system was working. This is how Massachusetts talk - First sentence is half truth. Second sentence is alternative truth. Third sentence is a butt-face lie. The bookstore books support the same ecosystem from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to Boston, Massachusetts.

Massachusetts chose to do blind and blond scenario on me. "Blind" means do not look up his information in the hardwire systems people use everyday or internet because it is a lie. "Blond" means just dumb do him anyway. Yes, I made all my court dates for the charge "Threat to commit a crime." I filed with the civil cases to courts so fast, sent it to the American Bar Association, Boston Bar Association, Mayor and Governor, and Massachusetts Commission Against Discrimination so fast that they regret the day they filed the charge by Massachusetts State Trooper Joseph A. Middleton (white male cop). I am on Pre-Trial Probation (90 days was completed), then a white male judge Richard Sinnott decides to extend it to year until 3/15/2025. If I got to behave, the legal community surrounding the charge have to behave too and remove all the UNETHICAL sht. The legal community tried to go for immunity for the sht they do. My civil case is being heard April 2024 at the John Moakley Courthouse in Courtroom 18 in United States District Court. Please do not think the charge is going to prevent me from defending myself. I always show up for my fights. Legal community did three major mistakes and errors - Maryland, New York, and now Massachusetts. Systemic racism at its best. Telling is my best friend and schizophrenia will get the rest.

I am a PHOENIX! (Firebird reducing everything to atoms)

Boston Housing Authority tried to get updated information with a new interviewer. I kept telling them that they did the wire from Citibank that caused the Citibank-NYPD-New York situation. Instead, they withdrew me from all the public housing list and subdized housing lists. I sent in two appeals to Boston Housing Authority to request to see the information system and information security that they are putting this information in. Guess what? No response.

I got my Massachusetts FlexCard on behalf of Blue Cross Blue Shield. I rejoined Planet Fitness. I had to downgrade first, then upgrade to the Black Card. I joined Weight Watchers too, and it was good to see some of my social networking community mainly women were on the program. I am still a group fitness instructor, doing Zumba, and track and field athlete.

I cooked so much food at my AirBnb. I gained a little weight, but since leaving the AirBnb, body is working to get the weight back down. The Boston Medical Center food pantry was giving me new foods I never seen before. My host educated me on how to do extensions in AirBnb.

I still was speaking with Coach Tommy at BCBS Learn to Live Programs. I completed the Resilience Program, went through the Depression program, and now working on Stress, Anxiety and Worry program. I have been 107 days enrolled in the CBT Learn to Live Programs.

I taught Zumba - My First Class routine. I subbed for several gym classes. My second routine is ready. I am moving forward with Zumba Core, Zumba Glutes, Zumba World Africa. I attended Beto's Livestream Zumba on February 3, 2024. It was fun and hilarious. I started my own Total Body Conditioning class. All my previous instructors and various sports were channeling through me. I have three different formats - running, stationary, and circuit. It is pretty fun and well attended. I registered for an upcoming Zumba Rhythms 2 session and Les Mills Initial Training. These are my four focus and core competencies in the sports and fitness world: Zumba (dance), Les Mills (athletic conditioning), Spinning/Cycling (bicycling), and Personal Training/Coaching/Athlete (bodybuilding/running). I am not going to do crazy like I did in the business and technology world.

I attended Epsilon Gamma Lambda Chapter of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity MLK Event at Boston University Computer Science Building. It was well attended on Saturday, January 13, 2024. I made some new friends. Never got a response from the chapter members via email or phone, but did meet some members during the event.

I met a new friend from one of the social media apps and we ate at The Blarney Stone in Dorchester / Fields Corner neighborhood. It was lunch time and it was a quiet environment. The food was good portions.

I attended Greater Boston Track Club Invitational at Harvard University Athletics Complex on January 21, 2024. It was a USATF sanctioned meet. It was packed with 900+ athletes and the stadium was full. I sat in the midst of the University of Massachusetts Boston track team coaches and parents.

I secured a new therapist who was a psychologist and accepted with BCBS. He is really good.

I missed the Boston Athletic Association 5K Registration.

I met my first application for criminal complaint - Collins v. Kyambade. I told my story. Kyambade's attorney and he lied about hitting me with his SUV stating I stopped, turned around, and jumped in front of his SUV while using a smartphone and waving him back and forth. The Clerk-Magistrate stated he was going to hold his decision until later. The decision came in the mail and the Clerk-Magistrate found no probable cause so no criminal complaint will be pursued. Progressive the insurance company is processing the insurance claim.

POST Commission still sending me letters stating my complaints against police officers are closed. I sent some of the complaints back through the courts.

Collins v SplitSpot - Case Management Conference was scheduled for Wednesday, February 7, 2024, but the courts entire information system were down at Edward W. Brooke Courthouse. However, I met Gillian Rose Crossman's attorney and I have never seen an attorney beg or argue without a judge to be let out a case. That was a first and he did get what he wanted because the Judge sent a handwritten decision through the mail restating what the attorney said. The next case management conference is scheduled in April 2024. I only have two defendants left.

I attended an ProQuest and Clarivate Web Science presentation. It was more awareness about the Clarivate project for ProQuest.

I attended the USATF Open New England Indoor Championships on February 18, 2024. I met some more athletes. It was a packed house of spectators and supporters at Harvard University Athletic Complex. My track team, Potomac Valley Track Club, went to Chicago, Illinois and won 1st place in combined points, 2nd place for the men, and 3rd place for the women.

I kept filling out McDonald's and Dunkin Donuts surveys. The NewtonX Community does send me some interesting surveys that gets me thinking about my own company initiatives. I got Google paid surveys late after it met its quota. I had to stop in the middle of the YouTube survey because I really was not getting any benefit from it.

I have Clover's Slice (Wells Fargo financial network) company interested in me for Outside Sales Representative. The opportunity sounds too good to be real, but I am thinking about my mental health on whether I want to take on the stress.

Collins v Piersanti application for criminal complaint was rescheduled because Piersanti's mail was returned from his attorney's office. I gave them his last Connecticut mailing address and it has been scheduled for April 2024.

I saw my primary care physician at Boston Medical Center for a follow up since I was taking PrEP. He did some additional physical techniques that have not been done in years. He also mentioned he rarely or never had a super healthy patient. My HIV test results came back NEGATIVE.

I met with Boston Medical Center Bridge Clinic again and we talked about all the current happenings. It was very interesting that the medication Latuda came up. I was able to get it. I told the nurse practioner that Caplyta was not going to approved by the insurance company. It took a minute to adjust to Latuda…however, waking up at 3am to 4am hungry is not a good sign, body temperature varies, and emotional rollercoaster. On the flip side, my Massachusetts General Hospital psychiatrist cancelled his appointment that was scheduled the next day.

I signed up for BCBS GeoBlue for international travel health insurance. It is expensive. I watched my Joel Osteen ministries. I also watched a fellow SCSU bulldog, Lowell James, preach the word. Social media unexpectedly bringing people I have not seen in decades across my feed. March Madness got me hyped in just watching the games and the upsets in men and women basketball. I did not make a March Madness bracket this year.

I stayed on Windows 10 operating system for a while because Windows 11 with bitlocker crashed my system. I upgraded to Windows 11 and the system build was without bitlocker. My applications and everything still works. I am still researching systems to host my enterprise and corporate applications and software plus electronic commerce.

I am still working with Massachusetts Vocational Rehabilitation Commission. I sent them the jobs I applied for USAJOBS - Federal Government IT Project Manager with CDC Program Manager with DHS Economist with FAA Computer Investigative Forensic Specialist with IRS Supervisory Health System Specialist with VHA Field Representative with US Census Bureau Research Engineer/Research Physical Scientist with USDA Remote Internship with Library of Congress

MassCareers - State Government Strategy Analyst Integrated Care Operations Manager Health Safety Net Policy Manager Project Manager 1 - Feasibility and Schematic Design IT Support Technician

City of Boston Careers - ICIMS - City Government Deputy Director of State Relations Career Counselor Community Relations Specialist Community Outreach Specialist

Corporate America Outside Sales Representative - Slice President/CEO - Salt Creek Capital

Independent Contractor Six months contract to hire Senior Sharepoint Developer with government contractors (SAIC and Fortitude Systems) for US Department of Transportation. Please note all government or corporate contract to hire positions, I was never hired, but let go or laidoff at the end of every term.

#manley marvell collins #massachusetts #boston #gym #fitness #dance #music #africa #bar #american bar association #boston bar association #zumba #les mills #legal #criminal #crime #workout #sports

[marriageregistration3748]

This is why your marriage certificate is so important

There are many things you might be thinking about when the official date is set. may seem long but it is important to have all the necessary legal documentation completed before you get married. It is important to get your marriage certificate before you tie the knot. Sean Koski, cofounder and Florida-based company founder, said that the marriage permit is more than a paper document. "Without it, isn’t permitted to marry you." "Even though you have your marriage licence executed, you may lose it or misplaced it before your big day. You can only beg the officiant for mercy or postpone it so you only have the celebration."

Talk about a couple’s worst nightmare. Now, take a deep breathe and remember that every married couple has made it possible to have this completed in a reasonable time frame before their wedding. Both you and your fiancé will.

What is a Marriage License and Why is it Important?

"A marriage license is legal documentation that confirms the marriage as a legal union. Ashley Bourque, a wedding coordinator at, states that it must be signed by the bride and groom as well as officiant and witnesses. "Couples will need one to be acknowledged by the state as legally married. This can be useful for banking. I created a FAQ Sheet that I sent to my brides. It included the clerk's name and number as well as a list containing documents and the deadlines. The government will not sanction your marriage if you don't have a license to marry. A valid, signed license is required to obtain a marriage certificate.

When should your marriage license be obtained?

This will depend on whether the couple is getting married in their home state, another state, or elsewhere in the country. Koski suggests checking the requirements for your state's marriage license. Each state has its own set of rules and waiting periods. Lindsey Nickel says, "Ensure you do your research a few weeks in advance." Making a reservation in advance will help you avoid long lines. A few officiants might ask couples to sign the marriage licence at the ceremony rehearsal. That's a great idea, as it will take one less thing off your list to do on your wedding day. Your officiant will make sure that the state issues a marriage certification after the wedding.

What about destination weddings.

Planning a destination wedding abroad? There are many benefits to having your marriage certificate and knowing where you live before the ceremony. "You will know that all of your paperwork has been properly filed and you do not need to bring so many official documents along to foreign countries. Additionally, if documents are not in English in the country you're marrying, it will cost you extra to get them translated for legal purposes. These are just two examples of possible problems.

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Couples are seeking ways to reduce plastic waste on their wedding day. To help, we reached out to to ask wedding professionals for their suggestions on alternatives to single-use plastics at weddings.

Balloons

Skip these helium-filled decorations for your party and opt, instead, for . Our experts have found that large paper lanterns can still be used to add color and celebration flair.

Disposable plates and glasses. Flatware

You may find it tempting to purchase disposable products for your guests at special events like weddings and bachelor and/or bachelorette parties. However, this will lead to a lot more waste. Instead, consider . It is likely to be more expensive than disposables and take more upkeep, but it will be better for the planet.

The rental company that rents your tables and chairs may also provide a cloth option to plastic covers. As an added bonus, many companies will wash them for you.

Plastic Bar Cups

Ask your reception venue to if they will serve drinks in plastic cups. You can make barware and goblets from antiques and have your guests take them home for favors. Consider personalizing the glasses and having them decorated in a way that reflects your big-day theme.

Plastic Favors

It's not hard to see how many plastic favors will end up in a landfill. Instead of handing out plastic-wrapped gifts at your wedding, give them plantable options like seed packets.

Exit Toss Materials

Couples have elaborate plans for their night-end send-off. Traditionally, guests throw rice. But duos can offer anything from confetti and bubbles. Swap out any plastic for a biodegradable product, or birdseed. However, avoid rice as it can become squishy and negatively impact local avians.

Plastic Straws

These once ubiquitous garnishes are now prohibited in certain countries. If you're having your wedding somewhere that still allows them we recommend replacing the plastic ones by paper, stainless-steel, or silicone. Keep in mind that the venue will probably ask you to pay the cost of the alternative.

Foam-Anchored Floral Arrangements

Ask your florist for help in swapping arrangements that call for floral foam to be used with arrangements that don't need it. If you have your heart set on a centerpiece does well, ask your florist to use fillers (not foam) They can be reused such as glass beads, pebbles, and seashells.

Water Bottles

You might find it difficult to get water bottles around at parties, especially if they are part of a pre-nuptial celebration or casual engagement party. But there are plenty alternatives to plastic bottles. For smaller gatherings, you can fill a pitcher and provide cups for guests to use.

When is the best time for you to begin discussing marriage with your partner The conversation of marital status with your partner can seem daunting. Because your future together can be a serious topic. Although you may know that marriage is possible, when is the right moment to talk about it? Do you follow Hollywood and 's lead? Or, is it better to discuss the next step before it arrives

Christie Tcharkhoutian, a registered marriage and family therapist, and senior matchmaking specialist at, says that pop culture should not serve as your guiding light. This is because it forces the proposal, and any emotional work, onto one person (usually the person proposing).

Although a top secret proposal might be romantically appealing, the idea of proposing without having a conversation about marriage registration  is not ideal. Lesli Donares, a marriage coach, and author of, said that a proposal should never have come out of the blue.

According to experts, a proposal should be made only after an honest discussion about marriage and the future. The question remains: When can you have this discussion?

Wait Until Your Establish Commitment and Trust

Tcharkhoutian states that trust can lead to marriage talk. "In a relation, building trust through expressing your feelings to each other is crucial to feeling the love & respect that is needed in a lasting relationship," she said.

Once you have built trust and established commitment, then it's time to share that information. Tcharkhoutian states, "If one partner feels that they want to take that next stage, it's important for them to let the other know." "If not one of you feels ready, it's important for both parties to talk about what they feel ready to do. Or what steps are needed to reach a compromise at a location that is mutually beneficial to their relationship.

Before you move in together, talk about marriage

Doares states that it is not a good idea to move in with another person before you have had a chance to discuss the subject of marriage. Here's why. Feelings will get hurt if one person assumes the relationship is heading toward marriage and the other is only concerned with what could happen over a 12-month rental agreement.

Doares states that "the marriage-desiring partner might feel that the relationship will go this way, even though it may not." "This can cause unnecessary heartache and frustration. If you are cohabiting, it is more difficult to divorce. This means that the relationship can slip along without being what each partner wants.

Do not discuss marriage too soon

Doares warns against having the marriage conversation early, even if the two of you are in love from the beginning. She suggests that you should wait until "and are clear about both your goals and those for the relationship."

Doares believes there is one conversation that can be had very early: "If one individual wants to be married someday," Doares states. It's not a 'when will they get married' conversation, but the desire is expressed up front.

How to start the marriage conversation

Tcharkhoutian advises that you talk to your partner when you're ready. She suggests saying something along the lines of: "I have been reflecting on our relationship and believe that I would like for us to move forward together in the future, and I wanted you to share your thoughts about it and where are you at this moment."

This type of start offers your partner the chance to express themselves without feeling pressure. Charkhutian also says that it allows you to allow your partner to openly share your point of view.

3 Common Emotions You Will Feel in the First Month of Your Marriage. According to a Psychologist Once the euphoria surrounding your wedding has subsided you'll realize there's so much more to love about everyday. These first weeks and days of marriage are full of surprises. However, knowing what lies ahead will help you be prepared for new emotions.

Sadness and Deflation

The engagement period can be exciting! The engagement period is full of love, enthusiasm and support. Rebekah Montgomery, Ph.D., is a Boston-based psychotherapist who specializes both in relationships and . After the wedding, don't be surprised if you feel some whiplash. We call it the post-wedding blues.

Montgomery recommends that you make a list of exciting plans and put them on your calendar to combat the blues. You can have get-togethers with your friends, even if they aren't able to make it to the wedding. They will be eager to hear about it! It's a great way to get together with friends and to share your wedding gift ideas. Although you might have just received, there is nothing wrong with taking a trip or staying for a while.

Deeper Love and Pride

Montgomery claims that your relationship will change over the following weeks. You'll likely feel a new appreciation for your partner and the depth of your marriage. Montgomery states that your relationship will be different after marriage. "It might be after your first argument post-married when you realize neither you nor your partner are moving on, or when you feel that someone has become more than just your spouse. They will become your family, and you will feel proud that they are your spouse.

There's more time to appreciate the little things, even with all of the demands that wedding planning brings. Montgomery advises, "Revel In the Ordinary Intimacy of Your Life Together, and Always Keep Talking About Your Relationship, Love, And Commitment."

Tension about the Next

It's amazing how soon after your wedding, family, friends, or even colleagues start asking questions about personal life decisions. This could be big-picture items you hadn't considered. Montgomery said that pressure for the next major life event continues after marriage. Montgomery states that it is possible to feel pressured to get married, have children, or achieve any other goal.

She encourages you to face the questions, and to keep in touch with the time that is most convenient for you both. "Set your own pace, and remember that every stage of life together comes with its own gifts," she states. "Don't miss these opportunities!"

#marriage #marriagergistration #marriageacts

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Misread Details: Robert

CW: Dehumanizing language, BBU blanket warning, serial killer/death talk, descriptions of death/abduction/murder, blood, whumper death, some real vague implied noncon references, creepy whumper, sadistic whumper

Part One: Nanda | Part Two: Brute | Part Three: Robert

The Dark Discovery in Robert Weber’s Basement: Box Boy Killer, Part 3

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee

3 days ago

After Part One, where we learned about the mysterious, but possibly entirely natural, death of Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson, and Part Two, where we saw Henry “Brute” Hanlon’s double life lead to his untimely gruesome murder, you see the single thread that connects these two men who otherwise never met, interacted, or even shared a single person in common… a nameless Box Boy, present at the death of Nanda even if he isn’t responsible for it, and the proven killer of Brute.

It’s my theory that this Box Boy may have accidentally killed his legal owner, Nanda, and then picked up a taste for the act and moved on to taking shelter with those he turns into his victims.

With Brute, he simply didn’t know the man had a wife and children and entire other life, and may have assumed no one would come looking for him or recognize his death. With our third individual, Robert Weber, it seems like our Box Boy Serial Killer got in over his head.

I give you… the Accidental Vigilante death of Robert Weber.

You decide if our unknown killer is simply the unluckiest guy in the world or a killer who even now may be somewhere living with - and earning the trust of - his next victim.

-

One bright and sunny day in the quaint, old-fashioned California town of Rancher’s Rest, Robert Weber was late for work.

Weber worked in a vehicle repair business owned by lifelong “RR” resident Randy Niles, who had known Weber since his childhood and had been his boss since Weber was eighteen years old and fresh out of high school.

Niles, who is now nearly seventy-five and still spends his days in the shop with an Australian Shepherd named Cody and a blind pit bull named Sue keeping him company everywhere he goes, stated that Weber had no living family he knew of beyond his sister in Vermont, and he was just about the closest thing Weber had to a relative just from having known him so long.

“He didn’t have too much to do with his sister,” Randy said in an interview with Unsolved Mysteries. (You can see the interview on the new Netflix reboot of the show! It’s a really good episode, definitely recommend. It’s how I got into this case in the first place.) “Or nobody, really. Just us at work, the guys at the bar, that kinda thing. He was quiet, kept to himself really. You’d never just strike up a chat around town or anything. But he got on just fine with the boys here in the shop. He was a bit of an egghead, too, always going on about this thing or that he’d seen on the news. Little… odd. Little bit off, you might say. But really, who isn’t? In any case, you know, I’d known him since he was a little boy, so he was just Bobby Weber to me.”

Then, of course, one day Robert Weber didn’t show up to work. Randy Niles immediately felt that something was very wrong.

“When nine, nine-thirty came and went and he wasn’t there,” Niles said, “I knew someone needed to go check on him. Bobby showed up for work right on time or ten minutes early, rain or shine, for twenty years. My first thought was maybe he’d had an accident at home, or some kind of, you know, health thing. Almost never called in sick, took one vacation a year, that kinda thing. So I drove right on over there. This would’ve been, oh, probably ten or ten-fifteen when I got to the house. Had my dogs with me, and they never did like Bobby much, but as soon as I opened my door and got out of my truck they just lost their damn minds. Barking, growling, Cody’s hackles were up like you wouldn’t believe. I know it sounds damn crazy, but I’m sure those dogs could smell that evil had been done in that house.”

On camera, Niles goes quiet, here, his gaze slipping away from the interviewer as he scratches at the side of his nose. When he looks back, the hint of good humor that seems to be an eternal part of his expression is gone.

“I didn’t know what Bobby had been up to all this time. None of us knew. I’ve known Bobby Weber his whole life, and I… I had no idea.”

Randy Niles was unable to convince his two dogs to exit the truck, and eventually rolled down the windows to give them some air and a way out if they chose (he is insistent on this point in the Unsolved Mysteries episode - “don’t you dare say I left my dogs locked up in a truck on a sunny day, I sure didn’t - Cody even knows how to pull a door handle if it’s the right kind”) and got out to knock on Robert Weber’s front door.

No one answered.

Niles knocked again. Still no response.

The front door was locked, but Niles was able to locate an unlocked back door into the garage, where he found Weber’s car neatly parked and nothing out of place. However, once he used an interior door in the garage to enter Weber’s home, what he found was so shocking he still struggles to describe it today.

“The, uh. The first thing I saw,” Niles says in the Unsolved Mysteries episode, wiping at his mouth with a handkerchief, “was a cage. Big old cage in the living room. Like a kennel for a big dog, Great Dane or something, except… except, you know, kennels’re usually mostly wire, not that heavy. You can fold ‘em up, put ‘em away. This was… geez. This was pure metal. Bunch of blankets all piled at the bottom, too. Here’s the-... you know, my mind just didn’t want to even make the thought, but I just, I looked at it and-”

In the episode, Niles has to take another moment, here. His eyes grow wet, and his voice is hoarse when he speaks again. “People cage. Bobby had a damn man-sized cage in his living room. That’s when my stomach just fell out. Even then, though, I couldn’t-... I just thought, oh, well, what people get up to in their own homes is their business. But still, I just. I just decided, find Bobby, figure the rest out later. So I kept walking around looking for him.”

Randy Niles continued to call out, hoping to hear Weber’s response, but received none… at first. The radio in the kitchen was playing a local public radio station (“Bobby always hated the country western and classic rock we played at work, he was a big news man, big into classical, jazz, you know.”)

Niles noticed, he says, that the cage next to the couch had a wooden top, as though it were meant to act as a side table, and on that table was a small woven basket. Inside the basket appeared to be several State IDs and Driver’s licenses. Niles took note of this but his first assumption was maybe that Robert Weber had stolen some IDs or something.

Which was technically true, just… not quite the way he thought.

The kitchen, hallway, and all three bedrooms were equally empty of life. Every room was clean, everything neatly in place. Empty bottles of Jameson whiskey, Weber’s favorite brand, were lined up like décor along the mantel, and one half-full bottle was next to two clean, empty glasses on the kitchen table.

Even the beds were perfectly made.

The only thing missing was any sign of Robert Weber himself.

The question of Weber’s whereabouts was answered when Randy Niles heard a sound coming from the open door to Weber’s unfinished dirt basement.

“Like a ghost,” Niles said in his interview. “Just this low moaning sound. Hardly even thought of it as human, you know. But I just-... I called out, ‘Bobby? That you?’ and the moaning got a little louder, like whoever it was was tryin’ to answer. I could still hear my girls in the truck just going nuts, probably worried about me knowing what they maybe could smell even out there. I figured… I figured I’d best call the cops and get them out here. Seemed like a plan. So I picked up my phone and dialed, and then I headed down those basement steps.”

What Randy Niles discovered in Robert Weber’s basement was a dying man, battered and stabbed eight times, lying in a half-dug grave.

Robert Weber had been beaten with the very shovel that had done the digging. The shovel lay off to the side, caked in dirt and blood. Police would find some of Robert Weber’s hair on it, too. Then, the individual who had beaten him had gone back upstairs - blood smears were found on the railing to the stairs - and taken a kitchen knife out of the knife block on the countertop. A bloody fingerprint was found on the side of the knife block. They had then returned to the basement where Weber was stabbed, almost entirely through the stomach and chest, twenty-six times, until the cheap knife simply broke from the force.

Randy Niles admitted in his interview that he became very ill at this time. “From the shock,” He elaborated. “I haven’t been able to smell much since I was in a car wreck when I was young, so I didn’t smell what-... what my girls prob’ly smelled from outside, and what the cops smelled. To me, it was just… just a little off, is all. It was the sight of it that got to me, not the smell. The sight of the-... the hand.”

Behind Robert Weber’s body, the hand of another person was sticking up out of the loose dirt, as though someone was trying to dig their way out.

“I remember… I remember her nail polish was pink. That’s when I got sick, actually, was when I saw that hand with the painted nails. That’s when it just hit me all at once what Bobby had done.”

Randy Niles went back up the stairs and waited for the cops to arrive. Rancher’s Rest is a small town where everybody knows just about everybody else, and Niles was on a first-name basis with every single police officer he spoke to that day and in the days after. He would learn alongside the investigation that Robert Weber was not simply the quiet, intellectual car mechanic he had always seemed.

Instead, Robert Weber was a serial killer whose potential final victim had managed a miraculous, deadly escape.

Robert Weber never answered a single question about his own murder - he never fully regained consciousness and died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. His injuries were simply too severe. His autopsy showed that the cause of death was a stab wound that went deep into his chest and that he was first stabbed only after the beating with the shovel had taken place. Like Brute, most of his stab wounds were applied post-mortem in a rage rather than as part of the killing itself.

Medical examiners also found scratches on Weber’s face and arms, indicating that he had attempted to defend himself - or someone else had attempted to defend themself from him.

So why was Robert Weber killed, and why was there already a body in his basement? Investigators would piece together the story over the following days and weeks from a crime scene that only seemed to become darker and more baffling as time went on.

Excavating the basement was originally thought to be something that would be brief, but after the first body was removed, another one was found beneath it. Then another off to the side of that. And another, although this was simply bones.

Every time the forensics team thought they’d found the last human bone, they dug a little deeper or in a new spot and found more.

Eventually, the remains of twenty-two individuals would be removed from the basement of Robert Weber’s home, not including Weber himself. The oldest located victim was identified as Melinda Traxson, an Iowa woman reported missing by her family after she ran away in March of 1996… more than two decades before Robert Weber didn’t come to work one day.

Investigators are still working to match up every body with a missing persons’ case. For nearly all of them, the cause of death could not be easily ascertained due to the deterioration of the remains, but some showed signs of skull fractures. Identified individuals so far include:

Melinda Traxson, 19, from Iowa, ran away from home in 1996.

Billie Mortimer, 21, disappeared from a day out with friends at Lake Tahoe one year later in the summer of 1997. Her friends went to get lunch from the car after a swim and when they returned, she was gone.

Matthew Ranger, 22, went missing during a road trip to Yellowstone National Park in 1997 (only five months after Billie). His car was found abandoned by the side of the road with a flat tire.

Karl Janssen, 24, a tourist from the Netherlands who was also visiting Yellowstone, disappeared a month after Matthew. Last seen by an employee of the park who witnessed him speaking with another young man and getting into the man’s car. The employee said that the two seemed to be friendly with one another and did not seem like strangers.

Hannah Pointer, 26. She was reported missing in 1999 by her mother after failing to return home from work in Reno, Nevada. This disappearance occurred more than a year after Karl Janssen’s. Investigators would later discover that during this time period, Robert Weber dated a young woman from his hometown and he may not have wanted to risk her finding out what he was doing.

Isaac Jackson, 26, a Rancher’s Rest resident who disappeared after going out to a local bar to see his friend’s band play in 2000. His car was found submerged in a small pond two years later. This is the first time Weber apparently killed anyone close to home. He was actually briefly suspected in Jackson’s death, as he was the last person noted to see Jackson alive, but was cleared of suspicion at the time.

Dustin Swill, 21, who was driving from Colorado to California to visit his sister who had moved to Berras to work for WRU in 2001. He was last seen in a gas station near Yellowstone, where employees noted he spoke to a man who was smoking outside, who gave him a cigarette. When Swill left, employees saw the man put out his cigarette and leave shortly after. They did not find this unusual or noteworthy at the time.

Maria Vargas, 25, a Rancher’s Rest resident who was reported missing in 2002. Her family is intensely private and have shared few details about her, but it is known that her boyfriend at the time suspected Weber, who had attempted to convince her to leave the boyfriend for him and had apparently threatened her. He remained a suspect but there was never enough evidence to charge him.

Jennifer Striker, 28, from who never arrived for an appointment with a realtor in 2011. The long pause between Maria Vargas’s murder and Jennifer’s appeared to be due to Weber keeping a man named Finn Schneider within his home for more than a year after abducting him, as well as Weber serving five years in prison for a violent assault on a man he believed had sold him a defective vehicle. (Schneider was no longer in the home before the assault and prison time.)

Riley Nievelt, 25, was staying at the Big Meadow Campground with six friends during a weeklong vacation in 2012. She vanished while on a trip to purchase supplies. Her cell phone was found on the ground in the parking lot of the Food Lion in Rancher’s Rest, a short and easy drive away. At this time, with multiple individuals vanishing after being seen in Rancher’s Rest or being residents of the town, police begin to suspect and start hunting for a possible serial killer.

Alexander Peterson, 29, was a long-haul driver who vanished while working. He was last seen at a rest stop in 2014 on the California/Nevada state line, and would likely have passed right through Rancher’s Rest on his journey. He was reported missing by his ex-wife in South Dakota when he did not return as scheduled for a custodial visit.

The most recent victim, and owner of the hand that Randy Niles saw sticking up out of the dirt, was Yolanda Pierce, 26. She was a Rancher’s Rest resident with a troubled relationship with her husband, who had stormed out after an argument and was never seen again. She is believed to have died the same day as Robert Weber.

More remains exist but have not yet been identified. If you or anyone you know has a friend or family member who went missing during this time period in or near Rancher’s Rest, Yellowstone National Park, or Death Valley, it may be worth looking into, as those appear to be Robert Weber’s “hunting grounds”.

Disappearances in Yellowstone and Death Valley almost always matched up with Robert taking one of his rare weeklong vacations from work.

When investigators located three large diaries hidden inside a locked box in Weber’s closet, the first two fully filled up and the third nearly two-thirds finished, they found an exhaustively detailed record of Robert Weber’s crimes.

In these records, they discovered Weber’s first three victims were killed within 24 hours of abduction, with the rest being kept alive for longer and longer time periods. It is believed all of them met their end in Robert Weber’s basement.

Diary entries included records of two victims who were not a part of the bodies buried in Weber’s basement, both of whom may still be alive:

Finn Schneider, 19, a German tourist who disappeared in 2003 during a visit to Death Valley. Until Weber’s journals were found, it was believed he had perished in the park and had simply never been found. Robert Weber also visited Death Valley during this time. No one linked the two together. Evidence found in Weber’s home after his death, including the aforementioned diary entries and photographs, shows that Schneider was alive in Weber’s home for nearly sixteen months. It is believed Weber purchased the “human cage” that Randy Niles noticed around this time. The last diary entry that mentions Schneider states that he was “traded” on June 16th, 2005, to an individual only referred to as “Mouse.” What Weber received in exchange is unclear, but he was seen driving a new, custom-painted truck around this time, which he said he bought “from a personal ad” when asked by Niles about it. Schneider has never been found. However, his mother did receive a phone call in 2013 from an individual she believes to be her son, telling her that “Finn” was okay and to stop looking for him.

Our Box Boy, 334235, purchased by Nathaniel Benson years prior, whose whereabouts had been unknown since he murdered Brute Hanlon. Weber believed the Box Boy to be in his early twenties, according to his diary entries, and mentioned that he had picked the Boxie up hitchhiking and had intended to kill him before seeing the barcode on the inside of his left wrist and changing his mind. His diary suggests the Box Boy remained in his possession for roughly a fourteen months prior to Weber’s murder. Police have not released the details of what the Boxie was subjected to during this time, stating only that it is not the public’s interest for this information to be known, and they would like to locate the missing Boxie and interview him about certain details.

Four murders occurred during the time the Boxie was kept by Robert Weber. Weber noted that “the dog helped” with either murder or burial, suggesting that he may have worked as Weber’s accomplice in his terrible crimes.

Is it possible that they bonded over a shared urge to kill? Did the Boxie start a captive and become a companion?

Weber’s diary contained other disturbing facts, as well:

Weber also noted three failed abduction attempts in detail, in 1998, 2004, and 2017. In each he described with incredible precision of memory the appearances and descriptions of each person he failed to capture. He also appeared to do intensive research using their license plates and other information to find out where they lived and who they were. The names of these individuals have been kept quiet for privacy reasons.

Other failed abductions were noted, about one per year, without much detail. Or at least not enough for police officers to know who they were. Nearly all these failures were in one of three locations: Yellowstone National Park, Stanislaus National Forest and nearby campgrounds, and in or near Death Valley.

The last entry in Robert Weber’s diary was penned the day of his death.

NOTE: Weber referred to the Boxie as “the dog” in nearly all his journal entries. His last entry went:

May 6th, 20XX: The dog is pissed about something again. He’s always pissed about something. I think the thing in the basement probably kept him up all night with her caterwauling. He never gets used to the noises they make. God knows I can’t sleep either, at least not well. I’ll handle her tonight, have a drink with the dog after, see if that shuts up his nonsense for a while. Note: missed NPR interview with Senator Carlotta Grant on new leg. about the bb prohibition act. Find that on website later.

Found in Weber’s home, in boxes under his bed, were a series of restraints made of leather, high-quality items that appear to be custom-ordered to specific measurements. These included “gloves” intended to keep someone from being able to claw or scratch in their own defense, five sets of cuffs, a body harness, a leather half-face-mask that police referred to as a “muzzle”, several gags, some of which were deemed to be “designed to cause injury to the inside of the mouth”, and “other assorted items for use in torture and torment”.

You can find some leaked police docs online that go into more detail, but suffice to say they pretty much match the kinds of “toys” found in Nathaniel Benson and Brute Hanlon’s homes, too. And apparently, if you really know where to look, you can find some blurry low-quality photos Weber took, too.

While the items are a bit salacious, they aren’t entirely uncommon in consensual relationships, too, so it’s really not clear if they’re evidence of the Boxie being held against his will or not.

The investigation of the crime scene suggests that at some point after writing his final diary entry, Robert Weber made himself a pizza, which he ate half of and put the rest away in the fridge. His shaving cream and razor were found out on his sink, and Weber’s body was clean-shaven, suggesting he shaved shortly before his death.

He then watched three episodes of Law & Order: SVU. We know this because he texted during this time with his only living relative, the sister in Vermont. Little is known about Weber’s family and childhood, beyond his sister’s recounting of a quiet, strained home life with an overbearing mother and her mention that Robert endured several head injuries as a child and adolescent, including one that hospitalized him for days.

After he finished watching TV, Weber entered the basement and murdered Yolanda Pierce. It is believed he took the Box Boy downstairs with him, either as accomplice or witness. At some point while he was disposing of Yolanda Pierce’s remains, the Boxie became enraged for one reason or another, beat him with a shovel, got the kitchen knife from upstairs and stabbed him to death, and then left the house.

A neighbor remembers hearing odd noises around 3:30 AM and looking out their window to see a shadowy figure walking quickly down the road, but they weren’t able to see well enough to say whether or not the individual matches the description and WRU-provided photos of the Boxie. It does seem reasonable, though, to assume that the neighbor witnessed the Boxie fleeing the scene of the crime.

The Box Boy has never been seen again.

Police are pretty mum about the active investigation into the Box Boy’s whereabouts. I was able to get ahold of one source closely related to a member of the investigative team who said that there’s just not a lot of urgency. “Weber killed nearly two dozen people, just that we know of,” The source said. “The cops are a little bit ‘good riddance to bad rubbish’ about the situation. Unless the Boxie comes back to RR, they’re just inclined to let sleeping dogs lie.”

The sense of “let it be someone else’s problem” would be understandable… if this Box Boy weren’t responsible for one other direct murder, possibly two.

Police believe the Boxie has not left California, and is likely to be continuing to survive by engaging in prostitution or perhaps panhandling or some other hidden way of making money. Unconfirmed sightings have been located in three cities in central California, but all of these are unverified and should be taken with a grain of salt.

It’s also possible he hooked up with a pet liberation movement group, in which case he may be hiding out in a safehouse, protected from the consequences of his actions by the pet lib movement’s understandable insistence on total secrecy and anonymity for the Boxies they take in.

If he’s an innocent victim of circumstance, that’s fair.

If he’s a burgeoning serial killer with three victims under his belt and a taste for inflicting terrible violence on those who take him in… well… anyone who gives him shelter may be next.

Is our Boxie a purposeful killer or just supremely, almost incomprehensibly unlucky? Will he kill again? Was he Robert Weber’s accomplice or his victim?

Will he strike again?

Should there be an audit of WRU’s psychological testing on potential sign-ups to see if, perhaps, a Box Boy-wannabe with an urge to kill slipped through the cracks?

What do you think?

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @eatyourdamnpears @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @outofangband @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @oops-its-whump @endless-whump @cubeswhump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whumpiary

#whump #jameson bb #bbu #box boy universe #box boy #epistolary #epistolary fiction #epistolary writing #sadistic whumper #death talk tw #dead body tw #serial killer mention #description of dead body #implied noncon references #pet whump tw #dehumanization tw #dehumanizing language tw #creepy whumper #horror fiction #horror writing #horror #whumper death #god I want to write about Finn Schneider now #and what he's up to #he is absolutely still alive #whumpblr #whump writing #writeblr #original fiction #true crime fiction

[moral-turpitudes]

To the Moon:

A/N: Totes cried while writing this but it’s fine.

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Descriptions of Character Death, Drinking, Pregnancy, Cancer, Fluff, Grief, etc.

Word Count: 4,225 

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader x Anna Shelby (OC?/Daughter)

Request: “Hi this is my first request and it’s an angsty Tommy x Reader where the reader is an old flame and they didn’t work out but Thomas still loves the reader anyway, and she sends him a letter out of the blue. Apparently the reader got pregnant and had a kid but she’s really sick now and doesn’t want her kid in an orphanage. It could end in fluff but doesn’t have to.”

Requested by: @wierdestmoppet​

A/N: Get ready for some sad shit. I saw the request and this is what my mind jumped to lol. I wrote this to be set like around Season 1-ish btw.

Summary: Life and death have a way of revealing the truth within us, and it can cause things to happen at the most unexpected times. This is especially true for Thomas Shelby as he realizes not even he can stop death.

Part 1 | Part 2

“Dear Thomas,

How are you? It’s been a long while and I hope you and your family are doing okay. I know this may be out of the blue, but you know I’ve never been much for planning things. You also know that I prefer getting straight to the point, so disregard any smudged writing in advance. I’m trying to keep the tears at bay while writing this, but I figured I’d burn any bridges while I still can.

I know we parted in anger but I’d love to know if you’d forgive me for how I acted. When I left during the months after you had gotten back from France, every fiber in my being wanted to stay there with you, but I couldn’t. I had no one besides you and your family and it made me feel worse, like a burden. I was so scared you’d send me away if I told you then...so I made that decision for you and I know it destroyed you.

I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for that, and now of all times I’m sitting here wishing I could be back there in that dirt-covered town, walking by the cut with you just like old times...but I can’t, not in this life anyway.

It saddens me greatly to know I’ll never see your face again, but for the sake of time I’ll be blunt. A couple weeks after I left, call it karma if you will, I fell more ill and went to the doctor. When I left, my suspicions were confirmed. I was pregnant.

I fought the urge to call you though and I regret that to this day, but I’m writing this now to hopefully make up for it.

I had not been with anyone else the whole time you were deployed. But if you can think back, you’ll remember our time at the Garrison and how you’d brought me home. That night stuck with me for nine months, Thomas. I had a beautiful baby girl who I named Anna. And the best part is that she has your eyes.

With all that said, I know this is a lot to take in, but I have one dying wish. You see, I’ve been diagnosed with cancer and the doctors said I have only days left to live. I’m...I’m trying so hard not to cry because I don’t want to wake the poor girl, but I can’t go on much longer and she deserves a good life...One that I can’t give her. I’d love for her to not have to go to the orphanage, as it would break my heart. So I’m asking you to do probably one of the hardest things you’ve had to do in some time, my love. I’m asking if you’d be willing to take in our Anna?

I’ve always wanted her to meet her father, and I wanted to wait until she got older to do so...but it seems life had a way of throwing off those plans as you can see.

I just wanted to let you know in case a lovely little one year old shows up at the shop soon. I’ve sent my friend here in London to take her to you after I pass. I know you may not love me anymore Tom, but I hope that whatever love is still in your heart, you can give that to our daughter. And that you can also find a place in your heart for forgiveness, I know I have.

I’m not expecting anything else, but I truly wish you the best in life, both for you and the family. I’ll think of Anna and you when I sleep tonight. That’s about as close to being in heaven as I can think of.

With all my love,

Y/N Y/L/N”

Thomas set down the letter, hands shaking as he slid his finger over the dried ink that was smudged in various spots by her tears.

He sat there with his head in his hands, tears silently falling from his eyes as the memories came flooding back.

He had just gotten the business in line, and had a good thing going with his family. Even securing a legal betting license, but just as he’d known all his life, he couldn’t get his hopes up when it came to love. Every woman he’d ever loved seemed to have an expiration date, and this one tore him to the core.

As he sat there, the rain pattered on the windows of his office at the shop. The sound only fueling the rage inside him as he came to terms with the letter.

He had thought she’d moved because she found someone new or thought she’d gone off to find a job somewhere perhaps. But he didn’t expect this. After all, he still loved her. He was never good at showing it but he truly did love her and now she was being ripped from him without even getting to say goodbye.

He took a shot from his glass at his desk and threw it in frustration, shards exploding on the ground like tiny specs of glitter.

As he watched the shards shimmer in the dim light, he remembered the fancy envelope. Frantically picking it up and seeing a small picture hanging out of the corner that he must’ve missed before.

It was of Y/N holding Anna. Y/N had a weakened look to her as she sat on the steps of her apartment in a light green dress. It was her favorite color after all, and he knew that.

She had the brightest smile despite her frail state as well and it instantly caused him to smile too. When his eyes landed on his daughter it only grew and he felt his throat tighten as he cleared his throat, trying to keep his emotions at bay.

She indeed had his striking blue eyes though, and the beautiful color of her mother’s hair. With tears threatening to fall, he noticed she had her smile too, thanking whatever gods above that she didn’t get his toothy grin.

As he admired the picture, he remembered seeing the date and a phone number scribbled on the letter, her handwriting noticeably declining compared to when she used to write him long ago during the war.

Without a second thought, he called her number hoping she’d answer. His heart stopping for a moment as he heard static on the other end before it picked up, a faint voice saying “Y/L/N Residence.” in response.

“H-Hello, I’m sorry it’s late but this is Thomas Shelby. Is Y/N there?” He asked, his voice trembling as he wiped tears from his eyes.

“I never thought you’d call...” She said.

“You sound...different.” He said.

Y/N laughed, and he swore he could feel his heart pound at the faint sound of it.

“Death does that to ya.” She said, making light of the situation.

“Y/N...I-I got your letter. I know we don’t have much time...but I love you. I do. I-I love you so fucking much okay?” He said frantically, sitting down at his desk.

“I’m not dead yet.” She lightly chuckled.

“I know...just wanted to let you know I do love you, and that I forgive you. For everything.” He said quietly.

“I thought you’d moved on Tom...But I love to you too. I’m so sorry I’ve put you through this...” she said, breathing heavily.

“Don’t you worry sweetheart. You’ve done nothing wrong. I-uhm...I haven’t moved on. I could never move on from you, Y/N...” He said, her name on his tongue like a spark. He hadn’t said her name so often in ages.

“Did you get the picture?” She asked.

“Yes. You’re beautiful. Anna is too. Beautiful just like her mother.” He said, holding the picture in his hand.

“I was so excited when she opened her eyes. I’m so glad she has yours.” She said, her voice fading a bit as she reminisced.

“And I’m glad she has your smile my love. Can’t have her running around with a smile like mine aye?” He joked.

“Oh stop.” She chuckled.

He laughed lightly as she continued, her breathing audible over the phone.

“I’m happy the letter got to you when it did. I was trying to hold out for you both.” She said, her voice thickening as tears welled up in her eyes.

“I’m happy it did too. You’re the strongest woman I know. You know that right?” He said, wiping his own tears from his eyes as he heard her crying.

“I want our Anna to grow up strong too. Have you considered my offer?” She asked.

Thomas hesitated, his hands were shaking more than they had when first reading the letter.

“Yes. I-I don’t have a nursery yet, but I’ll be able to get things sorted in no time, alright love?” He said.

Y/N sighed with relief. “Good...you don’t know how happy that makes me. I’m...I’m holding her little hand right now. She’s got a firm grip just like her daddy.” She said, sniffling.

“Good. She can rough house with Finn when she’s older.” He said.

“Just...protect her Tommy. She’s so sweet. I love her so much...” She said, her voice weakening.

“I love you, to the moon and back you hear me? Is the nurse with you?” He asked, noticing her voice changing.

“Y-yes. My friend is too. Told her to bring Anna as soon as I go. I-I’m so scared Tom...” She said, her voice cracking as she cried.

“And I love you to the moon and back too sweetheart. I just wish I could have you here with me.” She continued.

“I know you’re scared Y/N. Just hold Anna’s little hand and listen to my voice...okay? Everything will be alright. I-I promise.” He said, his own voice cracking as more tears ran down his face.

“I’ll always protect our daughter. And I’ll tell her how much you meant to me and how much you loved her. I’ll always love you. Always, to the moon and back aye?” He said.

Her breath shallowed as she answered, the last of her strength fading as she spoke.

“I love you both. To the moon...and back.” She said, taking a final breath before her eyes closed and her body went slack, including the finger that her daughter was clutching onto while lying beside her in bed.

The line was silent as Tommy listened. His heart nearly broke when he heard Anna’s cries, and her friend and the nurse sniffling as they helped around the room.

“M-Mr. Shelby? This is the nurse. I know this is hard...but would you like her ashes or would you prefer her to have a traditional burial? She never got the chance to specify.”

He wiped his tears on his sleeve and looked out the window as the rain fell, the moon shining brightly as he gazed up.

“Traditional burial. She needs to be where she’s loved. My family will be in touch as soon as we can.” He said.

“Alright. We recommend doing it soon, tomorrow perhaps. Her friend just left with Anna and will be by your shop in the morning.” She said.

“Uhm...yeah tomorrow is fine. Bring Y/N to the fields and we’ll take care of the rest. I’ll be here at the shop when Anna gets here.” He said, his mind feeling like it was about to explode.

“Alright. I will see you tomorrow Mr. Shelby.” She said.

“Alright.” He whispered before hanging up the phone.

He frantically strode over to his whiskey stash, downing a good portion of it before he ran to the shops bathroom. The mixture of suddenly ingesting all that alcohol and his frazzled nerves taking its toll.

When he composed himself, he freshened up as best he could and splashed cold water over his face, trying to wash the memories and the rush of the alcohol away.

As he made his way back to his office, he thought to call everyone. Even if they were sleeping, this was the one time he truly needed everyone in the family.

“Polly? It’s me. I’m going to need uhm...a crib...and a funeral lined up in the fields. Can you bring the crib here to the shop? I-I guess I’ll need anything baby related.” He stammered.

“Holy mother...slow down please! What are you talking about?!” She asked tiredly through the phone.

“It’s Y/N...yes...her....she left me because she was pregnant and she had the baby and she’s mine. Her name is Anna and she’ll be here in the morning. Y/N she uhm...she died. I just talked to her as she passed alright? She ended up having fucking cancer. She wrote to me and...and it was her dying wish that I take care of Anna for her. I need everyone here. This is the one thing I can’t do alone, Poll.” He said frantically.

Polly stayed silent as she processed what was said, he could hear her sniffling as she spoke.

“Christ have mercy....I’ll call everyone in. You try to get some sleep even if you’re lying on the shop floors. You can’t take care of your daughter drunk like that. I can hear it in your voice.” She said before hanging up.

Polly quickly got ready, waking up little Finn and sadly explaining to him what happened. Together they gathered an old crib from when Ada stayed over with Karl a couple nights, and she found some baby food and diapers.

Next on her list was to call Ada as she had more things at the ready, and she and the rest of the blinders were just as shocked as the news rolled in.

2 hours had passed and Tommy had forced himself to lie down with his coat draped over him on his office floor. The half empty bottle of whiskey smashed to pieces from when he’d gotten off the phone with Polly.

His eyes were blood shot and moving rapidly under his closed eyelids, dreams of coming to save Y/N from the inevitable somehow threatening his mind as he watched her disappear like a ghost. His eyes flew open though as he heard the shop doors close. His tragic slumber interrupted further by numerous heavy boots on the floor.

He sat up slowly, trying to smooth out his hair and putting his coat on as the draft from the cool night air crept in through the creaky floors and window sills.

He sat there on the floor, not having the strength to get up as Polly and the rest of his blinder brothers came into the dark room.

“Tommy...Polly told us what’s happened. I’m so sorry...” Ada said, holding a large bag of everything baby related that she could find. Little Finn held a small crib and Polly had a blanket in her arms as well as a small bag of food.

“Everything was fine a couple hours ago, I was just ‘bout to go home then I saw the letter on my desk...” He said, wishing selfishly that he could turn back time.

“Look mate...we have your back. Just tell us what ya need done and we’ll do it. It’s a family meeting after all.” John said, nervously biting the toothpick in his mouth.

“I...I spoke with the nurse. She said they recommend having the funeral tomorrow. We’re having it in the field like we usually do. It’s what she would’ve wanted probably. I couldn’t let them burn her and stuff her in some urn. She deserves better. God damn it...” He said putting his head in his hands. He’d always been the one in control. He’d always had a solid plan, a solid mode of attack, but this was something he had no control over. Just as much as life had control over death. It was all out of his hands.

“I’ll go get Johnny Dogs and the Lee’s help with all that, you stay here Tom.” John said, kissing Esme goodbye as he went out into the night.

“Oi, brother do you want me to go with him? I promise I won’t do anything this time.” Arthur said, crouching down by his brother and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t care, as long as Anna gets here safely and as long as Y/N can have a decent place to be buried in. That’s all I’m on about now. Fuck the rivalries, for one day.” He said. It wasn’t like him to stop condoning a lot of violence, but perhaps this made him have a change of heart.

He glanced at the photo she sent him, his eyes glossing over as he held it in his shaking hands.

“She has my eyes.” He said, his own filling with tears that not many of his family had seen in so long.

“She’s beautiful.” Polly said, sitting by him on the floor. Little Finn helped set the crib down and Esme and Ada helped clean up the mess Tommy had made.

“She is...” he said.

Around 4 hours later, John and some of the Lee’s returned and told them they’d gotten everything set up and Tommy had met with the nurse. She was dressed in a black dress and a black coat, and holding a silver necklace with a light green stone in it. It was Y/N’s that Tommy had given her before he went off to war.

“She wanted you to keep this, to give to Anna...she thought maybe as an 18th birthday gift would be nice...” She said, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” He said, putting the necklace in his jacket, clasping the button on the small pocket so it was secure.

As the night blurred into the morning, Polly and Esme napped in the chairs as Tommy rested his head at his desk. Finn and the rest all finding places to doze off to in various corners of the shop.

As much as Thomas hated everyone sleeping uncomfortably, he knew it was good they were here. He needed the support whether his pride liked it or not.

It was around 6 am when the nurse arrived again, letting him know Y/N’s funeral things were all set up. And it wasn’t long after that a small car pulled up. A woman with blonde hair and a black dress getting out quickly as she reached for the little girl.

Her faint cries were heard as Thomas watched from the doorway, alert and ready to do what he had to do for the coming days, and eventually years.

“Hello Mr. Shelby. My name is Jess. I was a good friend of Y/N’s. Here’s your daughter. I hope she’ll be a comfort to you.” She said quickly as she handed her to him.

He nervously cradled her into his arm as she squirmed in defiance at first. The new person holding her making her only want her mother more.

“Hey...hey...shhh. It’s alright love. It’s okay. Daddy’s here. It’s okay.” He cooed, carefully swaying a bit as he held her. As she adjusted to her new surroundings, she gradually stopped crying, her bright blue eyes opening and landing on her fathers face. Tears were coating her cheeks as she looked up at him in silence, curiously as she took in the man holding her.

“It’s okay. I promise.” He said, gently wiping her tears as he carried her inside.

Polly and the girls gasped quietly so as not to startle her too much. But she cried nonetheless, the new people overwhelming her. Tommy cooed again and gave her his finger to hold, helping her out of her crying fit.

“You’re a natural Tommy. Must’ve been all the babysitting when we were little.” Ada said, as she watched her niece slowly stop crying.

“I can only hope so.” He said, looking down at his little girl. John and Arthur and the others came near as quietly as they could, watching as she had a death grip on Tommy’s finger.

“She’s a strong little bugger. Finn you’ll have to show her the ropes ya know.” Arthur said, Finn looked on curiously at his new niece and nodded.

“Not till she’s older. We have to protect her alright, Y/N will strike me down if we don’t.” Tommy said, smiling a bit as he wondered where her soul was now.

“How about we let you be? We’ve set everything up in your office, so it should suffice until later today when you can take her home. The funeral is at noon. So everyone get home and get ready and meet at the field.” Polly said, before patting Thomas’ shoulder. He was in shock at the nights events, but his daughter luckily helped him from spiraling too far down.

The hours leading up to the funeral were spent trying to feed and change her and having Polly come back early to show him the ropes. Anna was dressed in a small black dress and wrapped in the soft blanket Polly had brought, her cries echoing throughout the shop as everyone gathered their things.

“She’s gonna be a little hell-raiser, I already know.” Polly said.

“Good. Maybe she can take over this place someday aye?” Tommy said, placing his cap on as Polly nestled her into the car with her.

“If she wants to that is.” Polly said, closing the door and looking at the little bundle. Tommy started the car and drove off towards the fields, the bonfire sending smoke into the air upon their arrival.

Tommy stopped the car and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he sat there.

“Are you alright? We can take a minute if you need it Tom.” Polly asked, putting her hand in his shoulder.

He wiped a stray tear from his eye and ran a hand over his face before looking back at his little girl. Her eyes wandering over him as he sat there.

“No. I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine, we just have to say goodbye that’s all.” He said, getting out of the car and gently picking up Anna.

She protested at first, her eyes welling up with tears as she looked around, but they stopped once she saw her fathers face. He was grinning slightly at her and stroking her hair, trying to make sure she was alright.

“She’s okay. She’s probably bloody overwhelmed, poor thing. It’ll be like that for a while, but you can do this Thomas.” Polly said, walking towards the field.

“We can do this right Anna? We have to say bye to mummy alright? It’ll be okay my love.” He said, her cries stopping as he walked with her in his arms and towards the wagon and the bonfire.

The smoke invaded everyone’s lungs as the flames grew around the wagon. Everyone who knew her back when they dated coming together to say some nice words or to offer up small prayers.

Tommy couldn’t say anything, fearing he’d break down, but he stood there holding their daughter, throwing a rose towards the flames and silently thinking of her. Hoping she’d watch over them while she was up there.

As the ceremony ended, he wiped a stray tear away and carried the little girl around the remains of the fire, trying to think of a plan for their new life.

Anna mumbled as he sat with her on a nearby log, giving her rose petals to play with from one of the leftover bouquets.

“Those were your mums favorite.” He said, hearing her mumbling in baby babble.

“M-mama.” She said lightly, looking out at the fire. Thomas felt his throat closing as she said it, wishing nothing more than to bring her back.

“Yes love...Mama is gone but dads got ya now love. She loved you so much...” He said, tear running down his cheek as he kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him as he held her on his lap, still gripping his hand like a security blanket and smiling like Y/N.

Over the next couple months they both grew used to each other’s company. She was babbling more and not crying as much, but she could always sense something was missing. Thomas was home more now than he’d ever been, always keeping an eye on her and taking her to the shop when he’d go to work. Everyone loved her though, as they all took turns watching the little girl.

“She’s doing so well. I know Y/N would be proud, Tommy.” Ada said, patting his shoulder as he stood at the window, looking at the night sky.

“She would aye? I’m seeing more of Y/N in her each day. Only a matter of time before she takes Finn out though.” Tommy said smirking.

“I can’t wait to see that.” Ada said, slowly walking away to do her paperwork.

Tommy walked in his office to see Finn playing with her, giving her random toys as she sat up in a chair, and watching her throw them to the side as soon as she saw her father.

She smiled her little smile and threw her hands up towards him as he walked to her, crouching down and scooping her up as she giggled.

In the silence between them he’d often look up after the long day and see the moon, hoping Y/N would be looking back at them from up there, and he’d whisper to himself that they were alright, hoping in some way she’d know they were.

Tag List:

(If you’d like to be added/removed just shoot me an ask!) :)

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx, @lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore​

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[oh-mother-of-darkness]

Hello. I am, as you know, an American. I turned eighteen in 2014, voted in my first presidential election in 2016, and voted in my second presidential election last week via early voting in the state of Texas. 

I’m reflecting right now on the difference between those experiences. This is going to be a very self-indulgent essay. 

The 2016 election was in my third and final year of undergrad at Texas A&M University. At the time, I was living with a roommate who grew up in a town of 2,000, all of them members of her church. I loved her very much, but she was the most sheltered person I’ve ever met. 

I was only a few years ahead of her. My home growing up was deeply liberal about many of the things that counted, but deeply conservative on equally important things. For me, leaving for college was a radicalization speed-run.

I, a good Memphis girl, moved to Texas and encountered for the first time in my life white homogeny and everything that comes with it. I made most of my friends at A&M through a Christian orientation camp that I attended, then worked at. I went to school at a history department that was overwhelmingly male and war-obsessed. 

My second semester, I was randomly sorted into a writing seminar on the American Civil War and Reconstruction. There were eight other students in that class, all of them Texans. By day two I had gotten into a open fight with one of my classmates after he used the phrases “one of the humane parts of slavery” and “the secession declarations are moving and beautiful appeals, if you read them,” and “well I’m not going to criticize my own state.”

We got into at least one yelling match per week from that point forward. It was a formative experience for me-- not just him but the seven other students that took his side every time because they just couldn’t conceptualize anything outside of their own experiences, and frankly, I couldn’t either. 

It rocked my world to be surrounded by people who told me, among other things, that their high schools flew the Confederate battle flag or Lee was their all time role-model (because he actually didn’t want to secede! He didn’t believe in it, but Virginia did, so he put his own qualms aside and served his country, and that’s what we all have to do). I ran a survey once by knocking on every door in a dorm hall and asking the two people inside why the Civil War happened. 

I feel like you can guess the most common answer I got. Only two said slavery. Six didn’t know what the Civil War was. 

The last week of the semester, my class read a collection of recorded oral accounts of freed slaves during Reconstruction. My nemesis told me that he “didn’t realize black people actually had it bad.” At the same time, I was struggling with my sexuality, my relationship to my religion, my relationship with my parents, and a handful of newly-diagnosed but long-existing mental illnesses. I wasn’t having fun. 

Over the next three years, I tried my hardest to humanize the people that said disgusting things about minorities, poverty, and me personally. I barely won on that one, and I’m actually really proud that I did, even if it took me a few years. I can trace the biggest change in me directly to my nemesis from the history department, the kid that made me so mad that I started arguing back. I was too scared to do that before. 

By 2016, I was in full existential spin-out-- a very suddenly liberal kid fighting my whole family, all of my classmates, and most of my friends in an explosive political climate, the first I had ever participated in. 

I voted by Tennessee absentee ballot in 2016. On election night, I ordered takeout for me and my roommate, who I knew had voted red. Confident, like pretty much everybody, that Clinton would win, I was trying to show her that I didn’t hate her. She went to bed after dinner, also so certain that Clinton would win that she didn’t bother to stay up. 

I sat in front of my laptop sewing a birthday present for a friend (Kenza, actually), while the votes came in. I wasn’t super alarmed when the map turned red. I just figured the blue states hadn’t finished counting yet. 

The map didn’t get any bluer. By 1am, I knew what was about to happen. They called it an hour later, while I was sobbing on my floor. I threw up in the bathroom out of pure anxiety. I got two anonymous messages telling me the asker was going to commit suicide. Neither of them responded to my replies. I don’t actually know what happened to them. 

I remember riding the bus to class the next morning and distinctly seeing that most of the racial minorities there had swollen eyes from crying. The girl with the pride stickers all over her laptop didn’t show up that day, and I’m kind of glad she didn’t, considering the way some of our classmates in the back were loudly talking about “the gays.” Hope she’s okay.

My roommate came home completely unaware that Clinton lost. I was crying in my room when that happened. I remember showing her a demographic map of who voted which way. She got visibly upset when she figured out what races how. I think she really did feel guilty. 

That Thanksgiving, one of my cousins tweeted, “I can’t wait to go argue with my liberal cousin today. The wins. Keep. Coming,” an hour before he walked into my house. Inauguration day was January 20, 2017. I decided to go to law school a week later, the day the president signed the Muslim ban. That’s when I figured out for the first time just how much power the courts have. The last three years have only enforced that. 

I got angrier and angrier during law school, egged on by a few friends but more than anything just... finally conscious of exactly how the American system works and exactly who’s behind it. I still live in Texas, farther west now, and I’m working my first legal job. I’m going to be a licensed attorney next week. 

I went back and forth for months about how this election was going to shake out. I knew there wasn’t going to be an overwhelming red majority this time, but my big fear was an election close enough that the Supreme Court could take it. That fear doubled last month, at RBG’s death. 

I was hoping for a blue enough victory on election night that there wouldn’t be a week of uncertainty, but that was unlikely, and it didn’t happen. I obsessively refreshed my election map all of Wednesday and Thursday, aware that at least some states would flip after mail-in ballots came in, but unsure which would. 

Again, my great fear was a blue victory held down by only one state. Given (I would say “any” chance here, but I don’t mean “any” chance because genuinely jurisdiction or facts or legal merit don’t matter to the Supreme Court) an opportunity to make one (1) decision that hands over a red election, please know that a conservative supermajority would take it. I cannot emphasize enough how true that is and how important it is for all of us to grasp that. 

Watching Georgia flip was one of the best experiences of my life, and it’s a little hard for me to articulate why, but I’m going to give it a shot here. I’m southern. I’m from the South, and for this conversation it’s really important that I’m from Memphis, a black city and a center of black music and culture. 

When people think about the South, they think of the white South, and on some level, they should. It is absolutely essential to understand the white South in order to understand American history. Let me be 100% clear here. That is not a good thing. American majority history is not good. We are not a good country. 

It’s near-impossible to understand why that’s true without knowing exactly what happened in the white South and exactly what is still happening there now. With that, however, is another truth that most folks don’t get. 

The SouthTM is white and needs to die. The South as it actually exists is partially white yes, but it is also everyone else that lives here, particularly black folks. Southern culture is black, not white. Georgia flipped because the people that have always, always been there finally got to crack apart the conservative machine holding the South hostage. 

That’s amazing. It’s fucking mind-blowing. I watched it happen at 3:30 in the morning days after Election Day, and holy shit holy shit, Georgia flipped. Atlanta won. Holy fucking shit. 

I would be terrified right now if only Georgia flipped, because SCOTUS would have found a way to throw out a few thousand votes. Inevitable. Absolutely certain on that one. 

With a few states of buffer, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I really do think it’s over. 

I came home after work on Friday and immediately went to sleep because I hadn’t really done that since Tuesday. I woke up at noon today, checked the map, checked my messages, and saw what happened while I was gone. After that, I went back to bed until 5:30pm. I’m really just getting up now, after most of 24 hours asleep. 

I don’t know if I would say that I’m happy right now, but I am overwhelmingly relieved. I’m under no illusions that a Biden victory will solve everything, but I also do think this is a real thing to celebrate. I’ll take suggestions on how to celebrate right now, actually, since I’m finally awake. 

I’ll be angry forever, I think, but this is a good thing, and I’d like to enjoy it. If you’re happy right now, hey, tell me about it. I’ll be thrilled with you. I want to hear it. Congrats to all of us. Love y’all. 

#that's me rambling thanks and gig em #there are some things to tag here huh #uspol #politics #suicide #this would be a good time to remind everybody that i am white #so take that into account re: Georgia #personal i guess #not comics sorry

[a-crimson-lion]

Ultimatum: The Art of Lying In A Made Bed

(Or Why My Experience With Chapter 285 Is Contrary To Everyone Else's)

[Manga Spoilers Ahead. Also Opinions. Feel Free To Ignore.]

After Chapter 284, many fans were wondering how the story of BNHA would follow up on Katsuki's development. Now that Chapter 285 is officially out, fans are clamoring about Katsuki's latest acts of heroism, about how his arc is finally kicking it into high gear.

I'd be inclined to agree, but… you know how these things go.

[Heads up fans/stans, if you like Katsuki you might wanna bail. The word vomit that follows is pretty much incoherent and reflects my disaster of a thought process.]

I was looking forward to Chapter 285. I had my reservations on the execution of Chapter 284, but if the next chapter could follow it up and then some, I'd be pleasantly surprised. But then the leaks came out. And then the fan translation. And as of today, the official VIZ translation.

While everyone else is cheering for explosion boy, I'm just… done.

285 didn't get me to see how far Bakugo's journey has come. 285 didn't get me to finally root for him. And maybe I am making this decision prematurely, maybe I am missing something, but…

...the way things are going in the story I just- I just CAN'T root for him.

And I'm not saying the rest of you can't, if you're still reading. Katsuki is definitely a different person compared to Chapter 1, a better person, and he's definitely been heading on the up and up! If you can and want to support him, then by all means, go for it, don't let me stop you! It's just…

For me, chapter 284 was a wavering torch: a flicker of hope that sometimes dwindled, but was still there. Chapter 285 was the moment where I wanted to jump on the Katsuki Development Train, to finally gain some semblance of respect for him. But when I jumped, I landed on the tracks, and had to crawl back onto the platform.

I missed my chance to jump on that train. Whether it's because of previous circumstances or recent circumstances, I'll never know…

You probably wanna ask me at this point, "But Crimson, why DIDN'T Chapter 285 make you see the awe inspiring pinnacle of character development that is Katsuki Bakugo???"

To put it simply: it's a culmination thing.

For starters, there's a sort of… whiplash with Katsuki's development in the last few chapters. People like me will complain that Katsuki's development is too slow, in the case of the last 2-3 chapters, it feels like a switch was flipped, and now it's become too fast. Perhaps it's a me thing, but let me try to explain…

Shoto starts out as a standard background character. By the time he gets his spotlight in the Sports Festival, he comes off as reserved and antagonistic. After the whole "it's your power" moment, Shoto is finally able to accept the side he always hated. Then Katsuki fights Shoto, and we're shown he still needs time to grow; his left side comes with a lot of baggage he can't just brush off in the span of a single sparring match.

Fastforward to Hosu. Shoto's starting to take other people into better account. He's starting to learn to better control his fire. He's reconnected with his mother. His goal is no longer one-upping his old man; he has goals, people, that he wants to protect. He's coming into his own and wants others to do the same, like Tenya.

He joins the Katsuki Rescue Squad because, like Izuku, he had an opportunity to save Katsuki, didn't, and now he wants to make up for it. When we get to the Provisional License Exam, we're yet again slammed with the fact that his growth is still not done via Inasa, that there's still a bit of Endeavor he has to shake off, even if it was in the past. And he does progress towards that with the Remedial Course Arc. And while I have my opinions on the Endeavor Agency Arc, I'll admit that it was another development opportunity for Shoto and the Todoroki family. Shoto's growth comes with setbacks, but overall it's consistent.

Let's shift gears to Tenya, who's characterization I find fascinating. He starts out opposed to Izuku when they first meet at the Entrance Exam. He sees how Izuku is (for lack of a better phrase) "better qualified" at heroics thus far, reassesses his position, and apologizes whilst making amends. When Tenya resorts to LITERAL MURDER against Stain, the narrative does not let him go off without reprocussions. His arms are damaged, his supervisor's teaching license is revoked, and while he managed to avoid legal charges via police cover up, it still came close. Tenya listened to Stain's words, and opted to improve himself by that notion. He tries to set a better example, be a better class rep. It isn't a one and done.

Him lashing out during the Hideout Raid Arc is an offshoot of that. He doesn't deck Izuku just to be a dick; he's trying to knock some sense into him. They're so focused on Katsuki that they're forgetting about everyone else. Their friends, their teachers, their parents. If they f*** up like Tenya almost did at Hosu, they'll have hell to pay, and he doesn't want that. Of course, once they explain that combat/murder is not their M.O., Tenya tags along, if only to ensure the operation goes smoothly without this hitch. And again, Tenya keeps up. He looks after his classmates, looks after Izuku during the Shie Hassaikai arc. His growth is also consistent.

There are probably more characters I could elaborate on (Ochako, Momo, Eijiro, etc.), but I'll stop there. So, what's the deal with Katsuki's arc?

Well, it's… frustratingly back and forth.

It's one thing to have setbacks like Tenya and Shoto. It's something else entirely to have multiple setbacks and to keep trucking on with only abstract signs of development, but otherwise feeling like a very similar character compared to several chapters ago.

This is (in my opinion) Katsuki's problem. If we're going by what the manga stated, his arc technically started in Chapter 11: "Bakugo's Starting Line." But this is a rocky start. Izuku tells him about OFA right from the getgo out of guilt, but this neglects the fact that he's technically lying to everyone about it (including his new friends Ochako and Tenya), that OFA is a world-shattering secret, and that Katsuki is likely the worst person to tell this to considering that Izuku just handed Katsuki's ass to him and Katsuki was willing to use lethal force in their Trial. That aside, instead of say, sucking up his pride and opting to try and learn from everyone else, Katsuki doesn't really change strategies or approaches. He essentially does what he was planning to do since the start of UA; he's only crying because, SURPRISE, people are better than him. You'd think he'd expect that considering he called his middle school crappy…

After the USJ, once everyone had their "Lol Bakugo sux" moment on the bus ride, we get to the Sports Festival and everyone is clamoring to join Katsuki's team despite his apparent unapproachability. This feels less like something happened in the two weeks leading up to the Sports Festival, and more like history repeating itself from middle school. Moving on to the tournament, we don't even get to see how capable Katsuki is at serious combat. Two of his matches resort to Deus Ex Machina pulls, and the other two are in his corner by principle instead of difficult.

First off, Katsuki vs Ochako. I don't know why people praise this fight. For starters, it makes Katsuki HEAVILY OoC. Ochako is the only person he asks if she wants to back out before the match even starts. The ONLY person, which kinda undermines the whole "he didn't underestimate her" thing. Then he takes a reactionary stance the entire battle. Like, I thought we were still dealing with the "fist first" Katsuki. He does this to Eijiro, Fumikage, even Shoto, but Ochako? Stay still and then attack. Even if he did get his gravity removed, couldn't he just… propelly himself and let her have it. If he was proactive, he could have ended the fight quicker. Instead, he just plays sitting duck and headless chicken. If you're gonna have Katsuki win the fight, don't bulls*** it.

Which brings me to the final bit of that fight: the meteor shower. Having Katsuki blow that away after supposedly expending most of his energy earlier in the match just does NOT sit right. Ochako gets the upper hand, and then you just… negate that? You expect me to believe that Katsuki could generate an explosion at that magnitude, if nothing else? And what exactly does that do for him in the end? No one else tires him out for the remainder of the festival, which is pretty sketch.

(And yeah, I know I know "What part of her was frail?" but that's more of a retrospective thing than in the moment, coupled with the facf that it's never elaborated on again in any capacity, with Ochako or with someone else. It's a throwaway moment; a waste. Moving on…)

You really can't say much about the matchups with Eijiro and Fumikage. With Eijiro, it's an endurance match, and Katsuki apparently has infinite stamina and is on the attack. And he just… rushes him, which I'm pretty sure anyone else would do. Then with Fumikage, Dark Shadow is weak to light. Katsuki's explosions emit light on contact. Do the math.

And I am especially mad at Katsuki vs Shoto because one, he stays in place yet again at the start of the match, and two, he can apparently ignore his Quirk' weakness to low temperatures. In a gym uniform. Against a glacier the size of a building. Even with his power output, you don't see his explosions dampening in magnitude. It's obviously in his favor, which defeats any tension the fight could have had. It sucks, and in the long run, as a wise man once said, "Todoroki should have folded [his] ass."

Then we get to the Final Exams (ABOUT DAMN TIME) and… Katsuki hits Izuku for trying to cooperate, nearly gets knocked out once, and gets knocked out the second time around. He does not want to work with Izuku despite it being All Might, is petty enough to consider losing, and actively grumbles against working with Izuku. And all of his supposed self-preservation goes flying out the window when he's willing to try and beat All Might, leaving Izuku having to come and carry this boy out of the gate, which should not have let him pass.

Then there's the Training Camp attack. The second Izuku is mentioned, Katsuki decides to go AWOL, and while being kidnapped sucks, I am less sympathetic when you're boneheaded enough to help them capture you because you wanted to fight villains instead of getting to safety like the professionals recommended, all because of your one-sided hatefest with one of your classmates. Congrats, you played yourself.

Then we get to the Provisonal License Exam, which feels like a step in the right direction… until you realize this will boil over into Deku vs Kacchan 2, which will get both of them in trouble, which will give Katsuki insight into OFA while Izuku gets shunned by his classmates, and which will prevent Katsuki from the one ass beating that could have potentially taught him something. It's essentially the narrative covering his ass, and then he has the gall to be happy about other people potentially getting set back just because he was set back. Geez dude.

The Cultural Festival essentially undoes what the Remedial Course Arc accomplishes, having Katsuki look down on the rest of UA when he said NOT to look down on people earlier. And then his speech is still heavily antagonistic to the rest of the school, and to the idea of basic human decency and kindness in general. And if I'm being honest, that whole "he can play drums" feels like a big ass pull to keep him in the spotlight. At least the story brought back his ability to cook down the line.

The Joint Training Arc is just shoe horning in regards to Katsuki. It acts like his gearing up towards saving, but the circumstances are heavily, heavily in his favor, and not in a good way. I've already brought up how Katsuki won't get "saving" until the Endeavor Arc, and how here he's just doing it to show off, so I won't go into it here. Then apparently he gets to outwit a recommendation student 'cause why not? It makes him look more impressive than he actually is, even though he outright states he hasn't changed much if at all. Not to mention the narrative makes it sound like he was some sort of underdog, even though he only got kidnapped and didn't get his license. And I know those are big things, but not enough to warrant his victory feeling that triumphant. I'd probably buy it if he didn't win the Sports Festival or pass the Final Exam. Keep him in that slump for longer than you actually do, or it lessens the impact. And let's not forget, he might have been willing to help Izuku with Blackwhip via fisticuffs, but the second he realized he wasn't getting anything out of it, he noped out. And it's been what, almost 200 chapters since his "starting line?"

I don't have much to say during the Endeavor Arc (that was its own can of worms),  but as for the War Arc thus far… here's what I mean by "whiplash." The arc begins in Chapter 253. By Chapter 257, Katsuki will demonstrate how much he just does not give a f*** about Izuku's mastery over OFA so long as it looks like he'll come out on top. By Chapter 274, when Izuku's gotta split, it'll look like Katsuki has been thinking about some stuff, but by 275 he's gonna throw that out the window so he can attempt to one up Tomura and Izuku, and then he'll nearly get killed for it. And we won't know what exactly Katsuki is thinking until a flashback in Chapter 284 (which chronologically takes place after 257), where he has a conversation with All Might about his past with Izuku. Or at least the bullet points. If you're me, the start of the conversation feels less about Izuku and more so about his situation: his situation with OFA. And as much as I want to believe there was at least one good kernel in Katsuki that he was too stubborn to let out with Izuku, I feel like Katsuki only brings up him and his capabilities now because he got a Quirk. That's what put him on Katsuki's radar. That's what forced Katsuki to take notice of Izuku, what caused him to be unable to ignore his own weakness. Because of a Quirk. That's… borderline shallow, if not remarkably so.

And even when Katsuki is attempting to save Izuku in 285, his first thoughts are still on OFA. And even if we go by the line of thought that Katsuki is thinking "Even if OFA sucks, it's still Izuku's Quirk." And that's nice and all, but the flashback makes it seem like the Quirk is still All Might's Quirk as well. That all of Izuku's worth is hinged on the fact that he got a Quirk now and therefore can't be written off. Maybe he doesn't owe this to his accomplishments, but the narrative is terrible in its implications that Izuku wouldn't have gotten as much attention without it. At the end of the day, Katsuki is still associating Izuku's worth with his Quirk. And as much as I want to vaguely, vainly hope that this will change later on, I'm already at my limit

...and now that I've said my piece on almost the entire narrative thus far, let's shift gears to a few more tidbits in 285.

Again, the flashback. I think it's significant that they're shifting the focus briefly on middle school again. But you wanna know what sent me the wrong way? They didn't include the god forsaken suicide instigation. They can show Katsuki gloating. They can show Izuku up against a wall. They can even show a notebook and Izuku's face during the Sludge Villain rematch. But they can't show Izuku reacting with sorrow mixed with almost fury. That can't show Katsuki threatening him with a mere "What?" and the sparks on his palms. They can't show Izuku standing and crying, small and defeated.

"BUT HORI SAID HE WENT TO FAR WITH THAT SCENE!1!" Blah blah blah, doesn't change the fact that it still happened. Doesn't change the fact that it should be addressed, at any capacity. Doesn't change the fact that the story had the balls to recall middle school but couldn't bring itself to remember the one thing that could get its audience raising eyebrows.

But that's alright, it gave you the notebook; clearly it's done enough.

And maybe in another timeline, I could have let my jaw drop when Katsuki was hit and the chapter title was revealed. "Katsuki Bakugo: Rising" It would have been pretty damn powerful too.

...but with all the previous crap the narrative has pulled, it feels like more shoehorning. It feels like more Erasehead stepping in and shaming the audience. It feels like more All Might letting Katsuki in because he's not completely familiar with the finer details. It feels like more people. In narrative parroting that Katsuki changed when he does the bare minimum, as a hero or as a person. I can't treat this development legitimately, because so many other "legitimate" developments pulled a "psyche!" and headed out.

So, I'm done. I'm done with Katsuki, done with hoping his development will be done in a somewhat satisfying manner. Done with people telling me "it's actually good though!" like I'm blind and deaf or something, when I have enough brain cells to formulate my own opinions, and we both have enough brain cells to leave each other alone if we don't agree. Maybe when the series ends and we can all look at this in hindsight, and Katsuki has either found a way to redeem himself, or remain deplorable, I might talk about it then. But for now. I'm drawing the line. I might talk about what we've gotten up to this point, but everything past 285 I'm taking with a grain of salt. 'Cause I'm sick of hoping for something that obviously won't come through, and it's better for me and everyone involved if I just pack up and move on. BNHA isn't just Katsuki's story after all.

And if you made it to the end of all this… I hope you'll either respect my opinion, or respect my thought process. That's all I can ask.

-Crimson Lion (27 September 2020)

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #anti bakugou #anti bakugo #anti-bakugo #anti-bakugou #antibaku #character analysis #character meta #meta #rant #vent #long rant #long vent #word vomit #incoherent rambling #Word Count: 3163 #Or something like that #too mentally exhausted to make this look better #you get what you get #bnha 285 #now that that's out of the way #excuse me while I go and pray for Izuku to get some physical and mental assistance and hope he doesn't die