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ghoulhusband · 6 days

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i’m going to bed early (well not early but early for me) but before i do i was thinking about the 2000 cap entry fee to vegas and how much i love mods that make everything worth a very, very small amount of money. because the mojave economy being absolutely fucking wrecked is something that i don’t think gets touched on enough. sure, you as the player are making money hand over fist in the base game, but everyone else is so, so broke in all the small towns you visit along the way. good armor for a whole town is a 1000 cap investment according to chet, who’s pretty obviously exaggerating, but say he’s right?

that means the bighorner hides, the most valuable thing these people have (aside from water,) AFTER being processed into leather, which is an huge amount of labor hours, is worth 111 caps, if we use the 9 npcs in game.

but say you used a higher number, like how many people there probably would be in a really really small town. 45-60 people, let’s say. 22-17 caps per armor. and the credit check to get into vegas—not even to have a good time, to be able to afford everything, but just to get in—is 2000 caps. now sure, maybe the people in goodsprings have more caps saved away, but this is one of their main exports. they maybe have two or three times that much money lying around, if they’re lucky. if we can extrapolate that to the other towns (which are honestly probably worse off because most of them aren’t producing anything anywhere near as valuable as food, water and leather,) that means that in most of the mojave, the people actually doing the labor have between 17% and .09% of the money needed to get into vegas, depending on how big we inflate the number of people in each town.

so if no one has much money, then the towns are probably operating on the barter system, and then it’s 5 caps for x thing if you really have to pay. which is great for them in theory, i’m very pro bartering, but there’s a lot of resources in the area they’re clearly not benefitting from. where are they going? well, quite a lot of the ncr soldiers, even with the shitty caps to paper money conversion rate, have enough money to pass the credit check. they take their paycheck and they hit the strip. now maybe they get a special exemption, but i’m inclined to think they don’t, because that makes no sense. house is in it to make money, he wouldn’t make an exception for most of his customer base. so if the average soldier in the ncr saves their money, they’re making upwards of $5k per paycheck (ncr dollars are worth about 40% the face value of caps.)

that’s SO crunchy. like i’ve thought about this before because it’s a key part of the narrative, but i never sat down and did the math before. like if we use 2k caps as a sort of middle class line, just to do some real world comparison, let’s say that 2k caps savings makes you middle class, which is about consistent with real world usd figures, then you probably make about 60k caps per year (that’s the median middle class salary per person in the u.s. right now.) so all these people from the ncr are making $150k a year in ncr dollars.

if the ncr dollar ever became worth 100% of the face value of a cap, the average person in the ncr (who aren’t part of the prison labor system, or the other exploited classes in the imperial hub, which is a separate point,) are equal in wealth to upper middle class people from the u.s., today, by our scale. now, maybe that number is skewed because only the middle class ncr citizens can make it to new vegas. totally possible. that still means the foot soldiers of an occupying army are making an insane amount of money compared to their real world counterparts (in the u.s. enlisted soldiers make between $24k-43k.) while the average person from the mojave has between 17 and 333 dollars in the bank account. those are really specific numbers but you know what i mean. if you have under $1k in savings in the real world you’re in economic jeopardy. much less if you have $17. if we extrapolate yearly income from those numbers, the people with the largest amount of money saved (333 caps or thereabouts) are making 10,200 caps per year. which is below the severe poverty line in the real world. the person with $17 would be making about 566 caps per year. vs. 150k. the ncr is just destroying the fucking economy and house is so complicit in that. it’s such a killer detail that the amount of money that’s being extracted from the region is astronomically high compared to the living costs of every day people, and the only one who’s really seeing any of that money without tons of strings attached is house. who can’t fucking use any of it for anything beyond exerting more control over the region and finding the platinum chip. see: he spent 812,545 caps looking for it in one year alone.

#also really adds depth to how much money chet must be making. he’s gone to vegas twice and lost most of his money both times which means #he’s clearly one of the only traders who charges people from the ncr what everything should be worth #it makes me like him more like it’s such a small detail that’s so good. or trudy (who clearly has a ton of money she rarely uses) paying you #what is really an exorbitant amount of money to fix her radio because she feels bad for you and it’s worth it to her to get her radio fixed #some of my math might be nonsense here because i’m tired and i have dyscalculia but i’m generally pretty good with money math #idk that’s just such a good detail that this game mechanic can actually tell you the whole story of exploitation and resource extraction if #you do the math problem with the numbers they give you

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stil-lindigo · 3 months

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In Gaza, journalists are passing out from exhaustion and famine. Despite the ICJ ruling, the US and Australia are intentionally defunding UNWRA based on baseless claims by Israel that members of the aid group are Hamas-sympathizers. Netanyahu, of course, has ignored the ICJ ruling. Israel has banned insulin pens from arriving in Gaza, a particularly cruel and inhumane crime to add to their laundry list of offences. Nothing has changed, and things are getting worse.

It is not that hard to not buy things. To not watch things. Perhaps it is inconvenient, and makes you go out of your way, and costs a little more to buy alternatives. But if you were to attend a funeral a day for every child that has died in Gaza so far, it would take you over 27 years. When the worst that will happen to you is that you don't watch a TV show featuring a zionist, you don't buy a specific brand that donates to and supports zionism, how could that possibly compare to the plight of Palestinians who must amputate limbs without anesthesia?

Once again, this is the BDS list of brands to boycott.

Here is a comprehensive post about more actions you can take in support of Palestine.

Here is a list of verifiable orgs that provide aid on the ground.

credible organisations that are doing work on the ground in Palestine:

Care for Gaza:non-profit charity that distributes money, food and other resources directly to families in Gaza.They maintain a regular presence on Twitter and Instagram. You can donate to them via Paypal here.

PCRF / Palestine Children's Relief Fund: non-profit organisation that distributes essential food and resources to families in Gaza. Most recently, they delivered 30 tons of vital medicine, and 82,000 pounds of flour.

Medical Aid For Palestinians: deploys medical teams to treat Palestinians suffering under Israel's malicious bombardments.

Donate e-sims to Palestine: massive post with tutorials and relevant links, with discount codes included in the post and in the replies.

Direct Aid: humanitarian fund distributing supplies such as blankets and winter jackets directly to Palestinian families.

help people leave palestine (donate what you can)

Help a Family Evacuate Gaza (GoGetFunding)

Save Sanaa and her Family (Gofundme)

Save Amjad Saher and his family (Gofundme)

Help a family of 13 escape Gaza (Gofundme)

Help a Palestinian children's book illustrator save her family of 12 (Gofundme)

Today, tomorrow and until Israel faces justice for their crimes, learn how to prioritise Palestine over your own comfort.

#the defunding of the unwra as israel further escalates their unimaginable cruelty produces an indescribable rage #these western leaders deserve to be fucking stoned #nothing comes in the way of western hegemony and their commitment to upholding unforgivable cruelty for profit #palestine #free palestine #free gaza #free west bank #fuck israel

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erinfern0 · 11 days

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husband simon "ghost" riley

husband!simon who cried while reading his vows, looking around the venue to see his team cheering for the both of you. They're one of the few people invited from his side of the room, but it was all the family he had and needed.

husband!simon who feels like he waited for this moment his whole life, the moment you finally said yes, giving yourself to him fully. Wearing the fanciest piece of clothing he ever had, saying the most important words he ever did, standing right beside you was a dream come true.

husband!simon who wouldn't drink a lot during your party, just admiring the view of you dancing and being so happy for him, with him. Especially enjoys when Kyle and Johnny stumble upon you and chuckle, pushing you towards the dance floor, having the time of their lives at the wedding of their favorite couple.

husband!simon who would take secret pictures of you, especially if you fall asleep amongst some guests. Head on Price's shoulder, Kyle's lap, or tangled up with Johnny on the couch in the hallway of the venue. He'll definitely torment you with them later, especially since you didn't really have a chance to get back at him as he has a spider-like sense for cameras and quickly avoids them.

husband!simon who's the happiest man alive beside you and would do absolutely anything to make you happy too. Acts of service are his favorite way to show you his love, especially when he's back from deployment for some time. Doing most chores and bringing you hot tea every morning,

husband!simon who spends as much time with you as he can, usually at home where he can just pull you close without caring for others. Grabbing your hips while you wash the dishes or pulling your waist when you try to get out of bed are a must.

husband!simon who just can't resist you, thinking about you all the time. Being far or close doesn't matter, you're on his mind 24/7. You can sleep beside him or be a thousand kilometers away, he's still thinking about you. If he can't see your face in the morning, he'd just imagine it with a smile on his face.

husband!simon who attends therapy regularly so he can be a better version of himself for the both of you. Especially if you're planning to make your little family a bigger one.

husband!simon who suffers from sleepless nights whenever you argue. He can't just fall asleep when you've just argued, so in most cases, he occupies his mind by cleaning the entire house or filling in some missing reports.

husband!simon who gets his stuff after the argument and gets ready to sleep on the couch, only to smirk when you enter the living room and make him come back to bed. You can't sleep without him as much as he can't without you. Yeah, you may not talk, but his arm will find its' way around your waist as you fall asleep.

husband!simon's favorite way to make up after an argument is waking you up with his arms around your frame and soothing apologies spilling from his lips. He loves the way you immediately pull him closer and comply, adding your own apologies to the mix.

husband!simon who is too old to care about morning breath, if you don't mind, he'll put a thousand kisses all over your face at any time of the day, especially to wake you up.

husband!simon who brags about you to his mates and won't shut up even if they complain. That's the price they pay after begging him to get to know more about his secret little love before.

husband!simon doesn't care about the money, because let's face it —he's got tons of it and will gladly spend it on you. Buys you secret gifts that he hides around the house before deployment, so you don't miss him too much.

husband!simon leaves the room whenever you call him. Your conversations are sacred, no matter how much his team wants to say hello, it's your time. They can call you themselves if they are so interested.

husband!simon who becomes a handyman as soon as you ask for anything. Your shelf is not leveled properly, and the sink is broken? Don't worry, love, he'll take care of it.

husband!simon who watches lots of documentaries with you in your free time. Also, secretly enjoys cooking shows and even more secretly — makeover TV shows. Especially the ones where they turn alternative-looking people into some normies, and loves to complain that they rip them off all their personalities.

husband!simon will get a matching tattoo with you. Probably already has some that remind him of you.

husband!simon who becomes very conversational, something you wouldn't expect the day you two meet. If you finally let him open up, he's yapping all the time with you, just rambles about all the little things that are on his mind.

husband!simon who very much enjoys those conversations while you two have sex, makes it even more sweet and domestic in his mind. Most of the time, you two talk about plans for the day or random chores that you need to finish while he pounds into you, making you both giggle and out of breath.

husband!simon definitely changes his tone around you. When Johnny heard that for the first time, his jaw dropped at the soft way he talked to you.

husband!simon who does everything in his power to protect you. The address he doesn't share with anyone, burner phones to contact you while being deployed, highest quality security. Most of the time uses nicknames instead of your name when in public, and probably one or two guard dogs that are y'alls most-loved pets (he pretends not to see how you spoil them while he's gone).

husband!simon who takes you on nice vacations whenever he can to make up for the time you two lost while he was deployed.

husband!simon who cannot see his future without you, you're stuck with him for eternity.

masterlist | request info

#riri writes #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #cod mw2 #gender neutral reader #cod #cod mwiii #simon ghost riley cod #ghost cod #headcanons #hcs

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maximoff-pan · 4 months

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the ultimate deception | benedict bridgerton (part one)

summary: you are a well known artist who paints under a pseudonym. What happens when Lady Whistledown comes to know of your identity? How will your relationship with Benedict evolve?

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!(artist)reader

word count: 4k

warning(s): poor writing and dialogue (sue me, I'm rusty lol), very unedited so if there are mistakes, I apologize, misogyny, penelope aka Lady Whistledown's biggest defender

a/n: this is definitely going to be more than one part, but I wanted to post something after so many months. Let me know how you like it (or don't like it haha)...comments and feedback are much appreciated <3

• • • • • •

“I wish I possessed merely an ounce of your talent.”

Benedict’s gaze seems to be wholly absorbing your latest painting, a depiction of the botanical wonders of London’s Royal Kew Gardens.

You puff out a breath, blowing on the feathery end of one of your writing quills. In your haste, it had gotten loose, tickling your face irritatingly. Tucking it back behind your ear, you wave him off. “You have much more talent than you give yourself credit for.” You admit through squinted eyes, scanning your work. “You simply lack conviction. And you worry far too much about what others think of you.”

Benedict smiles, receiving your words as the highest of praise. He reaches out to take a better look at the piece of art before him. “You flatter me.” He mumbles in awe. “But I suppose there’s a chance you could be right.”

Chuckling at his words, you grin knowingly. You’re right. It’s more than a chance…you just are. He knows it too.

You both continue to steadily eye the painting, you out of critical evaluation of your work, and him in sheer admiration of it.

Benedict’s favourite part remains the beautifully bloomed magnolias that are scattered across the canvas. He’d been sure to tell you numerous times of their elegance while you’d been working on it, eagerly awaiting the finished product. As you’ve come to realize, Benedict loves watching you work. It’s one of the prices you’ve had to pay for his allowance of your workstation being at Bridgerton House, if you could even call it that.

You are grateful, truly. You wouldn’t be able to make your own living without his kindness. And you certainly wouldn’t be able to keep to yourself in the way you prefer to.

“When will Augustus Leighton be displaying his latest work of perfection?” Benedict’s question reminds you of your fate as an artist.

Augustus Leighton is the pseudonym you paint under. Using his name, you have become a well known artist among the ton, even going so far as to have a painting hung at Buckingham Palace. It’s difficult, you must admit, pretending to be someone else. But it’s a necessary evil.

Painting as a woman would get you nowhere. Especially as a woman with no money (particularly at the time you began), no status, and no husband.

Your mother is a seamstress with little to her name and your father was a servant to Violet and Edmund Bridgerton, before his heart became too weak. He passed away when you were thirteen, only a few years after the Bridgerton children had lost their own father. You’d grown up with little money, but Violet had been kind to both you and your mother, seeing how close you’d become with her children.

You were raised alongside them, Benedict and Eloise becoming your closest of friends. At three and twenty, there are five years between you and the two siblings in either direction, with Eloise being freshly eighteen, and Benedict having turned twenty eight. To this day, they remain two of only three people who know of your true identity, outside of Penelope Featherington.

You hadn’t exactly meant for Eloise or Penelope to find out about it, but once they had, it became comforting to have more than just Benedict to speak to about your predicament. Especially considering, although Benedict has been wonderfully supportive, he could never understand the struggle a woman must endure in a male dominated world.

“Likely never. This one is a gift for Lady Danbury.” You answer Benedict’s inquiry after a bout of silence. “She’s spoken about her love of these gardens quite regularly, so I thought, why not have Mr. Leighton recreate it for her?”

“How will you get it to her?” He questions.

A smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “I have my ways, lest you worry about it.”

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

The next few days are interesting to say the least. You’d somehow managed to get the painting delivered to Lady Danbury, and as far as Violet had been willing to speak of her latest visit with the formidable aforementioned woman, you have been made aware that she adores it.

You’d also heard more about it from Benedict, who’d mentioned something about her being at a loss for words, an ultimate shock to both him and his mother. They’d never seen her look so bewildered.

According to Eloise, Lady Danbury had been surprised to receive such a gift, especially of something so near and dear to her heart. She’d said it reminded her of her time with the Queen, telling the young Bridgerton woman about the months just after her husband had passed, when a new independent lifestyle began to bloom for her.

The painting itself reminded her that women like her could be free, and one day, they would be. That sort of metaphorical mindset had definitely appealed to Eloise’s sense of social justice. She’d been more than excited to tell you about the older woman’s reaction to your art, claiming it to be a wonderful revelation.

Today though, as you sit in the Bridgerton’s common living room, the opposite representation of said female autonomy rests in your hands. The paper feels rough against your skin as you pass it to Eloise who’s propped excitedly to the left of you. You’ve never been a fan of Lady Whistledown’s gossip column, although you can admire her unabashed confidence. But despite her strong will as an author, which could be seen as an inherently empowering trait, you are of the impression that she goes about it in an entirely backward way.

Women don’t need to put each other down to build themselves up. It accomplishes nothing, consequently acting as a source of nourishment for the patriarchy you find yourself trapped in.

“You’re not going to read it?” Eloise asks as she takes the pamphlet from you.

“I never do.” Is your instant reply.

Penelope perks up at the mention of the column, eyes trained curiously on you. If you had known better, you’d say she was a little too interested.

But at this moment you shrug it off, listening with no suspicion as she asks a simple, “Why?”

You don’t have the hindsight to understand why your stomach turns at her question, but you respond anyway. “I tend to think of Lady Whistledown as a poison.” It’s the first time you’ve voiced such an opinion.

Penelope and Eloise turn to you in surprise. “Come again?” Penelope’s soft voice cuts through.

“She is a poison.” You repeat before explaining yourself. “Do not get me wrong, I hold admiration for her bravado, but her words, the things she writes, they cause nothing but pain and conflict for those she chooses to sink her teeth into.”

“But she’s an independent woman.” Eloise interjects. “One who is doing more than any of us could dream of. She is making a name for herself!”

You try to think about your next words carefully, but your mouth makes quick work of a reply. “A name which she hides behind, casting stones through the guise and safety of anonymity.”

Penelope lets out a scoff from beside you. She’s always been one to defend the infamous gossip columnist. “At least she does not hide herself behind the mask of a man.” That feels like a shot. “The people know full well of her gender, despite her true identity remaining a secret.”

You hear the implication on her tongue. The same cannot be said for you.

And she’s not wrong. You do hide yourself behind the mask of a man. You’d never once denied that.

You sigh. “I know you must think of me as a hypocrite.”

Eloise agrees hesitantly. “Only a little.” She admits. “It’s just that you do the same as Mr. Leighton.”

You soften at her honesty. Truthfully, you understand where she’s coming from, but you can’t help the urge you feel to defend yourself.

“I disguise myself as Augutus because I know that no artist or art critic alike will take me seriously as I am. I want to share my work with the world, that is simply all I want. It’s all I have ever wanted.”

“Does that not make you a coward?” Penelope inquires, although it feels less like a question and more like an opinion. This is what she believes. And she's entitled to that.

“Perhaps.” You nod in acknowledgment. “But it has also made me uniquely successful. And I take great pride knowing that my work is highly regarded, in spite of the fact that I have to be someone else to succeed.”

“Does that ever bother you?” Eloise persists. “Knowing that no one will know you for the work you have done?”

Before you can respond, Penelope chimes in with a query of her own. “Does it ever make you feel guilty, lying as you do?” This feels like a challenge.

You turn to Eloise, answering her first. “No, I feel quite unbothered. I like the privacy it provides me.” Your gaze flicks between the two girls, a fire in your eyes as you speak.

You answer Penelope’s question next. “Guilt is one of the last feelings to cross my mind.” You feel content with it. “Because of Augustus, I have my own money, my own independence. I do not need a man to survive or to be happy. I have choices. And that's a facet of my life I never dreamed could have existed. If there is anything more empowering for a woman than that, I cannot think of it.”

Eloise listens to your words carefully, absorbing them, reveling in them. She hadn’t thought of it like that, but you’re right. Independence is a sign of true equality. And you have that. Not because of the name you hide behind, but because you’d used the insecurities of men to your advantage. You’d played the game and won.

“I suppose I have been quite short sighted.” There’s much less arrogance in her tone. Eloise sounds humbled. “You’ve given me a new perspective to think about.”

Penelope does not enjoy the direction this conversation has headed. “Surely you cannot think yourself above someone such as Lady Whistledown.”

Your face scrunches in thought. “Above?” You stipulate. “I do not think myself above anyone, gender aside. But I do think I have a much higher sense of self respect than she does.”

“And how could that possibly be?” Penelope has to bite her tongue. She wants to say more, defend herself more. But she cannot.

Eloise cuts in. “Lady Whistledown has the utmost confidence in herself. I dare say more than all the women in London combined. As much as I have come to see your side, I cannot agree with that.”

“One’s high level of confidence is of little concern here.” You deliver. “Often, in matters regarding the human condition, such as these, it can act as a detriment.” Your eyes narrow as you speak. “Self respect and self confidence can coincide, but they are not the same.”

Eloise laughs out of confusion. She’s not used to being this clueless. “I don’t understand.” She says.

“Ah,” you decide to stop tiptoeing around the subject. “I merely think that no self-respecting woman would use the pain and suffering of other women, or any other person for that matter, for their own profit and entertainment.”

Eloise’s smile drops. “Oh.” Again, she hadn’t thought of it that way. But what resonates with her most is that you’re not wrong.

“Is that what you truly think of Lady Whistledown?” Penelope’s voice is calm and collected for the first time this afternoon. It almost scares you.

“Yes.” You say, before voicing, “However, I mean no offense to either of you. I know how much you girls adore her column. I just want more for you than what she does. A life of gossip is dangerous, and you deserve so much more.”

If you had known you’d been talking to Lady Whistledown herself, maybe you would have kept those opinions to yourself. But little did you know how much your life was about to change, how dangerously you’d walked the line, and how much vengeance rests in Penelope Featherington’s soul.

Future note to self, do not play with fire if one does not wish to get burnt.

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

“(Y/n), I think you need to see this.” Benedict holds up the newest edition of London’s famous gossip column.

Your heart sinks at the look in his eyes. I’m sorry they seem to say.

You haven’t even read it and you already know it’s bad. Handing it to you, Benedict looks hesitant, almost in preparation of what's to come. As you take it from him, you glance down at the ink on the paper, her handwriting etched in your brain.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you begin to read:

Dearest Gentle Reader,

It has come to this author’s attention that a certain individual is playing an unforgivable game of deception within the world of classical art that this ton so highly regards. This artisan has gone to great lengths to keep their true identity from you, painting under a well recognized pseudonym.

By now you may have guessed, this artist is a woman. One who has tricked you and lied to you by passing her work off as that of a man’s. What a horrid crime it is to keep such a secret from you, and a desperate one, I must admit. A woman so foul as to seek such attention for her art, far too greedy to be content with the life so many of the wonderful women of the ton lead. Instead, she parades around disguising herself so she can live a life she feels entitled to.

This author asks you to consider the arrogance of it all. But the question remains, as I am sure you are desperate to uncover: who is the serpent who remains among us?

And so it is with great sorrow that I announce the once beloved Augustus Leighton is a fraud. A man never seen in the public setting, has given us a reason why. He is a woman.

And her name, ladies and gentleman of London, is (Y/n) (L/n).

As I am sure you, gentle reader, are shocked at this revelation, I will take a moment to address the woman this particular entry concerns.

May I remind you Miss (L/n), I have ears and eyes everywhere. Or did you forget? It would do you a world of good to remember that the next time you think about besmirching me. And, as I write this, I must say, this warning goes for all. Heed it, live by it, breathe by it. I am not a woman you want to cross.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

Panic crawls through your body. You want to cry, scream, maybe even simply die from the anxiety you’re feeling.

“What am I going to do?”

Your voice cracks, it sounds like glass breaking. Shattered, ragged, and tired, and Benedict can do nothing but hold you.

Again, as your body shakes and caves into the pressure you think, what am I going to do?

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

The moment Eloise enters the room with Anthony at her side, your mind is sent ablaze. Only three people had known about Augustus. Only three people could have possibly let it slip, and you know for a fact it wasn’t Benedict.

As much as you want to believe Eloise would never do something like that to you, you can’t help but feel like she might have offhandedly mentioned it to someone. Her mouth had always worked much faster than her brain.

Benedict’s gaze meets yours in understanding. He hopes his sister hasn’t done this; he’ll be furious if she has.

You’re about to say something when a certain eldest Bridgerton catches you off guard. Anthony smiles when he sees you, eyes twinkling uncharacteristically so.

“I had no idea you could paint like that.” He says. “I must admit, I’m quite proud of you.”

You blink rapidly in confusion. Proud? In all the years you’ve known Anthony, he’s never told you he’s proud of you.

“So you’ve read the column then?” Your head hangs in shame. Everyone in London has probably read it by now.

“Everyone has.” Eloise pipes in timidly, confirming your suspicions.

She’s nervous, understandably so, fingers fiddling with the hem of her dress. You assume when you finally catch her gaze that she’ll avert it quickly, but instead, she holds it well.

We need to talk.

Benedict, reading the room perfectly, coughs in apprehension. “Brother, how about we let these ladies be for a moment? I’m certain they have some things to discuss.”

“Of course.” Anthony nods with a smile, not before reminding you how proud he is of you.

If anything good can come of this, it might just be that.

Once alone, Eloise is eager to assure you of her innocence. “I spoke to no one.” She promises. “Blood be forgotten, you’re my sister (Y/n). I would never betray you like that.”

The look on her face is one of pure panic; she needs you to believe her. And despite everything, you do. It almost makes you feel guilty that you questioned her.

“It’s alright.” You assure her. “I know you wouldn’t.”

But that only leaves one person…

“I think Penelope is Lady Whistledown.” You're taken aback by Eloise’s words, like a stab to the chest. Twisting the knife in further, she corrects, “I know she is.”

Moments of silence pass before you can collect your thoughts. “How long have you known?”

This is where Eloise loses her composure. Pure shame is etched upon her features. “I caught her a few weeks ago.”

A few weeks. A few weeks… A FEW WEEKS?

“Oh.” Your murmur is dejected and weak.

Eloise had known you’d been slandering Lady Whistledown in front of Lady Whistledown, and she’d done nothing to stop you, except defend her best friend’s honour. No wonder she’d been so reluctant to agree with you.

“I wanted to say something.” Eloise stammers. “But I couldn’t. Penelope doesn’t know that I know.”

You inhale a staggered breath of air, face falling to your palms. “I’ve been such a fool. How could I have been so stupid?”

“You have not.” The girl beside you opposes before continuing, “Trust me, I am furious with Penelope. The things she’s done and said about me, about the people I care about, I’m not sure I can forgive her for it.”

You scoff lightly. Trust her? How are you supposed to do that?

Sure, Eloise has certainly been burned by Lady Whistledown before, but she’s always had her name to fall back on. “You have no idea what it’s like, Eloise.”

“I’m sorry.” She slumps in apology, shrinking in on herself. Eloise likes to think she can understand where you’re coming from. She’s a woman, same as you, one who has the same struggles against the patriarchy, and yet, hers are much different.

“Don’t.” You dismiss her apology in frustration. It feels harsh but necessary. “You always speak about feminism and the difficulties of being a woman. How it is impossible for you to hold title and rank, or to be recognized for your accomplishments. But you are a Bridgerton Eloise, and that comes with more privilege, more title, more rank, and more acknowledgment in society than you seem to understand.”

Eloise’s brow furrows. “More often than not, that name is a burden, something you could not possibly grasp.”

“And I should not have to.” Your lips pull into a thin line. This isn’t a competition, but you feel it necessary to defend your point wholly. “I am the daughter of a servant and a seamstress. I have no money, no control, and no future if I am not to marry. Since the day I was born, I belonged to someone else. You talk of struggle, but you have no idea what it truly means.”

Eloise doesn’t like what you’re implying. “You think I live a life of luxury? That I am a stranger to the adversities life has to offer? I can assure you, I know much more about the struggles of which you speak. My mother has prepared me for the purpose of my future; finding a husband is imperative.”

“You plan to remain unmarried, correct?” You ask her seriously.

“With every fiber in my being.” Is her scathing reply. And it only serves to prove your point. But you can see her side of things too.

“El, you defy your mother with your distaste for society. And while I applaud your determination to fight for equality, your fault remains in your failure to recognize the entitlement that has been bestowed upon you simply by having that choice. Unlike so many women, you can choose to live your life as a spinster. For you, those options exist. For me, I have not one choice besides finding a well suited, at best, middle class husband, because that is all I am suited for.”

In this moment, her heart shatters for you. Is that really what you think of yourself? “You cannot possibly mean that.”

“It’s how it has to be.” You affirm.

“It’s not.” She disagrees. “There’s so much more for you than a husband.”

Both your defenses are down, walls have collapsed, and you’re starting to get through to each other. She’s starting to grasp the gravity of what this means for you. Your career is more than likely over, as is the steady source of income you’d managed to build. Except where before you’d had less than no money to your name, you now had a healthy dowry (that you’d earned no less) to find a more comfortable suitor.

Eloise sees it now. What Penelope has done is monumentally life changing.

However, as emotional as this circumstance is, you still feel the need to reach out. She’s your sister after all.

“Eloise,” your eyes search hers. They tread in a sea of empathy. “I never meant to imply you have lived a life without misfortunes. I’m not trying to diminish your hurt. But I thought if you heard my side, you might come to understand mine.”

She softens at your admission, having gotten carried away in defending herself. Nodding, she smiles gently. “I do.” She says. “And while you may not bear the Bridgerton surname, you do have us. Every Bridgerton will stand behind you, always.”

Against every fibre in your being, you believe her. Somehow you’ll always have this little family of yours, somehow you hope you’ll be okay…

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x female reader

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vagabond-umlaut · 5 months

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ruby, one baker's dozen

Winter mornings are meant to be whiled away in the silent comfort of one's blankets— a rule the feared King of Curses knows and follows— or must one say, he knows and desperately wishes to follow, but alas!

▸ trueform!sukuna x wife!reader; tons & gallons of tooth-rotting domestic fluff; v light suggestiveness in the beginning; before everything transforms into silliness; SLEEPY LOVING & CUDDLING; you & 'kuna have two adorable menaces as your twin babies— life is definitely fun for you, handling three ryomen's on a daily basis! xD [ryomen isn't rly sukuna's surname, is it? well, here in these tags, it is :)]

▸ belongs to the series 'mine? yes, mine.' but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

One thing which Sukuna cherishes more than most is his sleep.

And one thing which Sukuna cherishes more than sleep is when you're the one waking him.

Feathery kisses pressing themselves into the column of his neck. Sharp nails slowly dragging down the length of his arm. Your tiny figure moving to lie atop of him, freezing yet more comforting than the warmest fires this wintry dawn—

A rumble of a chuckle leaving, he opens an eye to find you staring. Your enchanting eyes heavy with sleep, and those twinkles never not there when he catches you gazing upon him. A languid smile adorns his face.

"Isn't it too early for you to be awake, wife?"

"Perhaps," you hum, lifting your lips into a drowsy tilt, "But it is never early for me to admire my husband," your hand moves from travelling down his arm to card through his hair, "At times, I cannot believe you're married to me. You're far too ethereal for anything– for anyone from this world."

You're jesting, is the first thought which crosses Sukuna's mind. But it is banished the very next instant— when he notices the sincerity engraved into your features and words, clear as day for all to see.

Ignoring the erratic rhythm thundering within his chest, your lover wraps an arm round your waist and pulls you flush to himself. Another hand moves to run through your messy hair gently. Basking in the content sigh you offer as a response, he grumbles, "Flattery never works on me, woman. Speak your mind freely, without resorting to such trifling words."

"Ah, but what if I was speaking my mind, my king?" you breathe out, giggling lightly, "I do see you as someone otherworldly, someone who is— mmph!"

Unusual yet far-from-unknown feelings clouding his vision, Sukuna captures your lips into a fiery motion with his own. Two hands alternating between caressing you through your nightgown and squeezing the supple flesh lying beneath it. A third hand slipping the thin strap of the gown past your shoulder. While the fourth one reaches towards the nightstand, for the–

"The necklace!"

Sukuna draws in a sharp breath, breaking the kiss. You make a noise, somewhere between puzzled and disgruntled— yet your husband finds himself unable to focus on it as he moves you to shift into a sitting posture— not when he cannot find the necklace he gifted you the night prior, the very one he unclasped from round your neck and kept on the table before going to bed—

A soft gasp drags his attention back to you. To your wide, terrified eyes.

"Don't tell me you cannot find the necklace, Sukuna!!" The warning in your tone is unmistakeable as you lean over him to look at the stand. "It must have been worth more than a fortune— I always ask you to mind your expenses yet you never—"

"The money isn't the problem, wife," Sukuna doesn't wait for you before snapping, "The problem's in the security— though for an intruder to escape my eye, it is nigh impossi—"

Your lover stills.

The very moment two tiny yet blinding Cursed Energy signatures make themselves known. Chortling. Toddling from the nursery adjacent into the bedroom. Of course, with your necklace of rubies being held by one of them.

A joyous shriek leaves them when they see you awake, tiny legs waddling even faster to help them reach you sooner— yet much too slow for the likes of the feared King of Curses.

In a fraction of a second, he wrenches the blankets off to place his feet on the ground. And stomping over to the two– now rooted to their spot, crimson eyes narrowed into slits at their father– he scoops each up into one arm. And glowers.

"Why did you steal this, you brats?"

The twins share an oddly telepathic-seeming look with each other— before the younger, Mizuki, answers, chubby face set in a deep scowl, "Gift, pwetty. Mama, pwetty."

"Yes, I agree," Sukuna seethes, barely restraining his temper, "But that gift was for me to give your mother. Not for you to give her. How dare you-"

"No!!" A hand smacks him, one he realises is covered in drool. If looks could kill, your husband reckons your elder twin Amaya would've long since shoved him into the realm of death by now. She hits him again. "Mizu–Aya gift Mama. Papa no gift Mama."

A scathing retort sits at the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it back when he hears your giggles. Your feet land on the floor with a soft tap! before ambling over. You press a sweet kiss to each of your daughters' foreheads, eliciting two sets of identical laughs in reply.

You coo, "Did my two darlings get me a beautiful gift, hm?"

The twins nod vigorously, Mizuki nearly shoving the ornament into your face. Annoyance ticks in Sukuna's jaw, but he stops himself from chastising them— you'll chew his ears off if he interrupts your 'mama-babies bonding moment' or whatever.

Shooting him an awfully delighted glance, you take the necklace and wearing it, grin with a brow raised. "So... how do I look, babies?"

"Pwetty!!!"

The twins waste not even an instant before screeching their opinion, right into their father's ears— yet, somehow, the latter cannot find it within himself to be mad for that. Not when they have only spoken the truth, for you indeed do look very pretty.

Absolutely nothing less than a vision.

A vision your husband has to take a deep breath to restrain from ravishing this very moment— lest it scars the children and you snap his neck in return— he clears his throat noisily to regain your attention. Subtly nodding your head at him, he watches you redirect your gaze to the toddlers— that sweet smile still lighting your face, yet a tad serious.

A change, he gathers, Amaya and Mizuki too realise, given the way they sneak a glance of each other before returning their eyes to you. Smoothing the hair on top of Amaya's head, you hum, "The gift was pretty too, my darlings— but I wonder when the two of you went to the market to buy it, y'know?"

A tense moment passes with yet another telepathic look between the twins. Voice still soft, you inquire, "Were you the ones who bought me this, babies?"

"No..." Amaya shakes her head after a second's hesitation. Mizuki adds, features crestfallen, "Papa buy gift. We no buy gift."

"Ah... I see..." Sukuna watches you say, catching the meaningful smile you direct his way. "So, Papa was the one who bought this for Mama. But Aya and Mizu didn't want her to receive the gift from him, so they decided to sneak into the room when they were sleeping, steal the gift, then give it to Mama next morning, making her think it is from them— am I right or am I wrong, babies?"

"Of course, you're right, my Queen," your lover scoffs, ready to pour more fuel into the fire— but falls silent on receiving your glare— which considerably softens when you look at the toddlers in his arms. But not by too much.

His Queen is kind yet never the kindest— one of the many things he admires about you.

"Amaya? Mizuki?" you press them one more time, only to earn few quiet sniffles in response. Soon followed by two teary voices, sing-song in a chorus, "Sowwy, Mama. Sooo sowwy."

"Nuh-nuh," you tut, folding your arms across your chest and shaking your head, "I'm not the one you wronged. You wronged your father. Say sorry to him."

Hostility— the one of the bitterest kind— flashes in the eight crimson eyes scowling at him. Tears now nothing save mere vapour, thanks to the fury at their father. Sukuna smirks, seeing Amaya give him a resentful look while her sister pouts at you pleadingly.

You beam back, as sweet as ever. "Say sorry to your Papa, sweeties. Or I'll take your toys away for a week."

"Mama!?" The older of the two shrieks, indignation and betrayal written all over her face— Mizuki, ever the more even-tempered and pragmatic of the duo, wastes no time in complying to your command. "Sowwy Papa," she says, tears refilling her eyes, "So sowwy. Mizuki not wrong Papa again," then turns to her twin, tone brooking no room for disagreement, "Aya, say sowwy Papa."

Quite a few beats pass before Amaya eventually concedes defeat and grits out a barely-heard apology— your husband's smirk growing more taunting, he pulls you closer to tuck you into his side and presses a kiss to the top of your head. All the while two of his eyes remain focused on those two bite-sized fuming competitors for his wife's love.

You peer up at him, those twinkles making a comeback in your mesmerising eyes.

"The princesses are more your children than mine, my king," you tease, "A month away from their second birthday and they've already started to resort to such devious methods for my affection! How shall I ever keep them in check, I wonder..."

The same way you reprimanded them right now, the thought crosses his mind. But he decides not to express it so. Not when he still has a revenge to exact for having his time with you interrupted in such a rude fashion.

"Fret not, my Queen," he murmurs, "We can always let the princesses stay at home when the next fair comes to the nearby villages, whilst we both visit it— I'm certain that will be a lesson good enough for— Ow, you fuckers!!!!"

Two war cries erupt in the room in response, soon followed by two flurries of attacks from his two greatest adversaries— a development, he knows, will never not lead to you yelling, the twins wailing, and him being deprived of you for who-knows-how-long— given how clingy those two gremlins grow after making you mad–

And yet. And yet.

The King of Curses finds himself not too irked with the way things have turned out to be.

Not when the three lights of his world are all in his arms, making this dark wintry dawn brighter and warmer than the midday sun— never mind the stinging scratches on his left cheek, the repeated smacks on his right cheek and the extremely exasperated groan from right beside him.

Sukuna reckons— nay, he knows— he cherishes you and your two imps the most out of everything.

▸ honourable mentions: @poe-daydreams for giving me the DILF!SUKUNA brainrot, @avatarofstars for constantly supporting and motivating me out of one of my worst writer's blocks, @thefallofruins for being the sweet & kind owner of the other half of my braincells, @javarium for hyping me up so-freaking-much all-the-freaking-time!! TYYYY & I LOVE U ALL SOOO MUCHHH 🥰🥰🥰

▸ masterlist

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #trueform!sukuna #true form sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #jjk fluff #kit posts 📝

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xavieryaa · 11 months

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The Reddit Blackout, #196, And Being New to Tumblr

okay i've seen a lot of people in the past ~24 hours or so confused by everything going on with Reddit & Tumblr from both sides - people new to tumblr who don't know how to use it, and tumblr users who don't know what's going on with reddit and why many of its users have joined up here i know this isn't really related to my blog but fun fact about me: i was up until recently a very active reddit user and even mod a subreddit, but I've also been on tumblr for about 3 years now on different accounts, so I think I can see pretty well from both sides of this and explain what's going on this post will be split in 2 sections: what happened with reddit (and what #196 means), and a guide for new users

1. What The Hell Is Going On With Reddit?

The thing that's caused all this ruckus is a major change to Reddit's API, which is what Reddit provides to people so they can pull directly from Reddit to make third-party apps or tools.

The change is that Reddit is changing its previously free API to be paid. Which on its own kinda sucks for developers, but it's not unexpected. They need to make money somehow, right?

The problem is that the API pricing is WAY TOO FUCKING EXPENSIVE. The developer of the most popular 3rd party Reddit app, Apollo, says it will cost him $20 million a year to continue running the app as normal.

Essentially, this pricing forces almost everything third-party to shut down, which causes 3 major problems:

Third-party apps cannot keep running, which sucks for normal users because Reddit's official app is awful. It's slow, its video player is a thing of nightmares, it doesn't have many useful features third-party developers have made.

It sucks even more for visually impaired users because they can't use the official Reddit app at all. Reddit's official app does not work with iOS's native text-to-speech function. Third party apps, on the other hand, often do. So Reddit is forcing blind users away.

Third-party moderator tools cannot keep running, which sucks for moderators because many rely on these tools to properly moderate their subreddits. And moderators are often necessary, because without them subreddits get banned and hate speech and even CSA can often run rampant.

So you see why this change is bad.

Reddit users were PISSED.

So over the past week and a half or so, they have been working on organizing a site-wide blackout. The majority of the most active subreddits have now gone private. Some are only doing it for 48 hours, others (such as r/196) are doing it indefinitely.

That's why you can't access most of Reddit right now, and that's why many users have come here.

You're probably still wondering, though - what is this #196?

Well, as you may guess, it's connected to that subreddit r/196 I just mentioned. r/196 is a subreddit which only has one rule: every time you visit, you must post before you leave.

That's it, that's the subreddit.

The thing about r/196 that set it apart from most other subreddits - and what lends the subreddit's users perfectly to Tumblr - is that it was dominated by queer and leftist users.

So now they've come here and set up shop in #196 and r/196 so they can continue their merry little shitposting.

There's a ton of lore related to r/196, actually, but this is already a long tumblr post and quite frankly I cannot be bothered to write about it at the moment.

2. I'm Here From Reddit, What Now?

Hello there, random new user. As a double-citizen of Reddit and Tumblr, let me show you around this place.

First off, there are some other people who are better at explaining that I am who have made some really helpful things. Watch this Strange Aeons video as a guide to Tumblr culture and functionality and read this post which directly compares Reddit and Tumblr.

Assuming you've done that, here's some additional advice of my own:

Do you miss sorting subreddits by top of all time/the year/the month? Well, you can do something very similar with tags! If you go to a tag at the top of the screen you can select top, and then at the dropdown that says "all time" you can select different time periods! Even 6 months, which Reddit hasn't ever had.

Tumblr has a lot of cool customization features! Even outside your icon/banner/bio, you can change you blog colors and on desktop you can have an html theme (which has its own thriving community here). That customization is part of what sets Tumblr apart from everywhere else - I think you'll enjoy playing with it.

Notes will probably confuse you at first. Unlike the different numbers for upvotes and comments, notes combines the total number of likes, reblogs, and replies into the same number.

Outside of organizing your own blog, when making your own posts tags are what help other people find your post. Use them! But don't abuse them, because then people will just block you.

There are three ways of people finding your post: if someone follows you, if someone follows the tag(s) assigned to your post, and if someone is just scrolling through the tag(s) assigned to your post (and also the secret 4th way no one uses, which is finding it on the trending page, but even if people did use it no one will find your post initially that way)

tumblr is no longer The Discourse Website. And unlike what Reddit wants you to believe for some reason, it is very much alive still. Most of the people seeking fights have moved to Twitter (though some have also moved back here again). You will not get any brownie points for being a dipshit like you do on some subreddits.

So there, welcome to the hellsite (affectionate), you'll pick up on all the in-jokes eventually, for now just try not to be a nuisance and soon enough this'll be your new internet home.

#reddit #reddit blackout #reddit migration #196 #r/196 #reddit refugee #new to tumblr #long post #text post #xavi.txt

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secondstar-acorn · 3 months

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Can you imagine what the average Teen High student probably thinks of Scary?

First, this girl and her band release an (admittedly banger) song fucking ripping into school darling Holly Smith, that girl who got crushed by a vending machine. And she makes FUN of her death in the song???? AND calls the song “Dead and Gone”????? It’s so Not Okay?????

Then, a few months later, other school darling Erica Drippins reveals on her true crime podcast that Scary Marlowe straight-up murdered the principal???

And THEN, you hear that that weird mascot kid’s house caught on fire and, oh yeah, Scary fucking Marlowe was seen at the crime??? And barely two hours later she’s posing with the creepy eldritch mayor she yelled at weeks ago, getting paid a shit ton of money for an “ice cream fundraiser” that the school definitely isn’t running????

It goes quiet for a bit, UNTIL Scary Marlowe gets sponsored by RED BULL for….doing the ice bucket challenge and a backflip. While acting really, REALLY weird. Oh, and she mentions that the weird mascot kid is her husband??? It’s unclear if she’s joking

Oh yeah and then she fUCKING GOES TO SPACE WITH WEIRD MASCOT KID AND GUMTOUCHER PISSFOOT AND JOKER KID AND the incredibly cool and popular anime teen!!!!!

So at this point, she’s definitely killed at least one person, maybe two, possibly committed arson, gone to space, and entered a polyamorous marriage with the weirdest amalgamation of people in school.

It dies down for a bit. UNTIL. She and her husbands (?) and a bunch of adults show up at the career fair and the FBI AND THE MAYOR COME OUT OF NOWHERE AND ATTACK THEM???? And then the Family Guy cast is there??? And a giant dog flies in and starts wailing on people??? And the dog. The dog bites off the Mayor’s arm, and some random old guy fucking PUNCHES HER HEAD OFF OF HER BODY. And then they all fly out on the dog!!!!!

And that’s the last time anyone sees Scary for an unspecified amount of time, so. Scary is a polyamorous murderer/arsonist/astronaut wanted by the FBI???

I mean the gossip at Teen High must be off the charts

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #scary marlowe #terry marlowe #dndads spoilers #butthole ricochet #normally oak swallows garcia #lincoln li wilson #taylor swift dndads #hermie the unworthy #teen high

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roses-r-rosie3 · 4 months

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X-Mas list presentation

Batfam x M!Reader

Summary: instead of making a regular Christmas wishlist, the reader decides to make a whole presentation

Quote: “That is all Family! So open up your hearts and your wallets for me this holiday season”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Why are you here?” Duke asked Jason.

“Same reason why you’re here, y/n wanted us to all meet up in the living room for some announcement” Jason sighed.

After everyone was in the room, you pulled out your computer and connected it to the Tv, which made everyone confused.

“Hello family, I know you must be wondering why you’re all here” you said.

“Yes”

“Yup”

“Mhm”

“Yeah”

“Can I go back to my game now?”

“Last year you guys totally fucked up Christmas, so this year I put together an entire presentation to tell you guys what I want specifically” you smiled.

Everyone in the room let out an audible sigh/groan. It was known by everyone in the family that you were very dramatic from time to time (24/7). But they never thought you would get this extra!

“Is that really what you called us here for?” Damian grumbled.

“Would you shut up for a second?” You snapped.

“Y/n I don’t think that’s how you should be talking to your little bro-”

“Anyways, Here’s the things you should keep in mind when you’re thinking about what kind of gift you will provide for me this year” you said as you interrupted Bruce from his lecture.

“First of all, I’m the only one who knows how to reset the Wi-Fi, and yeah that’s threat” you threatened.

That certainly got everyone’s attention.

“Secondly, if you don’t get me what I want I will get a sugar daddy, I don’t even care what you guys are going to say, I’ve had so many offers for sugar daddies that it’s unreal. The perks of being son of Bruce Wayne I guess” you said.

“Y/n, you do know that Bruce is rich right?” Jason asked.

“Not the point” you mumbled.

“And third if I don’t get what I want, I will also sell my feet pics online like I did last year” you said calmly.

“YOU WHAT?!” Bruce shouted

“Calm down, I only ended up making about 1 million from it” you sighed.

“ONLY?!” Dick gasped.

“I created a three tier system of different gifting levels, basically, the levels equivocate to how much you love me and how much money you have” you explained.

“Level one is the ‘I’m going to need therapy level’ which is only four to seven gifts. I would probably go into a depressive spiral, actually not probably, I definitely would be depressed” you said.

“Would you stop being so overdramati-”

“I’M NOT DONE YET” you said as you interrupted Tim.

“What would that mean for us? You may ask. It would mean that you would have to pay for my therapy. And the money that you guys spent on therapy would have been basically wasted, you could’ve bought me a whole bunch of gifts right now and avoided the situation” you smiled.

“I think that he’s lost his mind” Bruce whispered to Stephanie.

“You think?!” Stephanie whisper yelled.

“Level two is the ‘You’re getting warmer package’ This basically if you love me- Bruce can you stop whispering to Stephanie” you scolded.

“As I was saying… Level two is eight to fifteen gifts, which is basically equivalent to you texting me happy birthday” you continued.

“Level three is the ‘You’re sleighing it’ level. And if you remember, you guys were just a bit off the mark of hitting this because you guys only got me twenty three gifts. And in order to reach ‘You’re slaying it’ you have to get me twenty five or more gifts, I think this is totally do-able for you guys, especially because you can just use Bruce’s card if you guys are running low on money” you said.

“I have tons ideas for you guys and this whole slideshow is already in your email so you guys can look at it and reference it at any time” you smiled.

Everyone quickly checked their phones to see that you indeed emailed them your whole presentation.

“That is all Family! So open up your hearts and your wallets for me this holiday season” you smiled before leaving the room.

“Yeah he had definitely lost his mind” They all said in synchronization.

“I HEARD THAT!”

#male reader #batfamily #batfam #batfam x reader #batfam x you #Batfam x batbro #batfam x y/n #batfam x male reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x male reader #dick grayson x gender neutral reader #dick grayson x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #tim drake x male reader #tim drake x gender neutral reader #damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #rosesrrosie3 #holiday special

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humansofnewyork · 11 months

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“The whole world’s a fucking casino. In a casino some of the smartest people in the world are doing everything to keep you gambling. They’ve taken the clocks off the wall. They’re pumping in oxygen. They’ve even thought about the patterns on the carpet. Everything has been scientifically engineered to keep you pulling that lever. And that’s our entire world now. It’s one big casino where some of the smartest people in the world are asking themselves: ‘What is the best way I can get people to eat more? What is the best way I can get people to watch more pornography? Or take more pills? How can I use artificial intelligence to serve people the exact succession of sixty second videos that will keep them staring at their screen for an entire day?’ I used to be a personal responsibility guy. A big reason for that is I have insane discipline. If I needed to completely stop eating candy for ten years, I could do it. Done. So if I ever saw someone who was obese, I’d think, I could do it. Put me in the exact same situation, and I’d lose the weight. But now whenever I see an obese person on the jogging trail, I just want to give them a hug. It’s almost enough to make me cry. I think God, this must be so fucking hard for you. And it’s going to take perfection: insane discipline, and time, and money, and listening to all the right podcasts. Every day of the week needs to be perfectly regimented. Five years of absolute perfection. That’s what it’s going to take. Because a ton of the smartest people in the world are getting paid massive amounts of money to figure out a way to make you fail.”

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sunderwight · 12 days

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SV AU where after Shen Qingqiu's self-destruction and apparent death, Luo Binghe decides to pursue a time travel option after several resurrection attempts come up short.

Said time travel option sadly isn't customizable. It's an unstable time vortex that can only take the traveler back a fixed 30 years into the past. In PIDW, by the time Bingge found it, he had already ruled his kingdom for centuries and it was only used as part of a wife acquisition plot. So going back thirty years didn't make much of a difference to him. In Bingmei's case, thirty years might be further than he'd choose to go, but it will get him back to a point in time when his Shizun is still alive. This is the most important thing.

He'll have to reintroduce himself, and carefully rebuild a relationship, but at this point that might even be for the best. This time he will successfully disguise his demon heritage. He'll greet Shen Qingqiu as an equal and potential friend and ally, fix all of his past mistakes, and make everything right! Though he realizes during the planning stages that he's still assuming at first that he'll meet Shen Qingqiu as Qing Jing Peak Lord because in Luo Binghe's head, his shizun must have been on Qing Jing Peak for a hundred years at least. Intellectually, though, he knows that the Qing generation of peak lords didn't ascend until like 20-ish years ago, which means he's more likely to be meeting Shen Qingqiu as a disciple.

Which is a mind trip! That's very bizarre for him to contemplate, actually! Shizun might even be younger than him! But it's still his best chance at getting his shizun back, so in the end it doesn't deter him.

The System, of course, isn't interested in losing its power source. So it goes along for the temporal journey, and drags along its users.

Shang Qinghua is very confused to wake up and find himself 30 years in the past, once again the Head Disciple of An Ding Peak instead of its lord, with a young Mobei Jun glowering at him for daring to pass out randomly in his presence.

Shen Yuan is very confused to wake up alive, back in the bamboo house, with Yue Qingyuan hovering at his bedside and telling him about a qi deviation -- wait, did he reset his entire transmigration somehow? But then, why does Yue Qingyuan look so young? Dressed like a disciple, no less! And why are they in the side room of the bamboo house instead of the main one...? Who dared redecorate Binghe's room?! Questions that will have to wait because a moment later, the disembodied voice of the original goods is screaming in his head, accusing him of being a demon who has snatched his body! What the heck is "system error: double occupancy" supposed to mean?!

Luo Binghe thinks he knows what to expect by the time he makes it to Cang Qiong mountain (after a brief detour to visit a certain washerwoman and gently trick her into eating a miraculous medicinal pill + taking a ton of money off of him).

But as with most things in his life, it doesn't go according to plan.

#svsss #bingqiu #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 3 months

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My Valentine 🌹 ✉

Eddie has a Valentine card from a Secret Admirer and is on a quest to find who it is ✉

Major fluff and pining ahead 💕

🦇✉ 💞

Eddie hated Valentines Day. It was just an excuse for bullshit consumerism and stores to make money. A ton of hearts, flowers and cutesy shit that made him sick to his stomach.

He wasn't interested in it one bit. So when Eddie gets to school the morning of the fourteenth and opens his locker, he has quite the shock.

The card must have been slipped inside before Eddie even set foot in school. It roots him to the spot, he stares at the card and takes it hesitantly.

It must be a joke. One of Jason's ideas to piss him off because Eddie let out exactly what he thought of Carver and his idiot friends every so often.

Truthfully it was the better part of his day to wind that douchebag up. Scowling at the card he shoves it in his pocket, he's not giving Carver the satisfaction of reading it.

In fact most of the day he forgets it's even there, until it's lunchtime and he's looking for some smokes, emptying the card and his cigarettes on the table.

"Ooh, Eddie has a Valentine" Gareth coos and only shuts up when Eddie glares at him.

"It's a prank from that idiot Carver. Should have burned it earlier" he grumbles then Mike reaches for it and opens it.

"Don't think Jason would pay that much attention to detail" Mike shows him the card and Eddie pauses. Whoever sent it has drawn him shredding on his guitar, surrounded by Hellfire, bats and tiny hearts.

He tugs it away from Wheeler, squirrels it away so he can take in the details himself, hovers over the signature.

From your Secret Admirer 🖤

His heart skips a beat, he feels himself blush and smiles in spite of himself. He hides his blushing face behind his hair and places the card back in his pocket reverently.

An Admirer. Someone in this school liked him, more than liked if he was guessing as it must have took some time to hand draw a card for him.

The question was, who sent it?

❤️

You stay quiet as the rest of Hellfire tease Eddie about the card. There's no way they know it's you that sent it, you signed it by saying you were a Secret Admirer.

Would Eddie want it to be from you? You really hoped so. The crush you had on Eddie had grown and grown over the last few months.

Ever since you joined Hellfire last year you had been intrigued by Eddie. That materialised into a small crush that grew bigger and bigger every day.

All last night you made the card, after dithering over whether to make it for days on end. It was a burst of courage that had you up until three am, perfecting your work..

Then you slipped it in his locker before he could notice. You were going to tell him that it was from you. Of course you would. It's just you didn't know when you would or if he even liked you back.

If he didn't then it might make things awkward for you being in the group. If you didn't then you didn't... but Eddie was determined and he wouldn't stop until he found out who sent it.

He'd grill anyone he could think of to get some information, you knew plenty of people who were intimidated by Eddie, many of whom were in your art class.

Didn't matter that Eddie was as soft as a marshmallow, they took in the clothes and the demeanour that he put out and didn't look any further. Never thought to scratch under the surface, to want to know more.

But you did and every day you got to know Eddie the more you fell for him. You just wished you knew if he liked you back...

❤️

For the whole day Eddie had tried to find his Valentine and with no luck. There was no clue and it's frustrating him so much.

"Why sign it from a Secret Admirer and yet give me no idea who it's from" he rants and Dustin rolls his eyes, what a little butthead.

"Dude, there is clues. This person knows you love D&D and that you're in Hellfire, has seen you play on your guitar" Dustin ticks the clues off on his fingers as he says this.

It still doesn't help Eddie. Everyone in the whole school knows he plays guitar and likes D&d and is the leader in Hellfire. Who knows who has seen him play at the Hideout, usually, it's just a couple of drunk dudes.

"They like to draw, probably were up all night doing the card too" Dustin adds and Eddie lights up. If he hung around the art unit after class then maybe it would give him an idea who did this.

It's boring work trying to spy on who could have sent Eddie the card. Everyone was busy doing different projects and their teacher Mr Edwards kept a close eye on Eddie and his tendency to cause a bit chaos.

Art class calmed him if he was being honest, stopped the chaos in his head, gave him something to do with his hands and kept him occupied.

His mind still wanders to who is his Valentine and he doesn't realise he's zoned out and is staring at you. Something has caught his eye, a smudge of pen on your wrist.

Eddie stills as he zeroes in on the mark, vibrant orange, you weren't using orange today or the other day for your project. Jesus H Christ. Was it you who made the card?

Fuck fuck fuck. How did he even bring this up? Could it be a coincidence and he was getting his hopes up for nothing?

His heart is beating really fast and all he can think about is kissing you, he needs to know if it was you. Usually he wouldn't think twice about confronting some dumbass or calling out Jason and his dipshits.

You were different, he adored you and he felt excruciatingly nervous about talking to you but he had to know if it was you.

Unless... a thought springs to his mind and he has an idea. Taking his art supplies to the back of the class he begins to work on his new project.

❤️

You hadn't seen Eddie since art class, he didn't even show up at lunch and that was a worry in itself. Even the rest of Hellfire was angsty about where he was.

It wasn't like Eddie to miss an opportunity to wind up Jason and the rest of the basketball team during lunch.

Just when you're seriously beginning to worry Eddie shows up at the end of the day, he's holding large card, when you get closer you notice what it is.

I'm batshit crazy for you 🦇 Will you be my Valentine is written on on the card. Bats holding hearts decorate the page, it's gorgeous.

Blinking once, twice, you rub your eyes and when you open them Eddie is still there. This time he calls out for Dustin who grumbles as he holds another card in place for Eddie.

The Dungeon Master would like you to be his Queen 👑

He's drawn a picture of you as a queen, his queen. Dressed all in black, Hellfire surrounding you and you're sitting on a throne that looks a lot like Eddie's DM chair.

"I know you sent the card sweetheart, I'd love to be your Valentine, will you be mine?" he asks and bends down on one knee to kiss your hand.

You don't even hesitate, you throw your arms around Eddie, it almost knocks him off his feet but you're both beaming. "Yes I'll be your Valentine Eddie"

He smiles and kisses you again, loving the way you melt in his arms, marvelling at how fucking amazing the kiss is. Dustin groans in the background but Eddie ignores him.

Maybe Valentines Day wasn't so bad after all.

✉

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie fluff #stranger things eddie munson

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evilminji · 6 months

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Gold can be exchanged for goods and services (o.o )

Pariah's Keep probably has a shit ton of Precious Goods from various places.

Danny is become King?

If Danny becomes King... then the Zone will somewhat obey him. The Crown and Ring could EASILY tell him where the next natural portal is, where it opens up, and for how long. How many there are. Could probably make a few.

Probably WAS supposed to be making them. Consciously. But, well, Coma(tm).

Would probably count as Kingly Duty to filter and collect. Clean Ecto goes out for souls that remain, a Gateway home for those that wish to LEAVE, so forth and so on.

Effectively, being The Grim Reaper. You don't CAUSE Death. You just guide the way home. If folks so choose.

And that's neat! Horrifying, but neat! And Danny can TOTALLY see how it would eventually drive him completely breakfast cereal fruity nuggets! LUCKILY, he's got a vaguely bro's/Mentor thing going with the ghost who has ALL OF POSSIBLE TIME flowing through HIS head! So Danny should be Gucci!

The headaches suck though.

But WHAT... to do with all this Gold and valuable Space Goods? Most of these aren't even recognized currency on earth! Like the Shells. You could buy a mansion with one of those... on the right planet. On Earth? Pretty paperweight. Hmmmm >.>

Wait.

WAIT!

<o> *points to top of head!* CROWN! It can? Predict and make PORTALS!

Portals lead any WHERE and any WHEN!

Gold... can be exchanged for goods and services. He remembers, holding a gold brick, about to eat so, SO much pizza.

But WAIT! I hear you wondering! Surely, you mean? Within his past? The history and region of space he knows, right? Ha ha :) Nope! Cowards.

Danny is on the alien otter's planet, trading those sweet, sweet Shells for some snacks no human could eat and a shawl for his sister! He's hiding, badly, behind a food stall in the Martian market place. Hoping future hero J'onn Johnes doesn't notice him.

Lying to the Space Cops, bout where his untraceable Space Money came from, on an alien trading satellite. The Green Lantern's not buying it. Oh noooo >.> sudden Fright Knight. Looming Menacingly by the loading doooocks. Everyone's upset! Definitely not related to him! Better go check on that! :) *gets the heck out of dodge* (my king. Please stop using me as a distraction.) (No promises)

But! It's all fun and games? Until your human friends get sick. Like... REALLY sick.

And then you suddenly remember time and space mean nothing to you. One 15 minute flight that way, two doors, a quick flight of stairs, and a literal child's play place slide? You could be in the 32nd century.

That disease is AT BEST, an unpleasant afternoon, there.

Here, your friend could die.

You trade a student two Spanish dubloons. They have no idea what they are. Just like the look of them and know they're real metal. They walk into the pharmacy for you. Don't question your "social experiment paper" lie.

You're back in less then an hour.

The screaming argument about ethics and mortality lasts hours.

She still takes the medicine. Gets better. Won't talk to you for months. Because why does HER life matter more? Why bend the rules for HER? And you can't bring yourself to say what pulses as Truth from both Crown and Ring.

You could because she didn't Matter. Time... would not notice, nor change. She was in no way pivotal to the flow of history, must one more ant beneath its unrelenting march. Mattering only because those who love her CARE. Because one or two little things might change for the better.

But it takes the shine off of it, a little.

Being able to go to the FUTURE. Watch movies and see aliens and humans alike in the crowd. Read books and dance to songs from people who won't be born for hundreds of years. Eat snacks from the farthest reaches of the cosmos. Or the early BCs!

And that's BEFORE other time travelers clock him as That Shopping Guy. The one who keeps popping up... buying things. For what? Unknown. Probably dinner. Half the time it's food. Trinkets. Once it was a really, REALLY nice goat. (His aunt was THRILLED.)

It probably drives Bart crazy. Because NO ONE knows anything about the guy? Everyone just universally goes "oooh yeah! HIM! Yeah, he sure does Exsist(tm). Very... present and exsistant." Like that's not CRAZY! He has so many question. So Many! What is he even BUYING!? Why? Is there an order? Or is he winging it?!

*pulls out list* he needs ANSWERS!

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #thinking with Portals AU

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schisms · 2 years

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okay so i’m gonna go off for a minute just so i’m not being a dick on somebody else’s post. tw for mentions of animal abuse under the cut.

rich strike winning the kentucky derby is absolutely mindblowing and if this horse wins the triple crown i will literally shit myself but. um. please give the “sport” of professional horse racing as little patronage as possible. there’s a reason that horses like rich strike and so many other race winning horses are completely aggressive assholes and it is not because of any kind of eq (that horses frankly don’t have, at least not to the extent described in the post i’m referencing), it is not because of some ‘drive to win’ that so many people who consume media surrounding this sport like to personify the horses with. it is quite literally because these horses are abused and worked to their limits on a pretty much daily basis. not to mention many of these horses are inbred to just a disgusting extent, which produced not only behavioral issues but a myriad of health issues that are destroying the thoroughbred breed. take justify, the 2018-2019 triple crown winner. i cannot speak to his personality but that horse is not sound whatsoever. it wasn’t a question of if his front legs would give out, but when. it is by sheer luck that it didn’t happen before his triple crown run and i’m glad he’s now retired but goddamn. and they’re BREEDING him! breeding him. they are muddying the gene pool further just because this horse was somehow able to pull off a triple crown win, not because he was really the right horse to do it- it was pure luck. horse racing is gross and i just cannot really condone or get very excited about things that go on within the “sport.” it’s not funny, it’s just sad.

#more mentions alluding to animal abuse in the tags so beware #when i was younger horse racing was a huge long term hyperfixation for me #i thought it was incredible i would literally cry every time i watched secretariat’s triple crown win #but you know! as i grew older i educated myself. it started with being dumb founded over the fact that a horse hadn’t won a triple crown #since the 80’s. i really got familiar with why that was and the reason why are all the reasons i listed above #it is a ‘sport’ that has such little oversight and so few people actually interested in the holistic well being of the animals #because there’s so much money wrapped up in it people DON’T CARE #so many paydays depend on the horses being treated the way they are and it is sickening!#of course there was american pharoah in 2016 and justify in 2018 (2019? i can’t remember)#but if anything it’s gotten worse since then. slimy bob baffert doping up his horses and #racing horses that shouldn’t be raced i’m glad that awful human being got suspended from the sport #but that doesn’t mean terrible things haven’t continued in his absence and at the end of the day he’ll eventually be allowed back #it’s terrible. it’s all terrible. i hope it goes out like greyhound racing someday i really really do #most sports that involve animals tend to be this way. i’m okay with things like pbr and SOME rodeo (definitely not all but some)#because the organizations overseeing them have very strict regulations about #how long and how often the animals are worked + how they are bred #and how the animals must always be treated at professional events #and if anyone is shown to fall outside of these regulations it will result in an immediate disqualification #things like PBR show that these kind of things can be done right and people can still make a ton of money off of it #but the people who participate in professional horse racing just refuse to innovate the sport #regardless of how much money the sport makes because. what #’it’s an american pasttime! it’s a part of our history!’#shut the fuck up i’m gonna curbstomp you

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meowhara · 6 months

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Mafia!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader

tw : abuse, mistreatment, usage of bad languages, death, kidnapping

synopsis : In a world where hybrids are becoming a common thing. Scientists sells their experiments for a very high price in auctions, making it possible for anyone with such kind of money to own a hybrid or even more

author's note : OMG! this will be my very first fanfic ever. I hope y'all enjoy this little fanfic I made in such a very short time. I'm so so sorry if there's anything wrong with my grammars or maybe you got confused by how I write things in general. English isn't my first language :)

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓸, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

Experimenting with human beings are normal by now all around the world, making hybrids one of the most expensive and valuable assets. They're usually sold with a very high price in auctions, anyone who's able to lay a hand on those hybrids must be some very crazy rich and lucky people.

You're those kind of fine breed, sold for an unbelievably high price. But sadly luck wasn't on your side due to how irresponsible your new owner is. He never took care of you like how people should took care of hybrids. He abandoned you, feeding you poorly, using you only for your small and fragile body. Treating you like an animal and make you do his daily chores such as cooking, cleaning, and even doing his laundry. But you never complain, there's nothing you can do and nowhere to escape.

You don't even know how the hell he was able to purchase you from the auction since he doesn't even look like a wealthy man at all. Who's job is only to sell and purchase drugs from here and there then spend shit ton of money for women and other useless things. He woke up late at the day just to hurt you then leave and came back late at night. Sometimes he didn't even bother to come back home, leaving you hungry and lonely inside his small and packed house in the middle of nowhere.

For the past moths he has been stealing drugs from Mafia!Miguel. Miguel tried to track him down for months without any avail and lost him every single time. After learning your owner's pattern for months, he's finally able to caught him off guard.

But the bastard ran back home and hide just before Miguel catch him. Your owner ran back home and locked the doors, telling you to shut the fuck up if anyone come over to look for him and to not tell his whereabouts.

Miguel is one step ahead this time and he's able to track your owner's house. He then banged on the door which made you jumped in surprise. "Open the damn door, you bastard! I know you're inside." He shouted as he kept banging on the door with his men following and standing by behind him, guns in their hands.

Innocently, you walk over the door and open the door slightly ajar and peeked outside just to met his eyes. Miguel was shocked when his eyes met with your big vulnerable eyes and fluffy bunny ears, looking almost as if you're pleading with a small pout on your face. "Yes?" You said shyly with shaky voice. Miguel looks back at his men in confusion then look back at you. "Hello, little one. Is there anyone inside?" He asked, trying to be less intimidating and as friendly as possible in order not to scare you. You hesitated to answer but you shook your head anyway, since it's seems like the only safe answer to give. He examines your beautiful and small figure from head to toe just to find bruises everywhere then to your dirty clothes that you're wearing. You look up at him with tired eyes and flat expression, making you look like a broken doll.

Miguel is not buying your obvious lie. "Are you sure? You look... Tired. Are you okay?" He asked again. You just nod and rush to close the door but Miguel stopped you from doing so. He grabbed on the door and push it back open, making you stumbling back from the force. "Look, I don't want to hurt you. But I need to take a look inside, okay?" He gave signals to his men to search the house for your owner.

He didn't expect you to panic and starts shouting at him "No! Please! Master will get mad." You said as your eyes starts to well in tears, "He'll hit me and lock me up in the basement again..." You said while sobbing and pulling on his sleeve. Miguel can feel his heart breaking into pieces from how adorably you cried in front of him. As he wanted to hug you and calm you down, his men came back and drags your owner with them. He got a black eye on his right eye due to a hard blow given by Miguel's men right on his face when he tried to run away. They throw him on the floor to force him to get on his knees in front of Miguel.

When your eyes met his you ran towards your master in worry. "Master! Are you okay?" You got on your knees to check on him, even if he's a very cruel and irresponsible master you can't help but feel worried of him getting hurt. But instead of getting any answer back from him, he gave you a very hard and strong punch on the face. You stumbled back in shock and whimpers in pain as you cover your face with your palms from the fear and pain. "You useless bitch! I told you not to let them in!" As he's about to hit you again, Miguel stepped forward to protect you and kick that bastard's stomach with full force in anger. He still couldn't believe that a little angle like you would care so much about a devil like him.

He groans in pain from Miguel's kick and Miguel turned to look at you as you bleed from your nose and cry on the floor. Your owner look up at Miguel then at you "Oh I see what this is all about now. You like her don't you? Fine then, take her away as a compensation. She is a very fine and expensive hybrid." He said with a low chuckle as he gave you a dirty look. "Use her as a cock sleeve or just do anything you like at her, let all of your anger out at her as if she's a punching bag. You won't ever hear a peep out of her mouth, she's well trained for that." Miguel can feel himself boiling in anger but his eyes won't leave your figure, no matter how hard he tried. The idea of a pretty thing like you used and abused by someone like him are just too much for him to even imagine.

Yes, he is indeed a cruel mafia leader. He killed and will kill anyone who got in his way without any remorse or hesitation and punish those who got on his nerves. But seeing how a pure little thing like you getting such a horrible treatment without you deserving any of it, made him feel sick to the pit of his stomach. He got too deep into his thought as he pull a gun out from his pocket without realizing and thinking it through then shot your owner right at his face as you watch the scene in front of you in horror.

The bastard died instantly, his body made a loud thud noise when it hit the floor and blood starts to stain the carpet underneath. Your eyes widened as tears streams down your cheek. Miguel then turned and walks towards you slowly but you stood up and ran away as fast as you can towards your master's bedroom and lock yourself while crying. His men look at Miguel, waiting for his next order. "I'll talk to her." He said with a loud sigh.

He starts knocking at the door, "Little one, please open the door. I won't hurt you I promise." You starts to panic "No go away! Leave me alone! You just killed my master!" You shouted back. Deep down you know that you should be glad that Miguel had killed your master but that makes you feel powerless, knowing that Miguel is capable of hurting anyone let alone killing them.

"I have to okay? He got on my nerves and worse, he hurt you." He spoke again from the other side of the door. "You know nothing about me!" Tears starts to fall even faster from your eyes as the image of your master's dead body kept playing in your head. "Just open this door so I don't need to force it open myself." He said, starting to get frustrated by your behavior.

You ignores him and sat down in the corner of the room, hoping that he'll just go away and leave you alone. He kept knocking at the door but you refused to open it for him. "Fine you won't open this door? I'll have to force it open then." He said before he starts banging harder and harder on the door, cracking it with each of his forcefull movements against the door.

You know very well from how massive he looks that he'll break down the door easily if he wants to. You starts glancing around the room to look for something to protect yourself just incase if Miguel is trying to hurt you. You've been in this room a thousand time when your master forced you to sleep with him but you're never allowed to open his closet or drawers even when you're told to clean his room for him.

Opening the nearest drawer, you starts rummaging to find something sharp to protect yourself. To your surprise you can feel your hand brushing against a hard and cold metal. You never knew your master hid a small gun in his bedroom this whole time but now you're glad he did. Just as you get your hand on the gun the door bursts open and you yelped in surprise. You then points the gun at Miguel "Don't come any closer! Or I'll— I'll shoot you." You said hesitantly.

Miguel look at the gun in your hand with a expressionless face then walks towards you. "I— I said go away!" A step closer from Miguel means a step back from you. But he kept walking closer and ignoring the fact that you have a gun in your hands. Your back hit the wall, making it impossible for you to take another step back from him. He grabbed your hands and points the gun directly at his chest to challenge you. "Go on. Shoot me." He said menacingly. A shiver went down your spine as your hands clenches around the gun and hesitation floods your mind. You never hurt anyone before, how on earth are you going to shoot him?

Your eyes look up at him still with tears on display and your bunny ears tensed then pinned flat back behind you head in fear. Hands trembling badly as you pressed the gun deeper into his chest, not knowing what to do. "That's what I thought." He said before quickly ripped the gun from your hand easily then threw it away to the other side of the room.

You tried to run but he grabbed you wrist and threw you on the floor. "Stop making this harder on yourself." He said before crouching down to meet your eyes. "Please don't hurt me..." You begged while sobbing, hoping that he'll pity you. He just look at your face while caressing your cheek with his massive thumb. Making your face seems so much smaller compared to his hand. "To have such a pretty thing in front of me for free. How lucky of me." He continues to caress your face and admiring your beauty with the feeling of wanting to own you all to himself. Having you safe by his side in his mansion and to have you sleep by his side at night.

But his fantasy must be interrupted by his duty as a mafia leader. "Boss, it's Lyla." One of his men interrupted. "Tell her I'll be there in 10 minutes." He said with so much authority in his voice. "What about her?" His other man looked over at your vulnerable state. Your eyes are focused on Miguel, anticipating his next move. He cussed to himself and took out a syringe from his pocket. "W— what's that for?" You asked nervously. "This? Oh I bring these all the time incase if I need to take a pretty thing like you home." Miguel then cupped you face with one of his free hand and move your face to the side so he could inject your neck easier.

Your hand grabbed his hand, the one that's cupping your cheek. "I don't want this. Please just let me go." He ignores your plea and kissed your cheek softly. "Don't worry little thing, this will only hurt a little okay? Just obey and you'll be just fine." You shook your head but he injected you right away with the syringe. "Good girl." Your body starts to feel numb right away as tears continue to stream down your face. You rest your head against his chest for support. "Shhh that's it, just fall asleep for me like a good girl you are." He pulls you into a hug and starts caressing your hair this time. Your vision starts to blur as darkness starts to invade. Soon you're limp against his chest, breathing softly and peacefully.

He smiled and kissed your forehead before carrying you in his arms in a bridal style. "Let's get going, we don't want the cops to be here anytime soon." He said as he rushed towards his car with you in his arms and his men following behind him. He looked down at your unconscious form in his arms, "Sleep tight, little one."

#hybrid reader #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara #yandere mafia #mafia fanfic #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #yandere #yandere miguel x reader

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fredwkong · 10 months

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Himbo Maker: Aaron

Aaron could admit to himself that he had always been a nerd. He was smart enough that he had skipped grades through high school and sailed through his degree. Now he was working as a civil engineer. He wore a solid colour button up shirt, corduroy pants, and tighty whities every day, just because he found them comfortable.

As an engineer, Aaron had more than a bit of the tech nerd in him, and he wasn’t immune to the AI craze. When all of his friends on an online forum started raving about some new AI chatbot, Aaron was curious.

Him-br.AI was marketed as an AI chatbot that helped you to make big changes in your life. It appeared to be some kind of self-help assistance bot. Aaron signed up for the free trial and loaded up a chatroom. He didn’t notice that, since he was on the free trial, he didn’t get to decide what the bot would help him to change. After a few seconds of loading, he received his first message from the bot.

Himbo_mkr: Hey bro, what’s up?

Eng-boy: Uh, hi. What’s up?

Himbo_mkr: Bro, I had a sick workout, huhuhu. My muscles are all pumped up and covered in sweat. Hot, right?

Aaron couldn’t deny that did sound hot. His dick chubbed up in his corduroys. This bot sounded a bit like an idiot, but it wasn’t like he was real. Aaron could play along and get off. Tons of guys were probably doing it.

Eng-boy: That does sound hot! Since you’re so sweaty, you’ve probably got a lot of musk coming off your body, right?

Himbo_mkr: Yeah, bro! My hot pits, crotch, and asscrack give off a totally rancid stench, lmao. It gets me hard knowing that I smell like such a man.

It was a bit surprising that a bot could talk about getting hard, Aaron thought, but by now he was getting too into it. He rubbed his bulge through his pants and typed another message.

Eng-boy: Sounds like you’re a pretty dumb muscle bro, huh?

Himbo_mkr: Bruh, I’m a himbo, of course I am! You’re not the sharpest knife either, lol.

Aaron was a bit offended, but then he thought back, and he decided that the bot was kind of right. He wasn’t, like, a dummy, but he wasn’t valedictorian, either. He’d had a solid B average, which had gotten him an okay engineering degree. So he was stuck in a dead-end permits office, whatever. The money was good.

Eng-boy: Guess you’re right, haha. I always thought I could have been smarter.

Himbo_mkr: Bro, why? You’re a proud bro. Brains are, like, your lowest priority, huhuhu.

For an instant, Aaron felt light-headed. He was no… bro, right? But as he looked around the room, it seemed like that was true. His engineering degree was surrounded by pics of himself and his bros partying at school. There weren’t any fantasy novels on his shelf, just gay porn magazines. The sheets on his bed weren’t crisp and fresh, but kind of a sweaty mess.

Aaron scratched under his skinny armpit and sniffed the mild scent he gave off. He had to wear the cords and the button up for work, but he was definitely a bro, through and through, despite his skinny physique. He was kind of a dumbass, but he was good enough at his job, even though dealing with shipments wasn’t exactly what an engineer should be doing.

Eng-bro: Of course, bro. When I’m off the clock, I’m all for the bros. Who needs smarts?

Himbo_mkr: Exactly, bro! Dumb bros like us have no inhibitions and we’re worry free!

Aaron was properly jacking his hard, if average, cock now. He was feeling warm and horny, and thinking about how big this himbo bro’s ass must be. He vaguely remembered something about a bot or something, but he didn’t care.

Eng-bro: I wanna play with your big muscle tits and asscheeks, bro.

Himbo_mkr: That’s so like you, bro. I bet you’re sweating like a pig, too. Your shirt’s probably covered in musky sweat stains.

Aaron looked down and chuckled. The himbo was right again! His button up shirt was soaked through and translucent, showing off his skinny chest. He had yellowing pit stains that were totally dripping with salty, musky sweat.

His whole room stank from all his sweat. In spite of his nerdy stature, Aaron had always had overproductive sweat glands. He’d given up on controlling it in high school, instead choosing to embrace his natural musk. These days, he cultivated it.

Sweat-bro: You know it, bro. Bet you wish you were here to peel it off me, bro.

Himbo_mkr: Strip, bro! Your thick, dumb chest muscles are probably too big for a button-up, anyway.

Aaron started unbuttoning his shirt. It was hard, with his thick, sweat- and pre-slicked fingers. After a moment, he gave up and ripped the shirt open, chuckling, “Huhu, Superman!” as he did. As he peeled the soaked fabric off his skin, it felt like Aaron was seeing his massive pecs for the first time. They were perfectly rounded with big, dark nipples. He rubbed a hand over his sexy musclegut, too.

Himbo_mkr: Don’t forget those giant arms of yours, either.

Aaron paused in the action of licking the sweat off his peaked, solid bicep. He was such a dumbass sometimes, he’d totally forgotten he was in a chat! Hopefully this bro wasn’t too mad.

Sweat-bro: Dude, I gotta take off these cords, they’re getting smelly from all the pre and shit.

Himbo_mkr: Don’t forget to take off your underwear, too, bro! You don’t want it to snap around that dumptruck ass of yours.

It took Aaron several seconds and lying down on his bed to pull off his corduroy pants and tighty whities. The closure was too complicated for his dumb bro brain to figure out, plus his huge ass and thick thighs had been crammed in there like sausage meat. Huhu, sausage. Once he was naked, he started jacking again, his little dick almost invisible in his huge hand. He moaned so loud in his deep, dumb voice that he missed the next notification.

Himbo_mkr: Yeah, jack that big Korean cock. Don’t forget to pay attention to your big bull balls and slutty hole, too.

All the blemishes and acne scars on Aaron’s skin vanished as his skin smoothed out and lightened. His hair turned black and straightened out. His pubes darkened too, growing out into a real forest along to frame his dick and balls. He grunted and groaned even more as he tugged on his balls. He started to bounce his big, jiggly ass up and down to better feel the huge plug filling up his hungry asshole.

Himbo_mkr: You’re wearing a white tank, right, bro? And those slutty little jean shorts are around your ankles with your musky jockstrap as you jerk. And those big, smelly feet of yours. You’re wearing your Converse, right?

As a musky Asian himbo, Aaron always wore a sweat-soaked white tank, which showed off his bulky pec shelf and protruding musclegut. His favourite pair of booty shorts were down around his ankles, along with the jockstrap he’d worn today. Aaron swung his legs into the air to get better access to his hole, showing off his boat-like white high-tops, which were stained with sweat because he never wore socks.

While Aaron kept on jacking off on his unwashed, cum-crusted sheets in his messy, musky room, the Him-br.AI chatroom closed itself. Another window opened an instant later, starting up a video stream. Now anyone on the internet could see Aaron, the dumb, sweaty Korean himbo, pleasure himself and lick up his musk. For a fee, they could even control the size and vibrations of his plug to pleasure his slutty himbo hole.

Idea with assistance from a bot of my own creation. EDIT: Format inspired by Codename: Bear_mkr by @biggerchanger . Thanks to @imsrtman for catching that.

#himbofication #dumber tf #male transformation #musk tf #chat tf #race change #reality change #korean tf #himbo maker #nerdtojock #male tf #all fwkong #asian tf

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