#White Women Killed Yoga

[sanguineterrain]

restroom attendant | jason todd

Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.

A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)

the divider

Tonight sucks. 

With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years. 

Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.

You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you. 

You’re starting to think this city is cursed.

The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.

A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily. 

Yep. Definitely cursed.

"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."

He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress. 

"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor. 

"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”

“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”

“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"

Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs. 

"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."

Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.

“Motherfucker,” you whisper. 

Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.

“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”

“No,” you say, voice shaky.

His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”

“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”

Red Hood gives the room a onceover. 

“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails. 

“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.” 

“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse. 

“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”

Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet. 

“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”

“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask. 

Hood jerks, turning back to you.

“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”

You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”

He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers. 

“How come?” Hood asks.

You shake your head. “It's nothing.”

“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”

“I'm not in danger. I…”

You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.

What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry. 

“I got dumped,” you say. 

“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”

Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.

You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”

You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.

“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”

“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling. 

“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach. 

“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.

Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”

You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles. 

Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”

You catch your breath and wave your hand. 

“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”

“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”

“As tempting as that is, I don���t want to be an accessory to a crime.”

You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.

“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”

You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”

“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”

“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face. 

“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”

Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.

“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”

You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”

“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”

You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”

“You’d win that bet. But I—”

The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you. 

“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”

Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.” 

He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”

Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”

“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”

He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit. 

You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you. 

Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.

“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”

“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”

“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.

“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”

“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”

He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper. 

“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”

Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. 

He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.

“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”

Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes. 

Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in. 

You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.

“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu. 

“I didn’t order this,” you say.

“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.” 

“Oh. Thank you.”

You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.

[animezinglife]

ACOTAR Headcanons - Gym AU Edition

Some just-for-fun and weirdly specific headcanons based on my own very regular observations.

Feyre: Feyre is actually pretty typical in terms of gymgoing, who tends to fall into her own zone once she has her playlist up and running. She usually starts on the treadmill and people watches before fully getting into her own zone and opting for intuitive workouts that feel right for her at the time rather than going for strict programs or plans. She doesn't sweat. She glistens. She keeps her attire pretty practical with classic, neutral leggings and a tank top. Often shows up with Rhys even though they separate to do their own thing. Honestly, everyone kind of just likes Feyre even if they don't really know her.

Elain: The Soft Gym Girl™ aesthetic incarnate and the social butterfly who makes friends with everyone in her group fitness classes. Is adored by all the older ladies who work out there and knows them all on a first-name basis, and they bond over gardening. Always has her yoga mat and shows up in paler colors and can fearlessly rock a white 'fit, often with a light wrap sweater or cardigan over her workout clothes. She somehow still always looks put-together and perfect after a workout, a low ponytail with curls/waves still intact and hint of color on her cheeks that makes it look more like she's blushing and less like she's just worked out for an hour. Don't underestimate her, though: she can hold her own in any group fitness class and loves the way they leave her feeling.

Nesta: Don't Talk to Me™. Grandmaster of the RBF, who pulls her hair back tightly in a neat, low bun or severe braid so that no strands stray from their place. She will glare at anyone who tries to speak to her/distract her and will usually completely ignore anyone who makes that attempt without even taking off her headphones. Also looks crazy hot despite it all and opts for sleek, plainer, dark outfits (usually matching sets) in cuts that show off her lean, strong form. Only shows up when she feels like it but somehow doesn't lose strength or stamina.

Amren: The Small But Mighty™, who like Nesta falls a little more into the RBF category but also gains a lot of attention by the absolutely stupid amount of weight she moves for her small stature. She's also the one you never quite know what you'll see doing: she might be deadlifting the weight of two Cassians, or she might be pulling some calisthenics in the corner. Nobody knows much about her. Nobody asks. Has been witnessed talking to Nesta; so far the only time the regulars have seen the former smile.

Mor: Bold Gear Girl. She has no fear when it comes to her wardrobe and will wear anything from unforgiving red leggings, to a bodysuit, to a one-strap sports bra. She knows she looks good and isn't afraid to flaunt what she's got, but she also gets in her zone and can keep up with the best of them in just about any type of exercise. She likes taking classes with others and absolutely kills it in Zumba, but she'll just as easily kill it in kickboxing. Also much stronger than her feminine, curvy frame gives away. When that belt goes on (and it's definitely pink), it's game time.

Rhys: Despite being called "out of shape" by Cassian and Azriel, Rhys is anything but. Like Feyre, he tends to not stand out too much aside from his looks and presence, but definitely still gets noticed for his beauty and sensuality by all the women (and a few men). Definitely dressed head-to-toe in name brand gear that fits his body beautifully to the point of being sinful. The Pretty One™ that's caused at least one gym girlie to walk into a wall or trip over something while trying to watch him. Often shows up with Feyre even though they separate to do their own thing. Has big Married Man and Loyal energy. Wears his wedding ring through every single workout. Silently judges really bad gym 'fits with Feyre. The old ladies who work out there are convinced he's the guy from their sexy billionaire romance novels and they absolutely talk fantasies about him over lunch afterwards.

Cassian: The Fit Pro™. The Trainer, unofficial or otherwise who has the training and education to know exactly how to train his body and others' to maximize both efficiency and benefits. This man is Strong™. He's also built a social media following and has accidentally become something like an influencer because of his funny, easygoing personality and wicked smile. May or may not be hypped up on pre-workout. He will program the perfect workout to meet his friends' goals but is also excellent at improvising. Always willing to train his friends. Unironically and completely intentionally wearing The Sweatpants™. The only man brave enough to ask Nesta how many reps she has left or crazy enough to do so while grinning. Will not do yoga or Zumba. Is convinced both would cause him irreparable injury. Surprisingly agile and quick with rock climbing despite his size. Cannot be left unsupervised for too long. Is universally loved by all of the old ladies and hugs them. The old men really like him too and like to share "back in my day" stories when they used to lift a lot more weight, too. Got kicked out of Planet Fitness.

Azriel: The Strong and Silent Walking Sin™, who always has his headphones on, is always wearing all black, and considers muscle-up ring dips a normal part of his warm-up. This man shows up in layers of black gym gear and is peak V-shape aesthetic, with the kind of shoulder-waist ratio that makes other guys simultaneously jealous and question their sexuality. Nobody knows much of anything about him, but he never misses a workout and he's too many people's gym crush. When that hoodie/pump cover comes off, it's all over. Hits the mat with MMA guys or Cassian on occasion and forces a submission with the former fast. He always knows more about you than you know about him and has probably somehow overheard every conversation you never wanted him to.

Lucien: Simultaneously the Endurance Guy™ and the Social Butterfly™ with a well-rounded, smart training plan. Sure, he's not as big as Cassian or as intense as Azriel, but he's also no slouch when it comes to strength training and is regularly underestimated in it despite his strong, fit body. King of bodyweight exercises with crazy stamina. He's the guy who will overlap you ten times over on the track without breaking a sweat while you're dying. He isn't as quickly noticed when he walks in, but the ones who notice him do so thoroughly. Aesthetics are his middle name. Will kick your ass in a Spartan--only Azriel and Cassian can really compete with him there. Lucien's top of the line in terms of speed and overall agility. Knows everybody's business, but keeps it to himself. Will tease you a little, but will also help you out if you have a question. Likes to wrap things up by lounging by the pool during the warm seasons. Seems like he's spent a lot of time outdoors. Can also handle the rock wall and bouldering like a pro. The old ladies absolutely adore him and keep trying to set him up with their granddaughters.

Tamlin: Pretty, But Distant. Tamlin keeps to himself and focuses mostly on strength training through weightlifting. He's strong as hell but isn't necessarily pushing himself too hard for a new PR. Never asks for a spotter and takes a few seconds too many switching through songs on his playlist. He does genuinely look good, but currently isn't putting off the vibe of someone you could get close to. Not quite getting those revenge reps from his messy breakup in yet, but he's getting there. Raises an eyebrow and stares at grunters with a look of mild annoyance, then ends up moving far more weight with ease and in silence. Unclear if this is out of pettiness or not (but it's low-key funny af).

Ianthe: The Influencer™ with a full face of makeup, a one-strapped sports bra, and the up-the-ass bike shorts trying to get the perfect selfie. Is sitting on the equipment far too long and is starting to annoy people. Spends more time finding the perfect lighting, walking around the gym trying to pick up men, and somehow always being at the front of the weight room doing hip thrusts or bent-over rows with 2 lb. dumbbells. Makes eye contact on the hip abductor.

Jurian: Slightly loud and a little competitive, but also can usually back up his talk and what he's able to accomplish. This guy occasionally disappears at random, but is overall consistent and somehow knows everybody's business (and will bring it up). Probably the one grunting at the same amount of weight Amren's deadlifting.

Tarquin: The Fish™. This man is in the pool at 5:00 a.m. every day and swims a number of laps so smoothly and quickly that Ryan Lochte is nearly able to construct a coherent sentence. When he's not in the pool, he's quietly drifting around the weight room and resistance machines. King of the lat pull-downs. He's pretty sensible overall and doesn't stand out too much outside of the pool even though he looks amazing. Also a popular choice among the old lady crowd. Had to kick Cassian out of Planet Fitness.

Varian: Amren's shadow and designated spotter even though she doesn't need one. Nobody's entirely sure what he does. He kind of just hangs out.

Helion: Gym Daddy™. Helion brings as much knowledge to the floor as he brings swagger. It's hard not to notice him and he's strong af, but somehow makes everything he does look easy and like he's not even trying. Has definitely messed with Cassian at one point or another by "easily" moving a close-to-max weight while carrying on a conversation. Somehow makes everything look slightly sexual even if unintentionally. Keeps thorough records of his training sessions and almost always has a small notebook or notepad with him to do so.

Thesan: The Machines Guy. Thesan likes a workout where he can focus and get into his own zone, and he likes to do so a bit more quietly and on his own time. He's not competitive. He's just here for his health, but is polite if approached. He's fit but isn't the heavy lifter or endurance guy that some of the others are. Pretty generally well-liked; isn't sure how to answer the sweet old ladies' comments about them "having a granddaughter!" for him but is polite about it anyway.

Sorry, I don't know Eris, Emerie, Vassa, etc. enough yet to include them, so feel free to add on!

[r1kysblog]

Gonna talk abt should have killed ozai,

Tbh, no, he shouldn't. Ang is still a kid, but most of all, he's still not established into his being yet, whether you see it as his Avatar spirit, or he's just woke up from a 100 yr old rest, that just to much for a 12 yr old child, it's believed in yoga that from the child's birth to 12 yrs of age, they should only ever be playing and eating well, and from 12 to 21 study time, to learn the mechanics of how there life works, 12 is a milestone for human life, 12 is wen a child is most receptive to force or energy, Ang had just been given energy bending, if ozai death had of happen then ozai death would have had an influence on Ang young life, a strong influence too, both in yoga and in, indigenous culture, during the passing of love ones, or in general a feneral, people tend to take special care of both the women and children, the life that was one's in the dead body is trying to find a new body, we want to protect the women whether she pregnant or on her period, from being invaded, and the young life's of the children, because children are still developing themselves and we don't want the forces of the death to influence child,

Ang killing ozai would have been bad, and I'm talking really bad because despite his prodigious nature, he must bend the knee to the forces of life, just life the sun and moon plays its part influenceing benders, soo to does Energy, the influence of death, memory, guilt, shame, love happiness, joy, jealousy, is a force of energy and each one is not easy to live threw if it is not harness properly,

Ang know death, and he has seen death, his name means death because he's both the last of a dead people, and is the one reason they are dead, with this level of energy on his head, to add ozai life on his head would be the world's last and final mistake,

Don't forget he's only 12 yrs, he's not expected to train for the Avatar until he was 16, soo if a little malfunction happens with him, then that's the white lotus fault for not delaying the coming battle until he was 16,

But if he did kill ozai, then what I think will happen is,

He will see himself as a failure to his people and then to the world, because he won't have the strength to carry the Avatar duty, or be able to look anyone in the eye because he doesn't believe he's a true Air nomad, he will fail the Avatar because he won't want any children, just abt anyone can see the Avatar has served the world for a long time, Ang being the guy that just wanted to be normal kid and Air nomad, not the Avatar, bound to consider both the world a cruel and an undesirable places, and his own life as Nothing but a misfortune, will seek to bring justice but according to his own ideals, Ang may not ever listen to the wisest voice and dethrone every power player in atla, katara may never have an honest places by Ang side, and he may throw the whole world into darkness,

The influence of death on a child energy, could tip a single human life into chaos, thus spread like a black plague,

The End

[myforrest2]

Comedy ideas

Slave robots

Price to let me fuck your wife

Dating dos and don’t and questions

Pro-nouns- trans

Crying over your favorite vagina

Women are expensive

Date when I have leverage

Tik tok physically abusive ps

black women giving u add

grieving and gettin pussy

nobody takes light skinned niggas seriously

i hate beige niggas with good hair

the short dude of the beiges

living a lie

gotta know how to fight

i'm over qualified to date

AA meeting

so much so i became a social worker

coworker said i dated white women

waist bead killa

ask your homegirl about the last nigga that scammed her

progressive women

Dating

1. the apps (virgos, spelman women, big titty taurus

2. vasectomy before it was fashionable

3. kids have and want more

4. meeting (questions)

5. aids commercials during hulu and chill

6. dog in bed

7. stress and ED

8. being 19 and 40

9. learned all the words women use capacity

10. i got a dick but i got feelings 2

11. munch love myself too much

12. divorce how they really feel

13. dv abd blueface show

14. quantum leap

how many dicks would u suck to get your student loans forgiven

my friends have kids and i dont have stufent loans . latest flex

off and on the apps

only reason im tryin to date again is cuz i heard my upstairs neighbor having sex

dr umar shaking head whenever i swipe right on a white girl

Apache open mic

2friday comedy at 9

tuesday at 8

wednesday 9

Dark Humor. Button up, Buttercup

Hershel Walker hit his wife using his hands.

Raphael Warnock hit his wife with the car and ran over her foot.

Raphael currently has a 48% to 45% lead amongst polled college students in Georgia.

This does not surprise me because today's young students do not support employment using their hands.

emotionally unavailable BW

to women with low self esteem

but too shallow

in 2023 i am giving up emotionally unavailable black women

Waffle house reality show

football now like watching condom sex

africa sex with condom

bag of vaginas to make life easier

interview grandmas that fucked wilt chamberlain

i dare you to ask your granny if she fucked wilt.

moving to ghana off 30k

chlamydia the bv of stds

fucked 3 in one day

them/they pussy

trans vs cis

price of pussy

bag of pussy

quantum leap

tik tok

snow on the bluff

yoga nude

yoga teacher

RIP t-shirt with my dad air brushed

big scarr's funeral. shot a video

dated a bitch 2 abortions

bitch cried during sex

vasectomy . i am the plan b

abortions

trapeze

laughing skull gay niggas

autistic gay phase

trans men

trans women cut ur dick off

gay niggas walk like spike lee movies

booty os

roaches in atl

child support

harvey weinstein had sick dick

3some etiquite

better pussy

retarded brother

fought white boy in 6th grade

tyrone's brother

dating a virgo

being terrified on stage

played sax in the church band

black moms

kamala harris ending unemployment

my aunt was drooling on herself had diabetic dimensia

had maw maw shook

having to ask mom if i could spend the night

cousins house

women hate the truth kryptonite

low self esteem pussy

dad's heart attack/chest pains

fraternities

dj pauls arm

being a black vet is hard

prisoners get more respect

iraq was like work release abroad

people that watch who follows who

hamlin scam. i need more friends. loner

andrew gillum cau/morehouse grad

cuckold stories. police officer

switching genders

iggy azaela earned 307 k in 24 hours. if inwas a woman i'd never b broke

trans men going thru puberty

Critical race theory should have been called cool race theory

the truth/accountability is pussy kryptonite

walk thru meg/tory kelsey shot meg. who had more of the motive. women lie like dudes. Meg is OJ for Black women

men tell little lies. women tell BIG Lies

ask who is paying child support

how much

dude that made 7.50 and hour paying 1.49 a month

dude that killed his wife

CS a scam

happy wife happy life

i miss my work wife

memphis cops

picking a trauma

chlamydia

bacterial vaginosis for men

asian on asian crime

gook on gook crime

being a husband is like being a post op trans woman

cool race theory

happy wife happy life

Unfaithful movie

SK victims homeless Black women

plotting m*****

plantation game

harriet tubman 360 deals

who got better pussy? (ask women sitting next to each other)

autism

lazy white people

slavery a pretty cool concept

having a white slave in the army

whole skit on asians

y we hate canada y canada hates us

first nigga to die in a chicago winter

eastern and western borders

god b scammin trans people

levels to lgbt self hate

ye and cudi fuckin

dv jokes

got dad's pocket pussy bronzed

next to vet flag

bronze shoes

dad was a shooter

cps stories

fuckin kids' teachers

the trans people of black folks being light skinned

the brotha darkness show interviews with comics

fight haven wheelchair

vday wish i ckuld get somebody pregnant but cant

cjild support but wont pay for pussy

dfcs stories

pet store kid in kennel

broke up white family extended stay

teachers getting beat up by students

Ms. Ringo 7th grade science teacher

teacher killed by school principal

praying grandma

got more respect for the post op trans

uber beats

dabrat pregnant at 48 touch of downs

aint smelled a cig in years. vapes keeping the cancer to yourself

women get to be honest men cant

women live lies

i hate being light skimned. the kind that keeps me alivle

abortion. women fucked it up. covid amazon then war

deaf people doin stand up

aaron rodgers darkness retreat fancy solitary confinement

favorite vagina cry after i jack off

synthetic vagina

dd214 is out paper work

my skin is light but my comedy is dark

church revival

vasectomy like having a slorts car

michael jackson live vocals

domestic violence turns me on

alex murdaugh

xylazine addicts zombie drugs

medical studies

sou sou circle

it's cool to be retarded now

ol girl asked about student loans. should have asked if she would have sucked me off

joined the army cuz i was poor and had a cavity

how do u want to b murdered? true crime hoes

keith lee cholesteral

eating videos

molested by neighbors daughter

have u been molested?

coochie is an acquired taste like beer

reparations what would u b willing to trade?

part white so i look at black people how straights look at the pronoun gang

killing your kids

shamiya hall

cps ptsd

are men softer. evolution

rose party

first pussy i ate

work release abroad

kidnapped in mexico

conjoined twins

church

pull all the genders

molested

lt dan

dad no indoor plumbing

mom killed autistic son threw in lake

pussy on the block chain put the bitch on the block chain

me too made niggas do an audit of their sexual history

baby holocaust

keepin a bitch happy is stressful

crying on tiktok

chris rocks goal was to keep his daughter off the pole mine is to not see my daughter on reddit

grocery store the special alympics

no relationship no raw

slap fights

do people still get crabs?

alien pussy

gender trades

utah cabin murders

da brat's baby gonna have a touch of Downs

do synthetic coochies get stds

how big of a screen do u watch porn on

roe v wade

cant b gay if u axe throw. no limp wrists

if she's good at axe throwing, she will kill u

ms cleo brand tarot cards

retard beef . downs vs. Non verbal autistic kids

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTR7sWLfC/

black men got the early trans struggle . django scene cut dick off . we can relate

good blood pressure

levels to the gay

race play

[meanwhileinstasiville]

Walking in a straight line; doing something a little different last night.

"KILL YOURSELF!!!" Yelled at me by the guy traditionally stationed on the bridge street corner opposite mazatlan. As he'd yelled not quite as loud many times before. But from across on palm street this time.

A beardy "backed up" by a VW and blocking my path so I can't help but notice next to the "hot yoga studio" An abrahamic cult guy, empire and "hitlers revenge" all in a tiny package.

And I'm from a really good underworld pedigree; so let's talk about how the kkk isn't something you want. It's ruthlessly efficient sure, at terrible things. "We're all friends here" is the law of the land where that exists. Meaning, "who killed my kid?!?" has only solace as an answer because "we're all friends here". Leading to "guess I'll have another one" as best available recompense. "Did you burn my house down for blocking your view?" Solace of a yes or no answer. "Guess I'll build another one" All you get. So successful in Oregon that black people were outlawed, Chinese people were outlawed from existing above ground when outside chinatowns. When it succeeds; we're all friends here. At the dunn ranch, they were actively street sweeping (killing the homeless vagrants "passing through") while actively maintaining a brothel. As so-called "pillars of the community"

It's before Ashland became this sort of "white supremacist" utopia of legend, starting in the sixties and seventies. And that's why I'm bringing it up.

"And he likes it when…he encounters you specifically where I tell you to show up along his walk route…or else" seems kkk vintage anonymity but with a nazi touch. And that was last night.

"Someone's literal job is to yell 'kill yourself' at you specifically?" Yeah. And you should know today, that I got another murder derived setup around the college youth program building; there's a van clearly with someone living in it, a cat on a long leash stretching a tripwire functionally across the sidewalk. And that's what you see. And there's the dog off leash "hiding" in the space between the back of the building and the retaining wall for the rise ending there; thereby conoting you get "jumped" and pushed into a van. And had I done the "smart" thing and walked literally out in the road (smart in context) to get around that, I'm sure there would've been a cooper. Because this is everyday. So when the Ashland seedy community "changed" from anonymous and "all friends here" to "only certain people matter" on race/phenotype sliding scale, the same consolidated power problems start to crop up.

Today it's what I would call "rich person cowardice" which goes with the exalting a race thing. When it was the kkk, their success destroyed them with no blacks or Chinese or minorites or even white women having rights. So they had no standard to hold themselves to because "we're all friends here". But then there's David Sisson (apothecary, nascent drug dealer of ladanum etc) shot in his yard and white, and his French wife (house burned and run out of town, high class prostitute from European sophistication) and white. And who's to blame? Well, the community who was all friends here decided on that and that was it. A murder "everyone" was in on. So everyone did it and at the same time, no one did.

Rich person cowardice is several yellow busses in a row blocking the way up harmony street at siskiyou. It's "elastic" arrival time, like it doesn't matter really when they arrive where they're going within a half hour/forty five minute window. And rvtd has put whole busses next to me to the instant. Based on color and ads on the side. Coopers are the same thing. You have to understand that you're going to have problems with each other when there's only a couple Y chromosomes and uniform genetic strata for everybody. How you decide "who eats, and who watches" with a well documented outcome.

A rich person cowardice example from before, the Marc Anthony hotel building looks as though it was designed with a clocktower in mind. Conoting the city of what empire as opposed the "one of eight Irishmen" and the first Irish bloodlines of Dunn's; incidentally the same as the Kennedys. Tallest building around is going to look like what? Ashland in an "ancient races" contest; they don't even place at circa 1000 years. As compared to twelve thousand for Ireland, who even knows for Switzerland, Greece etc.

"Here! Infinity dollars for a magnificent hotel" and completely out of profile for the region at the time*. Creating a modern curiosity where "all the luxury is in the lobby" said grandpa of sort of terrible accomodations given the import relative to town. And the streets were deserted last night because it was cold at sunset. And so each encounter was mandated by something because affluent communities have lots of people who don't work and kids who don't work; nobody would choose to wait out in the cold to run into me.

These aren't making arguments or even statements, these encounters; these are demonstrations of how the community works when you're not on any of the sides. Walking from Ashland downtown to the far reaches and in a straight line. All sorts of other stuff happened, and today after it, but then I'd have to talk about "standing armies" with nothing better to do, in bringing that up. Which and again the kkk existed as a sieve for unwanteds minority and otherwise, and they ran out in Oregon. Some practiced experts on hate. Stuck with each other conceivably forever.

So diadora inlaid swastika bricks around town and such, I'm starting to see the same thing happening with you guys. Except of course, being the opposite and natural enemy of the kkk, you guys are a super minority well known rather than anonymous. Which, all those "brown" people around here, they're really well acquainted with the viceroys. Like when twenty or thirty people matter for a whole continent. Which is "down to road a piece" for you guys.

[agentcable]

Chicago Justice Season 1 Ep. 7 "Double Helix"

Nagel and Dawson investigate the brutal murder of a pregnant woman. Her unborn baby was cut from her stomach. Stone and Valdez prosecute the person involved. The evidence points to the killer being related to a serial killer that Stone put away. Meanwhile, Nagel files a petition for joint custody of her daughter.

If you want to watch the series for yourself, stop reading! This post contains spoilers to the storyline.

Antonio Dawson and Laura Nagel, along with the CPD, are breaking into a storage facility. They are quickly called to a disturbing scene where they find a crib with a bloody bat and bloody footprints leading to a deep freezer, inside of which they find a dead woman.

The unit was rented by someone who did not provide a real name, and the address does not exist. The rent was paid for five years in advance.

The cause of death may have been blunt force trauma from a bat or from being sliced and diced. ME Joy Fletcher believes that the cuts were made with a box cutter, and the victim's body had been in the freezer for 4-5 days. Fletcher asked where the baby was. Antonio and Laura had no idea that she was even pregnant, and they believe that if the baby had died, the killer would have left it there. Laura and Antonio want to handle the case themselves instead of handing it over to CPD.

Anna Valdez updates Peter Stone on their findings. Laura believes the crime was committed by a woman who was careful enough to take everything from the victim's purse but missed the transit card.

The card was issued by Travel Trainers, a company that helps people with developmental challenges navigate the city. One of the employees says the card belongs to Julia Keys, an aide who started maternity leave last month. The company owner granted access to Julia's desk and belongings. Laura and Antonio share stories about their own experiences with childbirth, coincidentally on Julia's due date. The detectives located the yoga studio that Julia frequented twice a week. They discovered that Julia was well-liked by everyone in her maternity class. Upon meeting with the class, they learned that Julia had been experiencing problems with her ex-boyfriend, Ryan.

When questioned, Ryan claimed that he had not been in contact with Julia for seven months and was unaware of her whereabouts. He expressed concern and asked if she was in any trouble.

Anna brings the folder to Stone's office. Stone instructs her to give it to Antonio and Laura, despite Anna being told that Stone would want to see it. The DNA evidence was from David Zachariah, who was a serial killer and Stone's first high-profile case.

He was put away for life 8 years ago after a 10-year case involving the disappearance of young women. He took his wife out there, drugged and killed them, had sex with the corpses, and buried them. David admitted to killing Alice White, and Stone got rid of the death penalty in exchange for the locations of his other victims.

Stone believes that David could not have been in the storage locker, but the DNA found could belong to a first-degree relative. Stone instructs Antonio and Laura to investigate Ryan further while he visits David in prison.

During the visit, Stone questions David about his younger brother Randy. David jokes about how his case led to Stone's promotion and reminisces about their conversations. David reveals that he was told Randy is dead, but he is uncertain.

Antonio returns to Ryan's and accuses him of lying. He reveals that Ryan spoke to Julia for only two minutes on the night she died. Ryan's girlfriend admits to taking the call and meeting with Julia. Ryan is devastated to learn that Julia was pregnant and he had no idea.

They discover that Dawn, another pregnant woman, was with Julia when they last met. Laura and Antonio visit Dawn, who is holding a newborn baby. As Dawn prepares to put the baby down, they notice that the baby is lifeless.

Stone informs Mark Jefferies about the dead body. Jefferies orders Stone to end this craziness quickly. They believe they know what happened, but Stone wants to know how David Zachariah fits into this. Stone argues that revealing this new evidence gives him a chance to overturn his conviction.

Ryan visits Stone and Anna and shares his four years with Julia. He had no idea she was pregnant. He says no one will give him any answers. He wants to bury Julia and the baby. Stones shares that the baby was a little girl. When Ryan leaves, Anna reveals that Dawn is David Zachariah's daughter and she is pleading not guilty by reason of insanity.

During his time at the prison, Dr. Daniel Charles has a meeting with Dawn Osborn. She shares a story about her own attack when she was 11 years old. Due to the fall and resulting damage, she was unable to have any children. At 13, she felt different from other girls who were expected to have children. She became aware of this when her mother forbade her from dating, but her father allowed her to sneak out. Upon returning home, she overheard her parents arguing, but her father remarked, "It's not like she can get pregnant!"

Before the trial begins, Camille Osborn, Dawn's mother, visits Stone. She asks if there was anything she could have done or noticed that might have caused Dawn's situation. She also reveals that David raped her and that she allowed her husband, Ben, to believe that Dawn was his daughter. Stone thanks her for sharing this information.

During the trial, Antonio describes how they discovered Dawn with the deceased child. Marshall Matthews is her defense attorney, brings a specialist in so they can argue the warrior gene. The defendant's lawyer is arguing that his client is insane due to the genetic inheritance from her father, a serial killer. The judge has permitted the lawyer to present evidence to support his claim.

During his testimony, David Zachariah described how he experienced an urge to kill women that would intensify until he saw the veins in their forehead as he chocked them. He stated that this urge would then subside. Stone questions why killing a man wouldn't satisfy his urge, as he hasn't killed since arriving in prison. He asks David how he controls this uncontrollable urge and whether he believes that because his father killed cows, he was destined to murder women. David throws it in Stone's face that he is standing in his own father's shoes right now.

Stone and Laura are at Molly's. She shares that her father was a drunk and a tough man. However, when he saw her, he would cry and tell her not to look at him. Laura wonders if there could be something to the genetics theory. She pushes her drink away, but Stone assures her that it's not true.

The next day, Dawn is questioned by her attorney. She talks about a pulsing sensation in her head and how the only way to make it stop was to kill her. She reveals that the baseball bat was in the locker, and she used it to hit her in the head. However, the pulsing and storm did not go away. She believed that killing the baby would make it stop. She admits to cutting the baby out of her and killing it. Stone asks if this was her first time killing someone, to which she responds with a "no". During the court session, she admitted to killing Alice White at the age of 26. Her father confessed to the murder to protect her. The judge called for a recess until the following day.

Anna and Stone met with Jefferies, who suggested that the confession may not be false. He argued that genetics has been a part of science for a long time. Stone was surprised that Jefferies believed that Dawn was genetically predisposed to murder. Anna responded by saying that Dawn did not know David before the trial. Jefferies challenged her to prove it.

Antonio and Laura search through Dawn's home. Antonio reassures Laura that her child is not destined to be a pill popper. He finds a book called Pregnancy Procedures and asks her to open it to the chapter on Cesarean sections. Dawn had bought it and studied it to perform one on Julia. Antonio suspects that something went wrong.

Dawn confesses to killing the baby, but Stone reveals that the baby had cracked ribs. She admits to having an uncontrollable urge. Stone claims that she was performing CPR to save the baby, not trying to kill her. Dawn recounts a story about a woman with four malnourished children, questioning how someone homeless could have four children while she herself cannot have one.

The jury returns to the courtroom and finds Dawn Osborn guilty of first-degree murder for killing Julia and the baby girl.

Stone received legal papers, as expected. David Zachariah intends to challenge his conviction based on new evidence. Anna suggests he may even be acquitted, and Stone granted him immunity regarding the other nine women.

David presents himself at court, and as he sits down, Stone brings up the terms of his immunity deal. The deal requires David to tell the whole truth to receive immunity. However, since he did not kill Alice White, he lied. This dishonesty voids the plea. The prosecution has six hours of recordings from David revealing the details of the nine murders known only to the killer. He brings the file to the judge, stating that it will be helpful in Indiana. The judge asks why Indiana? Stone informs him that four of the victims were found there and that Indiana has the death penalty. The judge orders Mr. Zachariah to remain incarcerated pending extradition to Indiana.

Laura visits the social worker who is critical of her. The social worker is worried that Laura has too many work emergencies and is only concerned about the welfare of her child and what is best for her. She tells Laura that she cannot recommend shared custody due to the instabilities in her life. Laura takes a few deep breaths outside the building before walking down the street.

[spfqueen]

Vipassana

Vipassana means "seeing things as they really are" and is a meditation technique originating from India. It is the process of self-cleansing through self-observation. Impulsively once again, I decided to spend 10 days at a retreat in Asia learning this ancient meditation technique white cut off from all electronic devices and communication with the outside world.

I am a woman of science, I like evidence based, quantitative measurement and proof of theory and statistics. What the heck was I doing at a Buddhist meditation retreat right after my research fellowship?

I've always been drawn to Eastern philosophy. After earning my science degree I traveled to Bali to get a yoga instructor certification. That's where I first heard about Vipassana. I couldn't understand why anyone would willingly sign up for something so torturing. Two years later my own calling came: I felt completely disconnected from my body and disoriented from my goals. I went on the website and started looking for destinations, I filled out the declaration of interest not believing I would go. Vipassana centers exist all over the world, as well as in Greece. The only open place I found within 10 days was in Singapore. I was starting rural in two months so it had to be done asap.

My previous experience with meditation? Excruciating. I couldn't sit still for more than 10 minutes, my so-called monkey mind jumped around endlessly leaving me with negative feelings of failure and dissatisfaction. But wasn't that the goal? To go and learn how to do it.

I decided not to discuss this decision with my acquaintances, as I didn't want their opinion to influence me. I knew exactly how they were going to respond.

Three days before I left I told my brother that I was scared. He replied "It is that because you are scared you have to do it".

Two days before I flew I announced to my mother that I was going to Singapore for 10 days without a cell phone for a meditation retreat. The mother obviously freaked out. "Who organises this, what's the point, why don't you go find a place at the beach to chill instead of flying to Asia to meet hippies".

I packed my suitcase and took a taxi to the airport for a 20h trip. I commuted from the airport directly to the place appointed for pick up to the course location. I was there two hours early. "What am I doing? I have a family that loves me. Why did I have to go halfway around the world to calm my head - I could have chosen to go to a shopping spree instead. This meeting spot could easily be a white slavery organisation, I'd be kidnapped and no one would know where I was."

Slowly, Singaporeans and Indians began to appear with suitcases in hand and a look on their faces saying "I don't know what I'm doing - help me". I must have been in the right place because I looked like that too. They counted us, read our names and we boarded the bus. Half an hour later we had arrived at the camp and received our instructions and schedule for the next 10 days.

Program

04:00 wake up to the sound of the gong 04:30 - 06:30 meditation in our private room or in the hall 06:30 - 08:00 breakfast 08:00 - 09:00 group meditation in the hall 11:00 - 13:00 lunch (this was the last meal of the day) and rest 13:00 - 14:30 meditation in our private area or in the hall 14:30 - 15:30 group meditation in the hall 15:30 - 17:00 meditation in our private room or in the hall 17:00 - 18:00 afternoon tea break 18:00 - 19:00 group meditation in the hall 19:00 - 20:15 video course screening 20:15 - 21:00 group meditation in the room 20:00 lights off

Rules The participants must: Refrain from killing any living creature (including: for eating anything of animal origin. not even the mosquito that's buzzing around you) Refrain from stealing. Refrain from any sexual activity. Refrain from lying. Abstain from any kind of toxic substances. To follow polite silence - ALL conversations (and eye contact) are forbidden. There is segregation of men and women in the area. Physical exercise, yoga is prohibited. No reading, music, writing, use of cell phone and camera is prohibited. Shoulders and knees should be covered at all times, with loose and modest clothing.

Time to explore where I would sleep. Our room had the same size as my room in Athens with the small detail that it was destined for 6 women in bunk beds. How was I supposed to share a room with 5 other Asian girls without talking? The room looked like it hadn't been cleaned for a long time, the WC was two in one, bathroom and toilet. How was I, a sworn enemy of any camping activities going to last 10 days in that hell? I'd heard that many people can't complete the course and give up, but a more stubborn person than me is hard to find. Furthermore, I was a bit far from home (20 hour trip). The outdoor space was surrounded by a fence, hence limited walking area. On the other side of the fence I saw beautiful trees I have only seen in Asian movies. It was beautiful.

Days 1 - 3

The first three days were dedicated to the technique of observing the breath, called anapana. I got 5 pillows to make a little throne and be as comfortable as possible. For the first 2 days western life occupied my mind. I was thinking of captions for my fantastic instagram posts for clicks I'd never taken. I walked around our fenced area to count how many minutes I completed it in (it was 4), so I could repeat it as many times as it takes to walk 30 minutes a day. For self entertainment purposes, I walked barefoot on the grass to soak in the daily midday rain. Remember the rules. Besides, it was so hot that I had to go into every meditation hour in a wet shirt to endure.

I generally don't dream, but after the first day of meditation every time I went to sleep (naps twice during the day and sleep at night) I had very vivid dreams that I remembered clearly afterwards. I started to get used to myself without make up and actually like my face (note that at the time my friends never saw me without winged eyeliner and 10 days make up free was a personal record).

Day 4

On the fourth day I found out that so far we haven't been practicing vipassana meditation. That day we had to pick a sitting position and stay there for two hours without any movement. For two hours you had to harness your mind telling you to stretch your leg, scratch your shoulder, open your eyes. And just when you think you're not going to make it, you do. My leg went completely numb and I had to give it sometime before I was able to walk again.

Every day that went by, I got better at that technique. I had become more relaxed, and more "present". I noticed the trees, each leaf and trunk, the sunrise and sunset, the colors and position of the sun. I felt happier, so much so that I wondered if they were adding any substances in our food.

Slowly, I began to understand the meaning behind each rule. We couldn't eat heavily because it was hard to stay alert for meditation on a full stomach. We couldn't talk because, as they say, "comparison is the thief of joy." Each student was at a different stage in their path and each path is different. Also writing, cell phones and talking were ways we could avoid introspection. Exercise, even light yoga would be distraction as well.

Days 6 - 9

On the 6th day, the vipassana technique began. From then on, three times a day for one hour we had to stay still. Normally you should not label your meditation as good or bad. It is simply what it is. However, I was extremely proud of my meditation session on the 7th day. An hour of sitting went by like 5 minutes. It seemed unbelievable to me. After the session, I went outside, sat on the grass and observed the nature around me. Never in my life, had I ever felt such explosion of joy inside of me before. The feelings were unprecedented. I couldn't remember myself being so happy. I started wondering when was the last time I was happy. The last times I had felt happy were when I had published in one of the best dermatology journals, when I had presented at that American World Congress, when I went on a date with Mr X, Y, Z. It was all external ego boosters. And there, I found myself having created this huge feeling - all an inside job, with no gym endorphins, no shopping, no contact with people around me. I was crying.

I was thinking about The Beatles, one of my favorite bands, who had gone to meditate in India. I was singing "Let it be" in my head and, for the first time, with Goenka's vipassana teaching, the song really made sense.

Day 10

We were finally allowed to talk to each other. I so was eager to ask about their experiences, what had prompted them to come. I learned that Vipassana is quite popular in Asian countries. I was surprised to find out that many came for no particular reason, just for the experience. Some said they were looking for answers, others said they were depressed and wanted to heal. All of them felt grateful that they came. I felt a constant smile on my face which I could also see on everyone around me.

I don't know what exactly it was that prompted me to try Vipassana. But it was the best trip of my life.

Was it easy? Not at all. Should you go for it? No doubt. If I had to put into one single phrase what how felt, it would be "I was put back into my body". I can't help but wonder if I would have handled things differently if I had done vipassana earlier in my life. I made a promise to myself that I would continue meditating and would repeat the course that made me grateful to be me.

[returntosaturn271995]

Friday, June 16th: 10/10

“and I think we make gods who look like us for a reason. I think, in spite of it all, we trust we can be believed in.”

Excerpt From You Better Be Lightning Andrea Gibson

I’ve been known for the occasional 3, 5, and 7 day streak, but usually the weekend has a habit of snatching good routines and well-intentioned alarms right out of my nail bitten hands. 

Today was the first time in a long time I’ve successfully hit 10 days straight of hitting my goals. So I’m celebrating that, because it wasn’t easy. There was rejection, reality checks, and pillows Lumos peed on. But every day I also gave myself the following. 

Yoga: 20 minuets today- achey knees, and I’m always wobbly on my left side. But I signed in and moved my skeleton around in a way that would make Jenny Slate laugh. 

Walking to the beach: It’s finally fucking sunny out. I threw on a white sports bra and some leggings I cut in to spandex shorts and lapped up the rays like puppy at his water dish. Mmmmm. Speaking of skeletons: Today I saw a bright turquoise vintage car, a vintage man at the wheel, and a full skeleton chilling next to him. It was a blink and miss it moment. 

Reading: Finished Andra Gibson’s “You better be Lightning”. Totally cried my eyes out at story she told about being so excited to wear new shoes to basketball try-outs only to have the other kids make fun of them and then she had to pretend she didn’t like them and her better shoes were coming in the mail. This women also writes about chronic illness and death, but something about childhood enthusiasm and pride being mutilated by embarrassment and shame cracks how my whole chest open. When I was at the DMV today I made a point to tell the little girl I was sitting next to that I liked her sparkly pink crocs. She smiled, said thank you, and hide behind her knees. 

Meditation: Staying mindful, feeling your breath in your chest as though your own body is being breathed in by the universe. I put my headphones on at the DMV and just tried to be present. To see humanity in all of its weirdness: exhausting and beautiful. 

Political Awareness: Oof. We’re in a post-Dobbs world and republican monsters are coming for the queer kids during pride month. It’s not enough to know though. I want to do something, how I’m not sure yet. Back burner. 

Writing: Here I am. Stuck in the middle with you. Writing down jokes I think are funny, dreaming of screenplays. Might be time to tell a story where I’m not both the narrator and main character. 

Cooking: Today I ended up making the Chicken Stir Fry. Spilled rice all over the kitchen listening to MFM recap Terri Broome murdering an Italian asshole (somewhat justified) and Bernie Lito murdering an elderly widow so he could live a lavish lifestyle as a closeted gay man (alllllso somewhat justified but I’m a sick fuck so don’t listen to me). 

Cleaning: Bleached the life out of my walls and have been running that dishwasher to my hearts content. Fresh bed linens, folded laundry. 

Dressing well: Killing it. Today’s plan: 90′s pearl choker, white eyelet crop top, flared jeans, vans. Lately been living in the blue striped terry-cloth set. 

Reduce drinking: Not a drop, sugar tits. And in general never alone. 

Sunscreen/Skincare: Aging like the wine I’m not drinking

Running: At least 3-5 blocks of each walk. Building up to 4-6. 

Therapy: Kicking my ass. Making progress. 

Music: My head is a radio station. 

[nityarawal]

11/7/22

Part 1:

Colors Of The Rainbow

Morning Songs

"Am I Racist?"

"I Like All The Flavors 

Of The Rainbow!"

She Says!

"All The Colors Of

The Rainbow Like You,"

He Says Back

So Many Colors

Of The Rainbow 

So Many Beautiful 

People To Love

Explore

I Love You All

Vicariously

Children Of God

Some Love Your 

Bodies

Some Love Your Souls

Some See Your Inner

Light

And Are Curious

About The Flames

Of God

Who Are Those

Women We All

Want To Love

Why Have Wars

Over Them

And Hurt Them

Hostage

We All Love

#FreeBritney

Marilyn Monroes

They Open Our

Hearts

Feelings Flow

Marilyn Didn't 

Want To Do Nudes

But She Couldn't 

Pay Her Rent

Did #OldManTrumpleBerry

Ensue

Just Like

With Woody Guthrie

All The Others

Tulsi Gabbard

Jumped The Fence

She Went From 

Blue To Red

Elon Is Charging 

$8 For A Blue

Check By Your 

Name 

Can't Change

#Twitter

ID Or Be 

Qualified As An

Anonymous Mother

Anymore - Some 

People Hide-

Not Bots- But

Afraid For Their

Lives

Why Isn't Amber

Heard On #Twitter

Anymore

People Wonder Why

She Disappeared

Is She Hostage

Enslaved By 

Divorce Courts

New Prototype

Drugged For #AI

Like Reality Winner

#FreeBritney & I

Halydol Is Illegal

Makes You Walk

Like A Zombie

Can't Orgasm

Why Did "Osho's"

People Drug Sex

Cults Into Frozen

Anatomy

Why Are They

Grooming Minions

Still Monopolizing

Family Courts

Gigolos

Why Did Daniel

Smachtenberger

Have Me Drugged

With That Filthy

Stuff

Just A Child Prodigee

Only 16 Years Old

Groomed By His

Daddy

In The Riverside

Justice System- Just Like

Marilyn- Pimped

To Adults - On Heroin

With Porn - For The

Courts

Up To 400 Pounds

His Mom Turned

Him In To

Her Bored 

A Geek

From A Famous

Iceskater To A Realtor

For David Farley Kaplan's

Spiritual Center

#Osho #ShriShri #Charlatans

Smeared On The Streets

Ravi Shankar

Pretend

Mini-Me

Love Guru Marketed

By X As A

"W" Word 

He Says: Mom

Gave Him Lap

Dances

Bribed By Dad

On Heroin

Trafficked

When He Was Just A Tween

Daniel Learned Everything

About Health

By The Age Of 14

To Shed Psyche-Drug Obesity

A 2nd Layer

To Defend Thee

A Little Spy

Autistic

Oh My

For #Oshos Sex Sting

Still Alive And Well

Dr. GARDNER

Divorce Court Play

Books

Estranging Mommies

Kicking 'Em Out 

Of Empires

Beach Homes

With RO's

Restraining Orders

Alienating To

Breed More Militia

We Don't Want 

Oh…

Ohhh.

Ohhh

We Don't Want

To Propegate

Seeds Of

#PrinceOfPegging 

Old Heroin

Addicted Nazis

Daniel's Still Pimpin'

His Dad As A Tutor

To Groom Sex Stings

In Sandiego

His Mom Is His

PR Gal 

And His Brother

Business Manager

Selling Drugs

To Business Men

Bought Body Mind College

For Groomers

Daniel Wanted My

X-Husband

Called Him His BFF- Best Friends Forever

Apprenticed Physics

Under Him 

Until Banned 

From M.U.M.

Lured Him Into

His Coven

Swinging With Billionaires

And Militia

Of The Courts

Oathkeeping

Daniel's Pseudo Bride

Roxanne

Pole Dancer

Says She Loves

To Serve Our Military

Camp Pendleton 

She Loves Those Boys

Courts Defense Team

And Dances For

Attys In Oceanside

Pandering

To Marine Officers

Pledging

Her Love With

Tattoos 

On Ring Fingers

Roxanne Imagines Herself

Some Modern Day

Geisha

Confusing Yoginis

She Closed 

The Yoga Room

Lolita Of Encinitas 

Took Down SRF's

Oldest Yoga Studio

Replaced With

Yoga Tropics

Sweat

Pole Dancing Grooming

Stealing

Our Kids

Yogananda's

Maharishi's

Ballerinas'

God's

Daughters'

Writers'

Body Mind College

Taught Happy Endings

Trafficking Masseusses'

Kamala Devi 

Mass For Weddings

Finalised

"Married And Dating"

Showtime Show

Burning Man

To See All The

Singers

Process Poly Nightmares

Attacking Our Families

With Adult

"Minor Attracted Persons,"

Agenda

Will Give Anyone

"Burnt Hair,"

Psychology

Psychology for Dummies

Dr. Adam Cash

Is Making It Clear

"All The Colors Of The

Rainbow!" 

He Said He Enjoyed

To Lick

He Liked Black,

White, Red

Ethnic Asian

Probably Never Had

Persian- Because

#IranianWomenLivesMatter 

Don't Sleep Around

Don't Need Mullahs 

Raping

Killing Our Women

And Children 

Don't Need #PrinceOfPegging 

Colonizing 

Don't Need Putin

Oppressing America

Through Nazi Oathkeepers

Of Courts

If You're A Different

Kind Of Lawyer

A Unique Type Of DA

Not The Ones

To Greenwash #BLM

#BlackLivesMatter

Sincerely

Standing By Obamas'

Kamala

And #HalfPersianLivesMatter 

Aborigines

On Judgement

Day

What Happened

To Church And

State

Pope Francis

What Happened

To Faith

Pontifex

What Happened

To Ethics In

Law

Pappa

Why Are Slumlorders

Stealing Our Homes

What's Changed In

Native California

Raped Indigenous

Leaders When We

Monopolized This 

Country

Been Celebrating Indepence

UK

Europeans

Invaded America

Made It Beautiful

With All The Colors

Of The Rainbow

Some Want To Love

Us - Some Claim

To Have Licked

Every Breed

Of Women

Some Will Love

Until They Hate Us

Some War

Because We 

Don't Want To

Propagate "Killing,"

Soldiers No More

Oh Great

Helen Of Troy

Point Of School

Is To Educate

The Sheep

Don't Deploy Your

Military On Me

#FreeBritney And I

Have Suffered

Psychosis AI

Court

Bribed Attorneys

Don't Know 

How To Make

An Honest Dollar

Had Enough

Continuances

In Family Court

And War Abroad

We Saw So Many 

Beauties

Being Tortured

Like Anna Nicole

Smith's

Daughter

#FreeBritney Knows Her

Voice Matters

#MeToo 

She Had To Sober Up

Courts Drugged Her

And Enslaved 

To Video The Goods

It's Not OK

They Don't Deserve

Her-

Two Million Dollars A Minute

#MothersDefense

Needs Reperations

Billions And Billions 

Marines Couldn't 

Get A Marilyn

Honestly

She Sang For Them

She Gave Everything

She Married

Officer Daughtery 

She Blessed The 

Country

And President 

Democracy

JFK Was Murdered 

Who Did It

Will We Ever Know

Some Say

Jacki-O

Held The Gun

God No

Was He Shot By

A Child-Man 

Groomed

By The Courts

To Weaponise Women

Like John Lennon's Racist

Murderer

Hating On Yoko-Ono

Domestic In-House Terrorism 

Not So Different

From Nacy Pellosi's

Attacker

On Her Elder Gay

Husband

How Many Kennedys'

Will Disappear

Drowned

Flight Crashes

Princess Dianas'

Automobiles

Meghan Threatened

How Many

Politicians Kids

Will Drown

Terrorized Like

Ed Malloy's Son

Fairfield, Iowa

Mayor's Child 

At College

In California

From Iowa

M.I.U.

M.I.U.

M.U.M

Have You Heard?

MUM Needs

Reperations 

How Many Children 

Will Run Naked

Like Hunter Biden

Begging For Respite

From In-House

Domestic Terrorism

Pimped Out On Nazi

Drugs 

Crystal Meth

Called A Nationalist

Patriot

Confused

By Militia

Bullied And Abused

Mummy Neilia Killed

Baby Sister

Sacrificed

In Front Of Him

Only A Toddler

For A Judge Neighbor 

Who We Still

Wonder

Was He A Pedophile

Who Didn't Let

President Biden

Press Charges On Drunk Driver

Or Give Him

A DUI

When You Gonna

Stop The War On

#StarterWives

Globally Sir

Mr. President

Whose Gonna

Sing To You

I Think Lana Del Rey

Covered Marilyn's 

Birthday Song For

You

Got A Kamala

Mamala Musical

Tulsi Peace Orders

Seeds Too

Marianne

Williamson

Miracles For All

The Lands

Of Jesus

Ask Any Mom

With Her Heart

Intact

Ask Marilyn Monroe's

Ghost

Princess Diana

Naya Rivera

Anne Heche

Whitney Houston

Ivana

All The Starter Wives

Deborah Messing

Drowned Burned 

Alive- Killed 

[lovemesomeodinssleep]

FBoy Island's Cringey Use of Yoga is a Turn Off

I love reality shows as much as the next person. Fboy Island is a parody of the popular show "the Bachelorette". I do not love how FBoy Island misrepresented Yoga as a practice.

I love my daily dose of reality TV drama. FBoy Island is among those gripping social experiment kinds of shows. The hot bods and the everlasting tea this show oozes keep people like me watching. Something I can’t get behind is the cringe-y use of yoga in this show. I understand the visual appeal of the kama sutra but taking a sexual knowledge base and meshing it with yoga is insanely weird. In…

[crackedoutwalnut]

uhh could I request a wanda x reader doing something really reckless (like stealing the car for a 3 am drive) and Carol and Nat (who are like their mother figures - and also are in a relationship) scolding them for it!!

ps: I don't know if scolding is even a word but I guess you know what I mean hahahah

a/n: I am absolutely in love with this prompt and I had a lot of fun writing it :) hope you enjoy!

Warnings: none just some cursing and some underage drinking.

Word Count: 2,680

--

It was around 3:30 in the morning when you felt someone nudge your shoulder. Groaning, you pulled your blanket further over your head.

"Leave me alone," you grumbled under your breath.

It was only when a strand of red magic surrounded the edge of the blanket and jerked it off your body, did you awaken. You gasped at the sudden assault of cold air and shot up. Wanda stood over you in a Black Sabbath hoodie and ripped jeans with a far too pleased smirk on her face.

"What the hell, Wanda?" You hissed, rubbing your bleary eyes.

"Put some clothes on; I want to show you something."

"The sun isn't rising for another 2 hours, Wan. I want to go back to bed," you complained, grasping for the blanket once more.

Wanda pulled the blanket fully off your shared bed and looked at you pleadingly, "Come on, please? I promise it will be worth it," her eyes were wide as she looked at you hopefully. At this time of night- or morning, you supposed - her accent was thicker than it would be during the day. You cursed your weak resolve and slunk out of bed.

"Fine, but I'm stealing one of your hoodies," you grumbled.

She chuckled, "You are already hoarding at least half of them," she pointed out as you stepped out of your pajama pants. You rolled your eyes playfully and pulled on black yoga pants and an Iron Maiden sweatshirt you had been keeping on your side of the closet for at least a month now. Wanda gasped and slapped your arm lightly, "I have been looking for that everywhere, Y/n. I thought I lost it!"

"Your hoodies are comfier," you reasoned with a shrug. "Anyways, how are we supposed to get past mother hen one and two?" You gestured towards the direction of Natasha and Carol's room.

Wanda pondered this for a moment, "Just be fast and quiet, you go out and wait in the car, and I will grab the drinks."

You raised an eyebrow, "Natasha's a world-class assassin, and Carol wakes up whenever Nat does; this won't work. Also, we're going to drink at 3 in the morning?"

Wanda huffed, "It will be fine. You worry too much, Y/n. Plus, when have we ever drank irresponsibly?"

Narrowing your eyes, you stuffed your hands in your pockets, "Do you really want me to answer that."

Wanda pushed you towards the door, "Go outside and wait in the car." You snickered and carefully opened the bedroom door, wincing when the hinges squealed slightly. It wasn't a matter of not being caught as much as it was a matter of being long gone before Natasha and Carol decided to go after them. Regardless of how sneaky they thought they were being, Natasha- if not both her and Carol - was bound to hear them. Ever so carefully, you wedged the front door open and slipped through it.

You had moved in with Carol, Nat, and Wanda a year into your relationship with her. Having graduated college with a nearly nonexistent relationship with your parents, you needed a place to live. Your girlfriend and the women who practically made sure you didn't starve throughout college seemed like the most reasonable choice. You had met Wanda on campus, and it had taken three weeks of being her friend until you realized she was an Avenger. Shortly after that, Wanda introduced you to the rest of her team. At first, your only interaction with the married couple was them giving you the "shovel talk" when Wanda first introduced you as her girlfriend. However, after working with them as a hacker for SHIELD, they quickly took you under their wing as well.

Smiling slightly at the memory, you opened the passenger door to Natasha's black Corvette Stingray. It took all of three minutes for Wanda to come running out the door, a bottle of apple cinnamon whiskey in hand. She threw the door open and shoved the bottle into your hand before pushing the key into the ignition and gunning it down the street. Your eyes bugged as your fumbled to get your seatbelt fastened. You clutched at your chest as the two of you went 45 in a neighborhood.

"Wanda, what the fuck!" you yelped, gripping the neck of the whiskey bottle tightly.

"I'm sorry, I heard their door open, and I panicked!" She cried, grasping blindly for her seatbelt. The two of you slowed down slightly as you gained distance from the house.

"They're totally going to notice the whiskey's gone, Wan. We're both 19; we can't legally drink yet!"

"Relax, Y/n they won't notice one drink is missing out of a whole cabinet filled with alcohol," Wanda reasoned, turning onto a gravel road.

You raised an eyebrow at your girlfriend, "How many times do I have to point out that Nat is the world's top assassin and Carol was trained by both the US military and the Kree?"

"I promise it will be worth it," Wanda insisted, grabbing your hand from across the middle console. You sighed and leaned down to kiss the top of her hand.

"You're lucky I love you."

Wanda grinned and shot a wink at you, "I know." With that, she pulled off the dirt road and into the middle of a grassy clearing. You unbuckled your seatbelt and reached down to grab the whiskey, which had rolled under the seat during your escape out of the neighborhood. Wanda stepped out of the car and went around the back to grab a large black and red checkered blanket. You followed her as she smoothed out the blanket atop the grass and pointed up at the sky. A small gasp escaped your lips as you saw streaks of light blaze across the sky.

"I didn't know there was going to be a meteor shower tonight," you whispered, eyes never leaving the sky. Wanda grinned and unscrewed the bottle. She took a hearty drink from it and passed it over to you.

"I was hoping to surprise you," she explained, laying down on the blanket.

You followed suit and took a large drink of your own. "Why did we need alcohol for this, exactly?"

The corner of Wanda's lips quirked upward as she turned her head to look at you. "Make it a bit more...colorful, I suppose. I considered whether edibles would be better, but Nat and Carol would definitely skin us alive when they found out about that."

You giggled; the apple cinnamon whiskey had settled in your stomach, warming your body against the early morning breeze. Your head felt fuzzier as you leaned over to place a kiss on Wanda's cheek. "This is perfect, Wan. Thank you." Wanda placed a cinnamon-flavored kiss on the corner of your mouth. "How much do you want to bet Wanda and Carol are waiting by the door for us right now?"

Your girlfriend let out a drunken laugh and set the now half-empty bottle aside. "10 dollars that they left the house to find us."

"You're on." The two of you dissolved into hysterical giggles that lasted so long your stomach started to cramp. The blazes of white-hot light lit up the sky as your vision turned blissfully hazy. Clumsily, you crawled towards Wanda and placed your head atop her stomach. "Mmm, you're warm," you hummed, a goofy smile cracking through your lips. The witch placed her hands against the side of your head and started stroking them through the locks of your hair.

Just as your eyes started to slip shut at the attention, your felt her hands halt. "Y/n?" You let out a quiet 'mhm' in response. "How're we gonna get home?" Her voice was slurred and thick with her Sokovian accent.

Your eyes snapped open, and you shot up. "Shit, we can walk, maybe?" Wanda gave you a blank look in response as she gestured to the expanse of nothingness around you. You sighed, "We have to call Carol and Nat."

Wanda groaned and covered her face with her hands. Her chipped black nails scrubbed at her eyes and cheeks, leaving red lines all over her face. "Do we have to?"

"Well, we can't drive Wanda, and by the time we're sober enough, it'll be nearly 7:30!"

"They're going to kill us," she complained, burying her face in her hoodie. "Just get it over with."

You fished your phone from your pant pocket and hesitantly pressed Natasha's contact. The phone barely got through with its first ring before the older woman picked up.

"Where the hell did you two go?" her raspy voice was nearly brimming with anger. You almost dropped your phone at the venom lacing her words.

" 'M sorry, 'Tasha," you winced at the heavy slur in your words before continuing. "We thought it'd be fun."

You heard someone grab the phone, "Are you two drunk?" Carol demanded.

"No..." you trailed off pathetically. Wanda glared at you and lightly kicked your foot.

"Y/n try to say Natasha's full name, right now," you straightened slightly at Carol's military voice.

"N'tasha 'Manoff," your tongue felt too big for your mouth as you attempted to form the words. "...Okay, maybe a little bit."

"Where are you? We're coming to get you," Nat insisted. You heard footsteps from the other end of the line and someone pulling the hallway closet open.

"Wan, where are we?" you asked, glancing around the fields of overgrown grass and wheat.

Wanda winced and bit the tip of her finger, "Uhhh.."

"You don't know?" Natasha and Carol shouted. Wanda pursed her lips and looked down at her lap.

"I didn't have a specific route planned out beforehand," she admitted.

"Turn the location tracker in your phone settings on," Natasha ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," you both grumbled in unison, feeling akin to a scolded child.

"When we get there, you two better hope you have a better excuse than the ones we heard over the phone," Carol warned.

"You took my Corvette?" Natasha complained.

"It was either that or Carol's truck, and Wanda isn't used to driving stick yet," you insisted. "Her car's still in the shop from last month." A speeding car had rear-ended Wanda's car on the highway.

We will talk about this when we get there, do not touch the Corvette any more than you already have," with that, Natasha hung up.

"Well, apple cinnamon whiskey isn't a terrible last meal," you reasoned as Wanda folded the blanket and set it in the backseat.

"Y/n, we haven't eaten since dinner time. Whiskey is hardly a meal," Wanda grumbled, shutting the door.

"Babe, I'm trying to be optimistic."

"Captain Marvel and Black Widow are on their way to kick our asses into the moon," Wanda replied, leaning back against the Corvette. You sighed and rested your head against her shoulder. "Sorry this night was a bust," she mumbled, eyes staring down at her boots dejectedly.

You smiled and leaned in to press your lips against hers. Wrapping an arm around her waist, you pulled away and rested your forehead against hers. "This is one of the most romantic things anyone has ever done for me, Wanda. Thank you." Wanda grinned sheepishly and buried her face in your shoulder.

A few dreadful minutes later, you saw the headlights of Carol's truck speed down the gravel road. The truck lurched to a stop as the two superheroes jumped out of the car.

"Are you two alright?" Natasha demanded, half-running to the two of you.

"We're fine, I can protect myself, and Y/n was with me the whole time," Wanda reasoned. "We went out to watch a meteor shower, not go clubbing.

"I can protect myself just fine," you whined.

Carol raised an eyebrow, "Your hands were built for hacking and reading, not punching." You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. Wanda offered you a sympathetic smile but did not say anything to counter the older woman's claim. Rude.

"Wanda, get in the Corvette, Y/n get your ass in the truck," Natasha ordered. She was wearing a black leather jacket over her red silk pajama set. Carol was in basketball shorts and a tank top with a brown leather bomber jacket pulled over it. You quickly shuffled over to the truck and slid in.

Your foot nervously tapped against the floor of the car as you watched Carol grab the nearly empty bottle of whiskey and made her way over to the truck. Shutting the door, she set the bottle of whiskey on the open seat between you two and turned the keys in the ignition. As the pickup truck rumbled to life, she turned to face you. "Kid, you two nearly downed that bottle in a single night. What were you thinking?" You burrowed further into Wanda's sweatshirt as if to protect from her stern gaze.

"You're really mad at us, huh?" you mumbled, fidgeting with your hands.

Carol sighed and followed behind Natasha down the road, "You scared the shit out of us, kid. We didn't know where you had gone, why you left, plus it's nearly pitch black out here."

"But, we're adults just like you and Nat," you insisted weakly.

"You're still teenagers; we're in our 30's. Millions of things could have gone wrong; some creep could have taken you before Wanda could get to you, you could have crashed had you chosen to drive home, your phones could have died, or you could have gotten lost."

You shrunk further into your sweater, "Sorry..."

Carol sighed and looked over at you as she turned into the neighborhood. "Listen, kid. We really care about you two a lot. Nat and I have to resist the urge to duct tape you to the kitchen chairs to keep you two from leaving for missions. We know you can take care of yourselves, but a heads up in the future would be nice, and also more reasonable hours for your plans."

You grinned sheepishly, "Yeah, that seems fair."

Carol smiled and pulled into the driveway. Natasha and Wanda were waiting on the doorstep when you two got out. The latter looked thoroughly chastised as she burrowed her mouth and nose into her hoodie. When the four of you got inside, Natasha sighed and checked the clock on her phone.

"Well, we might as well watch a movie or something since it's nearly sunrise." You and Wanda settled on the couch, with Natasha to your left and Carol to Wanda's right acting as bookends. The assassin wrapped an arm around your shoulder, allowing you to rest your head in the crook of her neck. You saw Wanda lay her head in Carol's lap as the older woman pulled up Netflix. Natasha was idly threading her fingers through your hair, causing your already drunk and lethargic mind to grow hazier. Your eyes started to slip shut as you felt yourself being guided to lay your head in Nat's lap. You jerked slightly, attempting to fight the drowsiness from taking hold. Forcing your eyes open, you tried to sit up. However, the battle for consciousness was quickly lost when Nat started using her nails to gently massage your scalp.

--

"Carol," the assassin whispered to her wife. The blonde stopped her search for a good movie as she glanced over at Natasha.

"What is-" her question was quickly cut off by her wife quietly shushing her. Nat gestured down to the younger women currently lying in each of their laps. Carol glanced down to find Wanda's face hidden against the sleeve of her hoodie as she let out soft snores.

"Well, guess the movie idea's a bust," she whispered.

Natasha nodded, "You grab Wan, and I'll get Y/n."

Carefully, the heroes scooped the younger women into their arms and carried them to your shared bedroom. Natasha gently set you onto the bed beside your girlfriend and pulled the blanket- which was lying on the floor for whatever reason - to cover the two of you. Ever so cautiously, the couple crept out of the room.

[mariacallous]

At their core, then, all far-right ideological beliefs share exclusionary, hierarchical, and dehumanizing ideals that prioritize and seek to preserve the superiority and dominance of some groups over others. Modern far-right groups will often use suggestive or coded language that implies exclusionary beliefs rather than espousing them directly. The rapidly growing Identitarian movement, for example, uses euphemisms like “European heritage” or “European descent” to talk about whiteness. Racist and white-supremacist ideas are not the only entry point to the far right. Far-right groups focus on other themes—like antiabortion extremists—can also become gateways to white-supremacist extremism, in part because of the considerable overlap among groups and online spaces. For example, incel (involuntary celibate) and men’s rights groups—often referred to in online spaces as the “manosphere”—espouse misogynistic belief that sometimes overlap with white supremacist and racist ideologies. In fall 2019, for example, the neo-Nazi Andrew Anglin referred to himself as the “self appointed spiritual successor to Elliot Rodger” in a caption under a photo of the female founder of the Institute for Research on Male Supremacism. Rodger is the name of a 2014 Isla Vista, California, shooter who murdered six people after becoming radicalized as an incel. He was initially labeled a “misfit” whose mental health and personality problems led him to lash out in anger at women for rejecting him and atmen who are more successful at dating. But after a 2018 Toronto Van attack inspired in part by Rodger killed 10 people, along with other incel-inspired mass violence such as a shooting in a Florida yoga studio, closer analysis of Rodger’s manifesto revealed that his misogynistic views were strongly laced with racist and white supremacist beliefs as well. The fact that Rodger has now been lauded by a neo-Nazi on his prominent far right website is just one more illustration of the overlaps among misogynistic incel movements and the far right. This also confirms the potential for groups in one part of the far-right spectrum—such as incels—to act as gateways for other parts of the spectrum.

Cynthia Miller-Idriss, Hate in the Homeland: The New Global Far Right

[cowboy-turtle]

hiiiiiiiii bestie ☺️

9 - marcus p

BONK! This is the fluff police, smacking this one for the heinous crime of how soft it is. Enjoy bestie!

February Fluff Prompt #9: “Shut up and kiss me.”

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!Reader

Word Count: 1195

Tags: first date nerves, miscommunication (?), Marcus Pike being a consent king

ct’s february fluff masterlist | main masterlist

“Well, this is me.”

You can’t hide the sprinkle of disappointment in your words, having ambled slower down the sidewalk when you’d turned the corner onto your street. You’re in front of your unassuming apartment building now, Marcus slowing his step to turn back to you.

“I, um,” he fights a bashful smile, “I had a great time.”

You return his shy grin. “Me too.”

And for a blind date, you really had. Your friend Dalia was playing matchmaker for your sad excuse of a love life, but after too many failed attempts at introducing you to men who either talked too much about cryptocurrency or spent the whole night checking out other women, this was her last Hail Mary throw, her yoga instructor’s older brother she’d met in class last week.

What she hadn’t warned you about, though, was how attractive he’d be. Warm, friendly eyes that scanned the room until he spotted the outfit she’d told him you’d be wearing. Leather jacket over a casual white shirt, welcoming hands that engulfed yours in a handshake when he introduced himself. A decent amount of scruff accentuating his jawline, with just enough patches in it to make him look endearing. Not a single guy you’d suffered through first dates with could hold a candle to him.

The night slipped away the second he pulled out your seat for you. You’d never met an easier conversationalist, asking you questions about your life and truly engaged in listening to your answers. You started off on easy subjects, talking about your favorite tv shows growing up, discussing the latest museums you’d both visited, playing a rousing game of fuck, marry, kill over different varieties of French fries (Marcus was content killing curly fries, the audacity).

When you tried to mention something off-hand that faltered the smile on your face, his fingers reached across the table to rub across your knuckles in a comforting gesture. By the time the dessert menu came around, those fingers found a home intertwined between yours. You were still holding hands when he offered to walk you home, the restaurant Dalia had chosen for you in your neighborhood.

But that made the walk much too short for your liking, already home before you wanted the night to end.

“We should…” Marcus’s eyes search yours hopefully. “We should do this again sometime.”

“Yeah,” your voice feels small with anticipation at the close way you’re facing one another. “I’d like that.”

His face almost seems to dip down imperceptibly, his breath so near you can feel it fanning across your heating cheeks. There’s only a sliver of distance between your lips, and if you just tilted your chin just so…

A hand comes down on your shoulder, two quick pats. “Well, have a good night.”

Marcus steps away then, leaving you dumbfounded and probably looking like a fish with your pursed lips. “Oh,” is all you can say for a second before your brain can formulate the sudden shift. He has the decency to at least look sheepish, running his hand through the back of his hair.

“Um, it was great to meet you, Marcus,” you fumble at the front gate into your building. “Have a good night.”

Embarrassment licks at your heels, rushing you up the stairs and into the safety of your apartment. Had you read the entire night wrong? After a few moments processing what just happened, you turn on the shower to help clear your head, texting a quick update to Dalia to thank her for trying but it looks like you’ve struck out again.

The shower does help a bit, scrubbing off the night until you have a towel wrapped around your head and settled into your comfiest bathrobe. You’re snuggled on the couch, glass of wine in hand and an entire library of trashy reality television to get lost in when the front door buzzer goes off in your entryway. A quick glance at the time unsettles you over this late night caller.

“Who is it?” you ask into the tiny two-way speaker.

“Hey, um,” Marcus’s voice answers back, “could you…could you come downstairs?”

You don’t realize you’re still in your bathrobe until Marcus turns at the door opening, taking in the faded pink terry cloth you pull tighter across your body.

“Sorry, did I—”

“No,” you interrupt. “No, you’re fine. Is something wrong?”

“Um, well,” he lets out a nervous chuckle, “kind of, but not really…”

You stare at him. “Marcus—”

“Can I kiss you?”

That catches you off guard. “What?”

He steps forward, words beginning to rush out in explanation like he’s offended you. “It’s just, I feel like I fucked up, and I wanted to kiss you all night and told myself it’s too soon to do that. But then on my walk home I knew I was going to regret it if I didn’t but…”

His words start to race out even faster, and you’re amazed at his breath control. “God, Dalia didn’t tell me how beautiful you are. And funny and smart and kind and…and, and…and that scared me.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “That scares you?”

“Because,” he sucks in a breath, eyes pleading with you.

“Because, I like you. I mean,” he looks away, shy. “I really like you. And I don’t know if that’s too scary to say already because fuck, it’s scary to feel.”

Your heart melts in relief. “Marcus—”

“And the last thing I want to do—”

“Marcus—”

“—is feel like I’m rushing you—”

“Marcus, I—”

“—so if I just blew my chance—”

“Marcus, stop!” You step closer to him, hand on his chest to halt any more concerns. “Of course I like you too.”

His face relaxes. “You do?”

“Yes I do,” you smile, “now just shut up and kiss me.”

The breath he’d reserved for the rest of his explanation rushes out. “Really?”

You tilt your chin up towards him in a coaxed offering. “Please.”

His cautious hand finds its place on your cheek, closing the rest of the distance as your eyes flutter shut. When your lips brush against each other, you both almost sigh into the kiss. It’s everything you’d been imagining all night, as tender and welcoming as he is. You break away for a short breath before he’s already pressing forward again, like he finds no excuse to ever stop kissing you save for oxygen.

But then a cough interrupts over your shoulder. You turn to see a neighbor glaring at you blocking the main entrance, brown bags of groceries balanced in their hands.

“Sorry, sorry,” Marcus stumbles out as he guides you out of the way. The neighbor struggles to readjust the bags in their arms before walking past you. Marcus offers a hand to them. “Um, do you need help with that?”

They only shoot him a look before walking up the stairs. Marcus looks so bashfully embarrassed you can’t help but laugh. The sound brings a smile back onto his face, turning to you once more.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asks.

Your hand finds his cheek this time, brushing the sparse hairs you’d been dying to feel all night.

“Always.”

--

taglist: @1800-fight-me @iamskyereads @microsoftcraint @thisgirl-knm @dobbyjen @arahxdjarin @triggerhappyflygirl @athalien @phandoz @queen0fchaos @c4psicle @sunnshineeexoxo @mrsudontknowme @rosethornxs @wyofabdoms @mandosmistress @thirddeadlysin @kissasith @cmc1014 @morenhoe @mssbridgerton

[wannabe-fic-writer]

WandaNat x Reader : Inhale pt. 2

Summary: She never ceases to surprise you.

Warning: Smoking, Cursing, One Suggestive Joke

Word Count: 1,998

Part 1

* * * * * *

The white paint stares back at you as you lay on your bed. Your view of the ceiling is obscured by the red ball you toss up into the air. It gets slightly smaller as it moves away from you, then larger as it falls back down. 

Your hand catches it and throws it back up into the air, repeating the same process as the tv plays on monotonously from the corner of the room.

Boredom has been washed over you for the past few days. Your girlfriends went on a mission last week. You were able to pass the time during the first week, keeping yourself distracted by hanging around the team, training with Steve, going for a run every time your fingers twitched towards the cigarettes you had hidden in your closet. All of that was failing to work right now.

It seems, though, that you don’t have to suffer through it much longer. F.R.I.D.A.Y chimes up after hours of quiet with an alert that Natasha and Wanda were back and heading to the room. 

You instantly perk up, pushing yourself to a sitting position on the bed and glancing at the door frequently, ready for your girls to walk in. Except they don’t.

The gleeful, happy to be home, response you were expecting is replaced by their clearly upset demeanors. A frown sits on Wanda’s face like you’ve never seen and Natasha’s expression remains neutral. 

They don’t acknowledge you save for a glance in your direction. Both of them go into the closet and quickly change into more comfortable clothes. In an instant afterwards they’re leaving out. And you’re left beyond confused.

With the possible reasons for their behavior and clear attitudes in your head, you don’t take offense to it. You give them some time to cool off, going back to tossing your ball in the air and catching it as you watch tv. 

Around an hour or two later you decide they’re fine now, or at least fine enough to talk to. So you get up, heading first to the kitchen to grab a bottle of cold water and then to the general training room. 

The sound of familiar huffs and the pounding of fists against a leather bag let’s you know your assumption was right. Your redheaded love is off to the fair side of the gym, headphones in her ears as she beats on the punching bag. 

You smirk at the sight of her. Not only do her yoga pants and sports bra look great on her, you always find her focused and slightly aggressive expression kind of hot. She glances at you as you approach and you know she can hear you despite her headphones.

Stopping behind the bag, you lean on it, showing off your smirk to the woman.“ If you really want to work off your frustrations I can think of a good way to do so.” Natasha grunts, rolling her eyes and focusing on punching the bag. 

With a sigh, you move to her side, gently taking her taped up hands and moving in front of her. Forest green eyes look into yours and you give her your best encouraging smile. She knows what your silent question is and sighs.

“The mission went south. We suffered a civilian casualty and others got hurt.” Her expression and tone remain neutral but obviously she’s upset about this. It isn’t her first time dealing with this kind of thing from a mission but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t hate every bit of it. 

“I’m sorry to hear that baby.” You raise your hands to her arms and gently rub them, squeezing a little in between.

Natasha’s heart warms at your soft comforts.“ I’ll be okay. Wan is more torn up than I am. She-” The woman shakes her head,“ she blames herself.” 

You frown, prepared to ask for more details. Then you figure you can ask the girlfriend who’s more deeply affected by it. 

“I’ll go talk to her.” Natasha nods at your words.“ You gonna be okay?” A teasing smile forms on your lips.“ I know you’re my super tough ex-assassin but I’m here if you want to talk.”

Her lips tug up in the corner at your teasing words, but it quickly becomes a sincere smile when you offer your ear. Slowly reaching up, she runs the pad of her thumb along the apple of your cheek.“ I’m okay detka. I’ll let you know if I need to talk. Or your other services.” 

You chuckle softly and nod. Leaning forward, you press a soft, quick kiss to her lips and part, heading off to find your other girlfriend. The not so tough witchy one you love just as much. 

Finding the woman proved to be a little harder than you thought it would be. She wasn’t in any of the places you thought she would be in: the library, the theater, the common room. You wrack your brain for ideas as to where she is and when the last place pops into mind, you can’t believe you hadn’t thought of it first.

It’s a quick jog to the elevator and an even shorter ride up to the top floor. From there you take the stairs up to the roof. 

She’d stolen this spot from you a few months after you started dating. She and Natasha found you up there smoking once and through the year and a half she would find you up here, sometimes sneaking a smoke when you shouldn’t be. 

Her long brown tresses fall down her back freely, the rest of her beauty hidden as she faces away from you. Though you still find her insanely cute that she’s in your hoodie and some stretch pants. 

The long slow straightening of her form clues you in on her deep breath, her body relaxing as she lets it go. You only get a little confused when she pauses and does it again. A thought that you’re unsure of, but the physical cues make you curious. The familiar movement of her arm, the deep breath, the pause. 

“Wan?” You call with an indescribable look on your face. 

Your brunette girlfriend’s shoulders drop and she turns to you. Immediately your eyes focus on the small cylinder in between her fingers, watching as it rises and rests between her lips. 

She takes a quick pull, pauses, let’s a little smoke go, then it all comes out in a straight shot that disperses in the air. It’s such a smooth combination of actions that leaves you wondering if she’d done this before. 

Deciding to hold your comment on that until after she’s completely calm, you take a different route. Approaching her still pacing form, you cross your arms and ask,“ was it that bad?” 

A snort leaves her lips and she takes another drag.“ Worse.” 

“Tell me.” Your hand reaches for her free one and you pull her towards you as you sit on the ledge of the roof. 

Her hand squeezes yours. Your eyes drop from her green ones to her lips as they wrap around the cylinder again, cheeks caving a little, then her lips puckering slightly as she pushes the smoke out. 

“I heard Natasha get hurt,” she starts, fingers once again tightening around yours,“ I looked away for a split second and he got away. We caught him but not until after he shot the tires out on a car. It flipped and crashed into another one.” Her jaw clenches, eyes glossing with tears.“ He hurt a man and his son and- and killed a woman.”

A heavy sigh leaves your lips and you stand, pulling her a little closer to your form. You’d been down this road a number of times. Being on the Avengers team since the beginning almost, you know exactly what it’s like to make a mistake and have others pay for it. It was a deep hole that never ceased to make you hate yourself. But you didn’t want Wanda feeling that way. 

“Hey,” you reach a hand up to cup her cheek, looking into her eyes,“ I know that it hurts. And it’s easy to blame yourself. But it’s not your fault. He made the choices that resulted in that woman losing her life, not you.” 

“But I’m supposed to be the hero. I’m supposed to save people. And I didn’t.” Her accent thickens as she gets choked up, eyes glossing over.

You sigh, taking the cigarette from her hand and putting it out on the ledge, then pull her into your arms. Her head rests on your shoulder and her hands slip up to your shoulder blades.“ You are a hero. A great hero. However, you’re not a perfect one. None of us are. It sucks in situations like this but you can’t save everyone no matter how much we want to. It doesn’t make you a bad person or any less of a hero.”

From the flicker of emotions in her eyes, you can tell it’s still going to take some time for her to cope with this. Still though you see a glimpse of that soft look and you can also see that she believes you to a certain extent.

Raising your hand, you gently push the corner of her lips up. She whines and turns her head away, noncommittally pushing at your side. It makes you laugh and she presses her forehead against your chest.

“Wanna tell me where you got that cigarette from?” You ask. 

She pulls away, producing a pack of cigarettes. Brows furrowing, you flip the top up and count the cigarettes inside. There were four missing.

“Did you smoke four whole cigarettes before I got up here?” An incredulous tone laces your words, disbelief flooding your system. 

Has your habit rubbed off on her? You know she and Nat found it attractive but did that lead Wanda to try it? It’s a terribly unhealthy habit, which is why your girlfriends wanted you to stop, and you certainly didn’t want Wanda getting into it.

“No, I didn’t smoke four. I got these from your boot in the closet,” she tells you.“ Which means you smoked them.”

“I-” you try to think of what to say.“ That was over the course of a few weeks. I haven’t had one in months though.” You know you didn’t need to give her an explanation but you wanted her to know you were still doing well. 

Wanda and Natasha were very well aware of your progression towards quitting. They could even tell the difference in your behavior. Both women were incredibly proud and admittedly you were proud of yourself as well. You had confidence you would be able to completely quit in the fairly near future. 

The younger woman smiles softly at you,“ I know you haven’t. And you don’t have to worry about me starting. It’s actually very nasty and I didn’t feel it did anything for my stress.” 

“Good. I don’t want you forming an addiction and I don’t want to die if Nat found out you’d started by smoking my cigarettes.” 

“She knows now.” 

Nearly jumping a foot in the air, you turn around to see your other girlfriend smirking a little at you. A nervous chuckle leaves your lips and you scratch the back of your neck. 

Rolling her eyes, Natasha steps to the side to stand beside you and Wanda. Her hand slipping into yours, the other held up towards Wanda. 

Wanda sighs and places the pack of cigarettes in Natasha’s hand. The redhead pockets them then takes the younger woman’s hand.“ Neither of you smoke again.” She states plainly. 

Looking at Wanda, you both nod.“ Never again Miss Romanoff.” You and Wanda say simultaneously, bright smiles shown to Natasha.

It’d be harder than that for you but not impossible. Especially not with the support and encouragement of the two women you loved and needed the most.

* * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows​ @natasha-danvers​ @blackxwidowsxwife​ @yumusak-yastik​ @b-5by5​ @fayhar​ @lostandsearching​ @iliketozoneout​ @ecruzsalaz

[libraryofloveletters]

so cute fic request. You are Maddie's OBGYN and at every appointment she insists to set you up with Buck, you deny her and finally one say yes just to be quiet and you meet what a great guy Buck is

The Set Up

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and doctors offices, reader wears makeup, alcohol and the consumption of

Category: Straight Up Fluff 

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Note: here's a lil late v-day present for y’all :) 

Part 2: Dispatch: Labour in Progress 

----

“How does the baby look ?” Maddie was laid back, her eyes on the monitor. “Perfect, a perfect little baby” you smile at her as you hand her a towel to wipe up the gel. 

“How many copies would you like ?” you turn towards the ultrasound machine. 

“As many as you'd give me” she laughed, pulling her shirt back down. 

“Dad’s working ?” you asked, leaning back in the chair. “Yeah, he’s been trying to get off a day to come with me” she sits up, pulling out her phone. 

Maddie was one of your favourite patients, she was a sweetheart and always happy, regardless of what was happening, you didn't know how she did it. She began showing you a few pictures of the nursery and two guys who were in the picture. The first guy was Chimney, who was the baby’s father and Maddie’s boyfriend, the two of you had met at a previous appointment and the other guy, who you hadn't meant yet but felt like you had, was her brother Evan or Buck, which is what he went by. 

“You know, if you want to just come in one day when he's off work, we can just do a regular check-up just so he can see. It doesn’t have to be anything special for you to come in” 

“You’d do that ?” 

“Of course I would, between me and you, you’re my favourite patient” 

Maddie smiled at you, “so,” she gave you a look, “since I am your favourite patient, would you also go on a date with Buck ?” she asked, you nearly choked on your coffee. Maddie had a habit of trying to set you up with her brother. She did it often but it still caught you off guard each time. You coughed, “Maddie, no.” you laughed, “that would be unprofessional” 

“Oh come on, take a risk y/n. Life goes on and one date won't kill you” 

“Who said I’m looking ?” 

“Please, you are. You can't lie to me” she smiled, you shook your head. “Still a no Maddie” you handed her the copies of the ultrasound. “If you do want to do the ultrasound when he’s home, just give me a call” you smiled at her and she got up. “I will, thank you”

-- 

A few weeks later and Maddie was back in your office. “Good afternoon momma,” you were looking at the files as you walked in, pushing the door shut with your foot. Taking a seat on your little spinny chair, you look up when Maddie says good morning back to you. 

“Oh Chimney, it’s nice to see you” you smile as you shake the gel bottle. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “it’s good to be here” 

You hand him the gel bottle, he looked at you with brows furrowed. “You’re a paramedic, aren't you ? Go ahead” you chuckle as you turn the ultrasound machine on. “How are you feeling ?” you ask, “good actually, thanks for asking” Chim answers you. 

“I’m glad to hear that but I was asking Maddie” Chim’s mouth forms an O and he nods, Maddie smiles at him. “I’m good, baby’s good too. Kicking a lot recently. Especially when I drink orange juice” she chuckled. 

“And still just the one cup of coffee ?”

“Yeah, he won’t let me have anymore” she groans 

“Good, as he should be. You’re lucky I agreed to the one cup Maddie, you know I rather if you didn’t” 

“Ugh,” she groaned and rolled her eyes, “not you too” 

“I’m your doctor, it's my job to remind you unfortunately” 

Maddie sighs and rolls her eyes once again. You get what she meant, you couldn’t be pregnant and not have coffee, pregnancy is exhausting as it is, imagine it without coffee. “you know how to use an ultrasound machine right ?” you look over at Chimney, who was looking rather confused. 

”I do, why ?” 

“Would you like to do it ?” 

“Really ?” 

“Yeah, I let the dads have a chance to do it sometime. Makes them feel a little more involved” 

“I'd love too” 

You hand him the wand and step back, you watch as he rolls it across her belly. It was always sweet when the fathers came to the appointment, even more so when they're involved. 

“Y/n?” 

“Yes Maddie?” 

“Will you go on a date with Buck ?” She smiled sweetly at you, Chim looked at her, half shocked and half confused. 

“If I say yes to one date, will you quit bugging me about it ?” 

“Of course, just one date is all I’m asking for” 

“Does he know you’re setting him up ?” 

“Yeah- well no ? but he won't mind. It's part of my job as his sister” 

“Maddie, I have siblings as well, you don't see me setting them up” 

“Yeah yeah, that’s fine” 

Chim turned to you. “everything looks good doc” 

“Then we’re all done. Just hit print on the machine and you’ll get the pictures” 

Maddie wiped the gel off her stomach. She took a pen from the desk and scribbled a number down before handing the paper to you. “That’s his number, just message him” 

“You’re setting me up and I have to message him too ?” 

“Oh come on, you’ll be fine. Thank you for this and I'll be expecting details at my next appointment!” She gave you a smile before walking out. Chim looked at you, “I’m sorry I didn't know she was going to do that.” You laughed, “it's okay, she’s not the first person to do that. You should catch up with her though, she walks really fast for a pregnant lady” you chuckle, Chim smiled and walked out to find Maddie. You had some time to kill before your next appointment, you looked down at the paper in your hand. 

Do you text or not ? Wouldn't that be creepy ? Like oh hey, I'm your sister’s doctor let's go on a date.

You know what ? 

Screw it, what’s the worst that could happen. 

To Buck: Hey, I'm y/n. Your sister gave me your number, hope this isn't weird. She's been trying to set me up with you for months, thought we’d hit it off haha

God that was so stupid. Why the hell did you put haha ?

From Buck: Hey, it’s cool. She’s weird like that. What’s up ?

Oh shit, he answered. 

To Buck: Just at work, how about you ?

From Buck: Same thing 

Wait what do I say now ? Do you ask him out ? 

From Buck: Hope this isn't too forward of me or anything like that, but maybe you’d wanna grab a drink tonight ? Only if you’re free

Guess you don't have to ask him now 

To Buck: Yeah, that sounds good. Pick a place and let me know ? I’m off at 4 so anytime after that is fine. 

From Buck: I’m off at 6, how about 7 at the bar on Main Street ? 

To Buck: sounds good, see you then 

It was now 3:30 and Maddie was your last patient of the day. There was no harm in leaving now. After putting away your files and replying to a few emails from patients, you headed out. Only one issue you had when you got home was what to wear. 

Well so you thought. 

Taking a shower was the easy part, trying to do your hair and makeup with only 2 hours left, was a bit of a hassle. First disaster of the night was too much mousse in your hair, making it sticky and tacky. Washing it out, you managed to set it the way you like. The powder compact had fallen onto the floor, you hoped it wasn’t broken, turns out hope isn't enough. The other powder you had was far too light for your complexion right now and you decide against makeup for the night. 

Let him meet the bare you, you can wow him next time, if there is a next time. 

Deciding on a simple outfit, a white shirt that fit you nicely and a pair of black pants that went along with it. In your head, it seemed boring but in the mirror, it looked much better. Walking into the kitchen, there was a half drunk glass of wine from the night before.

Stale wine or nervous wreak ? Stale wine it is. 

You down the wine, spilling some onto your shirt. “Are you kidding-” groaning and turning back to the room, you end up changing your entire outfit. A pair of blue jeans and a black top that fit you in all the right places. One more look in the mirror and a hand through your hair, you headed out the door. 

It didn't take you long to arrive at the bar, as you only lived a few minutes off Main Street. You had seen Buck from the countless pictures Maddie had shown you so it didn’t take long to spot in at a table in the corner either. 

“Hey” you walked over, a smile on your face. He stood up, “Hi! you must be y/n” he leaned in for a hug, you mirrored his actions. “I am, it’s nice to meet you” 

The two of you sat across from each other and there was a bottle of beer in front of you. Buck spoke up when he noticed you noticing the bottle, “I ordered for you, I hope that's alright- you can order something else” 

“It’s fine, thank you” you take a sip, not your usual choice in drink but you didn't need to complain either. There was some silence for a while, not uncomfortable but not comfortable either. Anyone that passed by could tell it was a first date, if you could even call it that. 

“How do you know Maddie ?” he asks, you smile at him and take a sip of the beer before answering him. 

“I’m her OB” 

“Her ?” Buck had a confused expression on his face. 

“Her doctor, her obstetrician actually” 

“Oh for baby Buckley” he nodded. 

“Yeah, she's been bugging me about you since we’ve met actually. She’s sweet but she’s persistent” you chuckle and Buck gives you a smile, “that’s my sister” 

The night went by rather quickly, the two of you sharing work stories. Buck told you about the time he worked a full moon and they responded to a call at a yoga class only to have 3 women go into labour simultaneously. 

“It was the full moon I swear! I tried to tell Bobby but he didn't listen to me!” he said, laughing. 

You nodded and laughed too, “no, it’s true. I've had so many full moon babies. I never book off full moons because I know someone is going to go into labour”

“Thank you! Someone gets what I mean!”

You then told him about the time you filled in for your colleague, he told you it was supposed to be a regular birth but turns out it was quadruplets. It was nice to find someone who understood your weird work schedule. The two of you shared stories until the waitress came over to tell you that they’d be closing in a few minutes. It was a little past midnight when she came over, the two of you decided to call it a night and head out together. 

“How are you getting home ?” he asked you, you walked with him over to his Jeep that was parked down the street. “I’ll just walk, I don’t live too far from here” 

“No” he stated while shaking his head 

“No ?” you questioned him, your brows furrowed as you looked at the man in front of you.

“I invited you out, at least let me take you home. It’s late too, it won't be right to let you walk home by yourself” 

“Are you sure ? I don't want you to go out of your way” 

“Oh no it’s cool, c’mon” 

He opened the door for you like the gentlemen he is and then got in after. “Which way my darling ?” he gave you a cheesy smile which made you chuckle. “A left at the next light and the brown building is me” you leaned back in the seat. It was quiet as he drove down the street, you looked over at him and admired him. From the way his hand rested on his wheel to the little smile on his face, even to the birthmark above his eye. 

“It's rude to stare” 

“Can't help myself, you're pretty” 

Oh shit, did you just-

Buck looked over at you, a wicked little smile on his face. “You think I’m pretty ?” 

You could feel the blush on your face, “uh- well- um I guess ?” 

“I think you more than guess that but whatever you say” he smiled 

Buck pulled into the building parking lot, he stopped and his head hit the seat as he leant back. Looking over at you, “let me walk you up ?” 

“You’ve already done enough, it's fine” 

“It’s fine. Come on” he got out, you mirrored his actions. Buck followed behind you as the two of you made your way up to your apartment. Unlocking the door, you stepped in and he stood by the door. 

“Do you want to come in ?” setting your keys on the counter, you look back at the man who was leaning against the doorframe. 

“I’d love too but I've got the first shift. Maybe another time ?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine” walking back over to him, you stood in front of him. Even with him leaning, he still towered over you. 

“I had a nice time tonight” you say, he nods. “I did too. Maybe we can do this again sometime ?” 

“I'd like that” 

“Okay.” he smiles, “well, good night then y/n” 

“Good night Buck” standing on your toes, you go to kiss his cheek but it seems he had the same idea, both of you turning your heads at the same time and your lips were on his. Buck’s hand cupped your face for the few moments your lips were on his. When you pulled away, Buck had a slight red tint on his face, a blush or simply could have been the heat coming from your apartment, either way you were sure you looked the same way. 

“How does Saturday sound ? Noon for lunch if you’re free ?” he breaks the silence.

"Saturday sounds perfect” 

Buck smiled at you once more, he turned and began walking back to the elevator. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, turning back once again and walked towards your door.  He leaned down and gave you one more kiss. Laughing at the sweetheart that was now smiling at you from the other end of the hallway, you watched as he stepped on the elevator and then shut your door. 

Outside of your building was a happy Buck who skipped his way over to his car, his keys twirling on his finger with a big grin on his face. As he got into his car, he sent his sister a text message. 

To Maddie: You seem to know me better than I think, thank you. 

Upstairs, there was a similar scene, a happy you skipping their way to bed with a smile on their face. As you laid in bed, you too sent a text message to Maddie. 

To Maddie: Your match making efforts have worked, thank you. 

----

taglist: @mrs-dr-reid @ssa-volturi @advicefromnixxxx @dralexreid @keenmarvellover @venusrosepetal @mikaelson-emma @beth-winchester21

[americxn]

“What happened? What the hell happened. Why do you make it so hard to love you?”

Kai Anderson x GN!Reader

This is definitely not good enough to enter, but I used the prompt from @tatesimper anniversary writing competition so I guess this is my entry? (fig, I’m so sorry for butchering such a good prompt lmao)

also, I realised when writing it that this could serve as a prologue to this fic:

https://americxn.tumblr.com/post/652835852669648896/paranoia

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: genocide/murder mention, swearing (this is based off episode 11 of season 7)

The night air was cool on your exposed face as you took the front steps to the door of Kai’s house, not bothering to knock as you pushed it open, the warmth and light from within spilling onto the smooth concrete of the front step and pooling around your feet; having been in a committed relationship with Kai from a year and a half now, this house was practically your own. Stepping past the front porch after abandoning your shoes and jacket, you entered the uncharacteristic quiet of the house, scanning the hallway for any signs of life, usually abundant within these walls in the form of Kai’s blue shirt-clad, blindly deferential followers. 

 “Okay. A little bad news to start,” your body instinctively angled towards the voice, distinctly Kai, that sounded through the empty hall from the back room. You set off down the hallway, his voice growing in volume as you approached, somewhat confused. He hadn’t notified you of a scheduled cult meeting that evening and yet his tone of voice was threaded with the assertive cadence that he utilised only when addressing his followers.  “It turns out finding a thousand pregnant women to murder is super hard. No one will ever accuse me of lacking ambition.” He continued as you reached the threshold to the large room at the back of the house that served as a secondary living room; breath catching in your throat, you halted, your hand reaching for the wood of the doorframe to steady yourself as the meaning of his words settled into you. To murder? “So, Night of a Thousand Tates is off.” A ripple of groans and dejected sighs rose from the small sea of men at Kai’s words, quickly falling silent to allow him to continue. “But, Night of One Hundred Tates is on.” His words sent a wave of prickly dread spider walking down your spine; he hadn’t told you about any of this. Killing a thousand pregnant women? You wanted to stride into the room with a bright laugh to wave away his abhorrent words and demand for the real reason that he had called a meeting. But you knew. A terrible, truth filled part of you was all too aware that he was deadly serious A chorus of thrilled cheers drifted up from the small crowd in twisted elation with the newly revealed knowledge that their hands would still be stained with blood by the end of the night. Your breath became too loud in your ears, your mouth turning utterly dry as you examined your suddenly empty mind for a solution to Kai’s monstrous plan that you could use to convince him to call it off. But you came up short, taking a small step back into the safety of the dimly lit hall, your back coming to press against the wall beside the open doorway to ensure that nobody would be able to see you eavesdropping from within. This was too far. Kai had done many questionable, twisted things over the past year but this... this was too far. You were full of self hatred for the amount of things that you had stood aside for and let Kai go ahead with, but not this. You refused to take so much of an ounce of accountability for this. Pulling your phone from the confines of your back pocket, you drew in a shuddering, grounding breath, your thumb working on the keypad. The digit shook as it pressed onto the screen, your teeth catching between your lower lip as your gaze flicked from the brightness of the device’s screen to the open doorway at your side. The sequence of 911 you had typed glared up at you, bathing the underside of your jaw in artificial light as you craned your neck, leaning forwards slightly to peer into the room. Kai stood by the far wall, his men arranged in a neat group before him, all sitting straight backed to attention on their chairs.  Just behind Kai, displayed on the low table pushed against the wall were two silicone models of a woman’s torso, ripe with the swell of a baby within; one was positioned to the side as a cross sectional diagram, the other facing straight on, the small model of a baby in the third trimester curled up within the artificial uterus. Your attention snapped back to Kai as he took a step forwards to address the group.  “Look under your chairs, I’ve handed each of you a unique list of targets, all ready to pop.” Your stomach twisted in horrified disbelief as the men all shifted in unison, pleasure curling the corners of their lips upwards as they read the names of the people they were soon to mercilessly slaughter. You watched with teary eyes as an impressively built, stocky man who you didn’t know the name of slowly lifted his hand to the ceiling, Kai’s eyes immediately flicking to him in agitation. “You raise your hand one more fucking time and I will cut it off.” The powerfully built man visibly shrunk down into his chair at Kai’s hissed statement of reproval but timidly uttered his question of “how do we know they’re all pregnant?” Kai’s eyes flashed in impatient annoyance as he tore his eyes off the man, flicking them briefly up to the ceiling before deigning to answer. “Because Gutterball pulled the rosters of four ob-gyns, two Lamaze classes and a Momtra Yoga over on Main. Great job, Gutterball.” The blond man who went by Gutterball, sat on the front row of chairs close to Kai, beamed in self-gratified delight at Kai’s gracious recognition, lifting a fist into the air in triumph. Kai smiled proudly down at him before turning to address the group as a whole once more. Your eyes flicked down to the bright screen of your phone, the numbers displayed there beckoning. Your thumb twitched, a conflicted frown creasing your forehead as Kai continued on, pulling your attention back to him. “Manson’s family - I admire them, but they did get a little sloppy.” You watched on in nauseating alarm as Kai pulled a large blade from the black sheath at his hip with a flourish, the metal glinting in the light of the room. “Their message got lost in their mess. What we are doing requires more precision. It is imperative that both mother and child are impaled. Don’t fuck this up.” He scanned the gathering before him, gaze as sharp as the knife clutched in his grip before turning to the models behind him.  “Aim for the belly button but stab in a downward motion. If you stab straight,” in one fluid motion, he had buried the curved tip of the blade in the portion of the fake uterus just above the baby’s head with a solid thunk, “you miss the baby - and our entire message is lost.” Withdrawing the knife, he turned back to address his cult, the weapon hanging loosely from his fingertips by his thigh. “Tomorrow night, when your blades tear open one hundred pregnant bellies, you will be releasing a power into the universe. Detonating a neutron bomb of truth, blood and amniotic fluid. You will be galvanising an army.” “With their sisters gutted, women everywhere will be forced to react. They can’t ignore an injustice this brutal. They’ll have to rise up, and in their collective rage, they will train it on Senator Jackson, on all incumbents, on any of the people in power who failed to keep us safe. As the most vulnerable are slaughtered, as the pregnant bodies pile up on Senator Jack-off’s watch, we will be surfing an electoral bloodbath straight to Capitol Hill. And then… the White House.”  The collection of cult members all voiced their assent in a chorus of whoops and ovated cheers, a nauseating sense of unease dragging it’s claws up the length of your spine. You turned away with hot tears blurring your vision, not wanting to hear more, your phone a heavy weight in your hand and the decision it presented even heavier.

Sat on the edge of Kai’s large bed, your knee couldn’t cease it’s anxious bouncing, your lower lip chewed raw by your teeth. The door swung open suddenly, sending your heart leaping into your throat. Kai stepped into the room, the small smile stretching across his lips broadening as he beheld you perched on the mattress’ edge. “Hey, when did you get here?” He questioned, reaching to tug you to your feet and wrap his arms tightly around you in a warm embrace. “I only got here like five minutes ago.” Your lie was muffled into the thin shirt at his shoulder, his hands splayed flat on your upper back as he held you close to him. Withdrawing yourself from his grasp, you frantically scanned his face, heart sinking at the pleasure dimly glowing in the depths of his dark eyes, pleasure fuelled not by your sudden appearance, but in anticipation of the merciless slaughter that he would be carrying out in mere hours time. “What?” He asked curiously, his head tilting slightly in concern as his smile faded, caught in the grave despondency of the stare you had him pinned under. His tape-wrapped hands settled on his shoulders; shaking him off, you stepped away, your chest bubbling with emotion that was dangerously close to spilling over. Dropping your gaze to the floor, you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, forcing the tears that threatened to flow to stay at bay. Groaning through clenched teeth, colourful sparks flashing through your blocked vision from the force with which you pressed your hands into your eyes, you blindly felt Kai’s warmth as he stepped forwards to comfort you. Dropping your hands, you retreated another step, Kai stilling at the look of stangled confliction latching onto your features. “What happened?” Voice breaking, you brought a hand up to press against your forehead, icy panic unfurling in your gut amongst the turmoil of roiling distress flooding through your insides. Kai looked utterly lost, his eyes boring into yours as he searched for an answer to the question that he couldn’t understand. “What the fuck happened to you, Kai?” His heart splintered at the raw anguish in your choked, lamenting tone, automatically taking a step towards you, wanting nothing more than to smother the emotions swarming your features. “I used to be so, so happy with you.” His lips parted in disbelief as you continued. “I would’ve done anything for you.” You couldn’t help the tears that spilled over, your voice pushing past the quivering of your lower lip and growing in strength, your breaths turning sharp and rasping as they were sucked in between your passionate words. “Y/n…” He didn’t know what to say as he watched you struggle to keep a grasp on coherency.  “I don’t know what happened to him. To the Kai that I fell in love with. But he’s gone now. He’s gone and I don’t know how to get him back.” Sorrow gave way to desolate fury as you plowed on, your jaw clenching as you stepped towards him to deliver a harsh shove to his hard shoulders. Kai fell utterly silent, stumbling back slightly under your touch, unnerved and unsure by the eruption of messily confessed words that spilled from you, seemingly out of nowhere. “Answer me.” You demanded gruffly, shoving at his solid frame once more. “I… y/n, I don’t know-” With a third shove, his eyes flashed in agitated warning, silently daring you to repeat the action a fourth time. You did, shoving at him with as much force as you could muster, breathing hard when he took ahold of your wrists, pulling you to him and pouring his branding stare onto you. “Stop.” Your face was flushed, plump tears cutting through your face and dripping from your chin as you plowed on. “What happened, Kai?” His nostrils flared, eyes wide in confusion as he battled to grasp onto your thoughts, to make coherence of the biting words falling from your lips. “What happened? What the hell happened. Why do you make it so hard to love you?” Your ragged breaths filled the sudden silence in the room, the roaring silence infiltrating Kai’s head drowning out all other sense as he stared down at you in cold disbelief, your eyes wild and face screwed with festering ardour, raw and demanding, your lashes damp with bitter tears. A symphony of surprised shouts echoed up the stairs from the ground floor of the house, Kai’s attention snapping to the door at his back and eyes flooding with sharp panic. He released his hold on you as the cries from below grew in volume, laced with alarm. A single gun shot rang out and it was your turn to take ahold of Kai, the tape wrapped tightly around his wrists warm under your fingers. His head whirled back to you, his eyes alight with uneasy confusion, his gaze frosting over. Bringing your face closer to his, you laid a single, lingering kiss to his lips, your own wet against him. “I’m sorry.” You said quietly, several heavy sets of footsteps sounding from behind the door as they thundered up the stairs. Kai’s eyes frantically searched yours as he pulled against your unrelenting grasp, his gaze briefly parting from yours to snap to the door as the sequence of footsteps and shouts grew louder. “But I can’t let you do this.” His throat bobbed, his eyes widening in terror as the reality of the situation settled over him. “I sentence you to rot.” Tugging at his wrists, you forced your face closer to his before muttering to him, your breath hot on his face and the recognition of your betrayal manifesting in the cold fire smoldering in his gaze: “Just like how my love for you has turned to rot.” His face contorted in rage as the bedroom door was forced open, the panel of wood swinging open and hitting the adjacent wall with a bang, several armed policemen flooding into the room. You loosened your grip on his wrists, stepping away as two of the men took ahold of Kai by the back of his shirt, twisting his arms behind his back. He shrieked in rage, straining to turn his head towards his assailants as they began to pull him from the room. Sinking down onto the edge of the bed, you locked eyes with Kai’s as he turned back to you, cool rage simmering in his dark gaze, his lip curled into an enraged snarl. He pinned you with his stare, not even bothering to fight against the men holding him as he was pulled from the room, a savage promise glittering in his unrelenting stare. A promise of vengeance. Of suffering. 

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