#a body like that oughta be in jail

[wishingicouldbethereforya]

Bum 🍑🤲🌚🥳👀💥🍑 Bum

[bucknastysbabe]

WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN Sheriff Lee Bodecker WOOF WOOF BARK BARK ARF BARK GRRRR WOOF

BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK GRRRRRR HERE YOU GO NONNIE I HOPE YOU ENJOY OUR SHERIFF

AU Bingo - Western - Lee Bodecker

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Surprise moment, non-con play, breeding kink, dirty talk, restraints, outlaw!reader, pnv!sex, PUSSY EATING LIKE A CHAMP, slight overstim, Lee is Possessive, confessions of love

A/N: I don’t beta we die like Lee in the woods😀

Well the gig was up. Maybe. Probably so.

You’d likely be hanging in the morning in front of an excited crowd of idiotic townspeople. Some bounty hunter by the name of Arwin dropped you right off into Knockemstiff’s sheriffs building. Here you sat in a minuscule jail cell, some crazy frothing at the mouth next to you and this freak catcalling from the right.

You were doing your own thing trying to get money for your gang when the bounty hunter surprised you in a damn trap. A trap? What were you, some sort of rookie? Peering out the tiny window you frowned. The gang was probably not going to get your ass. Left here to rot.

Clanging on the metal bars jerked your attention forward. A man with dark hair and rather intense blue eyes smirked at you. He tipped his hat, sheriff’s badge gleaming on his chest. You hissed, “What’chu want? Ya’ gonna hang me regardless. I know what I did.��

He cocked his head and hummed, “Nah. I don’t think you did sweetheart. Think we need to do some interrogatin’ down in the pit here.”

Your heart began to race. Something in his eyes told you this wasn’t a normal ‘interrogation’. The sheriff stalked forward, big body looming over your own, thick fingers coming to grip your chin. Chains rattled as your hands shook in your lap. He grinned, “Awe, lookit’chu, scared lil’ bunny now huh?”

You grimaced, cheeks flushing as you looked away.

“C’mon then,” he huffed, jerking you by your bonds. The sheriff practically hauled you with one arm, walking in that slow strut of his. You spat, “Fuck you, they’ll come get me and shoot your ass!”

“Sure they will, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that!,” you barked as the man shoved you down the stairs, you stumbling and spurs clacking irritatingly. It was dark down in the ‘pit’. A table, a chair, and an ominous amount of weapons and torture devices. The sheriff crooned, “Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna mess your pretty face up with none a’ that.”

Your cheeks darkened further in embarrassment. A big hand shoved you down in the chair, hooking your manacled wrists above your head with a clink. He drew closer, getting a good look, you could see his last name on the Badge. Bodecker.

“You can just call me Lee if ya’ like, little outlaw,” he pinched your thigh, “Or bunny. That’s whatcha’ are without that gang or yer’ guns.” You glared at him and spat, “Oh fuck off you pudgy sonnuva’ bitch! I oughta.”

You didn’t get to finish the sentence as two fingers slipped in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue roughly, drool leaking out. His handsome face split into a grin, cooing, “You oughta what bun? Kill me? Cuz’ it looks like I gotcha’ to myself.”

Whimpering helplessly and jerking in the bonds had him cooing again, snaking his other hand up your strong thigh. Lee sighed, “I thought you were jus’ the prettiest thing on all those bounty posters, wonderin’ how such a sweet face could be so, so bad?”

All you could do was drool around his fingers, lashes growing wet from tears. You willed away the growing slick between your thighs. This was wrong, so wrong. But you wanted the brunette to coo and stroke you more, down deep. Didn’t get much more than a rough fuck on the run.

He grinned with pretty teeth, grunting as he got down on his knees. Easing his fingers out of your now swollen lips the sheriff sucked on them, slurping with a low moan. Your cheeks burned with heat, pussy throbbing in time with your rising heartbeat.

“If you’re good ta’ me, maybe I’ll let you off,” digits curled around your gunbelt, “Or maybe I’ll just keep ya’ locked up in my place.” You shook your head, wanting to growl but whimpered, “Please…no.”

The gunbelt was discarded and he began to unbutton your pants, peeling them down your thighs, roughened from all the time on horseback. You looked up and away, lips trembling as Lee lowly whistled, “Gorgeous little bunny, not so scary without those big guns huh?”

Big hands spread your thighs apart. You could feel his breath traveling up to your weeping cunt, pressing a couple of kisses along the way. With a strangled grunt you barked, “Q-quit playin’ around!” Bodecker slapped your inner thigh roughly, blue eyes blazing as he glared up at you, full cheeks puffy as he frowned.

Biting down on your lip the sheriff hoisted legs over broad shoulders and lapped a stripe up your pussy. Your wrists clacked in the restraints, mouth falling open with a moan. Bodecker squeezed and massaged your thighs as he licked and ate at you hungrily, moaning.

“Christ!,” you hollered, belly tightened.

The brunette moved to suckle and pointedly lick at your swollen pearl, making you squirm and shy away from the intense pleasure. You had nowhere to go— simply stuck whining and dripping for this horrid man. Bodecker shoved the same thick fingers from earlier into your pussy, stretching and curling maddeningly.

Arching your back you met his pleased expression, lips wet and red. Lee sucked on his teeth and laughed, “Bunny just lovin’ this huh? Yeah, I think m’gonna keep you to myself. Taste too sweet.” He dove back onto your clit before you could rack your muddled brain for an insult.

Involuntarily your thighs clamped tighter onto him as the man curled his wicked fingers faster into that soft spot, tongue flicking and flicking and flicking. Tears streamed down your cheeks now, head tossed back as you painfully arched. In a pitiful whine you said, “Oh, oh fuck Lee, don’t stop, m’so close!” He hummed around you, eyes rolling up as you gushed on his fingers and chin.

You thrashed and cried out, chains jingling at a fever pitch. All you could do was cry and howl his name as the pleasure ran through hot veins.

Eventually the pressure died down and you blinked slowly, legs still curled around his shoulders. Lee pressed a little kiss to your knee, smirking. He asked, “You okay? That was a different little game than we usually play.” You easily picked the lock to the manacles, hands coming to rest on Lee’s cute cheeks.

“Mhm, more than okay, that was fun.”

His blues eyed you grumpily, the man murmuring, “I don’t like playing the big bad guy with you, already do that in real life.” You slid your thighs off the crooked sheriff’s shoulders and into his lap, arms coming around him. Kissing him gently you shrugged, “S’fun to pretend, but we ain’t gotta do it anymore.”

Lee frowned, hands now at your waist. He rumbled, “When’s the rest of your crew rollin’ into town? Y’know I can’t stand Leroy.” Rolling your still slick cunt over your man’s cock had his breath hitching. You breathed, “Mmm, probably round sunset. We got all day with eachother.” You nipped at his ear with a small smile.

“Good,” he stated with a new intensity, “Y’gonna let me fuck that pretty pussy in this mudhole or back in my place?”

He was right, the bed was a much more viable option. Even if it was about to break as you rode him hard into the mattress. Lee gasped your name, meeting your bounces weakly. His cute tummy was soft underneath your groping hands.

The bed creaked in time with your fever pitch fucking, riding Lee’s thick cock with helpless moans and cries. He rambled, “Ah, bun, fuuuck, missed ya’.” Leaning down to kiss his eager lips you grinded down on that sweet spot again, whining against his lips, “M-missed you too baby!”

“You should stay with me all the time, ain’t gotta ride around like that, we can handle business round here,” he panted, groaning between words.

Your hips stilled a little as he purred, “C’mon bun, wouldn’t it be nice, I’ll put a ring on it and a babe in your belly.” The words sent a hot streak up your spine, another shrill whine from your lips. Lee grinned and flipped you into the bed, bigger and softer frame pressing you firmly down.

He fucked into you at a brutal pace, mouth lapping at your bouncing tits. The brunette grunted, “Know ya’ want it, being a mama, handling business and a babe. So damn perfect bun. Gonna let me fill you up this time?”

You wanted it. Wanted it real bad. Riding round all the time was tiring, and Lee was real good to you. Too good for how you ran around on him. Pulling him flush you mewled, “Please, do it, fuckin’ breed me! I love you!”

He mouthed wetly against your sensitive neck, belly and hips slapping roughly against your own. Lee growled, “Y’sure? You wanna’ be knocked up? Y’aint going nowhere, I’ll drag yer’ pretty ass up to the chapel with my cum drippin’ between your legs.” You wailed and clung tighter to him, begging for it like a two nickel whore.

“I love you too bunny,” the brunette groaned as he shoved his cock deep up inside you, flooding your cunt with his seed. The feeling sent you reeling, coming apart sniveling and sobbing, fluttering around him with each contraction of ecstasy. Oh…you really loved this.

Lee kissed your slobbery lips, promising darkly, “Relax now sugar, c’mon, I ain’t letting you out the bed until I’m sure it’s taken. The gang can wait n’the saloon.”

[captorsicallfriends]

Another story- so I'm not gonna tell you everything about my family bc that'd be dumb but I will tell you that my family is full of police officers. Yay. And I didn't think about it much when I was younger but now I'm kind of realising there is no other way this happened than for the purpose of me becoming the main character in a dystopian novel. So I'm sitting at my family Christmas party, surrounded by skinny white able bodied cishet people having, as I'm sure you can oh so clearly imagine, the time of my life (sarcastic). ⚠️This next bit involves racism and mentions of police brutality so feel free to not read this if that kind of thing doesn't sit well with you⚠️ And somehow the conversation switched to the black lives matter movement, and my uncle started running his mouth off on how if George Floyd just "complied" he wouldn't have had to be treated with such force. Oh no. Oh fuck no he did not just say that. Listen listen listen you can deadname me and whine about how disappointing my lifestyle is but the second you come for a whole ass movement aiming for equal rights????? Tell me what you want on your tombstone rn and I'll just write the word moist a bunch of times instead that's how pissed I am. But anyway- I am too shocked to speak like how can you say something like that wtf. So instead of ripping him to shreds like I normally would I just wait until the dinner is over and follow him around the house going "guess who I am", making a bunch of pig sounds, and pointing at him. And Diya when I tell you there is nothing funnier than a grown ass man turning bright red and fuming, winding up his fist going "why I oughta-" while a smug child stands there pushing up their nose and oinking, there really is nothing funnier . This occured the whole night it was extremely funny and I'd definitely be in jail right now if I still spoke to them but anyways. The next morning rolls around and my aunt brings up that murder of the black man who got shot, died, and the cop claims she "thought the gun was a taser". And I go "yeah it's horrific how little coverage that story got and she was obviously racist but if the story she's saying is real by some very very very slim chance it really proves how unqualified cops are to be doing their j-" and was interrupted with "what? No, it was obviously an accident. That poor police officer getting blamed for an innocent mistake 🥺🥺🥺" I'm- if I wasn't surrounded by arseholes 24/7 and also if murder wasn't illegal let me tell you I'd be running this fucking shitshow a whole lot better than like any world leader ever. But the world is a sad sad place so until my mortal soul sheds it's physical form and my primordial existence renews itself with the rage and fury of a thousand suns (approx 2072 if my math is right), we will have to endure more of this bullshit, dear mutuals. But fret not my love's, because we will be forever blessed with the constant opportunity to rebel against the oppressers, and as long as there are people there will be rage and change, no matter how small or helpless it seems. Bet you can't guess what the rest of the afternoon looked like. "Hey hey hey guess who I am" oink oink oink oink oink "that's you" *runs away*

But yea fuck capitalism and I promise one day I'll punch them in their stupid pink faces

that is the funniest shit ever (you imitating a pig and saying it's the cops) and yeah fuck capitalism. acab everyone

[blondrichclosetwitch]

A body like yours oughta be in jail

Cause it’s on the verge of bein’ obscene

Seeing through possession

It might be time to face it

See these eyes so green

These tears can never dry

You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through

“I did everything I wanted to. I let them use you for their own ends.”

Hacks going viral in the bathroom

“Choke her.” (#ron)

Blew

Here is another word that rhymes with shame

You can’t hate your origin and not end up hating yourself.

They pulled a trick that was colossal. When you’re playing ball and they’ve got you trapped, you don’t throw the ball away – – you throw it to one of your teammates who’s in the clear. And she picked it up and has been running it for a touchdown ever since. Operation CrossRoads.

“ and they’re dissatisfied, they’re disillusioned, they’re fed up, they’re getting to the point of frustration where they begin to feel, what do we have to lose? When you get to that point, you’re the type of person who can create a very dangerously explosive atmosphere.”

What are we going to do if this happens, that happens or the next thing happens?

I am for brotherhood for everybody, but I don’t believe in forcing brotherhood upon people who don’t want it. Let us practice brotherhood among ourselves, and then if others want to practice brotherhood with us, we’re practicing it with them also. but I don’t think that we should run around trying to love somebody who doesn’t love us.

You can’t hate the roots of a tree and not hate the tree.

All the things you want to kill will give you spite

The tribe gathered in the lighthouse and tried to conjure

The tribe let out a ROR

Just because you’re paranoid don’t mean they’re not after you

Both of them side by side

So determined

Time travel

Well Annie’s pretty neat, she always eats her meat

I lost my fear and I’m on my war

The last thing I saw they were reading your rights

With your bag full of dresses and butchers knives

And you laugh at yourself as you speed through the red lights

The bed has seen it all

Now every night she play a sad game called pretending nothing’s going wrong

Oh but she knows this show was televised

Lonnie, on another playlist, enthralling

This revolution won’t be televised, we keep it silent

[reynita9]

my mom and I were talking about what items we leave behind when we die, and how the life we live, the objects we keep either blesses or burdens our descendants. If you’re a hoarder, you’re giving your kids a big job to do on top of grieving your death. Sorting through objects is what grieving feels like either way, so it could be on many levels cathartic. But not considerate to give the job to them anyways. I want to live a life surrounding myself with meaningful sentimental prized honored high quality lasting items. Rather than just keeping shit that fills space.

we went on to talk about journals she said. You have all these journals and you keep them. Do u hope somebody reads them one day? I tell her I don’t write for others, I write to empty it from my own energy field. but I think it’s inevitable somebody will read them when I die. I have like 8 consecutive black leather moleskins, chronologically organized..

Most my friends don’t write in journals most my friends write on walls and trains. They hope somebody will read what they write. They write to get it out of their body and they write to be seen. they leave monikers and hope that one day a buddy will pass the same train and get the message. Then maybe they will feel the pull to pick up a phone or paper and reach out. maybe I should have begun writing graffiti all those years ago. Instead of a shelf of books covered in dust, my words would traverse land and sky mountains and glittering bodies of water. writing love letters on steel seems about as emotionally available as I can be sometimes. Maybe if I wrote it in moniker form then my phone would ring more. would take 2 days north to get to desert yard and you’d pick up the phone.

I am still in love with my first boyfriend. We’re both kinda lost and kinda found at 24. My grandfather made a living as a calligrapher. My grandfather never met him but would love him. My mother was conceived on a Royal American Carnival Train. My grandfather smoked cigarettes since he was 11, and organized an escape from his all boys reform school. stacked chairs and gave the guards the finger. that’s how he ended up working in the carnival anyways. My phone doesn’t ring but I know you know my number. I remember when I almost didn’t pick up the call when u called me from jail. All paths led me here but I sometimes fear my finger-to-the-man self. I wish I stopped begging for him to prove he won’t abandon me like the others. I oughta find a career oriented earth sign man or something instead. I would pull my hair out with boredom or instigate shit to make it more fun, and then he would pull out his hair. Ok well that’s enough. Trains are hardly romantic. They’re dirty and loud and cold and a symbol of industry. And you can suffocate in a tunnel pretty easily or get dehydrated if you’re too lazy to carry enough water. Except maybe if these gas prices keep rising..

[itbe-jess]

Masklophobia: Chapter 1 (Part 3)

Not the right time to use his weapon yet, he fled and moved onto the next room. Unfortunately, most of the rooms were locked from the outside. He turned around to find Yum-Yum gaining on him, so he desperately looked for a door that wasn't locked. Thank God, he found one, a Manager's office. He entered, closed the door shut, and locked it. Yum-Yum's body slammed into the door, and she tried to turn the knob, while groaning. After one minute, Yum-Yum gave up and started to move on. The man was relieved, for he was safe for now. Still, he can't stay in this office forever. How many more of them are in the studio?

He needs to upload this footage to YouTube. Aside from popularity, people should know what they're gonna be up against. The authories should be involved, the studio needs to be bulldozed, and somebody oughta send these crazy cosplayers to jail. The man heard more monsterous sounds. With his camera, he peeped at the door's bottom gap to see if Yum-Yum was back. He found blue converse sneakers, on some big wide feet, walking by, and thankfully passing. It must be Junior. If Junior is here, then maybe all of the paradise critters are here too. He relaxed himself on a couch, thinking of a way to steer clear of them, and find them exit. Home will be waiting. Just then, he could hear clattering sounds. Like something may be in the vents. He just stared at the opened vent, aiming his cam to find out what it is. Out crawled the spider lady, Mama LongLegs, from the vent in a very buggy fashion that appeared unsettling. He unlocked the door and ran out. The man moved forward, but as Fins stuck out from the restroom and surprised him, he decided to make his way towards the main entrance instead. Running for his life, he glimpsed at a Karl's Paradise poster shortly, right before Van Goose popped out of it and opened her toothy bill wide. That made the man pick up his pace. After sometime, he made it back to the main stage area. He's almost there. Suddenly, something above grabbed him and elevated him up to the pipe grids. The one he was afraid of the most: Slouch the orangutan. The orangutan engaged in a tight, squeeze choking hug. This brute strength is powerful enough to pop off one's limbs. Remembering the cleaver, he slashed Slouch in the eyes. Funny, he noticed blood drew from them. Slouch let go and placed both hands over his slashed eyes, but that meant letting the man fall. If the mascots don't kill him, then the landing will. Luckily, his fall got broken, but not by anyone who intends to save him. He was now in the arms of Saxxo the tiger. Saxxo lifted up his shades, like he wanted to take a good look at his victim. There were no eyes underneath. Just empty, hollow, black sockets. After that, letting out a short demonic roar, he took a bite into the man's head. The man could feel the teeth against his skin, the saliva saturation, and the tongue moving between his eyes. He was bleeding from it. It felt like a real, painful bite. Taking the cleaver again, the man started to chop at Saxxo's neck. Scary thing was that the cleaver didn't feel like it were slicing through some soft fabric, but rather a mound of genuine flesh. Hard meat. Warm blood was leaking Despite how unnerving it was, he didn't stop until he cut Saxxo's head clean off. The tiger let go, but his body remained standing. This is not a human in a suit! This is not a human in a suit! Saxxo bent down to reach for his shades, while a new head was regenerating fast. Like a frightened child, the man ran the fuck away in crying screams. WHAT ARE THEY?! He found the main entrance, even with the darkness, and ran faster and faster. He couldn't wait to get away from them. Oh no. It can't be! Not now! The door was jammed shut. And with his upper body strengh, no possible way he could budge it. He wailed, pounded at the door, calling for any help from outside. It ended there when a magic wand stabbed through his chest. Turning his head, the wand belonged to Barkstone, the magician dog. With ten seconds of terror in his eyes, the man dropped dead. Feast time.

[hellsfanatic]

TW: talks of fights, blood, non-graphic fighting, alcohol

—

“Hey Dal!” Johnny called for me as I walked out of Buck’s. I turned back. His face was bloody and bruised and he had a real bad limp to his walk. My heart dropped, I hadn’t ever seen Johnny this hurt, not even from his old man.

I walked to Johnny so he didn’t have to struggle anymore. “Hey, kid, what happened to ya, man?” I asked, looking at the blood dripping from the cut on his cheek. Gosh, whoever did this was in for a h*ll of a ride when I found them. Maybe they’d end up dead, but I wanted them to suffer more than they made Johnny.

“I don’t know, man,” he murmured. He brought his arm to his cheek, wiping the blood off. I swear I thought he’d faint any second after that. He really did have a nasty cut, real deep into his face, too. “I just,” he paused for a moment, “some d*mned Socs saw me, I think they were dr*nk. They sure acted it if they were. I tried yellin’ for y’all but I guess they shut me up pretty quick huh,” he spoke, almost like he could feel each hit he was remembering again. Maybe he could, because he winced in pain every now and again.

Slinging my arm around his shoulders to keep him up, I said, “C’mon John, let’s get you to my room, we can use one of Tim’s old shirts to clean up that cut. Got any others?” He didn’t say anything, just nodded. Of course there were more, of course. Boy, those Socs sure were building a reputation for themselves, they’d be dead before they knew it. Man, they might as well be dead now, it’d be better for them.

We got to my room, and honestly it was pretty hard. Johnny’s limp didn’t get any better, and gosh, those stairs were anything but fun to help him up. “Kay John, where’s the rest of ‘em?” I asked, pressing a cloth with some alc*hol on it to the cut of his cheek. He flinched, but let me keep going. I know that stuff burns, but I had to do it. Keeping his silence, he pulled off his jacket. His shirt was covered in crimson red blood around a slice in it. It reached from his lower rib to his waist, but it wasn’t too deep.

“The other’s on my leg,” Johnny mumbled.

“I’ll get that one in a second, man. I gotta fix this one up first. Stay right here, ya hear?” I cocked an eyebrow. He nodded. “Good. I’m gonna go ask Buck somethin’. Hold that cloth right there, got it?” I moved my hand from the cloth I was pressing on his cut so he could get a grip on it. “Don’t you go takin’ that thing off. I don’t wanna clean up more blood than I gotta. Keep pushin’ down too.”

Johnny was holding it to the cut like I said, so I left. Everyone downstairs was real loud, especially compared to Johnny. Buck wasn’t dealing with anyone just then, so I pulled him to another room. It was still loud, but this was the best we were going to get. Closets aren’t usually used for partying anyways.

“Whatcha need Dally?” he almost had to shout. At a party this wild, he knew something had to be wrong since I wasn’t out talking to one of the pretty girls at the bar or drinking. Well, I probably wouldn’t have pulled him into a closet if I didn’t need something either.

I looked around the closet, trying to see what he had. “You got any of those bandages, man? I was gonna use a cut up shirt, but I don’t know if that’ll work for this one. It’s uh, it’s a pretty gnarly cut. Right down the side, man. Like that one kid the town over. Rusty? Rusty-James, I think. His was deeper, though. No bones showin’ on this kid, thank God.”

“Bad cut huh? That why you was bringin’ that kid up there? Yeah, man, he looked pretty beat up,” he said, starting to walk out. “Might got some upstairs. I don’t know how much yesterday’s brawl took. They were both pretty messed up. Man, you shoulda seen it. ‘Betcha could’ve won if you were there. They were pretty big guys, though,” he continued, heading up the stairs with me.

We looked over what he had and grabbed the bandages. “I’ll put ‘em back when I get what I need,” I told him, already making my way out the door. I had left Johnny alone longer than I wanted to already, I couldn’t keep using my time like this.

I got back to my room, seeing Johnny resting his head on the wall. Man, he looked like he could see the d*mn Grim Reaper standing in the corner, waiting for the exact moment he was gone. “Hey, John, take that rag off the cut will ya? I got some bandages so you don’t gotta hold that thing there the whole night,” I told him, unraveling the roll. He listened real well, not like it was much to do, but he sure did it. Getting him wrapped up was pretty easy, probably because he didn’t make a huge fuss like a little kid. There were a few hisses of pain when I pulled them too tight, but he tried to keep them back.

“Man, you almost done?” he asked, sounding tired.

“Yeah, Johnny, almost.” I wrapped the bandages around him a couple more times, then backed away. “There. Now don’t go messin’ that up, ya hear?” He just nodded. Not like Johnny would purposely mess it up. I cleaned up the rest of his cuts, which wasn’t that hard. It was pretty bloody, though. That one on his cheek would scar, I knew it. Kind of made him look like a pal I had back in New York, that guy would get in fights even if he knew he’d lose. He just wanted the thrill. Man, he was fun.

Johnny seemed just about ready to fall asleep. If he had the chance I’m sure he would. His eyelids were tugging themselves down and he was leaning his whole body on the wall. I’ll bet limping all the way to Buck’s didn’t exactly boost his energy. I tried to get his attention after a minute or two, but he didn’t even look at me. He must’ve fallen asleep. He was already on the bed, I just laid him down. I wasn’t too thrilled about the blood from his shirt getting on the mattress, but what was I going to do? Put him on the floor? No way.

There wasn’t much to do, so I left. Johnny could stay put until I came back, anyways. He told me a couple things about those Socs, like the car they were in and that one of them had some rings. D*mn, he wouldn’t shut up about those rings. They were the things that cut his cheek. The guy punched him across the face. For rings, they went deep.

The air was cold, it matched the silence of town. There were a couple people, but they weren’t being loud. It was late, too, so most things were closed. That’s probably why it was like that. The corner store’s light was on, brightening up the sidewalk and street. I went in, just to look around. I couldn’t afford jail time when I had to find those guys who got Johnny. I’d go to jail for k*lling them, sure, but not some stupid shoplifting now.

The car.

That was their car. Johnny said it was a blue Mustang. This was a blue Mustang. Those aren’t just everywhere around here. I pushed past the couple looking at magazines together and went straight out the door. I was following that car. I wasn’t stopping until they did and I’d get them. I’d get them real good.

It slowed down after not too long in some alleyway. They must’ve seen me or heard my shouting. Three guys got out. The guy from the driver’s side, some preppy guy, had big rings on his left hand. Rings that could definitely cut up someone’s cheek. He took a drink from his flask, tossing it in the car and slamming the door. A dopey grin grew on his lips. Man, I’d knock that right off. It’d be the first thing I’d do.

“Lookie here, boys, we got that kid’s guard dog. Someone’s mad his little friend got beat up,” the first Soc sneered. The other two snickered. “I think Winston here’s lookin’ to match his pal, ain’t he boys?” he said as the three of them took a few steps forward.

That’s all I remember from them. I could maybe recall a couple blurred moments of fighting and them driving off, but I could never give details about it. I guess I had a busted lip and some bloody knuckles to show for it, though. I got away better than the Socs did, they could barely get themselves back in the car. That could’ve been the alc*hol too, though.

I was making my way to Buck’s, which definitely felt longer than normal, probably since I was pretty hurt. I can’t imagine what it was like for Johnny, he was banged up even worse than me. I wonder how long it took him to get to Buck’s. I doubt he’d know the answer if I asked him. He was probably just focused on finding one of us and trying to stop his bleeding.

The noise only got louder as I opened the door, leaving a pounding sensation in my head. It eased as I made my way upstairs, opening the door to the room I was staying in. Johnny was still out, good. He seemed like he could sleep for a good while if I let him. I closed the door, making sure not to let it slam. Doors slamming always scared Johnny.

His bleeding had stopped, but I had a couple cuts I wanted to take care of. For a three on one fight, I’m surprised I only got a few. These might not even scar too bad. Grabbing a new cloth and wiping off the blood that ran from my forehead to my cheek, I looked in the mirror. Man, I did not look too great. My face was pale, my eyes seemed tired, and my hair was in a jumbled mess of blond. One look at me and you’d think I either just got out of a fight or rose from the grave. I mean, I had enough blood on me to match one of those over-exaggerated zombies from a movie.

I heard the sheets move, so I looked back. Johnny was up. “Hey kid, you oughta go back to sleep, I bet you need it,” I told him. He yawned quietly, stopping halfway through and holding his stomach. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, opening slowly as he pushed himself to sit up straight.

“Nah man, I ain’t gonna be able to sleep much anyways. Dal, you try sleepin’ with a split down the middle of ya,” Johnny groaned. Now that I think of that, it probably hurt real bad even just laying down. He looked at me, freezing up almost immediately. “Gee Dally, what happened to you? I don’t remember hearing a bar brawl downstairs.”

I let out a small laugh. “C’mon John, don’t worry about it. Don’t go worryin’ ‘bout them Socs neither. They ain’t gonna hurt you,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. Strands of hair wrapped around my fingers, some darkened by blood, that were getting pulled out of my scalp.

“Well why wou-” he cut himself off, realization settling on his face. “Dallas tell me you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t go after him man, please,” he said, seeming at least a little worried. “Man they’ll kill you I swear it. Dal they ain’t gonna give up, tell me you didn’t do it.”

I tugged my shirt down at the collar, showing some of the cuts they tried to land on my neck. “Johnny I ain’t gonna lie to ya, I did it.” His expression fell.

“Dally,” he sounded a little annoyed as he tried to get up. He let out a groan of pain, but pushed through and stood. “Dally, that’s probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. You do a lot of stupid things Dallas. Think about this. Just for a second, man. Think about it. They’ll– They’ll get a bunch of guys and they’ll hunt you down Dal! They’ll get away with it too! I don’t want ‘em cuttin’ you up like they did me, you savvy?”

I tried to get him to sit back down. “I’ll be fine, kid,” I mumbled, putting my hand on his arm and gently pulling him down. He tried to keep himself up, but gave in after only a few seconds.

“Yeah I know,” he murmured, leaning his back against the wall. “I just, you go gettin’ roughed up like this so much, one of these times you’re gonna get killed Dally. You are.” He seemed genuinely worried, like he actually thought I’d get myself killed. No way, no day. He probably just wasn’t thinking about all the fights I had won. I had a reputation for winning, so if I lost, it wouldn’t be to the extent of death. I guess I couldn’t prove it to him until I died for real, and I still had a good twenty or thirty years before that happened. Yeah, twenty or thirty years.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Prince Lyrics for Writing Prompts

I’m vibin’ my fave so here are some lyrics that give me different feels. Great for writing!

Up until the other day There remained an empty space within my bed Then I took one look at you And naughty things that we could do -I’m Yours

I'll do anything you want You're the teacher, show me how -I’m Yours

There ain't no other That can do the things that I'll do to you -I Wanna Be Your Lover

I gave you all of my love I even gave you my body Tell me, baby, ain't that enough? -Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad

You didn't have the decency To change the sheets -When You Were Mine

Oh girl, when you were mine I used to let you wear all my clothes You were so fine (so fine) -When You Were Mine

I never was the kind to make a fuss When he was there Sleeping in between the two of us -When You Were Mine

Now I spend my time Following him whenever he's with you -When You Were Mine

If u're looking for somewhere to go Thought I'd take u to a movie show Sittin' in the back and I'll jack u off -Jack U Off

If u really really want to be a star We gotta do it in your momma's car Naked in a cadillac, I'll jack u off -Jack U Off

Bring out what's been in me for far too long Baby, you know that's all I've been dreaming of -Do Me, Baby

Give it to me till I just can't take no more Come on, do me baby, like you never done before I want you now, I just can't wait no more -Do Me, Baby

You're leaving me no choice Okay, what are you gonna do You just gonna sit there and watch? -Do Me, Baby

Are you sure you don't wanna close your eyes? Well, isn't it supposed to take a long time? -Do Me, Baby

I guess I must be dumb 'Cause you had a pocket full of horses Trojan and some of them used -Little Red Corvette

A body like yours oughta be in jail 'Cause it's on the verge of bein' obscene -Little Red Corvette

Girl, you got an ass like I never seen, ow And the ride I say the ride is so smooth, you must be a Limousine -Little Red Corvette

I get delirious whenever you're near Lose all self-control, baby just can't steer -Delirious

I'm an international lover, yeah that's right Let me take U 'round the world I'll buy U diamonds and pearls Only if you're good girl -International Lover

In the event there is overexcitement Your seat cushion may be used as a flotation device -International Lover

Dig if you will the picture Of you and I engaged in a kiss The sweat of your body covers me -When Doves Cry

Touch if you will my stomach Feel how it trembles inside You've got the butterflies all tied up Don't make me chase you Even doves have pride -When Doves Cry

Everybody on this earth has got a vice And mine, little darlin', mine is the opposite of ice -Temptation

Everybody in this room Everybody in this room has got an urge What's yours, baby? Mine is temptation, it reigns at a party where lovers splurge -Temptation

The rain sounds so cool when it hits the barn roof And the horses wonder who you are Thunder drowns out what the lightning sees You feel like a movie star -Raspberry Beret

You don't need experience To turn me out You just leave it all up to me I'm gonna show you what it's all about -Kiss

You can't be too flirty, mama I know how to undress me -Kiss

When we be makin' love I only hear the sounds Heavenly angels cryin' up above Tears of joy pourin' down on us -Adore

I'd like 2 think that I'm a man of exquisite taste A hundred percent Italian silk imported Egyptian lace But nothin' baby, I said nothin' baby could compare 2 your lovely face -Adore

Would U let me take care of U and do all the things That only a best friend can -If I Was Your Girlfriend

Baby can I dress U I mean, help U pick out your clothes -If I Was your Girlfriend

I've got the toys, 2 turn your body out I've got the noise, 2 make u scream and shout -Love Machine

There ain't never been a cleaner girl in the whole wide world Turning in your body's, psyche, dial a perfume that u like, The love machine will put it on u right. -Love Machine

If I gave you diamonds and pearls Would you be a happy boy or a girl -Diamonds and Pearls

All the flowers that you planted mama In the back yard All died when you went away -Nothing Compares 2 U

I could put my arms around every boy I see But they'd only remind me of you  -Nothing Compares 2 U

[superman86to99]

Superman #83 (November 1993)

Funeral for a Friend: uh, that one Green Lantern supporting character who died when Coast City got blown up (Joe? Gary?). In this issue DC’s superheroes pay tribute to the tragedy of Coast City while also deciding what the hell to do with the giant engine that’s now in its place. Weird early ‘90s Hawkman! Dr. Fate with boobs! Already-slightly-psychotic Hal Jordan! EVERYONE IS HERE.

(Nice one, Guy.)

Meanwhile, Lex Luthor Jr. is also sneaking around Engine City, supposedly to prevent it from falling into the ocean and killing some of Aquaman’s friends, but in reality he just wants to look into the Cyborg Superman’s computer to see if he can find a recipe for making kryptonite. As the heroes argue about what to do with Engine City (Hal says drop it into the water, screw the fish), some leftover Warworld aliens start attacking them, like the holdout Japanese soldiers who never found out WWII was over.

The attack precipitates the city’s fall into the water and the heroes have to think fast to prevent a fish holocaust. Their solution is for all the Green Lantern-related characters (Hal Jordan, Guy Gardner, Alan Scott, Alan’s daughter Jade) to “detoxify” the debris with their powers before it falls into the ocean. And it works! These guys should totally open a carpet cleaning business.

As for Lex Jr., he does find the recipe for kryptonite inside the crumbling city, but just as he’s about to write it down (he wasn’t carrying any floppy disks, apparently), Supergirl yanks him out of there to prevent him from burning alive. What an unsupportive girlfriend. Anyway, Superman then takes some of the debris and builds a giant memorial for Coast City’s 6,999,999 anonymous lost souls, and Gary. Sweet Gary. You will be missed.

Creator-Watch:

If the art looks different that’s because this is the first issue inked by Joe Rubinstein, ending Brett Breeding’s classic two and a half year run as Dan Jurgens’ main inker (so classic that it feels a lot longer than that). Breeding will be back for Superman/Doomsday: Hunter/Prey and other stuff, though. As for Rubinstein, Don says: “At  the time, I had trouble with the transition, being soused to Brett Breeding’s finishes over Jurgens’ pencils, but looking at it now, the art looks great. It doesn’t look as smooth or blocky as Breeding’s finishes, but Rubinstein’s hatchier style serves Jurgens pretty well, even if it takes some getting used to.”

Plotline-Watch:

At the start of the issue, Superman goes to pick up Batman to take him to Coast City, only to find him wearing a different costume, acting differently, and sounding like a different guy. That’s because that’s not really Bruce Wayne in the suit anymore, but the replacement he got after Bane broke his back. That’s right: freakin’ Psi-Phon and Dreadnaught.

Superman gives a speech about how superheroes must work together to prevent another tragedy like Coast City from happening, but when Guy asks him if that means he’s going back to the Justice League, he’s like “uh, not yet.” Wisely, he’s gonna wait for Grant Morrison to get there first.

Hal Jordan’s characterization in this issue is interesting. In Green Lantern #47 (which came out the same month), he’s bummed about Coast City but still hopeful and serene, while here he’s already going Parallax on us. Wonder if Dan Jurgens knew more about what DC was planning for Hal than the other comic’s writer.

There’s a cute scene where Superman is flying by Kansas on his way to Coast City and quickly drops some flowers for Ma Kent. (That, or Flash picked this moment to hit on a random older woman.) 

Former TV exec/crime boss Morgan Edge has released an autobiography where he trashes the Daily Planet’s Cat Grant for using her sexiness (and, you know, sex) to get dirt on him and send him to jail. He also accuses Cat of being a crappy mother to her son Adam. He kind of has a point there, because what kind of mom would let her kid play with an Atari in the early ‘90s?! The SNES and the Genesis were already out!

Believe it or not, Morgan Edge’s pervy dad in that screenshot above isn’t the creepiest thing in that scene. Don: “Very spooky how the guy dangling outside of Cat’s apartment goes without mention. An ominous foreshadow of one of the very few missteps of Jurgens’ run.”

But the most ominous part of the issue is at the end, when Clark Kent accepts Jimmy Olsen’s offer to become roomies, since Clark lost his apartment on account of being dead and all. Don wants you to know that “Jimmy is still in that towel by the way” in the scene below. I hope.

Patreon-Watch:

Shout out to our patrons Aaron, Murray Qualie, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, and a warm welcome to Samuel Doran! Last month our patrons got to read an article about Superman’s bizarre first Elseworlds appearance ever, the Kamandi: At Earth’s End miniseries, and got a veeeeeery early look at this post you’re reading right now (since Don finished his part way before I did mine). Right now I’m preparing this month’s Patreon-only article, which involves Superman wearing pointy ears and Luthor wearing make up. Find out more at https://www.patreon.com/superman86to99

Oh, and in case you missed it, we’ve been posting Don’s new commentary for older issues on the Patreon as free posts (click above and scroll down to see them). EVEN MORE from Don after the jump!

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow​):

Another classic issue, and such a nice wrap-up to the "Death and Return" storyline (as well as being a much-needed check-In on the DC Universe at  large).  We start with the cover, and it’s a very good one, letting the  reader know right away that it’s a big team-up issue.  (It also is a real showcase for 90s costume design, and how weird the JLA lineup was at this point).

The opening splash is a neat image of a rarely seen pairing, Superman and Commissioner Gordon.   Jurgens draws James Gordon a little heavier and more Pa-Kent like than I’m used to seeing him, but it’s still neat to see him interacting with Superman. A page  later, we get another rare pairing—the returned Superman with the imposter Batman, Jean-Paul Valley.  The tension in the interaction between “AzBats” and Superman comes across well in their exchange, as does Superman’s doubts about who he was really speaking to.

It’s a dreamy looking Superman crossing the country from Metropolis to Coast City, and I daresay that they’re trying to channel Dean Cain a little as he approaches Kansas.

The best panel of the issue though is the two page spread  of all the heroes gathering at the wreckage of Coast City, and there’s so much to love here.  The body language, and facial  expressions speak volumes about each of the characters:  Superman looking swashbuckling and upbeat, Green Lantern brooding like a man barely holding on, Green Arrow all attitude and shadow.  Just a great spread.

Another cool image is Aquaman showing up late, and emerging very royally in protection of his ocean (undercut masterfully by a legitimately funny couple of lines from Guy Gardner).  Page 14’s Hal Jordan is a great drawing, and this whole storyline seems like a table setter for the "Emerald Twilight" story coming up.

The sequence of a firelit Luthor  at the computer is a good look at his madness, but it does beg the  question of just how little Supergirl seems to take in.  He was JUST talking aloud  about Kryptonite, and she emerges seeming not to hear.  The image of  Supergirl flying Lex away as he struggles against her psychic grab is a  good one, even if her uniform is depicted as a little clingier than I imagine it to really be.

Superman floating above his obelisk with his arm in front of  his face like Dracula is a cool look, even if it is a little dramatic.

Lastly, the image of Clark turning up the stereo is a good one, even if his hair length is wildly  shorter here than in Coast City (and I usually dislike it when they  mention real world bands, as it comes off trying too hard to be hip).

STRAY OBSERVATIONS:

I  have to love how meta it is to have Superman outright saying that Batman is dressing more “threatening” these days,  on page 2.  I guess he couldn’t come right out and say “you have an  extreme new look, and it’s totally badass! Batman the next generation!”

Last  we saw of Supergirl she was storming out of the party on Lex’s Zeppelin after Lex II was getting all horned up at  the sight of Lois Lane, but it appears here they’ve mostly patched  things up as they fly to Coast City.

More meta-stuff: Jimmy clunkily complimenting Lois on her new hair by saying she “oughta be on TV or something!”.   This whole exchange is very expository, really, “Clark must be pretty mad… though he’s busy worrying about where he’s going to bunk…”  Anything else to get in there, Jimmy?

The harshness some of the heroes have for Lex Junior seems a little out of place, especially since he’s still known to  most of the heroes as an ally from "Panic in the Sky", and the "Doomsday"  storyline.  Superman’s comment was borderline, but where is all this  anger Flash is showing coming from?

Being  as familiar as we are with these writers, there are certain phrases or ideas that a certain writer will go to way,  way too often.  Byrne had a number of stories where Superman would  “ionize” something with his heat vision, and it occurred to me that  maybe he just liked that word.  I would submit that Dan Jurgens likes the word “atomize”.  It was used by the Cyborg  Superman when talking about Doomsday, and is used a bunch just in this issue.

I find it hilarious that Hawkman appears so prominently in this issue, but doesn’t get any lines.  This issue is an  interesting time capsule—I had almost forgotten about the de-aged  Starheart powered Alan Scott era.

Speaking of lines, they don’t give Captain Marvel much to do in this issue, but I always like seeing him, even if his only contribution is the odd “Holy Moley!”

Colouring error on page 12, where Hal’s ring has a red centre (maybe the colourist had Alan Scott’s red and green look on the brain?)

A raging Hal standing by Green Arrow is a sad foreshadowing of their confrontation to come in Zero Hour.

[wishingicouldbethereforya]

Harry Styles boxing >>>>>>>

Me too, me tooooooo 🥵

Harry boxing>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

[themuseandantarctica]

lyrics from modest mouse’s album good news for people who love bad news BOLD all that apply to your muse (repost, don’t reblog.)

THE WORLD AT LARGE.  ice age heat wave, can’t complain / if the world’s at large, why should i remain? / walked away to another plan / gonna find a new place, maybe one i can stand / i move on to another day / to a whole new town with a whole new way / went to the porch to have a thought / got to the door, and again, i couldn’t stop / you don’t know where and you don’t know when / but you’ve still got your words / and you’ve got your friends / walk along to another day / work a little harder, work another way / well, uh-huh, baby, i ain’t got no plan / gonna float on maybe, would you understand? / the days get shorter and the nights get cold / i like the autumn but this place is getting old / i pack my belongings and i head to the coast / it might not be a lot, but i feel like i’m making the most / the nights get longer and the days smell green / i guess it’s not surprising but it’s spring and i should leave / i like songs about drifters, books about the same, they both make me feel a little less insane / walked on off to another spot / i still haven’t gotten anywhere that i want / did i want love? / did i need to know? / why does it always feel like i’m caught in an undertow? / the moths beat themselves to death against the lights, adding their breeze to the summer nights / outside, water, like air, was gray / i didn’t know what i had that day / walked a little farther to another plan / you said that you did, but you didn’t understand / i know that starting over’s not what life’s about / but my thoughts were so loud i couldn’t hear my mouth

FLOAT ON.  i backed my car into a cop car the other day / well, he just drove off, sometimes life’s okay / i ran my mouth off a bit too much, oh, what did i say? / well, you just laughed it off, it was all okay / we’ll all float on anyway / a fake jamaican took every last dime with that scam / it was worth it just to learn some sleight of hand / bad news comes, don’t you worry even when it lands / good news will work its way to all them plans / we both got fired on exactly the same day / well, we’ll float on, good news is on the way / bring it on, here we are, win or lose / even if things get heavy, we’ll all float on

OCEAN BREATHES SALTY.  your body may be gone / i’m gonna carry you in my head, in my heart, in my soul / and maybe we’ll get lucky and we’ll both live again / well, i don’t know, don’t think so / well, that is that and this is this / you tell me what you want and i’ll tell you what you get / you get away from me / collect my belongings and i left the jail / well, thanks for the time, i needed to think a spell / the ocean breathes salty / won’t you carry it in your head, in your heart, in your soul? / well, maybe we’ll get lucky and we’ll both grow old / well, i don’t know, i hope so / will you tell me what you saw? / i’ll tell you what you missed / when the ocean met the sky / you missed when time and life shook hands and said goodbye / when the earth folded in on itself and said “good luck” / for your sake, i hope heaven and hell are really there, but i wouldn’t hold my breath / you wasted life, why wouldn’t you waste death? / the more we move ahead, the more we’re stuck on rewind / well, i don’t mind, how the hell could i mind?

BURY ME WITH IT.  we were shooting at a mountain of dirt / well, nothing was broken, nothing was hurt / but i probably really should have been at work / but if my free time’s gone, would you promise me this? / please bury me with it / well, as sure as planets come, i know that they end / and if i’m here when that happens, you promise me this, my friend / i don’t need none of that mad max bullshit / well, the suit got tight and it split at the seams / but i kept it out of habit and i kept it real clean / it’s getting faded and it’s running out of thread / we moved to the left and we moved to the right / and sure as hell we stayed out almost every single night / if the party’s over, if the fun has to end / good news for people who love bad news / we’ve lost the plot and we just can’t choose / we are hummingbirds who are just not willing to move / we were aiming for the moon, we were shooting at the stars / but the kids were just shooting at the busses and the cars / so don’t drink the water, don’t you breathe the air / and if it’s gotten to that point, then i have to declare / well, fads they come and fads they go / and god, i love that rock ‘n’ roll / well, the point was fast but it was too blunt to miss / life handed us a paycheck / we said, “we worked harder than this!”

DANCE HALL.  i’m gonna dance all, dance hall every day / well, i’m giving myself another one / i have too much to say / i’m gonna angle for telepathy ‘cause i don’t know the words to say / well, i’m gonna act up but not in your fucking play / i’ll let you win the argument if things still go my way / well, i haven’t had enough and i said “i’ve had my fill” / the past doesn’t exist and i’m told it never will / i guess i’m stuck here like a plant on a windowsill / i gonna give myself a shot, i could get myself a pill / i’m gonna go and try to buy a little more time to kill / i need a can opener ‘cause i got some beans to spill / i’m gonna tell you what you want to hear anyways / well, somehow or another, i fell for every scam / but i was dancing on the tin roof, cat be damned / committing crimes, running down the alley / i’m the captain and you are in the galley

BUKOWSKI.  every night gets a little more bukowski / and yeah, i know he’s a pretty good read / but god, who’d wanna be such an asshole? / we sat on the edge of the river / the crowd screamed, “sacrifice the liver!” / if god takes life, he’s an indian giver / so tell me why, you’ll tell me never / who would wanna be such a control freak? / see what you wanna see / you should see it all / take what you want from me / you deserve it all / nine times out of ten, our hearts just get dissolved / i want a better place / or just a better way to fall / but one time out of ten, everything goes perfect for us all / if god controls the land and disease / and keeps a watchful eye on me / if he’s really so damn mighty / my problem is i can’t see who would wanna be such a control freak / evil home stereo, what good songs do you know? / evil me, oh yeah, i know, what good curves can you throw? / all that icing and all that cake / i can’t make it to your wedding / but i’m sure i’ll be at your wake / you were talking in circles that day / when you get to the point, make sure that i am still awake, okay?

THIS DEVIL'S WORKDAY.  all those people that you know floating in the river are logs / i could buy myself a reason / i could sell myself a job / i could hang myself on treason / all the folks i know are gone / so i ate the wedding cake 'til the whole damn thing was gone / and i'm gonna drown the ocean / now ain't none of that so wrong? / all those people that you know floating in the river are gone / gonna take this sack of puppies, gonna set it out to freeze / gonna climb around on all fours 'til all the blood falls out my knees / let's take this potted plant to the woods and set it free / i'm gonna tell the owners just how nice that was of me / oh, i am my own damn god

THE VIEW.  your gun went off / you shot off your mouth and look where it got you / my mouth runs off too / shouts from both sides / we've got the land / but they've got the view / well, now, here's the clue / life, it rents us / and yeah, i hope it put plenty on you / i hope mine did too / as life gets longer, awful feels softer / it feels pretty soft to me / and if it takes shit to make bliss / i feel pretty blissfully / we are fixed right where we stand / for every invention, how much time did we save? / we're not much farther than we were in the cave / if life's not beautiful without the pain / i'd rather never ever even see beauty again / for every good deed done, there is a crime committed / for every step ahead, we could have just been seated

SATIN IN A COFFIN.  you were laying on the carpet / like you're satin in a coffin / you said, "do you believe what you're saying?" / yeah, right now, but not that often / are you dead or are you sleeping? / god, i sure hope you are dead / you disappeared so often / like you dissolved into coffee / are you here right now? / or are there probably fossils under your meat? / now the blow's been softened since the air we breathe's our coffin / now the blow's been softened since the ocean is our coffin / often times you know our laughter is your coffin ever after / you know the blow's been softened since the world is our coffin / now the blow's been softened since we are our own damn coffins / everybody's talking about their short lists / everybody's talking about death

BLAME IT ON THE TETONS.  god, i need a scapegoat now / no, my dog won't bite you / though it had the right to / you oughta give her credit / 'cause she knows i would've let it happen / blame it on the weekends / god, i need a cola now / we mumble loudly / wear our shame so proudly / wore our blank expressions / trying to look interesting / blame it all on me / god, i need a cold one now / all them eager actors gladly take the credit / for lines created by people tucked away from sight / just a window from the room we're bound to / if you find a way out, would you just let me know how? / blame it on the web / but the spider’s your problem now / language is the liquid that we’re all dissolved in / great for solving problems / after it creates a problem / everyone’s a building burning / with no one to put the fire out / standing at the window looking out / waiting for time to burn us down / everyone’s an ocean drowning / with no one really to show how / they might get a little better air / if they turned themselves into a cloud

BLACK CADILLACS.  and it’s true we named our children after towns that we’d never been to / and it’s true that the clouds just hung around like black cadillacs outside a funeral / we were done with all the fucking around / you were so true to yourself / you were true to no one else / i should put you in the ground / i’ve got the time, i’ve got the hours, i’ve got the days, i’ve got the weeks / i’ve got the words but i can’t speak / i was done with all the circling ‘round / i didn’t die and i ain’t complaining / i ain’t blaming you / i didn’t know that the words you said to me meant more to me than they ever could you / i didn’t lie but i ain’t saying i told the whole truth / i didn’t know that this game we were playing even had a set of rules / we were laughing at the stars while our feet clung tight to the ground / so pleased with ourselves for using so many verbs and nouns / but we are still just dumber than the dirt on the ground / wings on flames, kings with no names / this place just ain’t got right air right now / you were so all over town / but still so crayola brown / you should run ‘round yourself right now

ONE CHANCE.  we have one chance to get everything right / and if we’re lucky, we might / my friends, my habits, my family, they mean so much to me / i just don’t think that it’s right / i’ve seen so many ships sail in / just go head back out again and go off sinking / i’m just a box in a cage / didn’t mean to laugh, didn’t know i had / didn’t know the better part of what you said / ‘cause in your head, you are not home / didn’t get the joke, didn’t mean to poke another / just to save myself from something or another / walk home

THE GOOD TIMES ARE KILLING ME.  who needs the good times? / the good times are killing me / got dirt, got air, got water / and i know you can carry on / shrugged off shortsighted false excitement / what can i say? / have one, have twenty-one “one mores” / it does not relent / kick butt, buzz cut dickheads who don’t like what i said / jaws clenched tight / we talked all night / but what the hell did we say? / fed up with all that LSD / need more sleep than coke or methamphetamines / late nights with warm, warm whiskey / enough hair of the dog to make myself an entire rug / shit-kicker city slickers who all want me dead / get sucked in and stuck in late nights / with more folks that i don’t know

[aylwyyn228]

I’ve been writing an outsider POV of early years Van der Linde gang, and I’m not sure whether to continue it. I don’t often write OCs so I’m not sure if it’s any good. 

I thought I’d post the beginning and see what anyone thinks, so feedback is greatly appreciated. 

~~~

Soloman rubbed his hands over his face, and left them there, pressing until his eyes shot with bursts of colour. He longed, with every aching heavy limb, to be home. 

He dropped his hands and looked across at the kid in the cell. In his goddamn cell. The kid, for whom neither he nor the marshal had managed to get a name, was pressed as far back against the wall as he could get, knees tucked up to his chin and his face buried in his arms. 

Soloman would guess he was no more than eighteen, maybe? He was gangly and tall, taller than Soloman was, though he could admit that was hardly a feat. He’d got a glimpse of the kid’s face when the marshal had dragged him in by the elbow. 

Kid looked scared to goddamn death, and he oughta be. Le Maitre was out for blood. God only knew what this Van der Linde had done to get his blood up, but for all he pitched himself as a Louisiana gentleman, Soloman wouldn’t want to be staring down Hanson Le Maitre’s gun. 

Soloman didn’t know a lot of what Le Maitre’s war record looked like, but he’d ridden back down from Virginia with his name on the Roll of Honor, and enough high society friends to promote him up to marshal. 

Soloman watched the kid for another second, thinking about goin’ to try his luck with their other prisoner. 

Le Maitre had forbidden him to talk to the fella, which had got his back right up, because Le Maitre might be old blood New Orleans, and a marshal to boot, but Soloman was goddamn sheriff here. 

And he’d earned it off his own back, too. 

That goddamn bastard talked to him like he was some backwater hick. But it wasn’t him who’d had to chase a couple of two-bit outlaws across three state lines after they kept giving him the slip. 

The other fella had been goin’ by Tristan Brodie since he rode into town four days ago, but was apparently Matthew somethin’, if Le Maitre was to be believed. Hell, Soloman didn’t know. Wasn’t as if Le Maitre had bothered to fill him in on the finer points of this plan of his. 

Anyway, Brodie was bleedin’ like hell when the marshal had dragged him through Soloman’s door, so he was gonna have to at least check to see the man wasn’t dead in his cell. 

No doubt Le Maitre would blame him for that too. 

Soloman was just about to push himself to his feet, when he saw the kid across from him give a full body shiver. It was enough to send a pang of guilt shooting through Soloman. Kid was too young to be here. Too young to be all hunched over himself in some goddamn jail cell. 

His own son was nearing his twelfth year now, and the thought of his boy, his little boy, huddled up waitin’ on the noose in only a few years… It wasn’t right, and Soloman didn’t give a shit what the law said. 

“Kid,” Soloman called, without even really thinkin’ about what he was plannin’ on sayin’. 

The kid looked up, and for the first time Soloman got a real look at him. 

Kid was young. Probably more like sixteen. All blond hair and frightened eyes. Hell, he didn’t even look old enough to shave. 

Soloman’s heart ached a little at how someone so young could’ve ended up in that life. 

When he was that age, he was still takin’ his sister down to the lake to teach her how to catch frogs. His father would’ve pitched a fit if he’d so much as lifted candy from the store. Lord, but this country was goin’ to hell. 

But for all of that, this kid didn’t look like the usual orphan strays he picked up. 

He was clean, for one thing, and while his clothes might be rumpled from the struggle, they were fairly well made and repaired. His nose was crooked like it’d broken and healed up off-centre, but other than that, he wasn’t bruised up or bloody. There wasn’t any indication that he was livin’ particularly rough. 

He wasn’t half starved neither. For all he had that lean look all youths had, a couple more years of whatever heavy work he was doin’ would fill him out to match his height. 

Whatever those gunslingers he was running with wanted him for, he was clearly doin’ alright out of the arrangement. 

The kid was still watching him, something wary in his eyes. 

“You want anythin’ to eat, kid?” Soloman asked, remembering the hunk of buttered bread Jeanette had wrapped up for him that morning. He usually kept a little something left over from his meal to tide him over until he made it home around sundown, but if the way his gut had started bulgin’ over the top of his pants was any indication, he could forego it just this once.

Soloman fished the bread out of the drawer in his desk, and held it up. The kid didn’t move. 

They just looked at each other for a second, and then Soloman pushed himself to his feet. If the kid didn’t want to come too close up to him, then Soloman wasn’t gonna force him. He pushed the package through the bars, and gave it a shove closer to the centre of the cell. 

“I’ll just leave it there for if you want it.” 

After a second, the kid leaned just enough to snatch it up. He peered underneath the paper suspiciously, and Soloman guessed that was fair. From what Soloman could see, the law hadn’t exactly done a lot for this kid. 

Apparently satisfied with what he found, the kid shot him a tight smile. One that made Soloman’s gut churn uncomfortably again. 

“Is Hosea alright?” 

Soloman really didn’t expect the kid to speak, so it took him a second to work through his surprise. He frowned. “Hosea? Is that the other fella we brought in?” 

The kid nodded, earnestly.

Soloman laughed. “You boys sure do have a lot of names. You got one of your own?” 

The kid narrowed his eyes with that suspicious look again. “Arthur.” 

“Pleased to meet ya, Arthur. I was just gonna go check on your friend.” 

Arthur just looked at him. 

“Is he your friend?” Soloman prompted, and got nothing in response. He settled back more comfortably on his heels. “Because if he’s not, you can tell me. I don’t blame you for fallin’ in with him. Whole damn town was talkin’ about what a way with words he’s got, and you just a kid ‘n’ all…” 

The kid was lookin’ down again. Fingers working reflexively over the brown paper in his hands. 

“He tell you not to talk to me?” Soloman shifted his weight as his right hip started to complain. “What’d he offer you, kid? Or did he threaten you? Either way, it ain’t worth hangin’ for, I promise you that.” 

Arthur went still. 

“Because the marshal will hang you, kid. He wants to make an example outta you. And your friends. But if you talk to me, I’ll get you outta it, I swear. Ain’t worth swingin’ for a couple o’ no good murderin’ bastards. And I won’t let ‘em hurt you for it. They won’t be able to come after you. On my life.” 

That got the kid to look up, finally, but something had closed off in his eyes, and Soloman realised abruptly that he’d made a mistake. Said altogether the wrong thing. 

“You don’t know nothing,” the kid said. 

And it wasn’t defensive. There was no fire in the kid’s voice. It was a statement of fact. Simple and true. 

Soloman found himself just nodding. 

He sighed, and nodded again. He’d fucked this up, and now the kid was gonna swing. 

Fuck.

He gestured to the package. “Why don’t you eat that, while I go check on your friend?” 

He didn’t wait to see if the kid did as he said. 

He couldn’t just stand up out of the crouch the way he’d used to, had to use a hand to brace himself, and again he thought that it perhaps wasn’t a bad thing that he’d given away the bread. 

As he got himself up, and turned for the back door, he heard the kid clear his throat. “Mister? Don’t let Hosea die.” 

Soloman’s gut twisted uncomfortably again. This kid was too young to be here. Not countin’ the fact that none of these fellas had committed a crime in this county as far as he could see. Not yet at least.

“Nobody dies in my cells, kid.” 

His predecessor had had a reputation for that, and for the condemned turning up bloodied for the rope. Soloman had found out why when a couple of brothers had turned up offering a dollar for an hour in the cell with the fella that’d robbed their father blind. 

And it didn’t sit right with Soloman. For all that some bastards deserved what they got as far as he was concerned, punishment was for the hangman, and judgement was for God, and he preferred to be sure of a man’s guilt before he sent him to either.

[saintlexii]

A/N: More Saints Row 1 NPC quotes for y'all because I got board. (Quotes come from my 3 different saved games at 8%, 49%, and 77% completion)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

- Watch your back, man, I hear Hughes is taking names.

- Maybe my girl would respect me more if I hung out with you.

- I'm buyin' a bunch of purple clothes today, isn't that cool?

- If I don't kill someone soon I'm gonna forget how.

- If my man is asleep when I come home I'm throwing his ass out.

- They don't teach you how to change clothes in the Row?

- Who sold out your boss?

- I didn't wanna be in that stupid sorority anyway.

- Third Street's outta the ghetto now.

- You got us to the top, I hope you keep us there.

- I give the best damn blowjob in Stilwater.

- Remember where you came up from, man.

- There's no way I coulda done what you did.

- Maybe now there'll be some order.

- The Lopez family's gone? I don't believe it.

- So, how does it feel to be the voice of Julius?

- With you callin' the shots, no one can touch us.

- There ain't a man working the docks that hasn't heard of you.

- This whole town's afraid of us.

- The way I hear it, you're lookin' to take the whole damn city.

- You make sure Julius finishes what he started.

- Is Julius gonna stick around this time?

- If you ever wanna start some shit, let me know.

- I think my philosophy professor was hitting on me.

- Don't tell anyone, but I think you might be harder than Johnny.

- Julius better watch himself, King ain't gonna play nice this time.

- Do you like older women?

- I should hookup with a gang, that'll get me some chicks.

- Julius ever mention me?

- Looks like the Saints weren't pussies like everyone said.

- How's Lin doin'? I ain't seen her in a while.

- I wouldn't wanna be in your way.

- The Saints have earned some respect, but that don't mean people are gonna roll over.

- My son was talking about you last night.

- I don't care what people say, you gangsters have pizazz.

- Shit, man, they owe you money or somethin'?

- I don't know of it's just me, but Troy's been acting nervous.

- How come you always doing everything around here?

- All you do is ruin people's lives.

- Laura sure is making a lot of friends at the PTA, I wonder what her secret is.

- I oughta invest in a bigger flask.

- I wonder where I can meet some Asian chicks.

- If I see that ho come by my place one more time I'm gonna slap the black off of her.

- Fuck no, I ain't shaving my shit, that's just nasty.

- How am I supposed to take care of my kids when the government keeps fucking with me?

- It's not cheating if you call me your wife's name.

- I wish Friendly Fire took food stamps.

- What's Tanya got that I don't?

- If I suck one more dick tonight I'll make the rent.

- Next time she asks, I'm gonna say "yes, you do look fat in that dress".

- Shit, you must've killed half the people in this city.

- Wanna catch dinner and a drug deal?

- Damn you look fine.

- Goddamn, I want some cookies.

- I haven't seen Johnny in a while, I hope he's okay.

- Minimum wage my ass, I can't even afford a lighter.

- I'm getting sick of Troy acting like he's better than everyone.

- I gotta stop getting high and talking to myself on the street.

- Hey, you're the guy that finally put down Victor.

- Don't worry, they say jail isnt too bad here.

- Why's Troy always gotta stick his nose in my business?

- I don't give a fuck what she days, he's my man.

- I'd be all over that ass if she put a bag over her head.

- I've gotta see a doctor, Mister Whiskers just smells awful lately.

- I can't believe my dad gave me shit for dating a black guy.

- Be careful, I used to be important, look at me now.

- How did you kill Victor?

- I was there when they found Lin's body.

- I may be poor, but I ain't ever whoring myself out.

- If it ain't the big man himself.

- You're gonna be running this gang pretty soon.

- How come I never see you hitting the bars?

- Next time you roll over on some motherfuckers take me along.

- Make sure Julius knows what's up over here.

- Ah man, I'm from the suburbs, I don't know how to deal with gangs.

- What's this bullshit about Dex being a lieutenant?

- When I finally move outta here I ain't ever looking back.

- You been telling Julius about all the good shit I do, right?

- Vote Winslow, Hughes kicks puppies!

- Is it true you cut some guys dick off for lookin' at your girl?

- We ain't a bunch of bursters no more thanks to you.

- Aisha's just using Johnny.

- So, are you one of those street racers?

- From all the stories I heard I thought you'd be taller.

- You single?

- Unless you wanna end up in jail you better slow down.

- I'm meeting some friends downtown tonight, wanna come?

- I hear you're a good guy to know.

- You better be careful, Stilwater can be a nasty place.

- If I max out another card I'll never hear the end of it.

- You've become quite the local figure.

- You belong in jail!

- I can't wait to cheat on my online girlfriend, that girl has it coming.

- Julius ain't nothing but a washed up banger past his prime.

- You're as hard as Julius said you were.

- I hope the next dead body I see on the street is you!

- Between Gat and that mute motherfucker, we got nothing to worry about.

- I'm gonna kill my parents for naming me River.

- I wonder if the secretary is wearing tose panties I like.

- I heard Julius talking about promoting you.

[pandawritesmanythings]

I Was Like You Once

Summary: Isabella wakes up captive and tries to strike a conversation with her captor.

Warnings: Kidnapping situation, alluded violence, allegations of murder.

Original Characters: Isabella O’Connor, Doyle O’Connor, Carrie.

A/N: I wanna make a comic for Carrie’s story, but since I need a creative outlet I will just write until I actually have the determination to do it! :’D

Word Count: 1.3k

The curtains were closed. The sounds muffled. Isabella knew there was a conflict going on outside but she couldn't distinguish who was winning or losing. Or even if there was any actual fighting going on.

But knowing The Nightmares she wouldn't be surprised if they had killed somebody.

Isabella dragged herself through her glass cage to get closer to the woman peeking through the curtains at the conflict outside.

"You won't get away with this..." She struggled as she got to her feet. The girl peeking outside didn't move or turn to look at her.

"Did you hear me? You won't-!"

"I heard you." She interrupted the trapped woman as she closed the curtain and walked towards the desk. 

Candlelight made the room have an orange undertone. It felt eerie. An unspoken, but knowable tension in the air.

"Then why won't you talk to me?"

The brown eyes of her captor met her tired grey ones. "Because I have nothing to say, Isabella. It is that simple."

The girl turned around and with a quill and paper began writing something down. "Then... At least tell me why are you doing this?" Isabella scrambled for what she could get. Doyle would soon be in the building. She just had to buy him some time.

Without looking up, the girl smirked and kept on writing. "Oh, you know well why."

"And you know that I don't." She tried to convince her of the truth. "When I was admitted onto the Capitol you had been a Nightmare for a couple of years. I never even dared to ask what had happened to you."

"Too much of a coward?"

"One is never too careful when it comes to Nightmares."

The girl finally finished writing. She gave the whole thing one last look before snapping her fingers to make a small purple flame appear. Then, she placed the paper over the flame and allowed it to burn up.

"Wasting our paper is fun to you?"

"Oh, not at all." She mocked, "Paper is a valuable resource, we should all use it responsibly." And then she got up from the chair and unscrolled a map over the table.

"Then why burn it?"

The girl scoffed out a laugh and started writing something else down in a small notebook while looking at the map. "You Dreamers are so gullible and naive..." She muttered under her breath. "I have no idea how I survived twenty-one years under your tutelage."

The girl finally looked in the eyes of the captive woman and smirked. "Is it possible you don't know about the fastest way of communication? Besides cellphones from The Other Side. Those will be their doom if they're not careful enough."

"Enlighten me." Isabella defied.

The brunette with blonde dyed ends stared and the strawberry blonde woman. "Whenever you become a Pyrovestìra, I will." She said with an air of finality.

The sounds outside grew louder. And Isabella became more and more fidgety. Doyle should be here. Where was he?

"He is not coming. At least not in the way you think he is." The girl at the desk spoke up.

"What, can you read my thoughts now, witch?" Isabella snapped at her. "I recognize the look in your eyes because I looked like that about 30 years ago."

Isabella slid to sit down and the girl stood up and approached her.

"He doesn't deserve your trust. I know you and your daughter are not to blame for any of this, so you don't have to worry about the two of you. I know I'll probably pay for this, but I'll let you both free."

"But you're going to kill him."

"Oh, of course, I won't. You Dreamers are so easily influenced by humans that you forget the rules of your own world." The girl scoffed, insulted. "I'll keep him with his men in the dungeon and let the people decide their fate. If it means rotting in jail forever it will be so. If it means sending them to another dimension where they can and probably will, actually die. Then sure."

She was so nonchalant about it.

"You make me sick. Playing with the life of others as if you were a god."

The brown-eyed girl seemed surprised for the first time. A smile of disbelief etched onto her lips. "Me? Playing with the life of others?"

The girls sat down right next to Isabella, and despite there being a three-inch-thick glass, the older woman scooted away from the girl.

"I can't believe even after all this time, you still believe all of their lies..." She looked actually amazed. "Darling we are both in our fifties. We don't have to keep lying to ourselves. This system has ruined so many lives. You just have to... Take your veil off to see it."

"Look, I don't think I want to talk anymore." Isabella looked away. “Oh but now I am, oh so interested in talking to you." The girl smiled. "The most beautiful women in the Capitol. The wife of Doyle O'Connor. Mother of Leslie O'Connor whose weakening disease has her laying in bed since she was 7." 

"Please. Stop."

"The coveted price. The perfect little trophy wife. The step-up after that other girl went and got her human killed."

Isabella turned to look at the girl. She didn't know that.

"What? Surprised?"

"I thought... I was told it had been an accident."

"Oh, it was." The girl continued. "But in the council's eyed I was the one responsible as to why she ended up in that situation."

"Is that why you're doing this?"

After a couple of seconds of staring in the distance, the girl denied with a shake of her head. Slightly defeated. "No. Although I can't deny that is was the starting point. But after thirty years you learn to keep going and focus on other important matters."

"Then, why?"

She stared off at the distance. Isabella suddenly took notice of the details of the girl in front of her. 

It was true. She had never seen a Nightmare so up close. She looked just like a dreamer. Fair skin. Slight blush on her cheeks. Slim body hugged by a knee-length black dress.

She looked like any other young adult. In fact, if she didn't know she was actually fifty she wouldn't have guessed she was a day over 25. But that was the power the council had. Wasn't it?

Finally, the girl answered. "I just don't want it to happen again." She looked into Isabella's eyes, truthful. "Those of us who are already broken can live with it. But as long as we can avoid an innocent life getting skewered like this. Then we can live in peace."

Suddenly, the door to the studio burst open, and a redhead stumbled onto the room.

Isabella jumped at the sight. "DOYLE!"

The girl turned, uninterested towards the fallen man on the floor. "Ah. Prince charming arrives." She gets up and dusts her black dress. "Real cute."

"You..." He growls.

"Ah ah ah." She taunts. "You have no right to speak. You will answer the questions you are asked."

"Let go of my wife and daughter!"

"Oh, please. They're fine!" She rolls her eyes while taking a seat on the swivel chair in front of the desk. "You can see Bella right there, and Leslie is in the room over there sleeping."

"You won't get away with this!"

The girl scoffs. "Why do you guys keep saying that? I don't get it."

"Because you are a monster and we will stop you and this nonsense rebellion!" He shouted struggling to get up on his feet. "You don't even have guards here. I can easily take you on myself."

Isabella gasped as she saw the glimmer of the dagger in Doyle's hand. "Darling... Where...W-Where did you get that?"

"Oh, I tremble with fear!" The girl feigned collapsing over the chair with an exaggerated English accent.

"You will," Doyle said as he approached her at a steady menacing pace.

The girl just smirked looking at her ex-fiance. "Oh, this oughta be good.”

The spark of purple flames was on her hand.

... And then chaos ensued.

[the-wonder-duo]

Random Ass Update #3

This one is dedicated to all you shits that can’t read. 

A tsunami rocked the West coast. In light of the ongoing investigation into InvisaInk’s death, we decided that it’d be best if Deku went alone to aid with recovery efforts. 

Thousands died. Recovery efforts are still ongoing.

 If you’ve got the means, you oughta donate to the Japan Relief and Recovery Fund. 

I stayed in the East. 

Answered some shit questions between patrols. Told you fucks about Deku’s questionable taste in music. 

PSA: I’m better than Deku at everything. 

Deku kept in touch while he was in the Nagano through audio logs and holocalls. 

There were sightings of someone that might’ve looked like me. At the time, I dismissed it as bullshit. 

Explosions rocked the streets of Hosu. The cause was not determined. 

Get your conspiracy theory asses off my blog. 

I was arrested after an attack in Hosu; Okane Trust & Banking Company had been robbed in an explosive attack. 

The Hero Police Force  released a statement revealed that on-site video surveillance captured footage of me at the scene, though the security system experienced technical difficulties only moments later. 

Sweat and hair analysis also placed me at the scene. 

Deku came back— even though I told him to stay in the East. Even though he was supposed to stick to the West to help tsunami victims. 

There were protests. I guess some of you lot aren’t complete dickheads, after all. 

Thanks. 

I was drugged with Quirk suppressants. Standard procedure for those that’re being detained. 

My body didn’t react that well to ‘em. 

Footage of the bank robbery was leaked.

Deku compiled evidence to prove that I was innocent. 

When presenting his argument to the detectives who were in charge of the investigation, Deku was dismissed without any consideration. 

Asshole discovered that I was gonna be transferred to a maximum security prison even though I hadn’t even been arrested in any official capacity. Hadn’t even been charged of any crimes. 

Idiot broke me out of jail. 

Words don’t even begin to express what I felt. 

That idiot has so much going for him, you know? Wouldn’t have partnered up with him if he weren’t a damn good hero. He lives to help others. Dunno if he could live without it. 

And that could’ve been the end of it. Right there. 

He would’ve given it up. Thrown it all away. 

For me. 

You’re an idiot, Deku. 

We were pursued by Pros and police, but we managed to make it to the sewers. Since we’d spent weeks combing through them, we knew them pretty well. 

Took refuge in an undocumented Quirk shelter. 

Deku’d scheduled a leak of information to be posted onto the blog before he’d left. To tell everyone that he could of what had really happened, and to show why I wasn’t guilty of the crimes that I’d been accused of. 

Here’s the gist of what he wrote: 

I’m sure that the people who were responsible for kidnapping Kacchan are those who are responsible for InvisaInk, and do not say that without backing. The proof is in the visual evidence that has already been uploaded online by multiple sources; I suspect that the footage that was sent to me last night will be uploaded before long, as well. 

Most would say that those leaked stills that show an apparent Kacchan robbing a bank appear to be wrong, somehow. And those conclusions would be correct. 

There’s the obvious— the haircut, for one, which doesn’t at all match was Kacchan is currently sporting —but then there’s the more subtle (for those who don’t know Kacchan as well as I do, anyways). 

The imposter in the video is a mirror image of the actual Bakugou Katsuki.

 Upon reviewing some of the footage taken by crowd’s phones that day in the park— the day the fake InvisaInk confronted the both of us—I can see now that that InvisaInk was a mirror image of the actual InvisaInk, as well; for those that want obvious proof, I suggest slowing the video down to a fourth of it’s usual speed and pausing as InvisaInk lifts his gun to Kacchan’s head— you can see the visible outline of InvisaInk’s tattoo as his shirt sleeves rides up— on his left arm. 

The actual InvisaInk’s tattoo was located on his right arm. 

A closer examination of each of their features has further proved that this person is, in fact, able to create mirror images of their target— given what they’ve known to have taken from both Kacchan and InvisaInk, I can only infer that they use bone marrow to supply this transformation with the aid of their Quirk. 

This also shows why the YouTube video uploaded of the fake InvisaInk’s spiel had actually seemed to be right for both Kacchan and I— before the video had been uploaded, the murderers had actually edited and flipped the footage, so that the person being displayed was on the correct side again.

 And yes, I did say murderers— because I believe this to be the work of not just one person, but at least two. Further inspection of the sight of the bank blast and an analysis of the explosion has proven that yes, while Kacchan’s actual sweat had ignited the ensuring explosion, it had blown the wall upon from inside the bank— he hadn’t entered from the outside, as witnesses and the footage depict of the alleged “Ground Zero.” 

I have come to the conclusion that the second accomplice is one that harvests body parts in order to gain use of that target’s Quirk; for InvisaInk, the murderers harvested his skin, and for Kacchan— his hands. 

The same hands that were taken from him months ago. During his kidnapping— which had been so similar to that of InvisaInk’s. 

Chillingly, a closer look at footage captured at the Charity Smash event depicts a person that looks eerily similar to InvisaInk— with the exception of his height, his hair, and his features. In fact, his skin seems to be the only startling match— a comparison shows that the freckles on this man’s face exactly match those of InvisaInk’s. 

‘Course it wasn’t me. 

I’d never pull a stunt like that. 

I’m a goddamn hero. 

Anyways, some numbskull who’d just been released from their own interrogation actually managed to snap a pic of Deku breaking me out of there. 

Didn’t cower in the sewers, though. 

We found the fuckers that were responsible for what had happened. 

Had some help from another Pro Hero, Earphone Jack. 

Deku kept more of a level head than I did, admittedly. 

I dunno. I guess it was harder than I ever would’ve imagined it’d be. Keeping my cool. When the sick bastards that skinned InvisaInk alive were right in front of me. 

Chased ‘em to a crowded street, police got involved, caught the murderers, and gave ourselves up.

Seems like they might’ve been two of Backlash’s lackeys, but in all goddamn honesty, they seem like a pair of those Anti-Quirk Liberation League nutjob extremists. ‘Least, they seem that way to me. 

Toga Akane was one of ‘em. Sister of Toga Himiko, who gained some fame from working as member of the League of Villains some years back. 

She’s in possession of a Quirk that allows her to become a mirror image of anyone who’s bone marrow she consumes. 

Claims she hates her sister. That people like her are the scum of the Earth. That people like herself are scum of the Earth. That people like them ought not to exist, and that their actions— and more importantly, their Quirks —are proof of that. 

Says that she did it for the greater good. Part of a way of showing once and for all that Quirks ought to be eliminated— part of a way to show us all how they ruin lives. 

The Anti-Quirk Liberation League won’t claim her. Say that they don’t associate themselves with common criminals, and that they’re horrified and repulsed by her actions. 

Last I heard, she’s attempted suicide at least twice since the beginning of her imprisonment.

The other murderer was Hada Dorobō. Possessed an undocumented Quirk that snatches the abilities of other Quirks through imbibing body parts conducive to the utilization of other Quirks. 

Appears that the sick bastard can only snatch one Quirk at a time; if he tries to take on another, the body part that he stole rots off of him. 

Deku and I were released after Lead Detective Naomasa discovered that the secretary to the Senior Commissioner had been, essentially, brainwashing most of the force via email. Had a Quirk that affected perception through written word. 

It’s been confirmed that the Senior Commissioner was bribed to ignore these criminal acts, and both of ‘em have been arrested. S’why the force had been acting so unreliably recently.

 Originally, we were given a week of house arrest and ‘till the first of June of suspension, but that was changed to house arrest ‘till the first a few days ago. 

After the first, we’ll be allowed to work as Pro Heroes again. 

So we’ve been sitting around the house ‘till then. 

Answered some more questions. 

Deku revealed that he’s come across a Quirk that allowed the wielder’s dick to function like a compass. Pointed towards what the user really wanted, apparently. 

I think that Deku’s a gullible dumbass and that it was just a boner. 

Deku doesn’t wanna be the number one hero anymore. 

He wants to be the best hero. 

A great hero. 

Fuck you, Deku. 

There’s been some fallout. Apparently you can’t just break outta jail and expect to be considered a shining example of heroism by everyone. 

Who would’ve imagined that. 

I don’t give a damn what you have to say about it. Yeah, breaking me out was a stupid move, and yeah, it could’ve been so much worse, but you know what? Deku’s still a hero in my eyes. 

In case you’ve lived under a rock for the past decade, you ought to know that the leader of the League of Villains is dead. 

My biggest rival made a comeback.

Played some games. 

One of ‘em was perverted as hell. Our publicist is a real piece of work, putting that crap together. 

Truth or Dare ended with a naked Deku in my bed. 

Deku worried too damn much about it. 

It’s fine. Fucking weird, and awkward, and yeah, I was pissed that he pulled something like that just ‘cause he thought he could get some info that I wouldn’t hand over to him on a silver platter, but the fuck got too caught up in that. 

Culminated in Deku putting himself into a slump. 

Asshole told me that it’d be best if we didn’t share a bed for now. 

Informed him of how goddamn stupid he is. 

And then I told him to come to bed. 

For better or for worse, we’re a team. 

Shitnerd’s just gonna have to accept it. 

We’re not fucking. 

And we’re more than ready to go back to work already. 

[tystreasuretrove]

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Starlight Crusaders - Chapter Two

Holly Joestar-Kujo stood inside the common area of the New Tokyo International Airport, nearly trembling with excitement. Since the incident with Jotaro refusing to leave the jail, Holly had made the decision to ask her father, Joseph Joestar, to come to Japan to help her. Joseph had always had strange powers of his own, as long as Holly could remember, so she figured that he'd be the best chance to get her son the help he needed. Spotting him departing from the terminal his flight had arrived at, Holly eagerly waved her arms and called out to capture his attention.

"Papa! Over here, Papa!"

"Holly! There you are. Hope I didn't leave you waiting too long."

As the two embraced, Joseph looked down into his daughter's eyes, and felt a sense of sorrow and worry that deeply betrayed her happy demeanor on the outside. There was no use denying it. His daughter was truly troubled by current events, and Joseph was glad he had responded to them so seriously. As his daughter pressed into his arms, a warm smile crossed over his face.

"Thank you for coming all the way here, Papa."

"Please, when my own daughter asks for help, I'd cross the globe in a day to save her!"

"And what about mom? Is she here too?"

"Suzie wanted to come, but I insisted that this was business for the real estate company, and that she'd get bored."

As Joseph spoke, Holly clung to him ever tighter, and he found himself unable to pull away without having to force her. An uneasy chuckle escaped his lips as he tried to peel her off of him.

"Okay Holly...You can let go now."

"No! It's been too long since we saw each other. I miss you too much."

"Holly, you're a forty-year-old woman now. You need to act just a bit more mature!"

"Don't remind me about that! Why I oughta tickle you for that."

As Holly began to tickle and prod at Joseph's ribs, uncontrollable laughter and hollering began to rock his whole body. He found himself twisting and writhing in his daughter's grip, enjoying himself far too much for a near-seventy-year-old businessman. Eventually this outburst began to attract a crowd of onlookers from the airport, which made Joseph quickly snap out of his teasing-induced daze and shout at the crowd to leave him and his daughter alone.

With the crowd around them dispersing, Joseph leaned in close to converse in private with his daughter. The incident she described involving his grandson, Jotaro, was weighing heavily on his mind as well, and he knew the importance of keeping it out of the public mind. Whispering sternly, he asked her the most important question he had on hand.

"Holly, about Jotaro...You're positive he mentioned an 'energy' he could manipulate, right?"

"Oh papa, it was terrible! Everyone there saw it. It was like his arm was on fire, and then it bent in a way that should have hurt him, but once he had the gun, it was like it never happened! And when he shot the bullet with just his fingers, I nearly screamed!"

"Now, Jotaro said this power came to him very recently. But what about you? Have you experienced anything at all like this?"

"No, papa, not at all! But Jotaro refuses to leave his cell until he figures this out. What are we going to do?"

"Oh, Holly! Don't worry, now that Joseph Joestar is here, everything will be just fine!"

As Holly knelt down to pick up her father's luggage and began to walk with him towards the exit, Joseph looked back over his shoulder at a man of dark skin and desert garb seated on an airport bench. The two exchanged a stern look, and Joseph snapped his fingers and gestured to the door, prompting the man from the deserts to stand and walk calmly after them.

Inside the jail, flashes of blinding white light shot from the cell holding Jotaro Kujo, the officers assigned to watch over him huddled behind a corner. As they muttered to themselves about how much of an issue Jotaro was becoming, Joseph stepped up behind them and spoke aloud.

"Relax. My grandson's coming with me now."

Joseph's voice managed to catch Jotaro's attention, and the teenager moved towards his cell's bars as Joseph approached the cell, the police attempting to stop him from getting any closer. Joseph pushed his way past them as Holly shouted for her son to relax, that his grandfather would be able to explain everything. As Joseph reached the cell, he stood in a deadlock stare with Jotaro, the two very clearly sizing each other up.

"Come out, Jotaro! We're going home."

"Get lost, old man! I didn't ask for you. I'm glad you wanna help but I don't think there's anything you can do for me."

Jotaro then held up something that stunned Joseph and left a look of pure shock smeared across his face. It was a piece of metal and wire, roughly the size of a human pinkie. Bright white bolts of energy traced around it for a brief moment, and as Joseph looked down, he saw that not only was the pinkie on his artificial left hand missing, but the glove surrounding it had been burnt away.

"Did you see it? Feel it? That mysterious energy is causing me to do things that shouldn't be possible...Now, stay away from me, before you lose whatever's left of your life."

Joseph was caught off-guard by the sheer boldness emitting from Jotaro as he flicked the pinkie back at Joseph, and stepped back towards the cell cot. Joseph had been similar once, and although he understood exactly what this 'energy' affecting Jotaro was, he knew the boy would never listen to him. With another snap of his fingers, Joseph called out for the mysterious man of the desert that had accompanied him and Holly from the airport.

"Abdul, it's your turn to talk to my grandson. Jotaro, this is a friend of mine who I met in Egypt about three years ago. Abdul here is going to get your stubborn ass out of that cell."

As Abdul approached the cell, his swirling robes relaxed around a strong form, indicating that he was far from a pushover, or cannon fodder being sent in by Joseph to do dirty work.

"Look, Abdul, you seem like a tough guy, but I'm not the type to just bend over to do whatever anyone else wants. Your intimidation only makes this cell seem more inviting."

Abdul glanced back to Joseph before speaking. "Mr. Joestar, I may have to get a little rough. Sometimes suffering is the only way to make a fool see reason."

"That's fine, Abdul. Do whatever it takes to get him out of there."

At this, both Holly and the two policemen began to panic, before a quick snapping order for silence from Joseph got the three of them to settle down and watch. Abdul began to take long, deep breaths, striking a pose resembling those used in Tai Chi and other spiritualist martial arts. As he did so, a billowing cloak of crimson flames began to course over Abdul's body, leaving the surrounding cell block with a distinct hue of red light, and an intense heat. Jotaro's face told everything as he took a step back from the bars of the cell.

"Yes, Jotaro! Abdul also shares that 'energy' you discovered. But unlike you, he's learned to master and manipulate it freely! He's perfected it into a spiritual and martial style he calls Magician's Red!"

As Joseph shouted this explanation above the roar of the flames, tendrils of the fire leaped past the bars and around Jotaro's limbs, lapping at the edges of his clothing and threatening to set it ablaze. As Jotaro began to scream from the heat of the red-hot fire, Holly begged for Joseph to stop Abdul, and the two prison officers cowered in fear behind the hallway corner. Eventually, Jotaro's screams began to turn to deep, labored breaths, before a piercing white counterpart to Abdul's flames began to coat Jotaro. Joseph's eyes narrowed as he cast a fierce glare at the scene before him.

"So, Jotaro's true potential finally reveals itself."