#fucker doesn't even know about taxes

[clonerightsagenda]

Ling yelling at Greed to stop deluding himself, he never really wanted to be king of the world, all he wanted was to live with his friends, and then going home to become emperor and looking grim compared to everyone else smiling surrounded by loved ones: Anything you want to share with the class, buddy?

[willowser]

sometimes i get the very strong urge to write a comes back ??? fic for bakugou but the more i think about it, the more i realize how emotionally taxing and honestly horrifying it would be.

you and bakugou spend a few years in that weird will-they-won't-they stage before you officially start seeing each other seriously, and then it takes some time to adjust to having a pro-hero for a partner — so it's not always easy. until the time goes by and you have a break up scare or two and things finally level out, and you figure out how to talk to each other and you fall into the beautifully warm comfort of just being together, in love.

and then he fucking dies. in a heart-explodey, blind-in-one-eye kind of way.

the two years that follow are just — time passing, like pages in a chapter you can't understand the words to. you know grief in a way you never could have comprehended before, you wonder what it's all for and how you'll go on. you're angry at him for sacrificing his stupid life and angry at the world for taking him from you, but you're so deeply, down to your bones, heartbroken over losing him.

and you're not the only one; more than any of his friends that you see, deku is the one who is there for you the most. calls you daily and pulls you out of bed, makes sure you eat because he knows that's what kacchan would want. lovingly flings out a few gruff insults that make you laugh until you're both crying in your kitchen. it means something, maybe, that you both can just mourn in the presence of one another, without judgement or care.

your relationship gets a little — dependent. not romantic, at least not for you, but it's like you need the other person for the bits of bakugou they hold that you don't. the memories and the laughs and the bad times as well as the good. the secrets katsuki would never tell you, and the tenderness izuku was never shown.

it never gets easier. every day is just another day. if you think about it for too long, it all comes crumbling down. you're almost having to disassociate through your life just to make it, and that's hard when the whole city mourns him, too. but you do it. every single day, even on the worst of them.

izuku calls you a little more than two years after, in the middle of the night.

sounding way too awake and out of breathe, though you don't think that's necessarily out of the ordinary, considering his profession. he's a very hyper-fixation kind of guy; you can only imagine what hobby he's picked up and also mastered in the last 48 hours.

he asks if he can come pick you up from your apartment because he "needs to show you something important" and you agree, even if it doesn't feel like it usually does, when the nights are long and you both need someone to talk to. this feels — urgent. a bit worrisome.

you don't know where he takes you, but he's quiet the whole way there. in an old sweater, hair mussed, bags under his eyes like he really hasn't slept in the last 48 hours.

("stupid flighty fucker," katsuki would say, sometimes, when the weight of the world was weighing too heavily on the number one hero's shoulders, and even if he would huff and puff and grit his teeth, you'd notice him checking his phone more often than usual. taking every phone call that came without hesitation.)

you almost want to tell izuku that, in the car, because that's what you do, that's how you've kept him alive between the two of you; kacchan would make a point to tell you that's not how generators work, in the shitty horror film you and deku go see, that kacchan wouldn't dare sit through.

("no, he would," you argue, solemn as the lights in the theater warm back to life, as it empties. "he would."

and after a long, heavy beat, izuku would agree. "yeah. he would.")

izuku brings you somewhere that's too clinical to be as quiet and as dark as it is: inside, the walls and floors are sterile with anti-septic but the lights are off, in every hallway. the only visibility comes from a small lamp that's in a lobby of sorts, and there is a small handful of people you don't know, at all, already there. waiting.

you say his name in a small, concerned question, and when he takes both his hands in yours, they're warm and too wide and sweaty. his eyes glow, but in a way you don't recognize. everything he says to you is — gibberish, a mish-mash of worry and half-sentences and all the warning bells are going off in your head.

"y-you can't freak out, okay? you have to—i can explain all this when...when the time is right."

"you said that you would give anything to have kacchan back, remember? you said—you would do anything."

"i know this sounds—i know how this sounds, okay? but nothing is impossible!"

"i just need you to trust me."

and up until now, you had no reason not to. but you're not sure when he slept last, or even when he ate last, or why he's muttering things about his quirk, how he and katsuki are connected somehow, in ways he's not able to explain.

or why you can faintly hear the steady beeping of a heart monitor just beyond the only closer door in this wing of the hospital.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Mota prompt, ot3 - Bucky/Buck/Curt. Just something about being the one black cat coded boyfriend between two orange cats coded boyfriends. I suppose the interesting thing here is that sometimes the black cat isn't who you think it is.

Curt can tell what people think of him and Bucky and Buck. They look at the three of them when they're introduced as a trio, and they immediately try to pinpoint which one is the most trouble.

Most of the time, they end up choosing Bucky. Which Curt doesn't consider a bad guess for strangers. Bucky's charming and loud and borderline annoying in his cockiness (all things that Curt liked right away). He's always got a joke and a grin, and he makes no bones about causing trouble if it gets a laugh.

When they decide it's Curt, he always responds with a slow, shit-eating grin and an easy roll of his shoulders. He never asks what sort of trouble they think he causes, but he knows what he looks like and what he sounds like, and when you're a stocky fucker from the Bronx with scars on your knuckles (he fell off his bike a lot as a kid), people figure you're the muscle for Bucky's mouth.

They're not entirely wrong about that, either.

What's amazing about watching people size up the three of them and choose who to watch out for, they never clock Buck. Not once. They eye him up and decide he must be a nice young man. Which is ridiculous because neither Curt nor Bucky come close to meeting that list of requirements, so why would Buck spend time with them if he's so polite and quiet and reserved.

It's a question Curt hears a lot. One Bucky even brings up in bed now and again to goad Buck into shoving him on the mattress and showing him exactly how "impolite" he can be. Those nights are extra-fun because Buck lets out the wilder part of himself. They all wrestle and leave marks on each other, and in the morning, Curt gets to watch with half-closed eyes as Buck examines where they've bitten him and left bruises and smile knowing he and Bucky have claimed him yet again.

The truth is, no one thinks Buck is any sort of trouble at all. The truth also is he's the biggest trouble of the three of them. It comes down to the fact that he's a fucking sneak and a half with the ability to keep a straight face while lying through his goddamn teeth. He pretends he doesn't know what he looks like, but Curt's seen that fucking smile get used to get out of trouble or steer attention away from whatever problem Curt and Bucky are causing.

"He's gonna be the goddamn death of us," Bucky mutters to Curt as they watch Buck go wide-eyed and faux-dumb to distract an angry soldier about paying out a poker loss to Curt, who he swears cheated.

Curt flips his spare ace back up his sleeve and ducks under Bucky's raised arm. "Only if he gets caught."

Bucky snorts in amusement and gives Curt a shake. Buck comes back over and drops on the other side of Bucky. "Come to an accord?" Bucky asks, pulling Buck close with his other arm.

"Nope. He won't pay." Buck watches the guy get led away by his friends, then reaches into his pocket and tosses a wallet in front of Curt. "So, I stole his wallet."

Bucky cackles and kisses Buck loudly on the cheek as Curt tucks the wallet under the table and takes the cash he's owed plus two dollars as annoyance tax. He passes the wallet back to Buck, who stands to leave the wallet someplace they can't be incriminated.

"Next time, tuck your fucking wrist," Buck says to Curt. Curt blows him a kiss. Buck leans across Buck and taps his forehead against Curt's. Curt doesn't feel Buck touch his wrist, but he laughs when Buck holds up the ace, then flicks it at him.

"Hey, what about me?" Bucky asks, and beams when Buck taps their foreheads together as he straightens.

Curt snugs up against Bucky again as they watch Buck walk halfway across the room and lean on a table to talk to the men there. It's only because he's taught him the trick that they see him push the wallet to the very tip of his fingers and drop it to the floor under the table.

"I am pretty sure he could murder us in broad daylight while being recorded by a newsreel camera, and no one would believe it," Curt says.

"Yeah, but what a way to go," Bucky replies, and Curt can only nod in agreement.

[radiosummons]

Real talk: Does the Jedi Order have a tax exempt status?

I know it's somewhat of a meme to make jokes about how the Jedi don't know how to pay taxes, or rather questioning whether they get paid or make any income at all. And, yes, this question is kinda dumb in the sense that whether the Jedi Order has tax exempt status or not, it doesn't effect the over all story or any actual SW lore in any way that actually matters.

I also know that tax exempt status works differently in other countries besides the US (yes, hello, I am American. I hate it here, too). But for the sake of taking this very dumb question at face value, would the Jedi Order:

1) Count as a religious institution in the eyes of Republic law?

2) If so, would their status as a religious institution have any impact on whether they attained tax exempt status from the Republic?

3) What standards and regulations would the Republic IRS have in place regarding tax exemption?

4) Do the Jedi even have an accounting department?

I would peronally argue that, yes, the Jedi Order is in fact a religious institution. On the account of the obvious connection to the Force and heavily coded (if not just downright) religious practices that the Jedi follow.

However, even if the Republic were to grant the Jedi Order the status of a lawfully recognized religious institution, I'm not sure if this would actually lead to them a guaranteed tax exempt status.

According to United States IRS standards and regulations, the Jedi Order could and would also be seen as a religious institution. However, one of the biggest stipulations for retaining tax exempt status is that the religious institution does not attempt to or make any influence on legislative or attempt to influence political campaigns.

(Palpatine voice: Ironic).

Now, if the Republic had similar stipulations, I would argue that, no, the Jedi do not get tax exemption. Mostly because one of the longest known duties associated with the Jedi Order is their role in assisting with galactic diplomacy. It would be literally impossible for them to not get involved in some capacity, especially when their aid is often directly requested (whether by a Republic aligned planet or not).

That being said, this is all going by the standards of the IRS. And at the risk of sounding too jaded, there are hundreds if not outright thousands of religious institutions in the US that should have lost their tax exempt status decades ago. And yet ....

Obviously, this all ultimately depends on what standards the Republic would theoretically have in place for situations like this. And while I would never actually want George Lucas--or any other writer for that matter--to attempt to give us a canon answer, I can't help but wonder.

Even if the Jedi Order was completely self-reliant--which I personally don't think is possible due to them, well, living on Coruscant for thousands of years-just as an example. It just doesn't make sense to me that the Jedi would limit themselves to only what they make in house when they could have easy access to other local businesses, ya know?--whose to say that they wouldn't still be required to pay for taxes like regular citizens?

The Jedi Temple, again, has literally been there for thousands of years. I don't think it's entirely out of the realm of possibility that the Republic wouldn't have sent their own SW IRS agent at least once to audit the Jedi Order.

I honestly wouldn't even be surprised if that Jedi Order would be given a slight form of tax exemption, but only if certain conditions were met. Like, I don't know, what if an official member of the local Coruscantii/Republic government were to make a direct request for the aid of the Jedi. Maybe they'd get a tax write off for all the transportation and housing (or vehicular damage) they'd acrue while on this government sponsored mission?

Or what about this? Business institutions in the US get tax write offs for charitable donations (which the fuckers exploit to hell and back, fuck me). I have to wonder if there was a point in time (maybe the early years of the ye Old Republic) where someone had to bring up the fact that a lot of what the Jedi do could count fall under charitable tax deductions. So if they wanted to continue taxing the Jedi Order, they'd probably have to change up the definition or something.

Idk, man, I'm sort of spit balling random thoughts at this point.

I'd also like to say that I believe the Jedi do, in fact, have an accounting department. Just to keep thing running smoothly in regards to the Temple budget and so on. It would be kinda hard to keep a place that big with that many occupants still around and for that long without having someone keeping a close eye on the Order's spending.

Mostly, though, I just find the idea of the Jedi being audited absolutely hilarious.

[sca-nerd]

renn fair tips!!!

yes bring water, but also figure out how you can bring that water, some places only let you bring in sealed, never opened, bottles (cause alcohol is a large part of event revenue)

CASH, most sellers have got a square card reader or paypal or something, but those work at the whims of cell service, and cell service tends to suck in parks

also with cash depending on the seller they might just wave the tax. things are priced to even dollars most of the time

the crafts people (leather, blacksmiths, silversmiths, glassblowers) are where you really want to "focus" your money, not because there's anything wrong with the clothing stalls, it's just that it's harder to get those items online, and you're helping a small business

also some of the clothing sellers just buy in bulk from a place like amazon and clip off the tag, "wevez" is where i get my skirts, and the price markup can be anywhere from 2 to 3 times what you'd pay if you bought from the seller directly

the end of the last day of the weekend you can get food for cheaper, so if you're staying until close and don't want to find a fast food joint, get a turkey leg

bed bugs, (SPRAYS DO NOT WORK ON THESE MOTHER FUCKERS) the horrible truth of the matter is, it is a valid concern, moreso since COVID. so if you do buy anything, im talking books, tunics, hair wraps, corsets, trousers, a kilt. anything a bed bug could be hanging out in, you put that in a seperate plastic bag, seal it, and stick it in the freezer when you get home. then you beat out the thing a few hours later.

this doesn't kill them, but it does make them hibernate, which means you can shake them out then kill them or if youre feeling vindictive, pop them in the oven, a minimum of 120F for 90 mins gets all bugs and possible eggs. you could also put the things in your dryer on high for the longest setting, but i personally prefer the oven (and not just because i don't have a drier)

business cards! i personally collect business cards for convience and maybe one day i'll go back to pursuing graphic design, but having a designated pocket for business cards or pamphlets cause you may be grabbing a lot of them

the vibes: Its a bunch of weird nerds getting dressed up to play pretend and get drunk in the park. It can get weird, and it can get raunchy (not horny, just crass) i have witnessed several different parents huff off with their kid cause a performer made a low brow joke that was obvious enough that the kid knew smth dirty was said, MOST of the people are chill with boundries, but some never got out of that phase of being a dick cause they think it's funny

speaking of phases, renn faires are still the only place i have ever been where you've got the flagrantly queer and menanist douchebags bumping shoulders. like side eyes are made im sure, but you can walk down a path, past somebody in the loudest, most obviously gay garb you have seen outside of a drag show, then a few feet behind them is somebody else with a trump denim vest

also, back to the rauchy bit, there will likely be people there who are cool, but use outdated/offensive lingo. like I got called a fairy by a guy waiting in line for a kebob, he did try and backpedel, but im fine with being called that and his girlfriend (who obviously dragged him there) was dressed up like a fairy, so jokes were had and expensive kebab's purchased (idk what they used to season those things but they were so fkin good for just being some meat on a stick)

if you do a craft (knitting/crochet) check if you can bring your supplies in because some places don't let guest bring in knitting needles (they are often 11 in long pointy sticks so fair enough)

ASK QUESTIONS not just at the small semi educational areas they sometimes have, but also the people selling things, i love hearing people talk about their crafts (also renn faire drama is real and it is wild, and it's much more exciting because it's effect on you is almost null)

WATER WATER WATER

I KNOW I SAID THIS AT THE TOP BUT IM SAYING IT AGAIN

DRINK SOME FUCKING WATER

some faires have pub crawls and i have witnessed many a stumbling drunk get escorted out by EMTs cause he didn't pace himself and drank on an empty stomach

[wack-ashimself]

Why I hate Taylor Swift...

As a straight white middle aged guy (who doesn't give a SHIT about the #superbowl), there's only ONE reason I hate #taylorswift. She's a self absorbed ego maniac billionaire. See-if she had became a billionaire and gave most of it away (since rich people ALWAYS can earn back billions, right? It's easy, right!?), I would ONLY be praising her, even tho I think she's full of herself.

But she didn't. She didn't even get close. DID NOT EVEN TRY. She's one of the richest people on the planet, from poor people paying outrageous overpriced ticket prices for her shitty concerts, and y'all are praising her for that? Fucking bootlickers of just nicer, name brand boots.

Taylor Swift is a money grubbing fucker same as #elonmusk and #jeffbezos.

And she only makes the world worse with her greed. There is no such thing as a good billionaire. No exceptions. 'Well, blah blah blah gave a fuck ton to charity.' A-charity can be written off on taxes. Guess who wrote those laws? RICH PEOPLE. b-they didn't STOP the central causes of why these charities* need to exist. c-the BILLIONS THEY STOLE from poor people was them just giving back money they stole. Like stealing 1 billion, and paying a fine of 100 million. Dumbasses.

*not to mention, do you know how much charity money goes to the board members/ceo/etc AND marketing ALONE?! Like 1/3 of it! You're paying .33 cents on the dollar for their ads and rich bosses to solve nothing.

[trying414]

The American Federal Poverty Line is absolute bullshit and I'm betting part of it is the inclusion of millionaires and billionaires etc in the census. There is no way a single person can live on less than $15k in 2023. Most places charge at least $2k per month for rent. You won't get even a year's worth from that. Add in the fact that I'm pretty sure that $15k is before taxes? No. Fuck you.

You don't give a damn about the people living in your country, the only thing you give a damn about is stuffing your pockets and tyrannical ruling until everything that doesn't fit your outdated ideals is banned again.

First, the overturn of Roe v. Wade, and now, you're blocking debt relief for the people that are only in debt because of *your* system.

This country is absolutely full of bullshit, and I, personally, cannot wait for all of the elitist, misogynist, hypocritical, tyrannical fucktards in charge to be replaced by the youth of this country because THEY actually give a damn.

Fuck out of here with your encroachment on rights. At this point, voting isn't "by the people, for the people," it's pick the lesser of two evils, and half the time, there's no term limit and the fucker won't leave. They've overstayed their welcome, and they need to retire with the mountain of money that they unjustly "earned" by "representing" the American people.

The goal is not to preserve the ideals of the elders. It's to make a better future for the youth and newer generations, and the people on Capital Hill don't seem to give a damn.

Recognize the fact that you don't know everything and times are changing. New ideas and ideals form everyday, and by not letting the youth have a voice, you're keeping everyone stuck in the past. You abuse your power, and you abuse your people.

I liken this country to a crashing airplane. Only we aren't following procedure. If an airplane is going down, you first put the oxygen on yourself, and then help others. Because you can't help others if you don't first help yourself. Our country needs to focus on the problems within our country prior to attempting to help others. Its hypocritical to want them to be better when we can't even get our shit together.

And I'm not saying that those countries we aid don't need support. But I am saying that the state of our nation is rapidly declining, and instead of using our resources to correct that, we are overextending and burning ourselves out.

There are many ways to offer support, and we aren't the only country able to do so. Not that we would know if other countries are helping, because our "news" and media is so biased and skewed that the narrative is controlled in a way that fits political agenda before it fits its actual purpose. Which is disgusting in and of itself.

There need to be term limits for everyone in power.

There need to be more than the two parties represented not only in the actual government, but in the elections. Debates should include ALL candidates, not just republicans and democrats.

There needs to be a complete overhaul of the Healthcare system. No one should struggle to get the care they need, and NO ONE should have to choose between paying their bills and getting medical help. Medical should not cost so much that a person can go bankrupt.

The same goes for education. If you're going to require higher education for the jobs you want fulfilled, then you need to make it more accessible. Many people don't go to college because they can't afford it. Oh, you want us to take out loans? Remind us about the debt relief that

You

Just

Blocked

And ask us again, if we think it's worth it. The current debt relief systems available are ridiculously hard to qualify for, so it's no wonder that the citizens are in debt. Let's not mention the fact that the government is *also* in debt because they keep lending out money they don't *actually* have.

This country is literally the exact thing we fought against in the revolutionary War.

This is taxation without representation.

You don't hear from the lower and middle classes. Everyone in power has the funds to get there. Has the money to do whatever the fuck they want without consequences. And what does that say about our nation, truly?

We have an astronomically high number of homeless.

More people become homeless everyday because of the debt the people in power force upon them.

Politics is not about helping the people in this country. It's about forcing your will and wants upon those who can't stop you.

You love to act as though this country is run perfectly and there aren't any problems. You know why?

Because you're the problem.

Now I'm going to go get off of social media again because this bullshit has ruined my day.

Thanks a lot, America.

Edit: AND FUCK THE FOURTH OF JULY BECAUSE THAT'S CELEBRATING THE INDEPENDENCE WE DON'T HAVE. THATS CELEBRATING THE COUNTRY THAT DOESNT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT US.

now I'm done.

[omega-tech]

CERTAIN GOVERNMENT OFFICE IS WORRY ABOUT OUR BIRTH RATE SYSTEM BEING AT IT ALL TIME LOW?

I was reading an article about a certain government department that is worried that America's birth rate is at an all time low. And they wanna know why it is. And it got to me in a strange way until I noticed why. THEY WANTED MORE BODY FOR THEIR WARS MEANING THEY NEED SOLDIERS TO MIND WIPE AND CONTROL! Heard me out

If ya haven’t ya notice, the military is at it all time low in the recruitment stages. They even threw more benefits like health care, housing and even get a nice sports car. But none of that is working anymore since people do know that once you’re in the military system, they own you. And you can be replace if you get kill or you kill yourself from the mental abuse they do to people. So now the government doesn't have enough soldiers to protect them or fight the wars they started. And what would a government do? Start making laws and banners of abortion and birth control/sex protection products. And yet that is still not working even though people are being more careful when having sex as a couple is not trying to have an unwanted baby they can’t afford.

That has been my theory for a good while ever since the government banned the abortion and the protection of women's body rights. And soon they will go after men who want to get a vasectomy aka man birth control that I am trying to get soon. And now this department that study and review the birth rates of america on a daily is worry that their isn’t no babys being born at a certain rate each month like a fucking factory. The way things are now with inflation and housing, I don't think couples don’t want to have kids in this era unless it is one child, then again. The government wants a couple to have six kids then only one because that is a basic family value to have in “AMERICA SOCIETY”.

For me, when I was dating this one girl. We agree if we had a child, it would only be one and that is it. But yet our American family values a generation behind us like the bloomers see it as a cruel way of raising an only child with no brother or sister. How is it cruel? And why do ya think what my child wants? Maybe my son/daughter don’t want a brother or sister, have you thought of that! But that is how America taught society. Like the movie “THEY LIVE”. The government wants us to obey, conform, buy, reproduce, sleep and follow the rules of their game! As we who are awake and know what is going on around us and don’t follow the rules while not playing the game are more free then every then being combined with a ball and chain around our ankles. 

What i am trying to say is that this department who is watching our birth rate system here in america should be keeping a eye out on other things like housing crisis, crooks in our government office stealing tax payers money, homeless crisis, mental health and so many things i can’t name right now but yet ya mother fuckers are worry about our birth rate system. Well what i have to say is go fuck yourself and mind your damn business of couples/lovers who don’t want to have kids.

[thevampiresoc]

oh btw about Sasha's arranged marriage. it's not even toxic. Mandela is literally just some guy. Like, you ask her how the date went and she goes "that fucker did nothing but explain everything possible to know about taxes and then went on a tangent about the history of tapestries.". Mandela doesn't even commit crimes (besides owning a speakeasy but I might change that due to this being the medieval eras) so Sasha can't bond with 'em over that.

[samsspambox]

the nxx villain au you didn't need, but i'll give it to you anyway bc it won't leave me alone

now, stellis is a place with a shit load of crime and tbh, are you sure you wanna invest into the real estate market here? anyway, what if our gaggle of hot protagonists were actually villains? you know, more in theme with the city they live in? i will be offering up some different options for them to be different types of villains in part bc maybe you want them to be morally grey, but also bc i cant decide what villain they should be.

be warned: will be talking about stuff villains do (death, drugs..) so read with caution if you're uncomfortable with this stuff!

red flags aside: here we go!

Luke

okay so going from least morally grey, i think this mf could be a vigilante

hear me out, he already has this innate sense of justice if he joined the nsb (well,, he was recruited when he was 16/17 so did he really join by his own volition?)

anyway

vigilante pearce but he doesn't hold back the punches bc sometimes, stopping someone means getting blood on your hands

it also fits well with his lone wolf tendencies we see in chapter one where he literally shuts off the fucking coms while investigating something

sub point: assassin for hire luke pearce

no moral compass, just having a target and ending the target (:

i also think he could a lab rat/field agent combo for a counter intelligence agency that the nsb doesn't fuck with

or alternatively: what if the nsb didn't find luke but herrison did?

he could be one of the fuckers working on the nxx drug but also? what if he went out and tested it unsuspecting people?? a whole ass menace to society

this one is kinda tangential but: underground mass drugs/arms distribution luke pearce

mob king luke pearce? mob king luke pearce.

i mean hes already in this space in game where he doesn't want mc to see him as raven bc that's the 'worst version of him' so what if, fuck it, he embraces that?

with his bio-engineering knowledge he could be the one making the drugs and save on the labor lmaooo

Vyn

fake psychic

LMAOO HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT

he can easily read people and based on that he can tell them what they want to hear (no, this isn't me plugging the mentalist as a show you should watch, stfu)

anyway he has a flair for the dramatics and can perform magic tricks too, you could put him in a daytime television show and he could make millions

similarly about reading people i could see him being an interrogator but like,, the shady type

they type that if you're held hostage would rip you to shreds and he wouldn't even have to touch you

he can also serve as a type of lie detector??? again, vyn would be pretty good at reading people

here's a big one: traitor to svart

he already hates the place and he's basically given a position of power if he stays

he wouldn't be good at reading people in this one bc he didn't go to school for psych, he focused more on how to run a country

but i feel like vyn just has this really good talent for reading people regardless of training

anyway he kinda just,,, let's people fuck over svart and everyone is none the wiser

Marius

he could be an art thief tbh

i'm not talking about copying paintings— well he could do that as a side hustle but no— i mean like actually going in and stealing paintings

he could resell them under the guise of 'i found this stolen artwork and i just had to save it, you know? now give me money'

he wouldn't even be held as a villain he'd be a fucking hero

next one: he's the son of a person with a conglomerate empire do i really need to say more /j

no but fr him as a villain could just be him not caring for what's happening in the compay

who's to say he wasn't the one to send giann off bc he wanted the company? (yes i am implying that marius had giann killed, this is a villain au)

another one who could be a good candidate for a mob boss but here's the catch: this fucker would also be involved in politics

after all, no one can come after you if you make laws that prevent people from coming after you!

tax fraud, disappearing people, parties, admission fraud, you name it. he's probably done it. no one can catch him tho (:

Artem

listen i mean this from the bottom of my heart and as an artem stan: he's boring.

there's no feasible way for him to become a villain without outside incentives. he's literally one of the least corruptible people in the game, how do we get him to be a villain?

well, we blackmail him. we force him to be a villain.

see, arty will defend his clients to the bitter end. what if he pulls a baldr and that also means 'by any means necessary'? just one time wouldn't hurt, right?

wrong. now ingrid roseworth has some pretty incriminating stuff on artem, but if he signed on with baldr she wouldn't release that stuff

oh he wants to take them to court? pity, then the whole world will know what he did without them even lifting a finger.

so he goes to baldr. it just snowballs from there until he's bribing his own father. there's no rest for the wicked, after all

this is literally the only way i can see artem go villain. he's too straight-laced to actually become a villain and he believes too much in justice

well, he can also go vigilante but again, his moral code wouldn't allow him to do it.

would they be in a group? i don't think so?? i'm like 90% sure that all of them being villains would mean they would clash heads often enough, so no. if i were to put them in a group tho?

id go with assassin luke, traitor vyn, bad ceo von hagen, and then blackmailed artem. they're all plotting the fall of svart so that marius could buy his own country. vyn doesn't care what happens to the place, it isn't home to him. marius just wants a country. luke is there bc he's getting paid and so is artem, though he'd use the fall of svart as blackmail to ceo von hagen, since it was planned from the beginning.

and yeah. those are my thoughts for a villain au involving the nxx! have fun <3

[thelittlecoughsomewhere]

Headcanoning all the roy siblings as queer sure is fun. And you just know these repressed fuckers never came out to each other or maybe even themselves. but even though they never came out to each other, some of them know about each other.

Shiv knows Roman is queer, but has no idea about Kendall. Kendall knows Shiv slept with Lisa but doesn't know about Roman. Roman just knows that something happened between Ken and Stewy, but has no idea about Shiv.

Connor doesn't even know that bisexuality exists. in his head he just views his attraction to men in an ancient-greek-way.

Out of all the sibling he is the likeliest to have come out (without intention or knowledge), just mentioning in passing the one-night-stand he had with a guy who was also a tax-abolitionist and encouraged him to go into politics.

[kiridarling]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒

izuku midoriya | ft. ceo!au + praise + exhibitionism + breaking and entering + body worship + f!reader + more! minors dni.

— 3.8k words

“When I saw you this evening, in that ballgown, I knew I just had to have you. But I can't be a gentleman for much longer, as much as I'd like to."

You’ve always hated Chopin.

“L’œuf mimosa, Madame?”

After turning down the poor waiter whose arms quiver under the weight of the plates, you turn back to your red wine and people-watching. The ballroom is full of golds and reds, the amber lighting illuminating the intricately decorated walls. And you sit in the middle of it all—you and your 147 billion net-worth, with a ball gown that’s caught at least half the aristocratic asshole’s attention, not that they were very loyal to their wives in the first place.

You're not here for their attention, though. You’re strictly here for business—and frankly, you want to do nothing more than sock these fat business moguls in their chubby faces until their teeth fall out and demand they pay their taxes. But, seeing as you’re the only woman here who isn’t a gold-digging wife, you bite your tongue.

You’ve always dreaded black tie events, but as you’ve said, duty calls.

A whine filters through the speakers, followed by two amplified taps and a clear of a throat. The murmur down as the auction's owner takes the center of the stage, stilling in front of the next piece of art—hidden behind a black veil—before adjusting the tie to his business suit.

“I’m glad that you all could be with us tonight. I have both a great privilege and honor to host this event,” he announces, bulbous head already growing damp under the heat of the stage lights. “Now that we're almost at the end, I'm sure you won't be disappointed. Saving the best for last, as one does."

He includes a casual wave to his comment and the audience erupts in a flurry of chuckles, though not for long. As he walks over to the piece, hand raised and ready to reveal, silence seizes the room by the neck.

"Well. Shall we?”

The audience balances on the edges of their seats, with millions of wide eyes and thrumming chests in anticipation. A smooth flick of a hand and the black sheet is removed, and there sits the only piece you’ve had your eyes on all night. She’s even more beautiful up close.

“El Bacio, The Kiss. Francesco Hayez, 1859.”

The grip around your glass tightens. The brilliant blue from the woman’s dress in the oil painting may as well burn your eyes, and the surrounding murmurs peak with your interest. You know it's yours without question, though—you can outbid almost anyone in this room. Anyone that matters, anyway.

“This is the original version, originally commissioned by Count Alfonso Maria Visconti of Saliceto. It was donated to the Pinacoteca di Brera in 1886 and went missing in 1937. Starting at ten million.”

You try not to scowl. The fucker jacked up the price by two million.

“Twelve million,” the man says as he recognizes whoever lifted a hand. You sit tight, your hands throbbing in your lap for the right moment as you survey the room for anyone who could possibly pose a threat. You find none.

The bidding continues. The price elevates from twelve million to fifteen to thirty to fifty. You raise a hand, finally, fingers splayed wide and confident to signify a five.

“Fifty-five million.”

The room falls silent; you try not to smile. You know for a fact no one wants this painting more than you do, and you’re determined to have it.

“No one else?”

His eyes scan the room but no one makes a motion. It’s yours.

Until there’s movement from your peripheral.

“Sixty million!”

You eye whoever had the audacity to raise their hand, only to be met with a rather peculiar sight—a man, roughly your age, with slicked-back green hair and a hand twice the size of yours, lifted lazily in the air.

With a huff, you find yourself thrusting another five into the air.

“Sixty-five millio—Seventy million!”

You know that green-haired (probably) trust fund baby has got to be doing this for fun because the poorly hidden smirk hidden behind the hand he rests his chin on is more than obvious.

You dislike him already, immediately categorizing him with the rest—another sleazeball.

“Seventy-five million!”

“Eighty million!”

“One hundred million!”

In your defense, you were getting frustrated.

Either way, the green-haired stranger backs off with a nonchalant shrug, and it makes you burn this discontent. The business mogul-turned-auctioneer steps off the stage for another twenty-minute intermission and folks turn to one another for conversation. You sigh, simply satisfied that you’ve gotten what you came for.

You find yourself faintly puzzled by the boy with the green hair, and you're sure it's solely due to his age. Frankly, you've been the only one under thirty in the Top 100 Richest People since you achieved such a feat, and the fact that you haven't heard of him is...puzzling. But it doesn't matter. Clearly, he’s just another fellow looking to put another pretty thing in his foyer—you doubt he knows a thing about art, and definitely not an appreciation for it. You find solace in the fact that it's the new addition to your precious art collection instead, and will be owned and taken care of by someone who actually enjoys it.

“Good evening.”

You jump. Wrapped up in all of your inner turmoil (complemented by inner bragging, naturally) you fail to notice the greenette cross the expanse of the ballroom and make himself comfortable in the open seat next to you, despite your lack of approval.

“Hello,” you say, unsure of why he's here. He offers a hand to shake, Rolex glinting under the golden lighting.

“Izuku Midoriya,” he introduces, and you suppose shaking his hand won’t hurt.

“Your name?” He snorts, raising a cocky eyebrow. You scowl.

“Does it matter?”

“Not particularly.” Izuku rests his forearms on the table as his evergreen eyes rake your figure up and down. “But if you prefer to remain nameless, be my guest.”

“[Y/N].”

“Hmm?”

“My name,” you clarify. “It’s [Y/N].”

You’re not exactly sure what possessed you to tell him your name so easily. Maybe the fact that most already know who you are, and the fact that this man—this stranger—doesn’t know who you are, irks you a bit.

Okay. It irks you a lot.

“Well, Miss [Y/N],” Izuku tilts his head sideways. “I think that’s a very pretty name.”

Your body betrays you with a light gasp. Stupid thing.

“Well. I’m bored,” Izuku announces childishly, relaxing against the chair. “Lets go somewhere.”

You roll your eyes at his asserted dominance—in no way does he expect you to go with him, does he? You raise an eyebrow.

“No.”

Izuku clicks his tongue as if it were a buzzer, and more importantly, as if you were wrong. “Why?”

That has you scoffing. “I don’t know you.”

Izuku’s eyes flash with a challenge and it’s gone just as quickly. He leans forwards, crowding your personal space yet again.

“I told you my name, no?”

“You did,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening your back. You feel too small. “But I know nothing about you.“

“Well,” Izuku places an inquisitive finger on his lips, and it’s almost mocking, the way he takes a moment to think about it. “My name is Izuku Midoriya. I like...katsudon and hero movies. I’m here because I have too much time and money on my hands, and I’m, most importantly, bored.”

Your eyes narrow. “What do you do for a living?”

Izuku’s lip curls, and it’s downright sinister, “I'll tell you if you come with me."

You roll your eyes, and he takes both your hands in his. You don’t pull away, but you don’t reciprocate it either.

“Where?”

Izuku shrugs, “Wherever the wind takes us.”

Your stomach growls loudly, interrupting your fairly intimate conversation and dying your cheeks pink. Izuku raises an eyebrow.

“I heard they’re feeding us escargo for dinner.”

“Ugh,” you sigh, shoulder sagging. “Looks like I’m not eating, then.”

But there’s a glint in his eyes, and you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t one in your own. There's an ebb in the discourse, a beat, before Izuku's nodding towards the exit.

“Fast food?”

Wendy’s hits different during a Parisian midnight.

“—and so I had to be like: No Kacchan, you can’t hotwire his car to blow just because your food was, and I quote, lukewarm.”

You snicker behind a fist, digging your fancy heels into the grimy cement sidewalk, Wendy’s frostee in hand. Izuku hasn’t let go of your hand since you two left the fast-food joint, and for some reason, you haven’t pulled away.

"Violence seems to be a reoccurring theme with your friend," you say, laughing when Izuku nods in agreement, eyes stuck on the full moon hanging high in the air.

"You remind me of him, actually."

You raise an eyebrow, unable to see the correlation at all, "Because I'm a loud and angry and I like to blow things up."

"Or, because you're strong—independent. The type of woman to make men turn tail and run, you know?" Izuku turns to you with a lopsided grin.

You hum, averting your eyes to the moon. It's a stupid question, one that's all too loaded yet empty at the same time, and you hate that you hesitate to ask it.

"Why haven't you ran, then?"

"Easy." Izuku lets a smooth shrug roll off his shoulders, "I like strong women."

He continues to pull you to an undisclosed destination, the two of you stumbling through the heart of Paris with his suit jacket around your goosebump-ridden shoulders. People stare, but for the first time in forever, you find that you don't care much.

Finally, you two reach Izuku's "big reveal." You gaze at the magnificently lit french building in confusion, the golden under lights contrasting both of your beings against the navy blue sky.

"The Louvre?"

"Mhm," Izuku says, and he looks more than giddy. "Have you been?"

"Once," your voice is weary and you're sure he senses it, his grip tightening around your own. "For a fundraiser...but it's midnight Izuku, ho—"

But he's already tugging you to the right, dipping between columns and arches until you reach the back of the building. Izuku turns to you and whispers:

"Watch this."

It's hard to tell what he did exactly, especially with no light—it's just a bunch of jingles and ticks. Though, the moment you can't escape the sense that this is beyond sketchy, a lock clicks, and a door whines open.

"Hurry. And take your heels off," Izuku whispers, tilting his head towards the entrance. You hear the crunch of a leaf and see the beginning of a white flashlight curl around the building and fuck, this place has to be crawling with security guards, doesn't it?

"Don't tell me what to do," you grumble...as you take off your shoes. (Because you were going to do it anyway.) You enter and he closes the door behind the two of you, submerging you both in complete darkness.

"Security's only on the outside," Izuku grins. "They don't expect us to get inside, so as long as we're quiet, it should be fine."

"Until we have to get back out again," you say, huffing. Your heart pounds from the adrenaline because frankly, you've never been one for adventures, and breaking into a historical french museum is miles out of your comfort zone. "Seriously, did you think this through at all? What happens when we get caught?"

Izuku sighs, turning to you with a pout before grabbing your free hand again. "Women worry too much. C'mon—I wanna explore."

"You—let go, you misogynistic assho—"

You're cut off by a finger to your lips. Izuku bends down so he’s looking at you straight on, eyes dark as he sternly whispers, "Do you want us to get caught?"

It's not the prospect of getting caught that makes you falter, though—it's the way his stare pins you in place, voice swollen with that air of dominance you claim to hate. You have to tighten your grip on your heels to ensure they don't hit the ground.

"Now," Izuku‘s strangely childish manner returns, tugging your hand once your panicked whisper-yelling ceases, "Shall we?"

You roll your eyes, but your bare feet patter against the cold Louvre tile anyway. And you've got to say, the museum is much nicer when it isn't crawling with people.

"Mona Lisa's forehead is bigger than I thought," Izuku observes with a finger on his lip. He's on the wrong side of the railing, his nose close to kissing the glass protecting the piece. You snort, dropping your head to pinch the bridge. He turns to give you a weird look.

"What?"

"Nothing, just," you shake your head, the cool wood of the railing digging into your forearms. "Did you actually want that painting?"

Izuku frowns. "Which one?"

"El Bacio."

"Mm," the greenette hums as he thinks, blinking to the corner of the room."I suppose. You seemed like you wanted it more, though."

You roll your eyes, "So you cap at eighty million?"

Izuku shrugs, hopping the railing. Seems like he's finally done insulting poor Lisa, "I capped when you started to sweat."

You huff, but stomping instead of walking isn't so intimidating when you're barefoot. "I wasn't sweating."

You see a hidden smirk on Izuku's face once you catch up to him, and it's frustrating and insulting, to say the least. Both of you proceed down a hall of statues. "You're much easier to read than you think, Miss [Y/N]."

"And you're not as perceptive as you think, Mister Midoriya."

Izuku chuckles at that, shaking his head. "Well played, Miss [Y/N]. Well played."

You're not sure why your chest swells, but it does, and it takes both you and your limited lung capacity off guard. But you don't have much time to sort it out—Izuku's grabbing your hand again, and redirecting your attention to the last statue in the hall. You recognize it and frown.

“Cupid and Psyche?”

The silver moonlight pours in through the window, spilling down Cupid’s tipped wings and the softest points of the Psyche’s curves. Izuku hums in confirmation, hands sliding to encompass your hips as his chin hooks on your shoulder.

"Well done, Miss [Y/N]."

His voice deepens—it's coarse and heady, and gets your blood rushing in a way breaking and entering never could have.

"Amore e Psiche, Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss. Antonio Canova, 1793."

You fail to understand why this statue stood out to him compared to all the others, but the circles Izuku’s thumb presses into your hips signifies that you’ll find out soon.

"Cupid represents desire, and Psyche, the human soul," Izuku says, running his hands up your sides. "Together, they make the perfect union."

Dipping his nose into your neck, Izuku inhales, and the hands around your waist tighten, if the smallest bit. "Psyche was the prettiest woman in the world; so pretty she rivaled Venus' beauty with her own. It didn't matter if it broke rules—Cupid knew he had to have her."

The gentle nudge of a neck evolves into a set of butterfly kisses, tracing the column of your neck until his mouth reaches your ear. A hand slides to gently cup your breast, and the other to your thigh.

"Miss [Y/N], when I saw you this evening, in that ballgown, I knew I just had to have you. But I can't be a gentleman for much longer, as much as I'd like to." Izuku groans into your neck, hips gently grinding forwards. "So, it's up to you what we do next—I could drop you off at your home to probably never see you again, or...”

Izuku shifts, and you can feel his hardening cock against your back. “I can bend you over right here. Your choice.”

You hesitate, determined to think this through—but Izuku's wandering hands and rutting hips prove to be too much of a distraction.

"Fine," is all you say, before whirling around, grabbing the greenette by his dress shirt, and slamming your lips onto his.

Izuku kisses back with a grin—like he knew you were going to say yes—and places his hands around your waist yet again, backing you up against the marble statue.

"Sit on the platform," he breathes into your mouth. You frown.

"Like, the platform to the statue? Caus—"

"Yes on the statue, now sit," Izuku demands, but he doesn't give you much room to protest, forcing you onto the marble platform. Hiking your dress to your waist, Izuku's calloused palms slide up your inner thighs, spreading them apart to make room for himself in between. He pauses.

"No panties?"

You flush red—from the exposure or the comment, you aren't sure—but you huff in defiance nevertheless, determined to stand your ground and keep some of your dignity. (Though you're positive Izuku can feel you shaking already.)

"I'm wearing a dress," you defend weakly.

Izuku hums behind a bitten lip, lying a heavy thumb on your clit. It's enough pressure to make your thighs tense but not much else, until it flicks downwards.

"I wanna taste you," Izuku growls with dilated pupils once he finally tears his gaze from your exposed body. "Can I?"

Heat surges through your veins, and you let him pry your thighs apart as you respond with an unsteady, "Yeah—yeah, that's fine."

Izuku's chest rumbles with a growl as he closes in on your pussy, hands gripping underneath your thighs. You whimper when he trails butterfly kisses down your inner legs, the grip you have around the skirt of your dress tightening.

"So pretty," Izuku groans, chuckling when you shiver as he flattens his tongue against your slit, "My Goddess."

With that he dives in, almost sending you toppling with the force. The moonlight dyes his green locks a navy blue, and you can't resist seizing them into a fist when he pushes a finger in.

"Feel good, Gorgeous?" Izuku says with a knowing smirk on his sinfully glossed lips. Another digit enters and it has your toes curling as you nod. “Shit, you’re tight.”

Izuku spits on your pussy and it’s downright dirty, before looks at you under forest green eyelashes, the other hand finally letting go of your thigh in favor for pulling at the top of your dress.

“Izuku, wha—“

“I wanna see your tits,” he huffs. You’d laugh at his enthusiasm if you weren’t so aroused, and you find your hands joining in the flurry. The moment they’re free, Izuku’s mouth latches onto your breast in an instant.

“F-Fuck, ‘Zuku—“

“You sound so good when you moan my name, sweetheart,” Izuku groans, and you jolt as he tweaks a bud.

“Say it again.”

He pinches your nipple and clit at the same time, and it has your legs kicking as you squeal his name again.

The Izuku growls and it's nothing but feral, and another yelp of his name has him pulling you to your feet to the point where your noses almost touch. Aggravated from being so close before the greenette ripped his fingers away has you scowling.

"Wha—"

"Can I fuck you?" His breath ghosts your lips. You hide your shock by a roll of your eyes.

"Do you always ask stupid questions?"

Izuku hums in contemplation before grabbing you harshly by the jaw, to the point where your cheeks squish into your eyes and your lips pucker. "Say it, Bunny."

"I just sa—"

"Say 'I want you to fuck me, Izuku,'" he says with a cruel snarl. "’Hard.’"

Your eyes dart from his heavy gaze to the statue, and you can't help but feel more fragile than glass. "I litera—"

"Say it, brat."

"I—" you try but nothing comes out, and you blame that darkened stare of his, "I w-want you to fuck me. Izuku."

Izuku inhales sharply, the fingers cradling your face tightening before he speaks again.

"Good girl."

He spins you so your hands lay on the statue's base, yanking your hips back and flipping your dress so your bare ass is exposed to the cool air.

Izuku's palms caress your behind, kneading both globes before he pulls you against his bare cock. (When he took off his pants is beyond you.) He slaps his cock against your clit until you huff in frustration, turning around to shoot him an angry glare.

"Today, Izuku."

The greenette blinks out of his absorbed gaze on your behind in favor of glowering you down. You waver under his glare despite your best efforts.

His cock kisses your entrance and then all of it is in you at once, and his size is enough to make your inner thighs ache from the stretch. You bite your lip in an attempt to muffle a moan, but that crashes and burns fairly quickly.

"O-Oh shi—"

"You said today, didn't you?" Izuku rasps, before pulling out and stuffing you full at a quick and steady pace. Your hands scramble for proper purchase against the statue—without breaking it, for gods sake—but the harder he fucks you into it, the harder it is to stay upright. "Quiet, baby. We're not supposed to be here, remember?"

You nod frantically, teeth digging into your bottom lip. The thought of getting caught, you, of all people, while being railed against a marble statue—

Izuku moans in your ear, a hand moving between your thighs to rub at your clit. "Oh, you tightened when I said that—you like the idea of getting caught, Bunny?"

You respond with a choked moan, thighs quivering with an impending orgasm. Izuku groans as you tighten around him again, but they quickly turn into shushes.

"Bu—"

"I-I know," your voice cracks and it's absolutely pathetic. "But I can't—"

Izuku's hand wraps around your mouth to the point where his fingertips just barely brush your ears. You whine, eyes fluttering as the new grip adjusts the angle ever so slightly, and pushes him so much deeper.

"You're gonna kill me," Izuku says, wheezing out a laugh. "I—fuck Bunny, I'm close."

You whimper behind his hand and nod as if to say me too, and you're sure Izuku understands from the way he groans before he speeds up in all aspects. "Good. G-Good—cum for me baby, I know you can—"

Your toes curl into the marble floor as the coil in your gut snaps, knocking the wind out of you and sending you thrashing in Izuku's arms. You hear the greenette curse and shudder behind you, stuttering hips slowing to an eventual stop. Both of you stand there for a moment, comfortable interrupting the silence with nothing but your heaving breaths.

"You okay?"

You chuckle. It's dry and scratchy, and your lip throbs from biting it so hard, but it isn’t...aggravating, per-se. "You sound worse than me."

Izuku laughs at that, though it waters down as he pulls out with a hiss. "I don't think worse is the correct adjective here, Miss [Y/N].”

You snort. Back to “Miss [Y/N]” it is, then.

Your ears catch the distinct wail of ever-increasing sirens, but you don't think much of it until the side of Izuku's face starts flashing blue and red. Both you and the greenette falter, sharing a look.

"Police! Hands in the air!"

i wrote this while watching a hysterectomy in physio aah (also yes, the french police speak in english leave me alone skjdhfgk) — sun

[lady-of-disdain]

OK! So the Monster Fucker vs Furry Explanation I Promised I'd Write:

(easier to write it up on a blog post and link it in the server)

Gonna put most of this under a cut because it'll be long and lord knows I still have some people who hate stalk my blog, and even though I've never been ashamed to admit I love monsters, I don't want to see this shit on the circus blog or some fuckery like that.

BUT FIRST! There is a Venn Diagram if that helps:

https://editoress.tumblr.com/post/169827724912/hey-i-made-a-chart

SO! Forgive me if I don't have a full grasp on the concept of what a furry is since I don't consider myself one but from what I understand furries are like, just antho dudes right? They are part animal, part human, can range from mammalian to avian, to reptilian and all the rest of the animal kingdom, but usually, they are still just dudes.

Like a guy. Like oh there's my neighbor Tony, he leads the neighborhood watch and he's half tiger.

Like these guys right? They just, go to work, pay their taxes, etc.

~

But when I think of Monsters, I think of creatures generally not a part of normal human society. Whether that be because they are aliens and come from an entirely different planet, or whether that be because they come from a different culture made up exclusively of other monsters, or whether that be because they are from the woods and the wild, from the shadows and mists of the human imagination.

Your typical Monster Boyfriend™ doesn't love you based on something stupid like socially accepted beauty norms, because he's not a part of society.

So while there can be some crossover between monster fuckers and furries because of werewolves:

For the most part, a Monster purist like me might be more attracted to these wolfmen than say Legoshi from above because these wolfmen are more primal. Still sentient, but they don't fit into society and are more likely to just pick you up and carry you out to the woods and away from normal society so you can spend the rest of your days running through the forest and howling at the moon.

Briefly to bring up Sans and where he fits into this topic since I brought him up: Yes, Sans is certainly a Tumblrsexyman, and can be categorized as such, but he also falls into a unique middle category where monster fuckers and tumblrinas might converge.

Most TSM fall into a category of something inhuman also, however, a large part of their TSM status comes from the fact that most of the time those people who are drooling over them have redesigned them into some sort of anime twink. And that's definitely happened plenty for sans, but there is also an entire other side of the sans fanbase (myself included) who love him exclusively as a skeleton monster.

And we're talking fans who go hard into skeleton anatomy, write fics with details about what bones would be the most sensitive for him, and know all the right words for those bones. There is also the aspect that Sans comes from a different monster society. So a lot of people go into what kinds of differences or customs would be different between humans and monsters.

So Sans can definitely straddle the line between the two.

~

Now, I could go on for a while more to talk about more aspects of Furry vs Monster fuckery, but I'll hurry up and bring this to a close with the real reason this question was brought up:

Does the Slug fit more under Monster or Furry fandom:

My first thought was to place him under the monster category. While I'm sure there is probably furry art out there somewhere of anthropomorphic snails and slugs, at the end of this day I think this creature is actually supposed to be an alien? So that would fall more under the territory of monsters. And while not my preference, I know that for some monster fuckers slime beings are a thing.

BUT! From what I've seen of the meme this is the homophobic slug. So this mf can't eat.

So in conclusion, I've changed my mind. He is neither furry nor monster. He's just trash.

[klysanderelias]

I mean to be fair historically a lot of political and social change did in fact work off the fact that the established power base would rather accept reforms rather than capitulate to extremist demands so technically, if you want to change things reliably, there's actually a lot of precedent for having an extremist wing cooperating with a more moderate political structure to drive positive change.

The problem is that 'left disunity' is often (from what I've seen, at least) a code for 'we have failed fundamentally to address the concerns of a group of people who see us as a threat because they don't fit in our worldview.' I've seen a lot of complaints about anarchists that rightfully ask questions like 'if I am disabled or chronically ill, what happens to me in your ideal world?' and the answers are lacking or disturbing - like yeah, a lot of anarchist thinkers have tackled this and much like 'what does a world look like without cops' there's a lot of very good answers, that work has been done, but often not by the people who are arguing methods. If I'm being asked to support a political organization that has no understanding of my needs, it's kind of on that organization to do that work to bring me in instead of expecting me to just blindly hope that when/if they start to make progress, they'll remember that I exist.

But also, as an anarchist, I also know that the state apparatus inherently requires violence to function and even as a 'fellow leftist' I am just as likely to have that violence deployed against me if I dissent, and again, if my needs aren't being represented by the state, do I become disposable in your political structure?

The problem is that 'real friends' and 'real enemies' is a very nebulous distinction when we realize that a lot of the left is made up of marginalized people and just because we've all been marginalized in some way doesn't mean we don't have biases or outright disgust when it comes to other groups. And a lot of this drives political action in a way that we often don't think about. I remember during the 2020 primaries seeing an article about the way that Biden started to overtake the polls, and there's a lot of discussion we could have about that topic but the argument this article made was that older black folks especially were voting for Biden because they simply did not trust white people to do the right thing. That Biden was the 'safe' option because they thought (and maybe correctly) that if it came down to it, white people would vote for a fascist who wouldn't raise taxes than for a progressive who would, regardless of ideology.

And those people aren't the 'enemy', they're people who genuinely do not believe that the high minded leftists would follow through because they've been burned so many times. And like, yeah, there are a lot of organizations that come to mind who, when push came to shove, I would bet money would happily throw me or other marginalized groups into the fire to consolidate power. I'm not partnering with the KS Red Guard, y'know? Regardless of what they claim, I don't trust those mother fuckers an inch.

And arguably the original post is right by saying 'we need to discuss those lines and hammer out unity instead of sniping at each other' but I think the topic of 'left unity' often hides that there's some fucked up assholes out there who are mad that people are against supporting revolution because yes people will die but nothing will change without violence and it's better than the sustained violence it takes to maintain the status quo etc etc but it's very clear that their acceptable casualties include like, all disabled people.

I'm kind of just rambling but over the years, watching some of this discourse go back and forth, a lot of the 'lack of unity' arguments really fail to understand that the right is united partially because they can all agree that SOMEONE should die or be marginalized as an intended outcome, and often marginalized people within that ideology either think that they'll get a pass for being 'one of the good ones' or accept that marginalization because yeah, women should stay in the kitchen and serve their husbands, like God intended me to do.

And that is inherently rejected by leftist ideology, even if not by individual leftist groups, so I'm ideologically opposed to an organization that wants LGBTQ+ rights at the cost of indigenous people, or whatever the flavor of asshole is, and asking me to support them because 'we both want the same thing' just isn't true.

[cassatine]

Regarding the senate representation question, I think your analysis misses something important: space habitats. The advanced life support tech in Star Wars means that folk can live in space indefinitely, for generations even. The idea of having representation based on territory/planets/sectors doesn't really work then. If someone lives on a TF ship, all of their life, no sector senator could really represent them, only a corporate senator. Besides, the TF pays taxes, so shouldn't it have a vote?

Yeah huh maybe you didn’t know but the poor fuckers living in moving company towns are not exactly a salient feature of SW so what can I say? i’m very sorry I didn’t feel like I had to account for their hypothetical existence.

I’ll also say I very much support your right to declare real or fictional legal frameworks unfair; having said that and done my mea culpa, let me remind you that you asked “why you don't think the Senate should have representation for groups like the Trade Federation“, and that half my reply was about the legal argument that in SW canon Senate representation is constitutionally built around geographical entities, period. I pretty much went “well from what we can work out of the constitutional framework it’d actually be illegal for the Trade Federation to have a seat”, and whether you (or I, for that matter) believe that framework is fair to all isn’t really relevant to the way said framework works.

Still, you do bring an interesting question to the table, even if you’re not very imaginative wrt how to solve it. Because there are plenty of ways (however imperfect they may be) to represent the moving company towns inhabitants -- believe it or not, but the set of issues brought by non-stationary space habitats isn’t actually new. You’re basically asking “how do we give representation to nomads”.

And yes, I say “nomads” because time to point it out, but your corporate Senator scheme does not actually ensure representation for all spacers (a handy term for people living their whole lives in non-stationary space habitats), a grave oversight if your concern truly is the representation of people rather than that of corporations: you’re only accounting for people living in moving company towns (and assuming the TF would actually allocate ship space and resources to their retired workers which, excuse me, is kinda loltastic), and ignoring several other possible spacer groups! Shame, dude. What about the people belonging to spacer cultures? The independant contractors? The nomads by choice? They bring the exact same issue to the table (lifelong nomadism in a representative system built around sedentarism) but they sure af can’t be represented by a corporate seat.

(And in any case, att the risk of repeating myself, a corporate Senator represents the corporation’s interests, not the workers’. It’s in the interests of the workers to have decent salaries and work hours, paid holidays, health and retirement plans, etc etc; it’s in the interests of the corporation to slash all that to maximize profits. That’s like, Capitalism 101.

So my friend, my dude, my darling ayn rand stan -- if you were really actually concerned about workers, you’d be arguing for Senate seats for workers’ unions rather than for the corporate overlords. You’d be arguing they know their interests better than said corporate overlords, that in fact suggesting those overlords know better is a classic classist stance long used to argue for the disenfranchisement of the poor and the working class.)

Anyway, here are some ideas to ensure representation for those Trade Federation workers (and other spacers) living in non-stationary space habitats you’re so very concerned about:

Jus sanguinis: spacers are represented by the Senator(s) of whichever sector(s) their parents come from. Or they grandparents, or their great-grandparents, whatever.

Alternatively: they’re represented by the Sen. of the sector they were born into. 

In the context of regular ship routes, their Sen. is the one from the sector where they spend the most time

Alternatively: the space equivalent of multiple nationalities applies and people are technically represente by the Sen. of each sector their route take them to.

Alternatively: people get to choose which sector they’re members of out of those their route take them to.

if we gotta go with non-sector seats... UNIONS THAT’S FUCKING OBVIOUS OMFG I cannot believe you have the galls to play the “Im so concerned about workers :(” card and your fucking solution is arguing for the corporate overlords getting CORPORATE SEATS instead of pushing for UNION SEATS. The only way you can argue for a corporate Sen. over an union one is if you’re playing the card that the corporation knows the workers’ interests better than they do themselves, which, eew. (listen I’m tired and I’m not arguing this. meet me in a denny’s parking lot if you feel strongly about it)

some kinda combination of the above.

Alternatively, your choice, I can’t have covered all options

btw, if we can deal with multiple nationalities on one fucking planet, you bet they can do the equivalent at the federal level in fictional space pseudo-republic

AND NOW THE KICKER

Besides, the TF pays taxes, so shouldn't it have a vote?

Wrong audience, you right-winger, you neocon, you ayn rand stan. Also super confusing, considering we were talking about Senate seats and not voting rights. I’m so fucking lost -- do I have to explain the difference between a Sen. seat and a vote, seriously, I’d just about call it a day.

Anyway I’d ask what is it with people equating paying taxes and voting rights, but I see the pendent to your shitty take regularly among wannabe libertarian reformers of democracy: the idea is to have an income tax-based property qualification system because really, why should the people who don’t contribute (the tax-exempt poor) get a say? Fuck the poor, and let’s pretend it’s all in the name of democracy.

Look, the version of democracy I buy into does not link citizenship to one’s ability to pay taxes, and that’s really the simplest way I can say it. I believe all the members of a community should get a say in the way that community leads its affairs, not just the members who can afford to contribute monetarily.

Also like. Even if I were to give you the taxes = rights point. Even in a pseudo-democracy with a property qualification system in which one’s voting rights are linked to one’s ability to pay taxes... a corporation is not a citizen.

[hearthandhomemagick]

Major PSA Some of Y'all Obviously Weren't Taught

BULLYING IS BULLYING NO MATTER HOW MANY EXCUSES YOU TRY TO USE TO VALIDATE YOUR BULLYING. IF YOU FEEL AS THOUGH BULLYING SOMEONE IS THE ONLY WAY TO GET WHAT YOU WANT FROM THEM THEN YOU NOT ONLY HAVE SEVERE POWER AND CONTROL ISSUES, BUT YOU ARE ALSO MANIPULATIVE AND A FUCKING CRUEL INDIVIDUAL.

NO, JUST BECAUSE YOU WOULDN'T BE HURT BY IT DOESN'T MEAN OTHER PEOPLES FEELINGS ARE INVALID

I JUST SAW A VIDEO OF AN INTERRACIAL COUPLE DANCING. The woman was a bit stiff, but was enjoying the company of the man who was attractive and fully capable of dancing. NEARLY ALL OF THE COMMENTS WERE MAKING FUN OF HER FOR BEING STIFF OR MAKING HARMFUL COMMENTS ABOUT THE WOMANS WAIST, HOW SHE DIDN'T DESERVE TO BE WITH THAT MAN. HOW "IT LOOKS LIKE TAX SEASON".

YES BELIEVING THAT WOMAN DOESN'T NEED TO BE WITH HIM BECAUSE YOU ARE "A BETTER FIT" AND "KNOW HOW TO HANDLE HIM" IS BULLYING, SELFISH AND NARCICISTIC AF. YES, MAKING JOKES ABOUT HOW SHE DANCES, OR DOESN'T DANCE, IS FUCKING BULLYING. AS LONG AS THEY ARE HAPPY IT'S NO ONES FUCKING BUSINESS. AND AN ENTIRE COMMENT SECTION OF 100+ BULLIES COULD CAUSE SEVERE MENTAL DAMAGE TO ANYBODY, INCLUDING YOUR FUCKING SELF.

I THEN SEEN A POST OF A PERSON TRYING TO OUT A MAN AS HOMOESEXUAL BECAUSE HE WAS POSTING UP WITH A GIRL AND DENYING HE WAS HOMOESEXUAL. HAVE WE LOST OUR FUCKING MARBELS SO MUCH SO THAT OUR SUSPICIONS COME BEFORE THE PERSONS ENTIRE LIFE???? HAVE WE REALLY ALLOWED PEOPLE TO VALIDATE OUTING SOMEONE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT BE HOMOSEXUAL JUST BECAUSE THEIR SUSPICION TRUMPS THE SAFETY OF THE INDIVIDUAL BEING QUESTIONED??? NO BODY OWES YOUR THEIR FUCKING SEXUALITY, NOR DO THEY OWE YOU AN EXPLANATION FOR WHY THEY ARE SEXUAL. AND THEY ARE NOT HOMOPHOBIC FOR NOT BEING OUT OF THE CLOSET, MOTHER FUCKER. YOU ARE HOMOEPHOBIC AF FOR THINKING THE BEST ROUTE OF ACTION TO OUT SOMEONES SEXUALITY ASSUMING THEY WILL STILL GO HOME SAFE AT THE END OF THE NIGHT SHOULD THEIR FAMILY FIND OUT.

POPULAR POSTERS ON HERE STRAIGHT UP NEGLECTING OTHER PEOPLES EMOTIONS AND CONSIDERING THEM INVALID WITHOUT EVEN EXPLAINING PERSPECTIVE AND SUCH. WHEN SOMEONE COMES TO YOU OUT OF, "Hey, I really feel this way and wanted to talk to someone about it...can you talk to me about it? I want to understand. Please ignore this if you aren't comfortable talking about it." AND YOUR KNEE JERK REACTION IS TO STRIAGHT UP INSULT THEM FOR COMING TO YOU AT ALL, RATHER THAN GUIDING THEM IN A PROPER CONVERSATION WHEN THEY ARE TRYING TO UNDERSTAND AND LEARN, THEN YOU ARE A FUCKING BULLY AND WILL PUSH PEOPLE AWAY FROM TRYING TO GROW BECAUSE YOU APPROACHED IT IN A FUCKED UP MANNER.

NO, YOUR TRAUMAS DO NOT GIVE YOU THE FUCKING RIGHT TO INTENTIONALLY BULLY OR HURT SOMEONE, EXPECIALLY IF THEY WERE NOT THE REASON YOU GOT FUCKING HURT. NO, MAKING OUTING POSTS DOES NOT MAKE YOUR MORALITY SUPERIOR JUST BECAUSE SOMEONE HURT YOUR FEELINGS. NO, TALKING SHIT ABOUT PEOPLE AND CONVINCING PEOPLE TO STAY AWAY FROM THEM WHEN THEY CANNOT REPLY TO YOU IS NOT HEALTHY, IT'S SOCIALLY ABUSIVE, AND IS NOT OKAY. NO, YOU CANNOT PUSH BLAME ONTO OTHERS FOR YOUR OWN REACTIONS TO SITUATIONS. YOU MAY ONLY BLAME PEOPLE FOR THE ACTIONS THEY CHOOSE TO TAKE. AND NO, BEING A BULLY AT ANY CAPACITY IS NOT A FUCKING FLEX, NOR IS IT FUNNY.

IT'S LITERALLY THE REASON PEOPLE KILL THEMSELVES, YOU UNDERSTAND? WITHIN A 30 MINUTE TIMESPAN, I HAVE SEEN VASTLY POPULAR MEME ACCOUNTS STRAIGHT UP TURN TO BULLYING WHEN THEY HAVE ZERO FUNNY SHIT TO ACTUALLY SAY. AND THEN THEIR FOLLOWERS BLINDLY BULLY BEHIND THEM AS IF THE PERSON ON THE SCREEN ISN'T A REAL PERSON. AS IF THEIR LAUGHTER IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE PERSON THEY HURT.

DON'T BE A FUCKING BULLY. THERE ARE WAYS TO COMMUNICATE THINGS TO PEOPLE. THERE ARE WAYS TO BE A DECENT HUMAN BEING TO SOMEONE WHO MAKES A MISTAKE AND IS SIMPLY WANTING TO GROW FROM IT. THERE ARE WAYS YOU CAN MOVE ON AND BE MUCH HAPPIER WITH YOUR LIFE BY NOT BEING SUCH A DICK TO OTHER PEOPLE.

IF YOU DON'T LEARN WHEN PEOPLE ARE BEING DICK'S OR ASSHOLES, THEN DON'T BE THE THING YOU DESPISE.