#who? ta-*gunshots*

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

Karkat: I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY PEOPLE THINK STRAIGHT ALLIES ARE GAY.

Karkat: LIKE JUST BECAUSE I SUPPORT ANIMAL RIGHTS DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING ALPACA TO YOU

*some time later*

Karkat: SO IT TURNS OUT I AM GAY

Aradia: diversity win! the alpaca is gay! 0u0

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 28

part 1 | part 27 | bonus stobin scene | ao3

cw: anxiety attack, graphic thoughts of death

Chapter 7

Steve's mom leaves the week before Thanksgiving.

No preamble, no notice, no "so long and thanks for paying rent," just— poof. Gone. Ta-ta, kiddo. Have a great life!

(Or don't!

Who cares?

Not me, that's for sure!)

The worst part is Steve finds out from Ernie of all people. Ma couldn’t even tell him to his face that she’s abandoning him to the gaping maw of this hellish town because she’s a good-for-nothing coward. Some day this place is gonna swallow him whole, splinter the bones and cough up the pellet, and Florence Harrington will be somewhere far, far away, sighing empty condolences over a fresh glass of red. “Just dreadful, isn’t it? Such a pity; what a shame.”

Steve’s hanging towels on the clothes line the day after the party — after the ride to drop off Max and the hangover brunch with Robin; after drowning his headache in Tylenol and finally getting home, only to realize that he can’t shower yet because all the towels are soaking wet — when Ernie looks up from his yardwork and casually ruins his goddamn life.

“You're wastin' your time with that,” he says, propping his weight against a rake and squinting at Steve in the mid-afternoon sun.

“What?” Steve frowns; hangs another towel. It's not like they're going to dry themselves. "Why?"

"Too cold."

"It's not supposed to rain, though, is it?"

"No, but the humidity—"

Screw the humidity. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

Ernie shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

He turns his attention back to his yard, dragging the rake over a smattering of damp leaves; obsessed with keeping his little patch of lawn pristine; and Steve reaches into the hamper and sincerely hopes that Ernie’s wrong. He needs a shower, and if the towels don't dry fast enough they get that gross mildew smell to them, and then it gets in Steve's hair, and how is he supposed to flirt with Eddie if he smells like musty lake water?

"Where's your mom off to, anyway?" Ernie asks after a moment. "Saw her leave this morning with two big suitcases,” he explains when Steve throws him a questioning look. “Figured she was off somewhere nice.”

Steve blanches.

Two big suitcases?

He didn’t even notice that she wasn’t here. Feels like a stupid, selfish asshole now, because he’d called ‘ma, I’m home!’ when he got in earlier and had thought nothing of her complete lack of response, the peaceful silence of the house; had welcomed it at the time, even, and what if—

Oh, god, what if she’d died?

What if she’d been lying there dead in her room, and Steve didn’t bother to check because he was too busy thinking about himself and how nice it was not to hear reruns on the TV for once? How long would she have lain there, rotting and bloated, and— and how long would his dad have, if the gunshot hadn’t rung out? How long; how long? Bleeding out on the carpet gurgling fish sounds everything red and Steve can’t breathe—

“Did she—?” he pants. Brings a hand to his throat; tries again. “Did you- see who she left with?”

“Some woman. Relative of yours, maybe? I didn’t get a good look at her. Had a real fancy car, though. Mercedes, think it was.”

Steve chokes on his own spit. Feels his throat close up, his heart pound and his ears ring and the yellow-purple-black start creeping in like vines at the edge of his vision, like demogorgon claws; like death’s shark-toothed grin. Hungry, howling, happy as it takes a bite out of him.

“You alright?” Ernie asks.

Steve grinds his jaw so hard he feels something crack. "Excuse me," he grits out, stomping back into the house.

—

"Fuck!" Steve shouts to his empty house — to the sun-faded paneling, to the weird stain in the orange carpet. Fucking Cecelia; fucking hell.

He cleans the house in a rage, eyes hot with unshed tears, and there's a note on the breakfast table. Crisply folded on plain paper, prim cursive letters, almost comically estranged:

Steven,

Apologies for short notice. Gone to stay with Aunt Cece in Evanston. Call or visit if you like.

— Mom

P.S. Happy Thanksgiving

The words leave papercuts in his throat. Steve rips the note to tiny pieces, can hardly see for the tears swimming in his eyes, but he's not crying over this; he's not. He fucking refuses.

Somewhere along the way, the cleaning turns to blind destruction, demolition of the all the little scraps of life mom left behind: her creepy angel figurines, her vintage Pyrex dishes, an empty bottle of old perfume. Steve hurls them all against the living room wall, delights in the shimmering pile of broken glass at his bare feet. Wants to crawl over it on hands and knees. Wants to burn this place to the ground.

When the sun dips below the trees he goes back out to check the towels. The air is wet, bitterly cold; nips at his hands when the wind blows, and the towels hang heavy on the line, just as damp as before but now the slightest bit stiff with the first creep of frost.

"FUCK!" Steve roars, ripping a towel down off the line. Yanking each one down in turn, throwing them into the dirt, raging, "What! Is! The fucking! Point!"

His tears spill over then, hot and wet as he sinks to his knees with a wounded growl, and he chokes there in the dirt; the cold, wet mud, the patchy grass. Gravel digs into his shins, and sobs wrack his chest, capsize him like plunging waves, and he can't do anything but shake and cry where the whole neighborhood can see. Making a commotion; making a scene, as his mother would say, but his mother's not here. She fucking left. She left him here, and his dad did, too, and Steve is utterly, truly, hopelessly alone.

"Come on, son."

And there’s Wayne Munson, coaxing him up off the ground with a sure, strong grip. Steve makes animal sounds as Wayne lifts him under the arms — ruined hiccups, mangled wails. There's mud in his lungs. Ocean silt; sucking sludge.

His mother's gone.

"Easy now," Wayne shushes; hugs him hard against his side. "You're alright, kid. You're alright."

—

part 29

tag list under separate reblogs, comment if you’re over 21 and want to be added tomorrow

[nytehavyn-circle]

Main blog for @wayward-roleplays

Nadia stumbled on a piece of pavement that was uneven, yelling as she goes down. Her left hand clutching the part of her sternum as blood slips in between her fingers. She had been shot and she was trying to find help.

Once she's able to find her footing she manages to stand and walk another 50 feet before collapsing in an alleyway.

Tolaas had heard a gunshot and immediately started running in the direction it came from. He was one of those people who stupidly ran toward danger instead of away from it. But it was how he was. If someone needed help, he would try to be there. So the gunshot called him in that direction, instead of scaring him to run the opposite way.

He slowed his running when his nose caught the scent of fresh blood. He searched around and sent his feelers out. Someone was hurt. He followed the scent of blood and his feelers and was led to an alleyway.

"Shhhit," he whispered when he saw the woman lying there. He knelt down and grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket. he folded it and pressed it hard against the wound. "Hey, hey, darlin'? Ya 'wake? Want me ta call a ambulance?" He could tell by her aura she had power. But what kind, he wasn't sure. Witch, maybe? Witches auras looked mostly the same as regular people's, but they seemed to 'throb' more than a regular person's. He didn't know what kind of magic she had, but it apparently wasn't serious healing magic.

Tolaas said again, "D'ya want me ta call a ambulance? Can ya hear me?"

@wayward-roleplays

[pygmi-cygni]

sick bug - orderly!blue jones

i haven't written any orderly blue jones because he's spooky but i tried! so ta da...

thinking of doing a sickfic series lmk

cw: literally this is like ooc but also...not. idk it's weird. blue behavior, mentions of vomit. fluffy? reader's gender is not specified

There had been a bug going around the bunks. It had started with Hanna, who gave it to Sweet Pea, who gave it to Baby, and on and on until everyone had gotten it at least once. The nurse's office was packed and coughing could be heard echoing in the halls.

Your eyes felt gluey when you woke up that morning. A humming throb sloshed around your head, and it sounded like you were underwater. Sinus pressure gave you an eye twitch.

Great.

Weakly you rolled over, sending the room into cartwheels. You winced, waiting for the dizziness to subside. The throb was stronger, beating in time with your heart.

The bunk room was empty. Shit. An orderly would be in there soon to shove you to breakfast. Just don't be Blue. Please, anyone

A whistling tune grew eerily louder as somebody approached. Ave Maria.

Blue.

You wanted to cry, but the pressure on your eyes only allowed for a pathetic sniffle. The vertigo was so bad you couldn't even sit up. As long as you don't throw up you'll be okay. Just breathe. Hardly. Your nose was stuffed and sandpaper rasped in the back of your throat.

The whistling had stopped but his footsteps were loud. A dim feeling of dread crept up your chest - or was that the nausea?

You could feel him behind you and you curled into a tighter ball.

"Come on, be a good pet and get up," he said loftily, saccharine tone sending shivers down your back. "Good pets get their breakfast."

You went limp in defeat. Breakfast sounded like a terrible idea.

A hand prodded your shoulder, first soft, then firm. Inside you were sobbing, but your face betrayed nothing but slack misery. Maybe if you played dead he'd leave you alone.

Blue whistled lowly and slammed his foot against the frame of your bed. The resulting bang sent splintering pain through your skull. Without the strength to support yourself, you rolled of the edge and collided heavily with the side table.

Your body was in a world of hurt. Not even a gunshot could clear your head. Pain radiated from every joint, and an encroaching fever was burning your insides up. A garbled moan scratched your sore throat and you blinked blearily at the man above you.

"You fuckin' sick too? Goddamn, what the-" muttering, Blue wiped his upper lip and leaned down, pressing harshly against your forehead. His hand was rough but cool, and you leaned forward into the slight comfort. He hissed and reared back.

"Don't."

You shuddered, a wave of nausea crashing into you. With a sudden cough, you spat bile onto the floor, quaking and choking at the sudden reaction. Blue swore and stepped back.

"God fuckin'- hang on, hang on," he swore again and stepped around the puddle, roughly leaning your head forward. "Don't choke on it, it'll get worse." His grip was strong on the back of your throat, and you felt another tide coming in.

He stood behind you, grimacing, until you sagged backwards, exhausted. Your stomach felt better, but the rush of endorphins had worsened the headache. Water, please.

A thick finger crammed into your mouth, clearing out all the sick from behind your tongue. You coughed weakly and grimaced as Blue wiped his hand on the sheets.

"You get any of that in the wrong pipe and you're screwed. Don't move." he stepped over you, face twisted in irritation.

Through a haze of dizziness you saw him disappear down the hall. Your head thumped dejectedly against the bedframe. You whimpered and pressed closer against the cold metal, aching for comfort. A slurry of voices and the smell of saline made you hum but sleep was looking very attractive and-

a warm darkness pulsed against your eyelids, easing the ache in your head. it felt nice. you tried to open your eyes and feel around, but the dark was heavy. your limbs felt shaky and you flopped down. laying here wouldn't be so bad.

oh.

a sliver of white light needled through the center. bright. wow, very bright. brighter brighter

You hiccupped awake, sneezing violently. A different set of papery sheets rustled around your sweaty legs. An IV was jammed in your wrist, the injection site aching red. You'd been put in the farthest bed from anyone else, tucked away in a dimly lit corner of the grimy medical hall.

The fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered. You sniffled, wishing for a tissue. At least the sinus pressure had lessened - but now you had a constant drip.

it was cold.

You curled up against the wall, wrapping yourself tight in the thin sheets. The fever was almost preferable, at least your blood hadn't felt frozen solid.

The nausea had also subsided, but your stomach rumbled uneasily. Whimpering, you peeked around the dividing curtain.

A set of beady eyes peeked back. You shrieked and fumbled backwards, hacking and coughing at the sudden burst of noise. Your throat had not recovered, a feeling akin to shredded metal stinging your tongue. Wincing, you wiped your eyes.

Blue raised his eyebrows, one hand parting the curtain.

"Boo," he deadpanned, smirking at your watery eyes. Mouth falling flat again, he slid a tray along the floor. A glass of water and a bowl of something rattled gently along the linoleum.

You stared numbly. It was for you. You were hungry. You should eat. But lead coated your arms and you were content to lie listlessly until unconsciousness swept over you. It was better than being cold, achey and awake.

Blue did not like this plan, evidently. He planted his hands on his hips and raised a dark eyebrow.

"Go on," he urged, "eat."

Your hand twitched, but you settled, favoring sleep. He sighed again and snapped twice.

"Come on, pet, I'm not paid to watch you like a hawk."

So you just do it for fun? You mumbled out an incoherently half-hearted response, wishing he'd leave you to your misery.

He grinned tightly. "Good. Your mouth does work. Now come on, let's go. I got shit to do. Need me to spoon feed you?" He pitched the last part menacingly, voice twisted in mock sympathy.

You sent him what was hopefully a glare but more resembled a pathetic pout.

He huffed and shoved the curtain closed. You sighed at his receding footsteps, closing your eyes.

A sharp grip wrenched under your arms and you yelped, roughly shoved against the wall. Blue glared, pointing a menacing finger.

"Stay."

He pulled up a chair and tossed an empty bowl on your cot. "If you throw up, do it in there. You ruined my last pair of scrubs."

From your cowering position against the wall, you realized he was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Blue grabbed your tray and put it on his lap, then leveled you with an expectant stare.

"Wh..." you wet your lips and tried again. "What're you doing?"

He sighed through his nose. "You wanna act like a baby, you get treated like a baby. Open up, here comes the airplane and all that."

Carefully he spooned up - oatmeal? - and gestured at you to eat. You peered at him, suddenly realizing he was serious.

Glumly, you swallowed a bite and tried not to choke. God, just some water please. Your throat was stuck together like glue. Blue recognized your shaking ribs and tipped the glass to your mouth, carefully making sure he didn't accidentally waterboard you. Once your throat felt clear, you nodded and he spooned up another bite.

You felt like a scolded child being forced to eat your vegetables. Blue's hand was steady on your jaw, holding your weak neck in place. His gaze wasn't...angry, but you still felt uneasy.

He paused halfway through the bowl.

"Gonna puke?"

You thought about it, and shook your head. Grunting, he fed you the last of the bowl and wiped the mess from your cheek. You accepted the rest of your water, finally calm enough to hold it yourself.

Clutching the empty cup to your chest, you watched perplexedly as Blue unfolded a new blanket and tucked it up around your shoulders. He turned your face left and right, feeling your forehead. Satisfied, he sat back and folded his hands in his lap.

You waited for him to say something. Blue stared back, eyes dark and placid. He wasn't angry. Didn't seem very scary either. Tentatively, you placed the glass on the tray and laid down, eyes on him the whole time. You tensed when he shifted, then relaxed when he stayed far away.

"Twitchy little thing, hm?" he remarked drily. You pulled the blanket up to your nose, peering at him with round eyes. His eyebrow twitched.

"I scare you a bit, huh, pet?" He bared his teeth. A glimmering smile came and went across your face.

Blue poked your leg with his toe.

"Do it again, that was funny. Come on, do it." He kept prodding you like a pet snake. You fought a smile and hid your giggle in the folds of cotton. He caught the twinkle in your eye and relented his teasing. You settled against the pillows, eyes heavy.

The lights flickered on and off.

When they flickered, then dipped a few levels dimmer, you went rigid, eyes huge. Blue slid his gaze over to you, head tilted.

"Scared of the dark?" His voice was quiet and silky. You didn't acknowledge him, mentally preparing yourself for the next blink of darkness.

He waited, then shifted closer, eyelashes almost brushing yours.

"Tell you a secret," he whispered. You blinked expectantly, staring into his deep brown irises.

"Promise not to tell?"

You nodded quickly. He smiled, teeth glowing pearly in the dark.

"Me too." His nose gently booped yours, before he leaned back against the rickety chair.

You felt warm at the admission, just a little secret.

The lights blinked again.

He winked, flicking a knife out of his pocket and twirling it in his palm.

"The monster's not gonna get you, pet."

this was not fluffy at all but you delulus are so obsessed you don't even care (it's me i'm delulus) also hilarious i posted my writing schedule and then Did Not follow it.

tags!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @krakenkitty @bulletgoth

comment to join xox

[weird-dere-writes]

Implied Latina reader <3

Imagining if Boothill began to have a rival of sorts 😏

Our Space Ranger is simply minding his business as he travels the galaxy trying to take down the IPC. He’s always on the hunt of course. He begins to notice though how more and more, a specific someone ends up going after the same bounties he does. It is purely by coincidence in actuality, but he begins to wonder if this is purposeful. If he’s being tracked or something.

It is of no threat to him, as he knows his way around gunshots and gallant conflict. But it does make him grind his teeth at times. Especially if the bounty is nabbed just before he gets the chance.

And who is it that torments our celestial cowboy so? He hasn’t yet learned her name or even an alias. But in what some would call a funny and he a bothersome turn of events, she would come to be called the Stellar Ranchera.

Sneaky little thing, she is. Always keeping things on the downlow until she’s on the heels of her bounty. Then… then is when everything becomes a show. She’s just as flashy and confident as he is, if not more in these moments. And those who catch wind of it, seem to snicker at the thought that Boothill finally begins to have a taste of what it is like to deal with him.

The first time the two come into contact, face to face, while going after the same bounty is quite interesting. When they realize who one another is, she smiles, and he pouts. They’re both running fast, jumping over obstacles, running against walls, doing flips and all as they try to out hunt the other, one phrase ringing in both of their minds.

‘The bounty is mine.’

‘The bounty is mine.’

As the chase goes on though, they start to focus more and more and each other rather than their target. The goal becomes to confront, outwit, and outperform one another.

The bounty is long forgotten as the two use a space to duke it out. Boothill is slinging his guns. The Ranchera, though she has a gun, prefers other tools. Her main weapon of choice is a whip. The other weapons she used were crossed in holsters on the back of her hips. Two machetes.

For a human, Boothill had to admit she was pretty adept at dodging bullets. Had his thoughts not been clouded with the want to defeat her, he would have said she did it beautifully.

The more the two went for each other, the more this battle seemed to be like a dance. Attacking and dodging strikes and blows in perfect sync. Twisting and turning and jumping and narrowly yet masterfully just missing one another. It’s quite the sight to behold. Though they seem to think identically, it almost seems she’s flawlessly antithetical him with every move. It didn’t help she seemed to be enjoying it more than anything; yelling these things he couldn’t understand. Something like… Bail? And… ‘hey so’. Or somethin’.

Amidst the fight, she manages to steal both his pistols using that handy whip.

“Not bad, for a southern boy.”

Boothill stops his pursuit momentarily and stares as she flips his gun around her hand like a true sharpshooter.

“And what am I t’ take that ta mean, Miss?”

She shrugs, “Oh it’s nothing against you, vaquero. ‘Sides, I’m kinda southern too. In another way.”

“Back-a-what?? Anyway, why’re you so intent on nabbin my bounties, nice lady?”

“I think I should be asking you that, actually. Not that you’d answer, pretty boy. Clearly these marks have my name on them.”

“Well,” he chuckles humorlessly, the pet name sliding right past his attention, “I’ll be forked. Didn’t know you could just claim whatever prize you wanted. It was my understandin’, that it ain’t yers ‘til ya catch it.”

“Maybe brush up on your knowledge then, eh?”

There’s only an annoyed chuckle as a response before he lunges at her. She again dodges as he grabs at her; gaining enough distacne for him to start using that built in gun in his arm. She only laughs as the onslaught continues. She fires a few rounds herself, from his guns she stole.

As fun as this was, she did have someone to catch that was still getting away. In an act that surprised him, she tossed his guns back to him. Landing somewhere with a smirk on her face. When he shakes off his stupor, that smirk of his appears on his face.

“Awwww, did you feel bad fer lil’ ol’ me?”

“Oh pobrecito, no, of course not,” she coos, clearly mocking him before a smirk returns to her face. His own smirk turned into an annoyed frown again.

“I just have things to do, is all. Until next time, I suppose.”

And with that, she runs off before he can stop her. He stands there for a few moments looking after her; thoughts that are confused, annoyed curious, and more filling his head.

He sighs as he holds one of his guns up to inspect it, “Darn target muncher…”

Where’d she have to be anyways?

It took a few moments for his own words to click in his head.

“Shoot! The bounty!!”

[ash-and-starlight]

Books of 2023

the list nobody asked for <3

My reading habits had gone a bit stagnant in the past couple of years so this year i made the effort to engage in reading again and wow books really are good!! who would have thought! Sharing this year's book log with the small reviews i did while reading yeah i am That kind of list lover if u feel like being nosy, (and maybe even help mi crowdsource reading recs based on my likes 👀🤲?)

The left Hand of Darkness - Ursula K. Le Guin Ursula i Need to know your thoughts on omegaver- [gunshot] THAT ASIDE yeah. mrs Le Guin you've done it again. I can see why everyone got their brain chemistry altered by this book.

The Membranes - Chi Ta-Wei another brain chemistry altering book. would love to discuss it with a gender studies major lmao

Satanic Verses - Salman Rushdie its a v atmospheric and poignant story, I know I would have loved it more if I was familiar with the rich religious/cultural background it draws from

The Masquerade Series - Seth Dickinson Crazy insane in the membrane about this series. one of the most compelling worldbuildings I've ever seen, and most importantly it features one of the most crazy wet pathetic scrunkly meow meow protagonists i've ever had the pleasure of reading about.

Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides i liked the writing style of this book a lot! idk how well it holds up re: intersexuality topic, but its a very engaging read.

Dead Blondes and Bad Mothers: Monstrosity, Patriarchy, and the Fear of Female Power - Jude Ellison, Sady Doyle The title says it all honestly, its a beautiful, thought provoking and engaging essay, spanning eras, pop culture phenomenons, and real life events on the topic of women and horror.

The cat who saved books - Sōsuke Natsukawa this was so cute and heartfelt, it will really make you go Ah Yes, this is Why we Love Books <333

The Locked Tomb Series - Tamsyn Muir now when people say there is a girl who is the cursed sacrifice of 2000 infants who falls in love with the sleeping embodiment of the soul of the Earth (barbie) and also another girl who is the only survivor of the aforementioned sacrifice and is. a Jesus metaphor? and also the two girls become one at some point. and every book is a different genre. and god is bisexual. and memes survived the nuclear apocalypse. I can just nod and say so true.

The Area X Trilogy - Jeff VanderMeer Rotating this series in the microwave of my mind at the speed of light it's soSO GOOD!! the movie doesn't even come close honestly u NEED to read the books. and then go touch grass and be aware of every strand in a completely new way.

The Dawn of Yangchen - F. C. Yee nice read! I was more invested in the worldbuilding crumbs than in the actual story lmao, I will forever think about the HEATED airball rivalry between the air temples and about the swt greetings / bethrotal armbands.

Inuit Stories of Being and Rebirth: Gender, Shamanism, and the Third Sex - Bernard Saladin d'Anglure starting w a disclaimer bc I feel like the topic of native colonization was ignored when it should have been way more prominent when talking about the context of where and when these testimonies were collected?? That aside it was very interesting and well put together, with first account testimonies of Inuit elders about their myths, lifestyles and beliefs.

Pachinko - Min Jin Lee i read the book after having seen the tv series (which i also rlly recommend). Very moving story about a family and its generations, from Korea under Japanese colonization to modern day America.

Her body and other parties - Carmen Maria Marchado sometimes I go about my day then I remember this book exists and stare at the wall for 30 minutes.

Dictionnaire de l'impossible - Didier Van Cauwelaert big miss. this collection of articles about "strange impossible phenomenons" sounded so quirky and interesting but i sure would have loved if the author hadnt so clearly picked a side. and also way too much church for my tastes.

He who Drowned the World - Shelley Parker Chan Im not even gonna speak about this one if you've followed me since july you know what pits of insanity and despair i'm in

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow - Gabrielle Zevin Sometimes!! the book with pretty covers put in the "famous on socials" bookstore section!! are good!! It's about being othered it's about connection it's about diaspora it's about love and friendship and most of all it's about viddy games.

Station Eleven - Emily St. John Mandel reading this post-covid and learning it was written in 2017 was A TRIP. Psychic damage at every page. still feeling very normla.

The Mask of Apollo - Mary Renault Ugh i desperately wanted to like this book because the setup is so interesting and full of potential, but the end result was just. flat. flat story flat characters the plot focusing on the wrong things at the wrong times i was so DONE when i reached the end otz.

Babel - R. F. Kuang LOVED the worldbuilding in this, the "lost in translation" system of magic is one of the most interesting things ive ever read. I think theres something about the writing in general that didn't win me over completely?? but all in all a very good

Red Ocean - Han Song This sure is a Book. That i've Read. its so profundly strange and unlike anything ive come across that i dont even know what to feel about it. i think 90% of my confusion comes from Not Getting Cultural References so if someone has a "red ocean explained" essay plz send it my way bc i couldnt find one.

[roses-r-rosie3]

Ethan Landry x male reader

Reader is apart of the core four (five?) and none of them would suspect him. Especially not with how close he is to Tara and Mindy. They would beat anyone up for even suggesting it.

But his new boyfriend? He knows the truth. The reader would do anything for him. Absolutely anything.

And Ethan is the same. He would probably kill his father if he asked him to.

What if they successfully kill Tara and Sam because of the reader? Because the sisters still thought that he was on their side till the very end. Only being revealed that he wasn’t in Sam’s last breath.

Screwed Up And Brilliant

Ethan Landry x M!Reader

Warnings: angst and swearing

Quote: “Come on Sam! I expected more from you! Who do you think attacked you in the break room, Who do you think helped Amber kill Wes!”

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

“What’s happening!” Said y/n as what remained of the group ran into the main area.

“It’s Kirby! She’s the killer!” Said Sam.

“No shit” Chad said as he ran to the door to try and open it.

“It’s locked” said Sam.

“We’re trapped?!” Said y/n.

“She made this whole theater a kill box, for us” said Sam.

“Hey what about that! There’s an exit door! Maybe it leads to the roof or something” said Tara

“There’s only one way to find out, let’s go let’s go” said Chad.

“Bailey’s on the way but-”

Sam was cut off by one of the masked killers jumping out of nowhere to attack them. Both Sam and Tara ducked as the killer swiped at them. But y/n wasn’t so lucky as the killer slayed his arm, but Chad quickly tackled the killer to the ground and hit them with a nearby camera.

“This way!” Tara pointed to the narrow hallway.

As the group ran the killer wasn’t too far behind them. But Chad threw the Camera at the killer, giving them enough time to run into the snack area.

As the killer came back into the room, they tried to attack Chad but Tara and Sam quickly took their arms, giving Chad the opportunity the punch them. As ghostface was on the ground Tara quickly kicked them.

“Go, Go!” Said Chad As he tried to smash a gumball machine on top of the killer’s head.

But all of a sudden another killer appeared out of nowhere to stab Chad.

“No! Chad!” Screamed Tara as Sam and y/n held her back.

“Go” said chad as blood was spewing from his mouth as he collapsed to the ground.

Ghostface did the knife swipe to clean their blades as y/n, Sam, and Tara ran into the middle of the room.

As the group ran back into the main area the ghostaface’s surrounded them giving them nowhere to run. Sam picked up some bricks to give to Tara and y/n.

“Ready?” Sau over Tara’s sobs.

“I need you two to be ready! Ready? Look at me” said Sam.

“We’re ready” said y/n.

“Come on motherfucker!” Tara yelled.

But all of a sudden gunshots were heard as the two killers fled the scene.

“It’s okay!” Said Kirby who was all bloody.

“Stay the fuck back!” Said Sam

“We know it’s you Kirby” said Tara.

“No, one of them knocked me out” said Kirby.

“Kirby stop! Get away from them!” Said Wayne as he stepped into the room.

“What are you doing?” Said Kirby.

“Did you kill Quinn? Did you kill my daughter!” Said Bailey.

“Jesus Christ” said Kirby.

“What ever he has been saying to you, don’t listen to him, he’s probably the killer” said Kirby.

All of a sudden a ghostface appeared behind Bailey.

“Behind you!” Said Kirby.

As Wayne shot at Kirby. All of a sudden the ghostface stopped behind Bailey as y/n, Tara, and Sam looked at each other in shock.

“Great job, both of you” said Wayne.

“You?” Said Sam.

“Eeh, of course me, frankly I expected more from the three of you after what you did to us” said Bailey.

“What do you mean us?” Said y/n.

Ethan unmasked himself as ghostface. Y/n looked like he was about to cry.

“Ta-da” said Bailey.

“Surprised baby? Mindy was right it was easy to juke the roommate lottery, I mean did you all I had to meet you was room with a conceded condescending alpha, literally named Chad! Fuck it felt good to kill him!” said Ethan.

“You never loved me?” Y/n said.

“Don’t look so hurt y/n, no hard feelings” said Ethan as he smirked at the h/c haired boy.

“This was your grandmother’s Sam, Nancy Loomis, really runs in the fucking family doesn’t it” Ethan said pointing at his mask with the knife.

“Speaking of family, my name’s not Ethan Landry! Is it dad?” Said Ethan.

“Dad?” Tara said in shock.

“If it’s you two that just leaves.. Mindy?” said Sam.

The third killer reveals themself as Quinn.

“Hey roomies, didn’t see that one coming did you?” said Quinn.

“Yeah because you died” said Tara.

“Kinda didn’t, though it was a good way to get off the suspect list. Stab Mindy, stab Gale Weathers” Said Quinn.

“Yep and I made sure I was the first on the scene to swap her body with a fresh one. A little fake blood, a prosthetic, you’d be surprised with what a grieving father can get away with.” said Wayne.

Skip to their motive

As Kirby shot at Bailey, Sam and Tara watched as y/n made a run for it into the bar area with Ethan quickly running after him as they climbed up the ladder. As they finally made it to the top they heard y/n’s screams, losing yet another member of the core5(???).

Skip to when Tara is dangling from the balcony

As Sam let go of Tara, Ethan stabbed her in the abdomen. But as Tara was about to stab Ethan, a gunshot was heard as Tara collapsed to the ground with a bullet through her head.

“Tara!” Said Sam.

But before Sam could do anything Quinn stabbed her in the chest as she pushed Sam of the balcony. As Sam tried to get up she saw someone who she wasn’t expecting to see.

“Y-y/n, what are you doing?” Said Sam.

“Surprise Sam” y/n smiled psychotically.

“What about what we went through in woodsboro” said Sam.

“Come on Sam! I expected more from you! Who do you think attacked you in the break room, Who do you think helped Amber kill Wes!” Said y/n.

“I was the backup plan in case if they both failed, so I immediately contacted Richie’s family after what happened, hell, I even dated one of the members too!” Y/n smiled looking at Ethan.

“After you die, Mindy, Danny, and Gale are next” y/n said before he shot Sam in the head.

[lunajay33]

New World🍂Part.12

Summary: You grew up in a crappy town with one friend who kept you going, everything started to fall into place, that’s until the world ended and the dead ruled the world, now you and your best friend Daryl Dixon had to stay alive but will you finally confess?

Warnings: This chapter contains light sh if you’re not comfortable don’t interact

Part.11

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since I was shot and things have been off with Daryl and I, I could tell he felt nervous around me and we’ve barely talked but even though it hurt when he left he came back and that counts……..right? Plus I missed how he’d cuddle me at night and call me those sweet names

I got out of bed and went out to see Daryl working on his bike, I sat down on the bike as he looked up at me from the engine

“Hey” I said nervous

“Hey”

“Can we talk?”

He put his tools and rag down and looked up at me with squinted eyes from the sun beating down on us

“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant or if I was mean, it just really hurt when you left Daryl, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you how much I love you, what you mean to me, I can’t lose you”

“Ya ain’t got nothin ta be sorry for, I shoulda never left the moment I left and it settled I knew I shoulda gone with ya, and when I got back seein ya shot again I couldn’t stop blaming myself, I’ll never leave again i mean it” he said running his hands up and down my thighs

“I love you Daryl but……Don’t blame yourself for me getting hurt, you know I hate it when you put those burdens on yourself”

“Maybe not the gunshot but……..ya hurt herself cause of me, that’s my fault” my heart sank at that

“You……..you saw”

“Course, me and Hershel cleaned em”

“Sorry” I said looking down ashamed

“Ya gotta swear ya ain’t gonna do that again”

I nodded as he stood pulling me into his chest holding me tight, it felt so good to be in his arms again, I wrapped my arms around his waist breathing in the smoky smell that comforted me

Daryl helped me get over my depression as best he could, showing me that I could trust him and he wouldn’t leave again over the next few days

But now Merle was back with us and it made things tense with the group but I always made sure Daryl didn’t get caught in the middle knowing how hard that was on him

Things escalated over the week they’ve been back Merle told us we should leave and then him and Michonne go missing

“Where the hell are they?” Daryl groaned as we looked all over the prison for them

“Why would they be together?” I asked confused

“He’s gonna take her back to the governor, as a peace offerin……damn it” he started running out to his bike and I was quick to follow

“Where are you going?” I asked as he started up the bike

“I gotta get to em before they get there”

“I’ll come with you”

“I can’t risk ya out there”

“You promised Daryl, I’m coming with you”

“Fine then we’re goin on foot to not attract anythin” he said grabbing my hand and we were off

Running through neighbourhood sand forests we found Michonne alone telling us Merle let her go, we got to an industrial area filled with cyloes and rusty old machinery

“Do you think he might be here?” I asked looking around but only seeing walkers

He shrugged his shoulders continuing to lead me through the abandoned equipment until we came across a walker feasting on a clearly freshly killed person but that’s when we noticed

It’s Merle……..he’s dead, I heard the whimpers from Daryl as he swayed back and worth dropping his bow

Merle noticed us coming over to try and finish us off too until Daryl shoved him back, crying realizing his brother was dead when he just got him back, I placed my hand on Daryl’s shoulder pulling him back

“I’ve got it D” I said taking out my knife not wanting Daryl to have to kill his brother, I pushed Merle down to the ground, pushing my knife into the back of his head ceasing his movement, he was gone now fully gone

I ran over to Daryl where he was curled up on the ground crying, it hurt me to see him cry especially since he never does, I pulled him against me so he could let it all out

“I’m so sorry baby” I said feeling the tears well up in my own eyes

He didn’t say anything but continued to cry for an hour until he settled still gripping my shirt

“What do you want me to do for you D?” I asked as he looked up at me from my lap

“Wanna go home” that was enough for me to find a car, got wire it and drive us back home

The drive back was silent, I didn’t expect him to talk, I know he needs his time and being silent is his way of coping, when we got back he went up to a watch tower and the others gave me a look

“Just……..leave him alone for today” and they all let him be, going back to working around the courtyard

I went inside our block to get some water and a snack for him knowing he neglects necessities when he’s going through something, I went up in the watch tower sitting next to him leaning on the railing so our legs dangled over the edge

“Here i brought you something” I said placing the food and water down next to him

He looked at it and looked back out over the courtyard “thanks”

I sat there all night long with him until he moved so his head was resting in my lap so I could play with his hair hoping it was helping

“Peach?” He finally spoke

“Yeah D?”

“I wanna have that baby” my heart stopped

“Are you sure? I thought…..you said it was too risky”

“Life’s too short, I wanna experience what I can with ya, I want that family we’ve dreamed ‘bout”

“I’m ready whenever you’re ready Daryl but I want you to just relax for now, get some sleep my love”

It’s been a few months and lots have changed, the governor abandoned his people at Woodbury and we took the rest in creating space for them, I was wary of them since they weren’t my family and I didn’t know if I could trust them so I kept my distance, Daryl did too for the most part

“Hey, wanna get some food?” Daryl asked as I was tending to our garden

“Sure!” I said as he took my hand helping me up

“How lil asskicker doin?” He asked as he placed a protective hand over my belly

“They’re doing fine, I can’t wait to meet them” we didn’t know if it was a boy or girl but I knew Daryl was secretly hoping for a little girl

“Me too sunshine”

Everything felt like it was falling into place, I just hope nothing ruins this

Part.13

How is everyone liking the story??

Taglist: @deansapplepie @ghostboneswrites2 @willowshadenox @thebadbatch2022 @writer-ann-artist @i-wear-wet-socks313 @thestonedwriter

[mamirhodessxox]

Hi loves! So I’m gonna start posting prompts from stories that I decided to not Include, This one is gonna be a good chunk of reading since in a few chapters it was supposed to go into the final part of “I Hate You More” with the major possibility that our main character Sasha would die but I decided to not include that but i’m still not sure since I like to have heartbreaking endings or happy endings.

Enjoy <3

🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤

Seth searched throughout the parking garage that was a mess of blown up cars & dust followed with ashes & chunks of concrete everywhere, the team had gotten into a large altercation with Roman & his men but he didn’t expect things to end like this.

Cody sat up slowly wiping any blood off of his face while coughing as he accidentally inhaled smoke before looking around “Sasha..?” Seth turned to him & furrowed his brow noticing Sasha was no longer by Cody’s side, Marianna’s face dropped along with Barbra & Randy’s as they all stood up to their feet. Marianna immediately searched around even cutting her palm as she lifted & threw concrete across the ground “Where is she?!” She shouted while Cody rushed moving any sort of damaged object out of the way as he helped Marianna search for Sasha but found no luck.

Barbra searched through any car that was flipped upside down or on their side but didn’t get a sprinkle of a hint where her daughter could possibly be. Randy checked one specific spot & eventually found a leather jacket in between the larger chunks of concrete making Seth look towards his direction and shake his head in disbelief until he saw a figure lie underneath a car, immediately Marianna saw & started tearing up before running towards the car “Marianna No!” Randy shouted out as he didn’t know if it were a trap or actually Sasha but either way Mari didn’t listen, as soon as she dropped down to the ground and pull what seemed to be Sasha out from under the car she sighed in relief “She’s breathing!” Cody rushed towards the two and got on the ground but soon noticed a pool of blood underneath Sasha’s hand while she came back to consciousness & let out a grunt of discomfort, as Seth made his way towards them he felt a lump in his throat the moment he’d notice his little sister had been shot.

Barbra stood behind Marianna as she covered her mouth as a tear trickled down her face, Cody shook his head as he moved her hand away from the wound & pulled her shirt up to the slightest only to see the gunshot right in the side of her stomach “w-well she’s still breathing! There’s time to bring her to the hospital right?!” Marianna blurted out before coming undone into a mess of emotions “R-Right guys?! It’s n-“ Sasha shook her head as it laid in her bestfriends lap before placing her bloody hand against Marianna’s as she grew the courage to talk “It’s too late for me Mari, I- I already lost enough b-blood.” Cody shook his head but Seth immediately took her away from Mari & held her in his arms “Nonono- It’s not too late! You can’t l-leave me yet damnit, Y-You were supposed to live longer, c’mon just hang tight and let us ta-“ sasha weakly shook her head before turning her attention towards her lover while she somehow stayed composed despite her dying, “I’m sorry Cody, for everything, I—You deserved better, I don’t- I don’t h-hate you.” He shook her head as he came closer to Sasha & Seth while his hands held her face “Your killin’ me sweetheart, I know you don’t hate me, But I should be the one who’s sorry.” He muttered before Barbra finally kneeled down.

“My baby..” she choked out as she stared at the child she gave birth to many years ago die slowly, Randy held Marianna in his arms as he started shedding tears as he watched the girl who thought of him as a father figure suffer. “Mama please don’t..” Sasha frowned before feeling her mother press her head against hers. Everyone Sasha ever loved & cared for was there as she took her last few breaths, She gave Cody one final kiss, Randy one final pat on the back, Seth one final smack upside the head like she used to do when they were kids, Call her mother ‘Mama’ one last time & finally tell Marianna how proud of her she was for being a badass.

Eventually Seth felt his little sister go limp while her eyes were shut, Cody felt his heart completely shatter as he knew nobody could replace his love for Sasha.

8 Months Later

Cody visited Sasha’s grave with a bouquet of flowers that he knew were her favorite & a necklace he got her way back in college. He cleared his throat as he kneeled down into the grass & place the two items down against the stone. He stared at the picture of her that was framed into the grave before huffing.

“How’re you doing doll? Resting easy I hope” he spoke “We miss you like hell, I do, Seth got married, remember Becky? His girlfriend? She’s his wife now, he honored you at the wedding, had a whole speech and everything just for you doll. Marianna isn’t taking it too well, she’s been sitting in your room sometimes, your mom, she’s taking it the worst, but she got you justice, Your guys’ dad went to prison. For good.” He sighed out as he updated the woman on what life was like despite her not even being able to be present to hear him.

“I think about you. A lot, I keep having dreams about what life could have been like if you were still here, Goddamn Sash’ this wasn’t supposed to happen, we were supposed to move away from Miami, get married, live a nice secluded life & I’m so sorry Roman took that chance away from you.” He choked on his words & shook his head “I have somethin’ for you, had it for awhile now..I was gonna give it to you but then..y’know.” He sighed before placing a small box right against the stone & flipping it open showing a custom made engagement ring made just for her.

An engagement ring that was supposed to tie the knot between them forever.

Like I said, not all fairytales have happy endings..

🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @jeysbvck

[angie-long-legs]

starter for @themultiversemercs

It had been a while since Angel had had a day off work, and he planned to squeeze every last drop of relaxation out of these twenty-four hours as he could. Having hit the town in an attempt to drown out the misery of the day, he had collapsed into bed in the early hours of the morning in an intoxicated haze, thinking of nothing but the blissful sleep he would have knowing tomorrow was his own. He could stay in bed all damn day if he wanted to, just him and Fat Nuggets, snoozing peacefully with nowhere else to be.

That was the plan, anyway. Or so it had been, until an unholy cacophony in the form of multiple gunshots, screams, and the various gruesome sounds of a fire-powered brawl had rudely interrupted his well-earned rest. The ten seconds between him waking up and storming over to his window to witness whatever brutal massacre had disturbed his slumber were enough time for the spider to go from zero to one hundred.

A glance outside the window showed the suspected carnage, as well as a single gunman who appeared to be defending the hotel from... well, whoever they were, it would be a long time before they regenerated back to their old selves. Still, who the fuck staged a mass-murder at - he glanced to his bedside clock - ten in the morning?!

"Hey!" Angel yelled at the top of his lungs. "Do ya fuckin' mind?! Some of us are tryin' ta sleep! Can't ya save the slaughterin' til at least afta' lunch?"

[primeofprimes115]

Luck - Supergirl x Male Reader

Warnings: Action 👿 and Fluff 🥰

Gunshots ring out as Parademons advanced on Y/N as he quickly reloads his Hand Cannon and throws 3 flaming knives at 3 incoming Parademons in front of him.

*

Summary: it is the final battle, Darkseid and his army has invaded Earth (much like in the final episode of Justice League Unlimited), every Hero and Villain has agreed with joining up together to fight a common enemy.

You are a young man with extraordinary abilities who is practically immortal thanks to your powers from two paracausal Gods/Goddesses (Light and Dark) who once upon a time, fought each other before coming to a truce where the timeline would reset.

It's unknown to everyone what happened in the old timeline since there was no Justice League, just Guardians.

But at the moment, you're in a middle of fighting Parademons alone, at the entrance of where the Parademon's objective was, they were trying to terraform Earth since it was Darkseid's orders and let's just say you didn't like the sound of that.

Your objective is to shut down the terraforming weapon and make it go boom in the process.

And it was heavily guarded with Parademons on the ground and the sky.

*

He then ducks down to dodge a clothesline attack from behind him, spins round and hammer-fires his Hand Cannon before a bullet hits an explosive propane tank, killing a few Parademons and sharp debre comes flying at a Parademon from behind him as he makes a 'ta-da' gesture with his free hand before double jumping on top of a destroyed Watchtower Javelin he rode earlier on.

He turns round and placed a trip-mine before firing his Hand Cannon at 3 incoming Parademons as more close in and reluctantly run into the trip-mine, killing the few that ran into it as Y/N cartwheel jumps off and slides down while killing a Parademon that charges at him in the air.

He lands and is grabbed from behind before being thrown at some hanging debre, taking a hard hit.

"Yep.. That hurt" Y/N says, holding his head with one hand as the Parademon in front of him starts to pick up a piece of debris, Y/N picks up his Hand Cannon and starts getting up before getting hit by the debris the Parademon picked up, being tossed towards a Javelin wing hanging up.

With quick thinking, he pulls out his knife and impales it right through the broken wing, and overlooks the incoming enemies, he looks up and shoots the wire tangled around the wing that caused the piece of the Javelin to hang in place, he uses his knife to put enough force to throw the wing down on the Parademons below him and lands on his feet, looking at the debre he pulled down on them.

"Sorry. Not sorry" he says to the dead Parademons behind him before running back out at the incoming threats, firing his Hand Cannon before sliding right under a Parademon that tried to tackle him.

As he gets up, he sees he's surrounded completely.

"Well... Should've stayed home today Y/N" he talked to himself, now regretting the mess he's put himself in before he hears a grunt coming from a female as a Parademon is flung right over his head, driving the attention away from him as two red lasers then shoot out at a Parademons.

"Sounds like you need some girl-power" he recognised the voice as he smiles under his hood, it was his girl bestie Kara Zor-El or in other words: Supergirl.

"I really do actually" he replies to Kara with a cocky smile as the two start to kick ass together, fighting side-by-side.

Using your Light and Dark powers and Kara using her abilities, nothing could stop you both, it was why the citizens thought you and Supergirl were a power-couple, they thought you two were dating in which it was a nice thought that made you both blush about it, you two were just best friends-nothing more... Yet.

The dust then settles, Y/N reloads his Hand Cannon while panting a little as Kara let's her guard down.

"Think that's the last of them?" Kara asked.

"should be" Y/N replied looking at the terraforming weapon that overlooked the sky, he starts to walk off before Kara stops him.

"I should go with you, we'll shut down the weapon together" she suggested but you refused.

"No, you need to stay out here, keep Darkseid's forces busy with the League, my objective is to shutting down the weapon alone, I even said it myself" he looks at Kara as she hangs her head low to think. She looks back up and opens her mouth but closes it straight after, understanding what her objective is.

"Okay... I-I'm just... Worried, about losing you" she confesses, which warms Y/N's heart.

"Me too Kar, but... You know I've killed Gods, I can take care of myself, as you can take care of yourself and the League, don't worry about me... I'll be fine" he comforts her as she kept looking into his eyes and smiles.

He holsters his Hand Cannon and pulls Kara in for a comforting hug, they close their eyes to take in the warm hug before pulling back, and smiling slightly, backing off a little.

"One more thing before you go" Kara starts to feel butterflies in her stomach as he stops to look at her.

She approached Y/N with her super-speed and pulls herself into him, closing her eyes and planting her lips on his, taking Y/N by surprise with the sudden kiss which he melts into straight after realising his girl bestie unexpectedly kisses him.

He then closes his eyes, her hands cup his face as they both pull back, opening their eyes to look at each other.

Kara smiles like a goof-ball as Y/N looks at her with a shocked expression before chuckling lightly with blushy red cheeks.

"Uh Kara? What was -"

"For luck! For good luck!" she says quickly with her goofy smile on her face "Now go shut down that weapon, while I kick ass alongside my Cousin and the Justice League and if Darkseid is there, I'll tell him you said wished to kick his ass" Kara lets go of Y/N as he starts to back off with a smile on her face.

"You too" he says to her before running off to his objective as Kara looked on

"Eyes Up" Kara says your monologue, while you ran off.

*

In the end? The battle was won, the weapon was shut down and surprisingly... Y/N would fight Darkseid, he was very powerful and Y/N was battered yes... But you triumphed in the end, he was the end of the barrel of his Hand Cannon.

But at what cost?

Many cities were damaged badly, many died... Heroes and Villains alike, their sacrifices would not be forgotten.

The rest of the League were worried about Y/N, about the terraforming weapon going out with a boom.

"What would Apokolips be like now that you're defeated and at the end of the barrel of a gun? What would your followers think, their so called 'Lord of Apokolips' beaten by a Human with extra-terrestrial powers from an old timeline, would they look at you anymore? How embarrassed you must feel right now... The humiliation" Y/N speaks coldly at Darkseid as he stares down Y/N with a cold stare.

"You cannot kill the Lord of Apokolips, I am a God" Darkseid replies.

"And I kill Gods, I've slayed many Gods, liberated and freed thousands of planets from slavery, corruption, greed, I. Am. A Guardian. And you are just another God for me to put on which God I killed list" Y/N replies as his finger itches on the trigger.

The rest of the League were now approaching... Well, the ones that could fly atleast, Supergirl was also with them since she was worried about him the most.

They land inside the crater and debre of the world-ending weapon, only to see a hooded figure approach them which Kara immediately identified it was Y/N as she quickly rushed towards him to check in him as the others then look behind him to see Darkseid, on the floor...

Green Lantern (John Stewart) and Superman approached Darkseid as Wonder Woman checked on Y/N with Kara before the rest of the League arrived along with Batman.

"he's dead" John Stewart confirmed Darkseid's condition to which Superman looked shocked as he also checked for vitals, only to see a bullet hole through Darkseid's head.

Only one person could've killed Darkseid... That being Y/N himself.

"I pulled the trigger... I saw the opportunity, to finally put him down... I'm... Sorry if that... Disappoints you all" Y/N says to everyone, hanging his head low.

"No" Superman replies, Y/N looks back up to face him, "you did the right thing" He acknowledges Y/N.

"Good... But, there's one more thing... You don't mind if I-" just as Y/N was about to finish, Kara makes him look at her and plants her lips on his as everyone looked on with mixed reactions, most of them were shocked while some where happy and a few boys were jealous.

Kal stares in disbelief to see his cousin smooching Y/N, he smiles since he knew this moment would come for Kara.

He knew how much Y/N meant to her, she was afraid of confessing her feelings to Y/N so... She asked him and his Wife Lois Lane for help.

Y/N and Kara pull back from the kiss and look at each other, not caring about the others looking at them.

"You don't mind if I take your cousin out for a Date?" he finished his previous question.

"As long as she's happy with it" he replies as Kara looks at Y/N with a delighted look on her face and plants a smooch on his cheek.

That was mere 4 months ago, Kara thinks all the way back to that day, not just to remember the first kiss they had but... To remember the Heroes that fell and Villains who redeemed themselves that sacrificed their lives to save lives.

The world healed, cities were slowly being repaired with the Justice League's help.

Kara was now a full-time Justice League member and Y/N joined alongside her to be by her side no matter what happens since they made a perfect power-couple.

At the moment however, Y/N and Kara were in the bedroom, smooching under the bed covers after their long session of sexual contact for the second time after a month.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" Kara asked pulling back a little.

"Many times" Y/N chuckles.

"I love you" she giggles.

"I love you too" Y/N says back, pulling her down to continue smooching for the rest of the night...

[traffic-light-dude]

A Line Overstepped, Rich Boy

TW: Bodily harm, gunshot wound, classist remarks Crossroads at night was always peaceful. The stars twinkled above, the moon shining brightly and casting a dreamy light over the surrounding. Traffic, like always, was out and about, traveling around Crossroads and the four factions like he always did. This was routine for him once it got dark out, find a place to hole up for the night and wait until the morning. Traversing the many alleyways that Crossroads had was basically second nature for the traffic cone demon. He's been in and out of these alleys so much that they're almost like a second home to him, his posture was relaxed. Hands in pockets, back hunched slightly and a joint resting between his lips. He didn't need to feel like he needed to be on high alert or anything. Crossroads was one of the safest places in the Inpherno. Or well, that's what Traffic thought until a mechanical whirring noise that made him stop in his tracks, spiky tail sticking up in alarm. His whole body tensed up at a familiar voice. "Well, well now... Look at the poor little vagabond."

Traffic let out a soft hiss as he slowly turned around only to be met face to face with Pwnatious and that stupid Omega Biograft of his. What in the world were they doing down here in Crossroads? "Shouldn't you be up on ya little high horse, Pwna? Or didja wanna get ya rocks off ta mockin' the lower class?" The Blackrockian noble demon huffed slightly at the remark, feeling his face burn from under their tea pot helmet. How disgusting, they thought. How fucking DISGUSTING this poor, low class demon would say such things to THEM of all demons! "Ugh... You disgust me. You poor, lower-class demons are nothing but filth that needs to be wiped out of the Inpherno.... If you can't be useful to yourself or anyone else, then why bother existing?" "Well excuse-fucking-me for bein' born ya fuckin' nepo baby! Maybe you should go back ta fuckin' Blackrock and sit up in ya fancy little-" Traffic choked out a cough as something cold gripped his throat, his eyes widening once he realized who was crushing his throat so easily. It was Carnage. That stupid fucking Biograft model. Traffic was lifted off the ground by the robot, face slowly turning purple the longer he was denied of air. He kicked is legs frantically, trying to no avail to get the robot to let him go. Pwnatious grew closer, glancing up at Traffic with a chuckle. "You're pathetic, you know that, don't you? Pathetic and useless... I'm so shocked ANYONE cares about you, Traffic. Some sad little vagabond who can't even pick himself up off the ground. You thrive off the demons who pity you, don't you? That little girl.... That pumpkin-headed woman... You use them, don't you? You don't-" "What's goin' on 'ere?" Traffic let out a strangled breath, eyes widening even more as he saw a familiar figure come into view. It was Zuka! Pwnatious was momentarily shocked when they too noticed the former soldier, shoulders stiffening slightly. They knew the reputation Zuka had, they KNEW how close to the Blackrockian leader the former soldier was. But instead of being scared, their blood BOILED at the mere sight. The tea pot demon snapped their fingers which caused Carnage to drop Traffic to the ground, the traffic cone demon gasping loudly for air and hitting his head on a nearby wall, a weak whine escaping him. Zuka snorted at the sight, his eyes narrowing at Pwnatious. "Ya really wanna cause trouble, don'tcha? You've always been so fuckin' pathetic... Can't believe YOU'RE Blackrockian nobility..." The tea pot demon seemed to only get more furious at that. THEM? Being INSULTED? How fucking dare this former soldier! They advanced forward, but so did Zuka. Their bodily differences were very apparent to the tea pot demon; Zuka was bigger and stronger than them, taller and more intimidating. But that didn't matter when the Pwnatious simply lifted their finger, pointing at Zuka. An icy command falling from their lips. "Carnage. Fire." Within a split second, Traffic watched the robot lift up one of his arms, the sound of several bullets being fired off at once went flying towards the shocked former soldier. Traffic, in a blind panic, forced himself to get up and toss himself at Zuka without a second thought. Flashes of light busted out through the alleyway before everything went silent. The noble demon's laughter slowly growing fainter and fainter as they walked away with their Omega Biograft in toe. A small pool of blood collected on the alleyway floor as Zuka lie on the floor, breathing hard and trembling slightly. Traffic, who only had a couple bullets graze him, was at the former soldier's side once the shock of the situation faded away. He ripped off his hoodie and wrapped it around Zuka's side, holding the former soldier close in a panic. He didn't know what to do. Gods above, he wished someone would show up right now.

[allzelemonz]

Captured: Kieran Duffy X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Violence, Language Warnings: O’Driscolls are their own warning, reader is an O’Driscoll, Chapter 1 setting, kidnapping, beating/abuse, very fluffy Kieran Duffy Summary: You’re captured along with Kieran when the Van Der Linde gang spot you by the river. Now you’re left laying in the stables until they tie you to the posts for interrogation later.

Getting separated from the group is a nightmare out here in the snow. Since the gunshots you haven’t seen anyone but Kieran. You’ve stayed along the river, riding together and staying careful. After Colm hit Kieran he got quiet and hasn’t spoken much even once the boss rode off. It’s not unlike Colm to beat someone that pisses him off, killing usually follows a few weeks later.

Kieran stops, looking across the river. You stop next to him and follow his gaze, a group of men on horses. After the incident at that cabin and the gunshots from earlier, they have to be another gang of outlaws. They’re talking, but you can’t make out the words with all of the wind.

“We should go.” You say. “Now.”

You can barely see the dip in Kieran’s hat as he nods. You urge your horses down the river and you can hear the sound of horses behind you. In the heat of the chase you take a different path, splitting you and Kieran. One pursuer goes after him, another after you. You do all you can to get your horse to speed up, but the snow makes it hard. Then there’s a sharp pull at your arms and chest and you fall off, your horse running on. You struggle on the ground, trying to get the rope off of you but your pursuer is on you fast.

“Woah there, cowpoke.” He laughs. “Can’t have ya runnin’ off to your boss.”

He crouches, putting his weight on you so you can’t move as he hogties you. You struggle against him as much as you can but it’s no use. He kicks you in the stomach when he stands, laughing as you try to curl in from the pain. Then he picks you over, taking your guns and valuables, before dropping you on the back of his horse. Your hat falls from your head as he starts riding. He doesn’t seem the type to respond well to begging, so you stay quiet. You can only hope Kieran got away.

You can’t see anything but the flank of his horse and the snow on the ground beneath you as your ride. When the pace slows you brace yourself. He pulls you off of the horse and drags you to a group of men, one of which is holding Kieran who looks as scared as you feel. You're made to stand, arms held by your capturer.

“Sneaky little bastard.” The man holding you says as you struggle.

“You want me ta make them talk?” Kieran’s captor asks.

The man in front of you is one you know, even in the dark. Dutch Van Der Linde. The man Colm never shuts up about.

“Oh, no. Now all we’ll get is lies.” Dutch says, rolling up what you know to be the plans for the train job.

Colm is gonna be pissed.

“Uncle, Mister Williamson.” Dutch calls to two figures you can barely make out in the dark. “Tie these maggots up someplace safe.”

You and Kieran struggle as you’re handed off to the two men.

“We get ‘em hungry first.” Dutch instructs. “I got a sayin’, my friends. We shoot fellas as need shootin’, save fellas as need savin’, and feed ‘em as need feedin’. We are gonna find out what you need.”

The fear you can feel on Kieran’s face must be reflected on your own based on the laugh from your snarky captors.

“Oh, I can’t believe it!” Dutch shouts. “O’Driscolls, in my camp!”

“We ain’t O’Driscolls, Mister!” Kieran yells as you’re both dragged away. “I hate that fella!”

“You don’t have to do this!” You add. “We’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“Oh, whatever you say, boys!” Dutch calls in a mocking tone.

You man holding you open the door to the stables, throwing you into a stall without a horse, Kieran is thrown next to you.

“We’ll have ta get some rope tomorrow, best ta tie ‘em up to the post.” The older man says. “I think Mister Pearson should have some when he’s done with that deer meat.”

The other man glares at you. “They ain’t going nowhere, damn O’Driscolls.”

“We ain’t O’Driscolls.” Kieran says.

The younger man kicks him and Kieran groans.

“Come on, Bill.” The older man says. “I got some whiskey we can celebrate with.”

The men leave and you move yourself closer to Kieran. He’s coughing from the kick he got to the stomach. You’re both still hogtied, likely to freeze on the floor.

“You alright, Duffy?”

He groans. “I’m fine.”

“Try not to argue with them.”

“What do they want with us?” He sighs. “We don’t know nothin’.”

“They don’t know that.”

Kieran moves closer to you, pressing your heads together. The only contact possible given how you’re tied. “They’ll come for us, right?”

“If Colm knows it’s Dutch Van Der Linde, maybe.” You say. “I think they took the plans for the train job.”

Kieran smiles. “They’ll come for those then.”

“Probably.”

Kieran is warm, warmer than your surroundings at least. He’s always been warm when you’re sleeping. In this instance it’s a blessing.

He presses a kiss to your nose. “You been kidnapped before?”

“I’ve been in jail before.” You say, pressing a kiss to his nose in return. “Declan’s fault.”

“Was it bad?”

You smile, looking over his face. If you’re going to get captured by a rival gang at least Kieran’s here to lighten the mood. “Declan knocked the deputy out when they brought us water and we stole the keys.”

“Was Colm mad?”

You chuckle. “We never told him, it’s not like he pays attention to us most of the time.”

“I missed you.” He says. “Haven’t seen you much since we moved up here.”

“Colm decided Tommy needed more help on jobs.” You sigh. “Otherwise I’d stay in the stables with you.”

Kieran strains his neck to look around. “We’re in the stables now.”

“You’re an idiot, Duffy.”

“Your idiot.” He presses his forehead back to yours.

“Until the Van Der Lindes kill us, sure.”

“You think they’ll kill us?” Kieran asked, worried.

“We’ll be fine.” You say. “Just try not to freeze to death.”

Kieran moves as close to you as he can. “I’m tryin’ not to.”

You wish you could put your arms around him, but the rope around your wrists keeps you still. Still, Kieran curls as much as he can into your chest and you finds a way to sleep. You press a light kiss to his head and find a way to sleep as well. What little warmth you have is from each other and what little hope you can find in getting out of this is placed in having each other here as well.

[babyyblues]

Gone

Request: "Can you please do #9 “If I don’t make it out of this-” “Don’t say that, we will.”? Daryl and reader, M/F, go on a run and the reader sees a walker coming up behind Daryl. They attack the walker and kill it, but got bit in the process. #9 You can decide if they survive the bit or not"

prompt 21: “If I don’t make it out of this-” “Don’t say that, we will.”

Era: None mentioned, no spoilers

Summary: You and Daryl go on a simple run, but things in this world really aren't that simple anymore.

Word Count: 1,243

warnings: angst, descriptive gore/ descriptions of wounds, walker bites, death

A/n: a fic without the prison? who is she??? I changed the request a bit, hope you don't mind! I can't come up with titles for shit. Sorry this is so sad, I had a different ending planned but this one felt right. Anyways, enjoy :)

also this gif makes me so sad, sorry again

It was supposed to be an easy run. You and Daryl, your partner in crime. You were running low on, well everything, but when Rick had mentioned that Judith was running a bit low on formula, you and Daryl didn’t hesitate to offer to run to the abandoned strip mall that had multiple baby stores to see what you could find. It was quiet, you and Daryl had even been flirting for Christ’s sake. It was supposed to be easy. 

Now, your chest was tight, anxiety weighing heavily on your shoulders as the sound of the herd grew closer. The eye contact with Daryl was anything but reassuring, nerves practically radiating off of him. 

“We can’t stay in here, windows aren’t boarded, we gotta find somewhere else. Quickly,” you breathed. Daryl’s eyes darted around. 

“There,” he mumbled, signaling toward the smaller building across the street, “if we go now we can beat them to it. I’ll cover ya.” 

“Daryl-”

“We don’t have time to argue- we need to go now.” You sighed with a nod, looking around as you made a run for it. Daryl stuck behind, his crossbow aimed high in the case of danger. He watched as you grunted, hitting your shoulder against the door frantically. 

“Come on dammit,” you growled, hitting it once more before the wood broke. You snapped your glance back to Daryl with a nod, making your way into the store to clear it. The herd was unbelievably close, Daryl fighting his way through to get back to you. His heart dropped to his feet when he heard a blood-curtling scream leave your throat, followed by a round of gunshots. 

“Y/n!” he yelled, seeing nothing but red as he smacked the butt of his crossbow into the head of the walker in front of him before finding a clearing to make his way to you. He called your name again, pushing his way through the door, blocking it with whatever he could find, stepping back to make sure it would hold. Turning around, his eyes took in the scene, multiple walkers on the floor. When his eyes met yours, concern flooded his features as your lip wobbled and tears stung at your eyes. 

“Daryl,” you whispered, tears falling down your cheeks as you shook your head, “I’m so sorry.”

“What is it? Y/n-” his voice died down in his throat as his eyes landed on the dripping bite mark on your forearm, quickly snapping the eyecontact back up to your glazed eyes. He swallowed roughly throwing his bag down, abruptly pulling his button-down shirt off his back before tearing it into pieces. 

“Daryl what are you-” 

“Lay down, need ta bite on this,” he spat, making quick work to tie a makeshift tourniquet around your arm. You let out a whimper at the pain. 

“Daryl wait-” 

“We don’t have time! We have ta get it off ya!” he argued, wet eyes looking at you pointedly. You nodded, a small sob leaving your lips as you laid down, watching as Daryl grabbed the axe you had been carrying. Placing the ripped piece of cloth in your mouth, he took a moment to look at you, his eyes full of worry. 

“‘M sorry in advance, this ain’t gonna feel good.” He swung the axe down, Daryl’s stomach began to churn at the sound of the muffled scream you let out against the shirt.  He couldn’t help the tears that escaped his eyes as you writhed in pain, squirming on the ground as he continued the daunting task. 

Pain seared through your body, chills running up your spine. Daryl took a second, using his infamous red rag to wipe at the layer of sweat that caked your forehead. 

“‘M sorry, ‘m so sorry,” he grunted, “almost done, stay with me.” You began to drift out of consciousness, the world turning fuzzy. 

“Hey, Y/n, hey no. Stay with me, yeah that’s it. Good, we’re all done, jus’ gotta wrap ya up. Yer safe, I got ya.” he told you, wrapping what was left of your arm with the remainder of his shirt. Grabbing another rag from his bag, he wrapped it around your arm in an attempt to stop the bleeding. He pulled you close, holding you in his arms, grabbing the canteen before helping you to take a drink. 

“Daryl-” 

“Shh, ‘s alright, don’t have to talk,” Daryl comforted you, squeezing you a bit tighter when he felt you shake in his arms. You startled him with a cough, looking up at him with a weary smile. You inched your hand toward his cheek, your own tears falling as he nuzzled into your touch. 

“Dar,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and throat dry, “If I don’t make it out of this-”

“Don’t. Don’t say that, we will. ‘M gonna get ya outta here, yer gonna be okay.” You shook your head with a sad smile, coughing once more. 

“I love you Daryl Dixon,” you whispered, Daryl clamped his eyes shut with a shuttering breath before his piercing blue eyes met yours. His lip wobbled as he took your face in his hands. 

“I know, I know ya do. ‘N I love you.”  

You let out a chuckle, Daryl swiping his thumb to catch your tears. 

“You have n-no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that,” you spoke slowly. Daryl looked down at your arm, blood now soaking through the shirt. He readjusted, peeling his other shirt off to rewrap the wound. 

“D-daryl no, you- you have to go.” 

“What? Nah, I told ya, ‘m gettin’ ya outta here, jus’ gotta-” 

“Daryl,” you cried, “I’ll just slow you down, I-i’m not gonna make it Dar. There’s a back door. You need to leave, now.” 

“‘M not leavin’ without you!” he growled, the flow of his tears growing heavier by the second. He took in his surroundings, and it was a massive punch in the gut when he realized you were right. You had lost so much blood, it was all over him and the ground beneath you. Walkers were banging at the front door. And you- his beautiful girl- were far too weak to move or be moved. You were doing your best to keep your eyes open for him, but there was only so much longer you could hold on. He couldn’t deny the facts that were layed out in front of him, you were growing cold right in front of him. 

“Daryl please,” you mumbled, your eyes slipping closed, “ya don’t gotta do it you just need to get out of here.” 

“Can’t let you turn,” he whimpered, returning his hands to your cheeks, watching as you began to drift. You fluttered your eyes open wearily, the color beginning to dragon from your face completely. 

“Kiss me,” you breathed, “please.” He didn’t hesitate to softly place his lips on yours, his heart shattering as he felt you go limp in his arms. 

“‘M so sorry,” he sobbed, “m’ so so sorry sunshine.” 

Holding you for a minute longer, he begrudgingly placed his knife through your skull, unwilling to let you turn into one of the monsters who caused this. Saying his final goodbyes, and I love yous, he made his way out the back, making his way back to the car.  Pulling out a cigarette with his shaky hands, he lit it before pulling a long drag, unable to get you off his mind. 

[brexiiton]

Shocking detail in Taylor Swift terror attack plot revealed

A shocking detail have been revealed that demonstrates how dangerously close three teens came to carrying out a suspected attack at a Taylor Swift concert.

Lexie Cartwright, August 9, 2024 - 6:18am

It's been claimed that the suspected terrorists who plotted an attack on Taylor Swift's concerts in Vienna, Austria this week had their friends hired as security for the event.

Three teenagers were arrested Wednesday in connection with the criminal conspiracy, including a 19-year-old male, who was detained in Ternitz, which is an hour outside Vienna where Swift was to host three back-to-back shows at Ernst Happel Stadium from Thursday night.

The man allegedly planned to drive a car into the some 20,000 fans who were expected to gather outside the huge stadium during the concert.

The Sun reports that his friends had infiltrated security at the even, where they were hired to help with set up and stewarding.

Some of Swift's fans who travelled to Vienna for the now-cancelled shows have lashed out at the star. Picture: Getty Images TAS Rights Management.

Authorities reportedly found various chemicals and other substances at a residence in Vienna after receiving a tip from foreign intelligence agencies.

A second person was arrested in the capital while authorities continued to hunt further suspects.

Swift's 'biggest fear' was a terror plot

In the wake of Taylor Swift cancelling her shows. an interview has resurfaced in which she revealed such a scenario would be her "biggest fear".

In an article for Ella in 2019, Swift shared her fears over the attack at an Ariana Grande concert in Manchester, UK, and revealed that she always carries "QuikClot army grade bandage dressing, which is for gunshot or stab wounds".

"My biggest fear," Swift wrote at the time, "After the Manchester Arena bombing and the Vegas concert shooting, I was completely terrified to go on tour this time because I didn't know how we were going to keep 3 million fans safe over seven months. There was a tremendous amount of planning, expense, and effort put into keeping my fans safe."

"My fear of violence has continued into my personal life," she said, adding that she carried "QuikClot army grade bandage dressing, which is for gunshot or stab wounds."

Taylor Swift was planning to play three sold-out shows in Vienna, Austria from Thursday night. Picture: JULIEN DE ROSA/AFP

Stadium officials "had no choice" but to cancel shows

Organisers announced on Wednesday that they had made the decision to cancel all of Swift's concerts, saying they were left with "no choice" but to pull the pin for safety reasons.

"With confirmation from government officials of a planned terrorist attack at Ernst Happel Stadium, we have no choice but to cancel the three scheduled shows for everyone's safety," event organiser Barracuda Music said in a post on Instagram.

Franz Ruf, Austrian Director General for Public Safety, said authorities believed the suspects became radicalised online and pledged allegiance to the leader of IS in July.

"The suspected perpetrator was focused on the Taylor Swift concerts. Preparatory actions were detected," Mr Ruf said.

Earlier, Vienna's head of police Gerhard Pürstl warned an "abstract danger" remained despite the arrests, with 65,000 people expected to attend Swift's shows per day, as well as 22,000 fans outside the venue.

Swift is yet to comment.

Vienna's Ernst Happel Stadion was the target of an ISIS terror plot, where Swift was hosting three shows. Picture: Christian Bruna/Getty Images

According to Kronen Zeitung, a local media outlet, police were planning for a boosted operation if Swift's shows were to go ahead, including long guns, bomb squads and K-9 dogs being stationed to the area.

It comes one week after Swift's fans were targeted in northwest England, where three young girls were killed after 17-year-old Axel Rudakubana allegedly went on a stabbing spree at a dance class held in honour of the Grammy winning artist.

A motive for Rudakubana's murders has not yet been revealed.

Swift released a statement shortly after the incident, saying she was "completely in shock" over what happened.

Swift is embarking on the Europe leg of her Eras Tour. Picture: JULIEN DE ROSA/AFP

More than 65,000 fans were expected to attend her Vienna shows per day. Picture: Sergei GAPON/AFP

"The horror of yesterday's attack in Southport is washing over me continuously, and I'm just completely in shock," Swift wrote in her statement, posted on her Instagram story.

"The loss of life and innocence, and the horrendous trauma inflicted on everyone who was there, the families, and first responders. These were just little kids at a dance class. I am at a complete loss for now to ever convey my sympathies to these families."

Swift is currently embarking on the Europe leg of her blockbuster Eras Tour, with Vienna marking her second-last stop before she hosts five sellout shows at London's Wembley Stadium.

The singer will then take a two-month break, before concluding the tour in Canada from November.

[thepoisonroom]

for anyone wondering what i meant by the "scav bothers me" copypasta

scav is this and this

scav bothers me was posted on facebook when i was an undergrad by my then-girlfriend's TA and was this:

"SCAV bothers me. I'm fine with nerds having fun in an overindulgent nerdfest. What really bothers me is the amount of importance this university puts on such a meaningless endeavor. People pretend like this is some celebration of creativity and intellectual originality. No. Wake up. You are not doing anything more significant than those weird geeks with Japanese fetishes who show up at anime conventions in droves having paid hundreds of dollars to create the most accurate Chun Li costume.

When you are at a rich private school that gentrified an entire community of low-income African Americans and eradicated an entire culture of jazz and arts under the name of urban renewal, when that school is currently celebrating a swanky new art center that purports to engage a variety of cultures while cutting its trauma program so that all the gunshot victims in the South Side die on the ambulance ride to Northwestern, you have an obligation to do something meaningful and relevant. UChicago not only is an Ivory Tower and a sheltered and privileged bubble; it celebrates being one. There is a reason this school has so many Nobel laureates and yet very little social relevance.

You want to do something creative? While I was at Harvard I saw student-produced theater that had incredible depth, social relevance and insight, and thoughtful creativity. Your student performances at Logan fall far short of that standard. Start there. Instead of bashing Harvard students for not being intellectual enough, why don't you realize that you need some proper training from real performing artists, people who understand humanity with more breadth and nuance?

You want to do something intellectual? Why not start some conversations about our real world, instead of indulging yourselves in weird abstract geekery that has zero social impact? You bash Harvard for having grade inflation, and you think your Core is oh-so-profound because everyone has to read works by Durkheim, but the average quality of talks, panels, and classroom discussions I've seen here is far lower than that at Harvard, intellectually as well as in social relevance. The real world doesn't exist in an abstraction. The real world is complicated and doesn't quite fit neatly into intellectual arguments, broad or specific. Producing t-shirts that ask "That's all well and good in practice, but how does it work in theory?" is not helpful.

So I guess the real reason SCAV bothers me so much is that it's emblematic of the whole self-indulgent, self-congratulating University of Chicago culture that is completely unaware of its privilege and so detached from reality. You have been given such blessings and resources that many students around the world can only dream of having. There are so many talented teenagers I have met working with under-resourced school districts that would probably look at your scavenger hunt and see the same thing we see when we look at Wall St -- an immense waste of talent and money.

When I host Harvard information sessions, I often talk about the kind of holistic growth that is possible only because you are surrounded by talented individuals and Harvard will give them the resources to do cool stuff -- student research, projects at international NGOs, student activism, student performing arts, student debates, etc etc. A few months ago, an elderly tired-looking woman raised her hand and asked me why I was talking about students having fun and wasting time instead of focusing on academics. I told her that the level of academics at Harvard is top-notch, but academics is just a given -- it's a baseline on which we build more multifaceted, impactful things. I told her it's not a waste of time, because think about it: if we want to solve the massive incarceration problem in the U.S., do you want your policies designed by a social scientist who assiduously studied the problem on paper, or do you want someone who did study the theory but also went to volunteer at a prison rehabilitation program? I cannot say the same thing about the University of Chicago; we do in fact waste ridiculous amounts of time and resources doing crap like SCAV and meaningless academic discussions that don't involve real applicable solutions to real world problems. I told the lady that if you want to solely focus on academics, you should go to the University of Chicago.

People criticize Harvard for graduating so many bankers, traders, and consultants. But I've seen a surprising number of people use those starting jobs as opportunities to learn more about the private sector so that they can create their own companies or do more impactful stuff in the public or non-profit sectors, and statistics from surveys on Harvard alumni back me up. There is a reason Harvard graduates so many CEOs, leaders, and politicians; and it is not just because of pedigree and exclusive elite circles.

I am not saying Harvard graduates are altruistic world-changers. They are self-aggrandizing people who seek personal glory and bullshit about visions while comfortably residing in their privileged sheltered worlds. But at least they have those visions. At least they want to make some sort of impact, and at least they pretend to care about our larger society while pursuing their own successes. When have nerds ever changed our society (outside of the natural sciences) by purely focusing on abstract academic problems? For all the transformative theories that the social scientists at UChicago have come up with, why does this school have far less policy impact than Harvard does? How many new disruptive innovative companies or social projects do we ever see coming out of UChicago? This place has talent and resources. Why are we wasting them on SCAV when we can use that time to do much more meaningful things? Why are we ignoring our social responsibility?"